[Comprehensive] Sherlock's Secret

It was a dark rainy night.

The wall clock at 221B Baker Street rang Today No. 20 once. Sherlock Holmes, who was lying on the sofa with his hands clasped together, suddenly turned over, put on a scarf and lifted his windbreaker, and was swept out the door like the wind.

When the door opened, the faint thunder was mixed with Mrs. Hudson's shouts, and they were drowned in the boundless rain.

The taxi stopped at the gate of the long-abandoned Andrea Orphanage. He got out of the car and rushed into the rain.

The rusty iron gate was unlocked.

The "squeak" sound of the door shaft sliding was indistinct in the rainy night, like a long and ancient Sanskrit music. He took two steps to the steps under the eaves, turned around as if feeling something, and suddenly appeared in front of him a red umbrella.

It is like a lonely and delicate rose petal floating in the desolate and silent ocean of night.

"Mr. Holmes?"

"Obviously...Miss Frank."

Under the red umbrella stood a young woman with an oriental face, her black hair was blown by the cold wind and escaped from the umbrella, stained with water vapor.

"We assume that you are here to investigate the scene, but this does not seem to be in line with your job. If I remember correctly, you are an entertainment reporter, and a corpse case just happened here this morning. The deceased is not Any popular movie star or singer."

He spoke steadily and quickly, his deep and melodious voice was blurred by the noisy rain, but it was still like the undulating piano sound of the dark tide.

Miss Frank smiled good-naturedly: "Any news is worth reporting, isn't it?"

Sherlock said sarcastically, "Is Star Entertainment going bankrupt or is Miss Frank planning to change jobs?"

"Unfortunately, neither."

"Then what on earth made you give up the warm air and hot coffee on a cold rainy night and come to the murder scene... Ah, let me guess, the mud on your shoes and pant legs is well watered and even, wet , indicating that you came here on foot, and the sleeve—”

"Okay, okay," Frank interrupted helplessly, "I'm lost, I confess, my friend Miss Zoe Schell—a brilliant writer of detective stories—needed some material, but because I can’t travel due to physical reasons, so I have to do it for me.”

"is it?"

"Of course," Miss Frank blinked innocently, "nothing in this world can hide from the eyes of Sherlock Holmes."

Sherlock took a step forward, leaned half into the rain, and looked down at her.

Frank, however, didn't seem to feel the pressure in his eyes at all, and slowly raised the red umbrella up, covering half of it over his head.

Rain trickled down her hair and down his shoulders.

Sherlock suddenly whispered: "So... have you found anything?"

Frank shrugged: "No, it rained too much, and many things were washed away...Don't look at me with such eyes—well, I can't see anything even if it doesn't rain, I Originally, I just planned to take a few photos before going back, after all, it was so cold."

She added without waiting for Sherlock to speak, "I'm not a detective either."

"Since your photo has been taken, please go home and don't disturb my thinking here."

Miss Frank: "..."

Thinking at the murder scene in the middle of the night, you are not afraid of bumping into ghosts.

Although she knew that standing in front of her was the most outstanding detective in Great Britain, and she had heard about his strange behavior in her previous life and witnessed it with her own eyes on the screen, but when these situations happened in front of her, she still couldn't help being a little... thrilling.

After all, the world is not without ghosts.

Miss Frank, who had just come to this world, was a staunch materialist like Sherlock, but the reality hit her hard in the face, and she cried in pain.

When she was about to leave, she took the umbrella back and asked again, "You didn't bring an umbrella?"

Sherlock's gray-blue eyes glowed pure blue in the rainy night, staring at her lightly, without speaking.

Miss Frank violently stuffed the red umbrella into his hand: "For my cousin's sake, don't argue, I still have one."

As she spoke, she opened her backpack, and inside lay a lady's folding umbrella and a mechanical Leica camera.

Taking out the folding umbrella, she walked sideways beside Sherlock, turned around in two steps, and smiled, "Mr. Holmes, goodbye."

Her figure disappeared into the rain, Sherlock held the red umbrella, flipped through the information of this person like a spinning film in his mind——

Sue Frank, Asian-European mixed race, 22 years old, majored in journalism and media, is now an entertainment reporter in London Star Entertainment Journal, and the distant cousin of Jasmine Amber, an assistant forensic doctor at Barts Hospital. He and her met a year ago in "" Opera Divas Murder in a Fishbowl", and later seen a few times in Molly Amber's lab.

Very little information.

Just a normal guy, uninteresting.

Sherlock's thoughts returned to the horrific dismemberment case this morning.

==

Miss Frank turned the corner and dodged into a dark, deserted alley.

She seemed to shake something out of her sleeve, and then disappeared with a soft "poof".

In the next second, she appeared in the entrance of room 303 of an apartment on Four Maple Street in the Blackmark neighborhood.

There should be no one in the room, but she complained loudly: "Severus, do you know that your behavior will be judged as trespassing according to the law?"

A faint blue flame rose from the darkness, jumping and lighting up a small area in the center of the living room, and a pale face.

Frank reached out and turned on the light in the living room. The fluorescent light on Severus Snape's wand went out, and he said in a cold voice, "I have no obligation to abide by Muggle laws."

"as long as you are happy."

She made a feeble invitation gesture, and Severus untied his cloak and threw it on the arm of the sofa: "What's the matter?"

"Nothing at all."

"The Ministry of Magic still insists on the presence of undiscovered magical creatures...they are not heeding Dumbledore's advice."

"These idiots..." Frank scolded, "there are no magical creatures that have any magical fluctuations at all? Can you take a good look at the definition of the term 'magic creature' in Professor Scamander's monograph, if They don't have a Fantastic Beasts book, and I would love to sponsor it!"

Severus mocked: "Now is the moment of crisis. After all, Sirius Black just escaped from Azkaban, three Muggles were killed, and the corpses were still torn and mutilated...Of course our minister is willing Said it was the work of the so-called 'Unknown Fantastic Beast', not Black's revenge."

"Fantastic Beasts are not the ones who blamed them, what kind of grudges do you have with them..." Frank muttered, "By the way, Sirius really escaped from Azkaban?"

Severus pulled out a newspaper from the pocket of his robe, and she took it and unfolded it. On the most conspicuous page was a picture of Sirius Black, screaming while clutching the iron bars of the prison, with disheveled mustache and grumpy eyes.

"The Daily Prophet...I hate this official newspaper!"

"The irony is that you can't turn it off," Severus said. "Obviously living in the Muggle world has shut you down too much. Sooner or later you'll forget that you're a wizard."

"It doesn't matter," Frank's piercing eyes quickly scanned the news article, "... Dementors - just add to the public fear, IMHO, the Ministry of Magic is a bunch of scumbags, rubbish! Cornelius Fudge this shrinking head An ineffective salted fish, sooner or later I will..."

"What are you going to do? Replace it?"

"I'm going to call him Salted Fish to his face!"

Severus: "…"

She rolled up the newspaper and threw it out, poured herself a glass of water, and said, "Did you come this time to prove to me that Sirius escaped from Azkaban?"

Severus asked without answering, "Did you go to the scene just now?"

Frank nodded: "As I said, it wasn't any magical creature, nor was it murdered by ordinary people. I believe Dumbledore must be clear..."

She remembered the bloody scene she saw early this morning.

The stumped limbs and arms were dripping with blood. Some limbs were cut neatly and abnormally, while others seemed to be eaten by wild animals. The flesh and fat were rolled up and blurred into a piece of meat and mud. What is even more puzzling is that some corpse parts were missing. There were three, but there were not enough body parts at the crime scene to make two.

"The Aurors have been involved in the investigation." Severus said noncommittally.

Frank remained silent until Severus said, "September is another new term..."

She suddenly reacted: "I knew it, you have acted as Dumbledore's lobbyist again, I will not agree to him, and he has already found Remus?"

Severus said calmly, "I'm not Dumbledore's lobbyist."

"Don't tell me that you came to persuade me voluntarily," Frank smiled sharply, "You obviously want to be a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher yourself."

"Dumbledore won't agree with me," Severus said dryly, "but you're at least ten thousand times safer than a werewolf."

"Come on, your wolfbane potion has already been successfully made, you just don't like Remus."

After a while, Severus said: "Su Fu..."

The other party was stunned for a moment when he heard this address.

After all, after so many years, there are very few people who can call this name.

It's been too long, and she has forgotten that there is a movie called "Harry Potter" that is popular all over the world, that Sherlock Holmes lives on Baker Street in London, that she has forgotten many past events, and even her own name.

Her name is Su Fu, from beginning to end, that's all.

"I can't possibly agree, don't bother!" she swore to Severus.

"All right……"

"What else can Dumbledore bring me?"

"A battered relic of the Dark Lord from his boyhood," Severus said, pulling out a chunky parcel wrapped in parchment.

The author has something to say: Is there a little fairy?