[Comprehensive] Sherlock's Secret

"Damn bitch! How dare you lie to us—where did they go?"

Suddenly, there was a vicious shout, and a man with a vicious face grabbed the woman by the collar and threw her aside.

"I—cough, cough, cough, how do I know!" The woman tried hard to break his fingers, trying to get rid of him, but with little success, she was flushed and panting, the hood was struggling And when she fell down, Su Fu could clearly see her side face - she should be quite young, but she was still a very beautiful woman.

"They must have heard something and ran away by themselves-now this mess is thrown at us," another blond-haired, slightly younger man said angrily and angrily, "Now it's good, we may have been stared at up!"

The man with a face full of flesh let go of the woman in his hand - she coughed violently - the man kicked her and cursed: "The widow of the mourning star, whore/girl who only pleases men, now Don't you think it's cool, your girlfriends have all abandoned you, those damn little boys—his grandma's old man's wages haven't been paid yet!"

"Worrying about the wages..." Another person said, "Since they all ran away—then..."

All the eyes of the people present were focused on the coffin by the wall.

Including Sherlock and Su Fu.

No wonder they didn't notice any movement when they came last time. It turned out that the people here had already evacuated.

The woman lying on one side was still coughing slightly, and several men immediately lifted the lid of the coffin, revealing the lumps wrapped in kraft paper inside.

The entire coffin was built neatly, no wonder it took four people to lift it.

Several people exchanged glances, and under the dim light, they all saw joy and greed in their eyes. The yellow hair couldn't wait to grab a paper bag and tear off the wrapping paper, but in an instant, the expression of ecstasy on his face disappeared. It disappears like a curtain change—because what is inside is just a pile of neatly cut waste paper.

"how can that be!"

"I've watched it all the way from London...How is it possible! Money!"

The few remaining people looked at each other in blank dismay, and immediately opened all the remaining paper packages - without exception, they were all waste paper.

Su Fu sighed slightly.

Sherlock poked her arm suddenly, Su Fu turned his head and saw the woman quietly got up from the ground while the others were not paying attention, and slowly retreated to the corner next to the printing press, not knowing what she wanted to do.

Before finishing one thought, Sherlock dragged her and strode towards the woman. Su Fu was caught off guard and almost fell over by his pull. When he staggered and fell over—out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the woman struggling to pull her. The next heavy gate.

Several men are still complaining and cursing why the money in the coffin has become waste paper, while the woman in the corner has already pulled down the gate——

"Sting!" There was a long and heavy sound.

A rolling shutter door hidden behind the printing press opened in response, and the woman immediately let go—because of her lack of strength, the door was only half opened, and she slipped through with her nimble short body.

The heavy gate that had lost its tension slowly fell, and the door also fell heavily and slowly, Sherlock immediately pushed Su Fu over—a few men realized what happened, and ran towards this side screaming strangely— Su Fu bent over knowingly and slipped through the rolling shutter door, and the moment she slipped through, she waved her hand—the table with the engraving suddenly collapsed and blocked the steps of several men—at the same time, Sherlock bent over to wipe She straightened her body and drilled over.

Out of the secret door is a dark corridor.

"Chasing that woman."

He said something briefly, and immediately ran towards the depths of the corridor.

The men were yelling and opening the heavy gate.

However, at the exit of the corridor, there are three lanes diverging, all of which are narrow and short, and look almost identical in the dark.

There was a voice behind him, and he walked around the three entrances, as if he was trying to identify something, then suddenly waved his hand at Su Fu, and then dodged into one of the lanes.

"Ai!"

Su Fu yelled lightly, but had no choice but to run in too.

After walking for a certain distance, a little air flow suddenly rose in the silence of the underground passage, and a little wind sound flowed past Su Fu's ears. After a few minutes, they saw a little light.

Sherlock strode towards the spot of light, Su Fu followed behind him and suddenly called out: "Stay there and don't move."

Before he had time to turn around, he felt that she had hit the top of his head hard with something, and a stream of heat flowed down his back—he turned his head, and by the dim light, he saw her The transparent body gradually transformed into substance, and finally cast a dim shadow on the stone wall.

His own body also gradually materialized.

Sherlock looked at her, his vision was clear and sharp in the hazy darkness, like an analytical X-ray.

Su Fu squinted at him indifferently, and asked, "Aren't you going out?"

……

The exit of the underground passage was hidden under a pile of dense and messy vines. If they hadn't come out of it, no one would have noticed that there was a secret hole here.

There was no sign that the vines had been turned over by anyone. It was obvious that the woman who escaped at the beginning was not on the same path as them.

It was still dark.

As the moon rises and wanes, the sky is clear and bright, the inlaid morning star on the sky is particularly bright and dazzling, the clouds rise slightly, a few pinworms sound in the middle of the night, and the flowing water in the distance makes the night more peaceful and serene.

"What kind of place is this..."

As Su Fu spoke, he walked forward for a while. The location they were in seemed to be a low hill. A shallow stream flowed under the abrupt rock. Some vines and shrubs had already started to emerge in the narrow mountain stream. The withered yellowish color indicates that autumn is coming.

From a distance, she saw the outline of the city—the undulating ridges and the longitude and latitude of the streets, and the flickering lights scattered in it were like pearls on a dark plate.

"Ira."

"Ok?"

"This is the town of Ira," Sherlock walked to her and stood side by side with her on the rock. The wind blew his hair a little messy. The straight-line distance is about 5000 meters."

"That is to say, we just crossed a mountain of Carlox Mountain?"

"You can say that," Sherlock jumped off the rock, "but it may be a little shorter than you think. After all, we lasted less than two hours-won't you come down? Maybe we can reach Iraq before dawn." Take it to town."

"That woman just now is actually Luna Walter?"

"Obvious."

Su Fu sighed: "She put in so much effort, she had to let herself die—"

Sherlock stepped across the shallow creek and said: "The best way to destroy the evidence is a big fire - burn it cleanly, and if it wasn't for the funeral, how would the things in her hands be transported?" In the mine?"

"She turned out to be a currency smuggler—" Su Fu stared, "And...it's really a brainstorm to set up a workshop for counterfeiting and altering currency in an abandoned mine."

Sherlock just sneered inexplicably and said nothing.

When standing on the hill and looking up and down, the town of Yila seemed far away, but in fact it was not what Su Fu thought, it was very close instead.

It took them about an hour to reach the edge of the town, and the sky was still cloudy.

Along the way, the two of them fell into a tacit silence, talking occasionally, and it was only Su Fu who raised questions about the case just now, and Sherlock who answered briefly, and then walked one after the other on the quiet path at night until Arrive at a place where there is smoke.

The remnants of the falling lights in the town are silently on, the streets are deserted, the moon is gradually full, and it is covered by the floating clouds.

The dark and veil-like light and shadow embraced the whole town like a feather curtain. The church streets, attics and shop outlines in the distance seemed to blend in with the night. A shatter cut by the light reflected from the roadside window glass.

A night crow landed on the top of the black street lamp, staring at the two strange night crawlers.

"Four: seventeen in the morning." Su Fu took out his mobile phone and glanced at it, then said helplessly, "Wait for dawn."

quite a while.

Sherlock suddenly said: "Give me a cigarette."

Su Fu subconsciously retorted: "No—"

Sherlock showed a sly smile: "You really didn't throw it away, take it out."

Su Fu frowned: "I threw it away!"

"You didn't," he smirked, "I noticed the waste basket in your room, and there were no cigarette cases and lighters in it."

"I threw it outside!"

"Then you wouldn't refute my request just now, but should directly answer that you didn't."

Su Fu showed a calm expression, Sherlock walked up to her, stretched out his hand, and said in a low voice, "Su, give it to me?"

"Alas..." She shook her head helplessly, fumbled in her pocket for a while, and took out a box of squashed cigarettes and a lighter.

He took it, leaned against the street lamp, took a cigarette between his lips and lit it, and then put the cigarette case and lighter into his pocket in a grand manner.

A thin, lingering cloud of smoke rises from the slightly cold air in the middle of the night, and it dissipates in an instant.

His slender fingers with the smoke in the blue smoke are almost transparent like cold jade, and the dim and yellow street lights cut his slender figure like a thin and cold engraving, carved on the background of the night, floating The smoke was stained with the heavy cold dew in the early morning, blurring and softening the original sharp outline of the painting.

Su Fu sniffed, and suddenly approached him sideways, brushed his fingers along the hem of his clothes, and when she stepped back, she already had a cigarette in her hand.

She shook the cigarette at Sherlock: "The last one."

Then Sherlock took out the empty cigarette pack, crumpled it up and threw it in the trash.

The cigarette twirled twice between her slightly pale fingers, and finally she put it on her lips.

"Bow your head." She bit her cigarette, her voice was a bit vague.

Sherlock lowered her head slowly, she took a step forward, slightly tiptoed to borrow the fire, her forehead was pressed against his, and the red sparks spread in the dark night between her warm breath - when she stepped back, the tiny sparks jumped and divided into more Small halves, a puff of smoke dissipates between them.

"You're too tall..." Su Fu muttered.

Sherlock replied with an irrelevant sentence: "I thought that your good living habits would not allow you to smoke."

Su Fu squatted under a billboard, and said casually: "I used to have a lot of work pressure and couldn't find a way to relieve it. Sometimes I would smoke."

She thought for a while and added another qualifier: "Very little."

After the silence, he suddenly asked, "How did you do it?"

Su Fu raised his eyebrows: "Are you talking about not smoking, or—"

Sherlock didn't answer, but she instantly understood what he meant.

"Didn't you guess it a long time ago? It's just a little special ability." She paused for a moment, saw that he was silent, raised her head suddenly, and frowned, "You don't want to send me to the National Secret Research Institute or something like that." Do live experiment research?"

"Hum—in that case," Sherlock said, more casually than she had just said, "you and I are accomplices—how do you say that in technical terms?"

Su Fu corrected him: "Accomplice."

"Good accomplice," he flicked the cigarette in his hand, and the ash and sparks fell silently, "We are accomplices, and places like the National Secret Research Institute may take me away with you—— Hopefully they won't be interested in a high functioning antisocial brain construct."

"Hey!" Su Fu stood up, "I think they will be interested!"

"Really?"

Sherlock tilted his head, his calm and gloomy eyes met hers, and the two looked at each other for a second.

Then they laughed out loud at the same time.

The night crow on the top of the street lamp was startled by the sudden laughter in the quiet night, and it spread its wings and flew away with a strange cry.

Finally stopped smiling, Su Fu rubbed his cheeks, and said solemnly: "You said that, you won't send me to be tied to a cross and burned to death..."

Sherlock tousled his hair, "Are you a heretic?"

"Anyway, it's—oh," she blinked, paused for a moment, and said suddenly, "—when did you start to doubt me?"

Sherlock threw the burnt cigarette into the trash can, and said teasingly, "You can guess."

Su Fu shook his head helplessly: "I guess you haven't stopped doubting me since the moment I moved to Baker Street?"

Sherlock smiled briefly, "You know—"

"Of course I know." Su Fu shrugged, "I want to hide it from you unless I use some special means."

"Like just now?"

"more or less……"

"At first I thought you were an agent sent by Mycroft to spy on me," Sherlock said slowly, "with quick thinking and extraordinary skills—but soon I discovered that you are not under his control, he even... treats you a little Guard."

"He just didn't get to know my details. Your brother has always been cautious, and I'm afraid he won't have much trust in a stranger—you continue."

Sherlock leaned against the lamppost and said: "I tried to check your identity information, but everything I got was very normal, perfect to the point of no flaws, including your enrollment records, work records, interpersonal relationships, etc. I even used my contacts at the Ministry of the Interior, but still nothing—”

Su Fu narrowed her eyes and smiled. It would be strange if he could find out. The falsification of artificial information will indeed leave clues, but the problem is that she used magic——specially looking for acquaintances and acquaintances from the Muggle Liaison Office of the Ministry of Magic. She did it together.

"What's even more incomprehensible is that your social network is clearly complete, but your friends and relatives—all know very little about you, such as Jasmine Amber, and colleagues from your former work unit... leading to this There are only two possibilities for this situation, either you are not good at interpersonal communication, but I know from getting along with you that you are not, or-they simply... don't know you."

Su Fu laughed and remained silent.

After a while, Sherlock changed the subject: "You made up that orphanage murder?"

Su Fu teased, "Yes, children's literature almost fooled you."

"It's just almost," Sherlock emphasized, "There are too many doubts - the glass windows of Michael Smith's house, there are no traces of crocodiles crawling on the ground, the monitoring of the community, etc., I just-"

He paused, as if looking for the right words.

"You just believe too much in what you see with your own eyes," Su Fu added indifferently, "you know, the clever way of blinding one's eyes is—half truth and half falsehood, not distinguishing the true from the false."

She continued: "So Michael Smith is indeed an adopted orphan, and the former director of the Andrea Orphanage is indeed Anne Gross, but she now moves to Minnesota, USA, instead of living in London. "

"Those traces of information were made by Mycroft?"

Su Fu nodded.

"Oh——" Sherlock punched the lamppost, and the peeling paint fell down, "If my mother didn't worry about it, I really want to beat him so that he can't get out of the hospital bed for half a month."

Su Fu said with rare kindness: "He is also doing it for your own good..."

Sherlock glanced at her: "How much does he pay you to speak well of him?"

"No..."

After a while, Sherlock asked slowly: "So that case—"

"Of course," Su Fu shrugged again, "it wasn't done by humans."

"What is it?"

Su Fu pursed his lips, thinking about how to define a reaper, but after thinking for a long time, he couldn't come up with a reason, so he could only say: "A very disgusting monster."

Sherlock frowned, but still asked, "Do you feed on humans?"

Su Fu nodded silently.

"It wants to eat a man named Sherlock Holmes?"

"Huh-huh?" She raised her eyes suddenly.

Sherlock stared at him with deep eyes, but his tone remained nonchalant: "So you approached Sherlock Holmes to take the opportunity to capture that monster, or—to protect him?"

After a moment of silence, Su Fu replied: "... both."

"Well," Sherlock smiled coldly, with a bit of sarcasm and resignation, "so you are a...special ability user? Mycroft knows who you are, but I—"

"Sherlock." Su Fu called him, feeling the burning pain between her fingers in a trance, and quickly lowered her head - the cigarette had burned to the end, and the flames spread to her fingers, she immediately threw away the few remaining cigarette butts, Whispered, "Do you believe me?"

As she spoke, she looked up at him, but there didn't seem to be any special emotion in his deep green eyes, as calm and thorough as ever, he said: "Of course—of course I believe it."

"Why did you repeat it on purpose?" Su Fu raised his eyebrows lightly and slowly, before he could answer, he continued, "Because you are not sure—look, you were still testing me just now, you often How can it be possible not to know the concept of accomplices when dealing with criminal offenses?

From the beginning, the first emotion you bring to Sue Frank is only suspicion, and it has never subsided until now.

You are too wise and sensitive, so you habitually want to see through everything. You feel that there are too many secrets in me, so you subconsciously expose them—don’t refute, didn’t you deliberately move to my next door to explore my secrets? "

Su Fu smiled and stopped talking, Sherlock's lips moved a few times slightly, but in the end he didn't really refute her.

"I have a very respectable professor who often talks to me about trust. He believes that trust is an emotion, a combination of thoughts, feelings and actions. You can clearly feel my kindness—" She stood on Sherlock's side On the opposite side, leaning forward slightly, both hands reached out to grab his hand at the same time, held it backhanded, looked into his eyes and said, "So——trust me."

After a while of silence, he slowly withdrew his palm back.

"...Is your professor surnamed Dumbledore?"

Su Fu smiled in surprise: "You know?"

Sherlock raised his shoulders and said, "I accidentally saw your letter."

"Oh, I often correspond with him," Su Fu said, "He always thought that he was the only one among all my contacts who still kept in touch, so he very much agreed that I would investigate the case with you."

"You don't suffer from depression."

"No," Su Fu sighed slightly, "It's just that I lived away from the world for a long time, about...about ten years."

Sherlock said dryly, "That must be boring."

Su Fu turned to look at him, and said, "Yes, of course it's boring without you."

Sherlock smiled very shallowly for a moment, and said half-complainingly: "Most people don't like those cases, only I do."

"Yes," Su Fu suppressed a smile, "I'm probably the same as you."

"You overturned what you said earlier."

Su Fu waved his hand: "This is an exception, I usually make the final decision."

"—when you read the verdict?"

The smile on Su Fu's face froze, but he only squinted his eyes for a while, and said, "How can this be compared?"

"So——" Sherlock gathered the collar of his clothes and leaned slightly towards her, as if waiting for a definite answer, "My reasoning is correct...the criminal judge?"

"Hey..." She sighed and muttered, "You are really amazing..."

"But it's still not right," he said with a little doubt, "According to your age, it is impossible for you to be in a Chinese court—"

"How do you know it's China—or," Su Fu interrupted him with great interest, "how do you know that I used to be a judge?"

"Familiar with criminal theory - you corrected Sergeant Donovan's slip of the tongue at the scene of Michael Smith's death for the first time, and you will inadvertently carry legal vocabulary in your speaking habits, and you can easily find Alfred The loopholes in Green's contract show that you have a unique vision, but these professional fields are not covered by ordinary people, that is, you have worked in a legal-related profession.

You are calmer and more rational than the average person, you will not be emotional when dealing with things, you have never been biased, you have strong logical thinking ability, and you are very sensitive to criminal cases-I once thought you were a lawyer, but you have a strong sense of justice. You must know that sometimes lawyers do not Need to be overly rigid. "

He slightly turned his eyeballs to glance at Su Fu, and continued, "You pay special attention to procedural fairness, which can be seen from the fact that you have repeatedly prevented me from entering strangers' private houses through windows, and you also have a strong control over the scene, because you used to control Follow the progress of a court trial—I have also read your book, the writing habits are very strict, and most of them are professional terms, and the format of some document fragments involved in it is very standard..."

Su Fu smiled and said, "So you have been testing me since I first moved to Baker Street."

"Only a few times." Sherlock retorted casually.

"For example, let me ask Fernanda Oates specifically to see if I am familiar with the interrogation procedure? Or deliberately misstate the accomplice to see if I will correct it?"

"Alexis, and—"

"Okay, okay," Su Fu covered his ears with one hand, and waved the other at him, "Don't list it for me, I don't want to recall it again, it's not fun at all—"

"What else? China—just because I can speak Chinese?"

"Of course it's more than that..." Sherlock said, "You mentioned to me about property rights, I checked some information, your theory is very similar to German property law, Germany is a civil law system, and you are currently in the England - supposed to be more familiar with the common law system, but you have no concept of natural law, or even the famous 'Hayden v Murdochland case', so I guess you're in a statute law country."

"Plus I can speak Chinese? So it's China—"

The corners of Sherlock's lips twitched, and he pulled away a determined smile: "I wasn't sure about it before, but in the mine you saw that underground workshop said—'170th Three'."

Su Fu didn't react for a while: "Huh?"

He held up the search page of the phone to Su Fu's eyes: "Article 170 of the "Chinese Criminal Law", the crime of counterfeiting currency."

Su Fu: "..."

Amazing my brother, she just subconsciously said it casually, without even noticing herself, Sherlock actually heard it clearly.

She sighed sincerely: "It's amazing, I admire it."

Sherlock said with a smile: "Actually, there is a very obvious clue that has always been in front of my eyes—"

"what?"

He stretched out his finger and wrote a few letters in the air: "S—u—e, your name."

Su Fu was stunned for a moment, then laughed: "It's a complete coincidence. My mother didn't name me 'Judgment' because she foresaw that I would become a judge. Speaking of which...Su is actually my surname, I should It's called Su Fu."

"Sue—what?"

She looked up at the sky, and the galaxy was filled with frosty air. Her voice was so low that she could hardly hear it: "...the green bamboo enters the path, and the green radish brushes the clothes."

"What are you reading——Chinese poetry?"

"Tang poetry," Su Fu wrinkled his nose, "it doesn't matter..."

"However," Sherlock continued, with some uncertainty in his voice, "these clues can only prove that you were a Chinese judge, but they cannot tell me when you worked in China—as far as I know, China's civil/official/officials can only be served by citizens of their own country after passing the exam, you are British, and-"

He suddenly stopped talking, frowned and looked at Su Fu with an indescribable expression: "You know the pomade brand half a century ago, the apartment on Four Maple Street was built 40 years ago, the lamp and camera you used They're all very old, so..."

His brows furrowed deeper: "What the hell--"

Su Fu looked down at her slender, white, young fingers with delicate skin, as if she could pass through the gap of light and shadow between them, and saw the winter morning when she woke up many years ago, Hogsmeade was covered with fluffy snow, and The warm light of a crackling fire in the fireplace.

After a while, she said slowly, "Sue Frank, 22 years old, that's right."

Sherlock looked sideways at her, and said in a low and gentle voice, "What about the other people? For example - Wingwig Leichter."

Su Fu stared at him intently, his expression was unclear, his lips were tightly pressed, and he remained silent for a long time.

His cell phone rang suddenly, breaking the silence.

Sherlock picked it up and took a look, before hanging up without hesitation.

However, within two seconds, the bell rang again persistently.

Su Fu guessed: "Your brother?"

Sherlock answered the phone and said mercilessly, "I'm assuming you have something important and need to call me at five o'clock in the morning."

On the other end of the phone, McCoff didn't know what he said. He slightly rolled his eyes and glanced towards Su Fu, and said, "You can use satellite positioning... Su and I will wait where we are, see you later."

"Your brother came to Yila Town?" Su Fu just finished asking, but felt it seemed impossible, and clicked his tongue, "What's going on?"

"There is something wrong with him, and I need to go over there to help."

Su Fu raised his eyebrows: "London?"

Sherlock answered absently.

It didn't take long for her to hear the roar of helicopter propellers faintly in the air.

"Actually..." Su Fu stroked his hair, which was blown tousled by the wind, "It doesn't need to be so troublesome at all, I can take you to London—er, the process may not be very pleasant."

In the darkness of night, a helicopter landed in a distant open space, and the airflow blew the surrounding saplings and grass tottering.

Sherlock shook the collar of his windbreaker, looked down at her with his head down, and his gaze was sharp and sharp from a slightly tilted angle: "You didn't answer my question just now."

"I owe you a chance to tell a story," Su Fu said, "if you are willing to understand."

"How many secrets do you have?"

"A world."

The author has something to say: Come on, reach out to catch this [-]-word update, and feel sorry for your brother for three seconds.

I'm not stuck today, I haven't saved my manuscript anyway, I'll finish it if I want to, roll my eyes to jpg.

Put the lid on the pot and run away.