[TV] She forgot again

The house is very old, completely out of touch with contemporary society, revealing a deep sense of bleakness and loneliness.

"There are sundries and uncle's birdcage in the cellar. There used to be a lot of mice in the house, but uncle got rid of them when he came back." Janet led them to her brother's room.

"Sir, what's next to the fireplace?" Nicole looked at the old object and asked.

"It's the stove, but they always have problems." Mr. Wilson replied enthusiastically instead of Sherlock.

"Your nephew has the habit of reading at night." Sherlock wandered around the room, followed by a small tail.Even though many people are here, Nicole doesn't like the atmosphere here.

"Yes, he suffers from insomnia. But, why do you..." Mr. Wilson was a little surprised.

"Tsk, the pile on the carpet on the right side of the armchair has traces of wax oil, and it looks thicker. It's an old habit. What is it?" Sherlock stopped near the window, looking intently at the upper part of the wall .

Without hesitation, he jumped onto the window sill casually, stretched out his slender white hands and gently touched the wall, and then gently smelled it.

Frowning, Sherlock climbed down the window sill, his gray jewel-like eyes fixed on the ceiling, and he circled the room slowly, muttering, "That's weird."

Nicole leaned over and took a look: "Sir, is there anything wrong?"

"I'm just interested in the upper part of the wall, the cause of those strange swirls and lines on the plaster." Sherlock wiped his hands and thought quietly.

Nicole glanced at the dirty wall, wondering how Mr. Detective could see so many things.

Mr. Wilson said a little loudly: "It must be those nasty cockroaches that carry the dust everywhere. Janet, I told you before, supervising the servants' work. They are always lazy!"

"What do you think, Mr. Holmes?" then Mr. Wilson asked.

"Disorderly clues." Sherlock put his hands in his pockets and wandered aimlessly around the room.

"Then let's go back!" Nicole has not given up the idea of ​​leaving here quickly.

Sherlock patted Nicole's head as well as ever, "Would you mind showing me your canary?"

"Of course, this way." Mr. Wilson enthusiastically took Sherlock and Nicole to see his baby.

On the way here, Sherlock got a general idea of ​​Mr. Wilson's work and previous experiences.Well, in fact, even if you don’t know him, you can know it clearly. All this is just to divert the energy of a young girl who is scaring herself.

Mr. Wilson's job was to train the canaries.Then these cute little things can help those who suffer from insomnia with their smart and melodious singing voice.Pepperino was his most powerful canary.

In one bedroom, dozens of birdcages hung from floor to ceiling, and the little things in the golden feathers in the cages were animated.

"Sir, in many detective novels, animals are the murderer's sharp weapon. It is very likely that the canary's cry scared the rest of the Wilson family to death." This time Nicole can communicate with Sherlock in Italian.

The girl with a big brain is no longer trembling, she puts all her mind on guessing the truth.

"Shut up Nicole. I finally know what's in your head, which is smaller than a goldfish." Sherlock ruthlessly denied Nicole's conjecture, and satirized her poor memory by the way.

There are so many useless things stuffed into the poor memory that was originally small!

Really, disgusted...

But thinking about what Nicole said, Sherlock suddenly had a flash of inspiration.

"I'm afraid I can't solve your problem, so let's leave first." Sherlock suddenly raised his head and said to Mr. Wilson, politely and smiling.

"It's a pity, but thank you very much, Mr. Holmes." Mr. Wilson didn't look very disappointed, and he personally sent Sherlock and Nicole away.

Nicole, who was walking beside Sherlock, was obviously in a better mood, and even walked happily.

"Go to the nearest hotel." Sherlock told the driver as soon as he got into the taxi.

"Shouldn't we go back?" Nicole's eyes widened, expressing that she didn't understand why she was staying here.A delicate and charming little face immediately swelled into a bun after hearing the news.

"No, the answer is right in front of us. How can we go back without solving the mystery?" Sherlock sat in the car, calm and wise.

"Mister already knows what's going on? Why didn't you..." Nicole was interrupted mercilessly.

"Move your rusty brain, Nicole. Tell me what you see?" Sherlock straightened his back, crossed his fingers, and rested them lightly on his knees.

Well, Mr. Detective can present himself so gracefully and seductively no matter where he is, no matter what time he is.

"Strange bedroom layout, and Mr. Wilson's attitude." Nicole answered after thinking about it.

Her keen senses made her feel that Mr. Wilson seemed to be hiding something, although he was hiding it well.

Sherlock speaks very fast, which is his usual style when reasoning cases: "A man from Cuba, he not only trains canaries in a strange way, but also knows the call of tropical nightingales. The chimneys in the cellar and The stoves in the other bedrooms are connected. And the swirls of soot on the ceiling."

"Tropical nightingale? What the hell is that?" Nicole was surprised that Sherlock had analyzed so many things.Well, as expected of being the only consulting detective.

Apparently, Sherlock also didn't expect Ni to remember what Mr. Wilson had said earlier when he showed them the canary.

"Everything will be revealed at night." Sherlock was a little excited, but he was good at whetting people's appetites.

Just like now, he obviously already knew the answer, but he only gave clues, but didn't tell Nicole the final answer.

The driver quickly dropped them off at the nearest restaurant, and it took Sherlock three minutes and 3 seconds to get Nicole out of the car.

Time goes back to 3 minutes ago.

"Sir, I can go back by myself and stay at home until you come back." Nicole sat on the other side of the seat, as far as Sherlock opened the car door.

After knowing that Mr. Detective had to go back to the gloomy old house tonight, Nicole was in a bad mood.

"Don't forget your identity." Sherlock stood outside the car door, looking coldly at the cheating girl.

"Although I'm a black household now, you can't force me to do anything, sir."

After Sherlock saw Nicole's ID for the first time, he ruthlessly exposed its authenticity and satirized the rough workmanship by the way.

"No." The next day Sherlock hacked into the UK's population management and statistics system and established a new identity for Nicole Stewart.

However, he didn't intend to tell his little assistant.

But Nicole thought Sherlock was negating her previous answer.

"Whatever my status is, I won't go back anyway!" Nicole hugged the back of the front seat, refusing to let go.

"If you don't come out within three seconds, your arrest warrants will be all over the UK in one minute." Sherlock took out his phone and played with it in his hand, his words were extremely gentle.

"Or, be a competent assistant." Obediently stay by his side.

Nicole looked at the smiling Mr. Detective and felt a strong sense of threat.She jumped out of the taxi quickly, and Nicole was 100% confident that Mr. Detective would do what he said.

……

The big bell of Nicholas Church is ringing, ten solemn bells means ten o'clock at night.

Nicole and Sherlock returned to the Wilson family's house again.Caged in the fog, the house has almost no light, like a monster lurking in the dark.

Nicole, who was following Sherlock, watched as Mr. Detective reached out and opened a side door swiftly, and then walked to the only dimly lit room upstairs in a dark voice.

The old house at night made Nicole even more creepy, let alone breaking in without turning on the lights.

Do not turn on the light - one of the necessary skills for ghost movies.Thinking of this, Nicole unconsciously clenched the corner of Mr. Detective's clothes.

In the darkness, Nicole felt her other senses became more sensitive.Mr. Detective's steady and long breathing, the sound of small footsteps on the stairs, the sound of worn bricks and tiles that have been in disrepair...

Sherlock gently unlocked a door again, which was Janet's room.

"Please don't make a sound, Miss Wilson, although we rushed in, we didn't mean any harm." Sherlock comforted the frightened Janet with a gentle voice.

Janet was wearing a wide, medieval-style nightgown, with her hair hanging down her shoulders.Her frightened eyes watched the two suddenly appear in the light of the candle.

Janet asked with some fear: "Mr. Holmes? Haven't you already left?"

"Now please follow my instructions, and everything will go well. We will reveal the truth for you and save your life." Sherlock replied calmly.

Janet's eyes widened, and she didn't accept the content of Sherlock's words.

Sherlock said seriously: "Now, you move to your late brother's bedroom. Nicole and I will occupy your room for a while."

His pale and stern face was somewhat ghostly illuminated by the faint candlelight.

Sherlock spoke again: "If you value your life you don't leave that room, and don't alarm your uncle."

With a sob, Janet questioned herself: "What do you mean by that?"

"Okay, tell me first, is your uncle visiting you tonight?" Sherlock lowered his voice, but it was even more deep and magnetic.

"Look. He took his favorite Pepperino and put it in the birdcage in my house." Janet paused, and then said, "Because it's my last night at home, So he wanted me to have a sweet dream."

"I knew it! This will be your last night. Miss Wilson, please tell me, do you have a genetic heart disease?"

Janet nodded.

"But..." Janet feared for her life.

"Don't worry, Miss Wilson. Mister's reasoning will not be wrong, and you will be fine tonight. So be obedient and don't disturb anyone." Nicole gently stroked Janet's hair, hypnotized.

Don't chat in the dark at night~

After the two confirmed that Janet had safely entered the next room, Sherlock took Nicole back to Janet's room, closed the door, and blew out the dispensable candles.

"Sir, what are we going to do next?" Nicole didn't plan to worry about the lighting anymore, although she was terrified to death.

"Wait, Nicole. Wait for the evil to manifest." After finishing speaking, Sherlock grinned and gave Nicole a "comforting" smile.

Looking at Mr. Detective's gleaming white teeth, Nicole almost slapped him on the face.

"Sir, do you think it's better for you to tell me the truth of the case now, personally? Or should I just drag Mr. Wilson out of bed and hypnotize him to get what I want to hear?" Nicole Holding himself, a little shivering.

The weather in the suburbs is always worse. Nicole, who was going out in a hurry, now feels very cold.

Sherlock looked at the little assistant who threatened him: the fingernails lost their blood from the cold.Unconscious self-protection actions, staying away from windows and doors, expressing fear of an unknown environment.The high concentration of attention caused the body to tense up, and huddled into a ball because of the low body temperature...

The next second, Sherlock took off the navy blue scarf around his neck.

Then, throw it on the table...

Under Nicole's inexplicable eyes, Sherlock coughed lightly: "It's a little hot."

(⊙-⊙)!Nicole stared, her already agile star pupils were stared round, and her slender and curly eyelashes were distinct.

She was almost dying of cold, but Mr. Detective felt hot?

How passionate this should be about the case!

Looking at the fluffy scarf, Nicole grabbed it without thinking.Touching the scarf that still had Mr. Detective's body temperature, Nicole wrapped it around her bare neck.

Satisfied sigh, the frozen brain cells are not enough for Nicole to think about anything strange or unnatural.

"Wait, sir, you haven't answered my question yet." Nicole buried half of her face in the scarf.

Hmm... There was a taste of aloofness and abstinence that fascinated her.

Sherlock sat relaxed on the seat: "Now, take a closer look at this room, and then combine the clues I said before."

Nicole looked at the house seriously, the wallpaper was peeling off, mildew had leaked out in some places, the old stove, the old fireplace...

Think again about the clues Mr. Detective said before...clues...lines...cables...

Nicole stared at the fireplace, her eyes looking a little dull.

"You forgot." Sherlock stated in a very sure tone.

There was no special expression on his face, unlike the contemptuous look at Nicole a month ago.However, Nicole still saw his disgust hidden under his handsome skin.

"Pay attention to the hinged lid on the top of the stove, over the hearth opening. Is there a tinplate lid on an iron stove just for looks?" Sherlock's piercing eyes flicked to the fire next to the fireplace.

"You...mean..." Nicole immediately thought of the interconnecting chimneys in the cellar and the stoves in the bedrooms.

"Mr. Wilson's purpose is to do something through these connected chimneys. If the purpose is... I think it is possible to get rid of his relatives and obtain property." Nicole followed Sherlock's train of thought to express her own conclusion .

"Well, it's still close to the truth." Sherlock reluctantly nodded in agreement. He crossed his legs and changed to a more comfortable position.

"However, it is Mr. Wilson's cruelty and rich imagination that give this case a horrible and weird color." The corner of Sherlock's mouth curved into a somewhat pleasant smile, "Finally, it is not a boring case."

The author has something to say:

There is a lot of pressure to write a case, and I am afraid that the writing will not be good. (︶︿︶)

Now it should be updated every two days ~ 8 am ~ <(￣︶￣)/