[Comprehensive] Great detective is haunted

"You're 5 minutes and 27 seconds late, Viky," Sherlock saw Vivi's trotting back, turned around and walked to the other side, "I assume..."

"No, professor! I think I found the first scene!"

Weiwei quickly reached out and grabbed Sherlock's hem.

Sherlock: ...

A little disgusted, but it's hard to say it.

Fortunately, another word immediately diverted his attention... the first scene?

He turned to look at his students.

When Weiwei ran over, there was a little sweat on his forehead, and he explained to him panting: "I have already run over."

Sherlock reached out and grabbed her hand, then tugged at his shirt: "Okay, take me there."

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Sherlock now has the urge to hang a koi sign on Vivi.

Really, this luck is really different.

If the crime scene can be found by buttoning her underwear, Sherlock even considers buttoning her buttons wrongly every day.

Of course.The materialistic Sherlock just thinks about it.

It is preliminarily predicted that the soil is similar to that between the fingers of the deceased. There are obvious messes on the grass, and some turf that was picked up directly. The kneeling posture judged by Sherlock before is also reflected here.An imprint on the grass.

Sherlock took pictures with his mobile phone, and took a few more pictures along the direction where the body was found.

"Tell Lestrade." Sherlock ordered lightly, and at the same time he backed away a little bit, he still knew to keep some traces for the pile of goldfish.

Obviously, the deceased had struggled violently, but then she complied...why?

Judging from the traces of the cobblestone road (there is cement underneath), the victim was thrown to the ground first, his hands were bruised, and then dragged to the grass by the suspect.At present, the posture taken by the suspect is back-entry-this is a very controlling posture, and he does not want the victim to see his face, and there is his preference for hair.

It is initially determined that the other party may have a fetish.

"Professor, Lestrade will be here soon." Vivi had finished making the phone call and moved closer to Sherlock.

Sherlock was holding his miniature magnifying glass to the soil beneath the turf.

"Did you find anything?" Vivi asked.

Sherlock's hand stopped for a moment: "I assume that I should be the one to examine you now."

Weiwei was stunned for a moment: "Ah, the deceased had struggled violently... Well, I can't see anything else."

"So you didn't notice the mark on the victim's knee when you were looking at the victim just now?" Sherlock sneered, "I guess your eyes were already flying behind your back at that time, wishing you could see the wrong button of your underwear from time to time. .”

Vivi: ...

I can't help but blush, okay?

"Viky, we have been able to restore this scene." Sherlock took out a handkerchief from his pocket, and then pulled out something from the grass, "Look, this is a necklace."

A necklace with drop-shaped sapphires.Don't know if the gem is real or not.

"Real product," Sherlock's lips twitched quickly, "and the color is excellent, this kind of sky blue is rare."

The sound of elephants trampling around came from behind, and Sherlock raised his eyebrows: "I guess, even if there are footprints, they will be destroyed by these elephants. Fortunately, I took pictures in advance."

"I thought Professor, you could analyze the result at a glance." Weiwei was embarrassed.

"Yeah, so it's for your analysis." Sherlock stood up, "Okay, since you've found the scene by mistake, we can go back and wait for the forensic report."

"Analyze me?" Weiwei was a little slow, and glanced at the footprints on the ground. Sherlock had taught her to memorize some basic data, such as the length of her hands, etc., for comparison. She currently looks at the shoes. Should be forty yards, looks like a big man.

She didn't squat for a long time this time, and she didn't get dizzy when she stood up. After carefully avoiding those footprints, she took a few quick steps to keep up with Sherlock's footsteps: "Judging height from footprints? Or judging weight from depth? Or judging shoes from shoe prints." The brand or something? I didn’t see it, and the grass marks will definitely change... Maybe what we see is slightly smaller than it is.”

"I understand the reason, so the result?" Sherlock walked like flying, he didn't want to deal with the people of Scotland Yard anymore, especially the new trainee forensic doctor, he could feel the hostility even if he was blind.

madness.

He made a definition in his mind.

"The height is between 175-185. According to the formula you taught, in this kind of soil..." Weiwei took out her mobile phone and called up the memo, "Um, wait a minute, let me do the math, it's about [-] kilograms."

Vivi thought about it.

"Professor, why do you say it's a serial murder...?"

"Viky, you just need to think one more step—" Sherlock said softly, "Obviously, the suspect's actions are clean, as a rapist—you know, I told you, the rapist group There are more people with lower IQs, because they can't even restrain themselves-his movements look very skilled, and he will leave souvenirs, which shows that he is most likely prepared in advance."

"I think it's very strange." Weiwei bit her lip, "Looking at the hair, it looks like it was cut off with a knife, which means he holds a knife."

"I think it's less likely to be a big knife... But if it's just a small knife, will it pose a great threat to the victim? I mean..."

"Don't forget, this kind of women who seem to run at night just on a whim, will succumb to the fear of fruit knives." Sherlock interrupted Vivi, "I hope you won't do such a stupid thing , preferably never. After all, if you die tragically on a park trail somewhere, I don't have the American time to go and save you."

Weiwei looked silly and sweet: "I shouldn't be such a stupid aerobic exercise professor. Your boxing class is enough for me. Besides, I've been locked in it all the time."

Sherlock didn't stop walking.

Of course, Weiwei standing behind him couldn't see the professor's sudden pursing of his lips.

One year is already long enough. You can apply for a graduate program within one year at the University of Cambridge. How could the teaching efficiency in Sherlock's hands be so low that it is not as good as a school full of goldfish.

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Sherlock didn't go back to Queen Street directly, but took Vivi to his brother's club.

When Weiwei was in the taxi, she wanted to speak several times, but felt that the professor seemed to be in a slightly depressed mood, so she didn't dare to interrupt—even though she noticed that the direction of the car was not Queen Street.

Weiwei was very unfamiliar with this street, she followed Sherlock closely, just like she always did.

When the door with the sign of the Diogenes Club was closed, it seemed as if the hustle and bustle outside had been shut off, leaving only a quiet room.An elegant waiter came up, and Weiwei was just about to speak on behalf of the professor (?), but found the professor glanced at her.

Do you mean not to let her speak?

Before Weiwei could react, she found that her professor was gesticulating with the waiter.

The professor did not teach Vivi sign language, which made Vivi more awkward in this environment, but she did not reveal too much, but pretended to be * and walked behind—well, it is rare that she does not need to be the professor's spokesperson, Enjoy it.

She secretly looked at this place, and deeply doubted whether Sherlock took her through the back door of Buckingham Palace. After all, this place looks very high-grade, the carpet under her feet is very soft, the lighting looks natural and comfortable, and the whole hall is very bright. .The waiter showed Sherlock the way politely, and when he walked to the porch and went inside, the doors on the side were all antique.

finally reached.

Pulling open the quaint door, there was no sound when the seemingly heavy door was opened.

It was Mycroft Holmes who sat in the taffy chair.

The door closed quietly.

"I don't think it's an appropriate choice to bring your student to my place of thinking, Sherlock," Mycroft said, sounding drawn-out and defiant, "he's very pampering to you, isn't he? viky."

Weiwei was a little unaccustomed to being called viky by people other than the professor, so she didn't respond awkwardly.

"I just came here to care about whether your weight loss plan is going well." Sherlock walked over to take a seat without paying attention to Weiwei's movements behind him, "I saw that there is still sugar precipitated under your black tea, if it wasn't for my brain Tell Zhuan Zhuan, I won't take another look at this kind of black tea."

He glanced at Weiwei, who immediately strolled over obediently like a little pet and sat down.

Sherlock is always very satisfied with Vivi's well-behaved affairs.But he usually doesn't talk.

"So nice."

It was Mycroft who spoke. He looked at Weiwei with a smile, and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes were wrinkled.

"If you want to say anything in your heart, just say it. If he gets angry, it's mine."

Sherlock snorted, and the teapot moved over to pour another cup of tea.

"If he is going to be angry about such a trivial matter, he is also a politician."

Realizing that the professor was instructing her to shoot at his brother, Vivi thought for half a second, and felt that although Mai Ge was powerful, at the moment, she was directly taking orders from Sherlock (actually, Vivi’s real purpose was that she wanted to complain too), So she said happily: "Actually, I don't really want to drink my husband's tea. I'm worried that I will be like him. It would be too inappropriate to stand by your side like that."

Weiwei tactfully added: "But since the professor poured it himself, I will drink it up completely."

Sherlock put the teapot back gently, leaned back in the chair, and looked at his brother with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

Mycroft didn't care, "Speaking of which, your students still call you a professor, Sherlock, I wonder if you've had enough of the teacher-student game."

wrd mother.

Weiwei was just about to pick it up—this is the tea her professor poured for her, and of course she would pick it up—when her hand almost trembled.

To be reasonable, it is obviously abstinence/desire/restricting the voice, why is it so shameful when you say the word "teacher-student py".

This kind of ridicule is not once or twice.

Sherlock usually doesn't care about it, and won't follow the topic.

But this time he went along.

"Call me K, Viky." He sat up straight again, holding the ear of the teacup, and took a small sip. He frowned because it was too sweet, "You don't need to call me Professor."