[Comprehensive] The victory of the second dealer

Lydia, who ate a cheeseburger, was in a good mood, so she didn't hang out too much, but went home and logged into the forum to open the lottery system.

The forum has a quota for custom autographs every week, and fans can choose who to sign. Therefore, although the price is relatively expensive, there are still many people who dare not ask the gods (goddesses) for autographs to kneel down and beg for payment .

But the lottery is all about luck, there is only one chance a week, and when the lottery is drawn depends entirely on Lydia's mood.

Lydia tilted her chair, touched a piece of chocolate by the computer and put it in her mouth. Feeling the sweet taste slowly dissipating in her mouth, she squinted her eyes and pressed the button for drawing lots.

At the same time, her cell phone on the table vibrated, and she picked it up while staring at the loading icon on the screen.

On the other end of the phone was the rich man who had just left. He seemed to be calling from some lively place: "Why don't you come out and have a lively night?"

A smile appeared on the corner of Lydia's mouth, she leaned back on the chair with a relaxed back, found a comfortable sitting position, and didn't ask how this person knew her mobile phone number, there are too many ways.

At this moment, this week's winners list appeared at the top of the forum. She clicked on the name and asked the other party to give a signature. She answered Tony with two purposes: "I remember that I just rejected this invitation an hour ago."

"That was an hour ago." Tony seemed to be a little away from the crowd, and the background sound became quieter, just as the customer's answer jumped out on the screen, Lydia snorted softly and said, "No—I will I have an appointment."

"—and Sherlock Holmes." Lydia said with a smile, "I won't disturb your beautiful evening. It is not a good habit to keep ladies waiting for a long time."

She said and hung up the phone.

Tony:?

Tony, who was hung up on the phone, felt a little uncomfortable inexplicably. He stared at the main interface of the phone and frowned: "Jarvis, who is Sherlock Holmes?"

"Mr. Stark," a big-breasted beauty slowly approached Tony from behind, her big breasts rubbed against his arm, and she showed him a charming smile, "Come dance with me?"

Stark glanced at the phone again, the caring butler Jarvis has sent Sherlock's basic information, some information is not very complete because it was hidden by the British government, but what Stark wants to see is not his Biography.

Lives in London, UK.

The big-breasted beauty shook his hand slowly, and Tony stuffed the phone into his pocket casually, followed the pull of the beauty, and swayed into the dance floor following the music.

Lydia's customer had already sent Sherlock's address and profile, as well as a photo. In the photo, the man was wearing a deerstalker hat, his skin was pale, and his face was very pale. fake smile.

She looks good, but her face is a bit long.

But Lydia didn't care what the object looked like, it was her benefactor anyway, and this order included a retake of the photo, so the base price was $5000.

This time, the customer was so angry that he had no objection to the price, and even offered to increase the price: [I only have one request, which is to give me a signed photo within this week, and I am willing to pay another $5000 after getting it. 】Okay!I like this kind of generous money master the most!

Since the customer is so generous, of course she can't be lazy, Lydia checked the time difference and the weather, and added a coat for herself.

She took out a small stack of banknotes from the drawer, put them in her modified trouser pocket, took her precious camera, and held $550, closing her eyes and silently reading the address given by the customer.

She felt the temperature difference before she even opened her eyes. The night in London is much cooler than New York, so it's just right to put on a coat. It's past eleven o'clock in the middle of the night in London, and there are not many people on the street.

Lydia appeared in a small alley not far from 221b Baker Street. When you walk out of the alley, you can see the house number of 221b. Passers-by who hurried past did not notice her appearance.

The target this time lives on the second floor, and it is said that he is a very powerful private detective, but Lydia on the other side of the ocean has never heard of his name.

Lydia straightened her clothes, crossed the road and knocked on the wooden door, and soon a spirited old lady answered the door: "Who are you looking for?"

"Hello, ma'am." Lydia smiled politely, speaking with a cadenced British accent, "I'm looking for Mr. Holmes."

"Oh," the old lady glanced at her, turned her head and shouted loudly, "Sherlock, your guest—"

Behind her was a staircase, and there was no response from above, the old lady called out again: "Sherlock—"

After waiting for a few more seconds, there was finally movement upstairs. A friendly-looking blond man came downstairs and called the old lady first: "Mrs. Hudson, please."

Lydia looked at him. This person was not mentioned in the information, so she didn't know his name. Her first feeling was that this person was a little shorter than Tony, and then she heard him say, "Client? Uh... first Go upstairs."

Lydia nodded towards him with a smile on her face. He seemed to take a step back uncomfortably, then turned around and went upstairs first.

Mrs. Hudson closed the door downstairs and went into the first-floor room.

Pushing open the door on the second floor, Lydia saw her target squatting on the sofa in pajamas at a glance, looking ahead without focusing, and seemed to be in a daze.

"Sherlock." The blond man beside Lydia called out, "Our client is here."

He turned his head to look at Lydia, with an embarrassed expression on his face, and said softly, "I am John Watson, and this is Sherlock Holmes."

Lydia opened her mouth and wanted to introduce herself. Sherlock who was in a daze suddenly turned his head and stared at Lydia. Not that long: "Stop talking."

His voice was deep and fast, and it sounded like he was enjoying himself, so Lydia obediently shut up and listened to him.

"You live nearby?" Sherlock jumped off the sofa, walked barefoot on the carpet, looked at Lydia from beginning to end, and said quickly, "Your pants are too thin, and Your jacket doesn't look like it matches, but it obviously fits well with your short-sleeved top, which means that you usually don't need a jacket in your environment, and the night in London is obviously not the temperature for you to wear short-sleeved, so You improvised a coat."

"The coat isn't wrinkled, it just came off the hanger, so you didn't come in a car, it just rained in the evening, and your shoes didn't get any water or mud, so obviously, where you came It's very close to here." Sherlock narrowed his eyes slightly after finishing his tirade, "The problem is, I haven't seen you, so where are you from?"

Lydia listened to his series of analysis, and finally couldn't help applauding: "It's very exciting."

"Ha." Sherlock uttered a tone, turned around, and the large blue nightgown, like a war robe, raised an arc in the air, and then stuck to his calf again.

He went back to the sofa again, but this time he was sitting properly, looking at Lydia sharply: "Tell me, who sent you here."

Lydia showed a surprised expression appropriately, frowned slightly and asked, "Sir, what do you mean?"

Watson stared wide-eyed at Sherlock, then at Lydia, and didn't say the last word. He looked even more surprised than Lydia, and looked so cute.

"Who sent you here?" Sherlock repeated, and then got up from the sofa. "Whoever sent you here, you are not welcome here—John, see off."

Watson lowered his head slightly, his expression was a bit tangled, but he opened the door immediately and said to Lydia, "Sorry, ma'am."

Lydia slowly took two steps towards the door. During these two steps, she thought about the countermeasures. She stopped suddenly at the door, turned her head to look at Sherlock, and said with a smile: "The analysis really It's very nice, but I don't live in the vicinity—hope Mr Holmes will be able to analyze my address when I visit the door tomorrow."

This was a blatant provocation, but Sherlock still accepted it. Lydia turned his eyes around his face, and turned the corner of her mouth to Watson who was beside her: "Thank you, there is no need to send it away."

Watson watched Lydia's slender figure disappear into the corridor, and hurried to the window to keep watching her closely: "Sherlock, she went to the alley next to 220."

"But that seems to be a dead end—" He waited for a while, but he didn't see Lydia coming out again, so he turned his head a little strangely, just in time to see Sherlock put on his coat, "Sherlock, where are you going?"

Sherlock didn't answer, and hurried downstairs to the alley. After confirming that there was no manhole cover on the floor of the alley, and the upstairs windows had never been opened, he finally showed a smile full of interest: "Interesting... "

His gray eyes gleamed in the dark with excitement.