[Sherlock Holmes] The Legend of the Nightingale

(Manuscript by Dr. Watson)

Let me start by assuring you that Christmas in 1887 was a very pleasant one.Everyone is satisfied and welcomes the new year in a happy atmosphere.

Then I would like to add that in the eventful year of 1887, even Christmas was not peaceful.

In mid-December, a jewelry store robbery in London caused tens of thousands of pounds in damage, and the whole city was discussing this rampant crime.Because Holmes refused to help Scotland Yard (or so he thought it was), the case remained unsolved until Christmas Eve.The reason for the refusal was that he was busy taking Professor Moriarty to court.The professor did go to court, but Hattie Dolan, who had been in a trance since the blow, got worse and required sedation, was unable to testify.Holmes insisted that she was faking madness, but the question was a very ambiguous part of medicine.She ended up in a lunatic asylum instead of the gallows, and Moriarty was easily exonerated.Holmes was already mentally prepared and didn't get too frustrated, but after communicating the details with Angela, he was furious at her self-assertive behavior, and the relationship between the two who had just gotten better became rigid again.During the period, Holmes accidentally burned one of her books while she was still doing experiments, and the trouble was almost to the point of death.

I will now say that on the day before Christmas 1887 Peterson, the janitor, was in the kitchen gathering up a goose he had found as a bonus, and found the priceless sapphire in the crop.Holmes seemed to have had another argument with Angela in my absence.When we set out to find the source of the goose, he adamantly refused her participation, so we dumped Angela in 221B.The sapphire case ended perfectly, except for a little delay on Christmas Eve.The two women had prepared a dinner, and Mrs. Hudson had brought a goose, the size of a baby ostrich, to put in the kitchen until we got back.It seemed that 1887 was really going to end peacefully.

But Christmas in Baker Street isn't exactly like that.

"I'm curious what you have prepared for Angela this time." After the real thief of the sapphire left, I said casually.

"Actually, you know it, but you just don't remember it." Holmes locked the sapphire in the drawer casually, "mobilize your observation ability and memory."

"I did so, Holmes, but thought of something else." I went to the writing-table, and from among the papers I picked something out and put it on the table--a small metal snuff-box with a round disc on the front. Shaped depression, the original mosaic was pried off.Holmes saw me turn the thing over, and smiled apologetically, like a child whose prank has been exposed.

"Then I assume you know?"

"Of course." I said angrily and funny, "Although I don't know where this thing came from, but judging from the blank, the diameter and thickness are about the same as the amethyst you gave Nightingale."

"Actually, the pattern is enough to explain the problem. In addition to the usual fee, Earl Vonkram also included a souvenir. But I don't use this kind of thing."

"So you pried it off and gave it to Nightingale?!"

"What's the matter?" replied Holmes dryly. "She has no need of it, but she likes trinkets."

"Hopefully it's not about prying out the diamond from the Dutch royal's diamond ring and giving it to her as a Christmas present. It's too much like a proposal to just give her the ring."

"Watson, sometimes I think you should propose to someone with that diamond ring." The detective grabbed the snuff bottle from the table and threw it into the drawer.

"why?"

"So you can get married and move out of Baker Street. No, it's just a joke, dear doctor. I hope you will keep your head out of that snare for as long as possible. You have a present for Angela." ?”

"A diary."

"You are a complete genius."

"Award."

"My God, don't tell me you really think it's a compliment."

We took out our Christmas presents before the dinner party.At this moment Holmes tapped his fingers on the coffee table in the living room as if on a workbench.

"Nightingale, the gift I gave you may be a bit—exposed scars. But it has been delayed for so long, it is really unreasonable not to give it to you. The time is almost up, I can show it to you."

These words aroused the interest of everyone including Angela.With the mysterious look of a magician, Holmes carried a large box from his feet to the coffee table.Mrs. Hudson stared dumbfounded, while Angela was rather calm.The detective opened the lid of the box and took out one side - the clock.

Angela was taken aback.Neither Mrs. Hudson nor I remember how this happened, only Holmes saw the expected audience reaction like a magician.This was originally an ordinary clock with a dark wooden case, but the part above the dial has been modified, lengthened a bit, and it looks weird, with a dark plate added on it.

"This is……"

Holmes nodded to Angela.I just remembered the origin of this clock. They were unwilling to say Hatty Dolan's name. It was a gift she gave Angela back then.For a while, everyone didn't know what to say.

"Have you changed it?"

"Yes, it's too boring to put it on as it is. It's almost the hour, you can count down the clock, starting from ten—"

The few of us quietly watched the second hand move upward one by one, and finally pointed to the twelve directly above.The bell rang, and the secret door above the dial suddenly opened, and a wooden carved bird was pushed out by a spring, flew outward three times, then retracted quickly, and the secret door closed.

"Oh, a cuckoo clock!" laughed Mrs. Hudson. "You are very amusing, Mr. Holmes. It's a pity it can't chime."

"Precision mechanics is not my field. It has taken me a long time to make it like this." Holmes' casual tone could not conceal his complacent expression. "The appearance is not perfect, but at least it is not as monotonous as before. You still need a clock. Nightingale? Besides, Mrs. Hudson, I was a little inaccurate just now. Although I am not a professional, I should be able to tell that this is a..."

"Nightingale Clock, isn't it?" Angela smiled strangely, "I can't escape this biological classification for the rest of my life. If I can become famous in this industry one day, everyone will say that it's from Baker Street." Holmes and the Nightingale of Baker Street, note: Nightingale refers to birds, not to the surname Nightingale."

"I'm getting tired of your word games," said Mrs. Hudson, standing up. "Angela, go to the kitchen and clean up that goose. Mr. Holmes, please hang the 'Nightingale Clock' in the cupboard. "

"Happy to oblige, ladies."

Holmes stood up and made a gesture of taking off his top hat and bowing in front of him with his bare hands.The two ladies went out, and Holmes picked up the clock like a decorator to take it upstairs.

"In my personal opinion, you have done a better job than the last time," I said. "You are very versatile, Holmes."

"Oh, by watchmakers' standards, you think highly of me."

"No, I always mean it." I punched him on the shoulder, "Come on, let's decorate the lady's room."

At this time, there was a sudden "crash" in the kitchen, followed by Mrs. Hudson's scream and Angela's exclamation.Both Holmes and I fell silent.

"I have a hunch that 1887 might not want to let us go just like that," I said, looking into the kitchen.

"Come on, let's go and see."

As we entered the kitchen, we saw Mrs. Hudson and Angela both standing by the sink, staring intently at the marble counter.Both women had blood on their aprons.Seeing us come in, Angela carefully put the knife aside and pointed to the cutting board on the marble countertop.Again Holmes and I fell silent.

The molted goose had been cut open, and the cutting board was piled with at least twenty bracelets and necklaces and a large handful of rings and earrings from its belly cavity, including diamonds, gemstones and pearls, dazzlingly bright under the light.

Holmes and Angela exchanged a quick glance.

"If you ask me, the jewelry robbery has been solved," she said.

"Let Scotland Yard spend Christmas Eve." Sherlock Holmes leaned calmly on the doorframe. "Everything is here, and for whatever reason, they can't get away. Mrs. Hudson, I will suggest to Lestrade next time." , find you a job at Scotland Yard."

(God's perspective, or, a small episode)

Here is an explanation of what happened between Holmes and Nightingale on the morning before Christmas, in the absence of Dr. Watson.

When Mrs. Hudson heard that Peterson, the doorman, was looking for Holmes with a goose and a hat, she felt like the sky was falling.

"I'll call him, but I don't make any promises whether I can invite him down."

"That's not a problem, ma'am, I can just wait," replied the porter honestly.

"Please sit in the living room for a while."

Mrs. Hudson entered Holmes' room with the same feeling that the legendary hero enters the goblin's lair.As expected by our heroine, the young, handsome, deep and terrifying Mr. Devil has not yet woken up, the curtains are drawn, and the room is dark.Holmes has been in an intermittent state of decadence these two days, buried in the quilt motionless, only his black hair can be seen.

"Mr. Holmes," said the elderly heroine aggressively, "Petersen, the porter, wants to see you."

A worse response than being countered by a demon is not responding.Mrs. Hudson couldn't tell whether Holmes didn't hear her or simply ignored her, so she increased the decibel and raised her voice:

"Mr. Holmes, Peterson is waiting for you in the drawing room with a goose and a hat."

"Please let me be quiet for a while." An indistinct voice came from under the quilt.

"Mr. Holmes, I have no time to entertain your guest, nor can I keep him in the drawing-room forever. You had better do now—"

Mrs. Hudson was as confident as a high school teacher, and the righteous lesson was suddenly interrupted by a stormy rudeness.Holmes sprang up from the bed like an annoyed cat, and shouted:

"go out!"

The poor landlady was startled, but calmed down again, and she was used to it anyway.Nightingale was talking to the porter in the living room when she came down the stairs.Thank goodness, Mrs. Hudson thought, the kid is a little more comfortable with people, with whom...

Can you talk to anyone?

"Angela!" Mrs. Hudson shouted to Nightingale, who was looking up at her, as she ran downstairs. "Go and find Mr. Holmes downstairs!"

"Mrs. Hudson, what did you say" (if we say this in English, it is a rather dramatic "Whatdidyousay")

"Dr. Watson is not here. You are the only one in this house who can deal with Mr. Holmes. If you don't want to keep the guest waiting, let him come downstairs quickly. I don't care what you do."

"Is it okay to burn the house?"

"Angela, sooner or later I'm going to drive you both out!"

Mrs. Hudson pushed a smiling Angela up the stairs.

Well, Angela thought, let's see who wins, dear teacher.

However, just as she walked to the door of the room, before the hand that was raised to knock on the door fell, she heard a lazy and impatient greeting from inside:

"There's no need to knock, Nightingale."

Ah, that's not a good sign.She thought to herself, and pushed the door open.The darkness and the smell of smoke in the room made her frown.It was not until she approached that she could see that Holmes was sitting up on the bed, with bangs covering his brow and dark circles under his eyes.His pajamas were a little too loose, making him look even thinner.

"Nightingale—for God's sake don't ask me why I knew it was you—bring me the cigarettes." He reached out and groped on the writing desk for a long time, but found nothing.

"I don't know where."

"The living room fireplace."

"Oh, it seems so." Angela smiled slightly, "But I don't want to go."

Holmes looked up at her.

"What's your business?"

"Didn't you hear what Mrs. Hudson came up to say just now?"

"What did she say?"

Angela took a deep breath.

"Go down and see for yourself."

"Well, you win." After waking up, Holmes' mood was not as irritable as before. He made a final carpet search on the desk, "Do you know how you make me feel? If someone If you point a gun at me, you will die."

"The chance of this scene happening is almost zero." Angela felt amused, but kept holding back, "But I admit my malice, if one day you want me to bring co/ca/caine injections, I will definitely ignore you .Okay, you don’t need to look for it, it’s definitely not here.”

"Do you know how you feel to me now?" Holmes withdrew his hand and looked at her annoyedly. "Sooner or later, I will be killed by you."

He might have murmured something like "femme fatale" to himself before jumping out irritably and putting on his shoes.Holmes had been ignoring that Nightingale was a girl, but when she saw the collar of his pajamas, which was opened a little too low, her face was a little hot, and she turned and opened the door.At this time, Holmes, who combed his hair casually in front of the full-length mirror on the door, suddenly patted her on the shoulder.

"Nightingale, may I ask you to stay patiently at home until New Years, so that nothing else will happen before 1888?"

"What do you mean?"

Although he doesn't care much about his appearance in private, Holmes actually has the same clean habits as a cat.Just comb your hair neatly, button your shirt all the way, and the neat Mr. Detective will stand in front of you.He rolled Angela's bangs up, and continued in a sneering tone: "You should dress up during the holidays, Nightingale. Your Mr. Openshaw has come to see you several times. When you see him Looks like it."

"I don't know any Openshaws." Angela vigorously brushed back the hair that Holmes had combed her up.

The author has something to say: OK!This volume ends here.For the image of Holmes in the last paragraph, you can refer to the beginning of the episode of the Sapphire Case in the Adventure History of the Bright Edition of Sherlock Holmes, it is best not to open the barrage. . .And in the original book, the case happened on the second morning after Christmas. Some people said it was the 27th, but it was moved to the 24th for the sake of the plot.Maybe the timing of buying a goose is a little bit wrong, but the author doesn't care anymore_(:з」∠)_

Just now a reader praised the update and I might have to slap myself in the face... During this period of time, my thoughts have been a bit broken, the next volume is not very well conceived, and it is currently undergoing large-scale rectification, and this semester is busy with the School of Asylum Boom, the author is really going to be on hiatus for a while - but will be back as soon as possible!And I usually brush the comment area.Miss Morstan is about to appear, I don't want to keep the doctor waiting too long~ that's it, see you next time~~~