[Sherlock Holmes] The Legend of the Nightingale

Perhaps because he could not leave any honest black and white letters with the professor for two years, Nightingale almost gave up the habit of keeping a diary when he returned.While working in Manchester, all her written records belonged to work notes, and the frequency was much lower than before.Later evidence also showed that she never deliberately put the case in writing.Neither McMurdo nor Iris had any taste for writing in notebooks.Probably nothing has been written about her except herself, and a few words in Watson's manuscripts.But her literary foundation is not so easily wiped out.If Holmes had seen these notes, he would have said that she wrote her private work notes more like a novel than Watson's published novel.

(Nightingale's notes)

McMurdo dropped me off at the office and went home.I have declined Iris's invitation to move into their home, and the two McMurdo families have been a disaster beyond measure for myself.I don't need to find another place to live alone, I just live in the office.Both of us went out to handle cases today, and Iris came home early.The door cubicle is the secretary's desk, and Iris comes to open the door every morning—or I open the door for her.McMurdo usually did not appear until an hour later, and they were never able to act together.

Close the door from behind, and I'm alone again.

The windows of the office looked out onto the street, and all that was needed to convert the office into a private residence was a thick curtain, the only downside being that the gloomy room was darker.I didn't turn on the light, took off my coat and hung it on the hanger, and sat down on the sofa.It's not closing time yet, but as soon as the curtains are drawn, as long as no one knocks on the door, the day will be over.Even if someone comes to the door, if it's not a life-threatening accident or an emergency, I don't plan to accompany you today.Maybe it was the long-term poor rest that finally broke out. The whole journey felt as if my mind was going to explode, and it was only when the surroundings were completely dark that I felt a little quiet.

Are you too?Daytime thinking exhausts the mind, it goes on for so long that you find it impossible to stop when you don't need to think, and you can't even when it's dark, the daytime thoughts unfold in your mind like a huge web.But you want to rest, so you inject into your blood what ordinary people fear, as long as it can make you fall into a dream.Not at all for your so-called thrill, right?Because that's not stimulation, it's total relaxation.You just want to be quiet.You can no longer hold strong feelings, and you don't have the strength left for anything else.

If it wasn't for the hesitant knock on the door outside, I would still sit like this for a long time.The secretary is not here, so I will open the door myself.This kind of feeling of guilt is not good. I have already planned to say no before I meet anyone, but I really don't even have much energy left to feel guilty.

"Good afternoon," I said, but more polite but nonchalant words stuck.Standing outside the door was the old gentleman with the book at the gate of the police station.Seeing my startled expression, he must have smiled as he took off his hat, revealing a set of ill-shaped teeth.

"Good afternoon, sir." I repeated hesitantly.

"Good afternoon, Miss Nightingale--I suppose?" he said in a hoarse Oxford accent.

"Yes, sir."

"If I had been in Manchester longer, I should have known your name, but unfortunately I have only been here for less than a month."

"It doesn't matter, sir. My current reputation has actually greatly exceeded my due. What's the matter?"

"I hope Miss Nightingale will remember that I took the liberty of expressing a little opinion on the Manfred theft this morning."

"Yes, sir."

"I must ask your forgiveness for being so blunt. But this is not the subject of this discussion. Can we talk more about it?"

"I'd love to, sir, but my partner is out and I'd prefer to talk to the client while we're both in the office."

"Your partner doesn't look like someone I'd like to turn to, Miss Nightingale. The matter is more urgent."

"I think that means it can't be postponed until tomorrow."

"I strongly recommend that no one else be present."

Relieved by the gentleman's gentle tone and careful choice of words, and ultimately not daring to neglect a potentially disastrous mission, I let him in and sit down.After asking the customer with my eyes, I knew that the curtains could not be opened, so I turned on the light.

"Sit down, sir."

I rearranged the chairs at my desk for guests to sit down, and rearranged my own chairs.I heard the cane make a little trouble for the old gentleman when he sat down, and he tried to stand it up against the table, but it fell down awkwardly, so he simply laid the cane flat against his right foot.When I turned around, I saw that the guest sitting across from the desk was looking at me—or more like observing me, and with an incredible, acquaintance's gaze, which is very strange in this situation.Seeing me suddenly looking at him, the gentleman adjusted his sitting posture uncomfortably, adjusted his glasses, and then saw the subconsciously reserved eyes in an unfamiliar environment.

"Please, sir." I sat down across from him.The lighting and seating arrangement gave me a sense of déjà vu.

"I'm now...in a little trouble." He said hesitantly.

"You can tell the whole story without fear here, sir. We are completely confidential to our clients. What's your name?"

"I don't feel like this is the best time to bring it up," he said, his hesitation growing.

"Then forget about it."

"In short, I offended some people who were involved in illegal activities. I approached the police and they tried to solve it. But now I have reason to believe that those people have not let me go."

"Then it's personal protection. I really can't do it alone. I need my partner."

"But Miss Nightingale, I have come to Manchester specifically to seek your protection."

At this point something strange happened.I suddenly noticed something that I usually ignore.Maybe the gentleman's face would look a little longer if his hair - especially on the forehead - wasn't so long.I don't know why I suddenly grabbed my glasses from the table and put them on, and I could clearly see his wrinkled face and his astonished eyes.When I saw his aquiline nose, which was not so high under the glasses, the structure of the whole face suddenly became clear to my eyes, those features that were difficult to change under any disguise, and everything else faded away.Elongated ears, pointed chin, hooked nose, high cheekbones, wide forehead, deep eye sockets, and a pair of eyes that changed from tranquility to surprise, and finally gave up surprise and became more and more excited because of——

gray eyes.

gray eyes.

I took off my glasses and stood up from my seat.It seemed as if something exploded in my mind, and the flames blazed, and then went blank because of the heat.

"This is impossible."

I said it in a voice that only I could hear.In my right mind I should have known this was absurd, but now my mind has nothing but a long-lost feeling in my heart that diffuses, permeates, travels through my blood, absorbs in all The organization seemed to dissolve me.

"you……?"

Their eyes froze where they met.Something disappeared from those gray eyes, and something came up and melted away.He stood up in front of me.I need to look up at him slightly.

"I don't think there's any use for that."

Like a voice in a dream, low and gentle.

"It's you?"

He grabbed the hair on his forehead and took off the white wig, revealing his well-groomed black hair. He took off the glasses and put them on the table, then tore off the false eyebrows and beard, and took off the teeth with some difficulty. , took out a handkerchief from his suit pocket and wiped his cheek vigorously, wiping off most of the paint on his face.Wrinkles and age spots are gone.I don't know what he has experienced in the past three years. The wind and frost have left marks on him, but what I see is that he has never changed.The ice-like spirit is oncoming, cool and calm, never indifferent.

Sherlock Holmes slowly peeled off the black gloves from his fingers and laid them on my desk.

"I should have known earlier, Nightingale, you were the first to expose my disguise to my face."

He raised his downcast eyes as if he wanted to confess something, which seemed a little wet under the light.

There was a burst of blackness in front of my eyes, and I took a step back to hold the desk, spinning around, and he became blurred in front of my eyes.I shook my head vigorously.Stay awake, Nightingale, damn it, can't pass out.A pair of hands grabbed my shoulders to keep me from falling.I grabbed those arms, really,

It's true, I hold on tightly and don't let go.He pressed me against his chest and I felt his chin touch my hair.We remained silent like this for a while, and the sound of my chaotic breathing in the air gradually calmed down.

"I'm sorry that my impression of you is still true to the name. I admit that I was a little shocked when I saw the 25-year-old Miss Nightingale."

"You..." I finally came to my senses and pushed Holmes' hand away vigorously, "You actually talk about age when we meet!"

"Okay, I didn't say anything."

Confirming that I was able to stand firmly, Holmes raised his hands in a "stop" motion.I was still in a trance, grabbing my long fingers like a predator hunting, and I really startled him.

"Oh! I haven't seen you for a few years, and you are more irritable than before..."

"Stop this nonsense. Don't you feel you owe me something?"

He squinted his eyes slightly, a gentle question.

"Explain, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, a dead man suddenly appeared in front of me as if haunted. He had better have a more reasonable explanation than 'a miracle happened'!"

"I'm so glad you decided the first time I was a living person and not a ghost. It took Mrs. Hudson five times longer to realize that."

I clenched my teeth and tightened my grip.

"Relax, miss, relax! I still miss my violin." Holmes struggled his hands out and flexed his knuckles. "It is a long story as to why I reappeared before you. You just need to be clear now, Moriarty." I'm really dead, I want to prevent Moran from coming back for revenge and let everyone think I'm dead too."

The word "death" makes me want to cry.I turned my face away and I didn't let anyone see me cry for three years.Holmes took out another handkerchief from another pocket and handed it to me, but I seized his hand and wiped away the tears that had just overflowed my eyes.Reluctantly, he wiped his hands with a handkerchief.

"I don't think there's anything I can do about being sorry. I'm not going to defend myself."

Maybe I was mad, but after the fatal fright and brief ecstasy, I was really mad.I used to fantasize about what it would be like if Holmes miraculously reappeared before me, and maybe I would even have the courage to confess to him.I would never have imagined that when he really appeared, I would be left with nothing but anger.

"You know how I survived those two years. I'm coming back to see you, I have to come back. And then you disappear, and what's more, we thought you were dead - if only had to, if you just showed up In front of me, these tears are worth nothing. But the joke you just made, thank you, I don’t even want to mention it. "

Holmes pursed his thin lips.

"Feel sorry."

"Is it purely to satisfy your playfulness, Mr. Holmes? Go to Manchester and pretend to be my client, and tell me that you are here to seek my protection!"

I was a little dizzy under the excitement, I lowered my head and put my hands on my forehead.Holmes offered his hand, but I made a gesture of refusal when he was within two inches of me.

"I'm telling the truth, Nightingale."

"Of course, I'm sure Moriarty's remnants are still bugging you, but I wish you'd made up the parts that weren't true. Sitting primly behind a desk talking nonsense while I've put my heart into it. Broken hearted - don't think I'll forgive everything just seeing you alive. No, I don't forgive you."

Holmes made no answer.Everything fell silent.The tears came up again, and I sat back on the edge of the table, and the tears of giving up control poured out like a spring, and I restrained myself from making a sound.He wiped the tears off my face steadily with his pale fingers.I have nothing against this action.

"I'm telling the truth, Nightingale."

I closed my eyes, which were a little swollen from tears.The words spread like poetry in the dark.

"Surviving these three years alone is not a problem, but I live in darkness. Nightingale, so now I ask for your protection."

The author has something to say: Happy Holidays everyone! ! !The author was so excited when I wrote this chapter, I wrote it several times before finalizing it, I have been waiting for this moment for a long time!