[Comprehensive English and American] Please speak human words

it', but winie it.

It doesn't matter who starts the game, what matters is who finishes the game.

"Sherlock, this is the crime tool left by the criminal at the scene."

Lestrade sighed, "What clues do you have? He left nearly a hundred tools at the scene, but it's a pity that these things are all mass-produced and sold items, and they have no effect on the progress of solving the case."

Anderson interrupted, "This police motorcycle has not been found for the time being, and it may be a stolen product in disguise."

"Shut up, Anderson, you have lowered the IQ of the whole street." The consulting detective shifted his gaze to the criminal's disguised police motorcycle, which is not actually a disguise, "Honda T1300 motorcycle, equipped by the British police, However, a few months ago, after police officer Shreve ran out of control at a high speed and caused casualties, the police conducted a comprehensive inspection of this type of motorcycle, and some of them were suspended. Compared with being stolen for civilian use, you should directly Inquire about which police cars have been deactivated, and some of them have been sold privately."

He picked up the smoke/fog/bomb that the criminals used to camouflage the explosion accident. It is also a field game smoke/fog/bomb sold in large quantities. It is estimated that thousands of them can be sold a day in the UK. A small white splinter stuck in the fog/bullet groove, "Leah, magnifying glass."

Gloria thoughtfully took out the exquisite black magnifying glass and gave it to him. As a useless assistant, there was only so much left to do. She looked at the piece of paper less than half a millimeter and asked, "What is this?"

"The newspaper," Mr. Holmes proved almost frighteningly knowledgeable, "is the second half of the 'New Economic Foundation.'"

Sherlock put the scrap of newspaper under his nose and sniffed. Gloria would never admit that Mr. Holmes looked too cute.

He concludes, "New smell of ink, there's a paragraph on page five of The Spectator with a report on resource consumption by the UK's New Economics Foundation."

"But "The Spectator" is a mainstream newspaper with a huge circulation, and this clue is almost useless." Anderson always likes to confront the detective.

Sherlock raised the corners of his mouth expressionlessly, "Don't yell, Anderson, you always want to expose your IQ. When did I say this was published, this should be the weekly issue of "The Spectator" tomorrow."

"Then how do you know the content?"

Sao Bao's black hair is naturally curly and smiling, "This world has no secrets from me."

Gloria shrugged: As I said a long time ago, everything is transparent in front of Mr. Holmes, and he can easily put her on the list of most wanted criminals in France, let alone hack into the newspaper system to read the content in advance.

"Could it be that "The Spectator" is being printed in advance?" The blonde girl's gray-blue eyes were a little confused. "Wouldn't it be too risky to print in advance in the newspaper industry? Who knows what big news will come out tonight."

Only God knows, she didn't hint at anything, but Mr. Holmes obviously misunderstood. He coughed with red ears, "It's an internal sample."

A fixed layout is set aside to deal with major events that occur at any time, and the typesetting of other content is first confirmed by internal trial printing and proofing.

"So someone inside The Spectator?" Inspector Lestrade asked.

Sherlock was noncommittal, "Where is that threatening letter?"

"There are no usable clues such as fingerprints on it." Officer Donovan reluctantly handed it over.

The consulting detective took a look, and tore off the stamp neatly. He smiled at his little girlfriend, "Scotland Yard is really a goldfish pond, what do you think?"

Scotland Yard: The pervert!Freak!Megalomaniac!

Gloria blinked her eyes innocently, "Sir, you really shouldn't be so honest sometimes."

Scotland Yard: The girlfriend of a freak is not a good thing, after all!

And the blonde girl who was slandered by the police officers of the British Empire was looking at the stamp with disgust, "He didn't stick it with saliva, did he?"

"Of course, there is really no evidence for this letter other than DNA." Sherlock replied with a smile.

Scotland Yard: "..."

Anderson, the stupid goldfish in the goldfish pond, silently took the stamp and asked his colleagues to verify the DNA.

Sherlock unfolded the letter paper, "Strictly add spaces between words and sentences, use aueur (driver), telegrapple (telegraph pole) instead of the more commonly used driver, utilityple."

"Where are Scotland Yard's information specialists?" asked the detective.

"...he's on vacation in Italy." Inspector Lestrade said in a low voice.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "Look, the work efficiency is not very good, but the benefits are good."

"Sherlock, you are also a computer expert, maybe you can replace his function?" Inspector Daying suggested.

Consult detective Tan Shou, "Look, I'm standing at the scene of a crime right now. This BlackBerry is not enough for me to search the Intranet of The Spectator to find the answer I want, and the criminal who delays finding the answer by 1 minute will be able to find the answer." Likely escaped to Iceland, like those who escaped Scotland Yard in the past."

Inspector Lestrade: "..."

"I might have a way," Gloria raised her hand silently, "Penelope Garcia, an information specialist from the FBI's BAU team, is in London, and she is my good friend."

The detective has already dialed the phone, "I will apply to my superior immediately."

"Hi, babygirl, I need your help," Gloria explained the situation to the blonde girl on the phone. Garcia had already started typing on the keyboard during the process, and her voice was sincere and sweet while wearing a red headband , ", I will definitely help you catch this criminal, this is related to your battle of losing your virginity."

Gloria: "... tankyu."

Twenty seconds later, a matching page popped up on Garcia's computer screen, "John Benjamin, copy proofreader for The Spectator, resigned two weeks ago for stealing company finances, oh, he bought a police parked car ten days ago. The Honda motorcycle used, the home address is Aldgate, London NO.20."

"Ney, you're really the smartest blonde I've ever seen," Gloria repeated the address to Inspector Lestrade, and continued to say to Garcia on the phone, "What's the plan for tomorrow? It's bigger than the London Eye." Ben Zhong, I have a few clubs that I can introduce to you, and we can also see the dancing posture of a handsome chocolate cat by the way."

Of course, Garcia agreed with both hands. After Gloria ended the call, she found that Mr. Holmes was not followed to arrest the criminal. He was frowning at her.

"—Dancing like a cat?"

Gloria touched her pointed ears, "Who made you always wrap yourself so tightly."

"Why don't you dance for me," she leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "just tonight."

221b Baker Street, London

"Sir, where is my birthday present?" Gloria stretched out her beautiful fingers and waved in front of the consulting detective.

Mrs. Anderson had specially prepared a cheesecake for her, which was placed between the two of them with candles.

Sherlock, who was dressed in a decent suit, frowned, "Why are you wearing my pajamas."

"Don't change the subject," Gloria said, holding out her palms for a gift, her loose silk nightgown slipping off her shoulders as she moved.

The black-haired detective with natural curly hair took his eyes off the girl's collarbone, and a second later a royal blue velvet box appeared in front of Gloria.

—is a crown.

Hundreds of brilliant diamonds are inlaid on the crown, and the exquisite patterns are lingering. This is definitely something that has appeared in every girl's dream.

Gloria's round red lips were curved, and the mole on her cheek was ambiguous and attractive under the candlelight, "It's Princess Margaret's crown."

Queen Elizabeth, the Queen's mother, received the tiara from Queen Mary as a birthday present to Princess Margaret, where it was expected to fetch £[-] million, but it was never sold at auction show up.

"This must be the most wonderful gift and night," said the elf girl with her gray-blue eyes, "because I already have the most beautiful lover."

——"Sir, I am an isolated island, in the water of lovesickness, in all directions, separating me from you. One thousand and one mirrors reflect your face, I start with you, and I end with you."

Her pious and sincere love is enough to make people cry.

Sherlock didn't like the feeling of being influenced by someone else, but it was there, and his heart beat faster for the girl.

—“Happy birthday, Gloria.”

The elf girl hasn't forgotten the main business of today-lost, chaste, big, forged, and war!

"Sir, do you want to return the gift?" Gloria stood up and walked barefoot to Sherlock.

She took out two things from the pocket of her nightgown, and Sherlock followed her white fingers to see clearly - a black lace blindfold and a cat ear headband.

Sherlock's mind instantly simulated the appearance of these two little things on her body. He remained expressionless, but Gloria stroked the center of his eyebrows, moving her slender fingers from the center of the eyebrows to the cheekbones, "Sir, your face is flushed."

She put cat ears on her head and squatted close to his ear, "Because of the adrenaline."

"Gloria—" Sherlock frowned.

The elf girl was not at all afraid of his pretended indifference. Mr. Holmes was a proud paper tiger. She stood up and moved away from him, "I'm a little hot."

The blue silk nightgown slipped off her fair skin, and the only thing on Goldilocks now was the cat ears on her head.

Sherlock began to wonder if she could hear his own thunderous heartbeat.

"Do you like this blindfold?" Gloria's round red lips hooked a Lolita-like sweet smile, "Can you put it on for me?"

"Of course." The gorgeous subwoofer has a hint of dullness, but reveals an undisguised aggression.

The black lace covered her vision tightly, and Gloria felt his fingers slide down her cheeks to her collarbone, shoulders, and down to her wrists.

Her smile faltered after a few seconds.

Gloria tugged at the bound wrists, and she guessed right that the touch was Sherlock's black tie.

God, is there a deviation in Mr. Holmes' study direction? !