Baker Street Charterers

It is true that Watson did not carry a gun, but that did not mean that Holmes did not—he took out a pistol from his pocket, loaded it with two bullets, and put it again in his coat pocket.

As a bodyguard, Nora began to think deeply about whether she needs to get a good weapon for herself. Sometimes the employer is too proactive and worry-free, which will make her lose the sense of accomplishment as an excellent employee.

Maybe she could ask Cleveland about it?

It was dawn, and before I knew it, I had been busy all night.The three of them were walking on the street leading to the city of London at the moment, and every household entered the day's grooming and working.Toby led them all the way through Stretson Street, Brixton Street, Camberwell Street, and finally came to Kennington Lane, east of Ofor.Such a winding and complicated road makes one have to wonder whether the suspect has a very good anti-tracking awareness and chooses to walk on such a winding and complicated street.

After going left, you pass Securities Street, Miles Street, and Knight Street.At last Toby stopped, circling back and forth, looking very agitated.

"The smell disappeared?" Watson was surprised.

"Patience." Nora said, and then saw Toby pause, and galloped forward with great determination, pulling the rope vigorously to lead Holmes forward, and finally came to Nelson's Big Wood Yard, amidst the sawdust all over the sky. He walked through the side door with the smell of earth and wood, jumped into a small alley piled with wood, and finally stopped beside a wooden barrel that was still on the cart and was not taken down, barking.

Everyone looked at the black oil stains around the barrel, all speechless.

"This..." Watson said cautiously, "Is this the answer given to us by the dog with the most sensitive sense of smell in your mouth?"

Nora Fuer, "London, which transports countless quantities of durian oil every day, has found the nearest place."

Toby stuck out his tongue and gasped haha.

Holmes showed great patience, and was not discouraged by this mistake. He picked up Toby and put it on the wide street, letting him sniff the smell again, with a different look in his eyes, "Try again."

Toby ran forward again, passed Belmont Road and Prince Street, and ran all the way to the river, and finally stopped on a small wooden pier by the Broad Street river, looking at drinking water, hum Humming.

Holmes came to the place where Toby stopped, and there was a small brick house in front of him. A wooden sign was hung on the window, which said, "Modecai Smith, boat rental, available by time and day."

"It seems that they have a plan to evacuate from here." Holmes looked around slowly and heard the sound of a woman and a child playing beside him. "Little friend, is your father here?"

The child's face was flushed, he shook his head, and said with a smile, "I went out yesterday morning." The woman behind him stepped forward and said, "Are you going to rent a boat? It's the same as I said."

Holmes pondered for a moment. "I would like to hire Smith's steamer."

The woman shook her head, "My family hasn't returned home since yesterday. It's strange...the coal on board is not enough for a round trip to Woolwich."

"Perhaps there is a coal seller on the way?" Holmes continued to probe.

"Maybe...but he always said that the coal price in the spare bag was too high, and he never wanted to buy it. Besides, I also really hate that foreigner with wooden legs. He always comes here, but never says what's wrong. .”

People with wooden legs?

The three of them glanced at each other, suppressing the surprise in their eyes, Holmes said as calmly as possible, "A man with a wooden leg? That's interesting."

The woman showed displeasure on her face, "A rogue boy has been here many times, and he came again last night. It seems that he said he would come here beforehand. My wife set fire to the steamboat very early, which makes me very worried."

"Would you mind telling me the name of that steamboat?"

"Sir, it's called Dawn."

"Ah!" Holmes suddenly realized, "Is that the old green boat with the thick yellow line on the side?"

"No, just like the other boats, it has been newly oiled, and the black boat has red lines painted on it for two days."

"Thank you very much. I'm leaving now. If I see your husband's boat, I will tell him to go home early. By the way—is the chimney of that boat black?"

"Yes, but a white line was drawn."

"Well, goodbye, Mrs. Smith."

Holmes bid farewell to the woman, and when he was some distance away from the pier, he said brightly, "It seems that our hard work all night was not in vain, fellows."

"Your skills in leading the conversation are as impressive as ever." Nora smiled, "Look at that Mrs. Smith, there is no doubt about your identity."

Holmes raised his head slightly, "It's very simple, just talk about what she wants to know most, and she will tell you everything without you asking."

"And now?" Watson asked, obviously feeling tired. "Shall we charter a boat and go downstream to find the Dawn?"

"Too much time," Denied Holmes. "If we don't want Athelney Jones to interfere, we'd better go it alone. Not in the newspapers, lest the criminals startle us."

While talking, they boarded the steamer and disembarked in front of Mirbank Prison. Holmes firmly said, "Now we will go back in this car, have something to eat, and then rest for an hour. Maybe we will work harder tonight. Coachman —stop at the telegraph office."

Two minutes later, Holmes got into the car again, and Watson asked impatiently, "Who did you send a telegram to?"

Holmes smiled slightly. "Remember our Baker Street squad?"

Watson laughed, "Of course, those clever kids."

The car arrived at the destination very quickly, just after eight o'clock in the morning.All three of them were extremely exhausted from running around all night.As soon as Nora returned to the living room, she immediately collapsed on the sofa and rubbed her throbbing forehead. She hadn't stayed up like this for a long time, not to mention running and thinking almost all night.

A gust of hot air hit her cheeks, she paused, looked up, and saw Holmes holding a cup of steaming black tea in front of her.

Nora exhaled, "You are my savior." Nothing comforts her exhausted like a cup of hot tea right now.

A gentle smile appeared in Holmes' eyes. "Mrs. Hudson is making breakfast, eggs, potatoes?"

"Bread is fine." Nora held her forehead, took a sip of water, and sighed, "For the sake of another marathon in the near future, I don't think my stomach is so tired at all."

"You are brave and strong." Holmes also sat on the sofa next to him with a steady tone, "You are impressive."

Nora paused the hand holding the teacup, and glanced at Holmes in surprise, "May I take this as a compliment?"

Holmes had already spread out the newspaper, and the wide page perfectly covered his face, only a flat voice came out, "As you wish."

Watson smiled while pouring tea, "Nora, go to the window and see, is the sun still rising in the east?"

Holmes shook the paper.

After drinking the hot tea, Nora stood up and stretched herself, "Okay gentlemen, I need to take a hot bath and change into clean clothes—ah... this is really a good morning, isn't it ?”

Watson gave a smile that was both happy and slightly melancholy.

……

When Nora came down from the stairs refreshed, Watson was eating breakfast, and Holmes was holding a large tome and reading it very seriously. Hearing her footsteps, he waved to her, "Here It's the first volume of the newly published Geographical Dictionary, look at this page—"

Nora took it and flipped it over, "The natives of the Andaman Islands, the smallest people in the world, with an average height of less than four feet, are fierce and irritable by nature, but as long as you build trust and affection with them, they will remain forever ...?"

Nora snorted. "The smallest man? Isn't this—"

Holmes touched his chin, "Look at the next one."

"They were a scourge to British officials—many were smashed to death with stone-studded sticks, or stabbed to death with poisoned arrows, and the massacre often ended with a feast of human flesh..."

Nora paused, raised her head, and pondered, "I remember the footprints in the secret room, which were very small, plus they were fierce and irritable, as well as poisonous stingers... You mean, these people are likely to be the murderers?"

"Although there is no obvious evidence, it is very possible." Holmes closed the book and put it away on his bookshelf. "Every evidence points to the natives of the Andaman Islands. I think you still remember Sholto and Morstan. Both were garrison officers from the Andaman Islands. That's where the murderer was probably brought out."

Nora rubbed her stiff neck, and the faint light in the morning had the effect of making people fall asleep at this moment, her voice lowered unconsciously, "...So, what should we do next, Xiali?"

Holmes picked up his precious violin from Brescia, and slowly played a song that he had never heard before, but with a very soothing and peaceful tone, which made her have the illusion that his voice was also very gentle, "You will know when you wake up. Now that you are very tired, just lie down on this sofa for a while, and hope that this self-created lullaby will help you sleep well for a while..."

Nora lay down on the floor in a daze. She was already very tired. Her blurred vision was only the tall and thin figure of Holmes standing by the window. There was something warm covering her body. The low, slow and soft voice The serene music seemed to fall into a dream together. She closed her eyes and entered a quiet and sweet dream.