Baker Street Charterers

The next day, a newspaper with the "murder case of a pregnant woman on a train" was received in the apartment.

Originally, Watson was supposed to accompany Sherlock Holmes in today's exploration, but unfortunately, Watson had already escaped from being single and successfully stripped off, and Nora had to watch the displeased Holmes walk out of the house due to the affairs of the clinic.

She had been thinking about the case, trying to find out all the doubts in it, and even today's work seemed to be distracted, and Cleveland immediately noticed this keenly.

"You cut Mr. Cretter's finger."

Nora was startled, and immediately came back to her senses and smiled apologetically, "I'm really sorry Mr. Hawke, because I found out a very interesting case yesterday, so I unconsciously..."

"Case?" Cleveland thought for a moment, "'The Pregnant Train Murder Case'?"

"You also read the newspaper?" Nora was a little surprised. She was very used to Cleveland's usual detached appearance, and there were very few things other than dead bodies that could attract his attention. The boss reads the morning paper," which was almost a fantasy, and Cleveland frowned uncomfortably, "I am a regular reader of the Daily Telegraph."

Then he paused, "Occasionally I read the Daily Star, but I haven't found any articles that suit my appetite recently."

Nora gave him a strange look. Isn't this the tabloid that interviewed her?She immediately suggested solemnly, "This newspaper is not exciting. I suggest you change to another newspaper. It has no other characteristics except long-winded nonsense."

Cleveland responded vaguely, "Tell me about your case."

So Nora told him all the details she knew from the beginning to the end. At the end, Cleveland bowed his head and thought for a long time, and suddenly asked a question that she still didn't quite understand, "There are many things that can effectively stop bleeding. Why? Will you choose a bold olive oil?"

"Probably... to neutralize the smell of rosemary?" Nora guessed uncertainly.

Cleveland shook his head, "It has almost no effect. The British don't have many opportunities to use it. I only read in books that the Greeks like to apply it on their skin and hair to make them more lustrous."

"I remember Holmes said that although the murderer came prepared, he did not prepare the murder weapon. It is very likely that the olive oil was also improvised..." Nora murmured, "Who would take it on the train... On the hair... you mean, the person we're looking for is most likely not British?"

Cleveland said blankly, "That's your guess."

Nora tugged at her hair in annoyance, "The cunning murderer is unpredictable and unpredictable. It feels like we are surrounded by mice in a glass house, and he is standing outside with a smile and silently taunting us."

"The glass house?" Cleveland asked curiously.

"...that's not the point," Nora waved her hand weakly.

Cleveland was silent for a long time, his gray-blue eyes staring at her unblinkingly, until Nora turned his head strangely, then he spoke in a very calm voice.

"If you can't calm down, I allow you to follow along to investigate the case."

"……what?"

"I know you are special... from the beginning." Cleveland said softly, unable to see other emotions from his dark pupils that were always stagnant, "You belong to the outside world, and you are not used to being dumb It is not fit to be with a dead body here in this gloomy place... You belong to the living, and you belong to Holmes."

Nora looked straight at him, seemingly shocked, but more complex and indescribable.

No one had ever said that to her before, and everyone agreed that she was too crazy to accept gifts from other ladies, just because she was a good friend of Sherlock Holmes, and Holmes was a famous and talented detective.Cleveland was the first person to really admit to herself. He actually understood what she was thinking and what she wanted.

She wants the truth.

"Thank you, Cleveland." Nora smiled and hugged him tenderly, then let go and blinked, "Next time I will definitely not leave early, boss."

Cleveland's stiff shoulders imperceptibly relaxed slightly when she stepped back. He breathed a sigh of relief, then nodded, trying to show a smile too, but the muscles that had been in an inactive state for many years made this smile too shallow and weird. I had no choice but to give up, and said in the same light and low voice, "Yes, I know."

Nora beckoned to him, then turned and ran out of the clinic.

When she returned to Baker Street, Nora opened the door, and was surprised to find that Sherlock Holmes, who she thought would be rushing outside to investigate the case, was sitting on his exclusive sofa at this moment, flipping through a map of England with his head down. Hearing the noise, he raised his head and showed a surprised look, "Does your boss, Mr. Hawke, know the news of your escape?"

"In fact, he was the one who allowed me to come back." Nora replied, but Holmes didn't smile. Instead, his face became slightly serious. He turned his head, wondering what he was thinking, and glanced at her, "It seems that you are really good friends. friend."

"That's true." Nora smiled, and then leaned over, "What are you looking for? Is it related to the case?"

Holmes spread out the map, "I went to find the lady's maid this morning, and she helped me describe the appearance of the lady doctor—tall and strong, with blond hair and blue eyes, and a soldier's temperament... So I took another I took the train to Greenwich, strolled through the streets of the town, and remembered that the doctor who was suspected of being a lover should be here. If he lived here all year round, at least he would have a stable career. My first I thought it was the doctor who was attending the consultation, but I need a map to help me find him."

"..." Nora was speechless, "You can ask any passerby."

"Passers-by are not as good as my 'Sherlock Holmes-style most detailed private map of the whole of Britain'." He raised the paper in his hand, and there were indeed a lot of English marks on it, probably all the places he walked through that were not on the map. , Sherlock Holmes pointed to one of the marks, "Guess what I found? - Ah, as expected, there is a Naval Hospital there, right next to the Royal Naval College, remember what our maid said ?”

"Military temperament?"

"Indeed." Holmes closed the map, stood up, and smiled vigorously. "Then, it's time to start again—my dear friend, let us once again face the iron-blooded sword."