Baker Street Charterers

Regarding the question of "Gleason's friend", everyone here is really not lying-Mr. Sheriff does have an actor friend who works at the Covent Garden Theater, and that friend did lead them to have a passionate conversation Talking, but the content of the conversation has nothing to do with this Mr. Adolf Barker-in fact, what really made them connect the two was because the theater was being cleaned up at the time, and a young man accidentally dropped a An old pictorial, and the unique scar on the face of the actor who played Judas caught their attention.

Unfortunately, the long-lost actor was also named Adolf. After further questioning, I was able to confirm that Mr. Adolf Barker, who was a little famous five years ago, is now a homeless beggar at the lowest level in London. The tortuous story that happened in the middle has to be thought-provoking.

After a while of silence, Adolf suddenly laughed. He seemed a little mocking and a little unbelievable, "Employment? Oh, ladies and gentlemen, I'm just a homeless man with no money and no power. Even children passing by can bully me and curse at will." I... indeed, I made a harmless joke about my profession, but that doesn't really matter, does it? What do you think I'm capable of, what would you call your... Moran or Moriarty's people hire me?"

Holmes shook his pipe, but did not light it. He just inhaled the smell of tobacco, and said unhurriedly, "Talent? Mr. Adolph Barker, tell me how you noticed the disappearance within half a year. What about the relationship between children and vagrants? If I remember correctly, because of your suggestion, we found under the bridge and followed a suspect to the St. Lawrence Orphanage... If I hadn’t had the foresight to tell a friend in advance According to the police, maybe today you will attend the funeral of Nora and me."

Adolf stroked his stubble with an innocent face, "Hint? Oh no sir, you are slandering me, I didn't imply anything to you!"

"Although you deny it," Holmes smiled slightly, his eyes determined. "Many children's parents have seen you appear at the scene of disappearance. This has been recorded. It doesn't matter if you don't admit your identity—we just want to let you know." Need to ask the old tramp if they know you well...I'm sure the answer must be expected - do you think this step is necessary?"

The casual smile on Adolf's face finally froze. He looked at Holmes silently for a few seconds, finally slumped his shoulders, and finally sighed deeply as if in compromise, "Okay, you win, Mr. Holmes... I am indeed that actor, Adolph Barker, most of your guesses are correct, except one—"

"Oh?" Holmes straightened up with interest.

Adolf touched his nose with a headache, very helpless, "There is indeed a person who hired me with a lot of money. He told me that a detective named Sherlock Holmes will come to me. I just need to tell him all the clues I know, including the case. The discovery on the website... But you guessed wrong, I never knew his name, nor did I know the so-called Moran Marian and Moriarty, it was he who contacted me."

"Sounds familiar," Nora shrugged, Holmes nodded in agreement, and then asked, "Then how did that mysterious person contact you?"

Adolf hesitated for a while, and finally, before Nora raised his eyebrows, he dally took out an envelope from his dirty clothes, handed it to them, and said reluctantly, "He will write to me. There's everything I need to do, and fifty pounds."

"That's a big deal," Nora muttered.

The color and style of the envelope were as familiar as ever. There was no factory logo, no pattern, pure white, sealed with wax paint, and an English letter "m" was printed inside.Holmes carefully opened the envelope and unfolded the white letter paper. Inside, there were only a few sentences written in a pen. The handwriting was sharp and angular——

"Dear Mr. Adolph Albert Barker,

It was fifty pounds, and little money is no respect.You don't need to know who I am and my name, all I pay is that you need to do one small thing for me - a Mr. Sherlock Holmes will come to you on his own initiative in the near future, please tell Mr. Holmes honestly what you need know everything.Smart people will know what to do.

Your sincere admirers, m. "

Nora leaned over, "What clue did you find?"

Holmes lowered his head and sniffed it, then spread out the letter paper, turned on the light for a while, looked at it carefully, thought for a while, and then said, "The most common kraft paper is neither cheap nor expensive. There are about 300 stores in the UK that can do it." This kind of paper is produced. The envelope is transparent under the light, without any logo, and it can be recognized that it is specially made and made for a customer. Smell the wax seal, in addition to the usual scent of rosin, there is also There is a slight scent of ink, which smells like rose water mixed with it—the respected Mr. M seems to like to write letters with rose-scented ink, and the seal with the letter 'm' stamped on other letters, so keep the smell Come down." Adolf twitched his eyebrows, both surprised and a little admiring at his fine reasoning.

"There were no such obvious clues in the past few times," Nora narrowed her eyes, "Why is it different this time?"

Holmes thought for a moment, his gray eyes turned to Adolf, and he seemed to be looking at Adolf, and said in a deliberate manner, "Of course it's because...he wants to do this."

Adolf leaned forward with great interest, "Why? As far as I know, rich people like to play mysteries. Why is Mr. M different?"

"Remember the Greek letters in that red book, Nora?" Holmes mused. "Since our conversation broke up last time, the personable Professor Moriarty seems to be more interested in word games. , such as the beautiful and charming Miss Marianne, the decoded greeting, and the letter he dragged from Monsieur Adolph."

Indeed, from the beginning of this disappearance case, the whole incident seemed to be manipulated by a pair of invisible hands behind the scenes. Whenever they tracked down a key clue, they would eventually find that it was futile. They walked around in the maze, while the other party watched them condescendingly, as if they were playing with a few little mice.

It's easy to guess what horrific intrigue and stormy blows they'll face when he tires of the planned contest, or when the crossword puzzle hits the final step.

Of course, this will be a matter of the future, and now it is more important to find the connection and rescue the missing child.

"Why do you pay attention to this case?" Nora suddenly asked, "I'm curious, Mr. Adolf, you obviously have a bright future and a bright career, why did you suddenly leave the theater owner who has supported and cared for you for so long and become a A beggar that everyone looks down on? As you said, why did Mr. M find you? So what happened in the past five years?"

Adolf was silent.

Holmes made a gesture to signal her to stop first, then moved his eyes to the old beret on Adolf's head, seemed to think of something, smiled slightly, "Mr. Adolf Barker, are you married yet?"

Adolf frowned, his face was vigilant for a moment, and then he deliberately relaxed, grinning, "Of course not... who would take a fancy to me?"

"Perhaps," Holmes narrowed his gray eyes, "this beret of yours doesn't seem to fit well. I don't mention the size, so I don't mean to offend—your clothes are patched all over your body. This hat is so well preserved, it seems that there is no damage except that the fabric is a bit old...May I ask, which lady gave it to you?"

Adolf smiled, "You guessed it wrong, Mr. Detective, but there has never been a lady-"

Holmes interrupted him, "You can play circles with us here, we have plenty of time to play this game with you, but those children--trafficked children, they don't have time to wait for us to finish this farce. . . . Children, can you understand the feelings of their parents?"

Adolf froze.Holmes seemed to have grasped something, leaned slightly, stared at him with sharp gray eyes, and repeated, "Mr. Adolph Barker, do you have any children?"

Adolf moved his eyes away, touched the back of his ear subconsciously, smiled reluctantly, and replied, "How is it possible... I didn't even—"

"You lied," Nora said. "Your movements—your hands clenched into fists, your skin taut, not daring to meet your eyes—are signs of shame and nervousness after lying. This hat—oh yes Yes, the hat obviously does not fit your size, since it is not a gift from Miss Madam, then... is it something you gave to your child?"

Nora continued to ask aggressively, "Who is she? Where is she now? Does she know that her father is cooperating with a terrorist, a terrible criminal? Or, was she also abducted? Shame to pay so much attention to missing children?!"

"Enough!" Adolf finally couldn't maintain his superficial calm, stood up suddenly and shouted, then took two steps back, hit the sofa, shuddered, sat down, bowed his head, and murmured, "Enough... do not talk."

A smile appeared on the corner of Nora's mouth. Holmes glanced at her with an unbearable smile. He turned his head and stared at Adolf in silence for a while before asking in a low voice, "What's her name?"

Adolf shook his shoulders, raised his head, and looked at him blankly. After a long time, he said in a trance as if waking up from a dream, "Elizabeth...Her name is Elizabeth."