[Comprehensive British and American] Goddess of Misfortune

Clothar and her mother, Melovy, do not live together on weekdays. Although they occasionally live together for a short time, most of the time, she lives in her own small villa.The one she usually lives in in the suburbs has the advantage of being quiet and not disturbed by anyone.

On a certain day of a certain year, a certain month, a certain time, Watson stood behind Sherlock with a bitter face, and his whole heart was full of crap.

"Sherlock, wait a minute, you are trespassing on a private house now, does this seem to be breaking the law?"

Following his words, the door opened with a snap.

"We are here to investigate the case, not to steal. It is unnecessary for you to worry about it." Sherlock opened the door and walked in, with a calm voice as if to say, "The weather is very good today, according to the humidity and temperature pm2.5. It won't rain so don't bring an umbrella."

"But we don't have a search warrant! The people at Scotland Yard are just waiting for your jokes, this is a private villa, there must be surveillance, if it is photographed, ha, let me think about the headlines in tomorrow's newspaper, it will be "The Fall of the Reichenbach Hero: Sherlock the Thief in the House"? Oh, or do you think "Sherlock's Secret: Asking the Source of Professional Lockpicking Skills" would be better?" Watson followed behind Sherlock. With a bitter face and deep hatred, he tried hard to persuade the stubborn criminal in front of him.

"Are you going to wait for a search warrant from a bunch of guys who don't do anything but make themselves look stupid? Believe me, you don't want to wait for a bunch of kids to give you a search warrant. A troublesome proof." Sherlock looked around the villa, "And, if you insist on doing that, you will soon be able to meet the second Clothar."

Of course, it was her who died, and the implication was unspoken but clear.

Clothar was indeed an indulgent girl.

Watson, who watched it carpet-like with Sherlock, couldn't help but sigh with emotion.

The villa can be seen everywhere littered with underwear, a gray sock on the corner of the table, and its other half on the table, probably because it has never been in close contact with the ground, and it can barely be seen of white.

There were two paper cups scattered on the ground. Judging from the degree of their wrinkling, they were used in a short period of time, and there were still slight water stains inside.The trash can was clean, but looking back at how slovenly Clotal was, there was only one explanation.

"Someone has been here," Sherlock said softly.

There is a laptop on the table in the living room. It is a dark yellow color that girls seldom use, with crows and camels drawn on it. The reins are loose, and someone has fallen to the ground, facing inward and motionless, looking gloomy and depressing.

He turned on the computer, and the screen lit up, "Looks like a password is required." It was Watson who was struggling to step over the underwear that was everywhere.

"It's never been a problem, Watson, it's just that you don't know how to use 90.00% of your brain cells that are still dormant. Clothar puts the computer in the lobby, and the lobby is not where she works. According to her poor brain, the code must be hidden around us. Look around you, Watson, what do you think about when you set up a secret? The first thing you see is often the key word. André Gide's Novels, computer screens smelling of death," Sherlock glanced across the "personal items" that surrounded them, "Also, corrupt private life." He paused, "Watson, Let me ask you, have you seen the man's clothes after you have been in the house for so long?"

Hearing this, Huasheng looked around subconsciously, and was instantly blinded by the various colors of Nene, "No." He quickly retracted his gaze and said.

"Rossy but no trace of a man, this guy is obviously a lesbian, Andre's novels are new, some are not even opened, it looks like their owner hasn't taken care of them for at least a week, so this guy must buy books For other reasons, for example, Andre defended homosexuality in the public release of "The Pastoral Shepherd."

Sherlock's gaze swept across the bookshelf with some distaste, and his gaze stayed on the mouse connected to the computer, "The mouse is printed with the portrait of Ellen DeGeneres, and I can touch the other person at any time. I touch it every day, it seems that the place where the button is pressed happens to be the chest, maybe she has a crush on this lady who is no longer young." Then he picked up the mouse pad, "Of course, the term crush may be a bit unprofessional, I It might sound better to think "desire to possess", and she has a soft spot for old women, she has a lot of affection." Sherlock concluded.

"So what's the code, Portia de Rossi?" Watson flipped through the books, then coughed a few times, choking on the dust.

Portia De Rossi is the name of Ellen DeGeneres' wife who came out as gay.

"Watson, if you can learn to think correctly, then I think your IQ should be able to climb above the passing line. After all, your thinking is correct except for the direction." Sherlock put down the mouse in his hand, "Merovie .This is her password."

Merovee, the name of Clotar's mother.

The notebook had been opened, and Sherlock tapped the keyboard a few times, and the screen quickly changed to the main interface, and Watson, who had been watching his movements behind him, saw the switched screen At the first glance of the screen, I turned my head subconsciously.

It was a naked, exposed woman with an intoxicated expression, as if she was immersed in some kind of happiness, and although she only had one glance, Watson still recognized who this person was.

Merowe.

"The master bedroom of this house is clean and tidy. It is obvious that no one has ever slept in it, and according to Miss Clothal's "informal" character," he glanced over the personal items everywhere, "how could it be possible that every What about letting her girl sleep in the living room? Then there is only one explanation, she already has a candidate for the hostess in her heart, and others are just playing around."

"And André Gide is not only famous for his novels," Sherlock said sarcastically, "but also for his physical communication with his nephew Marc Allegra."

……

"What do you mean... one of Clotar's lovers is Merovie?!"

Watson felt that his three views had been severely refreshed.

"It's rare for your head to keep up with my thoughts, but it's a pity that you said it the wrong way." Sherlock tapped the keyboard quickly, and two clear human faces jumped out on the screen, "Use your slowness Let me feel the oppressive atmosphere here. This girl prefers jackdaws, and uses a lot of cold colors, single, gloomy. Dear Watson, it can be seen that her heart has rotted. And if she really Waiting for the service of her maid like a baroness," he said with a confident expression on his face, "then why would she bother herself and even use drugs to attract Merovie's attention?"

"Stupid way." He said, "However, although this guy has a lot of bad records, it is gratifying that she has the habit of recording herself and different girls, and the process of love. Moreover, in order not to reveal the truth, her surveillance has been on Then, oh, if she is still alive, I will definitely tell her that this is a good habit that can make her IQ look less close to negative, and she should continue to maintain it."

……

"So what do you want to express?" Watson could understand every sentence but connected them like a bible.

"Those two people have been here." Sherlock closed the computer, "Clotar, and—"

"Susan Dumitian."

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Waste her time.

Qiao Xi closed the computer sullenly.

She thought that the code in Moriarty's hand would be of some value, although she didn't believe that a few lines of code could overturn the world, but she guessed that it was probably a code or some secret—so she spent a lot of money on it. The time was used to call all the surveillance around Mr. Detective, and it turned out that it was just a joke——

Bach's Concerto No. [-].

It looks like Mr. Moriarty likes this piece very much.

Taking a deep breath, she heard the increasingly urgent warning sound from the bracelet.

The guy who likes to go through the back door is getting closer, through her small warehouse, through her small garden, and it seems that now, they are only separated by a wall.

And just now she has seen the position of the little red dot, Mr. Detective, oh, and his [personal assistant] Watson, are already on their way here.

What a failure, Su Sen. You may have underestimated Sherlock when you fled with a communication device on your body. You know, that man named Mycroft is not to be underestimated.

But it doesn't matter, as long as the game reaches the end, it's fine. However, in some games, death is the most perfect end.

"Don't move." There was something cold on her neck. Judging from its length and sharpness, it should be a household fruit knife.

According to Su Sen's economic level, a fruit knife is a luxury item.

Did you bring it from that villa?

stupid guy.

"Be obedient, you'll be fine." The man's hand holding the knife trembled a little, as if he was a little nervous and couldn't stop it.

Qiao Xi turned her back to him, her voice was crying, but there was a strange smile on her face.

"Okay...no...don't hurt me..." she said.

Soon, Moriarty.

After this game, it will come to you.