[Comprehensive British and American] Goddess of Misfortune

How you die is not important, what matters is why you die and in whose arms you die.

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Although she hadn't recovered yet, Qiao Xi used the shadow of death as an excuse to leave the hospital successfully, and the doctor didn't stop her too much. After all, she just needs to rest and use her legs less, and she will recover completely after a while.

This is good news for Qiao Xi——

She can finally use her own network.

——Congratulations~ Eagerly congratulating public wifi for teaching Qiao Xi what trouble is~

Back in the store, she began to investigate the progress of Karena and Su Sen, and carefully checked Sid's recent situation, and of course other people's. She is used to knowing all and detailed information, so that she can always have the most accurate information. The good and the worst.

Nobody succeeds forever, and neither does she.

And a few days after leaving the police station, that is, on the way to check the information, Qiao Xi found out that someone was constantly investigating Richard Brooke's news. From the registered identity to the actual communication, they were all involved in various aspects. test.

But the results were undeniably astounding.

There are no gaps in his life experience, his life is the same as that of an ordinary actor, coupled with a cowardly character, and a daily life that has nothing to do with Moriarty, he even has a few lives. Neighbors for many years——

Polygraph tests showed that these decent neighbors were telling the truth.

This is really not a happy news, after all, it means that Richard Brooke is a real person, not a fiction.

If this guy was really Moriarty, he could even legitimately live beside them in this capacity—after all, his legitimate name was Richard Brooke, and he was an actor with a clean record.

She doesn't know how much Moriarty has achieved in reality, but he must have worked hard on those neighbors. After living in the neighborhood for a certain period of time, coupled with the familiarity of psychological hints, they will naturally feel that they have a similar relationship with Moriarty. Dee has known each other for a long time.And on the Internet, she once did a little favor from Lei Feng, making the other party's information more complete and more credible than before - anyway, she has already faked it for herself once, with rich experience, now it is practice makes perfect.

It's just that this time the other party gave her such a big gift, and it's really not like her usual style if she doesn't give something in return.

Just send what?

This is really a question worth considering.

Suson will definitely come to her, and Mr. Moriarty is so good-looking-it's a good idea to make a couple.

But this kind of gift can be counted as one time for Lai He, she never likes to give the same gift repeatedly.

Of the seven deadly sins, gluttony, lust, lust, greed, rage, laziness, sadness, conceit and arrogance, she only sent two or three, and in order to express her sincerity, she would choose the best original sin.

In fact, although she was discharged from the hospital, this did not affect her "close" relationship with Brooke. Brooke often came to see her and sometimes brought some fruit snacks, which she "loves to eat at this age".

She always had a cheerful face, as if eating those foods was the happiest thing in the world—it was full, eager to deceive her mind, how could she waste it?

Each one is filled with false love.

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Brunhilde Caroline's body was found a day later in a small wooden house on Mount X. It was a temporary residence built for tourists who went up the mountain to take a rest, but it turned out to be a place for hunters later. The unspoken public resting place here is very simple, but it is just a place where they stop for a while to drink water when they are tired on the way of hunting, and there is no need for much gorgeousness.

This morning, the hunter Xi Ribeier packed his bags as usual and planned to go hunting in the mountains.

Or rather, poaching.

He has his own job and doesn't need to use hunting to make money, he just simply likes the hunting process.

Take life like a god.

This is probably a common problem of these mediocre middle-aged men.

And when he planned to rest in the cabin for a while because of the exhaustion of hunting as usual, he was shocked by the scene in the cabin.

The house was as dark as ever, and the girl with a quiet face was kneeling on the bench, as if she was praying. She was wearing a white and plain skirt, and in front of her was a small table with a small cake on which eighteen cakes were lit. The candle should have been burning for a long time, the cake and the table were covered with candle oil, only the scorched wick silently reported the number.

At a cursory glance, Xiribeier even thought that the girl was celebrating her own birthday—but it was absolutely impossible for the girl to have one.

She is blessing?Or are you praying for your last supper?

Pooh!Xiribeier laughed because of his unreliable guess. He guessed that this was probably the daughter of a poacher who got lost accidentally. He saw a small room here, so he rested here for the night.

But there was always some inexplicable uneasiness in his heart.

"Little devil? Why are you here alone?" He approached the motionless girl, his voice was always loud, even if the girl slept in such an uncomfortable position last night, he should be able to wake her up.

But she remained motionless.

Xiribeier felt a stronger, ominous premonition in his heart.

"Brat?" He pushed lightly.

The girl slid down with his little strength and fell to the ground. Only at this moment did he see the face of the girl who had kept her head down. The face was beautiful, but her face was bluish white, her eyes were wide open. It seems to be dead.

Yes, she died.

Do not look down.

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He received three cases with the same death within a week, which made Lestrade a little anxious, but fortunately, Sherlock had already started investigating the case, which finally saved his fragile heart from being so hurt.

He regretted that he didn't go to Sherlock after Tria's death. In this case, maybe the little girl named Brunhild Caroline would not have to die—after all, she and her mother May Luo Wenjia died in the same way.

Inside the morgue.

"Serial killer. It's obvious." Facing the three corpses in front of him, Sherlock concluded without hesitation.

"Everyone's wounds are on the abdomen, and the wounds are thin and narrow. Tria's wounds have signs of struggle. This is obviously the first time for the murderer to be inexperienced." Sherlock compared the wound marks on the corpse, "You guys Look here, the murderer chooses to strike at the position between the lumbar spine and the sacrum. It only needs a simple stroke to pierce the kidney deeply, and then cut the abdominal artery upward. When the long needle is pulled out, it will leave a wound in the human body that cannot heal The wound, and by the time someone noticed what was going on and came to help, took him to the hospital and pushed him into the operating room, it was a foregone conclusion."

"Although Tria struggled, but the degree of struggle was relatively low. It should be that the severe pain of death made him awake for a moment. It seems that the murderer was not proficient enough when he killed the first person."

"Then how do you explain that he died alone in the toilet cubicle?" Donovan didn't like Sherlock's look of winning, "Could it be that the murderer killed him, and then took him out of the cubicle to kill him?" Throw it in?"

"Seeing you, I finally understand why the average IQ of Scotland Yard is maintained at such a low level, Officer Donovan," Sherlock looked at the information about the deceased in his hand, "Do you remember the toilets in that bar? It was opened by a person from country Z, imitating the style of the Republic of China, wooden door, latch type, high enough for an adult man's wrist to reach inside, to create a secret room environment in that kind of place, even a woman only needs a chair and a Just a hook."

"Judging from the scars on her body, Mrs. Merovinga should be the only victim who has fought." Sherlock stared at Merovinga's scars intently. Because of her resistance, the murderer decided to kill her daughter."

"Judging from the traces of the fight, the murderer is a tall male with great strength. He is engaged in manual work and has low self-esteem. Don't ask me why I have low self-esteem." Sherlock closed the white cloth covering Tria's body, "Being humane to him , The destruction of organs is the deepest inferiority complex of a man, not just his inferiority ability, but his inferiority complex for himself and his entire life.”

"Wait," he suddenly stopped his analysis, and then looked at Lestrade who had finished the notes of the man who found the third deceased, "You said that the witnesses found Brunhilde Caroline, with a cake and eighteen candles in front of her? Is she celebrating someone's birthday?"

"Merovingian's white hospital gown, Brunhilde's white skirt, and Tria's white overalls—the murderer had an almost obsessive fondness for white."

"What is this? Maybe it's just a coincidence." A policeman whispered dissatisfied.

"There are not so many coincidences in this world, only truth and deceit." Sherlock finally looked at the wound of the little girl Brunhilde, "It seems that the murderer's speculation just now can be added, this guy is very angry at the police,—— Maybe he just got out of prison? Oh, of course, it's also possible that he looked down on Scotland Yard's incompetence and stupidity—" He instantly received Watson's disapproving gaze, "Just pretend I didn't say anything."

"He wantonly killed Tria and Merovinga, but there was only one wound on Brunhilde's body.

why?

Because this girl is young, beautiful, and seems to be the ultimate goal of the murderer.

After checking the information, it can be found that these three people have two things in common. First, their clothes after death are white.Second, their birthdays are both today. "

And recall someone with these qualities, girl, whose birthday is today, who prefers white—Elicidor Chalibert! "

Without thinking, the name popped into his mind.

"Should have thought of that!" Like the rainbow colors he used on porn, his level of knowledge limited his ability to commit crimes. "Susan Dumitian, someone is teaching him to commit crimes!"

"A floor sweeper is hardly a reader of Mark Levy."

"Gleeson!" Sherlock suddenly called out, and Lestrade stood up very consciously. "Send someone to Erichdore Chalibert's flower shop! Suson Dumitian must be around there." !” Shouted Sherlock, turning to him.

"Why?" He obviously didn't understand Sherlock's order.

"As a normal person with a precarious IQ, Grayson, what would you like to do after giving a gift?" He sneered, "Of course, go and see the recipient's reaction."