[Sherlock Holmes] Captured a detective

Chapter 32

"What's the matter, Holmes? You don't look quite right. What's the matter?" John finally regained his composure, and licked his fingers that were stained with sugary rice.

"No." Sherlock answered briefly.

"It's not like you to be so silent. It's tea time now." John said cheerfully.

Sherlock: Is there any connection between the two?

"Horse racing is not a good habit, Watson, at least keep the rent (Jenny gave John a look), and I need a little stimulation now." Sherlock said with a quick glance in John's face.

John held the fork, wondering if he should continue eating, and then he made a face and asked, "Why...why...uh?"

"invest?"

"Yes."

"Your pocket."

John rummaged through his pocket, and there was a horse race ticket inside. "Oh." He thought he had found the answer, but he didn't think about how Sherlock knew he had a horse racing ticket in his pocket.

"Doctor Watson, this coffee is really delicious. You should wait patiently for a cup." Jenny filled the filter paper with boiling water again, then sat down and sipped the coffee slowly, waiting for the water to slowly drip into the pot.

"Next time, tea is fine." John raised his glass.

"Hmph." Sherlock hummed inexplicably, keeping his eyes blank.

Jenny had to pour the last cup of coffee into Sherlock's cup, but she added milk and sugar to it.Sherlock picked up the cup unconsciously, drank it, and didn't notice any difference from the previous one at all.

"It's such a waste." There's no difference... I won't drink high-end coffee next time, hum! qaq

John snickered secretly.

Sherlock glanced at John suspiciously, his thoughts still stuck on John's question just now, so he said, "The one who died yesterday."

"What?" John Zhang Er couldn't figure it out.

"I'm thinking about the dead man yesterday."

"What happened to the deceased?" This time it was Jenny who asked.

"contradiction."

"Oh, Holmes." John rolled his eyes. "Can you make it clear at once?"

Sherlock said with an expression of "I've made it so clear that you still don't understand": "The dead man, I read the identity information Lestrade brought, it said he was a good citizen, but His dead body said otherwise."

John: "What do you mean? I am getting more and more confused, Holmes."

"There are traces of long-term contact with guns and weapons on his fingers, and there are more than five kinds of tobacco smells on his body, but the French cigarettes in his pocket are only popular in a small part of France... Don't be surprised, I am very fond of tobacco. He has done some research, and has written a paper on the differences between 243 types of soot... There are traces of three kinds of wine on his chest and the corner of his clothes..." Holmes quickly listed his findings.

"But it doesn't mean anything. Maybe he likes to smoke and drink, and likes to try new varieties? Weapons...sometimes this city is not safe." John retorted.

"Oh, Watson Watson, use your little brain. Even if you like to change tricks, most people are used to only one or two."

"Smuggling?" Jenny already understood.

"Yes, smuggling, isn't it, Holmes?" John suddenly realized.

Sherlock gave Jenny an appreciative look.

"Wait, Holmes, you just said that his information says that he is a good citizen?" John finally realized that something was wrong.

"This shows that someone has tampered with his information." Jenny continued.

"And it's very pretty," Sherlock added.

"How could this be?" John was very surprised. No matter how dull he was, he could understand what was going on. It's a good thing he still trusts government functions so much... It's really tiring. "Who could it be?" he asked.

"I do have one or two suspects in my mind, but I think the most likely one should be that person." Sherlock began to ponder again, "This person is comparable to the Napoleon of the British criminal world, almost half of the cases in London are It was planned by him, he is very smart, he does everything without leaking and leaving no trace. I have been trying to catch him since a few years ago, but he is a thousand times more cunning than a loach." Sherlock sighed.

"So, who is he?" John asked.

"I don't know," said Sherlock. "I don't know his name, except that it's a capital M, and they call him Professor."

Jenny felt her heart beating very fast, but her perfect acting concealed the appearance, and even Sherlock didn't notice the difference.

"Professor," she had heard that title, was from the place where she bought the gun, that is, from the dead man.

When she secretly went to buy a gun, she hid aside and overheard a conversation. It was because of that conversation that she gave up the idea of ​​getting a sum of money through underground methods.London in this era is darker than she imagined, like a swamp, which makes you want to step on it and trample on it, but when you actually step on it, you realize that you can't leave at all, you can only I watched myself sink, and finally became a part of the quagmire.

Without trusted accomplices, without high-tech means, and as a woman, it is almost impossible for her to think of doing it without a trace, especially when Jenny discovers that there are still many smart people in this world.

Jenny knows exactly what it's like to be in the dark, her other memory, to leave the darkness and never go back to her hometown.

After Sherlock finished speaking, John was dumbfounded, "I don't know the name? So did you find anything this time, Holmes?" John asked stupidly.

"No." This was what made Sherlock most dissatisfied.Just a little bit, thought Sherlock, reaching for the glass to take a sip, and then realized that it didn't taste right... Sherlock looked down at the glass, the brown liquid was sloshing in it.Sherlock looked at the other two people, one looked at the sky, the other looked at the hands, but they didn't look at him...

Sherlock: Childish!

"Ah, by the way, I have a note from Billy Passmore to Mr. Holmes." Before Sherlock was about to speak again, Jenny suddenly remembered the note, and she asked Fantine to send the note to Mr. Holmes. Hand it to Sherlock: "A man named Billy Passmore asked me to pass this note."

Sherlock took the note, and didn't open it right away, but twirled it around in his fingers, observed it, and then swept it under his nose.

"Living in Liverpool? Not near. I didn't expect to have customers so far away. Captain? No, no, no, it should be the first mate, serving for the East India Company, red-faced, dark-skinned, on vacation. Something happened to someone close to him, It should be brothers or sisters, it is always hard to guess..." Sherlock opened the note, "One case, Watson, one case, we are busy again, can your hospital ask for leave? Maybe we need to travel for a few days. God." Saying that, Sherlock stood up and was about to put on his coat.

"Now?" Jenny called Sherlock, "but dinner is coming soon."

"I don't need much food when I'm working on a case, and who knows how long it will take." This is Sherlock's habit, he always thinks that food will affect thinking.

Jenny: "..." Who asked you this, don't you eat other people if you don't eat it?

John: "Wait, let me finish this."

Sherlock and John had gone before dinner and came back after, but they hadn't eaten anything, luckily Jenny had left them supper, and it was still hot.Then John checked Jenny's feet again.

"It's recovering well, it's almost healed, but you still need to use crutches for a few days." John rewrapped Jenny's foot with a bandage to prevent her from aggravating the wound again with excessive force.

"In that case, a trip wouldn't be a good idea," Sherlock said, standing by the table.

"What? What trip? Mrs. Hudson, are you going on a trip?" John stuck the bandage with adhesive tape. "Okay."

"Thank you, Dr. Watson." Jenny turned her feet, feeling much more relaxed.

"I also don't think it's appropriate to travel in your current situation." John suggested sincerely.

"No, I think I can." Jenny tried to stand up. "I've been sitting here for two days now, and I'm about to grow mushrooms in this dark, damp London, and it's vacation, vacation, and I'm at least I haven't had a vacation for three years." Jenny said willfully.

Women, self-willed ~ hum!

"But at least wait until your feet get better." John has always been unable to refuse women's requests.

"Oh, Dr. Watson, it's not tomorrow. I haven't chosen a location yet, and then I have to book a hotel and buy a train ticket... I hope to find a beautiful countryside, preferably with convenient transportation. At least I You can rent a carriage for easy mobility. But first thing tomorrow I need to buy a walking stick."

"I have one there." John happened to have a very light crutch.

"Pemberley Park," said Sherlock.

"I think I've heard of this place," John said.

"Pemberley Manor." Sherlock repeated, "It is very suitable for your request. The scenery is beautiful and the transportation is convenient. I think Mr. Darcy is also willing to provide you with a carriage."

"I thought what you were saying was that you didn't want Mrs. Hudson on a trip. . . on vacation."

"Because he knows that I've made up my mind." Jenny raised her eyebrows. "Are you going to Liverpool tomorrow? Billy Passmore has a case?"

"No, not Liverpool actually, just a nearby town a few hours away. Passmore..."

"Mr. Passmore, a first mate of the East India Company, returned the day before yesterday to find his brother dead three days before in a hotel in a small town. According to the innkeeper and his wife, he committed suicide, but Passmore Mr. Er firmly believed that his younger brother was a devout believer and would not commit suicide, so he asked me to check this matter." Before John could explain, Sherlock simply finished the whole incident in a few words.

"That's right." Jenny thought of a question, "But how did Mr. Passmore know about you? Liverpool is not close to London."

"He had a friend who was overly enthusiastic and overly curious, who happened to be an eyewitness to one of my cases while visiting London some years ago... He memorized my old address, and Passmore went to my from the old residence." Sherlock explained

"So it is." Jenny and John said in unison.

Sherlock: "..." Watson, didn't you go with me? Surprised?

"So, what time is the train tomorrow?" Jenny asked again.

"Eight fifty in the morning." John took out his watch and looked at it. "Oh, my God, we need to pack right away."

"Then hurry up and go to bed early. I'll prepare some sandwiches for you to eat on the train tomorrow. It will take a long time on the train. Bring some tea, there should be hot water on the train." The last order will finally come in handy, Jenny thought.