[Comprehensive] Today is also proving to Sherlock that I am a traveler

Without letting Sivir take a closer look, Sherlock put the pocket watch into his breast pocket, and then looked down at the piece of paper that was pressed under the pocket watch.

It was a corner that was hastily torn from a certain notebook, the edges were rough and uneven, and even the handwriting on it was scribbled. It could be seen that the person who wrote this note was not steady in writing, and his hands were shaking with fear.

There was only one word on the note, and a heavy ink line was pulled out at the end, scratching the paper.

Liesoram.

Sherlock didn't understand what the word meant, but he guessed it meant something in particular, something with a very special function.

"lie... soram..." Sivir spelled out its pronunciation in a daze, and looked at Sherlock inexplicably.

Sherlock folded the paper. "You don't have to think about it. Flora Davis' death was indeed an accident. You can't turn an accident into a stupid murder."

Sivir couldn't help but wryly smiled, the same meaning was just a more euphemistic word he had just said to Krista not long ago.

"Anyway, I still want to know the meaning of these things she left you." It must be very important to be entrusted so carefully.

"Oh, you can understand that her conscience has discovered it." Sherlock's tone was not without irony. She would give this evidence to herself, probably because the death of Alan Davis stimulated her.

Neither he nor Christa expected that all the truth behind this was connected from the beginning.An inseparable connection.Flora Davis, a woman who has long since faded from memory, holds all the secrets.

Unfortunately, she is dead.

When Sherlock returned to 221B, it was dusk, the curtains were drawn tightly, and the lights in the room were not turned on.

Krista sat on a sofa, staring dazedly at a point floating in the air.

Mrs. Hudson had warned him that Krista was in a bad mood when she walked in the door.A bad mood that even Mrs. Hudson could sense was probably very bad.

"Blueberry cake." He put down the box, and then explained after a pause: "There are no more strawberries."

Christa regained consciousness from the emptiness, and after a while, she remembered that she had asked Sherlock to bring the cake, "Ah... oh, it's okay..."

Sherlock glanced at her, bent down and untied the ribbon that bound the cake box, and the blueberry cake with a fruity and sweet smell was exposed in the air, dotted with a few round pieces of chocolate.

It wasn't until Christa took the cut cake from Sherlock's hand in a daze that she really reacted.

Sherlock! Cut the cake!!!

Is London going to be bombed?Or did Sherlock catch the wrong murderer and lose his job? !!

She looked at him cautiously, still holding the cake plate in her hand, "Are...are you okay?" Did McCoff make him mad?

Sherlock glanced at her in distaste, "Which of us do you think looks like the abnormal one?"

"Of course it's you." Christa spoke without any pressure. She smiled and scraped a layer of cream from the side of the cake with a bread knife, and quickly wiped half of the detective's face.

"Hahaha..." She couldn't straighten up laughing, the bread knife still stained with butter was held in her hand, and the cream mixed with blueberry jam made a weird color on Sherlock's face.

Sherlock stared at her intently.

This prank obviously made Christa feel a lot better. She felt the delicate cream melt on the tip of her tongue, and squinted to see Sherlock wash his face.

"I closed the door when I went out." Sherlock sat down again, very sure of his memory, "Your lock-picking skills are well practiced, so you shouldn't complain about my lock-picking skills. .”

He spoke in a high-sounding manner, proud of himself for having found an excellent reason to enter the house without the owner's consent.

Christa inserted the fork back into the surface of the blueberry cake on the plate, and said clearly and slowly, "Sherlock, I think you made a mistake, I came in with the key."

"?" The detective was confused for a moment.

Christa smiled and said nothing, and she had to thank Cecil for hiding the keys under the carpet. She and Sherlock both knew it, but Sherlock didn't take it to heart and didn't think about it for a while.

Thanks to Mr. Holmes, who has no taste in life, for not rushing to replace the carpet - the carpet was also purchased by Cecil, with gold patterns, gorgeous and bright, very beautiful.

Although it is not a good habit to randomly enter the house like someone, but she did this behavior today completely unconsciously.

It wasn't until she entered the house that her messy mind was slow to react, and Sherlock hadn't returned.

She took a bite of the little blueberries on the cake, temporarily put aside her worry about the bouquet of white roses, and talked to Sherlock about the gifted child who lived in Professor Smith's house.

"Very sweet child!" she said in a lyrical aria, giving Sherlock a wicked look.

The detective responded by quickly eating the largest blueberry that Krista had left on purpose to decorate the center of the cake.

Krista's eyes widened: "Huh...??!"

"Sherlock!"

Christa wanted to grab him by the collar and tell him to spit out his own blueberries! But after considering the difference in strength between him and the detective, the little girl had to hold back.

"Angus's fruit shop will have fresh strawberries tomorrow." Seeing that Krista's expression softened slightly after speaking, he continued to add, "I ordered two pounds from him when I came back."

Krista blinked and raised her hand to give him a three.

The detective looked at her three fingers for a few seconds, compromised, and nodded.

Krista clapped her hands happily, "You're a good man, Sherlock."

Then don't secretly expect him to be silenced by Sheldon, the little girl Christa, who has no bottom line at all, thought happily.

Sherlock's indifference to the gifted child she mentioned wouldn't help him find any interesting cases, though it would be fine if it made Krista happy.

After Christa finished talking about the show that challenged geniuses with great enthusiasm, she sighed heavily, "Sherlock, you are also a genius, why didn't anyone send you an invitation letter for the show?"

After she understood the rules, she found that what the media wanted to hype was a 14-year-old genius boy. For this reason, this program challenged geniuses from all walks of life, not only underage, but also many long-established celebrities. Everyone.

"That stupid and boring TV show?" It's not that Sherlock didn't receive the invitation, anyway, he is a rare talented detective in London, and it's only natural that he was invited to this variety show produced in London.

The invitation letter had been sent to his website mailbox earlier, and even the program team left a message on his website, but Sherlock ruthlessly ignored it.

There's no way he's going to waste his time on this kind of stupid stupid show!!

"Doesn't it sound interesting? Why don't you try it?" Krista looked at him with a smile, a strand of curly hair fluttering slightly in her ear, "At least getting along with geniuses is more pleasant than getting along with goldfish A little bit."

And judging by the tone of that 14-year-old genius boy, he wanted to challenge these geniuses from all walks of life in their respective fields of expertise.

"Maybe you'll meet a real genius as an opponent."

"Just those troublesome goldfish? If it's you!"