I founded Tantric Buddhism in London

Faced with the invitation of the female detective, Watson bluntly refused.

"Sorry, I'm still used to living alone."

His gaze seemed to be involuntarily aimed at the lameness and injured arm, giving the impression that although he was physically disabled and mentally strong, he still had a strong sense of self-esteem and was unwilling to rely on others or accept help from charity.

Charlotte nodded, "I understand, then you should be careful."

"By the way, the assassin of the Flash Blade Order who attacked at night, although he is now lying in the morgue of Scotland Yard... may be a useful clue. Should we investigate his behavior?"

"It's also a direction to pursue. Do you still remember his appearance?"

"I remember."

Of course Watson remembered that he had received various trainings in the past...or should be said to be another future due to work requirements, including how to memorize efficiently and quickly.

In fact, most mortals in the world cannot recall a specific face. Even the most familiar person who gets along day and night has a vague and hazy impression in their mind... because their brains are receiving visual information. At that time, only the most distinctive features were retained, and the rest of the minor details were ignored.

This is actually a highly efficient method for the brain. There is no need to record too many details. Only relying on partial features is enough to recognize the other person's face and identify the corresponding information when they meet next time.

But for Watson, who was professionally trained and had excellent observation skills given by moths, even if he had only briefly touched the facial details of the subject, he could recall it as easily as walking into the room and opening the drawer to take out the photo.

Watson said:

"He was a young man in his mid-twenties, with thick black eyebrows that were drawn straight down at the end, a pair of triangular eyes with cunning eyes, and a long and wide mustache like a broad knife on his lips. Specifically, The facial features look like——"

He compared the size and distance in his mind and said in a rather certain tone:

"The distance from the forehead hairline to the chin is about 9 inches, the width of the chin is about 1.7 inches, and the distance between the ears is about 6 inches."

"The inner angle of the eye is about 70 degrees and the outer angle is about 55 degrees. The eyes are about 1.5 inches long and 0.8 inches wide."

"The nose is slightly longer by nearly 3 inches, the wings of the nose are about 1.3 inches wide, and the corners of the nose and mouth are about 90 degrees."

"The lips are about 2 inches wide, the upper lip is about a wheat grain thick (0.33 inches) to the touch, and the lower lip is a little thinner."

Holmes had already taken out the drawing paper and pencil, and when she heard the first sentence, she had already started to draw a simple grid line and shape.

Although she is not good at impression, beast, Dada and other painting schools that focus on inner expression, she is particularly focused on realism. The portraits under her brushstrokes are highly replicas of real scenes, just like accurate photos. It is also a skill that serves for detective purposes.

"No, the downward angle of the eyebrow tail should be larger, reaching nearly 120 degrees, and the length of the eyebrow tail should also be shorter and sharper..."

Watson guided the adjustment of details from the side, pointing his finger on the drawing paper, "The bridge of the nose should be a little higher, and the lower part of the nose should be wider, until it reaches this position."

Soon, with the joint efforts of the two, a sketch that was as precise as a portrait was produced.

If Victor Feuerbach was still alive, he would not be able to help but exclaim when he saw this portrait, who secretly took a photo of me without me noticing? !

Holmes took a long breath and blew away the pencil shavings on the paper, "Are you sure you don't need to modify it?"

"Okay, that's enough. It's already 80-90% similar."

"Okay, let's go to Scotland Yard now and ask Grayson and other police officers to help check whether they can identify this face." Holmes suddenly smiled and said: "Grayson always looks down on our private detectives, now I I want to see what his face looks like when he goes to dispatch and order them with the badge of the Anti-Suppression Bureau."

The female detective and her assistant got into Victor's carriage and headed to Scotland Yard to investigate another Victor.

Scotland Yard is not actually located in Scotland and is not responsible for the policing of Scotland. It is so named simply because it is built on the site of an old Scottish royal palace.

Baker Street and Scotland Yard were not too far apart, only about three miles away, and they soon reached their destination.

This was the time when Scotland Yard police officers on the day shift alternated with those on the night shift. Police officers wearing Prussian army-style helmets came and went.

As soon as Holmes arrived at the door, he rushed in. The police officers who came and went seemed to have heard the name of this detective Holmes, and they took the initiative to avoid a passage.

By the time Watson walked in slowly with a cane, the female detective had already finished negotiating with Grayson, who looked haggard. His expression seemed extremely reluctant.

Grayson walked shyly to the center of the hall.

"Ahem——"

He cleared his throat, held up a portrait of Victor Feuerbach and shouted into the crowded hall:

"Everyone! Please also ask all colleagues to come and see if they have seen this face in their respective neighborhoods."

Grayson's words seemed to have some appeal in Scotland Yard. Upon hearing his voice, faces that were either tired, haggard, or energetic looked over.

"Who is this kid? He doesn't look like a good person."

"I've never seen it before. It looks unfamiliar."

"Grayson, at least tell me the scope of your activities!"

The hall of Scotland Yard suddenly became noisy, and there were constant talks and whispers among each other, but Watson noticed that there was a police officer in the crowd who had just returned from night duty, yawning and staring at the sleepy eyes, looking at the portrait as if He is thoughtful and seems to be identifying.

The police officer didn't seem to see clearly. He squeezed through the crowd and took a few steps closer. He stared at the portrait in Detective Grayson's hand with wide, bloodshot eyes.

He stretched out his hand and shouted: "Mr. Grayson, I once met this man in the neighborhood I was responsible for - Victor Feuerbach. His family of three lived near Victoria Park."

The female detective asked before Grayson could speak: "Do you know the specific address?"

The police officer shook his head, "I can't remember the exact address, but it was probably on Jodrell Street."

"Very well, thank you very much."

The female detective thanked her slightly and took the portrait that Grayson was still holding and walked out of the door. The crowded crowd once again cleared the way for her.

Jodrell Street was a little far away from Scotland Yard, and as the road became increasingly crowded, the carriage could not run at full speed. By the time they arrived at their destination, it was already noon.

Charlotte got out of the car and stopped an aunt who was carrying a vegetable basket and seemed to be preparing to go home to cook. She asked for the address of the Feuerbach family. Perhaps she saw this beautiful lady leaving in a high-end carriage engraved with the coat of arms of the nobles. Next, the aunt can be said to know everything and tell everything, even the specific situation of Feuerbach's family of three.

"Are you looking for little Victor of Feuerbach's family? I heard that he hasn't come home for several days. Old Feuerbach was so angry that he lost his temper at home every night, saying that he would wait until little Victor came back. I must break his legs."

"His sister, Little Rose, has also been running around anxiously these days to find out about her brother. Several times I saw tears on her face that had not yet been wiped clean..."

The female detective showed a polite yet elegant smile, "Then do you know where their home address is?"

"I know, it's right there."

The basket lady pointed to a dilapidated cabin not far away. Yellow weeds were sparsely growing in the yard. More than half of the white paint on the cabin had peeled off, revealing the original color of the wood like a scar.

The female detective thanked her and walked over with her assistant. They walked into the courtyard with half of the fence collapsed and knocked on the door gently.

Dong dong dong——

After three beeps, the door opened.

The person who opened the door was a young girl in her prime. Her face was a bit haggard, and she had shoulder-length short hair. The flat bangs on her forehead covered half of her raised, curved eyebrows. Her eyebrows were almost exactly the same as Victor's. Zhang Yingying's little mouth was pale and bloodless, and it seemed that she was the target's sister, Rose.

Rose looked at the fashionable and beautiful lady in front of her, wondering if she had found the wrong door, and asked doubtfully:

"Madam, who are you looking for?"

Today I will sort out the details a little bit and think about how I can give William a decent face later...

Try to restore double updates later