Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 48 Come in quickly.

"Tell me about it?" Sherlock ignored the ridicule in Watson's words.

The latter fiddled with the hair on his forehead, with a bit of complaint in his expression: "You are really inconsiderate. Don't you plan to thank me first? I just bought you a drink, and something like this happened. I want to help you with the interrogation. Do you know how energy-consuming it is to interrogate a person?"

"I think you don't need to pretend at all." Sherlock said with squinting eyes: "Look at your flushed face!"

"Really? Well, let's stop pretending now." Watson's habit was revealed, but he didn't take it seriously at all and continued: "He did tell your name to a person named———— Theodore Sloane.”

"Who is that?"

"A pope whose church area is in Cleveland, more than 700 kilometers away from London."

When he heard the word pope, Sherlock couldn't help but raise his eyebrows.

"And the gentleman in the room just now said that His Holiness Pope Theodore will come to London in about a month." Watson continued, and then suddenly thought of something: "Wait a minute, a pope is going to Leaving your own parish and coming to London? This is not normal. Could it be that the Day of Holy Love is really coming?"

Of course, Shylock doesn't care about the Day of Holy Love. He has no respect or admiration for people like the Holy Son or Holy Girl who stand at the top of the Holy See's power, unless they die suddenly and let himself investigate the case. Otherwise, he didn't expect to have anything to do with it.

"But a pope should not pay attention to me, a commoner." Sherlock said as if nothing happened.

"That's not necessarily true. In the question and answer game just now, the gentleman said that Deacon Bader and Pope Theodore have both experienced training on the battlefield. Although they only lasted for three short years, they are affiliated with The army is the Holy Cult Vanguard Army, which is under the command of General [Patton].

As far as I know, the people who worked under General Patton all have a common characteristic, and that is extreme protection against shortcomings. "

Speaking of this, Watson's expression became a little sad, as if he was recalling the good times of bloody fighting along the Redeker Strait.

Sherlock lit up a cigarette leisurely: "I see, the relationship cultivated in the army is indeed extraordinary. After all, we are friends who have been together for a long time."

"Then what should I do? You're dead. It's not easy to find a friend you can talk to." What Watson said was very sad, but his tone was completely different. It was even a bit like a kid who wanted to watch the fun. expect.

Sherlock was too lazy to pay attention to him: "Don't worry, he has reached the position of the Pope, and he is definitely not a fool. Deacon Bader has violated the laws of the Holy See and will definitely die, even if the other party is a bishop, or even a red-robed bishop. , and it is impossible to ignore the Holy See and come after me blatantly."

"But I just want to get rid of you easily, and no one will care about you, a commoner?"

"I know two clergymen who could easily bring this to the table."

"Do you know the clergy?!" Watson was a little surprised, but then he thought about the rumor that the detective's recommendation letter for employment was handwritten by a high priest, so he nodded slightly.

"Haha, you are indeed an interesting person. It is not so easy for civilians to get to know clergy."

"You're quite interesting. It's even more difficult for a civilian to become a medic of the Crusaders. And he retired intact at such a young age and suffered from such severe post-war emergency syndrome. It's weird no matter how you think about it." Locke said, blowing out a puff of smoke.

During this period, he discovered that Watson's smiling expression seemed to be engraved on his face, and his eyes were slightly opened, hiding a pair of cold eyes staring at him!

But he didn't care at all.

"Okay, since you didn't ask about my past, I certainly won't dig up your secrets. I'm going back. The place I just rented will be treated as a strange person by the landlord if I stay out late at night. It would be bad if I kicked out of the apartment." Sherlock waved his hand.

"Do you need me to send you off?"

"of course not"

After saying that, he put on the long windbreaker and left Watson's house.

Sherlock is gone.

Watson came to the window and stood quietly, watching through the glass that the detective, whom he had only met twice but who gave him a very different feeling, walked out of the apartment building, then stood on the long street and smoked another cigarette. , waited for a full fifteen minutes before finally getting on a carriage and slowly disappearing into the London night.

He looked out the window and meditated, but he didn't know what he was thinking.

Suddenly, he found that he was very energetic. Although he drank a lot tonight, he didn't feel sleepy at all.

Maybe he really found some hope in this boring life.

As a result, Watson became increasingly happy, and his laughter echoed alone in a person's apartment, sounding a little penetrating.

Oh, no, there is no one in the apartment. On the other side of a small door, there is a poor guy tied to the operating table. This man is lying flat at the moment. No one cares about what he has gone through. He is just The scream was probably beyond the scope of human beings, and turned into bursts of miserable neighing like a dying beast. The door was closed, and his miserable voice could not be heard outside at all, and he did not know when he would die. .

It goes on like this, goes on

And the doctor who looked harmless but had the most cruel methods was now putting on his coat, picked out a bottle of wine that didn't look cheap from the wine rack, opened the door to the apartment, and left. go out.

Watson couldn't sleep, so just like those nights when he couldn't sleep and suffered from post-war stress syndrome, he picked up a bottle of wine, went downstairs to the apartment, walked through the quiet street, and turned another The deep alley finally led to a discarded steam boiler piled in a corner.

He knocked on the door.

Well, yes, this boiler actually has a door, which is actually a wooden board tied to the coal filling port of the boiler with iron wire, but the disabled old man insisted on calling it a 'door'.

It's probably because it makes him feel like he's at home.

After a while

"Who is it?" came an extremely impatient, almost angry voice.

"It's me," Watson said softly.

"Get out!" the voice yelled again angrily.

"I brought wine."

There was silence for a while, and there were several sounds of wine bottles being knocked down inside the door. Then, the wooden door was pushed open, and a 60-year-old old man in coarse clothes sat inside the door, with a flattering smile on his face. .

"Hey, it's Watson. I didn't even recognize it just now. Come in quickly."