[Comprehensive] Mrs. Holmes Daily

The driver was forced to drive like a dog for three after 10 minutes in Birmingham.

Sherlock: "Miscalculation, London to Birmingham took less than four and ten minutes, and when the driver was frightened, it only took half an hour."

Ludwig covered his face:

"...Mr. Holmes, I feel so ashamed, so I have to stand a little farther away. You can do whatever you want. Don't feel that your self-esteem has been hurt."

Ludwig looked at Sherlock, who was lying on the grass, disguised as some kind of animal, and looked at the vehicles coming and going, thinking of Alexander.

Sherlock turned his head in a oleander bush:

"You're standing too far away, I can't hear you, what are you talking about?"

"...It's nothing, you can continue to lie on your stomach."

Sherlock stood up: "This is it."

"Why are we in such trouble? Why don't we just make a phone call and ask Lestrade? There should be logistics records."

"The logistics are just a record of the receiving point at each stop - and, I never said, where the piano was shipped from."

……

"found it."

Sherlock stood under the warm yellow light, raised his head slightly, and looked at the residential area in front of him. The light cast shadows on his face, like a perfect marble statue.

"This is the building."

Ludwig recovered from Sherlock's perfect profile:

"While knowing the answer is obvious, how...how did you find this place?"

"soil."

Sherlock stared at the floor, wondering what he was thinking:

"The soil on the stones I found at the entrance of the theater was alkaline—if I'm not mistaken, those stones are what add weight to the piano."

Ludwig exclaimed:

"Those pebbles you found at Lestrade's feet this morning? No wonder you've been studying them for so long! . . . So?"

Sherlock looked not far away.

"The soil in Birmingham, mostly acidic red soil, the soil on those rocks is alkaline - there's only one place in Birmingham where the soil is alkaline."

Ludwig followed his gaze and saw an abandoned chimney not far away.

In the quiet and open place at night, the chimneys and abandoned factory buildings are like a huge cave, engulfing the bustling, boundless, black wilderness.

"Is it because of that abandoned factory over there?"

"Yes, half a century ago, it discharged more than ten years of alkaline industrial wastewater."

"...It's amazing, you have been in the interrogation room, how do you do the acid-base test?"

Ludwig followed Sherlock's footsteps, thinking of Sherlock's behavior of observing flower petals against the sun in the morning.

"……petal."

Many petals of common plants can be directly used as acid-base indicators.

In the previous interrogation, Sherlock had been testing with petals and stones, and was questioned by Lestrade once for this.

"That's right, the rose extract is green in an alkaline environment."

Sherlock didn't look back, he just said in a mocking tone:

"I'm really thankful for your first teacher, you still retain some elementary school chemistry knowledge."

"..."

Which primary school student learns acid-base preparations?

Those who have not attended the nine-year compulsory education should not talk nonsense!

This is at least high school chemistry knowledge, thank you!

Sherlock strode up the stairs, and Ludwig trotted to keep up.

"I really don't understand why you want me to be your assistant..."

In the corridor, Ludwig was idly leaning against the wall, the delicate lace of the little black dress was wiped white by the gray on the wall.

She didn't care about letting her expensive little black dress be destroyed like this.

"...Did you hire me with a high salary to run around and exercise with you?"

"No, you're still valuable."

Sherlock took his pocket magnifying glass and searched the corners of the corridor inch by inch.

The lights in the corridor went out, Ludwig stamped his feet, and the lights came back on.

Sherlock continued: "Like keeping the lights on at times like this."

"..."

Ludwig suddenly felt that life was very gloomy, so she left Sherlock and walked upstairs alone.

After a while, she poked her head out and said to Sherlock:

"Mr. Holmes, as expected, are you looking for a small rock?"

Sherlock stopped searching and looked back.

The girl leaned over the handrail of the stairs, her smiling eyes curved under the light, and her hollow little black dress made her legs look very fair and slender.

She smiled and pointed somewhere upstairs.

"If you're looking for little rocks, there's a whole bunch of them out there."

Ludwig was a little nervous.

The reason was that Sherlock was taking out a wire to unlock a door, and in the corridor, there was an old lady in a lace petticoat leading a Samoyed, just two or three steps away from them.

How many years will be sentenced in Great Britain to break into a private house?

Ludwig immediately took a step back, pretending to be looking at the scenery in the corridor, as if he didn't know Sherlock.

Mr. Sherlock didn't seem to notice the person coming at all, just like he usually opened the door of his own house, he inserted the wire into the keyhole without haste, and turned...

Then, the door opened so easily.

Ludwig: ...the British door lock manufacturing industry needs to do a deep self-examination.

The dog barked excitedly.

Madam took off her reading glasses: "Young man, are you new here?"

Sherlock put the wire back into his coat pocket calmly, closed the door, and turned around with a friendly smile, whose kindness almost blinded Ludwig's dog's eyes:

"Yes, we work nearby."

She still asked suspiciously: "When did you move here? I didn't even notice, what a disrespect."

"Oh, it's not your fault, ma'am, the Bill Brothers office here... you know, it's too busy, which reduces the wonderful opportunity to say hello to the neighbors like it is now."

"Oh my God."

The older lady said in surprise:

"What a coincidence, my son is also in the Bill Brothers office. His name is John Folson. I think you can get to know him."

Sherlock turned on his powerful observation and reasoning mode, and he was also surprised:

"Is it John? I've heard of him. He is the most powerful legal partner in our firm and has been promoted to supervisor."

He said regretfully again: "Unfortunately, I am still a staff member."

Mrs. Folsom comforted him and said: "It is true that he was promoted to the supervisor not long ago, but he is much older than you. You are still young, so it doesn't matter."

Ludwig saw that the two of them suddenly chatted enthusiastically about the relationship between promotion and character as if they had been neighbors for many years, and he couldn't complain...

Sherlock didn't know what to say again, Mrs. Folsom smiled like a flower, she looked at Sherlock and Ludwig lovingly:

"It's still early, why don't you go to my house and sit down? And John is coming back, you can share your work experience."

Sherlock was moved: "It's very kind of you, ma'am, and I'm also very much looking forward to continuing to discuss the issue of domestic cats and furniture with you."

Ludwig: Problems with house cats and furniture?

...Mr. Holmes, you are truly a winner in life...

Mrs. Folsom's bright drawing-room was full of British taste.

Vintage English lace tablecloth with embossed lace china from China containing Sri Lankan black tea.

And, most British of all, very poor pastries.

Ludwig, who is familiar with the "dark cuisine" nature of the British, wisely chose not to touch them.

Mrs. Folsom took a sip of black tea, sighed contentedly, and sighed to Sherlock and Ludwig:

"What a beautiful couple you two are!"

She smiled at Ludwig:

"Especially your boy friend. The light was too dim just now. I didn't realize it. I've never seen such a handsome, motivated and agreeable young man as Mr. Lestrade—you are a lucky girl."

Ludwig: "..."

So did Mr. Holmes take the name of Inspector Lestrade just by chance?

Poor police officer Lestrade works hard every day, and his image is only a matter of minutes for Mr. Holmes to be ruined.

And even if he is handsome, Mr. Holmes is indeed an out-and-out classic handsome man when he is quiet, but—motivated and likable?

Mrs. Folsom Your eye must be broken.

Sherlock took a sip of his tea: "You are overrated, Mrs. Folsom."

He turned his head to look at Ludwig, his gray eyes were like the dark and unpredictable sea at night, and Ludwig's stiff face was reflected in the pupils:

"In fact, being able to get her is my luck."

Ludwig suddenly felt that not only did her goosebumps loosen and fell all over the ground, she also had hearing problems.

"How romantic."

Mrs. Folsom held her teacup with a fluttering face:

"My dead husband said the same thing to me when he was young."

"Then he must love you very much."

Sherlock naturally took over the conversation, and glanced at Ludwig beside him:

"Because I love this young lady beside me so much that I can sigh like this."

Ludwig sat on the side blankly.

Tens of thousands of grass and mud horses trampled past...

Mr. System, please let me have hearing problems...

Although I know that Mr. Holmes is just using the resonance between the two to dispel the opponent's defense, so as to make a routine.

But Mr. Holmes like this is too dangerous, and the concubine can't hold it.

Mrs. Folsom said with deep emotion: "Exactly."

"By the way, I have something to ask you."

Sherlock sat upright: "We moved the furniture the night before, and I've been very disturbed, for fear that the sound of moving the furniture will disturb the new neighbors."

"Not at all, boy," said Mrs. Folsom. "It's an old-fashioned residential area with thick walls. I've never seen a better soundproofing in London."

Sherlock said in surprise: "Don't you hear any sound?"

"There will still be a little bit, like when people are arguing loudly."

Mrs. Folson said: "But these days, we have small parties almost every day, ballroom dancing with music on, and we don't hear anything—you know, old friends always need a lot of communication. As for the burnout relationship."

Sherlock seemed to breathe a sigh of relief: "It's great that I didn't disturb you."

"Our lovely Miss Donovan doesn't seem to be very talkative. We chatted happily, but left your girlfriend cold."

Mrs. Folsom actively tried to draw Ludwig into their conversation: "Miss Donovan?"

Ludwig: "..."

"Miss Donovan?"

Sherlock stepped on Ludwig under the table.

"Who?" Ludwig came back to his senses: "Ah, sorry, did you call me?"

Donovan?

So did Mr. Holmes use the name of Officer Donovan as well?

Poor Scotland Yard.

Mrs. Folsom said with a smile: "What are you thinking, so preoccupied."

"I was thinking about...the stone thing."