{Fuhua}Stop it Sherlock

choose one. The driver was obviously not interested. Sherlock picked up the one in front of him and held it up to the light, and the driver was relieved. "Okay, eat it." "

"Tell me, who is your patron?" Sherlock raised the medicine in his hand and observed carefully. "For the sake of my dying, grant me a wish. After all, you are also my fan, aren't you?"

The author has something to say:

☆、Pink Research (3)

"Just, eatit." The driver took out his gun and pointed it at Sherlock's head.

"What if I don't eat?" Sherlock looked at the driver, "I can knock you out now and run away."

"I've put a bullet in your head before that." The driver was very excited.At this moment, a gunshot rang out, and the driver was shot in the shoulder and fell to the ground.Sherlock stepped on the table and held the driver's wound. "Tell me, your patron." Unscrewing it hard, the pain is unbearable for most people.

"Ah, Moriarty!" the driver beckoned, and Sherlock remembered the name.

Behind, Lestrade led Donovan to quickly control the wailing driver.Sherlock looked at John, who was shooting, and nodded.John turned his head to the side.Sherlock rubbed his nose, Teddy angry?

The driver was taken away.The suspenseful case was solved, Lestrade breathed a sigh of relief, and walked towards Sherlock who was resting aside.

"Why do they put a blanket on me, they always put this on me." Sherlock, who was sitting beside the ambulance enjoying black coffee with sugar, complained to Lestrade. "They thought you were frightened."

"I was frightened, your shot really frightened me." Sherlock said in a disdainful tone.Lestrade looked at Sherlock.What is this detective talking about?

"Inspector, don't shoot casually next time." Sherlock said so convincingly that for a moment Lestrade thought he had fired the shot.Seeing the firmness in Sherlock's eyes, well, Lestrade admitted it.

"Okay, I'll pay attention next time." Lestrade looked at Donovan, who looked disapproving, "Okay, okay, I'll write the report." Donovan glanced at the proud Sherlock · Freak · Holmes.Turn around and leave.Having settled the issue of shooting, Sherlock looked at John with a normal expression.Well, solve it.

Taking off the shawl, Sherlock walked over with another cup of coffee. "No sugar, right." Sherlock looked at him cautiously.

"You. I've begun to doubt your nationality." John looked at this bold, individual hero.

"You didn't show up to prove that you saw something wrong, keep your strength, and know how to rescue soldiers," Sherlock patted John's head in a strange way. "There are leaves." The detective wouldn't blush even if he lied, not to mention Sherlock has no moral values.

"Well, when I called, Lestrade was leading a drug search in the apartment. So you give me your email, Rachel, (Sherlock left the phone on the floor, with these two words edited on the screen) and you I was already preparing when I used the deceased's mobile phone to send me a text message," John told Sherlock, seeing Sherlock's regretful expression, he couldn't help but stop talking, "What's wrong?"

"You should have told me sooner." Sherlock looked at Watson, "Next time something like this happens, you must tell me as soon as possible, so that you can knock him off." The roommate who emphasized this was speechless for a while.

In other words, Sherlock actually said that because Lestrade is stingy, Sherlock likes to tease him with this.

"Are you hungry?" Because of some small emotions, Mrs. Hudson obviously ignored the dinner for the two of them. In fact, John was fine, but Sherlock, who didn't eat at work, felt hungry after work.

"Yes, chest to back." John looked at his roommate.

"There's a Chinese restaurant on Baker Street, it's open until two o'clock in the morning, why don't you try it, it tastes good." Sherlock introduced the places he often goes to, "The popularity of a Chinese restaurant can be found from one third of the doorknob. The wear and tear can be seen."

Mycroft got out of the car, and looked at the two people talking and laughing in the distance, pursing their lips.

"Another strange case?" Mycroft felt good when he saw John's reaction. "It really benefits the public,"

"This is the man," John reminded Sherlock. "Yes, I know it's him." Sherlock didn't want to see this man.

"Are you coming again?" Sherlock's tone was a little offended.

"As usual, I'm here to care about you." Mycroft's tone was annoying as always.Maybe it's because of the aloofness in it, maybe it's because of the insight into everything inside.The same is true of Sherlock's speech, strong, of course, but without the government's slickness.

"Yes, I've heard." Sherlock said with a sneer, which made his cheekbones stand out even more.

"Don't be so awkward," Mycroft smiled. "I'm on your side, can't you see?"

"Of course... no." Sherlock twisted his body funny.

"We are so similar," Mycroft said with a stern expression, who was less human than Sherlock. "The conflict between you and me always hurts the innocent and makes my mother sad."

"Me?" Sherlock seemed to have heard some unbelievable joke, "It's not me who worries Mom."

"Wait." John interrupted the conversation between the two, "Are you brothers?"

"Yes, this is my brother, Mycroft Holmes. Of course you can ignore him." Sherlock turned to John and explained.

"So, he's your brother, not," John seemed to be looking for the right word.

"The mastermind behind it." Sherlock laughed but held back. "He was about the same."

"Hey, don't say that." Mycroft nodded the black umbrella that he never left his hand, and Sherlock suspected countless times that there was a knife hidden in his black umbrella because it was very heavy.It's strong, and the most important thing is that Mycroft was assassinated alone and then, he survived, the killer had obvious knife wounds on his body, although he used stones or something to cover it up. "I'm at the bottom of the government."

"If you weren't in charge of MIA and CIA," Sherlock was obviously displeased with this, "you would have been a member of the cabinet." Sherlock turned and left after speaking.Then overheard a conversation between John and Mycroft.Christmas dinner, well, this year's one might be a little more interesting.When did Mike's ever-famous mobile phone-controlling female secretary hook up with John?Okay, misunderstood, she is a workaholic.

Looking at Sherlock's figure, Mycroft sighed to the female secretary, "That military doctor may be my brother's savior, or he may be destroyed. In any case, activate the third-level defense."

"To young Mr. Holmes?"

"Both" Mycroft gripped the umbrella handle tightly.

The author has something to say:

☆, go home

"I really can't imagine you two sitting at the same table for Christmas dinner" John looked at Sherlock enjoying fried dumplings.Consider whether to give the roommate a glass of milk to help digestion after returning home.

Sherlock obviously didn't think about it that much. The convenient and delicious food in the middle of the night, fried dumplings is his first choice, which is the best thing.

The two late-night returnees went upstairs quietly.Sherlock tiptoed into the bathroom and quickly began to wash up.When Sherlock came out in his most comfortable blue pajamas, he looked at the stunned expression of his new roommate and the corners of the mouth of the milk on the dining table raised. It was the innocent expression he used when he was taking evidence with witnesses.

"To wash?" Sherlock simply blinked with his clear eyes.Then he watched his roommate go to wash with red ears.The milk was still hot, and Sherlock drank it while sorting out the case this time.By the way, stick a post-it that says Moriarty on the wall.Then he pretended not to see his roommate entering the bedroom of the apartment in his pajamas.Not wanting to remind his roommate that there was only one bed in the bedroom, Sherlock sat in the living room and waited.Sure enough, John came out quickly, looked at Sherlock in the living room and turned back into the bathroom.

"Towels or a hairdryer?" John asked at the bathroom door holding two items.

"Towel, thank you." Looking up, Sherlock remembered that his hair hadn't been wiped yet, but it was the same before, now, um, keep forgetting.Sherlock wouldn't admit that he hadn't even thought about it.John hung up the blow dryer and looked at the dust. He didn't need a roommate's brain to know how often the thing was being used.

"Will I" John stood next to Sherlock with a towel, the corners of his mouth raised.Watching the roommate who organizes the website.

"Of cause sure you can." The corner of Sherlock's eyes knocked on John's shadow, "Thank you."

"Nevermind." John put the towel on Sherlock's head, but the right angle allowed Sherlock to avoid the tragedy of covering his face and John put the towel on his hair correctly.

"Bastard." John muttered, Sherlock pretended not to hear.Although he started to lick Sherlock's head.Make this roll more fluffy.

Sherlock likes smart people. Obviously, his new roommate falls into this category. Although this roommate has too many unnecessary things in his mind, his excellent observation skills make the communication between the two of them effortless, and Sherlock has to admit that , he became interested in this military doctor.Although he is tossing his hair now.Speaking of which, the two have only known each other for a day, but your common experiences are already quite a few.Not many people will follow you for five blocks without complaint, Sherlock attributes this to the nature of the military, and Sherlock recalls the phone call that Mycroft just made.

"That military doctor, you will be interested."

"You're so sure." Sherlock felt that Mycroft's diet plan would never succeed, apparently speaking in the restaurant. "So much so that if you get my affirmation, you will have a big appetite."

"So" Mycroft looked at the red wine glass in his hand, thinking about his younger brother's eyes and movements before, this is the best ability of politicians, observing words and expressions.Maybe Sherlock himself didn't know that the way he looked at John was like looking at those fascinating books when he was a child, well, Mycroft thought those books were tools but Sherlock was obsessed with them.There are already signs of that kind of inevitable victory, but obviously, my younger brother still needs some advice.

"So, for your big belly, I admit, I'm interested." Sherlock raised an eyebrow on the other side of the phone.

"Holmes will always get what he wants." Mycroft took a sip of red wine.

"Holmes is different." Sherlock followed the next sentence obediently, which was the only thing their brothers kept until now besides the confrontation.Holmes is ruthless, but because he has not found anyone who can make Holmes emotional.The father of the Holmes brothers is the best proof of this. The cold-blooded jazz fell at the hands of a female mathematician. Old Mr. Holmes is a cute little old man in front of his wife.

After Sherlock drank the milk, his eyes flashed that he must win.

Waiting for Sherlock's hair to dry again, John put the towel in the dryer.Sherlock stroked his hair and smoothed it out. "Do nightmares affect your sleeping position?"

"Maybe." John looked at Sherlock, as if trying to read what he meant.

"Good night, I hope you don't kick me down." After saying that, Sherlock fell on the bed, leaving room for John, of course.John raised an eyebrow, then rested peacefully.Don't ask Sherlock how he knew he would have nightmares, as long as he knows, how many Sherlock Holmes can there be in London.

Sherlock doesn't have nightmares like a battlefield veteran, but his crazy rationality keeps his sleep light.So, in the early morning, Sherlock opened his arms to let the doctor in his arms back out, "Morning~ Thank you for breakfast." John rolled his eyes, and walked into the kitchen after a simple wash. There were bagged thumbs and human small intestines in the refrigerator , and Petri dishes.Simply, there are a few eggs and cheese and the bread that John took out from the depths of the refrigerator.Toasted bread, fried eggs, simple sandwiches and milk.John was thankful that he didn't have to call his roommate, who was obviously suffering from getting up depression, because Sherlock had already gotten up by himself.

Once Sherlock was sure he was awake, he turned his attention to the breakfast John had made.

"I'll go to the supermarket. Is there anything I need to buy?" John told him intuitively that this roommate with zero or even negative self-care ability would never go to the supermarket.

"It depends on you." Sherlock said it didn't matter, Mrs. Hudson bought his things for him, and he didn't know what to buy.

"I knew it." John nodded.

"What do you know?" Sherlock looked at his doctor with interest.

"Youwill" John eats his sandwich.

"Iwon`t." Sherlock retracted his chair.

"So," John wasn't surprised.

Sherlock's lips twitched uncontrollably.

After John left.Sherlock took out his computer and started looking for information about Moriarty.A man who finances a serial killer, a man who can be found by a taxi driver, is not someone who is unknown.

There are very few things that can be found on the Internet, so Sherlock hacked into an underground trading website, where Moriarty's name appeared, interesting job introductions, and criminal consultation.No photos, oh that's normal, no introduction, that's normal, but Sherlock found something interesting from Moriarty's introduction.He has no interest in pretending to be a criminal to consult him. That contact information will obviously be changed, and people without any information can never be counted on to be caught by Scotland Yard or the London police. Now they can only wait for him to show up again.

Sherlock wrote Moriarty on a piece of paper and put it on the desk. Three minutes later, McCoff called.

"Have you got your little doctor yet?" Mycroft obviously just woke up or hadn't slept all night.

"Hunting takes time." Sherlock didn't want to dwell too much on this issue. "Moriarty, a criminal counselor by profession,"

"Yes, I know him, he is well-known internationally, have you played against each other?" Mycroft started to check the information on the other side of the phone.

"No, it's just coming soon." The corners of Sherlock's mouth rose. "He's boring."

"Boring?" Mycroft laughed, and Sherlock hung up.

The author has something to say:

☆、Why are you angry?

Three days later, during the trial of the serial killer, Lestrade invited Sherlock over. Sherlock, who was "bored" in testing how long the elasticity index of the small intestine changed after death, didn't look up. John went out, not knowing what to do , didn't tell him, although he knew that he could call McCoff to find out, but Sherlock obviously didn't want to.

"Well, part of the impact this time is due to you," Lestrade looked at the bewildered Sherlock amusedly, he really wanted to say something to look at your expression, but he was afraid of this narrow-minded anti-social Looking for revenge, he happily answered Sherlock's question, "Your John's blog. Pink's research."

Sherlock was pleased by Lestrade's words, but the little doctor has a blog and writes about his own case?Sherlock decided to check it out after finishing the experiment.

"When?" Sherlock asked Lestrade, looking down at the microscope.

"The public trial is two days later, at nine o'clock in the morning." Lestrade was glad to have this opportunity to clear the name of the Scotland Yard police.Although Sherlock is an uncertain factor, it shouldn't be a big mistake to invite John at the same time.

"You can go." Sherlock ordered the eviction.

In the evening, John brought back takeaway and watched Sherlock operating the computer, and it was obviously his own.

"Curry beef rice?" Sherlock's keen sense of smell smelled what he liked, but John's disappearance and blog post made him a little depressed.Sherlock is struggling.

"Yes," John knew what he was thinking just by looking at Sherlock's expression. Perhaps John was not good at seeing where the owner of the clothes came from from the wetness of the clothes, but he could see the meaning expressed in people's eyes. From the look of his antisocial roommate, John knew what he was struggling with.

"I'm going to apply for a job as an assistant doctor in a clinic." John put the takeaway on a plate and put it on the dining table, and was satisfied to see that his roommate had already sat at the dining table.

"Successful?" Sherlock recalled the pile of bills he received yesterday, and he didn't seem to tell John that those bills could be sent directly to Mycroft, or that he could settle a few cases by himself.

"Well, it's just a part-time job, 24 hours a week." John looked at the thoughtful roommate, actually a little curious that this guy who doesn't do production is funded by his brother?John thinks it's unlikely, "It can solve the bill problem."

"Yeah." Sherlock nodded, quickly preparing his own dinner.After John put away the plate, he said, "Didn't I say that being my assistant is paid?" Sherlock smiled.

"Shouldn't it?" Sherlock paused when John asked back without looking back. "I'm just curious about how much you, a free consulting detective of the police, will pay your assistant."

"I also take private jobs." Sherlock muttered, "Anyway, I can support you."

"But I still want to have my own job. Otherwise, I'll be bored." John put away the plates and threw away the rotten sugar garlic in the cupboard, which tasted like Sherlock's experiment.

"Are you sensitive to smells?" Sherlock looked at the doctor who was pinching the jar with his fingers and throwing it away.

"My profession requires it." John breathed a sigh of relief. "Smells of rot. So I'm glad your experiment didn't rot."

"I'll pay attention." Sherlock thought about which experiment he still needs to use rotting tissue, maybe he can go to Barts Medical College to do it.

"Sherlock, it's okay." John nodded at the table. "This is your job." John didn't know how subtle Sherlock's expression was, because he had already turned his head away.

The next afternoon, Sherlock retrieved a head from Barts Hospital and put it in the freezer.John suddenly felt that he could not indulge Sherlock, but he obviously had no chance.

The court hearing is a waste of time in Sherlock's view, and his task is to catch the prisoner.But when he complains to John, John points to the jury "sometimes their decisions can make your efforts go to waste." Sherlock thinks, damn it makes sense, but he doesn't care, get caught again.As long as you are a criminal, you have the possibility of committing another crime. This is the nature of the criminal, just as it is his to solve the case.

Sherlock's expression made John want to roll his eyes.

The court ended the trial, and Sherlock was not relieved to see the driver being taken down, but an inexplicable sense of excitement.The game has indeed begun.

"I have a hunch that you won't be too boring in the next time." Weirdly saw McCaw at the gate of the court.He's here to interrogate the driver.Sherlock glanced at his secretary and Mycroft's gear to conclude.

"I have a different opinion." Sherlock turned on his phone and opened a webpage, "The news shows that Moriarty is now in Central Asia. According to the past rules, it will take him at least three days to take over the next order, and now I feel that I'm bored." Sherlock wasn't joking, the experiment was almost finished, and the new experiment still needed an observation period, so he really had nothing to do right now.

After returning home, John turned on the computer, "Hey, Sherlock." Sherlock put down his clothes, or just threw them on the sofa. "Your suit is easy to get indentations." Seeing the roommate's "good habit" John said.

"What case?" Sherlock waved his hand, the little doctor's neatness is really true.

"You have been asked for help, Cheria's diamond." Sherlock opened the article, frowned, and watched John hang up his coat.Also, this case doesn't seem like much fun.Getting on your own blog, finding a client on John's blog, and turning down a case that obviously needs to be confronted with McCoff is not a good thing.Moreover, what they need is not a detective, but a thief. The lovely Al Qaeda always has something missing in its mind.

Sherlock didn't stop John from going to work, because soon, John would understand what work meant to him.And he can't hang the little doctor by his side forever, sometimes it's dangerous.But his little doctor seems to be adventurous, good boy.

Sherlock followed the doctor's blog, just like Mycroft watched it all the time.But the days without cases make Sherlock very boring, like all the data and machines are sitting there and not being used.Boring days make Sherlock easy to break out, but maybe sometimes it would be a good adjustment to molested al-Qaeda, at least the killer they sent left behind a very good knife.

After handing the man over to Mycroft, Sherlock had no time to tidy up, because John came back.

"Are you in a good mood?" John looked at Sherlock who had been sitting on the sofa in the morning, well, don't expect him to find something different in the room.

"Compared to you," Sherlock turned a page of the book, "you go out a lot of time."

"Yes, but I didn't buy anything." John was visibly angry.This made Sherlock very curious, and it was not easy to make this nice guy angry.

"Why" Sherlock looked at John.

"Because I had a fight with the vending machine." John assured Sherlock that he could hear every word, and then John swore he saw the embarrassment and pride flashing in Sherlock's eyes.

"You, and, the machine, arguing?" Sherlock recalled that he destroyed all evidence after buying things with John's card, um, it was clean.

"I'm not sure whether there is a human reason for this." John looked at the roommate who was pretending to be stupid, knowing that he had something to do with it but there was no evidence. "But I need to go back and buy it now. Do you have cash?"

"Well. Use my card." Sherlock gestured to the dining table with his chin, and regretted it in the next second. There was still an obvious knife mark on the dining table.

John obviously saw it. The military doctor who came off the battlefield was obviously very aware of all kinds of traces. He glanced at the roommate who covered his face with a book, and John gave up the tempting idea of ​​finding answers from this roommate who no one could find out that he was lying.

Sherlock breathed a sigh of relief when he heard John's footsteps, and picked up the long knife under his feet to play with.The ancient steelmaking skills, now only those who still adhere to the traditional Al Qaeda can still maintain, streamlined design, will not rust, the handle has obvious religious color, and the Al Qaeda logo.Sherlock took a picture of the logo and sent it to McCoff, and sent a text message 'Add SH to your favorite'. After a while, McCoff called. "How did you get into the Middle East?" Sherlock pouted and hung up the phone.Mycroft frowned, but still gave the sign to the almighty female secretary. The Al Qaeda organization that could find Sherlock was either too shrewd or too idiotic.I am not Sherlock, and I can interrogate the necessary information from the body that Sherlock killed.

Turning on the computer, Sherlock received a personal email.The e-mail was sent by his old classmate Sebastian. Since he became a banker, this so-called old classmate's little head has been filled with McCoff's poor little brains.However, it's really boring recently and this old classmate's proposal can solve the financial problem that the little doctor has been worried about.Maybe go see it.

John's complaints after he came back made Sherlock snicker, and he didn't mention the card, but John seemed to think of something, or something he thought of after seeing the knife marks, and John mentioned Cheria's diamond.Sherlock said simply, "I've sent them an answer."

John didn't ask what the answer was. After packing up his things, he snatched back the computer occupied by Sherlock as usual, and then watched the roommate clasped his hands in thought.

Sherlock thought about it carefully, "I need to go to the bank." Picking up his coat, "Let's go."

Sherlock knew John would follow, and of course he was right.

After arriving at the bank, Sherlock subconsciously observed the surrounding details.

"Hello, long time no see." Sebastian was a fat man with brown hair, and the angle of his mouth was raised, which represented that he was enjoying himself.

"Hi, Sebastian." Sherlock smiled professionally.

"It's been eight years." Sebastian's formulaic politeness made John feel like he was facing a childish version of Mycroft. "This is?" Sebastian looked at John.

"My friend." Sherlock looked at John and smiled.

"Friend?~!" Sebastian's mouth slanted to one ear.It was as if he had heard something unbelievable.It's the expression Donovan had when he heard Sherlock say assistant. "Hello." After speaking, she led the way and walked away. Sherlock looked at his back and raised the corner of his mouth.If Mycroft saw it, he would suspect that something in his belongings was poisoned.

Sebastian takes Sherlock and John to his office. "It can be seen that life is good." Sherlock commented, "I travel around the world twice a month."

"Aha, here you go again," Sebastian smiled fakely, "Don't tell me I have Manhattan sauce on my tie. This guy has had it since he was in college, and at the party the next day he Can tell you who you hung out with the day before." The last sentence was addressed to John.

"No," Sherlock said sincerely with a deadpan face, "I just saw your female secretary with the same tan marks as you, her new American bag and the Chanel perfume that just came out in February, Mysterious Lover. Barely smell it, but the lady secretary is clearly friendly."

"Ahem." Sebastian's expression was a little awkward. "I called you because of a strange thing. Follow me."

"What's wrong with him?" John smiled ferociously, forgive him, Sherlock is not suitable for such a big smile.Seeing John's expression, Sherlock miraculously understood what it meant, and turned into him in embarrassment.

"Sebastian married the president's daughter, but went on a business trip with the secretary. He also bought gifts for the secretary." Sherlock's mouth turned into a perfect charming angle.Satisfied to see that John's expression turned into a formulaic smile, which was the standardized expression when John was distracted.

"The accident happened in the office of the founding president. He didn't lose anything. He just spent a few pennies in the office and left. It should be a message or just a provocation. No matter what, he came in and we didn't see it." Seba Sting opened an office for Sherlock, the white walls inside and the portrait of the old president were sprayed with paint, and the paintings were two patterns, which seemed to be graffiti and symbols.Sherlock looked at the symbol carefully, and he was sure it was a message, but what did it mean, and who was the message for.

"I came to you this time, just for this, please watch the monitoring." Sebastian operated the computer a few times, "There is a 1-minute monitoring gap, and during this 1 minute, someone came in and drew two strokes. I need you to do it." The thing is to find a way for the intruder to get in."

Sherlock looked at Sebastian, the banker really didn't focus on the right place.

"There is a loophole in our security system. It's your job to find it. The salary is five figures. It's an advance payment." At the bank's front desk, after Sherlock knew all the ways to enter the office, Sebastian signed a The check, five thousand pounds, Sherlock handed it to John without even looking at it.

"I'm still the accountant." John flicked the check, calculating how much household, household, how did the word come out.

"You will take care of my account in the future." Sherlock said seemingly casually, and then walked into the office again.As can be seen from the security system, all the main entrances are intact, so unobtrusive.Sherlock opened the curtains, the cold wind was howling, there were tall enough buildings and skylights very close to the bank, but how could it be possible.

In the lobby of the office area, Sherlock looked for a place where the complete symbol could be observed from all angles.Finally found a person, Van Ku.The bank's salesperson in Hong Kong, due to the time difference, Fan Ku was the only one who could see the message at midnight.Knowing Van Koo's address from the bank's employee information website, Sherlock took John to go out.

"Why were you angry just now?" John's sensitivity told him that Sherlock was not in a normal state just now.

"I don't know." Sherlock didn't tell the truth, but he really couldn't explain it clearly, just because of his intuition.Or pure emotion.Mycroft said that Sherlock's EQ is not negative, but for his high IQ, his EQ is almost hidden, but he still exists, just look at Sherlock's maintenance of Mrs. Although I am indifferent, Sherlock will still stand by Mycroft's side when things happen. Maybe he won't in the future, but at least he is here now. Sherlock has principles, but he always has more reason than emotion.

The author has something to say:

☆, banker (1)

"Don't know?" John looked at Sherlock with a stiff face, and kindly decided to leave him alone.

"Taxi!" Sherlock will always spot a taxi the first time.

Looking at John's expression, Sherlock felt that it was better not to say anything now, after all, he himself didn't know why.After ringing the door twice, Sherlock determined that the people inside were either in danger or had run away. After all, the way and time the message appeared revealed an ominous atmosphere.

"Now?" John looked at the doorbell that the doorman was supposed to hear.

"His neighbor." Sherlock pointed to the apparently new house number. "Obviously just moved in." After saying that, Sherlock rang the doorbell.

"Hello~" Sherlock put on an embarrassed little pitiful expression. "I live just downstairs from you, but I don't seem to have seen you."

"Well, yes, I just moved here a few days ago." A female voice came from the doorbell.

"Uh, that's actually it." Sherlock winked at John covertly, "I forgot to bring the key."

"Do you want me to let you in?" The female voice was a little puzzled.But apparently she had no doubts about Sherlock's identity.

"I'm afraid that's the case. I still need to borrow your balcony." Sherlock's voice was slightly agitated, and he swore that this emotion was true.

Pass by the enthusiastic female neighbor and flip down from the balcony.Sherlock is very agile, so agile that the female neighbor began to consider whether there is a chance to develop with this handsome neighbor.

Walking into the room from the living room, Sherlock noticed something was wrong.Because the body of the owner of the house was lying on the bed facing the window.After a quick check, Sherlock opened the door and let John in.Then call the police and call for Officer Lestrade.But Sherlock was not very happy after the person came.An autopsy has been done.

"Hello officer, first time meeting" Sherlock always feels better after getting what he wants.

"Of course I know who you are," the sheriff said, with a slightly raised hairline, "and I hope you haven't destroyed any evidence."

"Of course, there is still a box of evidence waiting for the police officer to review." Sherlock pointed to the suitcase that John had just rejected. Although he was sure that he didn't touch the underwear of the deceased, he didn't mind the police officer trying it.

"I'm not a police officer. I'm Inspector Dimock. This is my area of ​​responsibility." Dimock actually spoke more like he wanted to say that this is my territory.However, no one dared to say such informal words in front of Sherlock, the aura was too strong.

"Okay, Inspector, why is Lestrade here?" Sherlock handed over the plastic bag in his hand, then watched Inspector Dimock open it unpreparedly, and then took it out when the Inspector was about to take it out. Sherlock obviously didn't want to torture himself when "It was taken from the mouth of the dead, Inspector."

John felt that Sherlock definitely did it on purpose.Dimock walked to the living room and looked at the forensics officer, "It's obviously a suicide."

"What?" Sherlock looked at Dimock with disbelief as if he saw a police officer who was stupider than Anderson.