[Zhongyingmei] The clown is actually me

Jack leaned against the bar drinking alone.It seemed that the old man standing at the door did not interest him at all.

Colonel Montran's eyes kept wandering between the old man at the door and Jack, and a dense layer of cold sweat on his forehead continued to flow down his cheeks. He hesitated for a while, and complained: "Please... please wait a moment! Professor, They are the children of Sherlock Holmes!"

professor? !

"You are Professor Moriarty?" Mao Lilan exclaimed.

The old man raised his head. He was wearing an expensive woolen coat and a round hat with a wide brim. His head was neatly combed with silver threads. He was hale and hearty, with high cheekbones. From the depths of the dark eye sockets, two cold rays shot out. He was naked, his lips were tightly pressed, his expression was very serious, his skin was like dry bark, stretched tightly on a thin layer of muscle.

"That's right, I am Colonel Montrang's boss. I was going to have a good night, but I found that there are children making noise here." The old man smiled and folded his hands, "Sherlock Holmes' children, you What's the matter with me?"

Conan frowned tightly, his face was serious, and he didn't speak.Mao Lilan looked around and saw Jack standing there □ tasting wine by himself, without any intention of speaking. It is a good thing that this gentleman is willing to help, but the means are obviously excessive.As a helper in the game, it is enough for him to have such good marksmanship, players like them still need to do the negotiation.Even though she knew that Mr. Jacob was just a piece of data, she still worried that Professor Moriarty would make things difficult for him.Seeing that the old man did not criticize Jack's actions, Mao Lilan couldn't help but heaved a sigh of relief in his heart: "We came here to find out about Jack the Ripper. It was the professor who let him roam the streets in order to make London a capital of terror. Right?"

The old man left Jack alone, either because he was dissatisfied with Jack's behavior, or because he was concerned about the gun in the latter's hand.He only took one look, then looked back, lowered the brim of his hat, and said with a sneer, "You're only half right, Jack the Ripper, he's just a homeless street kid abandoned by his mother in a slum, but his talent Very outstanding, his talent can be seen at a glance, he will be a perfect criminal. So he was trained to be a first-class killer."

"Then why did he kill innocent women? Didn't Professor Moriarty manipulate him into killing?"

The old man smashed his cane on the ground: "Jack the Ripper became a murderer beyond my imagination, and then he lost control. This series of cases is the result of his loss of control. London's underground order is causing damage - if you want to clean up Jack the Ripper, then I can help you a little bit."

Colonel Montrang looked around, hesitantly shouted: "Hello...Professor Moriarty!"

The old man glared at him: "Shut up!"

Colonel Montran flinched and said no more.

"Although Jack the Ripper is out of control, he is still a trained killer. As long as he receives instructions, he should still obey. You just need to go there and wait for him." The old man closed his eyes.

Conan said: "Then how to do it?!"

The old man smiled slyly: "The gentleman next to you will tell you."

Everyone's eyes focused on Jack for a moment.

"Can't talk on the phone, can't send telegrams. Because it may be monitored by the communication company. The Ripper is out of control. He must not dare to see the professor. Even if he dares, the professor will have to hide his whereabouts and not let too many people know. So maybe the newspaper. Like an ad in the morning paper." Jack shrugged.

The old man nodded approvingly.

Conan turned around: "So, who do you want to order him to kill?"

"I guess it's Irene Andora." Jack shrugged.

Zhu Xingxiu scratched his scalp in confusion: "Who is Irene Andora?"

"She is a woman whom Sherlock Holmes admires and respects, and she is also the only one of the opposite sex that Mr. Holmes feels close to 'love'." Mao Lilan replied.

"Hmph, the child of Sherlock Holmes, getting help from Professor Moriarty...It's very interesting. I wish you luck." The old man snorted, turned and walked out of the club.

The next day, Whitechapel area.

The weather was fine, and Conan walked slowly across the emerald green lawn behind the church, where Honey Charles Sturt, the second victim of the Jack the Ripper case, was murdered.

Conan walked forward to the church made of black marble, and found a palm-sized oak wooden sign hanging on the left side of the church's back door.

"On the second Saturday of October, a parent-child charity bazaar will be held." A smiling man's voice came from behind him, and he repeated the words on the wooden sign, "The day Honey Charles was killed was September 9th, which is Saturday."

Hearing the voice, Conan turned his head quickly, and Jacob Buwanaba was standing behind him. He was still wearing the dark dress, and his slender silver cane was hitting the ground one after another.His smiling face was gentle and polite, but it gave Conan a very strange sense of distortion, as if standing in front of him was not a living person, but a huge, constantly rotating vortex: "Mr. Jacob, is that you?"

He didn't hear any approaching footsteps.

"It's me. It looks like you're still playing detective games. Tell me if you're interested. Did you find anything?" Jack said with a smile behind his back.

"Hmm... um! I saw a charity bazaar was held here, and I wondered if Honey was killed after attending the bazaar. I guess Jack the Ripper was hiding behind that low wall, and when Honey came out, Suddenly attacked and killed her." Conan said while pointing his finger at the short white wall next to the church, "But, Mr. Jacob, you were very lucky last night."

"Ok?"

"Colonel Montlang is Professor Moriarty's confidant, you just shoot him to threaten him; the red wine at the end of the long table is placed on the most expensive silk, when a scuffle happens, someone's first reaction is to protect The bottle of wine, not the companion, so I guess, that bottle of wine was prepared by Colonel Montlang and the others for Professor Moriarty, but you drank it straight away; those two things were offensive enough, and Moriah Professor Dee didn't make it difficult for you. So I think, you are either a nobleman or an important position, and even Professor Moriarty doesn't want to have an enemy with you, so you turn a blind eye to your behavior. Right? "

"You are very perceptive, just like Sherlock's child." Jack smiled: "I can't tell you my identity, you just think of me as a prince-level nobleman. But I can tell You, since I met you until now, I haven't told a single lie."

Not lying doesn't mean being truthful either.Conan thought to himself that concealing and stitching together part of the truth can also mislead people's thinking, and even make people come to the opposite conclusion.

"Are you asking me to guess your identity, this is your challenge to the detective?"

"You may think so."

"what is your purpose?"

"interesting."

"What?" Conan was stunned for a moment, "Interesting? Just interesting?"

"Yeah, my best friend is a detective after all. It's a lot of fun to set up a puzzle, put a fog around it, and watch the detective go around it and finally smile when he solves it. "Jack folded his hands, and tapped the silver clown cane with his slender fingers, "I'd be happy to play some innocuous games with the detective, such as the current, 'guess who I am'."

"Is there any reward for guessing correctly?"

"Yes, the sense of accomplishment of finding the answer on your own. You detectives like this the most."

"You..." Conan couldn't laugh or cry for a while.

"You are indeed very similar to Sherlock. But your detective ability is too trivial. You believe that every clue at the scene has its value, and you believe that all the evidence will help you point to the murderer. Your detective ability is indeed very strong, but often A crime that can't be dealt with, and guess what it is?"

Conan pondered for a while: "There is no reason, no reason, and no rules to commit crimes at random."

Once this kind of case happens, it will be very difficult for them to be detectives.Detecting this kind of case requires the police to spend time visiting and reviewing a large amount of surveillance data.It is equivalent to using the most stupid method to conduct a blanket investigation and find a needle in a haystack.

"This kind of case rarely happens." He added, "The perpetrator of this kind of case is the most evil criminal."

"Yes, Conan. Do you believe in the existence of absolutely evil people? To them, a shot in the head is as common as you kick a pebble while walking. They interrupt the child with a heartless grin. The bones of the whole body paralyze young girls, they know how evil they are, but they will never stop committing crimes, and they will never repent for it, do you believe that such people really exist?" Jack said deeply Looking at him, there was a cold glow in the golden eyes, like phosphorous fire flickering in the darkness.

"I..." Conan was silent for a while, unknowingly, he no longer pretended to be a child in front of this man, but used the identity and tone of an adult to talk to Mr. Jacob on an equal footing, " I haven't seen it, but I've heard of it, we call this type of person 'antisocial personality disorder', they can't empathize with others like normal people, they are very aggressive, they have no shame, they don't fit in with people. "

"And do you believe they have a conscience, even a little bit? Before they shoot someone in the head, do you think for a moment they think, 'This is not good'?"

"I don't know, I'm not a psychiatrist, but—" Conan pondered for a long time, "Maybe there are, but very few. I once heard my father say that most of these patients' conditions are 'sane brakes with poor contact' ', rather than 'no brakes at all'."

He looked at Jack and observed carefully, but the latter seemed to be wearing a heavy iron mask, and all his expressions were perfectly upside down under a perfect smile.When he got this answer, he still smiled. There was no warmth in the smile, making it hard to see whether he was satisfied with Conan's answer.Maybe his own words are not important, this Mr. Jacob has already made a judgment in his heart.Conan watched as Jack took out a stack of neatly stacked London daily newspapers, handed them to him, and then showed his signature gentle smile: "This is today's daily newspaper, go find the clues Professor Moriarty left for you."

Conan took it, but the first thing he did was not to look at the advertisement page that the old man of the club said before, but to quickly turn over a few pages and glance at the corner of the newspaper.

Sure enough, it was this thing, he guessed right.

And different from last time, last time the page of the newspaper here was clean, without any trace of graffiti.And now, here is the handwriting of Mr. Jacob Buwanabha.This is a deliberately left clue, and Mr. Jacob is reminding himself—no, for the detective, it is already clear to do this to this extent.He told Conan his identity openly, and it was also as a reward for him answering the question.Mr. Jacob Buwanaba didn't care about the content of the answer at all. All he wanted was the act of "answering".

Conan put down the newspaper and looked deeply at Jack's back.

Jacob Buwanaba - I should have thought this was a very simple play on words.The answer has always been close at hand, and maybe you didn't bother to hide it in the first place.

I had my doubts before, but now I can confirm the real name you are using now.But when you said you wanted to play "guess who you are" with me, the answer was obviously not who you are now.Because after I know your name in the game, there is only one last question left:

Behind this identity, who are you?