My Detective Roommate [Sherlock Holmes]

Adelia felt nauseous.

At this time, she didn't care about disliking the fact that Tom's hat was dirty, so she stretched out her hand to push the hat down even lower.

In the next second, he looked at the unconscious lady on the ground: "Oh~ My poor little girl, did she get anesthetized again before going out—or maybe, she is about to dedicate her life to science, I have to make her suffer less. "

"By the way, this is my assistant Sam. You have to understand that it is not easy to find an assistant. There are too few people who can understand us. I am so grateful that you can join us."

Wilson also reached out his hand and shook hands with the assistant who was similar in stature to the "Priest", looking at the expression on his face, he seemed to be a like-minded person.

"Tom, you stay here, you may not understand medicine, the more people enter, the more likely the risk of infection will be, please help me look at it—ke——" He couldn't remember the name of his experimental subject .

"Great scientific contributor." Adelia suppressed the sarcasm in her tone, trying to be as sincere as possible.

"Ha! Ha! Tom, I like your wit. You're right. We'll call her a devotee. How humane! Please keep an eye on her."

As he spoke, he was about to put his hand on Wilson's shoulder.It's a pity that the height difference between the two is [-] centimeters, which is somewhat nondescript.

Although he didn't greet Clint in his words, Clint has followed up spontaneously, and the doctor didn't say anything, just let him go.

What else did the two of them talk about, mainly because Dr. Frandy kept talking.After they opened another door and entered the small room, Adlia's stiff shoulders relaxed a little.She looked around and moved herself slightly.

Ah, there is no surveillance in this day and age.

Adlia touched the gun on her waist, thought about her shooting level, and reassured herself a little.She thought about it, knelt down and patted Ms. Christie's shoulder, calling her name in her ear.

"Christie, Christie, wake up—"

She pressed Christie's eye sockets. Christie frowned, but she didn't wake up. The degree of coma should not be deep.Sighing, Adelia gently half-hugged and half-dragged her to the side, at least there was a place to lean on, and then slightly loosened the binding of her hands and feet, and changed a loose buckle.

After completing a series of actions, she was a little dizzy for a moment when she stood up.She stretched out her hands to prop up the table, and managed not to fall down, and sat down on the chair next to her.

The smell of formalin made her dizzy, as if a big hand squeezed her fragile stomach, and she almost touched that memory she didn't want to mention.

"Boom!" There was a loud knock at the door.

Adelia had goosebumps, stood up abruptly, and subconsciously glanced vigilantly at the door that Sherlock had just entered. The sound insulation of these two doors seemed to be very good, at least Adelia didn't hear anything after they entered. movement.

After hesitating for a moment, Adelia straightened her collar to make herself look messy, then lowered her hat, and walked to the door she just came in.

There is no cat's eye, how can I see the situation outside?

Adelia held the key with her right hand, and lowered her body to make a defensive movement. She faintly felt that her palms began to sweat again. This angle was convenient for her—she noticed that she could look out from the lock cylinder.

It was bright outside now, and some black trouser legs could be seen, as well as the lamp that was being carried.

She tentatively called out to the lock cylinder, "Hopkins?"

There seemed to be a moment of stillness outside.

Then someone came to the door and knocked.

Adelia struggled to recognize it, and seemed to hear him calling Holmes, but she didn't know.

There was cold sweat streaming down her forehead, and Adlia couldn't tell whether it was an enemy or a friend, so she forced herself to calm down and think.

—Light—Light—?

It suddenly occurred to her that it was a bull's-eye lamp with a raised glass shade for Scotland Yard.She took a breath, praying that her choice was correct, holding the gun in her right hand, and carefully opened the door with her left hand—she didn't forget to put her arm slightly against it, in case the enemy outside made it too late for her to close the door.

Fortunately, it was Sergeant Green and Hopkins who entered the door, followed by several people in Scotland Yard uniforms, dark and wearing funny hats.

"Don't shoot, it's me!" She took off her hat, revealing her face.

"Mr. Hudson, what about them?" Sergeant Green nodded slightly.

"Ms. Christie is there," Adlia pointed. "Holmes followed their people into the small room inside."

"My Jesus, what is this place?" Hopkins gasped, apparently because he walked too far ahead, he suddenly met the specimen's eyes.

Sergeant Green was also a little frightened, but he maintained his demeanor.He gave a slight signal, and people from Scotland Yard crept in behind him and took Christie out.The sheriff obviously saw such a scene, but in order to maintain his majesty, or for other purposes, his face was tense, showing an expected look.

"I've got everything under control, fellas," he said, calmly as if about to speak, "and we're going to rescue the eager detective from danger—don't respond, don't startle the snake."

"Sir, lead the way."

He still didn't remember Adelia's name, but Adelia didn't care.She just nodded and beckoned for them to follow.

Arriving in front of the iron door, Adlia hesitated, and stuck to the door trying to hear the movement inside.At this moment, she wished she could take off Holmes' ears and put them on her own head, but she couldn't hear any movement, so she could only step back regretfully.

Sheriff Green couldn't hold back anymore: "Hopkins, knock on the door."

The brave boy carried out the order without hesitation.

The door opened a crack from the inside—

That's enough.

Hopkins and another agent behind him slam the door open, and the agents swarm in—

"Don't move! Put down your weapon!"

After that, things went surprisingly smoothly.

James Clint is actually two people, one is the bright investor Clint, and the other is James the janitor.In short, both of them were easily arrested.Not to mention Dr. Ferlandi and his short assistant, there is little escape.Sergeant Green obviously wanted to use this to make a big contribution, so many detectives came.If it wasn't for the fact that it was late at night and he was skeptical at first, Adelia was almost sure that he wished he could ask the reporter to hold a press conference that night.

Her revolver didn't work and was back in the holster.After the matter was over, she didn't want to tolerate Tom's clothes anymore, living in a corner and still a little cold.Fortunately, Wilson followed and gave her the clothes.

Adlia didn't care what they said again, she just knew it was over.She put on her own clothes and was directed to an empty carriage by the agents, who issued her a blanket.

With cold hands, Adelia did not refuse their offer, and put the blanket on her body.There were noisy voices outside the carriage, she didn't have the strength to discern what they were talking about, and her eyes didn't focus, she just leaned quietly.

Some people lamented Sergeant Green's brilliance, and some said that the enthusiastic detective was willing to contribute. Of course, there were bursts of air-conditioning voices. Even experienced detectives would rarely see such a scene.Organs, corpses, and the bloody test bed in the cabin.

Her eyes briefly stopped at one place outside, and Wilson completely untied Ms. Christie's restraint, and it should be calling her name softly.

Seems like a good ending.

A little tired, but not in a bad mood.

After an unknown amount of time, another person climbed into the carriage and sat beside him.

It was Sherlock with most of the marks wiped off his face.

"How do you feel? My friend."

Despite a few nights of sleep, Sherlock still looked radiant.

Adelia didn't notice that there was a smile on her face, she leaned lazily on the car seat: "That's it."

Sherlock also took off Wilson's clothes and put them in the car: "Well, our mutual friend Wilson may not have time to worry about my clothes now, but fortunately my cigarettes are in my trouser pocket--Hi, Adrian, can you Light me a fire?"

"Didn't you use up the matches in the car?" Adlia frowned.

"You still have a box in your coat pocket." He smiled narrowly.

Adlia fumbled in her pocket, and sure enough, she found Sherlock's matches.Her roommate was smoking a cigarette, and there was a euphoric smile on the corners of her eyes and brows after solving the puzzle.She grunted, too softly for Sherlock to catch.

"What?" He raised his voice slightly.

The match was struck across the matchbox, sparking.

She approached him, slightly shielding the wind outside the carriage with one hand, and lit a cigarette for him.

"I said, I don't like the smell of smoke."

Sherlock took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"I know, but you have to be considerate of me, Adrian, otherwise I'm afraid I won't be able to get home sober."

He took another breath, and with a sigh, the smoke escaped from his lips.He regained some energy and leaned out of the carriage: "Hey! Can someone send the enthusiastic citizens home?"

The author says:

Yesterday's busy mood almost collapsed.In fact, it is very annoying to some bad atmosphere in the workplace.Are you all happy?

But it’s my favorite cigarette lighting session again!

(I really hate smoking and smokers, but Lao Fu is an exception)?