[Comprehensive] Sherlock's Secret

Lestrade asked: "Is it closed early?"

"No—no, the monitoring of the entire hospital is integrated. Turning off the monitoring of a large public place will definitely attract the attention of the security personnel or activate the emergency plan. It will be difficult to restore order in a short time, but as far as the current It's definitely not the case..."

Sherlock stepped back to the door, so he had a panoramic view of the entire laboratory.

The table and the instruments on the test bench are all crumbling here and there, the chair he often sits on has been broken into several pieces, and the folders of the laboratory reports and some doctor's books are scattered into pieces. There were scraps of paper and broken pages, and blood-stained sterile gowns were rolled up and thrown in a corner.

Almost all the glass vessels were shattered on the ground, covered with a layer of crystal clear, like a transparent jungle of thorns, or blooming sharp and sharp flowers.

And on the glass slag in the center of the ground, there was still a puddle of sticky scarlet blood.

Chaotic dazzling, ferocious mess.

"That--"

Sherlock nimbly jumped to the door. There was an electrical distribution box at the place connected to the sterile vacuum chamber. He skillfully opened the door of the box, and touched it for a while with his gloved hand. I took a small pen.

He said casually: "Now Dr. Lance's laboratory has become the scene of the crime, so we have to find another place where we can conduct tests."

Lestrade frowned and said, "I still need tests. Are you sure what you need is a laboratory and not a computer?"

"The bloodstain under your feet will never allow a computer to test it." Sherlock said sarcastically.

Lestrade: "..."

They ended up back in Scotland Yard, where the forensics department was not as good as Dr. Lance's research laboratory, but it was still possible to test a little blood sample.

"Did you find anything just now?" The inspector paced back and forth anxiously, after all, according to the current situation, Dr. Lance was probably in danger.

There is a laptop in front of Sherlock, his slender and dexterous fingers tapped dazzling shadows on the keyboard, the white data streams on the computer desktop and the flashing images switch to each other, he said slowly : "...If the blood test results come out, it can basically be concluded—"

As he spoke, he suddenly stopped the movement of his fingers, and the picture on the computer screen finally stopped on the scene of the laboratory.

"It's that monitoring independent backup you were talking about—how did you know that?"

"I saw it the first time I went there," Sherlock adjusted the surveillance screen, and said casually, "Not only I know, but our criminal suspect also knows...he is either very familiar with the laboratory, or very smart—"

"Aha," he murmured with a small exclamation, "What a great opportunity—it's a pity that Su isn't here."

Sergeant Donovan came in at this time and stood on the other side of the table. She pushed a folder in front of Sherlock: "The blood test results you want."

Sherlock immediately put the computer aside, took the folder and opened it, and read all the identification results in just one minute. He threw the folder back on the table, and said with a sneer, "I thought he would at least be very special." Go your own way..."

Lestrade picked up the folder strangely and looked at it. Sherlock had already put on his gloves, glanced at the bewildered people present, and said in a dignified way: "The blood was deliberately spilled on the ground after being refrigerated. Although the laboratory is in a mess, it was not caused by fighting or struggling. Otherwise, it would be impossible to only have bloodstains on the ground in the center, and the doors and windows are intact. , an old acquaintance of Dr. Lance's, who volunteered to go with him—"

"Couldn't it be that the doctor was taken hostage by being stunned or something?"

"Think about what detective you saw at the scene just now," Sherlock said impatiently, and the speed of his speech became surprisingly fast again, so fast that it even made people breathless, "The door of the sterile room It is open, and the instruments inside are still powered on, indicating that Edmond (the name of Dr. Lance) was working there before the accident, unless he opened the door by himself or an outsider broke the door lock to enter, that room It is impossible for any dirty things to get in the completely sealed room—as well as the sterile suit at the door. If he was taken away by force, the criminals would take off his clothes and put them at the door? The surveillance tape is backed up at That time period is also missing, this person must be a computer programmer..."

As he said this, he suddenly thought of another possibility—appearing in a closed space out of thin air, or taking someone away without anyone noticing... If before, this possibility of breaking through the natural routine Sexual thoughts will never appear in his thinking, but since his girlfriend is a supernatural existence who turned a clothes rack into a Christmas tree after a disagreement, and he just witnessed two special people not long ago—— The wizards - Sirius Black and Remus Lupine - vanished right in front of him...

So the reasoning he made above suddenly seemed a little pale.

Sherlock frowned unconsciously.

Lestrade asked, "What's the matter?"

"It's nothing," Sherlock agreed indifferently, "It's best to check Edmond's communication records or whereabouts in recent days, maybe he will find something..."

He said and went out.

It was late at night, past midnight, dawn was approaching.

The morning star shines brightly above the eastern sky, and the remaining crescent moon is hooked, lurking among the clouds and ripples.

The idea of ​​a person with special ability to commit a crime lingered in Sherlock's mind, so he simply stopped and stood under the bus stop on the side of the road to call Su Fu.

The result, of course, disappointed him - he couldn't get through.

Christmas was over and she was presumably back at school.

His footsteps slowed down, the street was cold and windy, and his shoes made a slight "cracking" sound when they stepped on the snow on the side of the road, as if the sound of collision of thoughts could be heard in the silence of the night.

Sherlock returned to Butts Hospital unknowingly.

The detectives had already withdrawn, and only two security guards were patrolling the door of the laboratory. They had seen him during the day, so they let him in after a few polite greetings.

It remains as it is here, and it is estimated that no one will touch this laboratory before Dr. Lance comes back, because he is the honorary director of the hospital and has made a lot of contributions to the hospital, so the hospital suddenly treats him Missing things are also very anxious.

The intruder took away Dr. Lance, but took great pains to create such a scene that he could see through at a glance, and asked him to check by name——

"What do you think he wants to do?"

It was only after he said the usual words that he remembered, that person didn't come with him at all.

He frowned indistinctly, once a habit like this was formed, it would be really scary.

The security guard at the door poked his head in and looked around, seeing that he hadn't moved, he went out again.

Sherlock walked along the bottom of the wall where there was no glass slag—these glass vessels were all smashed and smashed, and they were only a little bit stronger than ashes. Broken like this.

He checked all the corners that might leave traces again.

When he finally came to a pile of books and documents contaminated by reagents, he suddenly stopped. He raised his head, and the corner of the wall was still some distance away from the test bench and the test tube shelf. It is so far away, and judging from the shape of the droplets on the books, the liquid should flow down from directly above—the most likely reason is that someone deliberately dumped the reagent on the pile of books.

The books have become blurred after being dipped in various chemical reagents, and there are some glass shards inside. People will treat them as useless garbage wherever they are placed.

Sherlock bent down and opened several books soaked in blue liquid, picked them for a while, and pulled out a piece of limp paper that could hardly read the writing on it.

He recognized it for a long time, but he could only make out the words "Christmas" vaguely written on it. Except for the year of inscription, which was still clear, the rest were all vague.

—Seven years ago.

But this is not Dr. Lance's handwriting.

He rummaged for a while, and after making sure that there would be no clues he wanted in those advanced professional books on biochemistry, he got up and left.

When we walked downstairs to the hospital, the sky had begun to brighten, but the clouds in the east were gradually thickening, and it seemed to be snowing again.

He took out his phone and glanced at it.

According to the usual habits, if Su went to school separately from him, he would definitely send him a text message after arriving at school, but there was no such thing today?

I can't get through the phone, I guess I forgot.

He snorted against the cold wind - her memory has never been better.

There would be no taxis on the street at this point, Sherlock walked a certain distance, and suddenly remembered another person, and he immediately made a phone call across the ocean.

"Jasmine?" His deep and clear voice was the only one on the quiet street, "I hope I didn't disturb your rest—"

"No—no, it's fine," Jasmine looked a little surprised, "Sherlock, why did you remember to call me...Is there something wrong? Or Su—"

"No, it has nothing to do with her," Sherlock said, "I just want to ask some questions about Dr. Lance."

"Doctor... what happened to him?"

Sherlock was silent for a moment, and then said: "It's nothing, it's just that a recent case seems to be related to him-don't worry, it's nothing-I can't ask him in person, so I can only trouble you."

"Oh, just ask, I will tell you if I know."

"What was Dr. Edmund Lance's situation seven years ago?"

"This..." Jasmine recalled, "I don't know too well, I only started working as the doctor's experimental assistant two years ago—sorry."

"It's okay, you rest."

"Sherlock!" Jasmine suddenly stopped him again, hesitated for a few seconds, and said in deliberation, "I heard from an old doctor before that the doctor disappeared for several years before he went to Bartz Hospital... After returning, follow his instructions. Ability, he can go to work in a better research institute, but he chose to stay in a hospital."

"Okay, I'll keep an eye on that."

"Then...bye."

"Goodbye."

The author has something to say: ooc small theater:

Sherlock (Tsundere): I am not at all unaccustomed to the absence of someone (strike out).

Su (manual goodbye + honey smile): A boyfriend like you is going to be fired in our day, don't you know?

Qishu (far eye): There is a strange light in the eyes of Sherlock Squid Holmes...

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.