[Comprehensive Classics] Detective Mary

Mary agreed to Sir Blackwood's invitation.

Her letter brought Blackwood to visit again in person, and Sir looked very happy, and he promised repeatedly that he would send a carriage to Serpentine Street to meet her on the first of next month.

The place where the literary salon is held is at the Jazz House.

Before leaving for the day, Mary hid a knife and a fire pocket under her skirt—though carrying a weapon would be of no practical use if Blackwood or another member of the Illuminati attacked her, at least it would Give Mary some confidence.

Seeing her behavior, Irene was silent for a moment, then took out a pistol and holster from the box at home and gave it to her.

Mary was taken aback, but Ms. Irene Adler, who has always been gentle and elegant, still smiled tolerantly: "Why, do you think I will stand beside James Moriarty unprepared?"

She taught Mary how to tie the holster on her thigh, and she sent Mary out after everything was ready.

"Be vigilant," Irene told Mary, holding Mary's hand. "Then it's up to you to deal with everything, Mary."

"I know."

Mary nodded solemnly.

Regardless of what Blackwood does next, his demeanor remains impeccable to the outside world.

Blackwood, who has a knighthood, a wealthy family, and good taste, did hold a literary salon at home. Many of the invited guests were PhDs in literature from Oxford and Cambridge, and even magazine serial authors like Mary I have heard of it for a long time.

"Miss Mary."

Blackwood personally went out to welcome Mary, and he politely reached out to help her get out of the car. Before entering the door, he did not forget to emphasize what he had said before: "In the salon, you are a literature lover invited by me. I have no other identity, lady I respect. Is there anyone you would like to meet?"

Well, take one step at a time, if you are too nervous, you will be noticed instead.

Besides... Mary did have someone she wanted to meet.

"Is Mr. Bill Maine here?" asked Mary.

Blackwood laughed out loud.

"Let's talk about it first," Jazz cleared his throat, suppressed a smile and said solemnly, "When you see Bill Mayne himself, you must hold back your anger."

——Mary can say the name of this gentleman without thinking, which is enough to prove how impressed she is.This Bill Mayne is the literary critic who has been holding on to Philip Luther since the publication of "Serial Killer Chess Game", writing reviews and criticizing him.

Mary came up and said that she wanted to see him, and she seemed too ready to roll up her sleeves, no wonder Sir Blackwood gave a warning.

"I won't be angry," Mary also raised the corners of her mouth. "If I was the person who would be angered by others' attacks, then Philip Luther would not treat all feedback and letters with indifference."

Hearing her assurance, Blackwood confidently led Mary to Bill Mayne.

Mary had read every one of his comments carefully.Editor-in-Chief Hall had introduced him to Mary. Like all the literary celebrities present, Bill Mayne also graduated from Cambridge, so his writing and diction are naturally beyond reproach.He criticizes Philip Luther relentlessly, and has to admit that although Mary finds his comments harsh and contemptuous of the author, he hits the point every time.

After the serialization of the first issue of "Serial Killer Chess Game", he wrote to the editor-in-chief of Hall, scolding Philip Luther for grandstanding, even making a big fuss about the devil's mental journey; Barnum is also the one who scolds the loudest for his behavior as the archetypal character.

The evaluations are all negative, but the critics have captured Mary's creative ideas with great precision.

This also made Mary very curious about what kind of person Bill Mayne was.

And he himself looked about the same as Mary had imagined—about 40 years old, well-dressed, arrogant and aloof.

"Mr. Mayne?" Blackwood asked.

"Ah, sir," Bill Mayne showed an eager smile, "thank you for inviting me to the salon today. Everyone here is a person with some real talents. You agree with them, and you agree with me. This is mine. pleasure."

"you are welcome."

Blackwood nodded, and then introduced to Mr. Mayne: "This is Miss Mary Bennet. She loves literature and is a lady with insights."

"Bennet."

Mr. Mayne repeated Mary's surname, a little confused: "I haven't heard of any noble lady named Bennet."

Blackwood: "Not necessarily only noble ladies are interested in literature, Mr. Mayne. Miss Mary is from the south, but her intelligence is extraordinary, comparable to that of noble ladies in London."

Yet even as Blackwood maintains high praise for Mary Bennet, Mary still senses a subtle change in Bill Mayne.

He still had that cold and arrogant look on his face, and said politely: "As a woman, it's really rare to be so enlightened. Do you have any favorite plays, miss?"

"I like Shakespeare," Mary replied.

"Of course," Mr. Mayne laughed, "No one doesn't like Shakespeare. When you come to London, you should go and see a real Shakespeare play."

Then Mr. Mayne asked Mary a few extremely simple questions, as if he was afraid that Mary would not be able to answer them if they were more difficult and would cause embarrassment.

His attitude made Mary quickly lose her desire to communicate.

To be reasonable, Mary is not afraid of being underestimated by others, so she should at least have a conversation and give her a chance to prove herself.And the literary critic directly defines Mary as a girl who has never seen the world, and does not intend to communicate with her at all.

It seems that Bill Mayne not only looked down on serial authors like Philip Luther, but also looked down on Mary who did not have a noble title and her status as the daughter of a squire.

But this is normal, and Mary will not be discouraged by others' slights.

However, since he looks down on "low-level" people so much, why does Mr. Bill Mayne hold on to Luther's serialization?If you are so arrogant, claiming that Oxbridge literature is the real literature, the serials in the "Seashore Magazine" are naturally not worthy of a critic writing an article.

However, Bill Mayne looked down on Luther, but at the literary salon, Philip Luther's name still appeared occasionally a few times.

Mary listened silently to the feedback from the other gentlemen, and found that Luther's reputation was better than she thought.

Those who don't like Philip Luther hold views much the same as Bill Mayne's.Either think that the suspense mystery novel has no artistic value, or think that it is based on pt Barnum as the prototype-the point is that Barnum himself responded with great fanfare, which is really not on the stage.

Those who like Philip Luther think that although the artistic value is not high, the practical significance is strong.Luther's narrative style is the narrative style and aesthetic orientation of common people. Common people like murder cases and circuses, which still have a certain meaning.

But these are just two or three chats in the salon, and the reactions of more scholars and critics are more real—I probably heard about such a person from Mr. Bill Mayne. As for who and what he wrote, Not caring at all.

Instead, Mary quietly breathed a sigh of relief.

Now that Philip Luther is serializing his second short story, it's okay if there are no real writers paying attention for the time being.Give her some time to grow up. Sherlock Holmes, who criticized the loopholes in the "Serial Killer Game" severely criticized the case loopholes, but he applauded the less rigorous "King of Carnival" for relaxing the conditions.Among them, the progress of Mary's conception and the clever choice to maximize her strengths and avoid her weaknesses are important reasons.

She hopes that when more people notice Philip Luther because of Barnum's fanfare, she can come up with truly commendable works—even if it is only commendable as popular literature.

Other than that, there was nothing Mary wanted to care about in this literary salon.

Compared with the gentlemen who didn't take Mary seriously because of her gender, the female companions brought by the gentlemen were kind to Mary.Although her status was not high, at the banquet before Sir Blackwood, all the ladies present did not forget that Mrs. Hindley had a good eye for several Miss Bennet.

Not to mention that Miss Mary is a single girl that Sir Blackwood favors and approves of, but just to mention the "little hobby" of designing clothes for the youngest daughter of the Bennet family, Lydia, which amazed the audience at the banquet.What's wrong with having a good relationship with Lydia's sister?

So it didn't take long for Mary to be surrounded by exceptionally enthusiastic female companions.

In the face of their gossip and chat, Mary was the first and the second older—to be honest, she admired Lydia from the bottom of her heart for being able to remain calm under the greetings of a bunch of wives.Before crossing, Mary was often dizzy by the seven aunts and eight aunts, but now, at different times, in different places and in different languages, the chat content of the ladies is almost the same.

Either asking Mary "Which one should Sir Blackwood or Mr. Holmes choose", or asking "Is it true that Sir Blackwood invited Ms. Irene Adler to sing privately", or started to ask about Mary's country life How, there is no vacant land near Meryton, preferably adjacent to the Netherfield estate of the Bingleys, and so on.

God, she even suspected that Blackwood was planning to use these ladies to read Mary until she was dizzy, which was more legal and easier than just shooting her!

Just when Mary was about to be overwhelmed, a certain lady who had been staying beside Mary suddenly held her forehead.

"What's the matter with you, ma'am?" Mary asked immediately, interrupting the gossip that still hadn't stopped.

"It's nothing." The old lady forced a smile at Mary, "I'm just a little dizzy."

"How does this work!"

Mary finally seized the opportunity to end the topic, and she hurriedly stood up: "I will inform Sir Blackwood to ask for a doctor."

"No need," the old lady waved her hand, "it's an old problem, I'll just sit quietly for a while and it will be fine."

"The living room is not suitable for meditation," Mary insisted, "Please ask the housekeeper to take you to the guest bedroom to rest, madam."

Since the old lady didn't want to bother the Sir himself, Mary got the butler.Under the leadership of the housekeeper, Mary helped the old lady out of the living room.

"The guest room is here, ma'am," the butler said dutifully, "I'll send a maid to accompany you later, if you—madam!"

Before the housekeeper finished speaking, the old lady's feet went limp, and she was about to fall down.

If Mary hadn't reacted in time and put her shoulders against the old lady's body, she would have fallen heavily to the ground.Now there was no chance to go to the guest room, so Mary and the housekeeper hurriedly carried the old lady to a nearby room and put her on the sofa.

"Madam? Madam!"

The housekeeper panicked: "I'll call for a doctor right away."

Mary: "Wait, please bring a glass of sugar water first!"

The old lady's lips were pale, her body was trembling, and her forehead was covered with cold sweat. In addition, she just said that it was an old problem, and it was probably hypoglycemia.Mary adopted the oldest and most ancient method—stripping people, using painful stimulation to wake up the old lady from a coma.Then he took the sugar water brought by the housekeeper and fed it to the old lady bit by bit.

Not long after, the old lady's complexion gradually improved.

"You rest here for a while," Mary heard the voice, "Have a good rest, please ask the housekeeper to take you to the guest room."

"Let's just stay here." The butler suggested, he didn't dare to move the old lady casually.

Mary looked around the room upon hearing this.

This is Sir Blackwood's study, there is a sofa, yes, but it's not a place to rest.Perhaps seeing Mary's concern, the butler hastily explained: "It's okay, Sir is not working in the study on weekdays, and there is nothing inappropriate here except for his collection of books."

That's good.

Seeing those tall bookshelves and all kinds of books, and thinking about the ladies who can't gossip in the salon... Mary said to the butler without thinking: "Then let me stay here with the old lady, anyway, I don't like it." Socialize with people."

Hearing this, the old butler showed a grateful expression.

If he really sends a maid to accompany the old lady, the housekeeper is afraid that the young girl will be clumsy and cause trouble again.And Miss Mary is Sir Blackwood's favorite lady, and she is smart and decent, so nothing can go wrong.

So the housekeeper didn't hesitate much, and agreed directly: "I can't thank you enough, Miss Mary."

After the butler left, Mary accompanied the old lady and said a few words.It can be seen that her face has returned to normal rosiness, but the old lady still seems a little tired.Mary couldn't help asking a few more questions, only to find out that she had just returned from abroad with her husband this morning.

The old lady should be in her 50s. She already suffered from hypoglycemia and went on a long journey, so it's no wonder she didn't faint.

Mary accompanied the old lady until she fell into a deep sleep, then she breathed a sigh of relief and stood up from the sofa.

As lively as the salon in the reception room is, the study room is as quiet as it is.

Sir Blackwood has quite a collection of books, and his study only has a sofa and a set of desks and chairs—as the housekeeper said, it has hardly been used.Other spaces are filled with bookshelves.

You know, a rich jazz is more than just a London property.Victorian books weren't cheap, and with London properties alone containing so many books, it's no wonder he's earned such high acclaim among high society.

Also, Blackwood has good taste in books.

Mary glanced roughly at his bookshelf, feeling almost pity in her heart.Some people collect books to decorate their study rooms, while others collect books because they truly recognize the value of knowledge.What kind of person the owner of the study is, you can tell by looking at the books he bought, and Blackwood is obviously the latter.

He is indeed a thoughtful gentleman, if not for this, he would not have founded any Illuminati to pursue the stability of human beings in the universe—and so on.

Her thoughts stopped abruptly.

Mary stared closely at the small sculpture on the bookshelf in front of her, and couldn't help frowning.

A large triangular frame is painted in the center of the altar in the basement of Whitechapel Parish, and the same pattern is painted on the mouth of the sewer outside Blackwood House.Mary has always wanted to ask, where did the eyes go?

And placed in front of her was a "creature"... I don't know if it should be called eyes or worms.

This sculpture reminded Mary of the altar of countless reptiles described in Henry Deckard's notebook. She shivered subconsciously, and reached out to pick up the sculpture, but found that she couldn't lift it.

The sculpture is cast on top of the bookshelf.

Mary understood immediately. She let go of the base of the sculpture, touched the indescribable "creature" image, and then turned it suddenly while holding the back. With a "click", she withdrew her hand, and the bookshelf, together with the wall behind, flipped over.

A cold wind blows up from the dark secret staircase.

really.

It was such a coincidence to find the secret passage, Mary sighed in her heart.

The study is on the second floor, and the rooms on the first floor do not open directly to the outside.The cold wind that blows up is mixed with a lot of water vapor, and the members of the Illuminati previously revealed that Blackwood also built an "altar" in the basement of his home... Mary thinks that this dark staircase is likely to lead underground .

So, can't you go down?

Mary hesitated for a moment.

Go on, it's too risky—if Blackwood comes over to check on the old lady's situation, she will completely expose her behavior.Besides, what if there is something strange down there?The choice to go downstairs rashly is no different from the protagonist in a 21st century horror film who closes his eyes and tries to die.

But if she didn't go down, it meant that Mary gave up this clue helplessly.

Tonight is the first day of the month, and the day after tomorrow will be the "last" meeting of the Illuminati.Neither Mary nor Mr. Holmes will have the opportunity to enter Sir Blackwood's study and open this secret staircase.

and so……

Sherlock Holmes' voice echoed in Mary's ears.

He said that he would support himself, and he promised to cooperate with himself internally and externally.Mary curled her lips.

She believed the detective could do it.

Mary took a deep breath, took out the torch tied around her thigh, and started the first step.

The further down you go, the more humid the air becomes.Mary’s footsteps stepping on the wooden stairs made a “creaking” memory. In the dark environment, except for the sound of footsteps and the sound of wood being pressed, the only light source was the fire in Mary’s hand. Flickering, projecting Mary's petite figure onto the wall, stretching and deforming infinitely.

Now, Mary probably understands why when Holmes returned from the altar of the underground sewer for the first time, he had to confirm again and again that she did not believe in ghosts and gods before agreeing to her continued pursuit of clues.

After going down the stairs, there is a hall.

With the help of the dim firelight, the first thing Mary saw was the huge triangular frame totem on the ground, and she thought that this should be the altar under the Blackwood Mansion.

Mary picked up the hem of her skirt, trotted a few steps to the totem, and was disappointed to find that there were no eyes here either.

The totem of the Illuminati is a triangular frame with an eye inside. No matter how you look at it, the eye should be the focus of the totem.And now... where did the eyes go?

She lowered her head to study the frame drawn on the ground, and walked around the huge pattern, but she didn't see any clues.

The floor was a little damp, but it was clean, and the entire hall was empty. Apart from the sound of Mary's footsteps and breathing, there was only the sound of water flowing through the underground sewer... that was not the sound of water.

Mary reacted suddenly.

A drop of clear liquid fell from the ceiling to the side of her face, and Mary subconsciously touched it. She was startled by the viscous and transparent touch, and raised her head——

Crawlers, crawlers everywhere.

The white worms crawled over silently at some point, spreading all over the ceiling and walls, huddled together, covering the original color of the walls, and the mucus hung from the ceiling like drops of water and fell from time to time.

Such a scene made Mary suddenly hold her breath, she took half a step back, the sound of footsteps echoed in the empty hall, and the worms suddenly stopped.

A faint crackling sound came from a dark corner that the Huozhezi could not reflect. There was a "poof" like a flame igniting a chemical substance, and more crackling sounds came out successively.

It's those bugs.

The worm's body burst out, and the sticky shell fell to the ground and hit Mary's feet. She was so disgusted that she couldn't help but backed away. It wasn't until she exited the center of the hall and her feet left the triangular frame that Mary saw the worm clearly. The change.

The body fell to the ground, leaving spherical bodies on the wall.

The next moment, countless spheres opened their eyes.

The picture in Henry Deck's illusion was almost completely presented in front of Mary.

Eyes, countless eyes, are everywhere, just hanging on the ceiling and walls of the hall, constantly dripping transparent liquid.Those eyes turned to Mary as if in response, and all eyes from all directions were staring at her.

Her scalp was numb from these eyes staring at her, and she felt that all the blood in her limbs was flowing back to her heart.Mary held on to the fire pocket tightly, with only one thought in her mind——

Run away!

However, just before she acted, Blackwood's voice sounded slowly from the entrance of the hall.

"You always surprise me, Miss Mary Bennet."

Mary turned her head. Under the dim light, most of Sir Blackwood's face and body were hidden in the darkness, making it difficult to see clearly.

There was still a polite smile in his voice.

"Alone, dare to go deep into the altar where there is no light."

Jazz took a step.His tall body stepped over countless dead worm corpses.

"But that's good too, it saves me the trouble of bringing you here, doesn't it?"