[Comprehensive] Please call me Miss Holmes

It was a muggy, cloudy day, and Circe and her two brothers were sitting at the dining table having breakfast. Mycroft explained that his father was busy pursuing a big case recently, and his mother's research work was also at a critical moment, so recently There may be no way back.Circe understood what he meant, and Mycroft was afraid that she would be unhappy because her parents were not coming back, but she didn't mind at all, because she knew that her family loved her very much, and that was enough.

Sherlock brought a cup of coffee himself, but handed Circe a glass of milk. Circe pouted secretly, but obediently finished the milk.After breakfast, Circe went upstairs to change, a wardrobe full of pink-inspired clothes.She has two wardrobes, the one on the left is dedicated to Hogwarts clothing, uniform black.The one on the right is used to satisfy the family's wish to raise her as a little princess.What she opened at the moment was the closet on the right.If she went out with Sherlock and didn't wear the clothes he bought, Circe could imagine how long-winded he would be along the way.

She picked out a pink dress and put on white stockings. Finally, she opened the shoe cabinet and picked out a pair of pink boots from the dazzling shoe cabinet.When she opened the door and went down the stairs, she saw Sherlock smiling in satisfaction and looking at Mycroft proudly.

Mycroft: Somebody save my stupid brother's IQ! ! ! ! !

Today she is going to accompany Sherlock to see his unlucky classmate Victor.It was Victor who took the "ghost photo".Although Mycroft quickly released Victor on bail, Victor was still deeply traumatized by the incident.

Victor stayed in a private clinic on Brook Street. After the ghost photo incident, he dared not live in the hospital. He always felt that there would be many invisible things in the big hospital.It happened that an uncle from far away, Terry, opened a clinic under the sponsorship of others, so he temporarily lived in his uncle's house and sometimes helped out.

They took a taxi to Brook Street.In particular, the Holmes family is a waste of cars. It’s not that they can’t drive, but: Alina is only interested in numbers. Once she thought of a key point while driving, she even took out a pen and paper to write it down, completely ignoring it. Turn the steering wheel, the consequences can be imagined.Allen is because he drives slowly, a sports car can make him drive like an old car, and his department has a special car to pick up and drop off, so he doesn't need to drive at all.Mycroft once threatened to break the curse that the Holmes family could not drive. Instead of being encouraged, he was ridiculed by the whole family. So he worked hard and became the other extreme. He never slowed down and braked sharply. Also banned from driving.As for Sherlock and Circe, a reasoning fanatic and an old antique, Sherlock is not interested in driving at all, and Circe will not say that she is still young, but when she grows up, will she not use Apparation, Are you going to drive?All in all, the Holmes family has become a car waste. Although there is a car owned by Mycroft in the family, no one has driven it for a long time.

When they arrived at Brook Street, it was already ten o'clock in the morning, and the clinic was busy at this time, and in addition to seeing ordinary patients, Circe also saw some 'people' walking around with the patients, she Try to make yourself invisible.

Victor was helping to coax the children who were about to get an injection. When he saw them coming, he rushed up excitedly and prepared to give his friend Sherlock a warm hug, but he was undoubtedly avoided.

Victor: My heart is blocked...... Friends are gone! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

Victor's uncle, Dr. Terry, is a pale, thin man with a big khaki beard on his face. He is about 33 years old. He looks haggard and lifeless. He wears simple and elegant clothes—a piece A dark black dress, a pair of dark trousers, and a dark tie around the neck.

"I'm very sorry, I'm a little busy right now," Dr. Turley said unexpectedly, making people feel that he was very shy, "I hope you can stay for lunch to make up for my lack of hospitality."

"Are you the author of that "Miraculous Nerve Injury" paper?" Sherlock's eyes lit up a little, and it seemed that the doctor had unexpectedly caught his interest.

Dr. Terry looked very happy to hear this, his pale cheeks even flushed slightly. "The paper was rarely mentioned, and the publisher complained to me that the book was not going to sell. I thought no one had read it? Are you a medical student?"

"Oh! I'm actually majoring in chemistry, but I'm very interested in medicine." Sherlock replied solemnly, and Circe smiled. Rather than saying that Sherlock is interested in medicine, he is more interested in anatomy.It was Victor who had the same expression as Circe, and it seemed that he knew what his friend was like.

The only thing that the four people didn't know was poor Dr. Terry. After hearing Sherlock's answer, he was even more enthusiastic about keeping Sherlock for lunch. Sherlock looked at Circe and saw that she didn't mind, so he agreed. .The doctor who received a satisfactory answer ran to recruit his patients again. Victor led them to avoid the busy clinic and come to the living room upstairs of the clinic.

"I have something strange to tell you," Victor closed the door of the living room, put away his smile, and looked distressed. "Upstairs lived a Mr. Barley. He was the one I mentioned who sponsored the uncle's clinic. It was said that he had a bad heart and often needed treatment, so he lived here for a long time. But a week ago, I remembered Clearly, because that was the day I moved in, Mr Barley was very excited to see my uncle, who mentioned the burglary in the West End and insisted that the doors and windows be re-bolted and bolted every night."

"For the next few days he fidgeted, looked out of the window, and stopped even his usual short walk before lunch. His behavior gave me the impression that he was terribly frightened of something or someone. But when I asked him about it, he became very rude, so I didn't talk about it anymore. As time passed, his fear seemed to disappear gradually, and he returned to normal. But a recent incident has left him in his present pathetic and contemptible state of weakness."

Circe saw Sherlock change his sitting position, from half lying on the sofa to sitting upright and leaning forward, which meant that this matter aroused his interest.

"The thing is this: Two days ago, the clinic received a letter with neither address nor date. The content is roughly this: A Russian nobleman living in England is eager to go to Percy Terry Dr. Turley is a well-known authority on the treatment of which he has suffered from catalepsy for several years. He intends to see the doctor tomorrow night about a quarter past six, if Dr. Turley It's convenient, please wait at home."

"He was a thin old man, very reserved, and his companion was a tall young man, swarthy, but with a ferocious visage, with the limbs and chest of Hercules. They entered At that time, he held an arm of the old man with his hand, helped the old man to the chair, and showed great consideration. Uncle met them in the living room, and he originally wanted them to go downstairs for the physical examination, but this The Russian aristocrat said that it is also possible to check in the living room, so there is no change of place."

"After the inspection, my uncle asked me to go downstairs to the laboratory to get a medicine bottle that he put on the shelf, but when I got downstairs, I didn't find anything in the place he said, and my uncle had to throw it down and sit on the chair. The patient who went to the hospital ran downstairs to get the medicine himself. It took some time to find the medicine, about 5 minutes, and then we came back. But the room was empty, and the patient had disappeared."

"The front door is closed but unlocked. The patient was a young man newly hired. He said he heard nothing."

"Mr. Barley usually went out for a walk at this time, and he didn't do much. He came back from his walk and went upstairs. After a while, I heard him running down the stairs like a man mad with fright." ,"

"'Who's been in my house?' he cried. There was still a tremor in his voice, and my uncle and I accompanied him upstairs, and he showed us some footprints on the light-colored carpet."

"'You say these are my footprints?' he cried. "The footprints were much larger than his, and evidently were made not so long ago.It rained heavily at noon that day, and the only people who came to see the doctor were the father and son. For some purpose, they must have entered Bale's room while my uncle and I were going downstairs.Nothing was moved or taken, but the tracks proved, beyond doubt, that someone had been inside. "

"Mr. Barley seemed very agitated. He sat in an arm-chair and kept shouting. I could hardly get him to speak more clearly. I'm sure there's something in it, and you can tell what happened. Is the miracle explained clearly?"

Sherlock listened intently to this lengthy narrative, and just as he was about to say something, there was a scream from upstairs, and a maid ran down with a terrified expression.

"Oh, what has happened!" she cried, putting her hands to her temples.

"What happened?"

"Mr. Barley committed suicide!"

Sherlock whistled, and Circe tugged at the hem of his coat to keep him from getting too excited.

A group of people went upstairs, as well as the doctor who heard the news.

"I really don't know what to do," said Dr. Turley seldom aloud. "I've called the police, and they're coming right away. I'm terrified."

Upon entering the bedroom door, one was greeted head-on with a terrifying sight.Sherlock blocked Circe reflexively, and he only now remembered that Circe was still following him.Hastily asked the maid to take her down.

As Mr. Barley dangled precariously from his hook, he looked hardly human.His neck was elongated, like the neck of a plucked chicken, and the rest of his body seemed fatter and unnatural in comparison.He was only wearing a long pajamas.Under the pajamas, those ugly feet and swollen ankles stretched out straight.

Circe went back to the living room and finished it. The maid brought her some strawberry biscuits, but she had no appetite at all. Opposite her, sat a man with a crooked neck in pajamas, his face was pale, and his pair of glasses were placed under the table. Unsightly feet and that swollen ankle.

The author has something to say:

Calling for names, Nan Nan is a waste of names, I hope all readers will contribute their names bravely, now we need several werewolves, vampires, wizards, the twelve saints of the church, as well as various criminals, victims, and passers-by who are soy sauce name.

come on!Don't be careless! ! ! !

Sherlock: Stupid Nannan, you spoiled it! ! ! !

Nan Nan: Huh!Huh!Huh!where where?when?I do not know how?