[Sherlock Holmes] The Legend of the Nightingale

(God's perspective)

The detective looked indifferently at Sherringford Holmes sitting in the middle of the room with his head bowed deeply. He stood in the middle of the room like a statue, and stayed quietly for a long time.Sherinford finally woke up from his sorrow, and seemed to realize that it was very unusual for no one to speak after closing the door, so he slowly raised his head.The surprise that had just lit up in his eyes was instantly extinguished when it met Sherlock's emotionless eyes.

"Sherlock..." he said feebly, "...you are willing to go home at last, very well..."

"I didn't come home to come home." Sherlock's voice was soft and soft, but on this occasion it seemed cold and unfeeling.

"Glad to see you," whispered Sherinford, bowing his head again.This tall man, who is nearly fifty years old, is so depressed that he doesn't even want to say a word. Sherlock suddenly remembered the way his brother who was not close to him came back home from school nearly 30 years ago, because of temporary unsatisfactory studies. .Sherry Ford, who inherited his father's burly figure and tough appearance, has the sensitivity and gentleness of his mother. If honesty and duty cannot ensure that things go well, he will be dejected and helpless.That year, Sherlock and his parents returned from a trip to Europe. Sherlock and Sherringford, who had just learned a stunt from Alphonse Spencer's fencing gym, had no common language. They went hunting or chatting with Mycroft all day long.Seeger casually asked Sherinford if he wanted to practice boxing too, and the boss just shook his head like a sheep.

These recollections aroused in Sherlock a modicum of pity, even negativity.He came closer, but looked up slightly at the ceiling.

"I think you don't believe there is any other way." Holmes said without any address.In his bones, he didn't have any feelings for this brother who was nine years older than him and had rarely seen him since he was a child.He called Mycroft with complete confidence, but the name Sherinford only made the situation more awkward.

"Why?" Sherringford paused, "We are all relieved that you took over this matter."

"Oh?"

"In England you're more famous than you think, even in continental Europe and America."

"Even in North Riding?"

Holmes's bland but bitter tone was a little too heavy for Sherringford.

"Sherlock, you are much more eloquent when you write."

"Then you wish me to write from London to settle the case?"

"No, I hope you leave the energy of speaking face-to-face to the person who framed me."

"That's a little tricky, Sherinford. I've never been rude to a woman."

Sherringford looked up in astonishment and stared at Sherlock who couldn't help smiling anymore.The return of Sherlock Holmes' characteristic humor is a good sign.The detective walked up to the boss, dragged the chair across to him and sat down, tore off the scarf and threw it on the back of the chair, subconsciously crossed his fingers and placed them under his chin.

"Are you smoking now?"

"I never smoke, you know," replied Sherinford honestly.

"Then I won't smoke for now." Sherlock said, looking down at his collar with some regret, no doubt he had a cigarette case in his arms.

"You just said it was a woman?"

"Obvious."

Sherinford bowed his head in silence.

"If you are still only worried about Miss Odo's safety, it would be very disappointing."

"Sherlock, you don't understand." The boss made a desperate gesture, "Alicia is a poor girl, and I don't want her to suffer any injustice."

"So you forgot your own situation so quickly?"

"I knew you would think so," said Sherinford desperately. "Alicia and I are innocent. I just want to help. Her parents have died long ago, and no one wants to take her in. She has been in that gloomy place." The tailor's shop is under the fence..."

"Of course I know." Sherlock said flatly.

"No, you don't..."

"It seems that the rumors about me are not true enough in North Riding after all."

Sherinford was silent.

"I know very well that you and Miss Odo have no illicit relationship."

"Thank goodness you still understand me!"

"Not because of this."

Sherinford bowed his head again in despondency, resting his forehead on his hands.

"Time is short. Now tell me about the situation," said Sherlock. "The day you dined with Dale."

"I can't remember anything useful." Sherinford pressed his fingers on his forehead in pain, "Dell's house was still being renovated that day, so we went to the study. Actually, Dale doesn't like eating in the study because he thinks it's not good for books. Fortunately, the piano is not in that room..."

"I still trust your ability to find key points."

"Dell doesn't like red wine," Sherinford said, as if suddenly realizing it. "He usually only drinks white wine. The bottle of wine that was opened that day was to cater to my taste. It is said that it was given by someone else, but he didn't say who it was."

"Is that the bottle the police found at the scene?"

"Yes."

"Unfortunately not," said Sherlock, "that bottle was replaced. But we think it's good news, because we can directly investigate people who bought two bottles of this wine from the same place. Then Dale also drank ?"

"Yes, but he doesn't drink much."

"Do you think he was sane at the time?"

"At least he was fine when I passed out. I vaguely remember him trying to wake me up loudly."

"Are you sure you didn't see anyone in the study other than Dale before you lost consciousness? Neither men nor women, including Miss Otto, ever came upstairs?"

"No, I promise. I don't have to defend anyone if they—are really suspected. Although I still can't believe it, Alicia has a share here."

"The little kitten you thought was actually a cat." Holmes said to himself.

"What do you mean, Sherlock?"

"You don't quite believe me, do you, Sheringford?"

"No, I trust you one hundred percent. You are the last hope."

"Only the last sentence is true." Sherlock straightened his scarf, put it on again, and tied a simple knot.It was a sign that he was about to go out. "If you knew me well enough, you wouldn't wait without a word until I asked the police to see you. You were desperate when I walked into this room."

"Sherlock, you should understand..."

"One little thing to clear up. I'm afraid you'll still have some troubles to deal with when the dust has settled. Mrs. Holmes—Mrs. Sherringford Holmes—had inevitably suffered quite a few blows."

"Poor Jessie," said the eldest, shaking his head, "she's trying to keep the children from knowing that they go to school in Edinburgh, but it's impossible. I can't be formally arrested yet, but everything is strictly restricted. Now all Yorkshire knows the anecdote."

"Although I don't deny your original intention, you should understand that even before the murder, your innocuous relief was enough to make Jesse misunderstand and feel sad, and you never gave a convincing explanation."

"She doesn't want to believe it at all. This is her business."

"It's up to you to explain to her."

"You don't intend to have a family yourself, Sherlock," said the eldest, tapping his temple. "If you have a woman, you know the difficulty of communicating with them."

"I know."

Sherlock would have added a few words in the past, but we all know that since Irene Adler, Holmes has never maliciously ridiculed a woman's IQ.

"A jest, of course." Holmes stood up. "But we have no time to talk about that now. When the truth comes to light, Sheringford, you will have plenty of time to clear your mind."

"Well, Sherlock," sighed Sherringford, "I don't think I can be of much help."

"That's not surprising. But don't feel bad, you're still far more useful than I am in most matters that are not a matter of life and death, at least the Holmes family always thinks so."

"I suspect you have been pretending to be indifferent," Sherringford stood up, a scowl on his broad, troubled face. Seeger himself, "Get used to being mean to us because you're the old man's favorite kid?"

Sherlock, who was about to go out, turned around a little funny.

"You think it's okay to tease me in such a base way, Sherinford?"

"This is not a joke," the boss said in a low voice, "you know it very well."

Holmes slammed the door heavily, as if to put the disturbing memory behind him.

Since a serious illness in his youth, Sherlock's morbid pallor has not faded until college.From the beginning, old Sig was not as worried about his youngest son as Violet was, because he himself was weak and sick when he was young. Captain Sig Holmes is as strong as a tiger.Like any demanding father, he took it for granted that Sherlock's ability to match his naturally strong older brothers with a lot of physical training was no problem.In fact, Sherlock's appearance is not the most similar to his father. Among the three brothers, he is the only one who has inherited his mother's handsome appearance.Compared with the bulk of his two older brothers, he looked thin and tall, which Seager often unconsciously took as a sign of weakness.When he took Sherlock, who was recovering from a serious illness, to the boxing ring for the first time, he even thought that if the kid shed tears when he was knocked down, or refused to continue training, he would teach him how to be indomitable.Only people who take hardship very lightly will do this.But to his surprise, the youngest son was tough beyond imagination.Even when he was tentatively asking if he needed a break, Sherlock would get up from the ground, take off his gloves, and make a "continue" gesture with a cold expression.As Sherlock's level improved rapidly, the old Holmes found that the boy only burst out with a strange spirit, even a gloomy excitement, when he met an equal opponent or was knocked down.Once the opponent was a well-known local boxer, and the strike was too heavy. Sherlock tried to get up from the ground three times and was discouraged.Old Sherlock Holmes thought it was over, but Sherlock, who was kneeling on the ground, raised his head and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with his glove, very much like the young Violet who was wiping a little red wine on his lips with a napkin at the table, and at the same time An obvious smile was hidden.Seriously, that scene was a bit of a shock to Seager.In the end, Sherlock won that match with difficulty. When shaking hands with his opponent, he said a few precocious and humble words gently, but he couldn't hide the eagle-like arrogance in his eyes.

Sherinford never took part in any form of armed competition, and Mycroft was too lazy to compete, except when he wanted to run on the third.As for Sherlock, he has taken the hardest elements of the Holmes name and refined it to a degree unimaginable to Seager himself.

A father may not necessarily like the son who is most similar to himself, but he must value this one most.Holmes put on his top hat at the door, straightened the brim of his hat, raised a pair of gray eyes and looked indifferently at the streets of North Riding.

The author has something to say: a little note, kitten can be used as a nickname for women, but cat is very malicious.There is a famous translation example that translates Sheisacat into "she is a woman with evil intentions".

Thinking about the end of this case, there is still a round of reasoning left before the end, the author is a bit bloody...