[Sherlock Holmes] The Legend of the Nightingale

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(God's perspective)

"What did you say? He went to Graham's?"

Anne Walter's screams interrupt Cindy Green's retelling.Margo Bryant pushed her, signaling not to make too much noise and attract the attention of outsiders.Annie restrained herself a little, and turned to approach Cindy. The young woman was frightened by her hideous and thin face and backed away, trembling.

"And it's this morning?! You just came back to report now? Did you eat the wrong loony?"

"I didn't know the matter was so serious..." Cindy Green said in a weak voice, "Investigate Neil Graham... It's not a matter of time... What does it have to do with us..."

"But I went to his house and searched for his things!"

"I don't know if they searched!"

"Why don't you come back right away?" Annie suddenly grabbed Cindy by the collar, and the girl screamed.

"I didn't know you needed to know this..."

"Didn't I say that the police will tell us everything they do?"

"I dare not come back right away, I, I was seen..."

The seamstress slapped Cindy hard across the face with her bony hand, causing her to reel.The girl's sobs, which she tried her best to suppress, were still evident in the quiet room.Margara took Anne's arm and pushed her away, giving her a reproachful look.The seamstress drew back indignantly, and looked at them with evil eyes.

"Where is Alicia?" Margo asked in a relatively calm tone.

"I don't know." Cindy answered vaguely.

"She went with you."

"She was scared when she saw so many people there, and she had to leave. I couldn't make sense to her, so she ran away by herself. I couldn't leave my affairs here to chase her."

Margo was silent for a while.

"What now?" said Anne viciously.

"They can't get Graham."

"The devil knows what they found! How can this kind of thing be reassuring? Neil Graham will tell everything if he is afraid! I said long ago that I shouldn't promise him, and he will be the first to confess us!"

"Is it useful to say this now? Didn't you agree when you heard that money can be divided?"

"You better pack up your junk and run, you can't get any money at all, you can only collect garbage!"

"I'll say it again, Anne, those are all important props in the ceremony."

"Including the ones you got from poisoning people?"

Margo thumped the table hard.

"He's a coward, idiot! Margot, Neil Graham is a coward who can't even move a knife!"

Despite her emotions, Annie realized she had made a mistake.The two women stared at each other.

"What does Mr. Graham have to do with this?" Cindy asked pitifully, "What does it have to do with us? You didn't tell me that there would be murder..."

"It's nothing, Cindy," snapped Marg, but a little unsteady herself sat down at the table.

"I'm leaving North Riding," Cindy said, crying. "I don't want to be here for a minute. I don't know anything, and they can't question me. I can't stay any longer."

"Listen, little one," said Margot, without looking at her, but gritted her teeth, "they won't believe you have nothing to do with this. They just saw you snooping on the police just today, and that's suspicious enough. If you run away, we will report on you, saying that you have something to hide from us."

"I wasn't in Yorkshire when it happened!" Cindy screamed. "You sent me to see what the police were doing!"

"They only saw you alone. Who can say whether someone else asked you to go or you went by yourself?"

Cindy Green was stunned for a while, and turned her head to cry. She clutched the small medieval spell book tightly in her hand, and the cover was crumpled, making a small and piercing sound.Anne leaned feebly against the wall.Margo tapped the table with her knuckles.

"Don't cry, it's useless to do anything now, we can only wait for them to find out a way from Graham. If there is really nothing to do, you can draw symbols yourself, stop arguing!"

This sentence worked inexplicably.Cindy Green stopped sobbing, smoothed her book carefully, walked to the table, picked up the rough quill she made herself, turned out a page with more blank parts, dipped it in ink, and laboriously He scribbled crooked strokes on the paper.Margo glanced up.She herself is not literate, let alone know runes, staring at the "wyrd" that Cindy finally finished writing in a daze.

"What is this painting?"

Cindy read it in Old English.

"Can't understand."

"Didn't expect you to understand," said pale Cindy Green. "It's 'fate.'"

Then they heard a heavy knock at the door and a stern cry:

"Is Mrs. Bryant home? This is Detective Jones."

The eyes of Anne Walter, who was leaning against the wall, seemed to burst into flames.Marge Bryant stood up staggeringly. She was tall, and she seemed to fall to the ground at any moment when she walked to the door, but she still opened the door.Standing outside the door were Detective Jones with two police officers, and Holmes with an indifferent face.

"Good afternoon, ma'am, I am Detective Jones," said the detective, "and this is Mr. Sherlock Holmes, a well-known consulting detective in London. We are now—"

He looked a bit embarrassed and couldn't go on.Holmes sighed openly beside him.

"Mrs. Bryant, we want to arrest you for participating in the murder of Edgar Dale. Mrs. Anne Walter and Miss Cindy Green, please come with us too."

"Now you can tell us the whole story, Mr. Holmes," said Jones. "Of course I already know it. It's very interesting, yes, very interesting. But the other constables and the two Mr. Holmes must also want to know the matter." As for Miss Cindy Green, it has now been proved that she was not in Yorkshire at the time and had no connection with the case."

Jones made a "please" gesture.Holmes smiled, and nodded to Sherryford and Seager.The old gentleman pretended to be indifferent, and the boss responded with a grateful look.

"I would like to begin with the three main clues." Holmes put the paper on the table, pushed it lightly towards Sherryford, and passed it around among the gentlemen.

"Excuse me for not disclosing my source just yet. As I said, the first word 'living room' refers to Alicia who is in the living room. She opened the door to the murderer by arrangement, but does not seem to be She knew exactly what they were coming in for, otherwise she wouldn't have been scared out of her wits when the body was found. So we have two directions now. First, one of the killers knew Dale so well that he wouldn't even alarm the watchdogs, and He sent Dale red wine in advance. The bottle he sent was tampered with, and the bottle found by the police at the scene was replaced without any problem. So we went to find a person who met the previous conditions and had a few days before the incident. The gentleman who bought two bottles of the same red wine one day. Very easy, it is Mr. Dale's cousin Neil Graham."

"And what is this 'under the window'?" asked Sherinford.

"We checked Graham's house and there was no mention of the window. If he doesn't notice he's leaving a mark, don't make him think about cleaning it. We could easily be on his kitchen windowsill and the floor in front of the window. Found loose powder, or rather a sample of the dust. Mr. Graham was so careless in dosing the wine himself that he didn't even dispose of the syringe. We didn't even get him The channels for the syringes have all been found, and it is basically solid now.”

"We suspect that he thought he might need it next time, so he was reluctant to throw it away." Jones made a dark joke.

"Thanks for the addition, Mr. Detective. Because of Miss Odo, another line leads to the witches of North Riding. Gentlemen, I speculated that there were two murderers. Maybe I hoped that both Sherinford and Dale would be unconscious. , but Sherringford passed out first, and Dale might have to leave the room to find help, so they resorted to violence directly in a hurry. In order to get Sherinford involved, they controlled Dale to stab him from the angle of Sherinford. One knife, that is to say, whether it is the striker or the person who grabbed Dale from behind, there is likely to be blood on his body. I began to take it for granted that Graham was the one who performed the knife, so I repeatedly searched in his house for possible matches. Nothing about the 'bloodstain' clue. Later I realized how wrong I was. A strong enough woman could have stabbed Mr. Dale to death. In fact, Mrs. Bryant herself preserved it for us very carefully. evidence. Over the years she has carefully collected 'souvenirs' of all the victims of so-called witchcraft, direct or indirect. Her secret locket now has the apron splattered with Dale's blood. I I think you should have found it."

The two police officers nodded.Judging from the expressions, they also found some other things in the box that they really didn't want to see, although they were enough to solve one or two more outstanding cases.

"Now Mr. Graham has confessed and is willing to prove that Mrs. Bryant was directly involved in the murder. As for Mrs. Bryant herself, I think it's just a matter of time. I know you must think it's nothing complicated by now, yes Yes, Mr. Detective, that's written on the faces of your two men. The reason you were helpless was almost because you ignored Miss Alicia Otto, who was not sane. The facts are in front of you, but you I chose to ignore it. Sherringford, your troubles are now completely settled. Old Mr. Holmes, I venture to ask you, are you satisfied now?"

The old gentleman snorted angrily and amusedly, paused his cane, and did not answer.Sherringford smiled and wanted to stand up and say something, when Sherlock suddenly raised his hand to stop him.

"Oh, wait a minute. One last thing. Mr. Inspector, did you just say that it was proven that Miss Green had nothing to do with the case?"

"Yes, Mr. Holmes. We have ruled her out." Jones frowned and looked at Cindy, who was at a loss.

"So you missed a central figure in this case." Holmes left the table with a half-smile, walked around the people staring at him, and walked steadily to Cindy Green.The young woman stared at him in astonishment, her hands clasped, her eyes begging for help at the others in the room.

"Mr. Inspector, you said that I was cleared!" she said. "Impossible! Mr. Holmes, I know nothing, Mr. Holmes!"

"It's over, miss, don't pretend any more."

Holmes said without warmth, and grabbed her trembling hands, her voice choked.Detective Jones stood up.

"Mr. Holmes, should we... Whatthehell?!!!"

But none of those present blamed the detective for his sudden outburst, for they were all petrified.Holmes drew the young woman to him, and kissed her quickly but firmly.Sherringford sprang up from the table, and old Mr. Holmes' cane fell with a snap.Everyone in the room was stunned, frozen like a wax figure.It wasn't until the young woman in her arms flushed with embarrassment that she punched him hard, then Holmes let go of her hand and turned to face the audience.

"Allow me to introduce my students: The Nightingale of Baker Street, The Manchester Detective, Angela Nightingale."

Holmes gently pulled the rosy-cheeked Nightingale to his side.

The author has something to say: the author, who has just handed in the last paper of this semester and will go home tomorrow, has turned on the daily update mode.In fact, every time I see a comment saying that the heroine has not yet appeared, the author snickers inside (￣y▽￣)~* After writing this chapter, I really want to go to the next chapter. Locke beat everyone to persuade... (/^-^(^^*)/