[Sherlock Holmes] The Legend of the Nightingale

(Manuscript by Dr. Watson)

Angela Nightingale, 15 years old, about five feet tall, with a small build, black hair and dark eyes, eyes slightly set inwards, a slightly hooked nose, wearing glasses on a chain around her neck like a hardworking college student .Her appearance is mediocre, but with her youthful spirit, few people pay attention to her appearance.We also had a discussion that night about where the new Miss Nightingale should live.

"Can I look through your book?" Sometimes Holmes' mind is not on the same topic as ours.

"Okay, just take a look." Nightingale said, sitting on the sofa after taking a shower and changing clothes.The change of clothes she brought in the box was saved by the light of the raincoat.At this moment Mrs. Hudson came in with hot soup.

"I remember that there is a small room next to Dr. Watson's room upstairs that is vacant. It can be given to Miss Nightingale." Holmes put Nightingale's book on the desk.

"Yes," said Mrs. Hudson. "The locker room has since been remodeled. I can free it up if Miss Nightingale needs it. The price is very low, if there is no need for a larger space."

"I don't need much space." Nightingale probably decided not to care about the fact of "storage room" because of her limited financial conditions.

"But why don't you live in your employer's house?" I asked. "Generally, tutors are in charge of boarding and lodging."

"Because I don't want to," she shrugged. "Besides, it's more interesting to live in Baker Street. The board and lodging are paid for by me."

"Very well," said Holmes. "I think your future permanent residence will be decided within a week."

Nightingale glanced at me.

His opinion of her has not fundamentally changed.Holmes gave her only one week.

After breakfast the next day, Holmes had a long conversation with the new student in the drawing room.I organize my work notes and listen to them occasionally.Nightingale briefly talked about her family situation and her school experience.It was normal at the beginning, but then the content of the conversation began to fall into the strange style of the two of them, and I began to put down my work involuntarily and listen to them.

The conversation I heard was as follows:

"Then?" It was Holmes.

"Then I poured half a beaker of hydrochloric acid and threw a coin into it to show him the bubbles. Then I poured the rest of the hydrochloric acid into the cup and poured caustic soda in and stirred it." This was Nightingale.

"You gave him"

"Yes, I said, now you can drink."

"interesting."

"He wouldn't, so I said, if I can prove there's no poison, you've got to throw in the towel. He agreed."

"Did you drink?"

"Drinked."

"Do not make jokes."

"Ah, indeed. Who can guarantee the exact amount. I poured the contents of the cup into the fish tank. Nothing happened."

"Yes, the fish may die of salt. What's the matter, Watson? You look so surprised."

"It's nothing, I just thought Miss Nightingale was studying literature." I closed my notebook, and it seemed that my work would not be done.

"It's true that he studies literature. A quasi-literary student who admires Isaac Newton and reads Philosophiae Naturalis Principia Mathematica ("Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy"), although he just wants to experience Newton himself as intuitively as possible." Holmes replied. "This kind of research spirit can be regarded as a supplement to the profession."

Nightingale rolled her eyes upwards.

Speaking of which reminds me of one thing.Someone told me back then that he believed that Holmes would give his friends alkaloids in order to conduct experiments.Of course, this is not true, because I am still alive and well.He only occasionally tried plant alkaloids on his friends' dogs.

"I almost understand your case." Holmes lit his pipe.It seems that he was so absorbed in the conversation just now that he even forgot to smoke. "I'm thinking about what I can get you to do this week. I have a couple of not-so-difficult cases at hand, but I'm afraid you won't be able to get involved just yet. I don't have much time to test your abilities."

"It's not a problem. I don't dare to solve the case now."

"Then I'll ask you a simple question. If you solve it within this week, you'll pass."

"can."

From Nightingale's interested expression, I felt that she underestimated the enemy.

"Well, the problem is to find your notebook." Holmes took a drag on his cigarette and let it out slowly, showing a sly smile through the smoke.

"My notebook?" she said in a tone of disbelief. "It's with me...huh? Did I leave it with you?"

"Yes," said Holmes happily. "Yesterday when you entered the door, you put all your paper things on my desk, including notebooks. I also looked carefully. They are your study notes for this year. I I believe there are many insights in it, but unfortunately I can’t read it.”

Nightingale got up at once and ran to Holmes' room.I glanced at Holmes in surprise, and he returned a sly look.Undoubtedly, the new kid was playing tricks again.

Don't ask me why it is "again".

Nightingale came back with fire in her eyes.

"Where's my laptop?"

"Didn't it just say that if you find it, you will pass the test."

"What kind of test is this?!"

"If you think this is too simple, try it." Holmes no longer looked at her. "If you want to follow us to deal with the case, you should settle this first."

Nightingale put her hand on her forehead and thought for a while.

"At least give me a range."

"It's in this house."

"How long is the stipulated time?"

"As I said, a week."

"One week?"

"If you think it's too long, you can shorten it."

She looked hesitantly from Holmes to me.I shook my head desperately at her.

"Not long." She said, "That's it. But there is one thing, you can't change the place where you hide things."

"There's no need to play such childish tricks with you."

I kind of want to say, this is already very small children.

"Today is Saturday. You don't have to start tomorrow on Sunday, and you can count the first day from Monday, how about it?"

"Monday is also my first day at work." Nightingale said sternly. "I'd rather start now."

"Then take it easy."

I really want to know what the hell Holmes is up to.

Nightingale searched all night, and got up early the next morning to look for it again.She was beginning to feel that a week wasn't that long.Gradually realizing that it is impossible to rely on her mind to deduce where things are hidden, she chose the most stupid, but also the most effective method under the current situation: a comprehensive search.She searched her closet, Holmes' room, my room, the living room and even the kitchen and washroom, but she couldn't find the notebook.Holmes hasn't been out of the house for the past two days, and seems to be watching her jokes at home.After she got Mrs. Hudson's permission and even searched the landlord's room, all she had to do was stand at the door and look at the mess with a wry smile.

"Did you really get Mrs. Hudson's consent to make the room like this?" Holmes asked while sitting on the sofa in the living room, admiring it.

"Yes." Nightingale said angrily, "And she said, whether I find it or not, the debt will be on your head."

Holmes leaned helplessly on the back of the sofa. "You really don't want to suffer."

"Just kidding. I'll clean up myself."

"You are good enough," said Holmes thoughtfully. "Last night you were the first to seek your own room, for the most dangerous place may be the safest."

"I beg you not to speak so high-end. I just read "The Stolen Letter" written by a certain Edgar Allan Poe." Nightingale turned around and said. "After searching all the corners and corners, I finally found that the things are placed in the most conspicuous places."

"It sounds smart, but it's actually too smart. No one would do that." Holmes waved his hand to express his disdain.

"why?"

"Because a real comprehensive search will not miss any inch, and it will be the first to be found if it is placed in the most obvious place. So I will not do this, you can rest assured."

Nightingale forcefully suppressed the anger that had already appeared on her face.

"Where else have you not looked for?" I really couldn't see it.

"I haven't looked for it..." She took a 360-degree look at the house, and pointed to the box in Holmes' room:

"Holmes' notes."

The audience was silent.Holmes gave her a somewhat surprised look.It is well known that no one but himself should touch his notes, and Mrs. Hudson and I did not venture to touch them, because no one dared to try the consequences.At first I wanted to remind her not to touch this reverse scale, but the words from behind her kept me silent.

"Can I look through your notes?" Her tone was really meaningful.

Holmes stared at her without speaking.

"Unless you're sure my notebook isn't there."

Holmes went on to his own book, and not to hers. "That's not necessarily the case. If you are worried, you can look through it."

Nightingale sighed and walked to sit beside him.Holmes closed the book and prepared himself for the storm with a serious face.

"I don't want to touch your notes," she said.

"Ok?"

"Because my sloppy habit is very likely to cause some trouble in your notes because of this matter."

Holmes was a little surprised, and his face softened a little.

"So you gave up on that box? Even though there's a chance the notebook was in there?"

"Yes. But the notes aren't in there, I know."

Holmes looked down at himself again. "Then whatever you want."

Nightingale had a look of disbelief.

"Don't tell me you were trying to cheat the answer just now." I said sympathetically.

"It's there. Not quite."

Holmes laughed, shook his head, and never looked up at her.

"If you want to get out of him, give up." I looked at my watch, "If you're tired, take a day off, there's still a week left. You haven't stopped since last night."

"I'm going to work tomorrow." She said listlessly, "Okay, tomorrow, tomorrow we'll see."

Holmes, who was sitting on the sofa, smiled a little smugly.

The author has something to say: Dear girl, I really want to tell you where the notebook is right now...

And in "A Study in Scarlet", Holmes used Watson's critically ill puppy to test the alkaloids, although it was with Watson's consent.