[Sherlock Holmes] The Legend of the Nightingale

(Nightingale's Diary)

Reigate's case ended perfectly.The police department is also looking for trafficked victims and other accomplices based on the criminals' statements.Stevenson has also confessed that he killed little Jack because something went wrong when he anesthetized the child. The boy resisted and knocked down the handkerchief.It was certain that the scoundrel's appointment with the gallows was inescapable.

Our vacation is over.After sending a letter to Mrs. Hudson to report her safety, how to write a letter to Mrs. Adams to continue her leave became the top priority.There is hardly any family that can safely let a person who has a connection with a series of kidnapping and murders be a tutor for a six-year-old daughter.I had hoped that Watson would write me a note.

"Why don't you worry? It's not you who kidnapped and killed people." Watson said puzzledly, "You are the investigator."

"Nor do investigators."

"They don't know you're a trainee detective?"

"You may think of it that way, Watson," said Holmes, clearing his throat. "Is there anyone who would want to employ me as a violin teacher to a six-year-old?"

"Of course not. Ah, so I understand."

Holmes smiled unnaturally. "So you should find a way for her, otherwise Miss Nightingale will lose her job."

For the conscientious and responsible Dr. Watson, it is a serious violation of professional ethics to make false statements.Of course, according to common sense, this is indeed the case.Holmes had already made up my illness, its cause and the whole development process in a flash, but Watson refused to write it.So, for the sake of my job and Watson's work ethic, my final leave letter back to London read:

Dear Mrs Adams,

I rested very well in the Reigate countryside, where the scenery is beautiful, the security is good, the folk customs are simple, the environment is quiet, and the life is peaceful.Although comfortable, I still miss Constantine and my friends and look forward to returning to London soon.Unfortunately, some unpleasant things have happened these days.On the night of April 23, I was robbed on my way back to my residence.Fortunately, with the help of Mr. Holmes who was with me, the robbers failed to succeed and were captured instead.The local police are now investigating the matter.The culprit is said to be a local habitual offender who has also been linked to kidnappings and murders.This matter is very important. As witnesses, we are not allowed to go out at the police station at will, and we are not allowed to communicate with the outside world without special permission. We must wait until the court hearing is over before we can return to London. We cannot return to work on time. I hope my wife will understand.If we're lucky, we can go back in mid-May.

Yours sincerely,

Angela Nightingale

"Fortunately, you still want to go to the Faculty of Arts." Holmes frowned and read through the improvised leave letter. "It's full of loopholes."

"Why do you have to be so serious, just express your meaning." I pulled the letter paper back from his hand, "I admit that I couldn't help but want to add a little comedy effect when I wrote it. Give me the envelope."

"Then you can expect to be dismissed." Holmes threw the envelope to me. "Criminal involvement, dishonesty, and extremely poor language skills."

"One more thing, the piano level is not good."

"Watson, you just have to listen quietly and we won't forget you."

Things are not as bad as we thought.It may be that Lestrade's face played a role, or that the relationship I developed with Constantine kept my job. Mrs. Adams wrote me back in a softly worded letter, asking if I was hurt or frightened. , take a good rest and don't worry about work.I was relieved to see that she started her address with "Angela" instead of "Miss Nightingale".

"Don't forget the possibility," said Holmes, "that even if she had written 'Miss Nightingale,' she might have meant Miss Nightingale."

"That sounds pretty nice."

We return to London in early May.Although it is only a month or so, it is as long as a lifetime.I feel more drained than I was in London.Holmes, on the other hand, recovered very well, and he neither exhausted his mind nor was he too idle.On a sunny morning, we returned to the familiar entrance of 221B Baker Street.After knocking on the door three times but no one answered, Holmes took out the key and opened the door.

"Mrs. Hudson isn't home." He inspected the coat hooks and the shoe cabinet. "A lady called this morning. A gentleman called not a day ago. I hope we haven't missed anything interesting."

"You may relax at home, Holmes."

"got used to."

Taking off my coat and changing my shoes, I took a deep breath.Although the country is beautiful, and London is a chaotic, busy big city with bad air and a gloomy atmosphere, it still doesn't change that this house is the place I feel most kinship with at the moment.I was about to lie down on the sofa with my whole body relaxed, when I suddenly saw a piece of paper full of words pressed on the coffee table with a teacup.

"Look, what's going on here?"

I picked up the note and glanced at it, suddenly a little dumbfounded.

"What? A note?" Watson leaned over to read it.

"Read it to me." Holmes hung up his coat, took off his tie and flung it in an unknown direction.

I handed the note to Watson, and he read the whole text very faithfully with the same solemn tone:

Dear Mr. Holmes, Dr. Watson and Miss Nightingale,

After receiving your letter, I thought about it and felt that I haven't had a decent vacation for a long time.Although I was really free during the month you were away, and Mr. Holmes's room did not need to be repaired for a whole month for the first time in a row, but it would be better if I could completely get rid of housework for a period of time.So, knowing the exact time of your return, I immediately bought a ticket from London to my cousin's house in Yorkshire that morning.I will leave the house to Mrs. Dole to take care of for the time being, so as to prevent you from being unable to arrive home on time due to any unforeseen circumstances.I will be in Yorkshire until the 221th of June, so ladies and gentlemen, until then you will be completely on your own.Hopefully my home hasn't turned into a flea market or a shootout when I get back, and the kitchen hasn't burned down, and there hasn't been food poisoning, a lab explosion, or [-]B being razed to the ground.Wish ya'll good luck!

Martha Hudson

PS On the afternoon before my departure, a Mr. Richard Clarke visited. He said he was a friend of Miss Nightingale, and he passed by and asked her if she had investigated the "orange pit".I don't know what this "orange core" is, I hope Miss Nightingale knows what's going on.

PSS The letter from Miss Nightingale's home arrived while you were away.I put it on Mr. Holmes' desk.

"I... never knew that Mrs. Hudson could still be so humorous." Watson put down the note, "Could it be the result of living with us for a long time?"

"I think it was the result of anger." Holmes lazily unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt, sat down on the sofa, leaned on the backrest, and closed his eyes. "What did she say?" You have to take care of yourself completely. .' Such a sarcastic tone, as if forgetting that we are all adults."

"That's right," said Watson, "you always cook, Nightingale?"

"It can be done well."

"..."

I spread my hands helplessly. "No way. Maybe it's because my father taught me to do experiments and my mother taught me to cook, and I got them mixed up."

"Father taught chemistry, and mother studied at home. You are a perfect compound." Watson read the note in his hand several times and folded it several times. "But now we have to solve the problem of lunch. Please don't say go out to eat." , there is still a whole month to come."

At this moment Holmes opened his eyes, looked at the clock, and closed them again. "There's no need to run on ladies, Watson. A woman who can't cook is as rare as a woman who can go to a liberal arts school."

"Hey, I didn't say I can't cook."

"Go and rest, all of you, and I will cook your lunch," said Holmes absently, ignoring my objection.

"I haven't seen you cook yet."

"What's the matter. Watson, can you tell me what happened to the orange pit? If there is something inexplicable in the note, you should ask Nightingale immediately instead of bringing the topic to lunch. Of course, as far as I know you, Now you should pretend to ask me what's going on."

"Uh... what about the orange pit?" Watson said after five seconds of reaction.I rubbed my forehead helplessly.

"Then you'll be eager to deny what I've said."

"No, I don't understand what you mean."

"Then you should avoid the subject."

"Forget it, you'd better ask Nightingale."

The two old roommates confronted each other, and Watson was defeated without any suspense.Watson stepped aside from the front line.Holmes sat up straight on the sofa and squinted at me.

"What's the matter, Nightingale?"

"If... this is anything."

I embarrassingly told the whole story about Richard's five orange pits.Because of what happened after Holmes' return, both Watson and I forgot that there was such a business.Watson forbade me to bother Holmes with these things, fearing that his recovery would be hampered by such trifles.Later, when there was a kidnapping case, I completely forgot about it.

"There is not much information, and no conclusions can be drawn." Holmes thought for a while, "But I never dismiss such things as a joke. If you had mentioned it earlier, it might have been interesting. But I will talk about it later. Cook first."

"Wait, it's only nine o'clock." Watson looked at the clock. "It's still far from lunch."

"When I'm done it's time for lunch."

"..."

Holmes closed the kitchen door, declaring that no one should disturb him while he was thinking.But cooking is different from solving crimes.I brought the letters home from Holmes' room, and while I read them I sat chatting with Watson in the drawing-room, and occasionally with the detective in the kitchen.

"Nightingale, please fetch the sodium chloride from my shelf," said the detective, opening the door half way, and poking his head out.

"What?"

"I can't find where the salt is."

"Are you kidding?!"

"Laboratory items are strictly prohibited for use in food."

Watson and I answered simultaneously.

A faint smile crept across Holmes' face. "Really? It's against the rules for you to drink soda when doing experiments with me. Have you ever wondered where the baking soda came from?"

"You...you put the sodium bicarbonate used in the experiment..."

"as you wish."

Although I just found out that I am in danger of being poisoned by my teacher every day, I still feel that his bright smile can ignite fresh inspiration in people's hearts that have been silent for a long time.A person can turn his every action in daily life into aesthetics in poetry and prose, but he is a person who does not understand literature.

"Don't take it seriously, Nightingale." I may have been in a daze for too long, Holmes put away his smug expression and said, "It's just that I suddenly feel that I can make a good joke. Of course I know where the salt is."

"So the baking soda is also fake?" His suddenly softened tone woke me up from the trance, and I asked a little unnaturally, remembering my secret inappropriately.

"Sorry, that's true."

The author has something to say: let’s take a piece of daily life between unit cases~~~ Of course, there are two things that are not allowed to eat in the laboratory, and are not allowed to use the materials in the laboratory to cook food, but I don’t know if it was in that era There's already this code, uh...

Continue to broadcast the preview of Goddess Irene's appearance, waiting until I am anxious.