[Sherlock Holmes] The Legend of the Nightingale

(Nightingale's Diary)

"He aimed a gun at you on the second floor." Irene calmly looked back at the emotional Iris, "I know it must be you."

"You... came together?" Iris' only surprise came when Holmes and her sister appeared at the same time.Erin's ability to miraculously be in the right place at the right time was perfectly normal for her.

"To be precise, they just appeared together. Mr. Holmes and I arrived at the same time without mutual knowledge."

"Also, shoot at the same time." Holmes pretended to be careless, wiped the muzzle of the gun with his cuff, and put the revolver and gun into his jacket pocket, but his bright eyes were too expressive to conceal his unstable emotions.I'm speechless at the thought of my dinner lie now being unmasked in a bloody way.Holmes glanced at me out of the corner of his eye.

"If I haven't realized it yet, how do I know you're here? It's too sad. But after changing clothes, I left Miss Adler's letter in the previous coat."

"You...why would you want to search my pocket?"

"Don't get me wrong, you threw your clothes on the sofa and it fell out. But the paper was not found, and I will follow you out. Although Mrs. Norton's gun was for you, but someone took a gun out of the house, I still don't know."

"Your pocket is a bit small for a revolver and a gun," Iris said beside him. "I can tell you have a gun at a glance."

Holmes smiled at her, and turned a little languidly as he turned to me.

"Watson, go to the police, and they will be here in a moment."

I was tempted to crack a joke, as quick as ever, that Watson had nothing to do but call the police, but all the words stuck in my throat.I didn't know where this suffocating feeling came from for a moment, and I stood silently for a while before waking up from the confusion.They might have said something during that time, but I didn't hear anything.

I did something.

Did I really come here after much deliberation?Looking back now, all the inferences are ridiculous, even more ridiculous than dreaming.When I saw Erin, I suddenly understood something.I don't know why people can judge some subtle things with just one look.Holmes must have disagreed with this reasoning.The evidence is too little, too weak.But this reasoning is beyond his professional scope.

Sherlock Holmes is cold, only a kind of soft light can warm him.I know what that is.

I let him down again.

There was a commotion.Here comes the Scotland Yard carriage.The police officers ran over to check the dead body on the ground. No one had gone to see the dead body before.I didn't want to get close, because I felt cold and sick to my stomach when I saw blood.This is an instinctive reaction, and it has nothing to do with whether this person pointed a gun at me just now.A police officer came and had a few words with Holmes.Holmes waved his hand, meaning to talk later.

"You're terrified." He finally softened.I looked up slightly and saw the worry in his eyes that was a bit like sadness.It might have made me feel better if he had reprimanded me harshly, but when he wiped the sarcasm from his eyes and put a hand on my shoulder, I almost cried for a moment.

"It's okay." I said with difficulty.

He took a deep breath, then changed his tone. "Could you please tell me next time? At least learn how to use a gun before going out on a rampage. I was not so fearless when I was your age. Has Watson taught you how to use a gun?"

"not yet."

"I'm glad you didn't have the chance to shoot just now."

At this time, we heard Watson's voice.He had just walked past the police.

"The carriage is about to leave. Are you all right, Nightingale?"

I bitterly felt a trace of dissatisfaction in Watson's tone and expression.

"You say, I'm leaving first. They just wanted to talk to me. Watson, the timing is just right." Holmes patted Watson on the back and hurried away.Watson's eyes were annoyed and helpless.

"So, another adventure?"

I forced a smile. "My question has nothing to do with Holmes. Let's not take it as an example."

Watson whistled very uncharacteristically. "Fortunately, there is a future. Holmes has always believed that you are tough enough, but it does not mean that you are so hard that even a revolver and a gun can't penetrate. He has always been able to pretend, you know what I mean. At first he joked that you secretly carried a gun There may be a good show going out, so you have to go out and watch. When he found the note on the sofa, his face turned gray, and he directly curled the note into a ball, pretending to stand up calmly, saying that you have encountered a 'little' trouble, Tell me to go to Scotland Yard to call the police, and I pack away at my leisure. He thinks I haven't seen anything. He doesn't like being seen anxious. No, don't ask Holmes, he won't admit it."

We followed the people ahead to the carriage.Holmes absorbed himself in his conversation with the Inspector.We saw the slim backs of the Adler sisters.

"A metaphor comes to mind," I said. "If Holmes is claret, Irene is champagne."

I can't think of anything better than this.Sherlock Holmes behaved as if he had been rehearsed for a stage play, with a calm voice and intonation, the mellow color of ruby, deep color and background.As for Irene, under the crystal lamp at the ball, she was as bright as jewels but not as gaudy as jewels. The fine bubbles swayed and rose, transparent and beautiful.

Watson thought about it carefully, and nodded in agreement. "And what about her sister?"

"Well, some kind of strong bar."

"And me?"

"White wine."

"What about you?"

I am silent.Watson gave a mysterious smile.

"Believe it or not, Holmes said very similar things this evening."

I looked up at him.

"He said Irene was like sparkling wine and her sister was brandy."

"almost."

"Say you're like a German stout."

"why?"

"Better ask him."

I use sensibility to feel logical reasoning and science, and use reason to analyze emotion.I thought we were alike.But resemblance is of no use, is it?There may be thousands of people like us in this world.Resemblance is of no use.

"The most important thing to ask is how did he know that someone would kill Iris. But there is no need to ask now."

So I told Watson in the coach at Scotland Yard.Generally speaking, the allocation of carriages is like this: Holmes, Watson and I share a carriage with Lestrade, and the others are divided separately.Today, at the request of Holmes, Irene joined the policeman's carriage, and Watson and I were kicked out to ride with Iris.

"Why?" Alice asked.

I lean my head against the car window.This is a muddled account.The so-called Professor Murphy wants to destroy the letter, that is to destroy the evidence.Evidence includes witnesses and physical evidence.If they don't get a reply, they will choose to kill the insider, Irene.Once Irene died, it would be much easier to prove that the two letters were forged, but they had to find a way to get rid of the crime first—find a scapegoat.After figuring this out, it becomes clear why the earl sent us fake entrusted tasks.Ask Holmes to find the so-called photos, and he will inevitably follow Irene.If the people sent by Professor Murphy can't get the letter, they will find an opportunity to murder Irene in the presence of Holmes, creating the illusion that he shot her.There were twists and turns in the plan, Holmes found out that there was a ghost in it, and refused to continue working for the earl.However, by mistake, Irene wanted to retreat by herself, and handed over the letter to someone who was capable of confronting Professor Murphy, and revived their bankrupt plan.The two met in a secluded place, and someone shot and killed Irene in the dark and then escaped without anyone noticing, and Holmes couldn't explain it at that time.Even if he had the ability to prove his innocence, the witnesses were wiped out.What's even more wrong is that the person who brought the letter was not Irene, but Iris.It wasn't Sherlock Holmes who met her, it was me.Under the circumstances at the time, the killer couldn't tell Irene from Iris, but I could also use it, so I had to kill Iris.It's just that Irene and Holmes thought of this question at the same time and arrived in time.

"Where did you pick this child up? The imagination is rich enough." Iris put on Erlang's legs and said with narrowed eyes.

"She has a point," said Watson good-naturedly.

"I'd like to know more about Irene's thinking." I stared at Iris.

"I don't want to know." She said slightly sarcastically, "We're too tired trying to figure out what's on her mind."

After that we were silent all the way.At Scotland Yard, Lestrade asked me a few simple questions and pulled me aside.He talked for a long time with Holmes and Irene without asking any questions.

"Mr. Holmes, if you refuse to reveal the client's information, at least please show me the letter." Lestrade, who was almost collapsed, said.Holmes could have refused to answer his question in the most tactful but unquestionable manner, even if he had not been in such a bad mood as to categorically refuse, and there was nothing he could do in view of the special status of the consulting detective.

Those present were silent for a long time.Irene and Holmes exchanged glances.

"Yes," said Holmes. "The letter is in Miss Adler's hands."

Iris got Irene's affirmative look, took out an envelope and handed it to Lestrade.I suddenly realized that it should be two letters.It was impossible for Holmes to ignore such a thing.After looking back and forth between the two calm people, I knew that they had reached a consensus.

"Is this the one signed by Pollock?" Lestrade read it several times, and then focused on the signature.

"These are the contacts, not the masterminds," said Holmes flatly. "They are very clever."

After a bit of back and forth, we were finally allowed to leave Scotland Yard in the early hours of the morning.I've been sleeping on the couch in the office for quite a while now.

"I now suspect that the cases that Scotland Yard can't handle are all because you concealed some facts." Irene said meaningfully.

"If I do not hide the truth, Mrs. Norton, you are in serious trouble now." Holmes threw back the arrow she had shot.

"Four o'clock in the morning." Irene glanced at her small pocket watch, "I should go to the port soon. Robert should have packed his luggage."

"Is the whole family going together?" asked Holmes.

"Robert will stay. But we won't be going back to England." She put the watch back.

"Why? That footman has been with you for many years."

"Of course it's because of mistrust." She rolled her eyes and spoke calmly and gently.

"It is a pity that I cannot see you off," said Holmes. "I still owe the earl an account."

This sentence is a bit inexplicable.I thought for a while, the Adler sisters were all involved in the shooting, it is impossible for the Earl not to know.He will definitely come and get the letter back.The problem is we only have one now.Holmes left Pollock's letter in Scotland Yard, at least much safer than in 221B.Irene stayed behind, she never planned to give everything to me from the beginning.

"That, where 'his' power can't reach." Irene also replied with an inexplicable sentence.

The author has something to say: Strictly speaking, today is not the expected recovery update time.The reason for rushing to publish this chapter at this time is because the author really wants to take this opportunity to say something.

During this period of time, I have fully thought about this article (don’t ask me if I am reviewing it well...) I read a few more episodes of the detective story, and watched Rathbone’s version of the movie, and found an evasion Long question.Whether the classic film and television image is the image I want to write is a question worth thinking about.For example, although I really like Bright’s version, Bright’s Sherlock Holmes may not be exactly the same as the image formed in my mind when I read the original book, and it can even be said that it is impossible to be the same at all. Maybe the Sherlock Holmes and Conan Doyle in my impression want to The Sherlock Holmes portrayed is also different.The final result of this question is that expressing what I want to express is not a complete imitation.When the image in my mind conflicts with the existing image, I will choose to write the person I imagined as closely as possible, instead of trying to get closer to the characters in the TV series.This decision can be said to have broken through a bottleneck.

I looked at what I had already written, and as expected, I started to feel that it was not good no matter how I read it. . .Many places that can be carefully crafted are made by water, and there are very few descriptions. It is a very delicate knowledge that can neither talk nonsense but be just right.It cannot be repaired now, maybe in the future, and the details may be polished one after another in the future.The plot and the general direction will not be changed, readers can rest assured~ The reasoning is useless and hard-core. If you have to make up a case and refuse to just write about the daily life, every time you look at your own loopholes in the reasoning, you will feel (xx_x;).

Finally, there is the final exam of the dog belt.The author is now in a disheartened state. Xuesu's exam is life and death. I feel that I need to do more before the results are out. After the results are finished, the extracurricular projects will be cut. . .Nightingale's mood in this chapter today is almost the same as mine. She is obviously full of self-blame, but she still smiles and jokes with Watson to have fun while suffering.I kind of want to cuddle with my heroine and cry...