[Sherlock Holmes] The Legend of the Nightingale

(God's perspective)

Standing at the door of 221B Baker Street was Hattie Dolan, who left London to return to the United States less than a year ago.

Watson didn't take long to respond.He made a gesture.

"Please come in."

The servant named Sneddon stayed outside and let her in.Hattie walked into the living room with steady steps like a lady.Under the lamp in the living room, Watson could see Hatty Dolan clearly now.

Her eyes were heavily made-up and her lips were bright red, but her face was haggard and sallow, and even the makeup couldn't hide it.The doctor was too shocked to speak.What kind of life has turned a beautiful girl in her prime into this in seven months?alcoholism?Turn day and night upside down?

"Miss Dolan, when will you..."

"It's too late to say that now." Her voice, which was so different from before, shocked him again. "I must see Mr. Holmes at once. Something happened to Angela."

"Angela?"

"Something went wrong at the party."

Watson was not as surprised as he should have been when he heard Angela's name.Perhaps it was because Hattie's sudden appearance had made all the unexpected seem unsurprising.He asked her to sit down first, and ran upstairs to knock on Holmes' door—not because the doctor was too polite and still caring about these details, but because the fellow locked the door from the inside.Watson couldn't open the door, and there was no answer when he knocked on the door. In desperation, he had to take some extreme measures to open the door and go in. Mr. Detective would not mind reinstalling a lock on the door of the room later.Holmes was not lying on the bed at all, but was dozing on the sofa in his pajamas.According to what he knew from his roommate, Watson was not worried about waking him up, so he stretched out his hands and shook Holmes' shoulders vigorously, and he jumped up like a Halloween scare toy.He had always slept alertly, and the potion couldn't disturb that.

"Watson? What's the matter?" Holmes looked up at Watson with sleepy eyes, but his voice was clear.

"Nightingale had an accident at the banquet. So she...someone came to see you. I don't know exactly what happened."

Holmes paused, and covered his forehead with his hand, looking troubled.

"I'll be there right away. You go to rest."

"I will go with you."

"I know what to do with the trouble she has caused," said Holmes, pulling himself together, and getting up to get his shirt. "Does she know that I have nothing to do now, and is afraid that I will damage my spirit with the intravenous injection? Thank you very much."

"Oh, and the person who delivered the letter..."

"I'll go down and talk to him myself."

"is her……"

"Aren't there any men in London?" Holmes probably didn't know what he was muttering, but just stimulated his spirits while changing clothes.As before, Watson ignored his instructions and went back to his room to tidy up.When he too was fully dressed and went downstairs to get his coat, he saw Holmes on the stairs walking towards Hatty in the drawing room.Watson ran downstairs to explain, but Holmes just bowed slightly when he walked up to her, and his peaceful eyes stayed on her face for a second or two, perhaps a little bit of a sudden realization, and then looked away. Moved away, walked straight to the coat hook by the door.

"Long time no see, Henrietta. Thank you for coming to let us know."

Holmes put on his overcoat as he spoke.

"We can go." Watson looked at the time. "We can talk about the details on the way. No, Holmes, I have packed up and will definitely go with you."

Holmes agreed to the doctor's pulling of his hat, but he opened the door and went out without answering.Sneddon was still waiting by the carriage on the side of the road, and opened the door when Holmes walked up to the carriage, but the detective still waited gracefully for Hattie to come and let her go first.

"Is this your carriage, Miss Dolan?" Watson asked after taking a closer look at the luxurious carriage.Hattie didn't even stop, and walked quickly past Watson as if she didn't hear him, and got into the carriage directly.

"It's not Miss Dolan's own carriage, Watson," Holmes said to the bewildered doctor with a touch of sympathy and bitterness. "It belongs to her fiancé. But I don't know which nobleman it is."

Watson looked back at him incredulously.

"If the ring on her hand is too small for you to notice, look at the family arms on the carriage. Blue background, with three caltrops on the center belt. Not sure which family, but I have the impression of a very powerful family. Get in the car, and Miss Dolan will tell us."

"Lord San Simeon." Hattie's strange and calm voice came from the car, as if talking about something unrelated to her, "The second son of the Duke of Balmoral."

"By the way," Holmes pulled his partner, who had not fully recovered, into the carriage, "I have the impression that this family is either of Anjou dynasty blood or Tudor dynasty. But it is useless. Miss Dolan, Please go out yourself and tell us what happened to Miss Nightingale."

Hattie, who was sitting across from the two, looked very uneasy, but she didn't mean to be embarrassed by the reunion of old people, but simply anxious because of the urgency of the situation.

"Norma Neruda wore her family emerald necklace to the banquet. You all know it's worth thousands of pounds."

Holmes listened intently to Hatty's speech, his eyes calm and bright.This attitude is especially useful when dealing with flustered clients, because the calmer the detectives seem, the less likely they are to have neurotic attacks.

"I'm not interested in jewelry. I'm interested in people who are interested in them."

Hatty was a little shocked, or a little irritated, by Holmes' answer.

"Then this time would be too interesting for Mr. Holmes. The necklace was stolen half an hour before I came, and now they have caught Angela and said she stole it. They have already called the police."

Holmes showed a hint of shock, and leaned back slightly.

"As far as I know Miss Nightingale, she never thought about such a thing."

"Mrs. Neluda heard that she was the young detective who solved the case for Miss Hopkins. She was very curious, so she chatted with Angela for a while. Then the lady felt a little dizzy and wanted to rest in the house. Miss Hopkins asked Angela took her to a quieter room, because Angela was still familiar with the house. The lady took a nap, woke up to find that the necklace was gone, and Angela was not in the room. She ran back to the hall, Named Angela for stealing her necklace. Angela vehemently denies it."

"Did no one see her steal, or did she not?" asked Watson.Now the incident with Angela overwhelmed Hattie's shock.

"No. Everyone's at the party."

"Have you found the necklace?"

"No."

"Not found in Nightingale?"

Holmes responded with a chuckle at Watson's question.Hatty was a little embarrassed, lowered her head and straightened her gloves, and said, "Mrs. Neluda asked for a body search, but Angela refused, she said that she would not accept anyone's body search except Scotland Yard, even if it could prove her innocence. Several nobles who admired Mrs. Neluda tried to get the servant to enforce it, but she..."

She paused to consider a more appropriate wording.Holmes turned to Watson with a helpless tone:

"I see. Turns out she pulls out a .[-]/gun."

Hatty probably didn't know the caliber of the gun, but she heard the word "hand/gun".

"Yes. They were still fighting when I came out. They had the servant watch her in case she ran away."

"Have you called the police?"

"I don't know, but the police should be called."

"One last question," said Holmes thoughtfully. "Did Nightingale send you to come to me?"

"No, it's Miss Hopkins. She was worried that the situation would be bad for Angela, and she remembered you, Mr. Holmes. You can prove that Angela was wronged."

"Very well, thank you." With these last words, Holmes remained silent until they reached their destination.

Hilda Hopkins' birthday party was a total mess.With Hatty together, Holmes and Dr. Watson entered without waiting for the footman to report.Hopkins appeared at the hall door.

"You have come at a good time, Mr. Holmes. The people from Scotland Yard have arrived and are investigating," she said anxiously, looking at Holmes as if she had been looking at a lifesaver-though it was a good thing to say.Apart from what happened last time, today's turmoil is also a matter of life and death for her reputation.

"There is not much time. Let's go in first, Miss Hopkins." Holmes interrupted her.He still doesn't trust the woman's ability to objectively recount these things, and he is more at ease from the people of Scotland Yard.

The scene in the hall was spectacular. No matter how many crystal lamps, candle holders, sumptuous and exquisite desserts and gorgeous costumes, they could not steal the limelight of Nightingale at this moment.Hilda Hopkins separated the crowd and led them to the center where the police officers gathered. Holmes was not even in the mood to salute the ladies.People moved out of the way and watched them whispering, in which the names of Holmes and Nightingale were heard many times.Nightingale sat at the dining table, staring at the ground, without saying a word.She was wearing a beige gown—Hopkins had made her one, she didn't have anything of this splendor—and around her neck was a round amethyst.

Inspector Jones nodded to Holmes, but said nothing.Nightingale slowly raised her head and exchanged a glance with Holmes, looking tired but not worried.Holmes exchanged a few words with her, and then addressed the inspector:

"Have you found the necklace?"

"No, we can't search for her here, we need to go back to Scotland Yard to solve it. Now we just look at the scene." Jones said a little sadly, "Your student didn't let us bother, and when he saw us at the scene, he took the initiative to hand over the gun. "

"Next time I'll teach her how to use it besides handing it over... no, just kidding. No necklace found, no proof of who stole it?"

"No." Jones replied simply. "But let me remind you, Mr. Holmes, that it is not proper for you to intervene in this matter."

"The relationship between her and me does not interfere with the facts." Holmes looked around. "Where is Mrs. Neluda?"

"Rest upstairs," said Hilda. "She's angry, and no one can persuade her to come down."

"I'm sorry I have to disturb her, Miss Hopkins, she's the key to the solution. If she won't come down, we'll go upstairs."

"Wait, Mr. Holmes." Jones felt that the atmosphere was not right. "This is an alarm received by Scotland Yard. It is not your entrustment. It is up to us to decide how to solve it."

"I am entrusted now." Holmes gestured to Hilda.Jones hesitated.

"The current situation is like this. After Miss Nightingale and Mrs. Neluda's maid left the lounge, no one saw whether anyone went upstairs after that, so if anyone took the opportunity to take the necklace, there is no way to know. Fortunately, the guests knew that the matter was complicated, and in order to prove their innocence, they didn't leave."

"Then, we have to ask the person concerned."

The author has something to say: Let me explain in advance, the next part of the plot may be a little confusing, and the author will be confused as soon as he compiles the case. . .The main thing is to read the story, just read the story...