[Sherlock Holmes] The Legend of the Nightingale

(God's perspective)

Fragment one

The day after it happened, Lisa quit her job and went home.The investigation team on Baker Street checked her train number and destination according to the information she left. Although they guessed that she might not have told the truth, in fact she did not tell the truth.The man just disappeared across England.Because this matter is not life-threatening, maybe he just gave her a sum of money and sent her away.

Fragment two

221B Baker Street.

"I know you're not in the mood for reading right now, and you and Hattie must have talked."

"She met Lord San Simeon in the United States, fell in love at first sight, and got engaged in the United States." Nightingale put down the book, "It's not surprising, she is the kind of girl who makes people fall in love at first sight. Oh... sorry."

"It's nothing." The doctor smiled slightly, "No wonder, otherwise we would have read news of the engagement in the newspaper. Will you meet soon?"

"Do you want to see her?"

"No need." Watson waved his hand.

"Ok."

"Recently..." The doctor originally wanted to finish the sentence in one breath, but when he saw Nightingale looking up at him, the following words got stuck.

"You said."

"You and Holmes have been very stiff during this period." Watson chose the least clear one among the countless alternative expressions in his mind.

"What do you mean?" Nightingale picked up the book again.

"You're avoiding him." Her attitude of turning things into nothing actually annoyed the doctor a bit, "You don't want to face him alone, or talk to him."

"You think so?"

"It's not that I think, it's very obvious." Watson raised his hand and tapped the spine of her book. "Even Mrs. Hudson asked me yesterday if Holmes said something to hurt you, which is why you are so estranged."

"He never thought of teaching me." Nightingale put the book away. "He hates girls because they are slow, too emotional, and pretend to be smart."

"You know it's not. He never said so."

"But he thinks so, and I can see it. It's a good thing he doesn't want me to know."

"It's not like you haven't succeeded together."

Nightingale stood up.She is calm, there is no anger in her eyes, only a little sadness.

"I'm sure it started with your last case. You know what I'm talking about," said Watson in a low voice. "But Holmes has never changed to you."

"Yes, Holmes will always be that way. If we quarrel, it is I who alienate."

"Angela."

Nightingale, who was about to leave, paused.

"Sometimes I really want to tell you my secret, doctor, but unfortunately the situation doesn't allow it." Her tone was a little sarcastic.

Watson took a deep breath. "Nightingale, do you know that she always mentions in a mysterious tone that she has a secret, which is the characteristic of a woman who cannot keep it secret."

"Then I will give up telling you." Nightingale said.

Fragment Three

The home of Star contributor Jonathan Silver.

"It's a pity that it's still a little worse than expected."

"What did Mr. Pollock envision?"

Jonathan Silver looked up and down at the gentleman across from his desk.This is a professional habit. When he talks to people in the newspaper office, he always looks like this. He sits at the desk and glances up at the person standing opposite him, but it does not mean that he is on the weak side. .

"Be imaginative, sir. It's not my job, it's yours."

"News needs more authenticity."

"We have no contradiction on this point," Pollock said. "Appropriate reasoning and assumptions are necessary."

"I'm going to doubt your motives." Silver habitually scratched the manuscript paper with his fingers, "Why do you want to fight against two people whose occupations are on the margins of society?"

"The first rule of trading is to ask no questions, and I think that cliché still holds true." Pollock began pacing up and down the room.

"Yes, but if it comes to my own safety, that's a different story."

"What do you mean?" Pollock paused.

"I don't care what you guys are planning, but it won't cost me my job or even a lawsuit."

"Mr. Silver, you still don't quite understand what is the most pressing security issue you face." Pollock walked to his desk, put his hands on the tabletop, and whispered, "Before you gave the Star The so-called truth-revealing things written by the Daily News are enough for us to reward you with a bullet as a manuscript fee. We could have cooperated for a long time."

"You don't know journalists, my friend." Silver replied ironically to this threatening gesture, "We don't rely on any side, so I can't guarantee long-term cooperation."

"Well, let's talk about this one time, then," said Pollock. "If you do well this time, we'll settle the matter. It's up to you whether you have a lawsuit or not."

"As far as the information we currently have, this level of writing is already the limit."

"Then go gather information."

"What?" Silver's fingers paused on the manuscript paper, "You mean to ask me to interview him?"

"An interview with her. It's not up to me to remind you how much this can unearth. A young woman who rents herself in London with her teacher steals from a celebrity party and is rescued by London detectives, far-fetched. ..."

"It can't stop me from worrying that she's going to shoot me on some sensitive issue."

"Do not make jokes."

Silver flashed a practiced smile.

"Answer within a week?"

"Don't rush. Go now and she'll give you a bullet."

"Okay then." Silver sat down again, showing a lazy expression, "To be honest, sir, is there someone who will offer you a higher price?"

Pollock glanced at him.

"It was a serious story with ups and downs, but for some reason it became too light-hearted and flat. We have an obligation to do our part to make it happen, otherwise it would be dull."

"That's our specialty," Silver said.

Hattie Dolan's residence in London.

"I don't see why you didn't tell me. There was no news for almost a year, and then popped up at Hilda's party."

Both young women laughed.

"You have to explain why Hilda didn't tell me."

"That's not a surprise." A slightly hoarse female voice said.

"My lord bought your whole business?"

"Yes, including debts. The property my brother wants to inherit does not include creditors."

"He has nothing now."

"It's better than having a lot of debt."

The future Lady of St. Simon poured Nightingale a cup of tea.

"There seems to be some doubts about the banquet? Have you found out who it is?"

There was no answer for a while.

"Angela, if you need to keep it secret, you don't have to..."

"A man none of us could have imagined."

"As long as it's not a misunderstanding."

"Definitely not." Nightingale held the teacup and shook the heat lightly. "I'm sure it's her."

"It's sad," Hatty said sympathetically. "Is there any proof?"

"There is no definite evidence. To be honest, I don't believe that anyone will harm others for no reason. If there is a special reason, if she is threatened, she can say it."

"If only things were that simple," Hatty said. "You think too much and your tea's going cold."

"Tell me, am I different from before?" Nightingale looked up and saw his own shadow in Hatty's vanity mirror.She combed her hair in unprecedented detail today, and she still wears that crystal.

"Nobody knows what you're going to be like, let alone anyone else," said Hatty, adding a candy bar to herself. "I never dreamed of becoming like this when I was in London. My mother said I wasn't married yet. My lord, it is exactly the same as the kind of noble lady people hate."

"No." Nightingale was still turning the teacup in his hand, "I don't hate you."

fragment four

Bothwell Hotel.

"The speed of action is well-deserved." A mysterious and alluring smile, "Because you stayed for a second longer because of curiosity, you found it."

"You don't have to be overly surprised by a certain professional quality, that's too demeaning of yourself." The ice-like calmness is the opposite of the fire-like charm on the opposite side. "Miss Adler never left London at all."

"No." She looked at the other party, "but why do you say that? Maybe I'll be back a long time ago, you don't know."

"No, I know you didn't get on that ship. When I met Robert, I saw a delicate perfume bottle on the dressing table, and more than half of it was useless. It's your perfume. That woman doesn't need to have a strong fragrance. You Women don't forget expensive perfumes when they pack."

The other fiddled with his turquoise ring.The hands were slender and soft, with smooth skin, not exactly like that woman.Those hands are the hands that ride the horse and hold the gun.

"I've never seen a lady throw perfume away when packing, except for your little girl who can't say no."

The detective smiled slightly as if in a trance.

"Miss may be prejudiced against her."

"No. I admire her courage. A seventeen or eighteen-year-old girl is working alone as a trainee detective in London, and her parents still let her... live with the teacher." The suddenly low voice was suggestive, The woman in black is wearing heavy makeup, reminiscent of a dark underground fire.

"Neither she nor you, sir, have completely ignored the gossip in this big city. Even a woman of my status can't say that she can't take such pressure seriously. Read those creepy books, Writing poetry, running around the streets of London in men's coats, I don't know how you teach your girls to..."

A crisp sound of glass interrupted Iris' words.Holmes looked up at her with a smile, and picked out of the wine glass a bullet which had fallen into it as if by magic.

"What were you doing at the Hopkins' house?"

"Can't you just pass by? If my sister is in London, Hopkins will also invite her. If you have to ask, maybe there is something you will be interested in." Iris frowned slightly, "I saw a girl there An acquaintance, who belonged to the professor. Then he went into the Hopkins house."

"What was he like?"

"Wear a servant's uniform."

"I see."

"No more questions?"

"No. Thank you very much, Miss Adler."

"Nothing, Mr. Holmes. How is the boy's gun?"

"Unless the probability of life being threatened exceeds 50.00%, I forbid her to use it."

Iris smiled, took a sip of his wine.

"How is your sister?"

Iris paused for a moment while placing the cup.She looked up at Holmes opposite, her gray eyes were calm as usual.

"Very good. Godfrey is an honest man. Although I have always doubted whether his ability is suitable for my sister, I even doubt that she will love him, but..." She laughed suddenly, and used her ring with her backhand Knocking on the wine glass made a crisp sound.

"I know it's absurd for a woman like me to discuss this issue with a man like my husband. But I think love has nothing to do with being good at the same field, but with a certain style, quality, and even feeling."

"It's ridiculous. Nothing reliable."

The woman squinted her eyes, showing a cat-like expression.

"This is the field of your aversion, Mr. Holmes. But since you are not good at it, I may say a few words. What is reliable? Beauty? All men grow old. Wisdom? There are too many wise men in the world. Sometimes I only love one."

Holmes looked at his glass, not stirring a drop.

"Why, are you so free to talk about this today?" Iris said sarcastically.

"It's just that some woman likes to bring up the subject, and I don't have the heart," said Holmes.

The author has something to say: it is pure helplessness to write this chapter like this. There are several places to explain, and none of them can make up a chapter.It feels a bit like watching a movie (￣y￣)~* By the way, I’m watching the Rathbone version of the movie again today.I was in a state of intoxication while writing.