[Sherlock Holmes] The Legend of the Nightingale

(God's perspective)

"Lord San Simeon asked you to send the money?" Mammy asked the man standing in front of her, who was dressed in gray and held a top hat, with austere but stern lines, as you found which one from a large bunch of keys. A gentle young gentleman.

"Yes, Sister. As Miss Doran has no relatives in England now, my lord would like to be of more help," said Holmes calmly.

"God bless my lord, and thank him for thinking of the poor lady. May God forgive her sins."

Mammy babbled as she led the way, and Holmes responded at the right moment, and the two of them walked up to the door of Hatty Dolan's ward.

"I don't suggest you go in to see her, sir, because her condition is very unstable. We generally don't allow people who are not very close to visit such a dangerous patient."

"I understand, but it's not fair to poor Miss Dolan, because it means that no one comes to see her up close."

"Yes, sir, there are still people coming to see her."

"Oh? Does she have any other friends in England?"

Mammy responded coolly to the question.

"That's none of your business, sir."

"See what I'm thinking. She does have friends. Is there a girl named Jane who visits her often?"

"No, sir, I have never heard of such a girl."

"Certainly, Mammy, if you think about it. She's a professor's daughter. Taller than Miss Doran, fair-haired and blue-eyed. She comes often."

"No, sir. No one comes here very often. Only the professor comes to see her once in a while. I don't know if he has a daughter. I heard he has only one niece."

"Professor Pfister? The one who teaches Greek, bald and fat?"

"No, sir, it's Professor Moriarty, who teaches mathematics."

"Then maybe I remember wrong? No, it's impossible, that's his niece named Ji Ying, the girl I said, blonde, with a loud voice..."

"I saw his niece only once, about a year or two ago, I don't remember exactly, but it's certainly not what you say. She was not very tall, she was probably brown-haired, and she didn't talk much. I heard that The poor child was born with some intellectual problems, and she had already had a record with us, but the professor was reluctant to keep her here, and finally took her away."

"That's strange, because I clearly remember who told me her name was Jiying."

"Her name is Ann." The nun answered here patiently, and she became a little impatient. "One of our sisters passed by here when she was getting medicine the other day, and she heard the professor call her 'Anjie', or 'Angia'? Anyway, no. Jane."

"Oh, yes, I misremembered, it should be An Jie. Thank you, Mammy."

Holmes said, turning his head and glanced through the bars, with his back to Mammy, as if caring for the mad woman curled up on the bed inside, but in fact so that she would not see his gray eyes, which could not be restrained for a moment and turned cold. .

When you ask someone directly about something, they hold back with suspicion.But when you pretend to be confident and say something that is clearly wrong, they will be eager to correct you and give you the message you want.In this matter, sometimes even the nuns are not exempt.

After leaving the lunatic asylum, Holmes took a detour (or rather a detour) to Watson's clinic.It was the neatly dressed Merry who opened the door. Holmes wanted to laugh but couldn't help it. It turned out that Watson had saved all the money on hiring nurses.

Like the patients, Holmes waited outside the clinic for a long time, and Watson, who had just seen two patients, came out.

"It seems that your business is doing well, old man." Holmes twirled his hat in his hand like a game, "I have been waiting for so long."

"As long as there is no news from you, business will be fine." The doctor said seriously.

"Now I have news."

"Then Merry, we can close the door."

"No, Watson, it's only afternoon now." Holmes stopped the military doctor who was smiling freshly, "I just have something to say."

"Go to the consulting room and tell. Mei Li, if there are patients coming, as long as it is not an emergency, it is said that there are patients who are seeing them, and let them wait for a while."

"Then what kind of patient is good?"

"It's up to you to get sick."

"Does Mr. Holmes like cavities or sprains?"

"Thank you, Mrs. Watson. I like neither."

"We actually forgot that she was still in the lunatic asylum," the doctor sighed. "We didn't even expect the professor to visit her. I thought he had already forgotten about her."

"It seems that the professor is not what you think." Holmes said, "In fact, apart from confirming some things, this trip has not gained much."

"Have you decided to act yourself?" said Watson thoughtfully. "Perhaps it is better this way, but Mycroft has warned that it is also more dangerous."

"There is no choice, Watson. Pollock confessed that several strongholds were empty, and Moriarty held him back by not telling him all the secret places. His leave from Cross College It's not over, not going back to work. We just know he's back in the UK, maybe in London."

"If there are no clues here in Pollock, there are hardly any. How are you going to find them?"

Holmes crossed his fingers and looked down at the doctor.

"After Moriarty's evidence is cleared up, Scotland Yard can search the entire network without you taking any risks."

"I know. But Nightingale may not be able to wait that long."

"Are you worried that she has become a professor ... like Miss Dolan?"

"I hope she doesn't. Otherwise the professor will be the first to let me know."

"Mycroft says the professor is ringing you."

"That's not better."

"Better?" The doctor frowned, "Didn't you say you're going to use yourself as bait again?"

"The ideal situation is as bait. If it is not ideal, it may be a dead end."

"There is no other way?"

"No."

"My God, then do something. For God's sake, you are none other than Holmes!"

"There are other ways, but this is the fastest. We need the fastest."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Yes. It's not a problem." Holmes took out a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Watson. "If something unexpected happens and there is no news from me, let Jack McMurdo cooperate with Scotland Yard and press this address. Find a man in the tavern, and his name is written on it. It must be a surprise attack, and unless what I have just said happens, never disturb this man."

"McMurdo?"

"Miss Adler's."

"I know, I'm just surprised you'd turn to him—no, I mean, you'd trust him," said the doctor just in time.

"Nothing, Watson. He is a good professional detective."

Watson secretly added a sentence for Holmes in his heart: Although he is not as good as me.

"Looking for this person?"

"He might know where I was at that time."

"I don't know."

"Listen, Watson, Moriarty hid the nightingale in a stronghold that even Porlock didn't know about. This place is known only to his close friends. We preliminarily judged that this person was one of them. In the tavern as Moriah It is the medium through which Tee communicates with the outside world. But capturing him now will alarm the professor. The people around the professor are quite loyal to him, and by the time we get the address from this man, they have long since disappeared."

"But if you are caught by them, if you move that person again, the result will be the same. We may not even find you."

"Catching me is the ultimate goal. As long as I fall into their hands, Moriarty will seal up that place just like he did with Nightingale, only more tightly than with her. Only in this way can he keep himself safe, absolutely not Dare to take me to transfer. But don't take it lightly, I can't guarantee that you will get the answer in time."

Watson carefully folded the paper in half.

"I still hope you don't."

"So do I. Don't reveal anything to Merry."

"She won't know."

Holmes stood up. "I know you can't go wrong. Then I'll go first."

Watson also stood up. "You have to be careful."

There was a sly smile on the detective's serious face.

"I'm glad you didn't stop me."

"Actually, I never stopped."

The new year is over.For three days in a row, Holmes would go to the third-rate tavern written on the paper. The color was dark and the behavior was low-key, which concealed the original gentleman's style. He only ordered a glass of wine, sat at the table and drank it with his head down. If there is no table, he will lazily say a few words, and if there is no table, he will leave.Sometimes there will be some so-called entertainment programs, some dancers and showgirls in heavy makeup and long skirts will perform on stage, and the pianist in the bar will play a few small tunes, that's all.

For three days, he was submerged in the smog and the smell of alcohol. He heard countless gossips from the downtown area, family stories, and all the strangers who came and went.It can be said to have gained a lot, and it can also be said to have gained nothing.

But none of that matters.The first turning point occurred on the night of January 1891, 1.Holmes sat silent again in the tavern.On the street outside, a few people who had drunk too much started arguing over a disagreement, which seemed to escalate into a gang fight, and the people in the tavern couldn't help but look at it a few more times.The detective pretended to be bored and raised his head to look outside through the glass window, but in fact kept all his senses on high alert.There was nothing wrong with the people fighting, but he suddenly saw the figure of a woman standing in front of the bar from the reflection of the glass under the bright lights.He didn't feel that the woman looked familiar for many years, and the fashionable coat and carefully braided hair were not like anyone he was familiar with.Then he suddenly noticed that something on her neck reflected the light of the bar, flashing visibly.When she turned her head to look in a certain direction, he seemed to see what it was.

A round piece of amethyst.

Holmes almost forgot to conceal what he was looking for, and looked back sharply.The woman is no longer there.He quickly moved his eyes to the door, only to see a figure walking out in a hurry.Holmes stood up, dropped the remaining half glass of wine, bypassed the table and the waiter, and rushed out after pushing the door open.The people who passed him in the tavern just glanced at him casually, and then continued to drink their own drinks.

Cold air hits us.Several drunkards at the door were pushing each other. One fell to the door, and a group of people rushed forward. Holmes had to take another step back.When he came out again, he only saw the woman's running back quickly disappearing into the dense fog of London night, and she was nowhere to be seen again.

"Hey, buddy, come and judge, do you think this is..."

Holmes roughly pushed aside a man who was shouting at him, reeking of alcohol, turned up his collar, and walked away silently down the street.No one could see clearly in the night, and his gray eyes gradually darkened.

Watson's bad premonition was finally confirmed. After January 1, no one really saw Holmes anywhere in London.

The author has something to say: This chapter has actually been written a long time ago, but the network is not good and the backstage has been unable to upload it, and the publish and save buttons cannot be clicked. Today, I changed to a place with wifi to post it.The author has already done everything possible to hurry up the reunion.