[Sherlock Holmes] The Legend of the Nightingale

(Manuscript by Dr. Watson)

It's almost over.After investigation, Dr. Trevelyan was the son of the bank robber who committed suicide that year, and the murder was for revenge.But there is one problem that we still don't understand, who actually directed the murder.The person who silenced Dr. Trevelyan should have been across the street at the time, but he was not caught. Scotland Yard will have to conduct self-criticism when it returns.The identity of the "mentor" that Holmes refers to is temporarily unknown.We don't say it on the surface, but we actually keep this matter in our hearts.

Dr. Trevelyan's death was almost identical to that of the footman, fate, if you will.The troublesome name of Brook Street could be gone forever.Aside from Nightingale's frustration at feeling that he was of no use, the ending was fine.For the next week, there were only a few daily chores.Of course, the daily life on Baker Street is sometimes not as peaceful as a case.

There was a piano in the house, but before the nightingale came only Mrs. Hudson, who had no time to play the piano, could play it.After the nightingale came, the century-old war between the piano and the violin broke out in the family.The effect is homely horror.

As soon as I got home from get off work and walked in, before I saw these two people, I heard the following conversation being yelled across the living room:

"Dear Nightingale, may I ask you to stop playing the Turkish March? I can't hear what I'm playing at all."

"That's not because you played 'Pathetic' first. I wanted to play something milder."

"Very well, Miss Nightingale, then stop the piano and listen to 'Pathetic' for a while."

"Thanks, no, I think the piano is louder than the violin."

"Would you like to try it on?"

"It's been a long time since I tried!"

"Happy to accompany!"

The roar of the piano and the shrill scream of the violin erupted at the same time, and the ceiling shook.Coming home to a house like this after a long day at work, my brain is going to explode.I called Mrs. Hudson twice at the top of my lungs, but no one answered, even the landlord ran away.I sat in the living room and poured a cup of tea.

"I ask you two to stop for a minute," I yelled, "and then the neighbors must come!"

The two stopped in a tacit understanding, but still no one came out.I took a sip of tea.

"Why can't you play together? Like Bach Gounod's Ave Maria, piano and violin."

I tried to sound softer, but the precious peace was broken in no time.

"Sorry, I don't know how to play "Ave Maria." Nightingale's high-spirited voice.

"Holmes, you will never..."

"If I let you down, neither will I." Holmes said coldly.

My last effort before the sound of the bombing was also in vain.I sighed, packed up my things and prepared to hide, even if I went to the club to play cards for a while.As soon as I opened the door, I saw Mrs. Dole, the landlord next door, standing at the door.

Great, the neighbors really came.

"It's great, you can still hear the knock on the door." The landlady said bitterly.I forced a wry smile.Believe me, Mrs. Dole, I never would have known to open the door if I hadn't happened to be going out too.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Dole, I have to go out now."

"Going out? You don't need it!" She had to yell loudly to hear what she was saying, "Let's get rid of the noise in your house first!"

"I..." I seem to be the only person in the house who has nothing to do with the noise. "Mrs. Dole, if you can get them to stop, it's over. Otherwise I can't help it."

"It's so unreasonable! Doctor Watson, you can ask the police to solve the disturbance like this, and you will be fined!"

"Mrs. Dole, I..."

"If you can't do anything, I'll call the police and arrest you!"

"I……"

"If you don't make compensation, I will refuse to pay future medical expenses!"

"I……"

"If you affect my tenants and my business, I will find Mrs. Hudson and ask her to increase the rent to compensate me!"

"I……"

"That's it, Dr. Watson, you can figure it out yourself!"

Mrs. Dole turned her head and left, leaving me standing in the doorway, tongue-tied and motionless for a long time.The duet in the room continued.I wasn't in the mood to go to any club anymore, so I went back to the living room and thought about it.At that moment the door opened and Mrs. Hudson entered.

"I saw Mrs. Dole, she doesn't seem very happy?"

I don't need to explain.Before she finished speaking, Mrs. Hudson knew the answer to the question by hearing.

"Ha, I see. It's not easy to clean up these two."

I watched, dumbfounded, as Mrs. Hudson gracefully took off her shawl, hung it on a coat hook, walked to the living room door, and cleared her throat.A roar comparable to a female aria resounded through the sky:

"Mr. Holmes, Miss Nightingale! I have decided to raise the rent!"

There was an instant silence in the room.

The sudden silence made me tinnitus, so I put my hand on my forehead.

"Mrs. Hudson, are you serious?" I whispered. "It's none of my business..."

"Why don't you have anything to do?" Mrs. Hudson gave me a blank look. "If the rent is really raised, you can just spend money to buy quiet."

Mrs. Hudson walked away.I stood for a moment in the drawing-room, took another sip of the tea, and then went into Holmes' room.

"Sorry, Holmes."

"Ok?"

"Ah."

"Give me back the violin, Watson."

"No, it's a matter of life and death."

"I'm not kidding you."

"I'm not kidding either."

"Why do you ignore her?"

"I can't take the piano."

"..."

At least our place is less noisy at night.But when Nightingale played the same ballad for three hours, Mrs. Hudson announced that the rent would be raised again.

"I beg you to find something else to do," said I. "The rent increase is more than we can bear, and what Holmes is paying is the limit. You can keep the teacher out of Baker Street straight away if you keep playing like this." out."

Nightingale packed up the score helplessly and sent it back to her own storage room.I thought she would come back with a book, but no, she came back with something to talk about.

"Miss Dolan will come tomorrow," Nightingale said.

"Who?"

"Henrietta Dolan, we call her Hattie."

"Oh, I remember, that girl from San Francisco." In case Holmes didn't remember, I explained something for her. "A friend of the Addams's. She's been living in London for the past six months. Have you invited her?"

"Yes. Just to sit and sit, not to eat here."

"I'll go out tomorrow." Sherlock Holmes was sitting on the sofa boringly smoking a cigarette, as if he wasn't listening at all, but now he answered her precisely.

"She's a very nice person," Nightingale said meaningfully, "she's very gentle and quiet."

"I'll be back the day after tomorrow."

"But I told her about my teacher and... I didn't say anything."

"Say." Holmes looked at her.Her eyes rolled.

"I told her that my teacher Holmes and my friend Dr. Watson would be at home."

"It's not over." A firm conclusion.

Nightingale sighed.

"I'm sorry," she said sullenly, "but I didn't say anything too extreme. I just... just told her about the previous case."

"and also."

"I said you took evidence very carefully."

"wrong."

"I said you can tell who the murderer is at a glance..."

"and also."

"I said the way you inspected the scene was charming..."

"And yet you didn't even go in when I checked the scene."

"Ah... I've seen it before."

"and also."

"Wait, why do I think you want to hear it?"

"Don't interrupt, just keep talking."

"Then it's not what I said. Her eyes lit up when she heard this, and she said that she was very interested in the detective and wanted to meet you. I'll tell her that we are all in Baker Street tomorrow and we can come to visit you."

I have been laughing for a long time.Holmes looked away from Nightingale, took a puff of cigarette easily, and squinted at me.I managed to catch a sly gleam in his eyes and a smile that lingered for less than a second at the corner of his mouth.

"I hope you don't take me out to show off, although this is a common problem at your age." When he spoke again, he regained his serious expression and his voice was low.But Nightingale, like me, saw his flashing smile.She didn't miss this opportunity.

"But now I'm charged with two crimes. Going out to show off someone else's qualifications and breaking my word. I'm telling the truth anyway, unless you deny it."

"It's really nothing." I said. "It's just young women's curiosity about legendary magical characters. You can stay here tomorrow without saying a word, and..." I suddenly had an idea, "Use this as a reason to blackmail her into taking the dominant position in music Hand it over."

"Deal?" Holmes cast a casual glance at Nightingale.

"A deal," she said.

Thankfully, it's more comfortable to listen to twelve hours of master-level violin.Holmes jumped up, rolled over from the back of the sofa, and disappeared through the door with agility.

"The problem is that I didn't tell him where I hid the violin." For a moment I wondered.

"Hiding Sherlock Holmes' things? You give it up." Nightingale seemed to use the tone I often use.

Not long after, Holmes came back with the piano case.At this time, I had an interesting thought. Is he so happy now because of Qin, or because of what she said?Our haughty friend never easily reveals his emotional turmoil at the words of others.He rested the qin on his shoulders, gently placed the bow on the strings like the final knife to a fragile work of art, and paused for two seconds.

"Beethoven, or Mozart?" he said.

I usually answer this question, because our Miss Nightingale knows almost nothing about violin music.But before I could speak, she answered suddenly and quickly:

"Paganini No.20 Four Caprices."

I'm glad I'm not drinking water.Holmes lowered his bow resignedly.

"Watson, you taught her?"

"No," I said, "have you ever practiced?"

"Not yet. Nightingale, get another one."

"Then you can do whatever you want."

"I know you can't say the second one."

With both hands, Nightingale drew a conductor's finale gesture in front of her face.

"Okay, okay. You are really casual. I would listen to you playing the violin, really."

According to the usual practice of this pair of teachers and students, this is a straightforward surrender.In the flowing bow, I once again saw his smile slipping through the smooth melody.He wasn't looking at anything, nor was he thinking about anything.Nightingale sat on a chair and stared at Holmes.I'm pretty sure she didn't think anything of it either.The picture before me, of the violinist and his rapt audience, might have been transformed into a moving masterpiece by Michelangelo.

The author has something to say: I’ve been serious for so long, today I’ll buy a cute one~~ Paganini’s No.20 Four Caprices mentioned by Nightingale is the most difficult piece of Paganini’s piece, and it is also recognized as the most difficult piece in the world. One of the most difficult violin pieces.You can search and listen to it. In fact, I don’t really appreciate classical music because I have a low level of appreciation for classical music. I just want to feel it.Saying that Monday is finally over...