[Sherlock Holmes] The Legend of the Nightingale

(God's perspective)

"So my tricks are not so-- tricks, Mr. Manfred?"

The dark-haired woman in a dark blue coat put her hands in her pockets, stood upright, and looked straight at the man who was two heads taller than her.Manfred froze for a second, then hastily pulled out a gun from his pocket, and held it up to her eyes.

"I don't want to hit women, Miss Nightingale, please keep your mouth shut and don't meddle in your own business."

The young woman, who had been studying his clumsy movements, couldn't hide a sideways black eye.

"Mr. Manfred, allow me to ask this question: Have you ever shot anyone?"

Manfred was already a little unsteady in holding the gun, and he couldn't hold it even more after hearing this question.The woman showed a warm smile like ivory.

"Mr. Manfred, it's just a case of larceny, although one of the smarter ones I've taken on, efficient and leaving no trace. We admire such minds. Do you understand that I'm not here to give anyone Looking for trouble, but only to find the criminal, and hope that the harm to everyone is minimized-especially based on the information I have now, the money that was taken by you can be recovered, there is no need to escalate to violence and murder , and put you in prison for the rest of your life. Mr. Manfred, can I trust you to put the gun down and not let it go off? Because if not..."

Manfred fell directly in front of her and lay motionless on the ground.McMurdo took out his gloves and slipped them back on over his fingers, looking weary.

"Otherwise my partner would have been forced to use violence, and I assure you, he's quite an expert at it."

The American detective watched the young woman finish speaking to the unconscious thief helplessly, full of sarcasm.

"High society vocabulary. The whole thing is the same as our gentleman detective."

There is actually one person in this world who can make Angela Nightingale calmly listen to this joke after three years.This American-style tough guy was able to talk about some details of the past in a calm manner at first, such as the way Holmes stood up in front of the window and picked up his pipe, and the way he sat in front of the fire and smiled back at everyone.When he said these words, he was either expressionless or with a nostalgic smile.While Iris was still on the couch comforting the weeping Mrs. Hudson (although the landlady at one point had the attitude of wishing someone would get rid of the detective as soon as possible to relieve her), the doctor's eyes were still moist.These words were so plain and even rough, because McMurdo, who had little education, could not embellish words, and he said these things without any intention.He would only suddenly remember to keep silent when he saw Nightingale.Nightingale, Nightingale, who did not shed a tear in front of anyone, stood in front of the window without saying a word.Then in Manchester they decided to get back together and never talk about the past.One day a year later, Nightingale was at the crime scene for less than an hour and found out the murderer from among the people present, and recounted the whole reasoning process neatly. There was a chuckle in the middle:

"My colleague in London really shouldn't have retired so early. He should have seen this with his own eyes."

This reckless, almost rude public joke surprised Nightingale at first, and even forgot to be sad, but McMurdo remained as comfortable as if he had forgotten what he had said, so she realized that he didn't mean it at all.Jack McMurdo can joke about his dead brother - only he can, of course, and others will get a broken nose.Nightingale forcibly got used to the relaxed atmosphere which she thought was extremely rude.Maybe it's for professional reasons.She now knew for herself what Holmes meant by "the grains of sand in a delicate instrument."Feelings rushing all the way and memories popping into your head just when you need to concentrate and clear your mind can be devastating, like an insomniac trying to fall asleep and unable to clear his head.It took a lot of time and energy to get over the emotional surge she felt every time she picked up a magnifying glass or knelt down to scrape cigarette ash, but otherwise she would have simply given up on the profession and gone back to being a teacher or getting married.Neither of these two choices can be considered bad, and it is said to be much better than her current precarious situation, but there are certain things that make her unwilling to give up. reasons.And she now has the most amazing partner and friend in all of Britain.She was alone the first time she walked into Baker Street.

"I suggest you study 'high society rhetoric,'" said Nightingale, crouching down and grabbing Manfred's feet to help McMurdo lift him aside. "People who speak Queen's English have a good voice." .”

"Thank you for your kind irony, Miss Nightingale."

"No, I'm serious. In the past two days, I have found that my words are a bit wrong."

"If you're speaking our jargon, that's a good thing. If it's my accent, thanks again for your kind sarcasm. Do you want me to tie him up when you go to the police?"

"You can, Jack."

The habit of being called by first names rather than "Mr. McMurdo" was also the result of long hours with these two free-spirited people.Nightingale is also very clear that the "Nightingale" in McMurdo's mouth is still not her surname, but "Nightingale".

When the police officers escorted Manfred, who was looking bleak, into the carriage, Nightingale and McMurdo kept a low profile and did not mix with the police, but they still inevitably attracted everyone's attention.The eccentric pairing of married McMurdo and bachelor Nightingale inevitably invites whispers, which Nightingale worried about at first.Later, she found that McMurdo was even more strangely indifferent to these matters. Even if someone asked him about his relationship with Nightingale in vague terms, Nightingale vehemently and severely rejected it, and he only laughed it off as a joke. .McMurdo explains this:

"There are thousands of girls in Chicago who want to get involved with me by any means. There is no time to clarify one by one. Fortunately, I am a well-behaved person, Miss Nightingale."

And if you don't behave, Mrs. McMurdo will sit in the living room with six rounds loaded and wait for you to come home.Nightingale thought.

The most effective way to dispel rumors is of course Iris-now Iris McMurdo.No one who had met Mrs. McMurdo ever mentioned any rumors about Nightingale and her partner, because they themselves thought it so stupid.The fact itself seems silly - no one who cares about harmony and aesthetics will not when a Chicago detective in a suit of cheap cigarettes, tea bags and quackery stands next to a clean and well-spoken female London detective. Think of connecting them in ways that go beyond the job.

"Aesthetic point of view, a strange term." McMurdo snorted. "To be honest, I can't understand such things at all."

"Then we can make fun of you with words you don't understand in the future."

"When I say I don't understand it, I mean it's useless."

"What are you two arguing about?" Iris came in with an afternoon tea tray, saw McMurdo sitting on the table and Nightingale squatting on the back of the sofa, and wanted to laugh out loud. "Do you know what an aural disaster slang and Queen's English can be?"

"I suggested that Jack fix his accent, but he refused."

"Who admits that the only English you speak is English?"

"Then please explain why it is called 'English' language?"

"Because it's not Irish, and it's not Scottish."

Iris let out a long sigh and put down the tea tray.

"Know what my biggest concern about marrying you is, Jack?"

"What is it, baby?"

"It's to take care of a baby older than me, Jack!"

Let's put the short stories of these parents first.

The Manchester police asked Nightingale and McMurdo to go back to the police station to complete the formalities, and the two came out of the police station in the afternoon.As popular legends, photos of the two have often appeared in newspapers, and every time they appear in public, they will attract the attention of many people.As soon as he walked out of the gate of the police station, a little boy dragged his mother to stop to look at them. An old man leaning on the light pole raised his head from the pocket book he had just bought and adjusted his glasses.The two gentlemen on the side of the road stopped talking at this time.The ladies covered up more, covering the small half of their faces with gloves and whispering to each other, but from their expressions and giggles, it can often be inferred that they are commenting on Nightingale's unfeminine attire. Once someone was finally able to witness London's Nightingale expressing disappointment with her looks.When you appear in the newspaper as a positive person upholding justice, your photo will often look much better than your own.For these temporary audiences, Nightingale would usually pretend not to see, McMurdo would pretend not to see when he was in a bad mood, and when he was crazy, he would even wave to those who were staring at him closely.Like today.

"I didn't expect that catching a thief who rummaged through other people's stuff at the bottom of the box would be so popular."

"There's no fake antique there, Jack."

"If you ask me nothing but gold bars is worth the risk."

"Being serious," said Nightingale, "why didn't we see this guy the first time we saw these people. He's a novice and supposedly freaked out when he saw us."

"You should remember that he has been hiding in an inconspicuous corner. It's just that everyone is nervous enough to infer anything based on this."

"No, I think something was missed—or it was not discovered in time. No fingerprints or footprints were left after wearing gloves. Even if there is a strong clue, we don't need to trick him out like this." Nightingale Er frowned slenderly.Her pensive expression was once hailed as "the birth of inspiration" by a newspaper in Manchester. The accompanying picture is a close-up shot with amazing light and shadow effects snapped by a photographer. Her drooping eyes and smooth forehead probably attracted most of the attention. , so that the problem of being thin will not show up.

"That's not my specialty." McMurdo took out a cigar from his pocket, lit a match on his sleeve, and habitually asked the person next to him if he wanted one—Nightingale of course refused.At this moment, an old voice sounded from behind them, at first it was not too loud to attract Nightingale's attention, but the speaker insisted on finishing:

"May I take the liberty to remind you, miss, that as it was a bit of a struggle to open that ancient chest, Mr. Manfred's shoe prints were not very noticeable. If you happened not to be wearing spectacles at the time, it would be easy to miss it." .”

Nightingale turned her head suddenly, but she didn't see who was talking to her.She looked around and saw the back of the old gentleman who was reading just now walking along the street with a cane. His back was hunchbacked, his legs and feet were not very flexible, but he was walking in a hurry.

"Who was that just now?" McMurdo asked through his teeth, biting his cigar.

"A stranger. The old gentleman you saw at the door just now. Do you remember what he looked like?"

"Uh...not very good-looking, his hair is all white, he wears a pair of big glasses, and his complexion may have some chronic diseases, that's all I remember. Why do you ask?"

"Because I only know one person who can talk like that." Nightingale replied.

The author has something to say: The return for me consists of two people.Nightingale and Holmes.This chapter mainly refers to the nightingale.