Sherlock Holmes

The shouts from downstairs woke up Nopa on the second floor.

As a genius with an absolute talent for machinery, on the eve of the popularization of electricity, she naturally began to acquire all knowledge about electricity. During this time, her brain was running at high intensity all the time. As for my young lady, because she was involved in the Ripper case, she hadn't really had a good sleep for several days. Although she didn't want to admit it, after Sherlock came yesterday, she seemed to feel a sense of security for a long time, and she was actually on the workbench. Just fell asleep.

Now when I heard the sound downstairs, I woke up suddenly, wiped the saliva from my mouth, and quickly came to the window and looked down.

Seeing the large group of people blocking Sherlock at the door, she frowned, and then suddenly thought of something, her eyes that had not yet fully awakened from sleep suddenly became much clearer, and became more and more clear. Shocked, his stare became wider and wider, and finally he turned around quickly and rushed downstairs.

Then I saw Nightingale sitting in the hall, looking at the empty dinner plate in a daze.

Nopa swallowed.

"That guy, just went out?"

Nightingale looked at Nopa's expression and nodded.

"What did you two do last night?" Nopa actually knew deep down in his heart that his young lady didn't know what to do, but she still asked extremely cautiously.

"Let's chat."

"Just chat?"

"if not?"

"Forehead"

Yes, what else?

In fact, the security personnel outside the door also wanted to know, besides chatting, what else did they do? But they definitely won't ask, and if they do ask, they won't believe any answer.

They only believe in their own eyes. This group of professionals with extremely strong skills and means in investigation, evidence collection, infiltration, anti-tracking, etc., since Sherlock entered the villa last night, they have taken the initiative to work overtime, take automatic rotations, and sacrifice themselves. During their rest time, they suppressed their sleepiness and stared at the entire villa. All they knew was that the guy in front of them had stayed inside for the entire night.

Therefore, even after Captain Gregson gave an order, the group did not immediately disperse. Instead, they continued to stare at Sherlock's ordinary face, observing his expression, his collar, and the cuffs of his cuffs. Folds, trying desperately to deduce something.

A few seconds passed like this, and suddenly, someone whistled extremely abruptly.

A stone struck a thousand waves, and at this moment, the whole courtyard was in a state of shock. It was hard to imagine that anything could cause both curses and applause to appear at the same time. Someone behind the crowd seemed extremely angry and wanted to rush over to the guy in front of the door. A punch, but it made the people around him scream excitedly and stop him. There was a middle-aged search team member in his 40s nearby who cried loudly, but there was continuous warm applause. In short, it was chaos!

Sherlock stared stiffly at this strange scene. He didn't understand. These people were all outstanding elites in the Tribunal and the Imperial Bureau of Investigation. Could it be that they were thinking about all this nonsense? Another cheesy idiot drama?

The serial novels written in the cracks of third-rate tabloids have been scolded to death for a long time, and now these imperial elites are actually taking the initiative to make up for it themselves?

"We were just chatting," Sherlock explained.

But the voice was almost instantly drowned out by the noise. Even if some people in the front row heard it, no one paid attention to him.

Sherlock frowned and simply ignored these guys with brain problems and walked down the steps in front of the villa. The crowd in front of them made a way with a tacit understanding without any command. Come, I even looked at some people on both sides who had been on the battlefield. They had serious faces, standing in the most standard military posture, with a solemn posture, but their hands were clapping loudly, as if they were welcoming someone. A powerful warrior who fought on the battlefield returned to his homeland.

Of course, this is the scene in the front row. Those in the back row who were yelling abuse had already been pinned to the ground by their companions using the most professional grappling techniques. From time to time, some heart-rending wails and voices of persuasion could be heard. .

Sherlock lowered his head slightly, quickened his pace, and walked out of the crowd without much effort. Then he saw Hopkins sitting on a chair in front of him, with his legs crossed and a look of 'sit back and watch. The world was in conflict, and Judge Natasha standing next to him was already staring at Sherlock like a monster.

"Don't get me wrong!" Sherlock explained.

"I didn't say a word, how did you know I was misunderstanding something?" Hopkins said with a smile, using the rhetorical technique of asking criminals under investigation.

Suddenly, an angry soldier on the side shouted: "Even if it is a misunderstanding! I will never forgive you!"

Before he finished speaking, several people around him roughly covered their mouths and dragged him into the crowd.

…

This scene lasted for about 15 minutes before finally dispersing under Gregson's roar again.

Sherlock returned to the barracks. During this period, he saw Watson, who smiled and said: 'I wouldn't be surprised at all if you were murdered in the past few days. ’

He ignored this guy, and even felt that he had never been so embarrassed that night when he rushed into the ancient Roman city.

In the next few days, every time he walked in the courtyard, he could feel countless eyes staring at him, some with weird admiration, some with obvious anger, and some as soon as they saw him coming. , immediately stood in a military posture and gave a solemn military salute.

Under certain circumstances, people only believe what they want to believe, so all Sherlock's explanations seemed so feeble. In short, four days were spent like this, during which Sherlock spent most of his time. Wandering around the villa, I checked the church where the pope was from time to time. I found that the guards were not relaxed at all and everything was business as usual. However, the banker had no way to contact him since the vault door was closed. Then The stage actress was nowhere to be found, and everything seemed to be going according to plan.

No one could imagine how the Ripper could kill someone in this situation.

And on the fifth day, the sunset was about to sink into the horizon, and the thin night was pouring into the long street. The fog and street lights illuminated everything like a dream.

A phone call suddenly rang in the barracks of Nightingale Villa.

Hopkins picked up the phone and put it to his ear. He didn't speak, just listened quietly, but his face became increasingly gloomy. Finally, he took a deep breath and hung up the phone.

He raised his head and looked at Sherlock who was sitting on the sofa in the office smoking. He calmed down and said:

"Pope Nadine Bellew should be dead."