Sherlock Holmes
Chapter 487 Place of refuge
Ms. Irene Adler is a legendary person.
She is so legendary that 90% of the people in the empire don't know her, let alone connect her with the mysterious bar in every city. Only those powerful figures in the business world are qualified to know what this woman of unknown age has. What a terrible business acumen. Of course, even so, no one knows how many industries she has under her hands, let alone how much money she has.
Money and power complement each other most of the time. People who stand at the top of power will definitely not be poor, and rich people also have more or less rights.
But Eileen is different. She is a pure businessman, so pure that she is a little weird, because she has never been involved in any political power, and even deliberately avoids power. All her actions are done with money, and she never owes a favor, even if it is... When it comes to developing railways, they don't go to the officials of the imperial transportation department to get involved. Instead, they use huge amounts of money to squeeze out all other competitors, and carry out the project naturally and without any opponents. Put it in your bag.
Moreover, all the steel materials, workers, mountain excavation, bridge construction, etc. used during this period were all completed by her.
Because she has a steel factory, a large number of workers, a drilling machine team, and a bridge designer under her own control.
Although it seems so ridiculous that this arrangement is all in the name of one person, the fact is so incredible. Anyway, Erin has been adhering to the concept of not getting involved in politics for many years, which makes her debt-free. Qing Qing, she can roam around every city in the empire unscrupulously, and do whatever she wants. No one can force her to do something she doesn't want to do, because she doesn't need to look at anyone's face.
Even if the entire empire is looking for a vicious criminal, she can already feel at ease waiting for that person to come to her in her own bar box.
Fortunately, that person could only come to him, because the rest of the people related to Sherlock were either unable to show up due to their status, or had been arrested.
At this moment, in the interrogation room of the London Public Security Bureau, an interrogator was glaring at the handsome man in front of him. The pale light shone on the man's too-good-looking face. The interrogator initially thought that this face was too soft. , then this person's state of mind is probably like that of a woman, who can cry and tell everything she knows after just a few scares.
But unexpectedly, the guy in front of him completely ignored all interrogation techniques, as if he was chatting with him.
"Where were you on the 15th a month ago?"
Under the pale light, the interrogator slapped the table, looked at the person in front of him like a hungry wolf, and asked again.
"I forgot." Watson looked at his nails and said lightly.
"Damn! You were getting married that day! We talked about this issue yesterday!"
"Oh? Really?" Watson seemed to suddenly remember this matter: "Please forgive me, I am a person with a rich emotional life. You can tell from my face, right? So for me , Marriage is just a formality, I can be forgiven for forgetting."
It was like a punch hitting cotton again. The guy in front of me clearly showed no resistance, no initiative, and no cooperation.
"I want you to describe to me in detail what [Sherlock Holmes] did at your wedding that day?"
"Who? Holmes? I don't know."
"Damn it! It's Holmes, he's your best man!!!" The interrogator's tone changed with anger.
"Oh? So that's it. But as I said just now, I don't even care about my wedding date, so of course I can find my best man at will."
If you just search casually, you can find a hero of the empire at that time to be your best man?
The interrogator knocked on the table angrily, feeling that the guy in front of him was treating himself as a retard! But he has no way to torture him yet. This is the Public Security Bureau of London, not a blood prison. Everything must follow a process.
The next day, it was still the same.
On the third day, it was still the same.
"Where were you on the 15th a month ago?"
The interrogator's spirit seemed to have been severely damaged during the past few days of work. He was now exhausted and even wanted to escape from the room.
"forget."
"As we said yesterday, that day is your wedding."
"You know, but you still ask."
"Do you know Sherlock Holmes? Let me remind you that he is your best man. You live in 221B Baker Street. You have been on the battlefield together."
Watson sighed, seeming to feel bored if he continued like this, so he looked at the interrogator in front of him with pity:
"Sir, it may be hard for you to believe it, but I have worked in this building for six years. My office is in the first corner of the first floor. If you lean back on the chair you are sitting on now, The right hind leg will be slightly shorter by half a centimeter because I have sat in that chair countless times.
I have no ill intentions towards you, so I can tell you clearly, please don't waste your time on me.
I won't say anything.
If you don't believe it, you can torture me in any cruel way you can think of, and when you finally realize that you can't pry my mouth open, just let me go.
I'm tired of staying here.
This is good for you and me."
…
In the month since the arrest warrant was issued to Shylock, the entire empire seemed to be immersed in a strange atmosphere. The hero turned into a criminal overnight. This impact was really big. People were working and studying. All kinds of things in life are full of worry, but people can't tell what they are worried about.
In the city center of Pusher Parish, the door of a high-end apartment was opened. Ms. Milhouse hung the expensive coat on the hanger and turned on the light on the wall.
During this time, the entire empire was immersed in a strange atmosphere. As the most prestigious official newspaper in the empire, the Holy Journal needed to be very cautious at this juncture, and Ms. Milhouse, as the Holy As the president of a newspaper, the pressure on her is unimaginable to normal people.
She was very tired, both physically and mentally, so all she wanted now was to take a good bath and then get some sleep.
But at the moment when the light illuminated the entire room, her eyes suddenly trembled and she almost fell to the ground.
Because on the sofa in his living room, a man was waiting for him with his legs crossed. There was still half a glass of red wine left on the table.
"Excuse me ma'am, I'm really tired of waiting, so I opened a bottle of wine. I hope the price of this bottle is not too shocking."
Although she is a woman in her late 50s, Ms. Milhouse is still the president of the largest newspaper agency in the empire. It took her two seconds to suppress the shock in her heart and said apologetically:
"Unfortunately, Mr. Sherlock, your bottle of wine is the most expensive bottle in my collection."
"Uh" Sherlock looked at the wine bottle awkwardly, with a puzzled look on his face. In fact, he still couldn't understand how something like wine could have such an outrageous price.
After a moment, he drank the wine in the glass with a wry smile: "Okay, but please believe me, what I am about to tell you next will definitely be more valuable than this bottle of wine."
Ms. Milhouse tried her best to keep her face calm. A fugitive wanted by the entire empire suddenly appeared in her home. It was definitely not to steal wine.
"Please speak." She walked up to Sherlock.
Of course she is not afraid that the other party will kill her, because if this man wants to use violence against her, she will not be able to escape no matter what. Now she just wanted to hear what kind of things could make the man in front of her come to her home regardless of danger.
"Actually, it's nothing new." Sherlock didn't sell it: "It's just that the entire empire is looking for me now, saying that I am the murderer of Emperor Augustine."
"You want to refute this accusation and defend yourself?" Milhouse's eyes lit up.
"No, I admit that I did kill Emperor Augustine."
"." The president blinked his eyes, looking a little dazed, but for the next second.
"But at the same time, I also want to accuse the former emperor of betraying the people of the empire, persecuting candidates for the Transposition Ceremony, manipulating politics, and more than a dozen crimes." Sherlock said, taking out a small disc: " This is the audio I recorded a few days ago. It contains my own account of the whole story of the Augustine assassination case, including the investigation process of the London airship crash case, as well as the evidence that Augustine the Great tried to murder the Son and Miss Nightingale. .”
A drop of sweat lay down on Ms. Milhouse's forehead. She was glad that her hair was permed in big waves, which covered the traces of sweat well.
In fact, as a journalist, she has known about many unknown events over the years, including the many ups and downs caused by Emperor Augustine in the empire. However, she never thought that one day, the evidence of these events would be revealed. Put it in front of yourself.
She looked at the tape and was silent for a long time. Finally: "To be honest, I'm a little nervous, why would you give me something like this?"
"Because someone once promised me that the truth of this matter would eventually be made public one day, but now that person seems to be unable to fulfill his promise, and I have become a fugitive. From this point of view, I want to announce the truth of this matter to the people of the empire, and the simplest and most direct way is to publish it through the Holy Journal."
The street lights outside the window illuminate the street very brightly. Milhouse's apartment is on the fourth floor, not far from the street. You can faintly hear some people who are unwilling to go home outside the window, holding flags and shouting: "We The truth is needed, we believe Mr. Holmes, and we oppose persecution!”
But soon, some sirens sounded, and the patrolling police officers began to disperse the parade. During the conflict, there were even several bursts of sharp curses and convulsive wails after being hit with electric batons.
"But Mr. Sherlock, let's not talk about whether the evidence you have is real. You may have realized that even if I really publish these recordings and evidence, the arrest warrant against you will still not be revoked. After all, you admitted it yourself, you really murdered an imperial emperor."
"Oh, you can rest assured on this. I never expected that I could stay in the empire."
"???" Ms. Milhouse frowned. She also worked her way up from a low-level editor and was very keen on the small details hidden between the lines.
She was a little confused as to why the other party said, "I don't expect to stay in the empire."
As if there was nowhere else he could go other than the Empire.
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