The next morning, Zhang Heng woke up early and grabbed a copy of the record — the case of the lame Ricotte and his hateful wife. If Zhang Heng remembered correctly, this was the first case Sherlock Holmes solved as a detective. It was mentioned in the original work, but there were no details about it.
When Zhang Heng arrived at the dining room, Holmes was already sitting there, enjoying his toast and coffee. The two greeted each other, and Zhang Heng sat down across from him.
Holmes glanced at the things in Zhang Heng's hand. "Oh, this case is quite interesting. Although it wasn't difficult, I had just become a detective at that time. It took me three days to complete the investigation. Now, it only takes me one morning."
Zhang Heng smiled. He did not dislike Holmes's confidence. Perhaps, it was this confidence that made Holmes such a unique character. He was sought after and loved by thousands of readers. In fact, Holmes was a very humble person in his daily life. It was only when it came to his field of expertise that he would proudly patrol his territory like a lion.
After Zhang Heng finished his milk, there was a sudden knock on the door downstairs.
Mrs. Hudson opened the door and saw Gregson standing outside. The anxiety and uneasiness from before had been swept away, and he looked like he was on cloud nine. He floated in like a puff of smoke and shouted at the top of his lungs, "Did you read the morning newspaper?"
"Not yet." Holmes looked at him with interest.
Gregson handed over the Echo in his hand. "You can have a look. It's fresh out of the oven."
Zhang Heng took the newspaper, flipped to the article on the front page, and read it word by word.
The reporter first introduced the unknown female corpse found on the Thames River yesterday, then talked about how Sergeant Gregson's resourcefulness led him to the factory where the female corpse was located and confirmed her identity. The article also mentioned that the police had Mr. Holmes's assistance, but that was all. On the contrary, there were several paragraphs praising Gregson's wisdom and alertness.
Gregson blushed a little when he heard this. "You did give me a lot of help, especially the clue about John's textile factory. However, what you said wasn't entirely correct. And what you said earlier is not the main point … Please continue reading."
Holmes laughed it off, not angry. He seemed to be used to it. In fact, this was why the police in Scotland Yard liked to come to him for help. He didn't care much about fame and fortune, and he wouldn't be angry when the limelight was stolen by the police who handled the case. On the contrary, he was more interested in the strange cases than anything else.
Zhang Heng continued to read. It was said that after Gregson obtained the clue, he immediately rushed to the textile factory with his men and quickly confirmed the identity of the unknown female corpse. Her name was Molly, and a year ago, she came to London from the countryside to seek refuge with her aunt. It was also her aunt who helped her find a job in the textile factory.
Because she wasn't a skilled worker, Molly's salary was pitifully low. However, her daily workload was not light at all. She worked hard, but the money she earned was barely enough to make ends meet. Her aunt had four children to support, and the help she could provide was limited. Molly could only rely on herself in this city.
Until she met Paul. Paul was a year older than her, but he came to London three years earlier than her. He worked in the chemical plant next door. Despite his young age, he was already a wily old fox in the chemical plant and often caused trouble. The reporter portrayed Paul as a treacherous, cunning, and lazy scoundrel who used sweet words to coax the inexperienced Molly. Then, the night before yesterday, he could not help but reveal his fox tail.
After a brief investigation, Gregson found out that Molly had gone to look for Paul after work that night. Then, he brought his men to raid Paul's residence and found Molly's clothes there. The witness identified them as the clothes that Molly had worn that night. The evidence was conclusive, and Paul could no longer deny it.
The reporter wrote passionately that it only took Officer Gregson half a day to solve such a strange case. It was a blessing for the people of London to have such an outstanding police officer. At the same time, the reporter appealed to the public to cooperate with the police in the future, actively provide relevant clues, and jointly maintain the city's law and order.
Gregson looked very excited at this time. He said to Holmes, "I don't mean to be disrespectful to you, but with all due respect, even the smartest person makes mistakes. You're already very good. You can tell from the corpse that she worked in John's textile factory. It's normal for you to have some discrepancies in your deduction of the murderer. In the end, we still have to rely on the police to solve this case."
Holmes was noncommittal and asked, "Is the boy named Paul different from what I said?"
"There's a gap," Gregson laughed. "There's no problem with him being an acquaintance, but it's also certain that he had improper thoughts. When we went to his residence, we found more than just the clothes under the bed. That little bastard had been thinking about it for a long time. But that's not unusual. Many of the cases I've handled have been because men can't control their lower bodies. It's just a pity that the child named Molly was so young …"
Holmes interrupted the sheriff's lament, "What about other aspects?"
"His height doesn't match. That little bastard isn't six feet, at most five and a half feet. He's quite wild, though. When the two of us held him down, he was still struggling with all his might. He even wanted to bite the ear of one of our officers. I had no choice but to give him a hard slap to make him behave. As for his strength, it can only be said to be average. He's definitely stronger than Molly, but he's not much better than an ordinary person. In addition, he has a lot of injuries on his body from the previous fights, but there are no scratches on his arms."
"You've got the wrong person," Holmes said after listening.
Gregson burst out laughing. "Look at what you're saying. I know there's something wrong with your previous inference, and it may be a little embarrassing. But in our line of work, who doesn't make mistakes? No matter how good a person is, there will be times when he stumbles … So, we often say that the most important thing in solving a case is evidence."
"Evidence is right, but you've got the wrong person," Holmes said, shaking his head. "That kid named Paul is not the murderer."
"How is that possible? Do you think I'm a rookie who just entered the police station? "Gregson said disapprovingly." I've been a police officer for so many years, and I've handled many cases. There can't be any problem with such conclusive evidence. Besides, that little bastard admitted this morning that he did have thoughts about Molly. "
"It's not illegal to have thoughts," Holmes said. "Besides, they're all at this age, and they're curious about the body of the opposite sex. You can't just assume that he's the murderer."
"How do you explain the clothes? There are bloodstains on them," the sheriff said, spreading his hands.
This time, Holmes was not in a hurry to answer. Instead, he looked at Zhang Heng. "Are you free this morning? In order to prevent innocent souls from struggling in prison, and to prevent the real villain from getting away with it, it seems that we have to make another trip."
You've already exceeded your reading limit for today. If you want to read more, please log in.
Login
Select text and click 'Report' to let us know about any bad translation.
