After spending the morning together, Zhang Heng was certain that Mr. Villard was indeed a fan of Sherlock Holmes.
His words, and the way he looked at Holmes, bore out this fact.
On the other hand, although Sherlock Holmes didn't say it out loud, it was obvious that he enjoyed this kind of worship. No matter how aloof an artist he was, he still hoped that his work could be accepted by the world. Although Sherlock Holmes wasn't considered an artist in the traditional sense, his achievements in criminal investigation were indeed worthy of being called an artist of the Victorian era.
Of course, Holmes was more focused on the case that Villard was talking about.
It was obvious that he was very interested in this thief of honor.
In the carriage, he asked the red-haired young man, "How much information do you have on him?"
"I tried my best to investigate, but I didn't get much information. The main thing is that it's not easy to find the victim. Most people don't want to talk about what happened that year. That guy … how should I put it? In a sense, he's quite a gentleman. As long as you pay the ransom, he'll keep his promise and return the item to you. After that, he won't bother you again. That's why most people obediently hand over the ransom."
"Not bad. A thief actually cares about his reputation," Holmes praised. "It seems that our friend regards this line of work as his life's work. How can we not meet such an interesting person?"
Villard rubbed his palms together excitedly. "So, you're planning to take action? That's great! As long as you're willing to take action, I'm afraid the thief will die here. He must not know that you're in London. Otherwise, he wouldn't have come all the way here."
"My friend, you think too highly of me," Holmes said with a smile. "Let's talk about the case first."
"Don't worry. I know it's not convenient for you to go to France. I've scouted the scene, collecting all the information that seems useful and useless on the surface for your reference."
Villard took out a small notebook from his suitcase as he spoke.
Almost every page was filled with notes and meticulously drawn pictures. Even Holmes couldn't stop praising the book. "Villard, you've surpassed most of your peers in terms of your level of meticulousness alone," said Zhang Heng as he took a look at it.
"Hehe, it's nothing. I just believe that diligence makes up for my lack of talent." Villard scratched his head, beaming with joy at being praised by his idol.
Holmes quickly flipped through the notebook, then spent another half an hour going through it from beginning to end. He then handed it to Zhang Heng. "Take a look. It's interesting."
Zhang Heng took the notebook and skimmed through its contents.
Mr. Viscount's Canaletto oil painting was lost half a month ago. Because of the painting's uniqueness, he did not place it in the collection room with the other collections. Instead, he found a small, inconspicuous room to store it. At the same time, he stored an exquisite large porcelain vase from China. In comparison, the large porcelain vase was more valuable, but the other party did not touch it at all. He only took the oil painting. Obviously, he had done a lot of homework in advance.
"What do you think?" Holmes asked Zhang Heng.
The latter thought for a moment and said, "There are a few problems. First, even if this painting is lost, no one can prove that it was once in the hands of the viscount."
"Oh, here's the thing. The viscount has a little quirk. He likes to sign his name on the back of his collected paintings. Even though he knows that this painting has a shady origin, he can't help but sign his name on it," Villard said helplessly. "Otherwise, I wouldn't have to chase him all the way from Paris to London."
"The second question, who knew that he had secretly traded this oil painting?"
"That's a good question," Holmes nodded and said, "The most interesting part of this case is here. You said before that the viscount secretly completed the transaction through a middleman. How did the honorary thief find out about this after so many years? Similarly, there are other victims. Since he specifically targeted the most unbearable secret in a person's heart, he needed to dig out this secret first."
"This is also what puzzles me the most," Villard said. "I have no clue at all. Think about it. Even if he learned one person's secret by chance, there's no reason for him to know others'. Otherwise, this person is a little too amazing. Could it be that he has some kind of black magic that allows him to see through a person's eyes and see what they are thinking? If that's the case, our opponent this time is a little too scary."
"I don't believe in witch doctors and black magic," Holmes snorted. "Based on the many cases I've dealt with, everything that seems mysterious and illogical on the surface, as long as you're willing to study it patiently, you'll eventually get a reasonable explanation. Eliminate the impossible answers, and what's left is the truth."
"You're right. I've learned a lot," Villard said humbly. At this moment, he looked like a primary school student listening attentively in class. Holmes didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Go on, my Eastern friend." "Third, it involves the modus operandi of the crime," Zhang Heng said.
"Mr. Viscount went to see the oil painting the night before. The next morning, the maid found that the painting was missing. That means the crime must have been committed between then and now. But the viscount's mansion is heavily guarded, and he keeps several hounds. The hounds did not make a sound that night, and the notes say that there were no other visitors. Behind the house is a small garden. It rained in the morning, and the soil was loose. There were no footprints on it. The front door is facing the butler's room, and he didn't hear any unusual sounds at night. So how did the honorary thief get into the viscount's mansion and take the painting out before dawn?"
"Yes, this guy is really amazing. He comes and goes without a trace. When the maid cleaned the house in the morning, she found that the frame was still there, but the oil painting inside was gone. That guy even left a letter on the floor, signed by Mr. M, proudly commenting on the decoration of the viscount's mansion. It's like he's treating it like his own backyard. It's really infuriating."
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