Watson and Shylock didn't return to Netherfield Garden until the wee hours of the morning.
Anne was lying in bed awake when she heard voices coming from the living room downstairs. She got up and went downstairs.
"Oh, Miss Deboer, did we wake you up?"
It was Bentley who spoke. He had also been accompanying Watson and Shylock at the crime scene.
Anne walked over and found that Bentley looked tired and pale. Unlike Watson and Shylock, this was probably the first time Bentley had seen a murder scene. Especially when she thought about what the maid had said: "He must have bled out all the blood in his body."
"Are you okay?" Anne asked with concern.
Hearing Anne's question, Bentley seemed to have finally found a breakthrough. He cried out excitedly, "God! Poor Mr. Carter! I really should have come back with you and Darcy. Oh my god! I believe I'll have nightmares for a month! No, maybe it'll be three months! "
Although it wasn't right, Anne still smiled at Bentley's frank performance.
"Have you found the murderer?"
She asked this question while looking in the direction of Shylock.
Anne noticed that he hadn't said a word since he appeared in the living room. Did the case not go well?
"Miss Anne De Boer."
Shylock's tone was very solemn. Not only Anne, but Bentley and Watson also looked at him in unison, thinking that he was going to say something important.
Mr. Holmes didn't care about the gazes focused on him. His gray-green eyes were indifferently fixed on Anne.
"Do you know that long-term insomnia will affect your height?"
Huh?
"It seems that you don't know." Shylock directly interpreted the confusion and doubt in Anne's eyes as a negative answer. "The growth hormone secreted by the pituitary cells is the main hormone that affects height, and the peak of growth hormone secretion is during sleep at night. So … "
Shylock's gaze swept over Anne's thin and weak body from top to bottom. "If you still have expectations for your height, you'd better solve your sleep problems."
Although his deep London accent and the way he spoke without the need for punctuation were as elegant and charming as usual, Annie immediately realized that she was being looked down upon …
Although it wasn't a big deal to be despised by Sherlock Holmes, the Holmes family had always been at the top of intelligence.
But what she was despised for was not her IQ, but her height …
Anne raised her head and looked at him. She wanted to refute, but after moving her lips, she finally replied with a sigh, "Okay."
She would be crazy to want to refute Sherlock Holmes, or anyone with the surname Holmes.
Anne comforted herself. She could take his words as Mr. Holmes's concern. After all, he was still paying attention to her height while investigating the case.
Shylock was obviously very satisfied with this answer, and there seemed to be a faint smile in the depths of his gray-green eyes. His fair and slender hands unbuttoned his suit, and he leisurely walked to the sofa and sat down. His two long legs stretched out and rested on the coffee table in front of him.
Seeing his state, Anne guessed that the case seemed to have been solved.
Although she didn't have the courage to go to the crime scene, Anne was still a little curious about the real murderer. Just as she was about to try to ask who the murderer was, Bentley spoke first with some concern.
"Miss Deboer, are you having insomnia? Sorry, I didn't notice. Are you not used to living in Netherfield Garden? Do you need me to ask the servants to help you change to another room? "
Anne was really moved by the cute and sincere Mr. Bentley. "It's okay, Mr. Bentley. I'm very used to living in Netherfield Garden. I just didn't sleep well tonight. There's no need to change rooms. "
Bentley, who was always easily persuaded, nodded obediently after hearing Anne's words.
Shylock seemed to glance in her direction, but fortunately, he didn't say anything. Letting more people know about her sleeping condition wouldn't help her in any way. Anne didn't want to add to other people's worries.
"You can try to maintain an appropriate amount of exercise every day, or listen to some soothing music before bed. It's also very helpful for sleep."
In the end, even Dr. Watson started to help out with ideas.
Anne hurriedly thanked him. She realized that the original topic of the murder case had suddenly developed in the direction of health and wellness without any warning …
"Are you having insomnia again? Why didn't you tell me? "
Anne responded and turned around to see Mr. Darcy standing at the top of the stairs.
Very good, he had also climbed out of bed to join in this "health and wellness talk."
Darcy didn't care about the others. He walked straight to Anne and looked at her with a frown.
Anne really sighed this time. "Darcy, it's not that serious. I just haven't slept well these past few days. I'm already trying to adjust. Don't worry, I won't take advantage of my body. "
However, Darcy's frown didn't loosen because of this.
Anne looked at the figures standing in the living room. She didn't know if it was because of the sudden murder case, but no one seemed to be sleepy.
"Since everyone doesn't want to sleep yet, I'll make a cup of tea." The British had the habit of drinking tea anytime and anywhere. Anne had inevitably been affected by it for 18 years.
As soon as she moved, Darcy immediately said, "Let Trish do it …"
"No, let her sleep. We shouldn't disturb a person's good sleep, right? "Anne said with a smile.
She first took a match and lit all the candlesticks around the living room one by one. Her eyes returned to normal. She chuckled, then brought the tea set and slowly made tea.
Because she had lived two lives, her body wasn't very good. Anne was used to doing everything at a leisurely pace. Although she was slow, she was very serious. Therefore, she didn't notice that there were two pairs of eyes following her.
The candles were lit one by one by a pair of delicate and white hands. The dim candlelight reflected a soft light on her face. The slightly raised corners of her lips seemed to be full of a warm and satisfied smile at all times.
Annie liked to do something seriously and wholeheartedly. Even if it was just making a cup of tea. The fragrant and hot tea flowed into the exquisite teacup. It was the most beautiful music with a fragrance.
She had never thought that her focused expression would be a sight to behold in the eyes of others.
When the tea was ready, the people of the late-night tea party had already taken their seats in the living room.
Anne habitually poured a cup of tea for Darcy.
Shylock glanced indifferently at Darcy. Anne didn't notice.
Then the second cup was given to Bentley.
Mr. Holmes's sexy lips tightened.
The third cup was given to Watson.
The detective already felt that the pair of hands holding the teacup wasn't as pleasing to the eye as before.
After pouring tea for Shylock, Anne picked up the cup in front of her and took a sip.
Unexpectedly, she met a pair of gray-green eyes. Anne paused. She never tried to guess what the smartest brain in the UK was thinking, so she just politely returned a smile.
Shylock turned away expressionlessly.
Of course, Anne didn't mean to be the last to pour tea for Shylock. She poured tea for everyone according to their seating arrangement.
And, who would care about this kind of thing? He wasn't a child.
Well, he was.
Annie didn't care about Sherlock who was "throwing a tantrum" for no reason. She turned to Watson and asked the curiosity that had been in her heart all night, "Have you caught the murderer?"
Watson glanced at Shylock, who elegantly picked up the porcelain teacup without saying a word. His fair fingers were almost the same color as the porcelain cup.
Watson could only answer himself. "Yes, Shylock quickly solved the case and found the murderer."
Before Anne could ask who the murderer was, Mr. Bentley, who had watched the entire process, couldn't wait to answer. "If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed that the delicate Miss Carter was the murderer!"
Miss Carter? Hearing the familiar name, Anne was stunned, and a pale and sorrowful face appeared in front of her.
"How many ladies are there in the Carter family?" Anne asked again.
"There's only one. She looked very sad about her father's death. If it wasn't for Mr. Holmes's superb deduction, no one would have suspected that a delicate lady could kill two people, "Bentley answered.
So, it really was Miss Carter. She had even thoughtfully arranged a carriage for them …
"Why did she …" Anne was about to ask the reason when she suddenly realized what Bentley had just said. Her heart skipped a beat. "You said she killed two people? Who else died? "
"Mrs. Carter." This time, it was Watson who replied. "Shylock led us to her body in the nearby woods."
Anne recalled what the maid had said when she left Carter's manor. So, Mrs. Carter, who had been unable to be found, was already dead.
The atmosphere, which had been warmed up by the lights and warm black tea, was suddenly depressed and silent.
"Miss Carter is really pitiful." Mr. Bentley's voice was full of sympathy. "No one can bear to have such a cruel stepfather and mother. She was …"
"Bentley," Darcy suddenly interrupted him.
Anne, who was listening, looked up and met Darcy's gaze. She guessed that he didn't want her to hear this.
Anne couldn't help but smile. She wasn't that fragile.
But she didn't say anything.
Although Bentley didn't finish, Anne quickly caught the main point. So, Mr. Carter was Miss Carter's stepfather.
It was easy to imagine what a cruel stepfather meant to a young and beautiful girl.
But why did she kill her mother and throw her body into the woods?
"Compared to the abuse of the stepfather, the neglect and indulgence of the biological mother are more harmful."
The one who answered her question was Shylock, who had been silent all this time.
Fine. Every time she thought something, it was written on her face, and she couldn't escape the detective's sharp eyes.
Annie looked at Sherlock, only to see him tidying up his sleeves elegantly. He was so stingy that he didn't even look in her direction.
So, how did you see through my thoughts?
The candles on the candlestick burned silently. Anne looked at him in silence for a few seconds, before she looked away and drank her tea.
Mr. Bentley seemed to still be immersed in the excitement of the murder. "This is the first time I've seen a detective investigate a case. It's amazing. Mr. Holmes just glanced at Mr. Carter, who had collapsed on the sofa, and described everything. It was as if he had been there when it happened. "
Anne curled her lips. It seemed that Mr. Holmes had another fan.
"Maybe I should get to know more private detectives in the future. This kind of experience is nightmarish, but it's also very novel, isn't it?"
Anne didn't think much of it. Holding the teacup, she said, "Then I'm afraid you'll be disappointed, Mr. Bentley. Mr. Holmes isn't a private detective, but a consulting detective. Also, not all detectives are as good as Mr. Holmes. He's one of a kind. "
Anne's answer was almost instinctive, because she knew this person too well, and because Sherlock Holmes was certainly one of a kind.
But her praise seemed too obvious and matter-of-fact, and there was a moment of silence in the living room.
Anne lowered her head and drank her tea, so she missed Shylock's gaze when he was finally willing to look at her.
If Anne had seen it, she would have realized that Shylock was sitting on the sofa leisurely, and there was even some gentleness in his eyes.
Well, sometimes, or most of the time, the proud Mr. Holmes liked to hear praise from others.
Especially …
Especially what?
Shylock's thoughts were stuck for a moment.
Then he said quickly, "Obviously, there's nothing to show off about such a low-intelligence case. Please don't let more people know that I was involved in such a simple and childish case. It'll be a stain on my life. "
So, since it's a 'stain,' can you not sound so happy and satisfied?
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