The moon was covered by a thin layer of clouds, and the moonlight became dim and hazy. It silently shone on his soft curly hair and thin body.
Seeing that he wasn't leaving, Anne looked up at his cold and beautiful side profile and asked softly, "Why are you angry?"
Shylock glanced at her from above. "Miss Anne De Boer, other than sleep problems, body coordination problems, and suicidal tendencies, do you also have problems with your vision and cognitive skills? Which eye of yours told you that I was angry? "
Both of his eyes could see it.
But Anne didn't want to argue with him, so she finished what she had been interrupted.
"I really only drank a little, and it was fruit wine. I won't joke with my body, and I won't commit suicide. I like to live."
Shylock ignored her. His tall body stood straight.
Anne felt a little helpless. And a little helpless.
Shylock saw that the bright gaze that had been looking up at him suddenly lowered its head and moved away. The slender hand that was grabbing the corner of his shirt also slowly let go.
Anne leaned back in the chair again and gently closed her eyes.
Actually, Anne was a little uncomfortable, but she was used to enduring it. And although the alcohol in her body made her feel a little light, it also made her breathing a little laborious.
Ever since she fell sick in her previous life, although she was the one who was tortured by the illness, she had always felt very guilty. So not only did the illness not make her temper worse, but it also made her more gentle and her temper better. She was also used to smiling all the time. Because she was afraid of bringing more stress and sadness to her family.
Annie couldn't remember when was the last time she had lost her temper.
So to Anne, Shylock seemed to be angry, but she didn't have the patience to coax him. That was already considered a very bad temper.
After a few seconds of silence, Anne sighed in her heart. Just as she was about to open her eyes and compromise, she felt the hanging chair under her swaying slightly. His cool suit sleeve brushed against her arm.
Anne suddenly opened her eyes and saw that Shylock had sat down again, but his thin lips were lightly pursed, and he did not look at her.
The corners of Annie's lips curled up slightly as she felt a warmth in her chest.
"Shylock." Her voice became softer as she apologized obediently. "I'm sorry. It's my fault. I promise I won't drink again."
Anne stared at him without blinking, so she didn't miss his relaxed expression. However, his expression was still lacking, and the words that came out of his mouth weren't pleasant either.
Shylock said, "Miss Anne De Boer, I'm sorry, but not a single word of what you said is correct. You don't need to apologize. Life is your own, and you don't need to promise anyone. "
However, Anne's heart softened. She smiled and nodded. "Okay, then I promise myself that I will never drink again. Is that okay? "
The other party snorted emotionlessly, or maybe he didn't even care about her. Anne felt a little dizzy from the moment he sat down again. She was sure that she had only drunk a glass of fruit wine at dinner, and she was also sure that her mind was clear now.
Anne leaned back in her chair again and looked at the bright stars above her head. The garden was quiet and deep.
"Let's talk about the case you're working on," Anne said softly. "How long do you think it will make you willing to stay in London?"
"Miss Anne De Boer," Shylock turned to look at her. "I think we both know that how long I stay in London depends on you."
How unfair. After she got used to calling him by his name, he always called her Miss Deboer, or even her full name.
However, Anne didn't correct him. She just said, "I hope your case won't bore you."
Sherlock's lips finally curled into a slight smile. "I have to say, our dedicated murderers have made 19th century London lovely. I can't wait to meet her as soon as possible. "
Anne didn't know whether to laugh or cry, but she immediately understood the meaning of his words. "Her? You mean the murderer is a woman? "Anne asked in surprise.
"Yes, it's obvious."
Okay. She didn't go to the crime scene, hoping that Dr. Watson and the 19th-century police officers wouldn't be shocked by his "obvious."
"You said that the murderer likes young aristocratic ladies?" Anne asked.
"Yes, young, thin, fair, very much like you." Shylock glanced at her emotionlessly. "It seems that you really want to know. Then I don't mind telling you. The last victim was stabbed 39 times. Her neck was cut twice, her abdomen was cut open, and her intestines were dragged out and thrown next to the body. Also, "he paused slightly and continued," The victim was pregnant, and the baby girl in her belly was stabbed several times … "
He spoke very smoothly and quickly, and there was no personal emotion from beginning to end.
Anne only felt her throat dry, and she closed her eyes in discomfort.
Shylock glanced at her and stopped.
Anne smiled apologetically. She did want to know because she wanted to try to get closer to him. But it seemed that it wasn't very successful.
In the quiet night, listening to a person talk about a bloody crime scene with a cool voice was really not a good choice. Even if this person was Sherlock Holmes.
But she was the one who brought up the topic, and it didn't seem good to suddenly stop.
Anne thought for a moment and said, "It seems that you have met the female version of Jack the Ripper."
Shylock seemed a little surprised that she actually knew about Jack the Ripper, because Anne looked like a typical good girl. Simple, boring, and lived like a blank sheet of paper. Whether it was in her previous life or this life.
But Shylock didn't dwell on this point, and only said, "Jack The Ripper is one of the most notorious serial killers in British history. He killed at least five victims in extremely cruel ways, and at that time, Scotland Yard didn't solve the case because of insufficient evidence. So, we can't completely rule out the possibility that Jack the Ripper is a woman. In fact, on the police's list of suspects, there was indeed a woman. "
Anne was a little confused. "Then … the murderer is really …"
"No." Shylock quickly interrupted her and gave a negative answer. His voice was happy and excited. "I'm very sure that the murderer is just an imitation."
"Imitation?" Anne was getting more and more confused. If the murderer was an imitation, then there was already a "Jack The Ripper" in this era?
Sherlock seemed to have guessed what she was thinking and gave another negative answer. "No, I don't. "No. 'Jack The Ripper' was a case that only appeared at the end of the 19th century."
Anne's brain wasn't very smart, so it took her a while to understand. Her eyes instantly widened, and her body instantly sat up straight.
That meant that there was a criminal who came here from the 21st century like them? And, imitating "Jack The Ripper" to kill people?!
Shylock saw that she understood and showed a satisfied smile on his face. At least she wasn't hopelessly stupid.
Anne slowly leaned back in her chair.
Shylock, Watson, Mcauliffe, and Mrs. Hudson were all here. Almost the entire crew had transmigrated to the 19th century.
A name quickly flashed through Anne's mind.
If it was an important figure in Shylock's crew, how could he be missing …
"What did you think of?" Shylock suddenly said, looking at her with his deep eyes. "Obviously, you thought of something just now. What is it? A person? A thing? Related to the current case? What is it? Tell me. "Shylock kept asking.
Anne swallowed nervously. She only knew that Shylock and the others had been here for more than two months, but she didn't know how the plot had progressed before they came.
Anne didn't want to lie to him, so she could only whisper, "I just thought of someone."
And？
Sherlock impatiently urged him with his gaze.
"Someone named Moriarty." Anne's voice was even lower.
Shylock's eyes flickered. "What a surprise. You even know Moriarty."
Anne breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed that the big boss had already appeared.
"But I'm afraid I'm interested to hear how you know Moriarty."
This time, Anne didn't say anything.
Perhaps she could say that she had read Watson's blog in her previous life. That was a good reason. But just like her previous hesitation, she didn't want to lie to Shylock.
Then, Shylock's words shocked her.
"I'm very curious. Even John doesn't know about Moriarty's existence. I just learned this name myself. Dear Anne, how did you know? "
Sherlock's grayish-green eyes shone with a sharp light in the night.
Annie, on the other hand, quickly calmed down after her initial panic.
She smiled gently at Shylock and said softly, "Can I not answer?"
Mr. Holmes gave her a disgruntled look and complained naturally, "I thought there were no more secrets between us."
I thought there were no secrets between us …
Anne's heart trembled slightly.
If she didn't know Mr. Holmes's emotional intelligence, Anne would have suspected that he knew she liked him.
After calming down, Anne smiled and asked, "You don't have secrets from me?"
"Of course," Shylock answered without hesitation. He paused and said, "If you tell me how you know about Moriarty, I might consider revealing the location of my cigarette stash to you. Trust me, this is definitely my biggest secret. "
Sherlock looked at her with sincerity, as if to her, this was definitely a deal that she would definitely benefit from.
It was too difficult to reject Mr. Holmes like this. He even curled his lips seductively and waited for her answer without saying anything.
Anne was silent.
When did he learn this trick? It's shameful to sell your beauty, Mr. Holmes!
Anne sternly reached out and pushed his handsome face to the side.
"You can continue to keep your biggest secret, Mr. Holmes. I'll continue to keep mine. "
Anne smiled and looked at Shylock's cold and unhappy side profile after being rejected by her.
The gentle night breeze blew by, bringing with it the scent of new grass. The stars above were getting denser and denser, and the white moon sprinkled a cold light.
In this quiet and deep night.
I saw myself clearly.
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