When Moriarty's call came in,
Shylock had just successfully shaken off Lestrade and the other police cars at an intersection.
Dr. Watson, who was sitting in the passenger seat, rubbed his seat belt tightly around his body in shock.
God bless him, he swore,
He would never sit in Shylock's car again.
When the phone rang in his suit pocket, Shylock's hand was pressed on the steering wheel. Their car had already driven out of the city, and the vast fields stretched out on both sides of the road. His fair and handsome side profile remained expressionless.
Shylock reached out to take out his phone from his pocket,
He pressed the speakerphone button,
He placed the phone on the center console.
He looked at the road ahead with an indifferent expression,
He said, "I'm on my way."
Shylock didn't expect to get an answer. He knew that she could only relay Moriarty's words,
But he got a response.
A very soft "Hmm.".
Shylock immediately recognized it,
It was completely Anne's emotions and voice.
He immediately turned his head to look at the pink phone, as if he could see some information about her through it.
Watson also had a look of doubt and worry on his face. None of them would forget that a hostage the day before yesterday,
Because she had revealed information about Moriarty. The moment they were about to carry out the rescue, she was killed in an explosion.
"Anne? ... "Watson said hesitantly,
He prayed silently in his heart,
Don't say anything you shouldn't say.
On the other side of the phone,
Annie nodded in agreement.
Then said, "He said, I can talk to you."
Watson was stunned for a moment. He subconsciously raised his head to look at Shylock. Even without Shylock's amazing reasoning ability,
Watson could also think of it,
This meant that..,
They were about to meet this Mr. Moriarty, so it didn't matter whether Anne would reveal information about him or not.
"Are you okay, Anne? Are you hurt? "Watson immediately took the initiative to ask after coming to his senses.
For some reason, at this moment, Dr. Watson felt as if he had obtained Shylock's "mind-reading" ability. He could almost instinctively sense that these questions were probably what Shylock desperately wanted to know at this moment, but he would never take the initiative to ask.
Anne answered softly and truthfully, "I'm fine. Apart from a slight wound on his forehead, everything else is fine. "
Shylock remained silent and focused on driving. Watson had been a little cautious, not daring to ask Anne too many questions. He seemed to be worried that if he said something wrong, Anne would be blown to the sky like the previous victim.
There was a moment of silence.
Then, Anne suddenly spoke.
"Shylock …"
"Yes," he replied calmly.
Anne looked at the setting sun that had completely set below the horizon. The entire living room began to rapidly darken, and it seemed even quieter.
She sat alone on the cold and stiff chair, feeling sore and weak all over.
"I'm sorry …" The apology that had been brewing in her heart for a long time finally came out in such an unimaginable situation.
She was not apologizing to him for the kidnapping, but for her unreasonable behavior for more than a month. She knew that he was silently watching over her, and even arranged everything for her. He was someone who would never tolerate anyone.
Perhaps she should be happy and secretly happy that he was so special to her, but in fact, she felt terrible, guilty, and ashamed.
She felt that she liked Shylock. But in fact, she did nothing for him. Instead, it was him who was quietly taking care of her "bad temper."
Perhaps everyone would think that she was a gentle and good girl, but she did not show enough gentleness to the person she liked the most in her heart.
"Yes." Anne soon heard his response. It was still a deep and pleasant voice, and he said very reasonably, "I forgive you."
Watson, who was in the front passenger seat, looked at the person who said this with an incredulous gaze.
They were now facing a poor girl who was kidnapped, and the other party was obviously implicated because of him. Not to mention, he also had some unspeakable complex feelings for this girl. 'God, can his EQ be any lower?'
But Anne laughed silently. She knew that he understood why she was apologizing.
Her eyes were a little wet.
"Shylock," Anne heard herself say, "Did I ever tell you that I died of an illness in my previous life?"
Anne felt that her consciousness was probably a little hazy, or else she wouldn't be talking about these things now. She knew that although the other side of the earpiece was quiet, Moriarty must be watching their every move at all times.
Her voice was very soft, but Shylock paused a little longer this time.
After a moment, he replied, "No."
Indeed, no. When they were in Longbourn, she only told him that she died of an accident at the age of 22. But Shylock could guess it himself.
Anne said, "Cancer." She smiled quietly. "It was very painful. I worked hard for five years. But in the end, no miracle happened. "
Shylock said calmly and proudly, "I don't need a miracle this time. I can save you. "
"Yes."
Winter nights came quickly. It was quiet and cold. The black off-road vehicle drove quickly and smoothly in the night. Watson almost couldn't bear to look at Shylock, although the expression on his face was as calm and cold as ever.
"Shylock …" After a long time, Anne spoke again.
It was too quiet in the car, so Shylock could easily hear that her breathing was heavy and rapid.
"I'm here," he replied in a low voice.
"My respirator is in my pocket."
Shylock knew that she had asthma. Watson also knew. He finally couldn't help but look at Shylock — the respirator was in his pocket, but if she could get it, she didn't need to say it deliberately.
Shylock certainly thought of it, so this time he didn't speak, maybe because he couldn't speak.
Anne's gasping voice came through the receiver, "But, my hands and feet are tied, I can't get it." Her tone was weak and pitiful.
"I'll get it for you!" Shylock said quickly, "I'll be there soon!"
But after that, he slowed down and even picked up the phone directly and put it to his lips, "Anne, I'll be there soon, I promise. Hold on for a while — for me, okay? "The last sentence was almost soft.
It was not like Shylock at all. But this time, Watson was not surprised.
"Okay … Shylock." She seemed to be smiling, and no matter what he said, she wanted to say yes. But her voice was very soft, and she just repeatedly called his name, "Shylock … Shylock …" It was nostalgic, sentimental, and gentle. She hadn't called his name for more than a month.
Mr. Holmes, with a rare show of patience, took the trouble of assenting to every word.
Finally, she said in an almost inaudible voice, "Shylock, do you want to know … a secret …"
He immediately answered, "Tell me. I want to know. "
Anne really said softly, "Shylock … I really, really like …"
But in the end, it was quiet.
"Anne." Shylock only shouted this, and his hands holding the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white.
There was no response. He didn't say anything and just stepped on the accelerator, his face cold.
.
She was really tired and just wanted to close her eyes and have a good sleep.
But just as she closed her heavy eyelids, she immediately opened them again.
This was because an incomparably gentle voice said in her ear:
"My dear Anne, I'm very sorry, but now isn't the time to sleep. If you 'sleep' now, I guarantee that as soon as Shylock and his pet doctor walk through the entrance of Pemberley Manor, they'll be shot into sieves by the snipers I've arranged around."
So, Moriarty wasn't just saying that. He really knew Anne very well. He knew what kind of threats were most effective against her.
Anne struggled to breathe, and the sound of her heart beating violently rang in her ears, making her unable to hear anything else. But she heard it all the same, heard Moriarty's threat.
She couldn't do anything at all. She forced her eyelids open and bit her lower lip hard until she tasted the sweet taste of rust in her mouth.
Time seemed to be frozen by the cold of winter, becoming abnormally quiet and slow. She tried her best to kick her drowsy consciousness out of the quagmire again and again.
Shylock, are you here?
No, don't come. Don't let yourself get hurt …
Anne's consciousness rose and fell, but every time she was about to fall into complete darkness, she immediately forced herself up.
This repeated over and over again, over and over again. She finally couldn't take it anymore and began to cry. Her soft whimpers were like a cub nailed to a pouncing trap, painful and desperate.
In an elegant and gorgeous room, a man in a suit and leather shoes sat on the sofa. He even held a glass of red wine in his hand and stared lazily at the monitor in front of him.
How interesting. An ant that was on the verge of death was still trying to protect another person with all its might.
Pitiful and cute mortals.
Behind the man, the sound of someone struggling and groaning suddenly came from behind him.
Moriarty, whose mood had been spoiled, turned sideways on the sofa and looked behind him.
Behind him was a man tied to a chair. His eyes were covered with a black cloth, and his mouth was sealed with black tape.
Moriarty put his index finger to his lips and made a shushing gesture. He said softly, "Be quiet, dear Mr. Darcy. It's not your turn yet. "
.
When night fell completely, Shylock and Watson finally arrived at Chatsworth Manor.
The cold stars above were as bright as the Milky Way. The mountains and meadows around the manor lay dormant in the night.
The ancient and magnificent building stood before them. Shylock pushed the door open and got out of the car. The hem of his long trench coat fluttered gently in the dark night as he ran quickly toward the manor.
The gorgeous hall was empty and silent. Anne's thin and weak body was tied to a chair like a carefully prepared exhibit placed in the middle of the hall.
She had her head lowered. Shylock couldn't tell if she was awake or not, but her chest rose and fell slightly. At least she was still alive.
"Anne?"
This soft cry didn't come from Shylock, but from Watson, who followed closely behind.
Hearing the sound, the girl, who had her head lowered like a girl who had lost all vitality, moved slightly. Then she slowly opened her eyes and looked in their direction.
Watson breathed a sigh of relief. Shylock's calm gaze quickly swept around, and then he walked straight to the center of the hall. His thin and straight legs were steady and powerful.
Anne watched him approach step by step, and a weak smile appeared on her face.
Shylock, you're here.
He walked up to her and looked down at her from above. Shylock was a little surprised that there were no bombs tied to her body. Since Moriarty wanted to continue the game, he wouldn't easily change the format of the game.
Then his gaze stopped on Anne's face. She looked really terrible. Her face was as pale as paper, and her eyes were sunken. Even her light green eyes, which were always bright, seemed to have lost some of their luster. There were mottled bloodstains on her almost bloodless lips.
Shylock's face was tense, and his gaze instantly became as sharp as a knife.
He bent over and squatted down. Without saying a word, he took off his gloves and threw them on the ground. His slender fingers suddenly reached over and pinched her chin. He gently lifted her head and carefully examined the red and swollen bloodstains on her forehead.
His fingers were slightly cold. Anne sat on the chair, obediently motionless, and let him look.
The cool breath on his body was reassuring.
After confirming that she was really fine except for the superficial wounds, Shylock lowered his head to untie the ropes on her body. But his expression was still tense.
That fair and beautiful face was right in front of her eyes. Anne felt his bad mood.
"Shylock," she forced herself to be alert and said softly, "don't be unhappy. I lied to you just now. You saw it. I'm fine. Nothing happened to me at all."
"Mm," Mr. Holmes responded coolly, "you can say whatever you want, Miss Anne De Boer. Anyway, both of us know that I can see the truth in an instant. "
"Really?" Anne asked softly.
Shylock didn't even raise his head. Obviously, he didn't feel that this stupid and unnecessary question needed to be answered.
Then..,
"Shylock …" she said slowly again.
"Mm."
"I don't like you at all."
The hands that were busy helping her untie the ropes suddenly stopped.
Anne leaned back in the chair and quietly looked at his cold side profile.
Doctor Watson, who was standing aside and didn't know if he should go forward to help, thought, why do I feel like I'm completely unnecessary? ..
A moment later, Shylock's nimble fingers moved again.
After the ropes were untied, he stood up. The absolute height advantage made him look arrogant and cold, but the corners of his lips were slightly raised.
He stared at her and slowly said three words.
"I know."
Then he leaned over again, took out the respirator from her pocket, and put it to her mouth.
"So," his tall body squatted in front of her, and his gaze was at the same level as hers. His gray-green eyes were beautiful, and he said in a low and pleasant voice, "live longer, Anne. Otherwise, no one will 'hate' me as much as you do."
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