Shepherd Tantra

Chapter 84 Sherlock's Speculation
Tuesday morning.

Sherlock, who had just woken up, was curled up in his rocking chair that was used as a bed, covered with a woolen coat, and slowly eating the sandwich Edward brought.

Sherlock is a little hypoglycemic.If he wakes up and doesn't eat something right away or drink some sugar water or honey water, his brain won't be able to start working.

This may be a natural defect, or it may be that he simply doesn't like to eat.

If Edward hadn't brought him breakfast, he might just drink some honey water to deal with it today.

"Sooner or later you'll get stomach problems like this, Hermes."

Edward sat on the chair next to Sherlock's desk, talking in a deep voice.

He also holds the same sandwich in his hand.Beef, onion, cheese, lettuce and a generous amount of cheese sauce are sandwiched in soft white bread.

That was the portable breakfast that Edward ordered the cook at home to prepare in advance last night.

Because he knew Sherlock would skip breakfast if he could.

Sandwiches for breakfast, though, seemed a bit shabby for the Moriarty family.But if the food was more generous and complicated, Sherlock probably wouldn't want to eat it.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and said lazily: "I usually keep myself as hungry as possible. This way my brain can function more actively."

"Are you practicing penance?"

"Penancery? No, no, no..."

Sherlock chuckled and raised his head with interest: "Why do you think I'm like a monk, torturing myself for wisdom?"

"Isn't it?" Edward asked.

"Of course not," Sherlock replied, "If you care too much about something, you will easily fall into the form and discipline. Then you will lose your original intention of seeking wisdom.

"I admit that good things are good. If good things and bad things are in front of me, and I have the opportunity to choose, I will naturally try to choose good things.

"But is it so bad that it is unacceptable? Not necessarily. As long as it can meet the needs, then I can choose either one-in other words, I don't have to choose the better one."

Sherlock said, throwing the last bite of the beef sandwich into his mouth.

While chewing, he said vaguely: "Honey water and sandwiches can also wake up my brain. Then of course, I will eat whichever is delivered to my hand. You can't make me use that kind of drowsy posture." Why don't you go downstairs and get a sandwich? You don't know what it's like to have your brain spin like a dry machine, that's too bad."

"Then you might as well hire a maid to take care of you."

"No, no, forget it. My best friend."

Sherlock shook his head vigorously, expressing a strong refusal: "You know, any document or file in my room has its own place. All my bottles and cans also have their own, some The mysterious way of placing them. No one but me can put them in such a desirable and proper position."

"You are quite similar to Aiwass in this respect," Edward commented after looking at the narrow and messy dark room full of various books and files, "seriously, you need someone to take care of your life." Living people. Why don’t you go home and live, at least the cook in your family can cook some good dishes for you three meals a day.”

"Oh, forget it."

Sherlock sneered, leaned back, and the rocking chair swung back and forth slightly: "If I go back, the old man will talk about my blind date and marriage again...

"A person's brain will become sluggish after eating too much, and the brain will become numb after drinking. If you fall in love with another person, or if you are obsessed with fame, or eager for money and wealth, your brain will also become unclear.

"You know that too, Edward. The path of wisdom is a path of selfishness. Truth is meant to be found only by solitude. Marriage is too much trouble for me."

"You said that, I thought you had come a long way on the path of wisdom."

Edward's calm expression remained unchanged: "The farthest path you have taken is not authority? Besides, you are 26 years old, and it is time to get married. It is normal for Sir Arthur to be anxious about your affairs."

"...That's only temporary. Soon, my path of wisdom will overtake."

Sherlock dealt with it vaguely, and then countered without hesitation: "Also, what about yourself? Aren't you 35 years old and still unmarried?"

Edward just shook his head slightly, without any fluctuation in his voice: "I'm a widow.

"I got married in my early twenties, but then my wife died unexpectedly."

"...I haven't heard you mention that."

Sherlock raised his eyebrows, and his amber pupils opened slightly with interest.

But he didn't ask here.

Inspector Edward's wife who had died—it's easy to find out what happened to such a big man.Not mentioning it at the moment is out of respect for Edward, and at the same time, confidence in his ability to investigate.

And Edward didn't take the initiative to explain, but just walked over and handed over this morning's "Glass Steps".

Sherlock, who was lying on the rocking chair, got up and took the newspaper, then lay down again.

He lay on the rocking chair and swayed, shaking his head bit by bit.It looked like he was a little sleepy after a full meal.It's been a long time since I read the first edition.

Edward, who was standing next to him, waited for a long time, and finally couldn't help asking: "Did you see it? Aiwass is in the newspaper again, and it's still the headline."

"I found out yesterday."

Sherlock lazily said: "As soon as I entered the club, I guessed that His Royal Highness immediately. Speaking of which, did we have the 'Crystal Slippers' badge when we were in school?"

"Only you. I've never been interested in music."

Edward replied casually.

He was eating a sandwich, waiting for Sherlock to finish reading the newspaper before asking, "What do you think?"

"Not good. But not bad."

Sherlock threw the "Glass Steps" aside: "Secretary Raff was assassinated in public, and the impact was extremely bad. But this is just a deliberately exaggerated tension.

"What's really important is that this incident happened next to Her Royal Highness. And Director Gordon failed to arrest the professional killer in the end."

"Although according to our investigation of the scene yesterday, Director Gordon's behavior can be said to be completely correct. But many times, it doesn't matter what you did... What matters is that you make people believe what you did.

"In any case, Gordon let go of a very dangerous assassin. It's the end of November now, and the Chinese New Year will be over a month away. If the matter is not properly resolved, public opinion will have trouble. One was released A high-level transcendent who can run and kill people is basically pointing his nose and scolding the Supervision Bureau for not doing well. At that time, not only Gordon, but the entire Supervision Bureau may be under pressure—your Supervision Bureau should want to compress it. Has the Supervisory Bureau’s scope of authority been around for a long time?”

"The truth is that he's not doing his job well. But dealing with Director Gordon at this point will only make people realize that the problem is out of control, and they will become more panicked and make the situation even more out of control."

Edward whispered: "Therefore, the Supervisory Bureau plans to hold a large-scale commendation meeting for Aiwass this week to shape his achievements and distract the public's attention."

"Didn't there be a commendation for what happened at the Pelican Bar last time?" Sherlock asked doubtfully.

"Twice commending two in one. It's still Thursday afternoon. This time, the plan is not to award the 'Crystal Cross', but to directly award the Holy Sword Medal."

Edward said in a deep voice.

"Huh."

Sherlock raised his eyebrows: "In what name? The Holy Sword Medal is generally awarded to warriors who have made meritorious service in protecting the country, or who have made meritorious deeds on the battlefield."

"'Discovered and prevented the Assassin's assassination of Princess Isabel by himself'."

"Huh? This becomes an attempted assassination? Secretary Raff has become an innocent person affected?"

The black-haired young man with messy curly hair lazily fell on the rocking chair and sneered: "It's not impossible, then let them report it like this first."

"……First?"

Edward caught Sherlock's words: "What did you find?"

"It's not an investigation, but a deduction. This is really an interesting case, my dear friend. I thought about it all night yesterday, and I didn't sleep until three or four in the middle of the night."

As Sherlock said, he took out his little notebook: "Priority first, and start from the most critical point.

"I have already completed the decoding of those documents, and there are a large number of addresses and names written in a coded text.

"You probably don't care about the reasoning process in the middle. I'll just say the conclusion—this document found at the scene is related to the smuggling case at the port."

"...you mean the 'Sweater Brotherhood' line?"

"Yes. In other words, Minister of Trade Drost may be related to the smuggling case.

"And I have already found out the identity of the assassin. It is an assassin association from Iris, called "Eagle Eye". Only they can use this special weapon. They are the remnants of the Black Hawk Principality after its demise... They can be regarded as mercenaries. They may accept commissions from anyone, including attacking nobles and even royal families from various countries."

Having said that, Sherlock closed the notebook.

He looked at Edward meaningfully: "Under what circumstances do you think the assassin who came all the way from Iris would kill the minister's private secretary who is directly related to the smuggling case of the Star Wars Kingdom in an open and aboveboard place?"

"I think it's for the purpose of framing people."

Edward replied without hesitation: "That's why the deceased fell to the ground from the second floor with his back to the murderer in the posture of holding the documents. This shows that there is a high probability that he is not going to get the documents, but to deliver them. "

"Oh, there is some truth to your speculation."

When Sherlock heard this, the corners of his mouth rose slightly: "Unfortunately, this possibility does not exist. Because I confirmed the notes on this document yesterday, and it is obviously the same as the code words on the freight bill we seized at the Sweater Brotherhood. From the same person. After cracking the password rules, I successfully decoded the file, and found that it said one warehouse after another, and a certain administrator of the corresponding warehouse.

"Thankfully, there are documents signed by Secretary Raff in my file here. Although he deliberately controlled the brushwork, he is sure that it was written by the same person.

"So I thought of a possibility. Someone has the handle on Minister Droste, so I hope to expose him."

"And this kind of thing..."

Edward murmured in a low voice, looked at Sherlock, and asked calmly and clearly, "Then who do you think it could be?"

"Analyzing from the aspects of interpersonal relationship, motivation, ability, and alibi," Sherlock paused, "I think it might be your father, Professor Moriarty."

(End of this chapter)