At the end of the simple visit, except for the lunch that was sponsored by Mrs. Hudson at the end, Lance felt that it was quite successful.

The lovely landlady was still nagging about Sherlock and John when she was leaving, and the poor doctor was almost going crazy, and although he wanted to go around Baker Street twice, it was not easy for him to follow Sherlock, so forget about running laps.

God knows, John could almost be said to have turned into a spinning top at high speed in the presence of Sherlock, all revolving around him.

Lance set up the firewood in his heart, and thought that Sherlock had fallen into Moriarty's eyes, and silently put the torch down.

Things are going very smoothly in a manga house, and it is enough to be the owner of a manga house as long as you have enough money and some small ways, and when it comes to it, this profession is also enough to have free time and not arouse the suspicion of others.

At least Lance himself thinks it's good.

The understanding of this case really relieved the citizens of London, who were a little anxious, after all, it is not a happy thing to have an invisible threat buried around them, according to John, Sherlock later went to the prison to see the driver, the two seemed to talk about something, Sherlock came out with a stern expression.

"Probably asking why you killed someone?"

John's eyes widened as he looked at the young man drinking coffee across from him, and behind him was a huge wooden shelf with many models on it, "Are you crazy? Sherlock never cared about that!"

Lance scooped a spoonful of sugar into the coffee cup with a small spoon, and then stirred the coffee in a pretended elegance to try to make it foam, "I know, John, don't you see that I'm cooperating with you?"

"Hmph," John pouted, "but he died shortly after Sherlock and I left. ”

Lance's hand suddenly raised his head, "Dead?"

"Yes. John nodded, "Said he swallowed the spoon." ”

"......" Lance swallowed, "Let's change the subject, what have you been up to lately?"

John coughed dryly, seeming a little nervous, "Ah, some, I'm writing something in my blog." ”

"Huh?" Lance remembered that in the original book, Sherlock's Dr. Watson would write about each of Sherlock's cases, "It's about Sherlock?"

"Ahem, yes. John was a little shy, "Although he also has a blog, he doesn't write his own stories, and I just need to write something, and I can choose Sherlock's cases and reasoning." ”

"This case is also written?"

"In fact, this case is the beginning. John said, "I just wrote a little bit, but because this prisoner turned himself in, Sherlock said he turned himself in because someone threatened him, and the police didn't have any clues about that person, and Sherlock wasn't particularly involved, so I thought otherwise I wouldn't write about it." ”

Lance raised an eyebrow, "This is the first case you've encountered since you lived together, are you going to give up on such a memorial significance?"

John was silent, his lips pursed, obviously with this in mind, "But ......"

"Sherlock doesn't always have to be successful. Lance's eyes rolled.

"You're right. John breathed a sigh of relief, "But Sherlock is actually very good in his daily life, oh, by the way, do you mind if I mention you in my blog?"

Lance chuckled, "If you don't want to be approached by Interpol, it's best not to write about me, it's worth saying that I'm using my real name now, and I'm actually quite dangerous." ”

John: "......"

John didn't know if Lance was joking, but if he did, he wouldn't have written about his new friend.

The doctor on the other side is also a wonderful person, with the temperament of a soldier, resolute and at the same time able to make people feel gentle and harmless, fortunately, Moriarty is not very interested in him, but he can't stand him and is now tied to Sherlock.

"Is there anything on my face?" asked John.

Lance shrugged, "No, I'm just complimenting you in my heart, and you and Sherlock have only known each other for three ...... Is there three days?"

"There you go. John answered, "Oh, I know what you're going to say Noah, but I, and Sherlock! absolutely, absolutely, ......."

“ok,ok,ok.” Lance quickly interrupted him, "I know, I know, you don't have to worry, I know that you and Sherlock are definitely not in a relationship, you just think his ideas are wonderful, and you have some admiration for him." ”

"......" John was silent, he found that he had no way to deny it, "so"

The doctor's expression stiffened.

"I mean, you've only known Sherlock for so little, but you already know him well. Lance pointed his finger at the table, "Even when we talk together, John, do you already think of Sherlock as the center of your world?"

John sat in his seat and watched the moisture slowly rising from the cup in front of him, and waited until the coffee was already slowly cold, before he breathed a long sigh of relief, and he thought for a long time, "You're right. He said, with a hint of relief in his tone, "I've put Sherlock in a special position. ”

Lance looked him in the eye, "You feel like you need him for yourself." ”

"Seriously. John laughed, "You're much better than a psychiatrist." ”

Lance frowned, "Because they talk to you as a cure, while I communicate with you on an equal footing, and no one wants to be sick." ”

John didn't continue the topic Lance didn't hold onto, but a little later he received a text message from Sherlock, who seemed to be in a hurry.

"Sherlock said he needed me. John raised his phone, "I guess I'm in trouble." ”

"Yes. Lance also felt that the meeting could be over, "I bet he texted you because he was lying on the couch and wouldn't get up to get a newspaper for himself." ”

John didn't believe it, he was convinced that Sherlock was a very important thing to burn his eyebrows, and he didn't even eat the little biscuit that Ranster wanted to buy, stood up and poured a sip of coffee that had been cold, and managed to wrinkle his face into a ball of trembling, and then left.

Lance smacked his mouth twice, watched John's figure fade away in the cold wind, let out a long sigh, and stuffed the remaining cookies into his mouth.

The phone that was set aside showed a new text message, and Lance glanced at it, feeling that the little cookie in his mouth was a little bitter.

It turns out that Lance's reasoning is not wrong, what awaits John is not such as saving Sherlock, and Uncle Holmes is just because he is bored so he keeps urging.

But it doesn't matter, it won't be boring in no time.

On the outskirts of the city, a passer-by found a girl lying on the side of the road, who was already dead when she was found, wearing a heavy dress, which was very beautiful on top of each other, and her face was painted with a thick bewitching outfit, looking like a legendary vampire nobleman.

The body had become cold and stiff due to the fact that the blood was no longer flowing, and the forensic department had not found any fingerprints or other fibers on the corpse that did not belong to the gown.

This made the police feel a little tricky, but quickly confirmed the identity of the girl, just a girl who was still in high school, it was said that she went to participate in the party last night and told the family that she stayed at a friend's house at night, until noon, the girl still did not have any phone call to the family, the mother was a little anxious, so she called and asked to know that the girl did not go to the party at night.

Lance leaned against the car door, looking at the curly-haired monster crouching in front of the corpse with a complicated look in his eyes.

Forgive him! Now Sherlock is nothing more than a mocking curly monster in his eyes.

"Sherlock said that your presence would make him think a little clearer. John touched his nose and tried to defend his roommate.

Lance sneered, "Then he must have said the same thing to you." ”

John turned his head almost immediately, and there was incredulity in his tone, "How do you know!"

"......" is over, and I feel like I'm about to cry.

Sherlock lay on the floor studying the girl's makeup, looking very attentive as if he hadn't heard the other two talking.

"Hey, Sherlock, you must tell me what you found!" Lestrade shook his hand, and beside him stood a man and a woman on the left and right, looking like two gods.

"It's obvious, it's obvious!" Sherlock muttered, "a car." ”

"A car?" Donavan cried out with his hands folded, "You can see a car by looking at the corpse?"

Anderson next to him let out a sneer cooperatively, "Maybe he let her tell him." ”

John was dazed, and then he heard Sherlock call him, "John, come here, I need your help." ”

John H. Watson immediately responded to the call, rubbing his legs and passing over, he crouched down and carefully looked left and right against the girl's cheek, "There are no bruises on the face, there are small wounds on the neck, two sharp ...... um？”

Then there are the girls' hands, "the hands are very clean, and the nails have just been maintained." ”

Then he rolled up the sleeves on the girl's wrists, "There are no bruises on the arms, it's clean...... Wait, there are a lot of small sharp wounds on the arms as on the neck. ”

Lance turned around and looked around at the slightly desolate place, with no tall trees, not even monitors, and the nearest home was said to take about six minutes to get there.

It is located in the middle of nowhere, with few people, no monitoring, and a good place to throw corpses.

(l~1`x*>+``+