Director Lestrade doesn't like Sherlock.

In addition to the above two points, of course, there is a third point, a fourth point...... And even many, many points later.

Even if this Mr. Detective once caught the murderer of the director's daughter, and skinned the other party alive in front of him...... He still hated Sherlock.

Because he can clearly feel that this guy is not arresting criminals for justice, he is not even for money...... Because he habitually made those criminals into an indescribable appearance every time; Although criminals have no human rights, they must not be allowed to die in prison, let alone appear on the execution ground in such a miserable posture that is enough to 'disturb the people's hearts'.

It costs a lot of money to deal with this kind of thing, which makes Sherlock's bounty very small every time.

But!

He continued to do so...... The Bureau of Lestrade seriously suspected that he was arresting criminals for venting, to relieve boredom, or for some other shady reason.

"If it weren't for the fact that my daughter's soul might have been a little grateful to you, I would have ranked you as the most heinous criminal!" The director scolded angrily.

Sherlock smiled disappreciatively: "Come on, how many troublesome criminals I've dealt with for you over the years, you know it well, and you can't stuff me into the ranks of criminals, I've never broken the laws of the Empire...... At least, you haven't caught the evidence......"

Lestrade held his breath!

Indeed, there is no evidence that Sherlock ever sinned...... But he knew in his heart that this guy was definitely the most terrifying and evil criminal, and what he did was definitely more frustrating than all the death row prisoners in the underground prison combined.

But no one knows what he's going to do.

No one knows where he's from, how old he is, his past experiences, or even Sherlock. I don't know if the name Sherlock Holmes is real.

Everyone just knew that he claimed to be a detective and lived in a small rental house on Baker Street.

Every once in a while, he would show up at the police station with the big blood-soaked suitcase, and then exchange the suitcase for some bounty for a criminal who had poured blood mold for eight lifetimes.

That's all.

And if you ask him what he usually does, or his ideals, goals, and why he wants to be a detective, he will just spread his hands with a natural attitude and answer with a smile:

"Life is too dull, I just don't want my brain to rust up, just have some fun by the way......"

......

A few more minutes passed like this, and Lestrade didn't ask any more questions, and the bastard in front of him wouldn't say anything more anyway, until the blues cigarette burned out little by little.

"Da~Da~Da~"

In the corridor outside the lounge, a series of footsteps suddenly remembered, from far and near.

Director Lestrade and Sherlock looked at each other...... Immediately afterwards, a tall nun and a thin old man appeared at the door of the reception room.

It was Miss Catherine and the priest.

Lestrade stood up at once, and bowed respectfully.

...... And Sherlock at this time...... He was still sitting.

It wasn't because he wanted to show a cold and disrespectful attitude in front of the clergy of the Holy See, but because his gaze fell on the modified shapewear of the nun in an incredible way!

And finally rarely...... showed a touch of embarrassment and consternation.

"Let's go, Mr. Holmes." Catherine looked at her with her head held up slightly: "...... Time waits for no one. ”

......

......

The setting sun passes through the gaps in the car windows, and the dust in the air looks like strange tiny creatures, making people want to hold their breath unconsciously.

Sherlock sat in the middle of the carriage with a thick woolen blanket on his butt and feet;

He never imagined that he would get on the carriage of the Holy See in this way, and he didn't expect that the nun he met before would have such a lofty status.

Looking out the window, the noisy square was still full of people, this is the lower town, everywhere you can see, most of them are porters with wooden boxes on their backs, and newspaper boys shouting barefoot, and there are a few scantily clad women in the alley next to the tavern, thinking that their business must not be good this month, otherwise they would not have come out to solicit customers at this time.

The carriage axles were loaded with shock-absorbing technology, so that no bumps were felt, and along the way, after several urban checkpoints and huge gear lift gates, the noise faded away, and the convoy came to the upper town.

The street is wide and flat, and the buildings on both sides are solemn and orderly, and some elaborate metal pipes cling to the walls, like delicately manicured ivy, gleaming in the weak sunset.

After another half hour or so, when the sun had finally completely hidden itself and the gas lights were on, the carriage stopped.

Sherlock stepped out of the carriage a little sleepy, the wind was a little cold in the night, and in front of him was a clean small street, probably because it had been cordoned off a long time ago, there were no pedestrians around, only security guards in steam armor patrolling around, and the heavy steel collided with the bluestone pavement, masking the sound of high-pressure steam sprayed from time to time.

"Sir!"

Seeing the carriage, a sheriff quickly arrived, his mechanical arm clenched into a fist on his left chest, and half-knelt in front of Catherine.

This is the inherent etiquette of subordinates in the church to their superiors, but the steam armor is too thick, even if it is half-kneeling, it is still much taller than Catherine.

"Lord Priest."

He respectfully saluted the thin old man who had just gotten out of the car. But at this moment, his gaze inadvertently crossed the old priest's shoulder and caught sight of Sherlock behind him.

The gas lamp overhead stretched his shadow extremely long, and Sherlock ...... I just took out a cigarette and lit it.

The sheriff's eyes are popping out!

Even if the chief was right in front of him, he couldn't hold back his voice:

"No smoking here!!"