Sherlock didn't answer immediately, but stared at the corner of the photograph again, and after a long moment, finally explained:

"Actually, not only do I have doubts about this fork, but I also care about the posture of the deceased."

As he spoke, he pulled out another photo of the corpse and placed it on his desk along with a photo of the head on the dining table.

"You see, when we found Pope Nadine Beru, he was in this position, holding the knife in his right hand and his key in his left hand, but everyone could see that the hand in which he was holding the key was supposed to be holding the fork.

So why do the forks and keys have their positions reversed? ”

Hopkins frowned and pondered for a while, then shook his head: "I can't think of a possibility, is there a possibility that Pope Nadine Belu himself holds that key when he eats, after all, this key is the only way to enter the room he is in, as long as he holds it, he can give himself a great sense of security." ”

As soon as he finished speaking, he denied his own thoughts:

"Well, it's not right to think so, he has macaroni on the dining table, if he holds the key in one hand and the cutlery in the other, then no matter how you think about it, it should be a fork in his hand, and he can't eat noodles with a knife."

"yes." Sherlock continues to look at these two photos:

In short, based on the clues that can be obtained now, the following inferences can be made.

First: the door must be locked, so in order to enter the room, you must have a key.

Second: the key is in the hands of the Pope, so that is, no one can enter the room

These two points must be contradictory, unless our Pope has a problem with his brain and makes the operation of [taking the initiative to open the door for others].

But in that case, the only people who can get close to his room and not be discovered by others are the people inside the church, or else they will be some kind of invisible guys. However, even if this is the case, there is no way to explain why the key is in the hands of the deceased when the door is locked, even if the invisible person has been squatting in the corner of the room, it is not true, because nothing that can be called a murder weapon was found at the scene, and there is no way to take the murder weapon out of the stealth alone.

And this situation is really too small, if the ripper is really just a person with special abilities, then he must have reached the second order, I don't think that a contractor above the second order can hide that the Holy See has been wandering in society as an ordinary person, after all, without the help of the Holy See, few people can break through the line of the pinnacle.

So take a step back, even if that guy is really a genius, can break through to the second order by himself, and has special abilities beyond ordinary people, then it seems that there is nothing worth paying attention to when he kills these people.

It's really not interesting to kill people with special abilities. ”

Sherlock said this, and his eyes finally got off the two pictures on the table, but because the speed of his speech would soar to a very frightening level every time he arrived, in order to cope with the coherence of his thoughts, he continued almost without interruption:

"In fact, I can clearly feel that this Mr. Ripper is an extremely conceited person, otherwise he would not have left a murder notice, let alone made such meaningless acts as beheading, dismembering, and disemboweling the dead.

The reason why he did this is most likely to show his strength and want people to remember him.

If I've been killing people with special abilities, then if it's me, I definitely won't feel the slightest satisfaction, let alone go out of a big way to dissect the corpse or chop up the head of the deceased, I experienced it once last year when I was in the School of Life Sciences, although it didn't affect my reasoning link, but it also caused me to not sleep well for a few days.

So I can put myself in the shoes of a killer who can make the Inquisition helpless, and this sense of self-identity must be there.

So let me have a preliminary guess about his method of killing. There should be no contractual capacity, which is the most common, physical way that can be achieved. ”

Hopkins listened to Sherlock's evaluation, at first, he thought that what this guy said was very reasonable, but the more he listened, the more wrong it became, how in the end, he substituted himself into the psychology of a criminal.

You, a detective, are you really right to tell the murderer in this tone?

Hopkins didn't say much, though, because he quickly thought of what Sherlock had done before, and it seemed that thinking of him as a detective was the most inappropriate idea.

And Sherlock's last conjecture is also a little too unacceptable.

In this kind of absolute secret room, is it really possible to kill people without the help of contractual power?

Time passed little by little, and the sky gradually brightened, and the people of the Inquisition investigated the entire scene, but what was finally found was actually something that Sherlock had already discovered.

As a pope, Nadine Berou's headless body could not have been left at the scene of the murder, and at the request of countless family members and church friars, his body was taken away for a solemn, but extremely secret, funeral. Because the bizarre death of a pope is likely to plunge the diocese he runs into some unnecessary panic, in fact, most of the figures killed by the ripper who have a face in society have been blocked from the news, and now, the 'ripper' in the eyes of the people is actually just a serial murderer who has not yet been spared time to arrest.

In this way, three days passed, four days passed, and the funeral of Pope Nadine Belu was successfully completed, but his death, like all previous cases, still had no clue, and even Sherlock became more and more silent every day, sometimes in a daze, sometimes wandering around Nightingale's villa alone, sometimes looking at the sun in the sky, squinting to block the sun, as if trying to get some kind of enlightenment from the stars outside the sky.

And on the fifth day after the death of Pope Nadine Beru, on the tenth day when the wealthy banker entered the vault

Several members of the Imperial Investigation Team arrived at the London Underground Bank on the date set at the beginning, and after a long elevator descent and a seemingly random but extremely rigorous inspection, they finally got their hands on the password stored here.

In the process, looking at the impassable gulf formed by the majestic underground river, everyone will have the same idea.

[This password cannot be stolen].

At three o'clock in the afternoon of the same day, Sherlock and the others came to the underground vault of the bank again, and the manager of the bank took the password and rotated the huge wheel lock of the vault vigorously, and when the last turn was made, a sound that was not loud was announced, indicating that the door that had been closed for ten days was finally opened again.

Two bank clerks tugged at the door and pulled it open

The eye looked through the open steel door, and the white light poured down overhead.

The banker was curled up on the ground.

Seeing this scene, the hearts of the people subconsciously stopped, and they naturally wondered that they had stayed in this place completely isolated from the outside world for ten days, although there were books, but they must have been bored to death, and now that the door was finally opened, why didn't he get excited, why didn't he happily run out to hug the people outside the door, why didn't he stand proudly in the center of the vault, and laughed and said, the so-called ripper, it's nothing more than that.

No one wanted to think much about that, and everyone just walked briskly into the vault.

"Mr. Kossel?" A bank clerk apprehensively called out the banker's name.

There is no reflection.

Watson quickened his pace, walked over, and then possessed and nudged his huddled body on the ground.

The body was like a pile of cloth rolled together, and with the force of this push, it spread out directly on its back, and the pale face and painful round eyes showed the incredible answer to everyone mercilessly.

"No one is allowed to approach." Sherlock whispered, then looked around for a moment, and took a few steps forward to Watson's side.

"How did you die?" He asked.

Watson frowned, and repeatedly confirmed the corpse, before hesitantly replying:

"Preliminary conclusion. starved to death."

(End of chapter)