Erin. Ms. Adler is a legend.

She is so legendary that 90% of the people in the empire don't know her, let alone associate it with the mysterious bar that exists in every city, and only the big names in the business world are qualified to know how terrible the business acumen of this ageless woman is, and of course, even so, no one knows how much property she has, let alone how much money she has.

Money and power complement each other most of the time, and those who stand at the top of the power are certainly not poor, and those who have money also have more or less power.

But Erin is different, she is a pure businessman, pure to the point of being a little eccentric, because she has never been involved in any political power, and even deliberately avoids power, all her actions are made with money, and she never owes favors, even if it is the development of railways, she will not go to the officials of the imperial transportation department to get a relationship, but use a huge amount of money to squeeze out all the other competitors, and it is logical and unrivaled to carry this project into the bag.

Moreover, the steel, workers, mountain excavation, bridge construction and other links used during this period were all completed by herself.

Because she has a steel mill under her own hands, a large number of workers, a team of drilling machines, and bridge designers.

Although this configuration is all under the name of one person, it seems so ridiculous, but the truth is so incredible, anyway, Erin has been adhering to the concept of not intervening in politics for many years, which makes her debt-free and light, she can roam around every city in the empire unscrupulously, do whatever she wants, and no one can force her if she doesn't want to do it, because she doesn't need to look at anyone's face.

Even if the entire empire was wanted for a vicious criminal, she could have waited for the man to come to her in her own bar box.

It just so happens that the person can only come to himself, because . The rest of the people who were related to Sherlock were either unable to show up due to their status, or they had already been arrested.

At this moment, in the interrogation room of the London Magistrate's Office, a torture officer was glaring at the handsome man in front of him, and the miserable white light hit the other party's too good-looking face.

But I didn't expect that the guy in front of him completely ignored all interrogation techniques, as if he was chatting with himself.

"Where were you a month ago on the 15th?"

Under the white light, the inquisitor slapped the table, looked at the person in front of him like a hungry wolf, and asked again.

"I forgot." Watson looked at his nails and said lightly.

"! You were getting married that day! We talked about this yesterday! ”

"Oh? Really? Watson seemed to suddenly remember this: "I beg your pardon, I am a person with a very rich love life, you can see from my face, right, so for me, marriage is a passing scene, and it is understandable that I forgot." ”

It's like a punch to cotton again, and the guy in front of him is clearly the attitude of not resisting, not taking the initiative, and not cooperating.

"I want you to describe to me in detail [Sherlock. What did this man do at his wedding that day? ”

"Who? Holmes? I don't know. ”

"! It's Sherlock Holmes, he's your best man!! The tone of the interrogator's voice changed.

"Oh? I see. But as I said earlier, I don't even care about my wedding date, so of course my best man is just looking for him. ”

Just look for it, and you can find the imperial hero of the time to be your best man?

The interrogator knocked on the table angrily, feeling that the guy in front of him was treating himself as mentally retarded! But he has no way to torture him, this is the London Sheriff's Bureau, not a blood prison, everything has to pay attention to the process.

The next day, it was still the same.

On the third day, it was still the same.

"Where were you a month ago on the 15th?"

The interrogator's spirit seems to have taken a toll on his work in the past few days, and he is now exhausted, and even a little wants to escape from the room.

"Forget."

"We talked about it yesterday, it's your wedding."

"I know, I still ask."

"You know Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes? Let me remind you, he's your best man, you live at 221B Baker Street, and you've been on the battlefield together."

Watson sighed, as if he felt that it was a little boring to continue like this, so he looked at the inquisitor in front of him with pity:

"Sir, it may be hard for you to believe it, but I have worked in this building for six whole years, and my office is in the first room on the corner of the first floor, and the chair you are sitting in now will be slightly shorter on your right hind leg by half a centimeter if you lean back, because I have sat in that chair countless times.

I have no ill will towards you, so I can tell you very clearly, please don't waste your time on me.

I'm not going to say anything.

If you don't believe me, torture me, in any cruel way you can think of, and when you finally find out that you can't pry my mouth open, let me go.

I'm tired of being here.

It's good for you and me."

……

In the month since the arrest warrant was issued to Sherlock, the whole empire seems to be immersed in a strange atmosphere, and the impact of heroes becoming criminals overnight is really a bit big, and there is a smell of worry in people's work, study, and all kinds of things in life, but people can't tell what they are worried about.

In the heart of the city of Puscher, the door to a fancy apartment was opened, and Ms. Millhouse hung her expensive tunic on a hanger and turned on the wall light.

During this time, the entire empire was immersed in a strange atmosphere, and the Holy Journal, as the prestigious official newspaper of the whole empire, needed to be very cautious at this juncture, and Ms. Milhouse, as the president of the Holy Journal, the pressure on her was unimaginable to normal people.

She was tired, both physically and mentally, so she just wanted to take a good shower and get some sleep now.

But at the moment when the light lit up the whole room, her eyes shook violently, and she almost fell to the ground.

Because on the sofa in his living room, a man was waiting for him with his legs crossed, and there was still half a glass of leftover red wine on the table.

"Please forgive me, ma'am, I was a little bored waiting, so I opened a bottle of wine. Hopefully the price of this bottle isn't too staggering. ”

Although she is a woman who is nearly 50 years old, Ms. Milhouse is the president of the largest newspaper in the empire after all, and it took her two seconds to suppress the shock in her heart, and she said with some apologies:

"I'm sorry, Mr. Sherlock, this bottle of yours is the most expensive of all my collections."

"Uh" Sherlock looked at the bottle of wine in embarrassment, with a puzzled expression, in fact, he never understood how such an outrageous price could be for such a thing.

After a moment, he drank the wine in his glass with a wry smile: "Okay, but trust me, what I'm going to tell you next will definitely be worth more than this bottle." ”

Ms. Millhouse kept her countenance as calm as she could, and a fugitive wanted throughout the empire suddenly appeared at her house, certainly not to steal wine.

"Please." She walked up to Sherlock.

Of course, she was not afraid that the other party would kill her, because if this man wanted to use violence against her, she would not be able to run away no matter what. Now she just wanted to hear what kind of thing could make the man in front of her come to her home despite the danger.

"It's actually nothing new." Sherlock didn't sell it: "That's it. Now the whole empire wants me, saying that I am the murderer of Augustine the Great. ”

"You want to refute this quality control and defend yourself?" Milhouse's eyes lit up.

"No, I confess that Augustine the Great was indeed killed by me."

“.” The president blinked his eyes, looking a little dazed, but the next second.

"But at the same time, I also want to charge the former emperor with betraying the people of the empire, persecuting the candidates for the transposition ceremony, manipulating politics, and so on." Sherlock said, pulling out a small disc: "This is the audio I recorded the other day, and it contains the story of the Augustine assassination that I told myself, including the investigation process of the London airship crash, and the evidence that Augustine the Great tried to murder the Holy Son and Miss Nightingale. ”

A drop of sweat lay down from Ms. Millhouse's forehead, and she was glad that her hair was hot and wavy, which did a good job of hiding the traces of sweat.

In fact, as a journalist, she knew a lot of unknown events over the years, including many ups and downs caused by Augustine the Great in the empire, but she never imagined that one day, the evidence of these events would be in front of her.

She looked at the disc and was silent for a long time. Eventually: "To be honest, I'm a little nervous, why would you give me this kind of thing?" ”

"Because someone once promised me that the truth of this matter will be revealed to the public one day, but now that person seems to have no way to fulfill his promise, and I have become a fugitive, so it seems that the easiest and most direct way to declare the truth of this matter to the people of the empire is through the Holy Journal."

The street lamps outside the window illuminate the street very brightly, and Milhouse's apartment is on the fourth floor, not far from the street, and you can faintly hear some people outside the window who are unwilling to go home, holding flags and shouting: "We need the truth, we believe in Mr. Holmes, we oppose persecution!" ”

Soon, however, sirens sounded, and patrolling sheriffs began to disperse the procession, and there were even a few sharp curives and spasmodic wails after being beaten with electric batons.

"But Mr. Sherlock, let's not talk about whether the evidence in your hand is real or not, you may have realized that even if I really publish these recordings and evidence, it is still impossible to revoke the warrant for you, after all, you yourself have admitted that you really murdered an emperor."

"Oh, you can rest assured that I never expected me to stay in the Empire."

“？？？” Ms. Milhouse frowned, she also worked her way up from a low-level editor, and she was very sensitive to the little details that people hid between the lines.

She was a little puzzled as to why the other party would say, 'I don't expect to stay in the Empire'.

It was as if he could go somewhere else outside the Empire.

(End of chapter)