Chapter 39

39. "Come with me"

After receiving the manga preview, I waited for several days, but Sherlock received no cases or information involving a ship or cruise. I had also been hoping we could spend Christmas together at 221B Baker Street, so I wanted the case to start sooner, so it could end sooner and we could both make it back for the holiday.

Yet apart from some commotion on the first day of the break, nothing happened after that.

Worst of all, with Christmas break approaching, Miss Molly's lab had closed, and she had gone on a trip to the Mediterranean. Within the first hour of her departure, Sherlock was already thinking of simply breaking in.

I didn't think that was acceptable and refused to agree. If Sherlock wanted to go, he could go by himself.

I would rather stay home and help Mrs. Hudson with the deep cleaning. Having Earl Grey tea and refreshments with her between chores was quite nice, too.

But the deep cleaning didn't take long either. We finished it in a day.

With nothing else to do, I thought I could help tidy up the damp, moldy room Mrs. Hudson had mentioned, so she could rent it out for money later.

The little study I was staying in was rather cramped and wouldn't be easy to rent out. I was probably the only person willing to live in it.

In fact, my door couldn't open all the way because a single bed was blocking it. Simply put, only a bed of that size would fit. Later, Mrs. Hudson wanted to get me a better one, but there was no room for it.

A small desk and chair also took up quite a bit of space in the room.

There were only a few steps' worth of space to move around in.

The damp room, on the other hand, was much larger. It was three times the size of mine, somewhat bigger than Watson's, and as large as Sherlock's. It even had a small fireplace.

If the damp problem were properly dealt with, it could fetch a good rent.

Before I started, I went online to look up the causes of damp rooms.

Neither my room nor Mrs. Hudson's had any obvious damp problems, so it clearly wasn't because damp air was relatively heavy and sank. There were no damp interiors in modern apartments either, which meant the root cause was a leak.

The bathroom on the second floor was directly above the room. When the water was turned on in the bathroom, damp patches began to appear on the room's ceiling and in the corners of the walls. That meant water had already entered the structure of the room.

I needed to confirm the source of the water again, repair the bathroom, and patch up the ceiling and walls.

Mrs. Hudson rested her face in her hands and asked worriedly, "Do we need to get a plumber or electrician to help?"

I didn't think it was necessary. "There are tutorials online. It's easy."

It was just a matter of applying a waterproof coating and patching up the plasterboard.

The repairs took me two days.

The main thing was that removing the mold took time: I had to spray the entire room with mold remover and leave it to work for a whole day. Everything else was fine.

The next day, I went to inspect the results of my work.

Under the effects of the mold remover, the walls had turned pure white, as though covered in a thin layer of snow. I couldn't help thinking of the winter scenes in textbooks, with snowflakes falling on the earth and clothing everything in silver and white. This room, too, seemed to have been newly

decorated, radiating fresh vitality. Even though it still smelled sharply of chemicals, it was obvious I'd done a decent job.

Just as I was gazing at my handiwork and planning to try out how to put up the new wallpaper, a bell suddenly rang outside, pulling me out of my thoughts.

Since I had been consciously waiting all along, I suspected this might be the signal for the case. I hurriedly put down my tools and went to the door.

To my great disappointment, however, the moment I opened it, I saw a familiar face from university—Lucian.

I didn't much like spending time with enthusiastic people.

Whenever I was around them, I felt my mental energy burn away especially fast, and I always got tired easily.

I hoped I wouldn't be in the same class as him next semester.

The university's seminar system was fairly flexible. During the first three weeks of term, students could freely change seminar groups as long as there was an open seat. I figured that if I was unlucky enough to end up in his group, I'd quietly transfer out.

Before I could greet him, Lucian raised a hand and said enthusiastically, "Didn't expect me to come looking for you just a few days into the break, did you?"

My first reaction was that he'd followed me, and alarm bells immediately rang in my head.

I hadn't exchanged many words with him before Sherlock came down the stairs. He always carried himself well in public, standing straight, his gaze sharp and penetrating, as though his presence weighed down the very air.

When Sherlock appeared, Lucian's gaze was drawn to him, and his movements became restrained.

"Bring him in."

Sherlock spoke briefly, then turned and went back upstairs. I wondered if Lucian had brought a case and Sherlock had seen through it at a glance, so I let him in. Once Lucian was inside, I shut the door behind him and went to prepare for the wallpapering.

Not long after I'd started drying the walls, Sherlock called me and told me to come upstairs.

My phone was basically used for internal communication, because Sherlock couldn't be bothered to walk a few extra steps.

When he wanted Watson upstairs, he could just call out, but when I was downstairs, especially with my door shut, I often couldn't hear him. So now he was used to calling me.

As I went upstairs, I couldn't help grumbling inwardly.

I'm not finished yet...

Besides, if the case happened to be the one from the manga, I definitely didn't want to get involved.

First, the manga comments had said this was their first direct confrontation, when Sherlock realized something was wrong with Professor Moriarty. If an ordinary mortal like me got caught up in it, it would be no different from throwing my life away. With a great detective and a master criminal together, the ship would have to sink at the very least to live up to their appearances, wouldn't it?

Second, I didn't like traveling far from home either. I usually just liked staying in and had no desire to spend money. I didn't quite understand why everyone liked going out and about.

I just wanted to stay home and wait for the manga to update.

As soon as I came upstairs, Lucian got up to greet me, looking at me pleadingly.

My first thought was that his case had been too boring and Sherlock had rejected it, and there was no way I could solve it for him either. I was about to speak, but all my experience told me that speaking rashly wouldn't do me any good.

So I

looked at Sherlock, hoping for an explanation.

Sherlock leaned back in his armchair, idly playing with the skull beside him.

I can tell you, it was real.

"Lanny, why did you leave your own guest with me?"

I was immediately surprised.

I had no reputation as a detective at all. What did Lucian want with me?

He had to be here for Sherlock.

Sherlock continued, "He wants to ask you something."

I pushed Lucian, who was standing there clutching my clothes, over to a chair and said, "Whatever it is, ask Mr. Holmes for his opinion. Why ask me? I only do what Mr. Holmes tells me."

I was just a little assistant. I wasn't good for anything else.

As soon as I said that, Sherlock raised his eyebrows, a smile appearing at the corners of his mouth.

Could acknowledging him as the boss please him that much?

It seemed Sherlock was in a good mood today and easy to placate.

That was what I thought.

Lucian looked at me, then at Sherlock, and said, "I wanted to invite Lanny onto the Noah. It's a cruise ship my family recently opened for a trial run, and I thought Lanny would definitely like it. My tickets have already been delivered, too. I came by today to see how the preparations were going."

His words brought a flash of the letter I'd received at the start of the break to mind. Because Watson had said it might be a Christmas card, I hadn't even opened it and had left it in a drawer. Now that Lucian had mentioned it, I finally realized the case prop was right there in the invitation. No wonder the manga preview had included a scene of me signing for a letter and a box that day.

"I don't like cruise ships. Let Mr. Holmes and Mr. Watson enjoy it instead," I said.

As soon as I said that, Lucian's expression turned distinctly odd.

I suspected there was more to the invitation, but I didn't want to get involved, so I looked over at Sherlock. Sherlock was in no hurry either. "You're usually so close to Mrs. Hudson. With such a wonderful travel opportunity, you didn't think to offer it to her? She'd be delighted if she heard about it."

Sherlock had blocked off my escape in an instant.

If I thought it was a terrible idea, why would I give the tickets to Sherlock and Watson?

If I thought it was a wonderful opportunity but didn't let Mrs. Hudson take part, offering it to him and Watson instead, didn't that suggest I knew there was something wrong with it?

Sherlock propped his cheek on one hand and said, "Didn't it occur to you that I might not want to go either?"

His words made me shiver.

I could hardly imagine spending the next full week alone with Sherlock day and night. I'd rather go on the cruise myself. Mrs. Hudson and Mr. Watson could sit on the ship, and I could swim in the water.

"I didn't think it through."

If I'd known the case prop was in there, I would have sent the tickets straight to Sherlock and Watson under a stranger's name the moment I opened the invitation.

Lucian watched our exchange and said, "But I really hope Lanny can come."

What would I go there for?

I barely know him.

He was so

insistent that there had to be something behind it.

I shouldn't have said anything more, but if he had an interesting case, I would ask him to hurry up and pique Sherlock's interest. So I said, "Lucian, is there something you haven't told us?"

Lucian looked into my eyes, his gaze flickering. After struggling with himself for a long while, he clenched his fists and said, "Actually, I recently got a middle-class girlfriend. I'm afraid my parents won't be happy if they see her, so I wanted to ask Lanny to cover for me and say she's a friend from the same university..."

My silence was deafening.

I considered it for a moment, then went straight to the point. "Has anything strange happened, then?"

Lucian stared at me blankly for a long time. I could see from his eyes that he was thinking furiously. "Nothing strange, but I did hear a piece of gossip."

Before I could say I didn't want to hear it, Lucian became animated. "Do you know the wealthy British businessman Ivan Taber? He married a twenty-three-year-old actress, Maren Flynn, when he was sixty-eight. It's been two years, and I hear they spend more time apart than together and look ready to divorce. The last time they appeared in public together was at the start of the year, but now they've booked a place on the Noah's maiden voyage and are bringing a lawyer along. Guess what they're going to do?"

Sherlock and I fell silent at the same time.

I didn't think either of us was interested.

Lucian kept trying to build suspense. "Come on, take a guess."

I answered offhandedly, "Sign an asset transfer document?"

"A will, no, no, no..." Lucian caught himself and said to me in surprise, "How did you know?"

Because their public appearance suggested they wanted to present a friendly front. Of course, I might also have been constrained by the way people thought in China, believing that "family troubles should not be aired in public" and that there was no need to make such a show of a divorce in their social circles. Besides, from the description, if Ivan Taber really were at death's door, a doctor should have been among the people accompanying them. But Lucian clearly wasn't deliberately hiding that information; he was just saying whatever he knew, which meant it was still a little too early for a will.

I figured that if I was wrong, I'd change my answer to a will.

There was nothing embarrassing about being wrong.

Lucian had just wanted someone to join him in the guessing game. Now that I'd guessed right, he quickly moved on. "My family all thought they'd divorce. We didn't expect Mr. Talbot to love his young wife so much. You didn't expect it either, did you?"

"..."

I felt a little weary. It seemed Lucian was just a plot device for the case. Other than coming to deliver tickets to Sherlock and Watson, he knew nothing.

I didn't know how to get Sherlock to agree to the cruise either.

Just then, Sherlock suddenly said, "Very interesting." His voice was like a stone striking clear water, pulling me back to reality in an instant.

Really?

Had Sherlock picked up some clue or information from this boring gossip?

As expected of Sherlock!

I didn't understand it, but I thought this could work.

Sherlock said, "Since Lanny wants me to take part so badly, I suppose I can go."

He'd used me as a pretext to agree again.

Although I was glad he was willing to go, the way he'd put it somehow didn't

seem promising.

Sure enough, what had to come came.

In a tone seeking confirmation, Sherlock asked, "Didn't you say you only listen to me?"

The memory of what I'd said when I came upstairs was pounding against my head. I wanted to say no, but I really had said it.

Can I pretend to have lost my memory?

I'm actually just a little goldfish.

But burdened with too many moral constraints, I agonized for a while before giving up the struggle and asking, "What would you like me to do?"

Sherlock's eyes were fixed on me, as though he could see the anxiety and secrets in my heart. My heartbeat quickened, and my throat felt a little dry.

"Come with me."

Sherlock's voice reached my ears, leaving no room for doubt.

Every word seemed to strike the air forcefully, setting off waves of vibration.

The sentence was full of authority and allowed no refusal.

Perhaps he was deliberately making things difficult for me, perhaps he was testing why I kept pushing him onto the cruise, or perhaps he really had seen through the plot behind Lucian's story and needed an assistant. But his voice left me silent.

In the silence, scene after scene from the black-and-white manga flashed through my mind, along with line after line of comments. At the same time, I remembered that Professor Moriarty had strapped explosives to Watson in Sherlock.

The whole room seemed charged with tension because of my thoughts and hesitation, and an oppressive atmosphere pressed in on me.

I was already involved. I shouldn't keep thinking I could stand by and that none of it concerned me.

Besides, this was also the last case Sherlock, Watson, and I would solve together.

Over the past few days, I'd weighed the pros and cons again and again, and ultimately decided to return to my original choice.

Fail to act decisively when you should, and you'll suffer for it.

For various reasons of safety and my studies, and because I was also unable to repay them, I'd decided to move out of 221B Baker Street after all.

With that in mind, I said, "Then let's go."

I paused and searched my memory of the manga comments. None of them had actually said the ship would sink, so I continued firmly, "But we have to bring Mrs. Hudson and Mr. Watson."

I didn't want to spend that long alone in the same space as Sherlock...

I should mention something here: early on the morning we left for the port, I ran into Professor Moriarty. As he walked toward me, looking in my direction the whole way, I felt like I was going to die.