The Kind Neighbor

Thanks to the clue provided by the kind neighbor, Scotland Yard determined that Apartment 222 was not the primary crime scene.

Someone had moved the body here in the early hours of the morning.

The coroner estimated that Philip had died sometime between three and four yesterday afternoon. Since the original owner of the body had remained in the apartment the entire time, it instead became a form of alibi.

"Your suspicion has been cleared, but there are still many doubts surrounding this case. We may need to summon you again later to assist with the investigation."

When Lestrade raised his head, his face was full of shame.

"I'm sorry. We at Scotland Yard acted too hastily and treated you as a criminal without conducting a thorough investigation."

As he spoke, the detective, usually so decisive and efficient, seemed somewhat awkward.

"Oh, it's fine."

Ye Yan waved dismissively.

As the saying went, the first time was unfamiliar, the second time familiar. As long as they did not arrest him as a criminal, it did not matter if he visited the police station a few more times.

Seeing how unconcerned the boy looked, Lestrade said nothing more. His gaze unconsciously swept over the badges on the caps of several passing constables at the entrance to Scotland Yard.

This time, he had not let the child's trust down again, had he?

Thinking of the application that had remained unsubmitted in his drawer for so long, Lestrade finally made up his mind.

He felt as though he had recovered the passion he had once held for detective work.

"Do you know anything about your missing uncle?"

"I'm sorry, Inspector." Ye Yan shook his head. "I have never met him."

"All right."

Lestrade shrugged helplessly. He had not truly expected an answer; it was merely a routine question.

Then, he handed the boy a photograph of Jules Dalmans in his youth, along with the relevant information.

"I don't know whether Jules Dalmans will come looking for you, but you are blood relatives after all. So as not to miss any important clues, I hope you will notify me immediately if you see him."

Ye Yan nodded in agreement.

He lowered his eyes and looked over the documents in his hand:

"Jules Dalmans, forty-four years old, unmarried. At the age of twenty-seven, after squandering his share of the inheritance, he was forcibly sent by his family aboard a merchant ship bound for America. During that time..."

Impressive.

In this era, Scotland Yard had managed to uncover such a clear record of a missing person's past in so short a time.

With a sense of admiration, Ye Yan continued reading.

But gradually, an unsettling feeling rose within him, especially when he saw the final sentence.

"Once sold oysters aboard a ship. His whereabouts afterward are unknown."

Ye Yan felt as if he had returned to a middle school classroom, with that familiar text from his Chinese textbook before his eyes.

"This is... My Uncle Jules?"

He murmured softly, disbelief in his voice.

"You seem surprised?"

Ye Yan said nothing, because he was afraid that the moment he opened his mouth, a beautiful Chinese curse would come out.

So this uncle was not that uncle after all.

No wonder the name "Jules" had felt inexplicably familiar when he first heard it. So this was where it had been waiting for him.

Holmes and Jules.

Conan Doyle and Maupassant would probably have to fight it out before they could decide who was the protagonist of this hodgepodge world.

Just as Ye Yan was silently complaining in his heart, Lestrade unexpectedly brought him another "surprise."

"Oh, right. I imagine you would like to thank that kind neighbor in person. He seems acquainted with Dr. Watson, who treated you earlier. Before leaving, the doctor even asked him to look after you."

"..."

Now that he had gained the memories, how could Ye Yan possibly not know who his neighbor was?

With mixed feelings, he followed Lestrade and met the kind neighbor who had testified on his behalf.

Standing some distance away was a familiar stranger.

A lean, tall frame over six feet was wrapped in a loose dark overcoat. The man's eyes were unusually sharp, and his prominent aquiline nose made him seem difficult to approach.

He looked completely different from the version in Sherlock, but Ye Yan still recognized him at a glance.

Sherlock Holmes.

At that moment, he stood among the detectives, seemingly discussing something with the others.

When the detective took a familiar pipe from his coat, Ye Yan realized that he seemed to be witnessing a Victorian-era ghost coming back to life before his eyes.

"That is Mr. Holmes, the man who testified for you."

Perhaps feeling that his introduction was too simple, Lestrade paused before adding, "He is a specially appointed professor at the Royal Research Institute and is quite famous in academic circles. He once invented a new bloodstain identification reagent that has been of great help to us."

Ye Yan froze when he heard that.

What?

A specially appointed professor at the Royal Research Institute?

Was he not supposed to be Scotland Yard's consulting detective?

Wait!

At that moment, every inconsistency he had subconsciously overlooked resurfaced in his mind like pieces of a puzzle.

Why was Watson not a retired military doctor?

Why were there so many telephone booths on the streets?

Why did Lestrade and Holmes seem so unfamiliar with each other?

Because this world was not following the original story at all.

Damn it!

The world was openly raising the difficulty on him again.

While grumbling inwardly, Ye Yan followed behind Lestrade toward Holmes.

The distance between them gradually shortened.

Holmes's voice as he spoke with the others also became clearer.

"We all know that cases involving the mysterious are bound to contain many strange elements, but that does not mean we can attribute every strange element in a case to the mysterious."

"Confusing strangeness with mystery is an error. The most ordinary crime..."

His kind neighbor tapped his pipe against the table and casually delivered that classic line from memory. As he continued his lengthy speech, Ye Yan saw the detectives' expressions become as unpredictable as the London sky.

At last, Holmes did not forget to offer a perfect conclusion tinged with mockery.

"Since I was fortunate enough to seize upon the clue you overlooked, discovering the truth was the inevitable result of logical deduction."

It was like Garen building Last Whisper—silent, yet utterly devastating.

The Holmes of this world had such terrifying offensive power. He carried something of Zhuge Liang calmly debating a hall full of scholars, making Ye Yan instinctively take a step back.

No one could tolerate an outsider questioning their professional expertise, and Lestrade was no exception.

Watching his colleagues crumble under Holmes's lecture in the blink of an eye, he grew somewhat agitated and crossed the distance in a few strides.

"Mr. Holmes, I admit that you are a shrewd and capable man, but we have our own methods of deduction."

"So, using your methods of deduction, have you discovered who the anonymous informant was who called the police twice this morning?"

"We..."

Lestrade was about to answer, but suddenly stopped.

"Damn it, how did you know about that?"

They had called the police twice?

Ye Yan, who had been listening intently, unconsciously stepped forward.

As someone who held grudges, he clearly remembered that when the two constables arrested him, they had said, "Someone reported a murder here."

So even the police did not know who had made the report?

"There is a problem with the arrival times of the constables and Scotland Yard, though something that obvious is unimportant."

Holmes shook his head. "What matters is that the anonymous informant was the one who somehow transferred Philip Dalmans's body into Apartment 222."

"What makes you so certain?"

"Inspector, there is no need to oppose me blindly. You clearly suspect it as well, do you not?"

Lestrade said nothing after hearing that.

Of course they suspected it. Without question, that informant was an important clue to solving the serial murder case.

But they could not find the person!

Both the letter and the telephone call had been made through children. When asked to describe the informant, they could only say it was an old man in a black robe whose face they could not see clearly.

There were so many elderly men in London. How was he supposed to investigate that?

"I am very interested in this case and would like to participate in the investigation as a consulting adviser."

Holmes slowly exhaled a stream of blue smoke and continued, "Do not refuse too quickly. You should know very well that I am more knowledgeable than you when it comes to mysticism."

At those words, Lestrade fell silent.

They had already submitted the report on this case to the chief's mahogany desk, yet no specialist had been sent to assist with the investigation even now.

And now, a professor from the Royal Research Institute had voluntarily offered to help investigate the case.

If they refused, they would seem rather ungrateful.

"This will need to be submitted for approval from above—"

"I have authorization."

When Lestrade saw the authorization Holmes took from his coat, he instantly understood that the other man had come prepared.

What exactly was this man after?

Holmes paid no attention to Lestrade's inner conflict. His gaze swept toward the boy standing nearby and eavesdropping, and their eyes met directly.

"The new tenant of 221B, Sherlock Holmes."

Holmes spoke with a calm expression.

"Mrs. Hudson mentioned you. If you do not mind, I would like to speak with you alone. My carriage is outside."

Ye Yan very much wanted to say that he did mind.

Experience had proven that whenever someone used "if you do not mind" as an opening, what followed was usually not a light or pleasant topic.

Especially when it was Holmes!

But Holmes had no intention of giving him an opportunity to refuse. "You may choose to refuse, but I believe that if you are wise enough, you will not shut the truth out."

Ye Yan ultimately boarded the carriage and sat somewhat stiffly inside the two-wheeled cab.

"I have always wanted to say that Scotland Yard only manages not to make mistakes when dealing with simple, childish cases."

Without warning, Holmes opened with a jab at Scotland Yard.

"They actually arrested the victim as the murderer."

He set down his pipe, a gleam of interest flashing through his eyes. "And more interestingly, someone who should have been a corpse is now sitting alive before me."

Ye Yan's heart suddenly sank.

He could roughly guess what truth Holmes wanted to discuss with him.