Salomon was very pleased. Even though someone was pointing a finger at his nose and questioning him, he was still very pleased. He liked intelligent people, and this candidate's keen observational skills and logical reasoning displayed the level of intellect a rational human ought to possess. Compared with Stephen Strange, he favored Sherlock Holmes. Holmes was calm, rational, and had no religious faith—probably. As for antisocial personality disorder, Salomon himself had been described that way before, so he did not care much about it. However, before the final trial was over, he could not show favoritism toward either side. He had to let both tests continue.
"That's quite a stretch, Mr. Holmes," he said. "Couldn't I simply have been asking the café owner downstairs for information while waiting for you to return to the flat? I don't see what my financial situation has to do with Eleanor. We haven't been in touch for a long time, and I don't care about her. But she is still my relative. I cannot simply leave her lying in the police morgue. That isn't affection—it's responsibility."
"He's right, Sherlock." The wary Watson immediately relaxed, then took Salomon's side. "Perhaps you encountered a very strange case today, but that doesn't mean everyone is suspicious."
"I never guess, but you make a valid point. Let's hear what you have to say." Sherlock Holmes nodded, seeming to accept Salomon's explanation with surprising ease. Watson found this baffling. His flatmate was an exceptionally stubborn man, so why was he being so reasonable this time?
Salomon felt that he ought to be more careful. He planned to find an opportunity to return to the crime scene and see whether there was anything there that might make Holmes think of him. As for the Scotland Yard officers surrounding the scene,