Chapter 15: It's As If An Old Friend Has Arrived (1)

  ……

  "Sherlock, where are you going?"

  Back to Baker Street.

  "The boss of Czechoslovakia is still lying on the ground!"

  "This kind of case below third level does not need to go on site."

  "...since you already knew who the murderer was without going to the scene, why didn't you just tell me directly and instead made me run out here with you in the cold wind?"

  For a second, Sherlock's tall back stiffened, then he took two steps back and picked up a cup of coffee from a vending machine.

  "I'm thirsty."

  "Don't tell me your family doesn't have coffee, who is the murderer?"

  His wife.

  Sherlock opened a can of coffee with an expressionless face, interrupting his incessant inquiry.

  "Data! Data! Data!" Sherlock.

  Perfume.

  "Perfume?"

  "On your neck, apart from the smell of inferior fake wool, there is also the scent of a woman's perfume, and on your arm, there is the same kind of smell."

  "My shirt is made of wool."

  "Imitation wool."

  Wool.

  Sherlock fell silent, with an "I don't care if you believe it or not" expression, showing his disdain for Lestrade's intelligence through his indifference.

  Rustred decided never to buy shirts from that store again. "But this doesn't prove anything, Sherlock."

  Sherlock sneered, "It tells everything... Two hours ago a woman threw her arms around your neck and wept."

  "Don't stop, keep going, thank you."

  "Considering you were working on the case two hours ago... it couldn't have been Donna, I saw her last time and she was already with Allen, so it must be the victim's wife..."

  "What! When were Dono and Allen together...?"

  Sherlock went on as if he hadn't heard:

  "And your arm has the same scent of perfume, the victim's wife had cried on your shoulder for a while, judging from the wrinkles on your shirt, she might have taken a liking to you."

  "So the smell on your arm..." Rastreador pondered: "Is it from when I moved the corpse?"

  "The inferior perfume contains too much acetaldehyde which is very pungent and obvious, although you seem to have not noticed it. The mobile phone's first launch address:"

  Sherlock was getting annoyed at having to spell it out every time: "I'm not ruling out the possibility that you picked up the victim's wife and carried her horizontally."

  Reidar furrowed his brow: "I suspected his wife, but there was no evidence to prove that she came from the East District to Czech Company last night."

  Subway.

  "Absolutely impossible," said Ressler. "There are cameras at every subway exit. I've already checked."

  "It's not necessarily from the exit."

  "You mean there's another way out?"

  Sherlock strode ahead, saying sarcastically, "Ha! The Scotland Yard detective doesn't even know how many drainage outlets there are in the London subway."

  "....Sherlock, don't act like a hedgehog that has eaten gunpowder, I understand Miss Ludwig made you angry - though I also don't know why you must have her go to the scene."

  Sherlock said quickly, "Only the lack of a case would annoy me. Humans can't make me angry. I'm fine."

  "Can't Sherlock Holmes' object of admiration be called an ordinary human being?"

  "Restored."

  "Sherlock sneered: 'Don't impose your taste on me and make unfounded judgments.'"

  "Before you call her a Vichy, you can use this to refute me."

  Rasheed smiled:

  "Admit it, Sherlock, you're rattled. At least I've never heard you call Mycroft 'Mike'."

  "Rather than spending time here thinking about emotional issues, it's better to get the inspection report done while the smell is still obvious."

  "How about you?"

  "Back to Baker Street."

  "Is the case solved just like that?"

  "It's broken just like this"

  Ludwig is not in the room.

  She returned to her new home and couldn't concentrate on reading, so she changed into a different outfit and went to the nearest bar.

  It wasn't until later that I realized with a sense of embarrassment... I had no money left.

  The cash she has left on her is calculated for each day, and if she spends more today, it means that in the not-too-distant future, Ludwig's foodie girl will go hungry.

  Erich had just escaped from a group of ladies who were pestering him to mix cocktails, when he saw Miss Ludwigh sitting alone and forlornly at the bar.

  She was wearing a very short shiny suspender dress and a long embroidered coat with cut-outs, looking quite stunning, but drinking... soda water?

  "It seems no one will be buying you a drink tonight, miss."

  Ludwig was drinking water gloomily, heard a voice, raised her head, and saw a handsome brown-haired guy leaning against the bar, smiling at her with flowing eyes, but not making people feel light.

  Ludwig smiled: "So direct, isn't that a gentleman's demeanor? Are you here to suppress me for fun?"

  "No." He lowered his voice and smiled mysteriously, yet without the pretentiousness that usually made men of this type so repulsive.

  "I'm here to rescue the princess."

  "Oh." Ludwig stared at the somewhat familiar man in front of him, shaking the soda water in his hand as if it were red wine. "Unfortunately, there's no princess here, only a witch."

  "Miss, permit me to praise you like this: You are a witch and also a princess."

  His eyes shone deeply, gently and unwaveringly at Ludwig.

  Under the dazzling lights, his eyes cast a dense, ink-like shadow downwards.

  At that moment, if they hadn't been complete strangers, Ludwig would have really believed he had loved her for a long, long time.

  He had always kept her in his heart.

  From past, present, to future.

  This smile...

  This smile...

  There was a moment when the noise of the bar, the lights and the chatter all disappeared.

  All that was left in Ludwig's eyes was that warm and clean smile.

  ……

  The wistful smoke of the brazier dances with purple sleeves, and the empty wine cup leaves a green stain on one's shirt. Where in this world can one ask about deep emotions?

  As a child, I used to squat on the small bluestone slab at the door of my house and recite a sentence. After pulling through more than ten years, suddenly because of this familiar smile, it rolled out from the depths of memory.

  I've already forgotten where the words came from, but I remember the person who taught her how to write them.

  He held his wrist, and the brush fell onto the white Xuan paper, the ink color was faintly visible, and flowers were born under the pen.

  That season, the purple flowers outside the window were still young and small, the painted eyebrow on the porch had not yet faded, its clear and crisp cry echoed back and forth, as if to awaken a spring.

  ……

  No, this is too absurd, Levi...

  He was just an under-twenty high school graduate after all.

  Ludwig gripped his water glass tightly, the pain shooting from his fingernails and clearing the chaotic thoughts in his mind.

  ……

  Because Ludwig had been staring at her for far too long, just as the man thought this was her response, smiling and wanting to drop a light kiss on her cheek, he heard Ludwig say:

  "Do you know me? Who are you?"

  Alicia was at a loss whether to laugh or cry: "Alicia, my name is Alicia. You were in my coffee shop a few days ago drinking coffee and we exchanged names. Don't you remember?"

  Ludwig suddenly remembered that the man in front of her was none other than the rich playboy who had disguised himself as a waiter three days ago and flirted with her while pretending to be extremely innocent, wasn't he Erich, the coffee shop owner?

  Alicia sighed: "You really disappoint me."

  Ludwig flattered effortlessly: "It must be my memory that's frustrated, it can't even remember a classmate who sat at the same table with me for three years in high school, let alone a man I've only met once? No matter how great this man is."

  This is actually true, she basically didn't attend high school classes, who knows what her deskmate was like?

  "Have you forgotten everything?" He smiled, but his eyes drooped slightly, casting a shadow on his face from his eyelashes.

  "Your past friends will probably be heartbroken when they hear your words."

  Ludwig said nonchalantly, "So friends who are remembered by me will be even happier."

  "You're absolutely right... Would you do me the honor of having a drink with me?"

  "Mr. Erics, you should at least know my name before inviting me for a drink."

  He was taken aback for a moment, then said in a low voice, "I don't even know your name."

  He bowed his head slightly, lifted his face, and smiled like a thin mist on a clear morning.

  "Miss, may I have the honor of knowing your name?"

  "Ludwig." She raised her hand with soda water as if raising a red wine.

  But turned his head away.

  "Ludwig...Vichy." He muttered these two words in a low voice, and his smile suddenly brightened up: "Vichy."

  "I think you understand, Vishi is not a surname, Ludwig is my name."

  "I don't want to address you so formally."

  His eyes were soft as he looked at her, just like looking at a loved one for a long time.

  Why?

  Ludwig suppressed his chaotic thoughts due to her smile and bowed his head to drink water.

  I must have been starving just now... otherwise, how could I have such a strange idea...