Chapter 6: Anti-Suppression Bureau

The deceased was a white man who looked to be about 30 years old. He had no beard or hair on his face, fair skin and feminine features, and a greasy middle-parted hairstyle. He was wearing a meticulously ironed white shirt and black suspenders. There was no dust on his surface, and even his posture was quite natural, as if he had just dozed off while sitting on the ground, and then naturally lay back and fell asleep.

But his face was particularly hideous, his eyes were wide open and bulging, a trace of solidified blood oozed from the corner of his mouth, and there was a twisted fear and surprise on his pale and stiff face, as if he had witnessed something extremely terrifying in the last moment of his life, so that the fear before death was deeply engraved on his body.

There was also a pool of dried radial blood near the feet of the deceased, which seemed to be spit out before he died.

This was not the first time Watson had come into close contact with a corpse. He had seen a real sea of ​​blood and corpses on the battlefield of Fulstan. Compared with this scene, it was just a child's play.

Looking at the slightly bent legs of the deceased, it seemed that he had been sitting cross-legged.

Watson suddenly had a scene in his mind - in the dark night, the victim was sitting cross-legged in front of the fireplace, perhaps meditating, perhaps reading, and suddenly some unspeakable injuries or pains attacked him, he couldn't help but spit out a mouthful of blood, and he didn't even have time to struggle for help, and finally only left a desperate scream.

If this is true... why does it feel a bit like the situation of going crazy in martial arts novels, the deceased lived alone in a secret room to practice magic, but accidentally practiced a mistake, and suffered internal injuries due to the rolling of qi and blood. Because no one rescued him, he could only wait for death silently.

Watson shook his head gently to drive out this incredible idea from his mind. He looked at the deceased's death. His clothes were neat and there were no signs of fighting. It seemed that he died of poisoning.

Holmes squatted beside the body, "Have you checked the body? Are you sure there are no external injuries?"

"Absolutely not!"

The two police elites shouted in unison.

Lestrade added cautiously: "At least to the naked eye, there are no obvious signs of beating. Although a little blood was found on the index finger of the deceased, no suicide note was found."

Grace was not to be outdone and said: "The preliminary examination results do not seem to be poisoning, at least not a conventional toxin."

Holmes nodded slightly, but did not seem to trust the two elite detectives.

She put on white gloves and touched the body. Her slender fingers touched here and there, and she unbuttoned the white shirt of the deceased to check, leaving no place untouched.

Holmes's movements were skillful and quick. In a short time, she completed a series of detailed and meticulous inspections. She was more like a professional forensic doctor than a detective.

Finally, she smelled the lips of the deceased as if to confirm. She did not smell the bitter almond smell of cyanide poison commonly used in modern times, nor any other abnormal smell, but only a faint smell of blood.

At the end, a trance and blank expression appeared on her face, and it seemed that she had found nothing.

"Send it to the forensic examination." Miss Charlotte stood up and said, "Remember to show me the detailed forensic report when the time comes."

The scene had already prepared a stretcher and people carrying it. With Grayson's order, two police officers ran in from outside with a stretcher and moved the body onto the stretcher.

While they were talking, Watson had been standing silently in the corner, always walking in the blind spot of everyone's vision with concealed movements, making people subconsciously ignore his existence, as if he was just a piece of furniture originally placed at the scene.

This can also be regarded as the sequelae left by Watson on the battlefield-always pay attention to concealing his traces.

He silently compared the body shapes of the six police officers at the scene, including the guards at the door, and they all corresponded to the derived model of the footprints he had just speculated. Only the pair of footprints at the bottom layer had not found the corresponding owner-this is very likely the trace of the murderer.

After seeing Holmes shake his head slightly and stand up, Watson was also a little surprised-it was really not poisoning? Or was it an unpopular toxin that even Holmes had never come into contact with?

Seeing that even Holmes' investigation was fruitless, he couldn't help but start to daydream - if he was the murderer of this case, how could he have created such a scene?

The seemingly unharmed body - after excluding the factor of poisoning, it seems that the only factor left is excessive shock leading to sudden cardiac death... unless the murderer has mastered the legendary dark power skills from the ancient East, and can kill people with a light press.

The scene is like a secret room - this is relatively easy, perhaps there is a secret passage or secret door hidden in the house - the small window in the attic is very suitable, and the petite person can just pass through; perhaps there is a small mechanism with a delayed closing of the door, which was not discovered when entering the door, so it is ignored for the time being.

Watson even had a bold guess, maybe the scream heard by the patrolman last night... was not made by the deceased, and it might be a means for the murderer to confuse the sight.

A scene emerged in his mind:

Last night, the deceased was sitting on the floor of the main hall, reading a book under the dim light, and suddenly, in the shadows where the light could not reach, the petite murderer suddenly jumped out, and the murderer used some unknown means to frighten the victim to death.

Then the murderer quickly cleaned up the traces of his presence, ran quickly to the attic, and got out of the small window.

At this time, the murderer saw the patrolman holding a lantern not far away. For some kind of show-off, arrogance or distraction, he/she suddenly decided to hide behind the house and make a seemingly miserable cry after erasing the traces in the courtyard, attracting the patrolman to check.

When the patrolman broke into the house with great effort, he/she would only see the victim lying on the ground, and would mistakenly think that the victim had just died.

"However, there is still a doubt here..." Watson touched his chin and thought: "If the first patrolman who entered the crime scene... concealed the facts at the scene, or was simply an accomplice/principal offender... then my inference must be overturned."

At this time, the police officers had just lifted the dead body, and Watson, who was squatting in the corner, keenly discovered that there seemed to be a faint dark red mark on the floor under the body.

He pointed to the suspected evidence and shouted, "Hey, come and have a look. There seems to be something written on the floor."

Lestred, who was carrying a pipe with him, immediately squatted down, struck a match on the sole of his boot, and came close to the floor.

On the rotten wooden floor, where the body had been covered, there were a few blood-red letters scribbled, as if the deceased had written with his fingers dipped in blood before dying:

Lantern

"Lantern?!"

Everyone's eyes were cast on the exquisite kerosene lamp in front of the deceased.

Lestred pondered, "Is this a clue left by the deceased, or a message from the murderer?"

Grayson exclaimed, "Lantern... This case looks more complicated."

Holmes had already picked up the kerosene lamp and observed it carefully. The kerosene lamp looked very clean and transparent, and there was still a lot of fuel left at the bottom.

But she looked left and right, but couldn't find any useful clues...

Why did the victim leave a 'lamp' before dying?

"Let's not talk about this for now. Please make way for me. I need to check this room carefully."

Miss Charlotte took out the tape measure and magnifying glass that were hidden somewhere, and began to walk slowly along the whole room, corners, windowsills, corridors, attics... She walked around, muttering to herself, sometimes stopping, sometimes squatting, sometimes lying down, completely ignoring the image of a lady, but like a crazy person who was obsessed.

But in Watson's eyes, the female detective felt more like a vigorous and agile fox hunting lightly in the forest. It seemed to be playful, but in fact it was patiently searching for the traces of prey.

This was the first time he followed the female detective to handle a case on the scene. The other party's appearance of being alone and immersed in the world of investigation amazed him. He thought that she was worthy of being a famous detective in the future. With such a fanatical work attitude, what could she not accomplish?

However, to Watson's surprise, the attic floor was covered with thick dust, and it didn't look like anyone had passed through it... Could there be another secret door?

He and Charlotte checked for half an hour, but found no useful clues at all. The solemn expressions on their faces became more and more serious.

The two official detectives asked anxiously: "Ms. Holmes, have you come up with any results?"

The female detective remained calm, "The case is indeed more complicated than I thought. If possible, I would like to meet the patrolman who found the body last night and talk to him."

Grayson and Lestrade looked at each other and smiled gloatingly. When they looked at each other, they could see the relief in each other's eyes.

Compared with Holmes finding useful clues at the scene, they hoped that she would find nothing, which would prove that the investigation of this case was in trouble, not because of their lack of ability.

Now it seems that this amateur colleague is not as good as the legend!

"Of course, no problem." Grayson replied happily, glancing at the notebook in his hand, "Patrolman John Lance who found the body is now off duty. His registered address is 3-406 Audley Apartments, Kennington Park Road."

"Remember to give me the forensic report."

After saying this, the female detective turned and left, and Watson followed closely behind, leaving the two elite detectives behind.

…………

After they left, Lestrade suddenly took the initiative to discuss with his nemesis: "Grayson, do you think... Will this case involve 'those things'?"

He stammered, "Why don't we..."

Grayson nodded heavily and agreed: "Even Sherlock Holmes couldn't find any useful clues... I think this case is most likely caused by 'those things'!"

"In my opinion, we don't need to wait for the forensic results anymore. It's better to kill the wrong person than to let him go! Report it directly to the Suppression Bureau!"