Chapter 50 Edward Moriarty

Chapter 50 Edward Moriarty

The fire in the fireplace crackled, and Sherlock, who had simply covered himself with a thick woolen coat, slowly opened his eyes.

His almost amber brown pupils slowly focused and gradually became sharp.

With a deep and forceful inhalation, Sherlock struggled to sit up from the rocking chair with a creak.

He got up and used the chemical instrument on the table to boil a cup of water for himself with trembling hands. It was only heated to 30 or 40 degrees, just to get rid of the cold of the winter morning, so he added three full spoons of honey.

After drinking it all, he closed his eyes silently, standing straight in place.

He seemed to be savoring the taste of the honey water, and seemed to be recovering his strength quickly.

After a long time, he slowly opened his eyes. The Sherlock Hermes who was always calm and unhurried finally returned completely.

"Why am I third?"

He murmured in a low voice: "Except for 'Bone Sculpture', who else can score higher than me? Fox or Coco?"

After thinking for a while, he kept this doubt in mind.

He immediately began to think about another thing:

"Who did the pale and skinny hand belong to in the scene just now? Who was the fat man?

"The illusions that will be displayed at the settlement must be important scenes related to the task. And they are arranged in the order in which things happened. 'Fox's' suicide determined our victory, and that happened afterwards...

"Is that fat man the murderer? In this case, who does the white hand belong to?"

There are only two possible people.

Either Bone Sculpture or Coco. Both of them are possible... Their faces did not appear in the picture.

But considering that "Fox" has two pictures, it means that his points may be higher than Sherlock. Then if Coco is counted, there will be not enough space.

That is to say, the person who gets the most points for the "Kill the Murderer" task is most likely Bone Sculpture.

——What a dangerous person.

A demon scholar who can kill a demon scholar of the second level with the first level... His other path may be of a very high level.

"Lars Graham..."

Sherlock muttered in a low voice and took out a file from the cabinet behind him.

The lighting in his room was average, the space was narrow, and the ventilation was not good. The air was filled with the smell of chemical reagents mixed with dust. The bookshelves and tables were scattered with ritual materials, books, and various files.

Although it looked messy, he actually knew where the different things were placed. At least he could always find them easily.

He pulled out the file, walked to the window, squinted his eyes and read it carefully.

"Born on February 29, 1824... 74 years old."

Iris Man, born in the small town of Higwell. His father was a baker and his mother was a tailor.

"At the age of 14, he began to learn sculpture from Master Albert Adelaide, and at the age of 18, he embarked on the path of beauty. When he was 23, the master died, and he was recommended to study at the University of the West. At the age of 28, he was hired as a tutor by the University of the West.

"At the age of 34, he held his first sculpture exhibition, at the age of 38, he began to be called a master, and at the age of 46, he became the vice president of the School of Art at the University of the West..."

Sherlock muttered in a low voice, quickly checking the information at hand.

Then, his eyes focused on the middle part of the third page:

"...In 1893, he was invited to Avalon to carve a statue for Queen Sophia. This work was completed in February 1896.

"...In 1895, he became a specially appointed art professor at the Theological Seminary of the Royal Law University, teaching "General Aesthetics". This job was resigned in June 1898."

Five years ago, he went from Iris to Avalon to carve a statue for the queen who had a premonition of her imminent death. This was his last job.

Three years ago... before the statue was completed, he began to teach aesthetics at the seminary. And he only taught for three years.

Although the scene was only a flash.

But Sherlock saw clearly that the white girl ghost was wearing the uniform of the seminary.

"... Interesting."

Although there is still the missing person's inspection, it is almost certain now.

This person is very troublesome to deal with. As an international public figure, and a foreigner... it requires definite evidence to convict. And I am afraid that the only punishment is expulsion.

But if it can be verified that he has embarked on the path of dusk, it may be much easier to deal with.

"The bone sculpture is not easy to move for the time being, fox..."

Sherlock murmured in a low voice: "Who are you?"

There is no hurry to write the report to Her Majesty the Queen.

He must first verify the information given by the fox, and then judge the fox's position based on the results.

So Sherlock thought for a while, sat at the table to write and draw. It was a map of the Lloyd's District, and he was calculating the location of the abandoned chemical plant.

Then, Sherlock suddenly picked up the phone on the table and turned the heavy dial on the phone with one hand.

The phone rang only twice and was immediately picked up.

"Morning, Edward."

So Sherlock clamped the microphone around his neck, continued to draw on the map, and said very quickly: "My dear friend, I hope you have woken up - I mean, not woken up by me, but woke up naturally. Yes, I have something to find you - yes, it's very troublesome. So I need your help, very urgently. Please come to me immediately, I can treat you to breakfast, the place of your choice.

"—Yes, in Lloyd's District. It's called the Sweater Brotherhood. Do you remember it?"

At this moment.

Red Queen, Office of the Inspector General.

Inspector General Edward Moriarty was picking up the phone with his white-gloved left hand.

He has short, pure black hair, which is neatly combed back. On the slightly angular face, the black eyes are as deep as the abyss.

Compared to his younger siblings, Edward's appearance is much more ordinary. His cheekbones are slightly high and his face is square. It gives people a feeling of righteousness and awe-inspiringness.

He was leaning back in his seat, wearing the inspector's signature black suit, which looked like mourning clothes. His physique was so strong that he could fill his suit to the full with ease. The thick coat only reached to the waist, and the lower body was made up of slim-fitting black trousers and black leather shoes. There was a white handkerchief in his breast pocket, a white glove on his left hand, and nothing on his right hand. The knuckles and bones are exceptionally clear, giving people a sense of strength.

Edward looked obviously unhappy, but he didn't hang up the phone actively.

After all, this is his best friend, his classmate...his most reliable old partner.

Inspector Moriarty's ungloved right hand slowly touched the paper.

There was a long list of names on it--it meant "to be inspected."

"The Sweater Brotherhood..."

Edward murmured in a low voice, squinting his eyes as he recalled, "I've heard of this name, but I'm not impressed by it."

His voice is deep and magnetic, giving people a reliable and steady feeling.

"That should be a group of stranglers. They were named this because when they were in poverty, they relied on the support of the current leader's mother, who gave each of them a set of sweaters with a similar pattern. Later, when they came out to become a gang, they became known as This sweater serves as the name of the organization.

"What, did they offend you? Or do you want to bribe them to do something for you?"

"——According to reliable information, they may be related to the people behind the Pelican Bar. And I got intelligence about their gathering place."

On the other end of the phone, Sherlock's slightly distorted voice came: "So I invite you to investigate with me. I do have some concerns. If this information is true, then there are indeed dangerous factors that may kill me. ”

Upon hearing this, Edward frowned slightly.

Under his black pupils, there was a dazzling silver-white light gradually gathering and shining.

"really?"

Edward said solemnly: "You know who is behind them."

"Sixty percent. After all, I haven't had time to verify it yet." Sherlock replied.

"Your sixty percent is already very high, Hermes. I believe you."

"Then meet at my house, Inspector General. Bring your sidearm and white gloves."

"Okay, see you later."

Edward finished speaking crisply and hung up the phone.

He put a beautiful white short gun on his waist and hung two elf-style silver short swords.

Then, Edward took out the white whistle necklace from his collar and blew it hard.

The white whistle didn't make any sound, but after a while, the sound of a griffon flapping its wings was heard outside the floor-to-ceiling window.

He opened the window and put his black griffin mount in so that it could eat something first.

After eating, he was ready to ride a griffon to Sherlock's house.

At this moment, there was a knock on his office door.

"——The report is given to Deputy Chief Assad."

Edward made a cold voice: "Go to Mrs. Hong for material approval. I want to go out."

"It's me, Edward."

The soft, gentle voice of his adoptive father, James Moriarty, came from the doorway.

Edward raised his eyebrows, and his iceberg-like stern and cold face relaxed slightly.

He immediately went over to open the door.

Because he was much taller than his adoptive father, he bowed slightly and his tone became gentle: "Father, what's the matter? Come to me so early."

"Are you going out?"

The polite old gentleman glanced at the griffin who was eating in the room, lowered the brim of his hat, and made a gentle joke: "It just so happens that I also have to go on a long trip."

"Far away? How far?"

"Go to the Theocracy. I originally wanted Oswald to go for me, but after thinking about it, I'd better go by myself for such a big thing. Come back in about two weeks, and take care of your younger brothers and sisters during this time."

Old James said warmly: "Oh, by the way. Aiwass is going back to school, please remember to make arrangements."

"No problem, Father."

The silent and stern young man nodded slightly: "I will go home during this period to protect the safety of Aiwass and Yulia."

"Well, that's good. The Glass Island is going to be in chaos... and there's one more thing," Old James added slowly, "let's wrap up the Pelican Bar incident and clear up the clues. That's the end of it. If anyone wants to continue investigating, just leave them alone.”

"……yes."

"Oh, right."

Old James suddenly asked: "Have you not found the letter I asked you to find before?"

"Yes, indeed not."

Edward replied: "Corpse No. 2 has lost a lot of things that should be there. Even her 'Noble Red' is missing."

"That should be taken away by Aiwass."

Old James said warmly: "After all, Veronica's 'Noble Red' is also in your brother's hands. If that's the case, then don't look for it."

"Father," Edward couldn't help but ask, "Which minister is in contact with the association...can you tell me? If I don't know anything, I can't protect Aiwass?"

"Shh..."

Old James smiled and put his finger in front of his mouth.

Edward fell silent immediately.

The old man said slowly: "If Aiwass will be in danger because of his justice and curiosity, then let him solve it by himself. Just last night, I observed the aura of the dream world. Aiwass began to conduct the first This is the first advancement ceremony...The child finally started to have some secrets of his own, and I am very satisfied. "

He squinted his somewhat cloudy gray pupils and said warmly: "As for the spies, I advise you not to know. Secrets are a kind of power. But secrets cannot be a sharp blade in your hands, they will only become shackles of your mind. ”

"Father……"

"—Soon. Edward, soon. I will leave all this to you sooner or later...but it's far from now."

"...What now? What should I do now?"

Edward was silent for a while and added: "Except for the finishing touches at the Pelican Bar..."

"Now you should do what you wanted to do before. Aren't you just about to go out?"

The old man who would never get angry narrowed his eyes, patted the tall Edward on the shoulder, and smiled kindly: "But remember to eat some food. If you don't eat breakfast, it will be bad for your stomach."