Sherlock Holmes Deductions Novels & Stories

Sherlock Holmes** is a fictional character created by Scottish Author and Physician, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, a graduate of the University of Edinburgh Medical School. He is a London-based “consulting detective” whose abilities border on the fantastic. Holmes is known for his astute logical reasoning, his ability to adapt almost any disguise, and his use of forensic science to solve difficult cases.

“Blake, I never would’ve bought that you were kissing that motherfucker of your own free will. Believe me.” “But how did you know? I mean, my body language—everything. I couldn’t control any of my actions at all.” Declan’s smile grew into a grin. “Didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to figure it out, baby. Just someone who knows you. I looked really damn closely at the security footage. He was wearing pleated khakis, and on top of that, he had a cheap shitty haircut. You would never.”

He would never hurt me. "This is ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous, I refuse to answer any more of your questions. I beseech you to drop what ever premonition you have about Mr. Angelo" "Young Miss Hardy, that is not your descision to make. It totally spun out of your choices and descision the moment you took a sip of poison. And its mainly because the victims allow their emotions to cloud their judgment just like you are doing right now. It's the job of the detectives to decide who's to be suspected and who's not"

After whatever life had turned him into. Professor Smith cleared his throat with a dry, raspy cough, his fingers shifting against the cardboard. "The parchment has the Blackwell and Dawson marks embedded into the fibers," he noted, lifting the folder an inch toward the light. Takoda didn't show a trace of surprise on his features, his chest rising in a slow breath. That baseline control bothered me more than the omission. "You knew," I said, my eyes tracking the line of his jaw. Takoda’s expression remained an unreadable mask of stone under the hall lights. "I suspected."

She just looked through the car window—Khali's thinking deep. "I'm puzzled. There are things we find out that we haven't planned. First of all, all we were after was who killed Brady, until we found out that Cassy didn't kill herself, Cassy's pregnant, but Vincent isn't the father. Then the question is, who murdered Brady and Cassy? Is that just one person or a different person? Who's the father of Cassy's child? How come Brady's involved? How do we know any quicker? Sherlock only gives us a clue. I feel he does not know what is happening. He is just aware of things. " Said Yachne

In response, Zivon replied, “I heard him mention cup noodles while he was talking to you on the phone. With that in mind, I deduced that you two were at a gas station, and after some quick research, I found that there was only one gas station along that road.” “Since I knew that he had probably drugged the noodles, I figured that he wouldn’t drive too far off to have his way with you. At the very least, I deduced that he’d stop somewhere where he was sure that there weren’t any surveillance cameras nearby,” added Zivon. …His deductive power was truly on another level… While she was now filled with admiration for him, she also felt incredibly moved. After all, this meant that despite the heav

I nodded, began to recall what happened yesterday, and then told him everything that happened from yesterday morning to the moment I was knocked unconscious. Judd frowned and said nothing, looking as if he was thinking. I asked, "What's wrong? Is there a problem? What do you think of?" He looked at me seriously and said, "Can I ask you some questions?" I nodded and said, "OK." Judd said, "You just said that you thought of several invasions of rogues that left only traces but no scent. You suspect that they used the medicament to eliminate scents. Do you think this is a clue and want us to investigate from the medicament?"

Lieutenant Hoffman heaved a sigh of relief, he had not uncovered anything yet and he hoped that he would not because that would be fatal for both he and the mysterious lady. “That was a dead end but I want to keep on probing. I need to have access to the evidence drawer lieutenant” This statement spiked Lieutenant Hoffman’s ears. “What do you need it for detective?” he asked, ready to refute his request no matter the answer. “I would like to have the parcel of cocaine retrieved from Mrs. Bennet’s purse screened for fingerprints and any DNA trace that could link it to the culprit or that would prove that Mrs. Bennet is innocent”. “That will not be possible detective Jones as the evidence has

“...We have the glass broken on the door, the dishes broken on the floor, and the blood splattered on the counter. There is a note that makes it like a suicide but the hand writing is rushed with a bit of blood droplets on it. And if we take a look at the body hanging from the fan, there is no chair anywhere around. So how could the dead hang himself? Besides, there’s hair on his clothes that does not belong to him. All of these mean he was murdered by someone.” I don’t like the superior and scornful way Rachel looks at Emma. Both of them are humans, weak and mediocre. She’s no better than Emma. “Well then Emma, what’s your deduction?” Detective Bates asks. My group are waiting to see her ma

I brushed him off with a few evasive responses before ending the call. I had mixed feelings as I stared at the files he'd sent. In the end, I took a deep breath and clicked on them. Late into the night, I sorted out my thoughts before recording a few key points on my computer and sending them to Chief Hudson. Satisfied, I went to sleep. The next morning, I was woken up by the sound of my phone buzzing. Once the call connected, Chief Hudson's voice came through the speaker, and it sounded quite grave. "Caleb, is what you sent me the deductions you've made on the case so far?"