روايات وقصص ضمن Sherlock Holmes

If Hunter was meeting someone there, it has to be an important business. Indeed it was. Through the man Enzo left on Hunter's tale, I unearthed that he was meeting a man I've heard quite often about. Jack Stones, a well-known investigator who made it to the headlines for solving many cases. He was the best in his work. So best that he was called a speed demon for getting cases solved ridiculously fast— just hours after taking them on.

He wasn't unhinged enough to defy the police outright—not yet. "A misunderstanding? You've been standing outside my door all this time, and you call it a misunderstanding?" "No, I—I… I just—ah… you—" His words tangled into a stutter. He always tripped over himself when nervous, I remembered. I risked another glance through the peephole. His face was flushed red, and his body fidgeted with restless anxiety. He spun in place like a trapped animal—hardly the image of a cold-blooded murderer.

Saul fussed staring somewhere ahead of him and hissed in pain when he tried to move his hand. “Do not move your right arm until the stitches heal.” Carson gravely warned Saul. “Do you know how dangerous of a man Sherlock Hanes is? He is the country's biggest criminal with a host of underworld businesses. And you went right into the devil's den like you were going to a honeymoon, without even a third person coming to know about it.” Carson complained.

Someone who, hopefully, could make it easier for him to find out Aura’s whereabouts. "Good evening, with Mr. Clinton?" "Yes, that's correct. Are you with Mr. Herbert August?" "Yes." Clay extended his hand, shaking hands formally. "Finally, we can meet in person. I know what I'm asking for may be a bit difficult, but I don't know who else to ask for help other than you." "It’s no problem, besides, I do enjoy doing investigations. It seems like Sherlock Holmes and Agatha Christie have influenced my brain," Herbert joked, making Clay laugh, happy to meet someone on the same frequency.

A faint smile tugged at his mouth as he reached for the bottle of whisky on his desk. Suddenly, the lights went out. At first it was a flicker—an almost polite interruption. Then the whole building inhaled the night: corridors flattened into shadow; monitors died and cameras turned off. For a beat the silence was almost elegant. The darkness spread through the high-ceilinged floors and down the marble stairways, swallowing the soft clink of glass and the rustle of paper. “Power outage sir,” someone muttered close to the door. “Emergency generator—” “Find it! Damn it!” Holmes snapped. His secretary suddenly stood up and waited in the corner of his desk. He hated puzzles. He hated interruption

All men are animals, this one is just sad. Realizing that there was no one in the building, I began to search every drawer I came across. Documents covered in dust laid on the table, bed and in drawers. I searched the content of every document and I couldn't find anything, just sealing mafia relationship documents. When I thought all hopes were lost, I was about to take my leave when I saw a drawer that I haven't checked. It had a lock combination on it. I knelt down and began to try different codes. "321" a loud noise erupted and a red light blinked once.

It was soft and gray, stuffed with tiny beans that shifted as he moved it in his hands. Beneath one of its ears, he noticed a small splotch of dried blood. "Ah," he said, standing. He held it out for Riley to see. "Watson," he said solemnly, "How did a blood-stained stuffed animal get out here, when our lonely farmer died inside the house?" Riley gave him a dubious look. "I think you have us confused. I'm definitely Sherlock." Kadeem smiled faintly, though his chest weighed heavy with foreboding. "Crack the case and I'll call you anything you like."

Inspector Donovan turned out to be a rather young man, about thirty-five, dressed in a classic suit with a formal dark tie. A perfectly standard average British appearance, but with a surprisingly tenacious look of light gray eyes. Lou noticed with surprise that the inspector was clean-shaven, and it was deep night outside. Hmm... Louis touched his chin mechanically - his stubble had already come out, he shaved in the morning... So much the better, such a person is sure to be meticulous and consistent in his work.

A laugh came out from inside the room: "Ha-ha luckily you finally came, I was advised by Director Vincent to cooperate with you in this case. I'm Leonard, deputy captain of the city A police department, nice to work with you” He entered to the surprise of the police. A female police officer shouted: “Could it be that he is Albert, the famous criminal psychologist detective who has solved many difficult cases. I still have his book The Punisher here. The book is about the tough murders he has solved, including his analysis of the psychology of criminals in detail. I didn't expect him to be so young and handsome."

But right now. I release another arrow near the emergency exit located at the top of the stairs when it was burned to ashes by a fireball. "Looks like I managed to lure some big fishes," I stated once four hooded figures emerged from the shadows. Their aura is way different than any of the other B-class assassins that have surrounded the school. "Hmm... Ah! You are the son of the assassins of the white clan, right? What's your name again? Was it Hans something?" a female voice mocked as they took a step down the stairs.