Named Sherlock

by Bagatur Zhamkochyan

  At that decided to do. Turning off in times of peace, we set a minimum for the battle mode. I think it will be correct.

  With this done. Closing the window was not more than the timer of my stay in the private room, which cheerfully counted the last ten minutes.

  Well, that soon I will expose here almost daily, and I do not even have time to look around. While it is recognized the look was almost nothing. The very little room tiny area of about 6 meters. Bleached, roughly plastered walls, narrow window. Cot with a thin mattress and a gray blanket, in the legs chest. Sighted near a window table and there is also a wooden chair.

  The atmosphere a little bit poor, but the need is there. Chest is not locked, but I think it can be safely stored the most valuable. Although the store until I have nothing.

  By the way, I pay attention to one thing. My clothes for the night became absolutely clear. One could assume that it anyone has washed, but the fact is that yesterday I fell asleep in it. And it remained fitted on me just became clean. Apparently, one more game time.

  Okay, it's not so important. We had to think about today's plans. At the moment, the most important seemed to me 2 quest is to them I was going to focus on in the first place. We had to do something to help Molly find a pawnshop Norrie.

  Although the second quest, and there was no time frame, but I thought that it would be advisable not to delay too. This is a pawn shop, there just may come and people buy watches. And then their searches even more complicated.

  The second point on which I would like to think - it's a strange crystal and future work Molly. I do not know why, but it seemed to me that there is some connection ... A man who is only interested in virgins ... The girl, strangled in the park, too, was a virgin. Maybe it has nothing to do, but something tells me that this should be addressed.

  Even my strange dream ... Remembering it, I instantly cold sweat. Nonsense, of course, but as real. As if I was present there.

  There was a knock at the door interrupted my thoughts. On the threshold stood a short, plump little boy, a little older than me. He had a pleasant, friendly face, blond hair.

  - Hi, - he said, smiling shyly - you're Sherlock? Miss Emily sent me for you, to show where our dining room. Let's go to?

  - Hi, - I could not help but smile back. - Let's go to. I Sherlock, do not you? What's your name?

  - I'm Donny. That is, Donald. Donald Watson - a little hesitantly, apparently embarrassed, replied the boy.

  Watson? Donald Watson. John Watson ... Sherlock and Watson. Terrific!

  Chapter 7.

  No, well, you can not! For a moment it seemed to me that the system, or against, or who they charge here, in general, some of them are just laughing at me. There is a feeling that I just pushed to certain actions and demeanor. First, my name is ambiguous, as the deduction ability, and now even the Watson ...

  Yes, I love detective as a literary genre, and it is a classic English, when there is no fire, piles of corpses and sultry beauties with bare breasts, but only beauty, design elegance and quiet work of intelligence. When you open a confusing thing, drinking tea and not getting up from his chair.

  But it is one thing to read detective, and quite another - when you are trying to make out his character. I can not use the deduction, and indeed, there is a suspicion that my gray cells do not so gray. And it is very unfortunate if expected of me, that I start to give out something like, "You have red clay on the left shoe, different buttons on the jacket, and the head 2 of the day not myta Killer - the butler.". I do not know, though ... Although, maybe try?

  Well, what details do I find out about my companion? Thus, the nails bitten on his left hand, right hand stained with ink, and the right hand was shiny. At the same time, the rest of his clothes very neat, clean, ironed. Blond hair combed side parting. Posture tense, his hands crossed on his chest, looking in the direction in the floor, to the side, but not in the other person's eyes.

  So, what we have - a full, timid, shy boy of approximately 12 years, he has written, while when he writes - Strong waves. I am very concerned about their appearance.

  It seems to me, in 12 years old boy ready to worry about how it looks, only in one case - if the girl involved. He writes most likely either a letter or poetry. But, judging by what he is timid and dreamy-looking, most poetry. Come on, let's check!

  - And you showed her his poems?

  Wow! Bingo! It seems that I accidentally hit the nail on the head. Not only that, the boy backed away from me with a look as if I had pulled out of a live tiger sinus, so still and the system is not left out, gave me another achievement:

  - you get the achievement "see the unseen!" - expertly using your main weapon - intelligence, and calling upon the logic and a little luck, you can see hidden!

  The award - Perception 1 (3)!

  - Oh-oh-oh-where are you s-s-you know? - surprise he began to stutter more.

  Now, according to the laws of the genre, I would say: "Elementary, Watson!", And detail to paint all his conclusions. But no, do not hold your breath:

  - Oh, I heard somewhere.

  - T t-you did just yesterday there appeared, how could you hear?

  - I do not know, it does not matter, maybe just confused with someone else. I do not remember - I, frankly, have already regretted that he said so. - Listen, Donald ... I've signed up, and I will need your help. You can tell all that I need to know to survive here?

  - Tell you? Of course I can - boy beamed instantly forgetting about the episode with verses. Perhaps he did not have too many friends, for some reason, I thought. - Just let go quickly and smoothly at 8 we have breakfast, if late, do not get to lunch.

  The dining room is on the first floor. It was quite a bit gloomy room. Light entering through the tall, narrow windows, unable to cope, and the room is illuminated by a dozen extra large kerosene lamps.

  In addition to two long, parallel to the table stand and a set of chairs around them, other furniture was not.

  On chairs in front of empty plates while, we sat the children, most of my age, but there were younger. A few places are free. I spotted two adjacent, and nodded to them Donny. Hesitantly, he pursed his lips, as if he wanted to say something, but said nothing. In complete silence, under the gaze, we sat down at the table.

  Nothing happened, there was no food, children continued as silently staring at me. Out of boredom, I began to consider the neighbors.

  I am sitting right in front of the boy, even more red than I am. And terribly freckled. My skin is milky white, and he was covered with hundreds of freckles. Trying to search out in its appearance features that would tell me about his character or lessons, I suddenly saw over the head of red, hanging in the air translucent plate, "Martin Ollie child, 4 level."

  Wow, before I could not. Apparently, the increased level of perception borne fruit. Come on, look at Donnie. Turning to his new friend, squinted, stared intently. Information plate did not make them wait, "Donald Watson, child, 5 level."

  Interesnenko! After spending a quick glance along the entire number of children who sat at my table, I was convinced that no windows do not appear. That is, I had to do this for a certain mental effort. It is very good.

  On the one hand - the ability is definitely useful, but on the other hand ... if it includes unchecked, this would be a catastrophe. I visualize - that I'm surrounded by a crowd of people, and each plate over the head with its data, such as windows and above all things around, on clothing, furniture, trees on the street. Even the information window hangs over every pigeon: "Pigeon ring, 1 level". Horror!

  Speaking of things. I stretched out his hand, stared into the sleeve jacket and read with satisfaction: "The jacket student's level 1, the strength of 10/10". Yeah, that is, objects, as well as the people around have a certain level, and even strength.

  Creaking door distracted me from my experiences. The room rolled into a small platform on wheels, which pushed back two guys who looked much older than all the other years, about fifteen or sixteen. O
n the platform stood a large metal tanks. Immediately behind them came into the room of Miss Emily:

  - Good morning, children.

  - Good morning! - I came back a discordant chorus.

  - I want to introduce you to a brand new, - continued the woman - Sherlock, come.

  I got up from the table, on the road accidentally caught sight of Donny. He was sitting with red cheeks, biting his thumb, and without taking his eyes in love with Miss Emily. Wow! So that's who he was writing poetry! Well, it is quite logical, given that she is a young, pretty, and any other appropriate persons of the female sex in the house, probably not.

  Standing near Miss Emily, I involuntarily shivered under a variety of views. Not all of them were friendly.

  - So, let's get acquainted. This Sherlock Brown, do not know how he is, we delayed. Now my brother is looking for his parents. As soon as he finds them, Sherlock, of course, will come back home. I really hope you make friends.

  - Sit down, Sherlock.

  I must say, Miss Emily words upset me. And it's not that I'm so much worried about my missing parents. I just got to the shelter in one of the poorest and, judging by the sensation of the city. Then half the parents of children not at all, someone planted in infancy, someone just kicked out of the house. And the fact that I have a mom and dad, what's more, they also are looking for, certainly not increased my popularity.

  Meanwhile, the older guys rolled a cart to the center of the room. At a sign from Miss Emily, all the boys, who were sitting at our table, quickly lined up in a long queue in the same order as the sitting. There was no hustle, no complaints. Each approaching hand to a metal plate in one hand, and the cup - in the other.

  Donnie pulled my sleeve, and I also got into the general queue. Recalling the traditional English breakfast, which offered me the hotel is not on, like yesterday, I nearly choked on saliva. However, the viscous gray mush that I slapped on a plate distributing, enthusiasm did not cause.

  Returning to his place, I did not dare to try the strange brew. I poked it with a spoon. Weight quickly cooled, covered unappetizing, rubber-looking crust.

  Dead silence suddenly reigned at the table, suggested - that something is wrong. Looking up, I realized that I have to eat porridge, and quickly. My disgust, apparently, obviously could read on his face, and drew unnecessary attention. I strained smile, and furiously earned spoon, simulating a mad hunger.

  A few seconds later I was eating with a real appetite, porridge appeared tolerable to the taste, and that was, in principle, sufficient. Already pleased to get me washed down with a thin slice of brown bread liquid, unsweetened tea, I felt that hunger retreated.

  After eating, still together they accounted for empty plates in a stack on the edge of the table and reached for the door. I was also moved following the crowd, but was stopped.

  - Sherlock, come with me, we need to talk.

  - Yes, ma'am - I obediently followed Emily to the second floor, in the office. On the way, trying to cause an information plate, staring at her back. Nothing came of it, apparently Emily level is too high.

  In the study there was a small desk, a couple of chairs, an easy chair, with standing next to a floor lamp, all the remaining space is occupied by tall, the ceiling, cabinets with books.

  Miss Emily sat down on one of the chairs, gesturing to me for a second.

  - Come on, tell me, - she said. - I did not torment you yesterday, very much you were miserable and sleepy, but now I want to know everything.

  I sighed. I do not know whether I should tell everything but Emily seemed a good man, and I took a chance.

  Forty minutes it took me to the fact that in detail describe to me all yesterday's adventures. I told her everything, including the sad familiarity with the band Trickster, help Molly, loss of hours and my plans to trace the parents. Hesitated for a moment, he took out and gave the uncle's letter to read.

  The only thing I was silent, so it's about what was going to stick his nose in the murder case, and at least try to find some information about them.

  - Poor kid ... - woman stroked my head - how many had fallen on you. Now to me a lot, it became clear - she continued - and that, I confess, it was a bit strange to read in a note his brother about the young gentleman with fiery hair, and look upon the ragged figure of a typical street Hackney area.

  - It was a disguise - I blushed.

  - I realized. And you're not so stupid, young Sherlock. - Miss Emily sat down and thought about clearly.

  She reread the uncle's letter, then looked up at me.

  - Judging by the letter of your uncle, do you have a property in Grennismit street. This is a rather prestigious area. That is, we can conclude that you have lived a pretty good until he found himself on the street. You really do not remember anything?

  - No, ma'am, nothing.

  The woman stood up and began pacing the room. Giving the impression that it is painfully ponders the decision and struggling with doubts.

  - Okay, here's what we'll do. - Emily sat back down at the table, apparently the decision has already been taken. - Your situation is fundamentally different from the rest. As you know, this orphanage, and parents there is no one else. But you have hope, and I believe it will not have the right to get in your way.

  - In our shelter, there are rules and routines. Violators shall be punished by the most severe. No, corporal punishment, we do not apply, - she smiled, seeing my eyes widened - it's just a corrective labor and deprivation of certain privileges, such as reading.

  - One of our most stringent rules is that students can not go to town without adult supervision. But in your case, I think you can give it up. Do not think that I do not believe in our police forces, but, judging by the letter Uncle, your parents disappeared a few years ago. And it is unlikely to suddenly exist. So, if you do not help himself, I'm afraid that will not make anybody.

  - You can leave the city immediately after lunch - continued Emily, - and stay there until dinner. But on the morning classes your presence necessary, as well as the daily work duties.

  - work duties?

  - Yes, it's not a burden. The fact that our shelter exists mainly on donations, which, as you know, the income is very unstable. So we opened a small shop where they sell everything that can make their own hands. Mrs. Rose still bakes cinnamon rolls.

  - In general, so, to me, to be honest, to do this is now no time, but Donny, I'm sure, be happy to show and tell you everything - a woman stood up and resolutely toward the door. - Let's go to!

  Before I had time to step behind her, before me there was another window with the quest:

  - to offer you the quest: "All the good work!".

  - Usloviya quest - with the help of Donny get acquainted with all the shelter masters "New Beginning".

  Onhail - experience (100), the choice of profession.

  About the penaltyshaft - is absent.

  atnyat quest?

  Wow! I sincerely rejoiced, taking the job. Firstly, as I remembered the words of the other guys, veterans Wirth games, choice of profession was very important for the character, and make informed, often allows not only to diversify the gameplay, but also earn a lot of all sorts of virtual goods.

  And secondly, I just like to learn something new, I was generally a big fan of learning.

  Having a dozen meters down the long corridor, Miss Emily stopped at the one-leaf doors, dark wood, knocked.

  The door opened, and on the threshold appeared a short, elderly man, with something like a small, ruffled bird.

  - Good morning, Mr. Birkin.

  - Good morning, Emily - he broke into a smile - glad to see you. Do you want to sit in on a lesson?

  - I'm afraid it does not today. I have to you a couple of things. The first - that's, meet your new student - Sherlock Brown. Will be attending your lessons tomorrow. Sherlock - Emily has turned to me - this is Mr Birkin, your teacher spelling, literature and history. I hope I will not have to blush for your knowledge and perseverance.


  - Second, - again she said to the older men - I would like to ask you to release today from the lesson of one of the pupils, Donald Watson. I would need his help.

  - Of course - again I smiled man - no problem. Especially since it's my best student. Sometimes I even think - he winked - that his knowledge of literature, much deeper than mine.

  Mr Birkin finally smiled at us, and went back to class. After a few seconds left in the corridor Donnie, it seemed to me, somewhat distressed by the fact that it distracted from their favorite Occupation. However, when he saw Miss Emily, he immediately brightened.

  - Donnie, - appealed to him a woman - can I ask you a favor?

  - K-to-course, what should I do?

  - Show Sherlock our shop, and introduced him to all our masters. I want him to choose something to do on the shoulder.

  - W-well, Miss Emily - Donald eyes shone a puppy love that I even felt uncomfortable to watch.

  - Oh well. Look, I'm counting on you.

  Miss Emily spend glance, Donny turned to me:

  - U-go, we will need to go outside.

  shelter shop was a small kiosk, stuck to the wall of the building. One could call it a shed, but a big sign on which was written in large letters "Best Products" argued that it was a shop.

  We entered. Inside was intoxicating smell of fresh baking. I do not know whether this is correct, but it was sold in the same room. The counter has been divided into two parts, the right side was a tray of pastries left on the table and on the shelves along the walls - a lot of variety of trinkets and handicrafts.

  Behind the counter was a salesman, one of those older guys who brought the morning with breakfast trolley. He had just served two elderly women, picking up from the counter long tongs bread rolls, which they pointed out, and putting them in a paper bag. Therefore we Donnie awarded only one hostile glance in passing.

  While the owner of the counter was busy, I decided to take a closer look, what's so interesting here was sold. As it turned out - a lot of things.