Named Sherlock

by Bagatur Zhamkochyan

  - No, it just can not be! She still went! But maybe it's too late? You need to know how many days have passed since the last murder - I did not notice that I say out loud, and stopped only when he saw Donnie eyes, rounded on the word "murder".

  - Donnie, how many days I've been lying?

  - Third day - one blinked uncomprehendingly.

  The third day! I was late - the murder was going to happen last night. And, most likely, and so it happened. Gift courier who brought - yes it is, almost entirely, the blue crystal!

  - Donald, call Miss Emily, urgently!

  - So what happened?

  - I beg you, do not ask me anything, I'll tell everything. Call, this is very important! Oh yes, I'll go - despite desperately circling my head, I sat up in bed, she threw a blanket and tried to stand.

  Donnie decisively thwarted my attempts:

  - Lie down now bring.

  He hurried out of the room, and I clenched fists and teeth, staring at the ceiling, blinking, driving into angry tears. If Molly something happened, to blame only me and nobody else! We had to go to the police right away, as soon as I began to have access to all the facts. And I, idiot, wanted to remove the cream itself to investigate the murder. Investigator fucking! Yes, let me be better put in prison!

  Suddenly came up with another idea. Newspaper! I must first find out whether the murder night. Yes exactly. The first thing to ask Miss Emily about newspaper. Yes, that really is now lurk, and you can immediately ask about the murder ...

  - Sherlock, what happened ?! - woman burst into the room quickly, a little out of breath, apparently, Donny met her somewhere below.

  - Miss Emily, I have two requests to you - say, if today found a new victim strangler night? And the second - I urgently need to talk to Detective Marchi from the Central Branch of the Eastern Police District. Your brother is because it is there? He will be able to arrange a meeting with him?

  Judging by what surprise was written on the woman's face, it obviously was not ready for such issues. It would not have thought I was delirious again ...

  - I ask you, is very important and urgent. I have information regarding these murders - I tried to tell the most convincing. Without the help I did not handle it, I simply would not have got to the police station.

  - Murder was not any night - these words I felt a little bit easier. - At least the newspapers wrote about it. Lieutenant Marche I'll help you, and without William, I personally know him, - it seemed to me, the woman blushed, though it was now irrelevant. - Get ready, I'm still going to ask Mr. Robinson to catch us a cab.

  - Thank you, Miss Emily!

  - Donnie, help Sherlock to get dressed, and go down.

  Rejecting the help I got dressed on their own. Only a new jacket, which had found in the room, had just thrown over one shoulder - bandaged hand it out of the sleeve. Periodically staggered supported by a friend, I slowly slid down the stairs, accompanied by silent glances students crowd. Apparently, my arrival at the shelter, bloody and bitten, created a furor.

  The cab was standing in front of the porch, Miss Emily waved her hand inside. Groaning, I have overcome the high step and fell with relief on the seat. Saying goodbye to Donnie, I went to a meeting, which may change my fate. But now it did not matter, the main thing - to save Molly, if that's even possible.

  Miss Emily, fortunately, nothing I did not ask, and I was grateful to her for it. Not sure I would like to tell all twice.

  All the way to the police station, I was all twisted and twisted in my head that I know the facts, in the hope that I still made a mistake, and Molly has no to murder in any way. Well, you never know, suddenly it's just one big coincidence? But the more I thought, the more I felt that, most likely, Molly is the latest victim. And even a system involuntarily suggested to me that, by refusing to continue the quest chain.

  The building of the police station was quite ordinary, unremarkable two-storey house of the same yellow brick, just like everyone else. Distinguishes it just a big sign over the front door and barred windows. The front door and then opened, constantly coming and going cops, and the boys in blue uniforms, apparently couriers.

  Once inside, we found ourselves in a small foyer, partitioned high wooden counter, behind which sat and wrote something in a huge log, mustachioed middle-aged man. Behind him was the open door into a large room where there were many tables and could be seen to pace, something to discuss police. Seeing us, the man raised his head:

  - Good afternoon, Miss. How can I help?

  - Good afternoon, Sergeant. Can I speak to Detective Marchi?

  - On what matter, Miss?

  Miss Emily paused for a moment, then, still he continued:

  - On personal. Say that it came to Miss Emily Shaw, on an urgent personal matter.

  - Well, Miss, one minute.

  Hard climbing, the police was somewhere in the back of the room depth. And a minute later, from her in the foyer, he darted out of a young man in a light gray suit. Seeing Miss Emily, he walked with a smile to meet her, but seeing me, frowned and raised his eyebrows.

  - Emily?

  - Hello, Greg. We approach you for business. More precisely, it's this young man, and I simply followed.

  - Well, - the man said quietly, - I might have guessed. But, as usual, I chose to be deceived again. What do you have for information, the young man? - He turned to me.

  - You Detective March? You investigate the case of the Night Strangler?

  - Yes, to both questions. - Detective instantly became very serious. - You know something about this?

  - I'm afraid so, sir. We can sit down somewhere? Talk long and hard for me to stand - to tell the truth, it really was so. I felt like I almost ran out of stamina left after my illness, and at the slightest effort risked simply disgraceful fall into a swoon.

  - Well, come with me.

  We went into a small private room in the back of the room, all the furniture which were a table, three chairs, a desk lamp and a huge filing cabinet along one wall.

  Pointed me to a chair, Detective March prepared to listen. Sighing, I decided to tell everything from the beginning, without hiding anything. Come what may.

  Starting from that moment, I woke up in the park, I spoke in detail about his acquaintance with Constable Joyce and his dog, hunting rats and escape from the guards, how I heard about the murder and how to find the crystal. At this moment the detective March interrupted me and asked to sketch the approximate size and shape of the crystal. Looking at the picture, he chuckled and wrote something down in a notebook lying on the table.

  After detectives received a sign, I continued, starting to talk about my way to the shelter, about how I met Molly and Dora as helped the trickster, and subsequently, he was robbed. When I reached the place where the overheard conversation in "a dead pig," the detective again interrupted me. He suddenly stood up and looked out the door and called out some Reeves.

  The office went quite young Constable. March detective handed him just write a note with the words:

  - Constable Reeves, take Constable Noyce, and go on Maher Street. There will find a pawnshop Norrie, behold, I have everything written down. Bring me here the owner for questioning.

  - Yes, sir!

  That's efficiency. I must admit I did not expect. It seems that my story took seriously. Sending a constable, detective again with the expectation looked at me. For a second, I thought. My story came to the most questionable part of the first vision. How could I expect that someone will believe in what I myself still have doubts?

  - Detective - dare I question - tell me you believe in prophecies in visions in prophetic dreams?

  The man looked me in the eye and silently pointed to a poster hanging on the wall, which I have not been paying attention. The poster, top vaguely indistinct image if the ghosts, or just clubs and curls of smoke, it was coarsely written: "I want to believe!". Apparently, though, the ghosts. Considering this response, I continued.

  I told him about my dream, about how
terrible it was to look at how the girl kill herself, about the fog and the appearance of a tall man in a cloak, which tore off her neck a chain with a crystal. Detective, is not raising his head, quickly wrote something in his notebook.

  I talked and talked, I feel that it's been two hours, I was hoarse and completely exhausted. I told him about everything - about Marissa, our robbery, fleeing from the dungeon and duty Molly. Finally, she puts down her letter and uncle's watch. After finishing his story, I was ready for anything, even to the fact that I have now tied up and thrown into the camera.

  - Emily - turned detective to the woman who for the time of my story, listened in silence and did not utter a sound - go to a shelter. The boy stays here.

  - Greg, he's just a kid. Are you ready to put him?

  - What? What stupidity, Emily - a detective frowned. - No one plant is not my intention. Only now, since he got into it, I have to go to the end, otherwise we will have little chance to reveal it.

  - I'm ready, sir! - Yes, I do anything was ready, just to fix everything that happened was my fault, if it would have the slightest chance.

  - Greg, but the child is sick! - Miss Emily seems to have been willing to stand up for me until the end.

  - Yes, I feel great, though - I blatantly lied and hoped only that fall after she left, not before.

  - Emily, do not worry. We have a room, I'll put it there. In any case, we first need to question several people before you do something. The boy will be able to rest until.

  Shaking his head in annoyance, Miss Emily finally gone, punishing to Detective Marchi necessarily take me to a shelter as soon as I will not need it.

  As soon as the woman left, the detective turned to me. His face had a strange expression of disgust and compassionate at the same time.

  - Tell me, Sherlock, what do you want fame? Recognition? Articles in the newspaper? Little boy wiped his nose Londiniumskoy police! That's it? You understand that it is because of your stupidity and cowardice, I do not know what is there more the girl will die if it is still alive. And the blame for this will be only you!

  Not letting me say a word in his own defense, March detective left the room, slamming the door, leaving me with remorse, shame, and The System window:

  - You gave evidence collected detective March, but did it too late.

  - Reputation with city police Londinium reduced (dislike)!

  Chapter 14.

  There was no point making excuses, the detective was absolutely right. I began to play. You can certainly try to write off all of the circumstances, my illness and in general, I sincerely want to solve this case and not for the glory. That's just between "like" and "do" - a huge gap.

  That I should not lead to the extreme and immediately go to the police out of the library? You look, and Norrie in the interior did not have to climb. Norrie, salon ... Marissa! Damn, I'm still a thief and was awarded an excellent tool. It's me, probably also will be counted.

  While I sprinkled ashes on his head in the detective's office, in the family room with the door closed, obviously something happened. First vague, but the closer, more and more clear cries dispelled carotid silence portion.

  - Yes, what you are entitled to? I do not understand what it was about! I will complain!

  The door opened, and in the office, angrily puffing, Mr. Norrie came in, immediately filling the almost all of the small space.

  - This is what a puppy? - man casually pointed at me, casting a frown. Did not recognize.

  - This is a valuable witness - Detective March was very polite. He smiled sweetly, and nothing reminded about his recent outbreak. - Please, Mr. Norrie, have a seat.

  The fat man slumped on a rickety chair. I, just in case, moved away.

  - Do you recognize? - Detective raised to watch the table.

  - Of course, the know! It's my watch that was stolen three days ago from our salon in the city! You have already found the robbers?

  - What are your hours?

  - Of course, and whose else! - Mr Norrie angrily leaned back in his chair, he squeaked in protest. - From his father he inherited.

  - Very interesting ... - Detective March thoughtfully tapped the table with a pencil. - Do you have proof of this?

  - What? And why should I have something to confirm? I was robbed, carried away a bunch of valuable property, safe gutted, and I'll still something must confirm? Yes, I'll go to the Central police station and complain about your outrage! And that ish, udumali, honest citizens in the Department of drag as bandits public, and even confirm something required! - thick neck and cheeks shaking Mr. Norrie filled with red.

  March did not lead detective and eye. Still smiling politely, continuing to twist in the hands of a pencil, he began to speak:

  - Dear Mr. Norrie! You are absolutely right, to confirm you really do not need anything, because everyone knows you as absolutely, downright crystal honest man. But let me, I'll tell you one interesting story. I, personally, it was prelyubopytny, sure, and you will like.

  - So. No further as eight days ago, on Maher Street was robbed passers-by. Business as usual, is not it? And on the same day, you come 2 people, who brought a gold watch and a blue crystal - hexagon, the size of a finger, - Mr Norrie was too began indignantly lifted from his chair, but was stopped by resolute gesture detective. - to listen, Mr. Norrie, I'm sure you'll love the sequel!

  - Watch you have taken at once, but did not want to communicate with the chip, sending his friends in the city, to his wife, which could bring them to the buyer. That's only in the early morning of the next day, their bodies found near the Strand. Interesting story, is not it, Mr. Norrie?

  - Listen, Detective. All that you say - outright nonsense. Even if it is assumed that the clock is not mine and I did bring them, it is still necessary to prove that they have stolen. And then, I could just about do not know. And as for the people out there killed - I do it the first time I hear it!

  - Of course, I was confident that you will respond that way. Nice to know that it is not wrong in others. Please look at this boy, - to admit, I was very unpleasant to feel the gaze of Mr Norrie - a hard, appraising and storage. - So, - he continued the detective - that he was robbed on the day known to you gentlemen Trickster Osh and Ray Stavinskaya. And the boy has a document confirming affiliation him a gold watch, currently lying on my desk.

  I needed to make quite a lot of effort not to betray his surprise facial expression, as the words of a detective with me, as they say, just climbed eye on his forehead. Which document? What is he talking about? Is that uncle's letter he is referring to? Yes, it can be generally any make watches, there is no description ...

  Detective March, meanwhile, without batting an eye, he continued:

  - With regard to the fact that you might not know about the origin of these hours, so we have witnesses who claim that the trickster Osh, referring you to watch, knew that you was buying stolen goods. And I am sure that these wonderful people are happy to remember a few stories to support your involvement.

  - Next, we have a witness who has heard your wife talking with a friend, in which she admitted that she had seen the crystal and really sent the people who brought it to Mr. Appleton. I am sure that a friend of your wife, if necessary, it will confirm. Finally, Marissa Warren, who also knew about watches, crystal and the strange death of his friends. She had come to raid your store is not someone else's! And happy to be a witness against you, do not hesitate!

  Mr Norrie sat silently in his chair. As soon as a detective Murch said, he gradually turned pale and seemed blurred, more and more resembling a sick old toad.

  - I agree, if we consider all of these cases separately, then charge you, by and large, there is nothing. But if you look at the whole picture, believe me, it looks very unsightly. I'm not sure I can put you a long time, but a scandal and clamor in the newspapers completely destroy your business. But we can find a compromise - a detective, still smiling serenely, in response to the Norrie look of hatred.

  - What do y
ou need? - finally I asked.

  - So, you acknowledge that all I said before - the truth?

  - Yes.

  - Well, more from you almost do not need anything. Just one little. You forget that you have been robbed, we, in turn, forget that you are trading in stolen goods.

  - What? Yes, I lost a lot of money! - Mr Norrie still tried to resist, even raised his voice, but it was evident that he surrendered. Detective March played his game, like clockwork. Without any evidence, he bluffed magnificently, with the agility of a magician juggling rumors, speculations and fantasies, so much so that they are in flight almost turned into hard facts.

  If Mr. Norrie demanded real evidence, then the entire pyramid of the alleged "facts" would immediately crumbled like a house of cards, because only seemed convincing. But fortunately, whether acting skills were really good detective, or not so great was the loss of fat, but still wrangling over a couple of minutes, Mr. Norrie gave up and completely abandoned the claim about the hacking of his shop.

  Leaving the office, he did not hide his displeasure quietly tambourine under his breath something unintelligible-threatening.

  - Why did you do it? - I do not think that the detective just feel sorry for me, given his dislike.

  - Then I need you as a witness, not a defendant. Your hacking interior is not what is now the first to open, and do not hush up the case now, to me, in the end, would have to indict you, and your testimony as a witness in a murder case, would lose all its value. It is now clear?

  - Yes, sir.

  - I am glad. Sit down here, do not go anywhere. - The detective turned and walked out, slamming the door again. Apparently, so he wants to show that I do not like him. I could not try, I do not like yourself now.

  For half an hour, perhaps, nothing happened, I'm tired to speculate and now quietly dozing in a chair, leaning to one side and continually risking falling on the dirty floor. It woke me fuss, loud voices and raucous laughter of women in the next room. The door opened, and appeared in the doorway, Dora did not surprise me. I was sure that the detective will want to question her. I myself happy to talk to her, that's just, I'm afraid, will not be allowed. Although looking like a detective March cleverly figured out Norrie, I am confident that he now will make everything right. It seems that he is a true professional in the business.