Personality V: I will save everything

Although the story Andrew told was extremely absurd and bizarre, this was not the crux of the matter. What was really important was what he said next.

"Not only that, I've been suspicious of this place since the beginning. I always feel like something is wrong. Didn't you notice that there's something unusual about the smell here?"

When Holmes heard this, he initially thought that Andrew was referring to the smell of disinfectant commonly found in hospitals, which might be a little stronger.

So he sniffed the air around him carefully, but didn't notice anything special. The smell didn't seem to be unbearable.

Perhaps it is because Andrew is an elf and his sense of smell is more acute than that of ordinary people, Holmes thought to himself.

"I think the disinfectant here smells normal," Holmes responded.

"No, I'm not talking about the smell of disinfectant, but the smell of blood." Andrew corrected seriously.

Before he finished speaking, he suddenly stomped hard on the floor on the first floor, as if to emphasize his point in this way.

"And, this bloody smell comes from underground." Andrew added, his eyes fixed on the ground beneath his feet, as if he could see the secrets hidden underneath through the thick floor.

This quickly reminded Holmes of the missing Viscount of the Abbey. Could it be that...

"You mean there's a basement down here?"

"About that."

Hearing this, Dr. Percy Trevelyan was almost furious. No matter whether the other party was a fantasy creature or not, he just wanted to prove that there was nothing wrong with this hospital, so he took everyone to the second floor. Anyway, at this time every day, Blessington always had to drink hot cocoa.

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Dr. Trevelyan carefully carried the silver tray and slowly opened the door of the ward.

The early morning mist seeped in through the gaps in the curtains like a ghost, as if covering the entire room with a veil.

The mist cast spiderweb-like spots of light on the walnut floor, like a mysterious pattern.

Normally at this time, 7:15 in the morning, Blessington would cough softly through the curtains of his bed, his cue to ask the doctor for more cocoa.

However, today it was unusually quiet, without any sound at all.

The cocoa on the silver tray was still steaming, and the rising steam filled the air, interweaving with the smell of laudanum in the room, forming a strange fragrance. The bitter almond-flavored digitalis smell was particularly abrupt in this quiet atmosphere.

Dr. Trevelyan hesitated, as if he sensed something strange. Just as he was about to put down the silver tray, he suddenly kicked something hard.

Looking down, I found that there were gold coins scattered on the ground. One of them had mischievously rolled into the tassels of the Persian carpet. The queen's head portrait had a tiny crack under the pressure of the heel.

This strange silence gave Dr. Trevelyan a sense of foreboding. He could not help but frown and stare at the tightly closed bed curtain. An inexplicable fear gradually enveloped him.

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When Dr. Trevelyan gently drew aside the gorgeous damask curtains of the four-poster bed, the morning mist slowly drifted over the body's bent knees like a veil.

Blessington's face was buried deep in the exquisite carvings at the foot of the bed, as if he was trying to hide himself in the last moments of his life. However, the bruise on his third rib glowed a frightening purple in the dim light, just like the dent he accidentally made with a paperweight when he was checking the accounts yesterday.

The doctor's hand involuntarily reached out to Blessington's wrist, wanting to feel his pulse. However, when his fingertips touched the side of the dead man's neck, he felt three parallel bloodstains. The bloodstains were deep enough to show the throbbing carotid artery under the skin, and the obvious burn marks on the edge of the wound showed that the murder weapon had been disinfected by an alcohol lamp.

The most horrifying thing was the dead man's clenched right hand. The fingers were tightly clenched, as if he was desperately trying to grab something before he died.

When the doctor carefully pried open the clenched fingers, he was surprised to find a strand of golden hair entangled between the fingers.

The ends of the hair were stained with silver nitrate crystals unique to the laboratory, which flashed a strange light under the dim light.

"Someone's dead!!!!" A sense of fear surged in Dr. Trevelyan's heart and his voice echoed in the silent room, as if the whole world had frozen at this moment.

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Even with the lightning-fast reflexes of Holmes and Mycroft, they could not prevent the frightened doctor from suddenly letting go.

The cup of hot cocoa seemed to be cast by magic. It drew an arc in the air and then splashed right onto the entire corpse.

"Ah!" Dr. Trevelyan screamed and looked at his masterpiece in horror, "I'm sorry, I... I didn't mean it..." His voice trembled, as if even speaking had become difficult.

The panicked doctor tried to wipe the hot cocoa off the corpse with his sleeve, but it was obviously futile.

The hot cocoa had quickly seeped into the corpse's clothing and skin, leaving a brown stain.

“Don’t touch it!” Holmes shouted, pushing Dr. Trevelyan away. “Anything you do now will only make it worse!”

Although Holmes did not use much strength in pushing, it was like a mountain crushing an egg for Dr. Trevelyan, who had already been frightened out of his wits and had weak legs. He fell backwards without any resistance and fell heavily to the ground with a "bang".

However, Holmes had no time to pay attention to Dr. Trevelyan's condition. His entire attention was focused on the corpse contaminated by hot cocoa.

Time is running out and he must examine the body as soon as possible to obtain more clues and evidence.

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Dr. Trevelyan, who was sitting on the ground, took a few deep breaths and finally calmed down a little.

In fact, in the Victorian era of that era, it was not uncommon to use cadavers as teaching tools for medical students.

However, for Dr. Trevelyan, the situation was different.

Although he was not afraid of the corpse itself, he was frightened this time because the person who was healthy yesterday suddenly lost his life.

After confirming that Dr. Trevelyan had regained his composure, Holmes decided to have him join the team searching for possible clues on the body.

After all, Dr. Trevelyan is more familiar with the deceased and may be able to discover some important information or details that others would not expect.

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Holmes pushed open the door. The morning mist filled the room like a veil, cutting it into anatomical slices of light and dark. His moccasins carefully avoided the piles of gold coins scattered on the ground, as if such wealth had no attraction to him.

The tip of the boot stopped at the place where the bloodstain stopped, where half a cigarette butt was embedded in the carpet fibers. The tobacco exuded the unique chamomile scent of Russian tobacco. This unique smell permeated the air, reminding people of the distant northern land.

Holmes bent down and carefully observed the cross-shaped cut on the tip of the dead man's tongue with a magnifying glass.

The cut was neat and clean, obviously made by a professional knife. His eyes were as sharp as an eagle, not missing any details.

Meanwhile, Mycroft, standing by, noticed a stain of silver nitrate on the doctor's cuff.

Silver nitrate is a chemical reagent commonly used in laboratories, and its presence seems to suggest that the doctor has some connection with the case.

Trevelyan was concentrating on using silver tweezers to pick a piece of marzipan residue from between the dead man's teeth.

In the morning light, the tip of the tweezers flashed a cold glow, the unique cold light of a laboratory platinum scalpel. This cold light instantly illuminated the entire room, making people shudder.

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In short, after the three of them had a tinkering, Holmes came up with the following paradoxes:

1. The deceased had dilated pupils (a characteristic of scopolamine), but there was light pink foam at the corners of his mouth (a typical symptom of respiratory depression caused by morphine).

In a routine acute illness, these two signs do not occur together - scopolamine-induced pupil dilation is usually accompanied by an increased heart rate, while morphine causes pupil constriction. This discrepancy points to an "artificial drug combination" rather than a natural disease.

2. The cross incision was deep into the mucosal layer (0.3 cm), but only left 2 ml of blood on the pillowcase.

Holmes used a magnifying glass to find that there was a coagulated protein film on the edge of the incision, which was a characteristic of instant protein denaturation when cutting with high-temperature instruments (such as platinum scalpels), rather than a natural bite. More importantly, the lingual artery was not damaged - this kind of precision can only be achieved by doctors familiar with oral anatomy.

3. There is a light brown burn mark (12cm in diameter) on the 0.5th thoracic vertebra and a collision mark on the outside of the third rib.

The forensic doctor believed that it was a "bump during the death struggle", but Holmes pressed the intercostal muscles of the deceased: "Tonal contraction will cause the ribs to cave inward instead of hitting the bedpost outward. This is more like a 'passive impact' caused by the sudden stiffness of the muscles when electric current passes through the spinal cord." He then found trace amounts of platinum powder in the gaps in the carvings on the bedposts.

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"I think you three should have finished the inspection, so who can explain to me what kind of organization Freemasonry is?" Andrew stood at the door with a look of dissatisfaction on his face. His voice revealed his dissatisfaction with being ignored and his curiosity about Freemasonry.

Andrew, who had been left out, finally got a chance to speak. He couldn't wait to know more about Freemasonry.

Holmes looked at Andrew, his mouth corners slightly raised, revealing a faint smile. He seemed to have anticipated Andrew's question, and answered slowly: "You can understand them as a group of lunatics who want to discuss politics, economics and science."

Andrew frowned slightly after hearing what Holmes said, and was obviously not satisfied with the answer. He asked, "Is it that simple?"

Holmes shrugged and continued, "Of course there is more to it than that. Freemasonry is an ancient organization with members all over the world who share common beliefs and goals."

At this point, Holmes paused, his eyes falling on Andrew's pointed ears. He said thoughtfully, "By the way, Andrew, if you see a Freemason, it's best to run as far away as possible."

Andrew's face became a little serious. He didn't understand why Holmes said that. He asked, "Why? Are they dangerous?"

Holmes nodded and said in a serious tone: "Members of the Freemasons often have powerful backgrounds and resources, and their actions and purposes are often unknown. Contact with them may bring you unexpected troubles."

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In fact, the most crucial factor is that if you want to join Freemasonry, you must have some kind of belief, and any form of belief is acceptable.

Holmes wondered to himself, among the many diverse beliefs, are there some that are related to elves?

After all, no one knows how that reverence came about, where it came from, and how it evolved.

It was difficult for Holmes to guarantee that there was absolutely no part related to elves, so it was absolutely right to keep Andrew away from them.