[Zhongyingmei] Devouring the sky

"Have you found the identity of the deceased?" Sherlock asked without raising his eyes.

The deceased had nothing on him except a pair of underwear. It should be difficult to find the identity, but Sherlock told Leicester that the deceased should be the one who brought the Ice Killer to London, and asked Leicester to go directly to the previous town. Find people who have been out of touch for more than 24 hours, and Leicester has found a missing policeman.

"The name of the deceased was Billy White. He disappeared after eight o'clock yesterday morning. According to the clues provided by the town police department, he was in charge of patrolling around the town yesterday. He was supposed to go back at noon, but there was no news until this morning. They searched around town and only found one of his sidearms, and the police car he was driving disappeared along with a gun that his colleague had in the car," Leicester said.

After hearing this, Sherlock suddenly asked, "Is the license plate of the police car that disappeared BXI4DOE?"

"Yes, how do you know?" Lester asked strangely.

Sherlock didn't answer the question from Leicester, he patted his forehead and said excitedly: "I knew something was wrong with that police car. Yes, yes, it was Billy White who was driving at that time, he must have thought It got out of me, so I deliberately drove alongside us, trying to get my attention. Oh, so the person sitting in the back seat of the police car was the ice killer, oh, I really underestimated his guts, I didn’t expect him How dare you come to London in a police car!"

Letrice pulled the annoyed Sherlock, and said, "Wait, Sherlock, explain to me, you mean you saw the Ice Killer?"

"No, he was huddled in the car with his hat on, I couldn't see his face clearly. Grenier, go find that police car, it's in London now, the car after Billy White's death is Han The ice killer is driving, maybe we can see his face on the electronic probe or roadside surveillance." Sherlock said quickly, the fact that the ice killer escaped under his nose obviously made him very angry , he can't wait to catch this criminal now.

"Don't worry, I've asked Donovan to look for that car, and there should be news soon." Leicester said.

"I've already found out." As soon as Leicester's words fell, Donovan pushed the door and walked into the laboratory. Although she and Sherlock had various discrepancies, I have to say that this black policewoman is still very capable. Yes, it didn't take long for Leicester to go on, and she had already found Billy White's police car.

"The car is in the woods on the outskirts, the gun is there, and there is not even a single bullet missing. I checked the surveillance and found that the ice killer once drove the car to the wealthy area of ​​Hampstead and stayed in it It’s been a while, and I’ve sent people there to investigate.”

Donovan left quickly after finishing his report, and Lester rubbed his temples with a headache and said, "I hope he didn't kill people there in the rich area, otherwise we will be the unlucky ones again."

Rich people all over the world have privileges. Ordinary people have murders in their homes, and they will only beg the police to find the murderer quickly, but the rich will put pressure on the police and keep saying that we paid so much money. Tax, let you find a murderer. Excuseme?Could it be that if you pay more taxes, the police will grow a smart head, or the murderer will take the initiative to leave an extra piece of evidence?You didn't give the tax to the police and the murderer, what a joke!

Of course, these can only be complained in his heart, no matter how dissatisfied he is, he still has to suffer from the idleness of these rich people.Thinking about it, his head hurt more and more. He immediately took out a bottle of painkillers from his pocket, poured one and stuffed it into his mouth.

Watson looked at it and frowned, walked over to help Leicester sit on the stool, and asked with concern: "Inspector, are you all right, your complexion looks very bad."

"It's okay. I have a cold recently and lack of sleep, which caused me some headaches. When the case is over, I'll be fine if I take a leave of absence and have a good rest." Lester said with a wave of his hand.

"Are you tired lately?" Sherlock asked.

"It's not the child abduction case. When we found the murderer, he happened to kill another child. The child's parents are rich and powerful. They blamed us for going too late, and now they are going to report me for negligence of duty." He said sullenly, emotionally he could understand the parents' loss of their beloved son, but he just felt aggrieved in his heart, especially aggrieved.The child disappeared because the parents didn't care about it, and the child died because of the murderer. What does this have to do with him as the sheriff?He was also very angry why they didn't arrive sooner, but he could swear to God that he had tried his best, so why should he blame him.

"Tsk." Seeing the angry look on Letrastead's face, Sherlock smacked his lips and said, "I thought you were used to being a policeman for so many years. Goldfish don't look for problems on themselves. Looks like someone else is always the one who's wrong, and the police are the best blamers. Gray, promise me, be strong."

"Are you comforting me, Sherlock?" Lester was a little surprised, although Sherlock's words always sounded strange, but this should indeed be comforting.It was a great honor to be able to comfort Sherlock. It seemed that the whole person was in good spirits. He had no headache, no soreness in the waist, and strong legs and feet. He could run ten cases without any problem.

"Yes." Sherlock nodded without hesitation, and then said: "Although you are also a goldfish, you are definitely the one with the highest IQ among the goldfish. What kind of goldfish will the boss send over, it will definitely be very troublesome."

"Hehe, thank you so much for your compliment." Lestrade felt that he really had an illusion just now, how could a brat like Sherlock really comfort others.

Goldfish, hehe, goddamn goldfish.

Sherlock didn't care about Leicester's tone at all, and said cheekily: "I've praised you so much, so can you share the corpses of Walter Sanchez and Billy White with me?"

"No, Charlotte! How dare you want a policeman's body? Do you want to go to jail?" Lester was so angry that his forehead twitched. Why did he feel that his headache was better just now? Sherlock was there How could he be fine!Why on earth did God create such a brat, why!

"Okay, okay, if you don't take Billy White's body, at least give me some of Sanchez's. Anyway, he has no one to collect the body, and he is broken into so many pieces. It shouldn't matter if I take two or three pieces." Question?" Sherlock said.

He completely ignored Leicester's anger, and his tone was very normal, as if he was discussing with Leicester if he could take a sugar cube from his sugar dish, but Leicester was going to be punished by the brat. He was so pissed off, he said loudly: "What do you want those corpses for, do you fry them at home?"

This is obviously ironic, but Sherlock's eyes lit up when he heard it, and said: "This is really a good idea, Grace, fresh human flesh is rapidly frozen and then rapidly heated. I don't know what will happen. It won't be like frying a steak, looks like I'll have to find something fat and lean."

"Sherlock!!!"

Lettrister, John, and Jasmine yelled unbearably at the same time, and after hearing Sherlock's words, the steak would disappear from their recipes.Especially John, he just bought steaks in the morning, which happened to be fat and thin, and he marinated them in a bowl. Originally, he was looking forward to this delicacy, but now that Sherlock said it, he thought of those steaks I feel a little nauseous.

Donovan came back not long after leaving, as Leicester reported that the Ice Killer had parked his car in front of a house in Hampstead, and asked a resident there about the owner. It seems that they want to find the owner of the house.

"Do you know who the owner of that house is?" asked Leicester.

"It's Tom Hiddleston." Sherlock said ahead of Donovan. He squinted his eyes and quickly sorted out all the information he had so far in the memory palace, then looked at Donovan and said, " Ice Killer is actually looking for Tom's son, right?"

"Look for Fenrir!" John, who was listening quietly at first, yelled in disbelief: "This is totally out of reach. How could this murderer find Fenrir!"

Sherlock opened his eyes, and was about to explain, but was stopped by Lester raised his hand, and he said angrily: "What are you two talking about again, why I can't understand your words. Sherlock, this Tom What does Hiddleston have to do with you, and why does this matter involve a child. Wait, don't talk about it, Donovan, come and answer Sherlock's question first."

Donovan looked puzzled, and said: "According to the content of the conversation provided by Miss Taylor, the Ice Killer came to discuss the custody of Mr. Hiddleston with Mr. Hiddleston. Ice Killer told Miss Taylor that relatives on the mother's side of Mr Hiddleston Jr wanted custody of him and he was sent to talk."

After hearing this, Leicester looked at John again, and said, "Very well, now John, tell me what the relationship between that Mr. Hiddleston and Sherlock is, and that little Hiddleston What's going on?"

"Mr. Hiddleston is Sherlock's friend. As for little Hiddleston, I don't know much about it," John said.

Not getting anything useful from John, Lestrade turned his attention to Sherlock and said, "Then, Sherlock, tell me about that little Mr. Hiddleston."

Sherlock was very dissatisfied with Leicester's attitude. He lowered his eyes and glanced at Leicester, and said expressionlessly: "Why did you find John first, obviously I am the real insider."

Lester's expression didn't change, and he said with a straight face: "Because I'm tired of talking to you, Sherlock, just like now."

Sherlock pulled a long face and said, "Since you said that talking to a Sherlock Holmes is tiring, why do you still want to fall in love with a fat man?"

As soon as he talked about Mycroft, Lester knew that the brat was going to start talking nonsense again, so he shouted angrily, "I'm not in love with Mycroft!"

Sherlock didn't care about this, he continued on his own: "Don't you guys just talk when you're together? Come on, what are you doing with your mouths? Kissing? Holding that fat man's fat, round face, what are you? How did you get it? Could it be that the fat man’s saliva tastes better? Is it sweet? Strawberry or chocolate? Have you ever licked the cavities in his mouth? How many times have you licked—ah!”

A petri dish was slammed straight on Sherlock's upturned nose, and two tubes of bright red nosebleed spurted out of his nose, splashing on his little gay purple shirt.

Lester, who was furious and threw the murder weapon, didn't expect that he would really throw it in Sherlock's face, but he swore to God that he didn't regret it at all, and Sherlock deserved to learn a lesson, so that he can be meaner again!