big devil holmes

Chapter 62 Of course
"It can be seen that you get along very well." Watson smiled, and then followed Sherlock to the corpse naturally.

The staff of the London police station were all on the verge of an enemy, but they couldn't leave the scene of the crime and run away. They could only retreat subconsciously to the two sides in order to keep a distance from the oncoming man.

As for Mark who was still standing next to the cordon, he didn't seem to understand the scene in front of him for a while, but just watched Sherlock walking towards the dazzling light, and all the people moved away to the sides as if worshiping, Against the pale white background, the bright red corpse eerily produced a sense of sacredness, as if it was welcoming something reverently.

And such a scene, in fact, Sherlock has long been used to it.

As long as he was at the scene of the crime, he would naturally exude an aura of controlling everything, even if the Pope or the Emperor stood by, he would not restrain himself at all.

In fact, Sherlock has always hoped that one day, he can stand in front of the corpse of the emperor as a detective and lead to the death of the emperor. Hemp.

A few steps forward, Sherlock walked into the white light from the enhanced gas lamp.

A bloody corpse lay in front of my eyes
All ten fingers were broken, the nails were lifted upwards, leaking the tender flesh inside, the limbs were also twisted at an angle that made people feel hairy, the shirt was completely soaked in blood, the jaw was dislocated, and it looked like it was torn because of screaming The joint fossa was closed, and the two eyes disappeared, turning into two big black holes, and under the light, the traces of dried thick pulp could be clearly seen inside.

"What do you think?" Sherlock asked.

Of course he was asking Watson and he didn't know why Sherlock would ask another person's opinion at the scene of the crime.

This has never happened in the past few decades.

Watson didn't have the slightest sense of being flattered, but he slowly lowered his body, pinched the drooping eyelids on the eye sockets very gently, and glanced into the creepy eye holes.

"It didn't die by the hands of humans." He gave such an answer directly.

"Tell me why."

"The orbicularis oculi muscle is not damaged, and the eye-closing reflex is one of the most instinctive behaviors of human beings. At this stage, there is no medical device that can remove the eyeball without damaging the muscles around the eye. Broken, or taken out whole, no matter the person is awake or under anesthesia.

So it could only be some kind of demon with special abilities, or a contractor.

But I am more inclined to the former, because the contractor who can complete this kind of fine operation must at least reach the second stage. "

As Watson said, he got up and took out a handkerchief from his jacket pocket, and wiped his fingertips carefully.

"No, you heard that, that's what it says in the autopsy report." Sherlock said to the staff around him.

The surrounding police officers were stunned, because they didn't understand much. In this era, anatomy has not yet been popularized, and any police officer can know the level of the word "orbicularis oculi muscle".

As for the coroner, his expression was even more dull.

"Is there a problem?" Sherlock asked softly, looking in the coroner's direction.

This look at each other almost made the brother cry out in fright.

"Mr. Sherlock, from the coroner's point of view, the eye muscles cannot be used as autopsy evidence, because they are too complicated, and you can't just say it casually, so we will."

Just as he was talking, Sherlock had already walked over with empty eyes.

He is obviously a detective, but in these few steps, he walked out of a sense of oppression stronger than that of a murderer.

The coroner who spoke just now was sweating.

Fortunately, Sherlock came to him and just patted him on the shoulder in a friendly way:

"The rigorous work attitude is commendable, but the trust between people is also very important, right, I trust Dr. Watson, and you should trust him too."

The coroner didn't respond, because his brain was buzzing with fear, and he didn't listen to anything at all.

"Haha, don't be so nervous, if you don't understand, then I'll tell you in a more understandable way." Sherlock said lightly: "You can write whatever you want on the autopsy report, you can write lyrics, Then go to Director Lestrade to sign, and tell him that Sherlock Holmes has taken over the case, and that's it, how about it."

The coroner swallowed: "Of course, Mr. Sherlock, I will go now."

After finishing speaking, he directly carried a box of autopsy equipment and left the crime scene at an almost trotting speed.

"Hey, why are you going?"

Mark watched the coroner leave, a little unresponsive.

"It looks like we don't need us here anymore, so don't bother me." The police detective wearing a top hat managed to squeeze out a smile, then waved his hand at the crowd of police officers, signaling 'Get out! '

The group of people in police uniforms ran towards the police carriage not far away, as if the prison door had opened.

During the period, some tools were dropped, rattling, and no one picked them up.

"Wait a minute." Mark stopped the detective: "Is this the end?"

"Yes, our mission has been completed."

"But the autopsy"

"It's over."

"The on-site investigation, deduced from the corpses the demon's habits, body size, whether there is any special attack method, and what common characteristics do the attackers have."

Mark is obviously very professional in fighting demons, and he seems to have worked with the police before, knowing how a detective can help.

However, the other party just smiled politely: "It's over, it's over, from now on, all matters here will be handled by Mr. Sherlock. With him around, our group will only appear to be in the way."

"?????"

Mark blinked his eyes, as if he had heard it wrong. After a long while, he finally turned around and looked at the 'new colleague' who was squatting beside the corpse. He was speechless for a long time.

As for Sherlock and Watson.
These two people are just like the two children who dug ant holes when they were young, squatting next to the bloody corpse, poking and yelling.

A few breaths of work.
"Have you reasoned enough?"

"Of course." Sherlock lit a pipe.

(End of this chapter)