what do you think sherlock

Chapter 79 The Last Greeting

St. Petersburg, Mikhailovsky Garden.

In the snow-covered garden, a slowly moving object appeared.

Smith was holding the suitcase with one hand, and the other hand was against the pipe. His feet were exposed outside the pipe, rubbing against the snow constantly, which made his body move out of the underground water pipe bit by bit.

After his body was completely exposed to the sun, he stood up, patted the ice scum on his body, and took off the waterproof leather on his back to put it away.

After briefly moving his muscles and bones, Smith looked up at the sun hanging in the sky.

It has been three full days since he hid in this underground waterway. Fortunately, the plan to kill people with a knife was perfectly executed, and the Russians focused all their attention on the search for the Narodnaya Volya. Lost his important black hands.

That's a good thing, Smith smiled, but it's not time to relax yet, he still needs to carefully leave St. Petersburg and return to London to take his place.

The position of Assistant Director of the Secret Intelligence Service.
-
Algeria, Algiers.

Lord Lawton was wearing sunglasses, casual tan trousers, a light yellow sweater, a dark brown scarf around his neck, and a glass of Scotch whiskey in his hand. He was walking comfortably and leisurely on the fine white sand grains on the beach.

[Speaking of which, what day is it today? ] Lawton thought casually, his eyes glanced towards the direction of the Mediterranean Sea from time to time.

The days of vacation are really comfortable, and I have to say that he even fell in love with this city a little bit.

However, of course he would not linger here, because London, a city where dreams and hopes are intertwined, where crime and order coexist, is his place.

A few seagulls flew by from a distance, and at the end of the horizon, a steam ship appeared heading here.

"I just said, I feel like I've forgotten something," Lawton said to himself, with the corners of his mouth slightly raised, revealing a striking smile:

"So today is the day to go back to London."

He downed the whiskey in his glass.
-
Berlin, Chancellery of the German Reich.

Bismarck walked slowly in his office, leaning on a cane, while Bazel, the State Secretary of the Foreign Affairs Office, stood obediently by the door and waited.

After walking around the room a few times, Bismarck finally stopped.

"We have no way to confirm the role played by the British in the death of Alexander II, but as far as I know about Disraeli, even if he didn't do it himself, he must have played a role in fueling the flames." Bismarck was quite serious said.

"What do you mean?" Bazel asked cautiously.

"This matter is not a bad thing for us, but we must also note that in the past ten years, we have spent too much energy on the European continent, which has left us with too little understanding of the UK, especially in the United Kingdom. In terms of key information, we seem to be blind, and this situation must not continue." Bismarck turned around and faced Bazel:

"Go and inform the Iron and Blood Guards. I hope that in the next ten years, they will be able to shift the focus of their intelligence activities to London. Within a year, I want to see their results."

"Okay, I will follow your will, Your Excellency the Prime Minister." Bazel nodded quickly: "But who do you want to be in charge of establishing London's intelligence network?"

Bismarck frowned slightly, but he didn't think for too long before blurting out a name:

"Frederick, I want him to take charge of this task."
-
St. Petersburg, Ministry of Internal Affairs.

Osya, the former head of the Tsar's personal guard, lay dying on the floor of the interrogation room.

He was drenched all over, which was deadly enough in the cold St. Petersburg, not to mention that his body was covered with bloodstains at this time, which was the result of various instruments of torture.

But he is worthy of being a third-level "royal knight", even with such a heavy injury, he can still support it.

"I don't want to doubt you, Osya," Sergei, Minister of Internal Affairs of the Empire, said in a gentle tone. He squatted down slowly, and straightened Osya's face on the floor with one hand:
"But after checking everyone, I can only suspect you.

"You know, even I can't be as clear as you about the whereabouts of His Majesty the Tsar."

Osya stared at Sergei indifferently, his eyes were full of contempt and indifference.

Sergey showed a smile, and he patted Osya's fair face with his hands, as if an uncle was kindly talking to his nephew:
"Actually, it doesn't matter whether you confess now or not. I have found enough evidence in your residence."

After Sergey finished speaking, he continued to observe Osya's reaction, but Osia's eyes remained indifferent, without moving a bit.

"It seems that you don't believe that I found the evidence," Sergey chuckled softly, then he lowered his head, slowly approached Osya's ear, and said in a very soft voice next to Osya's ear:

"I have to say, your ability to hide things is pretty good,

"Dear Mr 'Peter'."
-
London, Regent's Park.

McCoff took the budget form handed over by his assistant Jenny, glanced at it briefly, and signed his name.

"You agree now?"

Jenny originally thought that her budget would be called back and revised several times, but she didn't expect that the always picky Mycroft would not propose any amendments, which even made her feel a little uncomfortable.

"Of course, the budget you made is very generous, and this is exactly what I and the new department that will be formed need." Mycroft tapped the wooden table twice with the end of the pen, his tone Put it lightly:

"Speaking of which, the feeling of spending money like this is really good, thank you Mr. Disraeli and Mr. Gladstone for their generosity."

"I understand, sir," Jenny nodded thoughtfully, "However, Alexander II is no longer here, and the Russians must not have much energy to pay attention to London in a short time. Under such circumstances, we still have such a big deal." Is it necessary to invest in a new department?"

"Oh, clever Ms. Jenny," Mycroft raised his eyes and looked at his assistant with a very surprised expression: "You don't really think that this department was formed to deal with Russians and ordinary criminals Bar?"

"Do you have other meanings?"

"Don't you feel it? Ms. Jenny." Mycroft shook his head slightly and said:
"In the center of the empire, there has always been a big secret hand. He manipulates the situation secretly, but his whereabouts are secretive. Even the Bureau of Secrecy can hardly catch their tails.

"However, this is only one of the reasons. Apart from this hidden force, dear Ms. Jenny, the world is not as simple as you imagine. The east wind never stops blowing. This wind is very cold. When it blows When the time comes, many people will wither, but smart people will prepare in advance, and after the cold wind blows, in this changeable era, it will become a constant scale. Ms. Jenny, I hope that after the storm, we We can still stand on this land, but the land under our feet will be more pure, beautiful, and sunny." (Note 1)

Note 1: Adapted from "The Last Greetings" of "The Collection of Sherlock Holmes".

(End of this chapter)