Sherlock Holmes Complete Works 1

Chapter 1 Research on Scarlet Characters 1
In the year [-] I took my degree of Doctor of Medicine of theUniversity of London, and proceeded to complete the course prescribed for surgeons in the Army at Netley before being posted in India as Assistant Surgeon in the [-]th Soberland Fusiliers.At that time, the second campaign in Afghanistan had already begun.When I landed at Bombay, I was informed that the regiment to which I belonged was on its way to Afghanistan, and had passed through the passes and penetrated deep into the enemy's rear.Nevertheless, I pursued it, with many other officers in my case, and reached Cadajar successfully and safely, where I found my regiment, and immediately began my duties.

I was soon transferred to the Buckshire Brigade, and took part in the Battle of Maiwand.That war brought glory and opportunities for advancement to many.For me, it was a disaster.During the battle I was hit by a bullet that shattered my shoulder blade and injured the artery just below the collarbone.Orderly Morai put me on horseback and led me back to the British position, saving me from falling into the hands of the Gogis.

The pain and the long-term toss and turn made me thinner and weaker day by day, so I had to be sent to a rear hospital—Poshol Hospital, together with other wounded.After a period of recuperation, my body gradually recovered, but an unfortunate incident happened again. I contracted the typhoid fever that is endemic in the local area, and fell into a coma for several months, dying.Finally I came to my senses and gradually recovered.However, due to his frail health, he was sent back to China by the warship "Ellen Tiss".So I arrived in Portsmouth a month later in extremely bad health, and took advantage of the nine months leave given by the government to recuperate.

I don't have any relatives or friends in England, so I'm at ease.I am as happy as a man can be on eleven shillings and sixpence a day.Under such circumstances, I naturally went to London, that great cesspool where all the idlers and idlers of the British Empire gather.I lived for a while in a private hotel on Lakeside Road, leading a life of solace and boredom.I spend as much money as I have, which is completely beyond my actual ability, so I am on the verge of a dilemma.This economic situation alarmed me, and I soon realized that I either had to leave the metropolis and live somewhere in the country, or I had to make a radical change in my way of life.I chose the latter course, and decided to leave the hotel and move to somewhere more modest and less expensive.

On the day I made my decision, someone tapped me on the shoulder as I stood in front of Cretlian's Bar.I looked back and recognized him as little Stanford, who had worked under me as a bandager at St. Bard's Roman Hospital.For a lonely man, it is a joy to meet a friend in the unaccompanied city of London.Although Stanford was not a close friend of mine, I greeted him warmly at this time, and he seemed very happy to see me.Excited, I invited him to dine with me at Holborn's, and we set off in the carriage.

As the wheels rattled through the crowded streets of London, he asked with undisguised surprise: "How did you get your body into such a shape, Watson? You are now skinny and blue."

I briefly described my experience to him, and before we finished speaking, we arrived at the restaurant we were going to.

"Poor fellow!" he said sympathetically, after listening to my account of my misfortune, "then what are you doing now?"

"Look for lodging," I answered, "and see if you can find some comfortable rooms at a reasonable price."

"It's a coincidence that someone said that to me today," Stanford said.

"Who?"

"It's a guy who works in a hospital laboratory. He was still complaining alone this morning, saying that he found a pretty good house, but he couldn't find anyone to share with him, and he couldn't afford such a high rent alone. "

"Excellent!" I exclaimed. "If he really wants someone to share the house with, I'm exactly what he needs. I like company myself."

Little Stanford looked at me strangely while drinking. "You don't know Sherlock Holmes well," said he, "and perhaps you don't like his long company."

"Why? Is there something wrong with him?"

"I'm not saying there's anything wrong with him. He's just a little eccentric—a fascination with certain areas of science. But he's a very decent guy."

"Is he a medical student?" I said.

"No—I can't say at all what he intends to do. I have a feeling he's good at anatomy, and he's a good pharmacist. But as far as I know, he's never had a systematic medical class. His studies are very Messy and eccentric. But he has a lot of weird knowledge that surprises even his professors."

"Did you never ask him what he was going to do?" I asked.

"No. He's not the type to open up easily. But when he's in the mood, he's quite talkative."

"I want to meet him," I said. "If I'm going to share a house with someone, I want someone who loves to read and to be quiet. I'm still weak and can't stand the noise and excitement. Suffering from these two kinds of torture, so I don't want to do it again in this life. How can I find this friend of yours?"

My partner replied, "He must be in the laboratory at the moment. He's either not going there for a few weeks, or he's working there all day. If you like, we'll go together after lunch."

"Great!" I said, and we turned the conversation elsewhere.

On the way to the hospital, Stanford told me some more about the gentleman.

He said: "Don't blame me if you don't get along with him. I just met him in the laboratory and knew a little bit about the situation. If you want to do this, don't blame me in the future."

"It's not good, and we can break up." I stared at Stanford and said, "Stanford, I see, you have worries about this matter, what's going on? Is that person's temper particularly bad, or something else? The reason? You can say it directly without beating around the bush."

He smiled: "I don't think it's easy to describe him. I think Holmes is a bit mechanical, almost cold-blooded. Almost to the point of inhumanity. He even let his friends taste plant alkaloids, although it doesn't matter. What malice, I just want to correctly understand the different effects of this drug, but this is also unreasonable. To be honest, he would swallow that drug himself. It seems that his thirst for knowledge is still very strong."

"This kind of spirit is also very good."

"Yes, but it was too much. Then he beat the corpse with a stick in the dissecting room. Do you think it's strange?"

"Slapping a corpse?"

"Yes, I saw it with my own eyes. He was trying to prove what kind of scars are left after death."

"Didn't you say that he didn't study medicine?"

"That's right. Who knows what he's studying. Well, here we are. You can see for yourself what he is like." With that said, we got out of the car, turned into a narrow alley, and passed a small side door , to the wing of a large hospital.I am familiar with this place. We climbed the white stone steps and walked through the corridor. The walls of the corridor are white, and there are many small brown doors on both sides.At the end of the corridor was a low arched passage leading to the laboratory.

This is a tall room with many bottles in it.Several low, wide tables were scattered about the room, on which were placed retorts, test tubes, and small gas lamps with flickering blue flames.There was only one person in the room, with his head bowed, absorbed in his work at a distant table.Hearing the sound of footsteps, he looked back, jumped up and shouted happily: "I found it! I found it!" He shouted at my companion, and ran towards us with the test tube. "I found a reagent that will only precipitate when it encounters hemoglobin, but not when it encounters others." The ecstatic look was like discovering a gold mine.

Stanford introduced us: "This is Dr. Watson, and this is Mr. Sherlock Holmes."

"Hello." He said warmly, shaking my hand, "I think you've been to Afghanistan." I felt his strength.

"How do you know?" I asked in amazement.

"That's all right," he said with a smile to himself. "The problem now is hemoglobin. You see the importance of my discovery, don't you?"

"Of course, from a chemical point of view, it's really interesting, but practically..."

"Hey, sir, this is the most important discovery in practical forensic science in years. Don't you see it? It gives us a surefire way to test blood. Come here!" At the desk at work. "Let's get some blood," he said, pricking his finger with a long needle and sucking the drop into a straw. "I put this blood in one liter of water now. You see, although this mixture looks like clear water, the proportion of blood in it does not exceed one part in a million. However, I have this confidence that we will You must be able to get that specific reaction." After speaking, he put a few white crystals into the container, and added a few drops of transparent liquid into it.Immediately, the mixture turned dark red, and some brown particles slowly settled to the bottom of the bottle.

"Haha!" he cried, clapping his hands happily like a child playing with a new toy. "What do you think?"

"It's a very delicate experiment," I said.

"Excellent! Excellent! The original guaiac test is difficult and inaccurate; the same problem exists with the microscopic examination of blood cells. Also, if the bloodstains have been dried for several hours, the latter method is difficult and inaccurate. There is nothing that can be done. Now this new method will have the same effect whether the blood is old or new. If this method had been discovered earlier, not so many crimes would have gone unpunished."

"Indeed!" I murmured.

"Criminal cases often depend on this. A perpetrator is often found long after committing a crime. People examine the clothes of murder suspects and find brown spots on them. So whether these spots are blood spots, mud spots, rust spots, Juice marks or something else? This question has caused headaches for many experts. Why? Because there is no reliable test. Now that we have the Sherlock Holmes test, we don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

His eyes sparkled as he spoke, and he put his hand on his breast and bowed as if in greeting to the applauding crowd he imagined.

Surprised at how excited he was, I said, "I congratulate you!"

"There was the von Bischoff case in Frankfurt last year. If there had been such a test, he would have been hanged. There was also the case of Mason of Leyford; the notorious case of Muller; The Liffever case, and the Samson case in New Orleans. I can name twenty cases in which this test has been decisive."

Stanford smiled and said, "You are like a living dictionary of crime cases. It seems that you can start a newspaper. Let's call it "The Old Police News."

"It must be very interesting to read a paper like this," said Holmes, sticking a piece of sticking plaster to the place where his finger had just been pricked. "I must be careful, because I am often in contact with drugs, you see." I read.Before my eyes appeared a pair of hands covered with many pieces of adhesive tape, large and small. Due to the erosion of strong acid, the color of these hands had changed.

"We've come here to discuss something with you," said Stanford, sitting on a three-legged stool and pushing a stool for me with his feet, "my friend is looking for a place to live, listen Said that you are looking for someone to live with you, so I introduced the two of you, I don't know how?"

Holmes was very pleased to hear that I was going to live with him. He said: "I have taken a fancy to an apartment in Baker Street, and I think it will suit us both. But you will bear the smell of tobacco."

"I also often smoke 'Boat'," I said.

"That would be great. I often do chemistry experiments or bring back some chemicals. You don't mind?"

"Will not."

"So what other shortcomings do I have? Sometimes I'm in a bad mood and I don't talk for days, but don't think I'm angry, just leave me alone; slowly, I'll get better by myself. By the way, what do you have Do the shortcomings need to be explained? Before two people live together, it is best to understand each other's shortcomings."

Hearing him say this, I couldn't help feeling amused, and said: "I have a small bull-headed lap dog. My nerves are stimulated, so I'm afraid of noise. I'm too lazy, sleepy, and I don't have a fixed time to get up. I don't know if you can do this. Do you accept it?"

"How about playing the violin?" asked Holmes unhurriedly.

I replied: "That depends on how well the drawing is. If it's good, it doesn't matter; but if it's not good, it will be troublesome... When shall we go to see the house?"

"That's good. Let's stay here at noon tomorrow and go to see the house together and get the formalities done." Holmes said happily.

The appointment was made, he continued to fiddle with his chemicals, and Stanford and I walked to my hotel.

"By the way," I stopped abruptly and turned to Stanford, "how did he know I was back from Afghanistan?"

"That's what sets him apart. Many people wonder how he sees things." My companion smiled enigmatically.

"It's a mystery, then?" I said, rubbing my hands together. "That's interesting. I'm very grateful to you for letting me know him. You know, 'The proper way to study a human being is to study a human being'."

"Then you'll study him," Stanford bid me farewell, "but you'll find him hard to figure out. I'll bet he knows you better than you know him. Goodbye!"

"Goodbye!" I replied, and then walked slowly towards the hotel where I was staying.I became very interested in this new friend.

(End of this chapter)