The Complete Works of Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 2 Research on Scarlet Characters (1)
From the Memoirs of John H. Watson, MD, Former Army Surgeon General

Mr Sherlock Holmes

In the year [-] I took my degree of Doctor of Medicine of theUniversity of London, and proceeded to Netley to go through thecourse prescribed for surgeons in the army.Immediately after I completed my courses there, I was duly attached to the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers as Assistant Surgeon.The regiment was stationed in India at the time.Before I could get to the troops, the second Afghan campaign broke out.When I went ashore at Bombay, I heard that the corps to which I belonged was already advancing through the passes and into enemy territory.Nevertheless, I followed a party of officers who had fallen behind like myself, and reached Kandahar in safety.There I found my unit and immediately took up my new duties.

This battle brought many promotions and honors, but it brought me only misfortune and disaster.After I was transferred to the Buck State Brigade, I participated in the fierce battle of Maiwande with this brigade.During this battle, I was hit by a Jezer bullet in the shoulder, which shattered my shoulder bone and grazed the artery just below the collarbone.I would have fallen into the hands of those cruel Gajgis, had not my valiant orderly, Murray, thrown me on the back of a pack horse, and brought me safely back to the English lines.

This trauma left me crippled, and the long-term tossing and tossing made me weaker and weaker.So I was sent to the rear hospital in Boshul together with a large number of wounded.While there, my health improved rapidly.But when I was finally able to walk a little in the ward and even bask in the sun in the corridor for a while, I fell ill again.I was stricken with typhoid, that unfortunate plague of the Indian possessions.For several months, I was unconscious and dying.Finally, I regained my sanity and gradually got better.But at this time I was so weak and emaciated that, after a consultation with the doctors, it was determined that I should be sent back to England at once, without a day's delay.So I was sent home on the troop carrier Orentez.A month later I landed at Portsmouth Docks.At that time, my health was so bad that it was almost beyond recovery.However, the kind government gave me a nine-month holiday so that I could rest and recuperate.

I had no relatives in England, but I was as free as air, or at that time I was as free as a man whose income was eleven shillings and sixpence a day.Under the circumstances, I was naturally drawn into the great cesspool of London.All the bums and slobs of the British Empire flock here, too.I lived for some time in a flat in London's Esplanade, and lived an uncomfortable and very boring life, spending money as soon as I got it, living expenses far beyond what I could afford, so my financial Things got very tight.Soon it became clear to me: I must leave the metropolis and emigrate to the country.Otherwise, I would have to completely change my lifestyle.In the end I chose the latter, determined to leave the apartment and find something less extravagant and less expensive.

On the day I decided to do this, I was standing in front of the Clertilian Bar when someone tapped me on the shoulder and I looked back and it was Stanford, one of my assistants in Butts .It is a very pleasant thing to a lonely man to meet an acquaintance in the midst of the crowds of the City of London.Stanford was not my best friend back then, but now I greet him warmly.He also seemed happy to see me.In my ecstasy, I immediately invited him to lunch at Houben's, and we drove there together.

When we were driving slowly through the bustling streets of London, he asked me in amazement: "Watson, what have you been doing recently? You look sallow and emaciated, and you seem to have only a handful of bones left."

I briefly related to him my dangerous experience, and before I finished my account, we reached our destination.

After hearing my misadventures, he said pityingly: "Poor fellow! What are you going to do now?" I replied: "I want to find a place to live, and I intend to rent some cheap and comfortable houses. I don’t know if this problem can be solved.”

My partner said, "This is really weird, today you are the second person to say the same thing to me."

I asked, "Who was the last one?"

"A guy who works in a hospital laboratory. He's still moaning this morning, saying he's found some nice houses, but the rent is too high for him to afford alone, and he can't find anyone to share with him. "

I said, "Okay, if he really wants a roommate, I'd love to. I think it's better to have a companion than to live alone."

Stanford raised his head from his glass and looked at me in amazement, and said, "You don't know Sherlock Holmes yet, do you? Otherwise, you might not want to be his long-term companion."

"Why? Is there anything wrong with him?" I asked.

"Oh, I don't mean there's anything wrong with him. He's just a little queer in his mind--he's always working on some science. He's a decent guy, as far as I know," Stanford replied.

I said, "Maybe he's a medical student?"

"No, I have no idea what he's studying. I think he's good at anatomy, and a first-class pharmacist. But, as far as I know, he never studied medicine systematically. His studies are very messy, Fragmentary and eccentric, yet he has amassed a wealth of outlandish knowledge that would amaze his professors."

I asked, "Did you never ask him what he was working on?"

"No, he doesn't speak out easily. Although he always talks when he is happy."

I said, "I'd like to see him. If I'm going to live with someone else, I'd rather live with someone who is studious and silent. I'm not in good health yet, and I can't stand noise and excitement. I'm in Afghanistan I've had enough of that pain, and I don't want it any more in my life. How can I meet this friend of yours?"

My companion replied: "He must be in the laboratory now. He will either not be there for a few weeks, or he will be working there from morning to night. If you like, let us drive together after dinner." .”

"Of course!" I said, and we moved on to other topics.

On our way from Houben to the hospital Stanford told me some more about the gentleman.

He said: "If you can't get along with him, don't blame me, because I just met him by chance in the laboratory, and I know a little bit about him. But there is no way to know more about him. Since you If you choose him, then, if there is any unpleasantness, don't blame me."

I replied, "If we don't get along, it's easy to break up." I fixed my eyes on my companion and continued, "Stanford, I think you seem to want to stay out of it, and there must be a reason for it. Is it this person? Is your temper really terrible, or is there another reason? Don't hesitate like this."

He smiled and replied: "It is not easy to put into words the indescribable. I think Holmes is a little too scientific, almost cold-blooded. I remember once, he took a small a pinch of plant alkaloids for his friend. You know, it wasn't out of malice, it was just a research motive, and he wanted to get a proper understanding of the different effects of the drug. In all fairness, I think He would have swallowed it himself. He seems to have a great taste for knowledge."

"This kind of spirit is also right!"

"Yes, but it was too much. He even beat the corpse with a stick in the dissecting room. Isn't that a strange thing?"

"Slapping the corpse?!"

"Yes, he was trying to prove what kind of scars can be left on a dead body after death. I saw him beat the dead body with my own eyes."

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

"Yes! Who knows what he is studying! Well, here we are, you can see for yourself what kind of person he is later." We got out of the car and walked into a narrow alley. Entering through a small side door, you came to the wing of a large hospital.It was a place I knew well, and we walked up the white stone steps and down a long corridor without needing a guide.The walls on both sides of the corridor are painted white, and there are many small dark brown doors on both sides.At the end of the corridor there is a low arched passage leading directly to the laboratory.

The laboratory is a tall room surrounded by countless bottles.Several large and low tables were arranged vertically and horizontally, on which stood many retorts, test tubes, and some small Bunsen burners with flickering blue flames.There was only one person in the room, and he was sitting at a table far away from us, leaning over the table and working intently.He heard our footsteps, looked back, jumped up, and exclaimed happily: "I've found it! I've found it!" He ran towards us with a test tube, "I found a reagent that can only be precipitated with hemochrome protein, nothing else." It seems that even if he found a gold mine, he might not be happier than he is now.

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

"Good day," Holmes greeted me warmly, squeezing my hand vigorously.I couldn't believe how strong he was.

"I can see that you have been in Afghanistan," said Holmes to me.

I was surprised: "How do you know?"

"That's nothing," he chuckled, "and now we're talking about the haemochrome protein. No doubt you see the importance of my discovery?"

I replied, "From a chemical point of view, it is certainly interesting. But from a practical point of view..."

"Sir, this is the most important discovery in practical forensic science in recent years. Can't you see that this reagent allows us to identify bloodstains without fail? Please come here!" He hurriedly pulled He grabbed my cuff and dragged me to the desk where he used to work. "Now let's get some blood," he said, pricking his finger with a long needle and sucking it with a straw. That drop of blood.

"I'm going to put this blood in a liter of water now... You see, this mixture looks like clear water. Blood is less than one part in a million in this solution. Even so , I'm sure we can still get a specific reaction." While speaking, he put a few white crystals into the container, and then added a few drops of transparent liquid.After a while, a dark red color appeared in the mixed solution just now, and some brown particles gradually settled to the bottom of the bottle.

"Haha!" he cried, clapping his hands like a child getting a new toy, "what do you think?"

"It appears to be a very delicate experiment," I said.

"Brilliant! Simply brilliant! The old method of using guaiac wood was difficult and inaccurate. And the method of examining blood cells under a microscope is also not good. If the blood has been dried for several hours, then use Microscopic examination does not work at all. Now, this new reagent seems to work regardless of whether the bloodstain is new or old. If this method had been discovered earlier, perhaps the criminals in the world who are now at large would have been brought to justice .”

I murmured, "That's true!"

"A lot of criminal cases depend on this. It may take months after the crime to find a suspect. After examining the suspect's shirt or other clothing, there are brown spots on it. So, are these spots blood? , or mud? Is it rust? Is it juice? Or something else? This is a question that baffles many experts. Why is there no reliable test? Haha, now we have Sherlock Holmes test, and there will be no difficulty in the future!"

His eyes sparkled when he spoke.Then he pressed one hand to his chest and bowed, as if thanking his imaginary applauding audience.

I was surprised to see how excited he was, and I said, "I congratulate you."

"There was the case of von Bischoff in Frankfurt last year. Had the test been available, the murderer would have been hanged long ago. There was also Mason of Bradford, the notorious Moller , Lofevo of Mompellier, and Symson of New Orleans. I could cite at random more than a dozen cases in which this method was decisive."

Stanford couldn't help laughing. He said: "You seem to be a living dictionary of crime cases. You might as well start a newspaper and call it "Police News Old Record."

"It's quite interesting to read a paper like this," said Holmes, putting a small piece of sticking plaster over the cut finger. "I have to be careful," and turning to me, he smiled. , and then said, "Because I often come into contact with drugs." As he spoke, he stretched out his hand to show me.I saw that his hands were covered with adhesive plaster of the same size, and because of the strong acid erosion, his hands also changed color.

"We came to you to discuss something with you," Stanford said, sitting on a three-legged high stool, and pushed the other stool towards me with his feet, and continued, "My friend is looking for a Residence. Aren’t you complaining that you can’t find someone to share with you? I just want to introduce you two.”

Holmes seemed delighted to hear that I was going to share a flat with him. He said: "I have my eye on a flat in Baker Street, which would be perfectly suitable for the two of us. I hope you will not be annoyed by the strong smell of tobacco."

I replied, "I've always smoked Boat myself."

"That's great. I'll do some chemicals a lot, and occasionally do experiments. Don't you hate it?"

"Never."

"Let me see--what other faults do I have? Sometimes I'm in a bad mood and don't talk to anyone for days on end. In this case, don't think I'm angry, just leave me alone , I will be fine soon. Do you have any shortcomings to talk about? I think it is best for two people to understand each other's biggest shortcomings before living together. "

I couldn't help laughing when I heard him get to the bottom of it.I said, "I have a small bulldog. My nerves have been irritated, so I am most afraid of noise. I get up at irregular times every day, and I am very lazy. When I was healthy, I had other bad habits. But that's the main drawback right now."

He asked eagerly again: "Do you count playing the violin as noisy?"

I replied, "It depends on the player who plays the violin. If you play the violin well, it will really sound like fairy music; if you don't play it well..."

"Oh, that's very good," said Holmes, smiling cheerfully. "If you are satisfied with the house, I should think the matter is settled."

"When are we going to look at the house?"

He replied: "Come and meet me here at noon tomorrow, and we will go together and decide everything."

I shook his hand and said, "Okay, see you at noon tomorrow."

He was still busy with his chemistry experiments when we left.Stanford and I walked to the apartment where I lived.

"By the way," I said, stopping abruptly, and turning to Stanford, "how the hell does he know I'm from Afghanistan?"

My companion smiled meaningfully, and replied, "That's what makes him so special. Many people wonder how on earth he sees the truth."

"Hey, isn't that mysterious?" I said, rubbing my hands together. "It's really interesting. I appreciate you bringing the two of us together. You know, the most appropriate way to study human beings is to start with specific people." Go ahead'."

"Well, you've got to study him," Stanford said as we parted, "but you'll find he's definitely a difficult character to study. I'm sure he knows a lot more about you than you do about him. Goodbye!"

I said "goodbye" and walked slowly to my apartment.I think this new friend of mine is really interesting.

Two Deductive Method

According to the arrangement of Holmes, we met again the next day and went to see the house at No. 221 B Baker Street, which he had agreed upon the previous meeting.The house consists of two comfortable bedrooms and a large and well-ventilated living room, pleasantly furnished.There are two large windows in the house, so the inside of the house is filled with light.No matter from every aspect, this house is very satisfactory.After we rented together, the rent couldn't be more suitable.So we decided on the spot to rent the house immediately.That night, I packed my bags and moved out of the apartment and immediately moved into my new house.Early the next morning, Holmes also brought in several boxes and traveling bags.We unpacked and furnished the room for two days.When the arrangements were made properly, we gradually settled down and became familiar with this new environment.

(End of this chapter)