Chapter 42, Episode 29: How to explain
Episode 29 "How to Explain"
A body was found on the Noah.
When the news spread, some passengers remained in good spirits, after all, it was so far removed from their lives. To them, it was just a trivial episode in their journey. For example, I didn't feel there was any major problem at all.
I've probably seen more death than all of you here combined.
The ship has decided to return to London, but it will take at least another 24 hours. Security has cordoned off the area. This is as if reminding everyone that "this ship is no longer just a vacation vehicle."
In fact, while I was still sleeping, Holmes and Watson had already looked at the scene.
When I woke up, the matter had already been filtered through their minds, leaving only the essential parts.
When Watson came to pull back my blanket, Michael II was also asleep.
So I hugged Mi Ershi even tighter, saying, "I'm Mi Ershi's little blanket; I can't get up by myself."
“If you don’t get up, you’ll have to eat other people’s leftovers,” Watson said, patting my shoulder.
As soon as he said that, I opened my eyes.
I'm not usually very good with time, but I remember very clearly that "the breakfast buffet is from 7:00 to 10:00." Besides, even if you miss the buffet, there are paid restaurants on board, so getting breakfast isn't difficult.
What truly brought me to my senses was Watson's tone.
Yesterday I did indeed describe the lunch buffet as "leftovers." And now, in an attempt to wake me up, he's using that exact phrase back.
This fact alone is more effective than any alarm clock.
I couldn't help but laugh, rolled over in bed, and slowly added, "Now, Watson's bed is mine."
This is a fait accompli.
Last night I unceremoniously took Watson's bed.
This naturally led to a chain reaction: Watson had no choice but to sleep in Holmes' bed; while Holmes, with my key, went to my room. However, Holmes didn't stay long before returning and placing my Michelin Man on my head.
"?"
Why is it in my head?
Because of the cat's weight, I subconsciously looked up.
Mi II clearly realized that the height was unstable, and immediately clung tightly to my hair, its tail sweeping from side to side to maintain balance, hitting my face several times.
Mimi II is not afraid of strangers and is very affectionate, but she has one significant drawback: she sheds.
So, before I could completely catch Michael II by the tail, I had already eaten cat hair more than once. By the time I sat up, Watson had already rescued Michael II from my head. And I saw that Holmes's pajamas were covered in cat hair, distributed quite evenly, clearly not the result of a short time.
I couldn't help but feel a little smug and laughed for a while, until Watson also helped brush the cat hair off me, and I realized that I was probably not much better off.
Holmes looked down at himself and calmly commented, "This cat is quite the troublemaker."
Hearing this, I became even more smug: "This is what they call, like father, like son."
...
Now, Watson's bed is covered in cat hair.
Watson had clearly noticed this as well. Looking at the reality before him, he said calmly but with a hint of helplessness, "This has indeed become your bed completely. I can't sleep here."
"Why are you so depressed?" I laughed and gave a brilliant suggestion, "Tonight I'll put Mi Er in Holmes' bed too, and you'll have a bed exactly like the one I have now."
Watson paused for a moment, then chuckled, "You'd better let me go."
Holmes sat silently in the corner armchair, seemingly detached from the situation. But I knew perfectly well that he hadn't truly ignored what was happening. That was his usual demeanor; even when his attention was diverted, he never missed anything.
Every morning, I spend some time combing my hair. My curly hair gets so tangled and annoying; it looks like a mess of straw.
Just as I was about to casually tie my hair up, a hair tie was handed to me.
London: "?"
It was obvious that London was taken aback; it was clear that it hadn't expected Holmes to take such a step.
I wasn't surprised.
I know Sherlock Holmes very well.
Moreover, he was never the type to offer favors without a reason.
"Do you have something to ask me?" I looked up at him.
"That's right."
I then made a direct request: "Then you have to treat me to breakfast."
Upon hearing this, Holmes neither refuted nor hesitated. He stood up from the sofa again, his movements swift and restrained, as if he had long anticipated this outcome.
He was tall and slender, almost taking up the entire vertical space of the doorway when he stood upright, yet he didn't appear cramped. He walked towards the door, his fingers resting on the doorknob, and stopped just before pushing it open.
At that moment, the door frame froze him there, like the edge of a page in a book.
Holmes seems to step out from between the lines, his presence clear and calm, yet beneath his restraint lies a profound and understated power.
I felt a little dazed: "..."
Holmes turned his head slightly in my line of sight, his gaze falling on me, his tone calm to the point of being almost casual.
"Then let's get ready to go."
*
I had a Thai-style American breakfast for breakfast.
This sounds a bit like a nested doll, but it actually reflects how, in the last century, Thailand actively learned Western systems, culture, and lifestyles to avoid being colonized by Britain and France. In the mid-20th century, Western-style breakfasts were also localized in Thailand.
Therefore, in a Thai-style American breakfast, the bread is soft, the ham is thin, and there is sweetened condensed milk and sweetened coffee.
I chose caramel toast and egg rolls with kaya jam, paired with Thai milk tea.
The tea soup is orange-brown, with a warm aroma that blends sweetness, milk, tea, vanilla, and a hint of Southeast Asian spices.
Seeing that I loved eating, Watson recommended that I also try British scones.
"Hot scones are delicious even without jam or cream."
"Then I'll go eat with you next time."
I had barely finished speaking when Holmes asked, "Where were you between 10 p.m. and midnight last night? What were you doing?"
These words made my heart skip a beat.
I realized that what happened on the ship was very likely related to me.
When it comes to serious matters, I naturally wouldn't dare to joke around with him; making casual remarks could easily step on his landmines.
I answered quite readily: “I’ve been in the room the whole time, sleeping with Watson. I woke up once this morning when Watson left, and I heard him mutter something about ‘a case,’ then I went back to sleep until you came to wake me.”
At least on the issue of alibi, I still have Watson as proof—no one can prove that I got up in the middle of the process.
Holmes's eyes sharpened: "Have you been to Miss Blackwell's room?"
"No," I answered firmly.
He took out his phone, pulled up a photo, and handed it to me: "Then how do you explain the fact that your cat's hair was found in Miss Blackwell's room?"
Almost no one on the ship brought pets, except me.
The room is usually cleaned in the morning, so there won't be any cat hair.
I paused for a moment, then went through the timeline in my mind again.
"The cat hair could only have appeared in Miss Blackwell's room after 1:30 p.m. yesterday. I was with Watson during that time and didn't take the cat out. Even if Miki was too lively and wanted to run to other rooms, it wouldn't have been able to open the door and go in."
Holmes narrowed his eyes slightly, a meaningful smile playing on his lips: "Oh? You mean even Prince Michel couldn't open the door?"
I nodded: "That's right, the only place it can go is the room where I am."
Holmes paused for a moment, then slowly put his phone away, as if considering his next move: "That...is going to be interesting."
Watson frowned and said in a low voice, "Isn't this a dead end?"
I twirled the fork on the table, thinking, "This means that the suspect in this case is very likely carrying cat hair and has had contact with my cat."
Watson looked at Holmes, his expression complex: "You suspect that Milverton is indeed involved?"
I shook my head, twirling the fork in my hand gently. "You can't say that. Holmes had cat hair on him last night, and he didn't have an alibi, did he?"
Holmes nodded slightly: "That's true."
He paused, then added, "Besides Milverton and me, there was another Mr. Moriarty who also had contact with cats."
Oh wow!
My eyes lit up immediately.
"This is so interesting!"
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Author's note: See you tomorrow! I'm too sleepy to write what I'm about to write right now!
20 random small red envelopes!! Thank you!!
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