Russell slowly straightened up, rubbed his eyes, turned his head, and met a pair of smiling azure eyes.
"Good morning, Mr. Watson."
Mary was wearing a well-tailored pale blue dress today, her long silver hair loosely tied behind her head with a ribbon. At this moment, the young girl looked just like an ordinary, well-off noble young lady.
If one ignored the way she looked like she wanted to dismantle him last night.
"Good morning, Miss Morstan." Russell yawned, responding lazily. "As the freshman representative, shouldn't you be sitting in the front row supporting the professor?"
"The sunlight here is just right," Mary responded with a smile. "Besides, whether one wants to learn has no direct relation to where one sits, does it?"
"Makes sense." Russell nodded, then with peace of mind, flopped back down to continue his great undertaking of catching up on sleep.
His righteous 'lazy dog' appearance seemed to completely exceed Mary's expectations.
[Mary Morstan feels a trace of surprise at your "unconventional behavior."]
The System notification rang in Russell's mind, but he couldn't be bothered to pay attention to it. However, the scent mixed of white tea and ink did not leave; instead, it got closer.
Immediately after, something hard poked his lower back.
"Mr. Watson." Mary's voice rang out again, still with that gentle, smiling tone, but Russell felt a chill run down his spine.
"Hmm?" Russell buried his face in the crook of his arm, emitting a muffled nasal sound.
"Did you not sleep well last night?" Mary asked with concern.
"If your neighbor were Charlotte Holmes, you wouldn't sleep well either," Russell said while yawning.
"Mm-hmm?" Mary raised an eyebrow, seeming interested in Russell's words. "Is it about the Nicholas Winter case?"
"How did you know?" Russell rarely lifted his head, looking at Mary with some surprise.
"If there's any shocking case in London recently, it has to be this one," Mary explained. "Many nobles are discussing it because Mr. Nicholas Winter's works were very popular among the aristocracy during his lifetime. And now that he has unfortunately passed away, the value of those posthumous works has been driven up to an exaggerated degree."
"Ha, they're feasting on human blood mantou," Russell curled his lip.
"Human blood mantou...?"
"Mantou... just understand it as Eastern bread."
"No, I know what it is. I'm just a bit surprised by this summary," Mary said. "It really is a cruel and vivid metaphor."
She paused, then glanced toward the professor on the stage. After confirming the old professor was still immersed in his own world, she withdrew her gaze.
"Can you tell me about that case?"
Mary's voice was kept very low, like a lover's whisper, yet it carried a curiosity that shouldn't belong to someone of her status.
Sunlight filtered through the window, plating a warm golden rim onto the tips of her silver hair, making her look like a harmless and beautiful classical sculpture. Russell, however, read a certain... desire to win from the depths of those azure eyes, completely distinct from this harmless exterior.
Again?
He muttered internally. One Charlotte wasn't enough, now comes a Mary Morstan. Do all you geniuses have a pathological desire to pry into other people's privacy?
[Mary Morstan feels a trace of impatience at your silence. Malice Points +10]
Hey, it even comes with an automatic reminder to update.
Russell rolled his eyes internally, but on his face, he revealed a just-right expression of difficulty.
"Miss Morstan, this is internal information from Scotland Yard... You know, I can't just tell others casually."
"If it's sleep-talking, it doesn't count as telling others, right?" Mary smiled, defining Russell's act of leaking secrets.
Russell was momentarily speechless.
"So, she really took over this case." She used a declarative sentence, not a question. "Then she must be very... distressed right now?"
"More than just distressed," Russell found an outlet and started pouring out his bitterness. Since the other party already knew, he might as well smash the pot completely.
"She played the violin all night last night... You have no idea how noisy that was."
Mary seemed to be able to imagine the scene, the smile in her eyes deepening slightly. "Charlotte Holmes plays the violin very badly?"
"I wouldn't go that far, but... it was the middle of the night. Never mind Charlotte Holmes, even if Paganini came, he'd have to pick the right occasion," Russell said flatly.
"Not to mention I was dragged by her to discuss the case. She feels she has found all the clues and evidence, but that apprentice just won't plead guilty. And now, Scotland Yard has already held him for twenty-four hours. In another twenty-four hours, they'll have to release the murderer due to insufficient evidence. For Charlotte Holmes, this seems to be an unacceptable result."
"The murderer, huh..." Mary pondered for a moment. "Why are you all so certain that Edgar Wright is the murderer?"
"If not him, who else?" Russell retorted.
"Perhaps you all don't understand, but I know a thing or two." Mary cleared her throat, then lowered her voice, speaking with a kind of intimacy as if sharing a secret:
"My father once hosted that pair of teacher and student. The feeling Mr. Edgar Wright gave me was that he respected his teacher very much. Mr. Nicholas Winter only had painting in his life; for this, he didn't even marry, let alone leave any offspring."
She paused, then continued:
"Furthermore, he lacked some... basic common sense in social interactions. Simply put, his EQ wasn't very high, and every time this happened, it was Mr. Edgar Wright who stepped in. I could see that he respected his teacher from the bottom of his heart and regarded him as his own father.
"And Mr. Nicholas Winter obviously saw this too; otherwise, he wouldn't have said that he had already decided to leave everything to Mr. Edgar Wright after his retirement."
"There's such a thing?" Russell perked up a bit. "Never heard of that."
"This was mentioned when he was chatting with my father. Perhaps he hadn't had time to write it into the will yet, but Edgar Wright was definitely present at the time," Mary said. "So I think he had absolutely no reason, and no motive, to murder his master."
"What if he's faking?" Russell said subconsciously, but Mary refuted it almost immediately.
"Impossible."
"Why?" Russell didn't understand. "The reason?"
"Eyes. His eyes."
She looked at Russell, smiling as she spoke the sentence he had said to her when they first met:
"Eyes don't lie."
________________________________________
If you want more chapters, please consider supporting my page on (P). with 50 advanced chapters available on (P)
👻 Join the crew by searching Leanzin on (P). You know the spot! 😉