\t\tNorwood Architects

"From the perspective of a criminal investigation expert," said Mr. Sherlock Holmes, "Since Professor Moriarty's death, London has become a very boring city."

"I don't think many citizens will agree with you," I replied.

He smiled and said, "Yes, yes, I shouldn't be so selfish." Then he moved the chair away from the dining table, "Of course, this is very beneficial to society. Except for the poor experts, no one can suffer losses. When that person is moving, you can almost find many possible situations in the morning newspaper every day. And, usually even if there is only a little bit of a vague clue, a vague sign is enough to tell us where the vicious bandit leader is? Just like there is a light edge of a spider web.

A slight tremor reminds you of the hateful spider hidden in the middle of the web. For those who have grasped clues, even a small and casual atrocities or unexplained crimes may be connected to life. For a scholar who studies the upper gangsters, all other capitals in Europe do not have the favorable conditions for London. But now..." He shrugged his shoulders and expressed his humorous dissatisfaction with the status quo that he had spent a lot of energy on.

When I was talking now, Holmes had been back to China for several months. I transferred my clinic as he wanted and moved to my old residence on Baker Street. A young doctor named Ferner bought a small clinic I opened in Kenton. He paid the highest price I took without hesitation. It really made me wonder. A few years later, when I discovered that he was actually a distant relative of Holmes and that the money was actually raised, I suddenly realized.

In the months we worked together, time was not as plain as he said. Because I briefly looked through my notes and picked out the case of the former President Muriro and the case of the Dutch steamer "Friesland", which almost killed us. However, Holmes had a calm and self-respecting side in his character, and he never liked any kind of praise. He used the strictest regulations to restrict me from saying a word about his achievements. I have explained it, and it has not been lifted until now.

After a strange discussion, Mr. Holmes leaned on the back of the chair and opened the newspaper leisurely. At this time, a scary doorbell caught our attention, and then there was a fierce knock on the door, like someone punching the door with his fist. The door opened, and I heard someone rushing through the aisle and rushing upstairs. After a while, a young man with a pale face and a messy hair rushed into the house frantically, his eyes were full of anger and trembling. He looked around and saw us, and under our gaze, he seemed to be apologized.

He shouted: "I'm sorry, two gentlemen, which one is Mr. Holmes, please don't blame me, I'm going to be sick, I'm the lucky John Hector McFallon."

His way of introducing himself was very special, but judging from the expressions of my companions, it did not cause much shock, and Sherlock Holmes seemed to have no response.

"Dear Mr. McFallon, please smoke a cigarette," he said, and handed the cigarette box to the young man. "Young man, my friend will prescribe a tranquilizer for you based on your current condition. The weather has been quite hot lately. If you feel more stable, please sit down on the chair over there and tell us slowly who you are and what is wrong. It seems that I should recognize you, but, besides the fact that you are a celibate, lawyer, Tongzi member, and asthma patient is so obvious, to be honest, I don't know much about you."

Because I knew my friend's wisdom so well, it was easy for me to understand his reasoning. My friend made a speculation from the young man's clothes, the items he carried with him, the amulets on his bracelet and his breathing sound. But this shocked the young client.

He said, "That's right, you are talking about me. In addition, I am the least lucky person in London. For God's sake, don't ignore me. Mr. Holmes, if I had not finished speaking before they arrested me, please give me enough time to finish speaking and tell you all the facts. If I knew you were outside to act for me, I would have walked into prison with great pleasure."

"Add you?!" Sherlock Holmes said, "It's such a...that's so interesting. So what charges will you be arrested?"

“Mr. Jonath Odeck, who murdered Norwood.”

"Oh," he said, "When breakfast was just over, I told my friend Dr. Watson that all the sensational cases in society had disappeared from the newspapers."

Our young guest stretched out his shaking hands to pick up the Daily Telegraph on Holmes' knee. "If you have read the telegram, sir, then you must see why I came to you today. I think almost everyone is talking about my name and disaster." He turned the newspaper to the page where the news was published. "Here, if you agree, I will read it to you. Listen, Mr. Holmes, this is the title: 'Norwood's mysterious case-the disappearance of a famous construction engineer-suspected to be arson murder-the clue', that is the clue they are pursuing, sir, I understand that it will definitely lead to me. I got off at London Bridge Station and were followed, and they were just waiting to issue my arrest warrant. This will make my mother very sad - it will definitely!" In a nervous horror, he held his hand hard and swayed back and forth in the chair.

Then I had the opportunity to look at the poor man carefully: he had light yellow hair, clear eyebrows, but seemed a little tired, his two blue eyes with a look of horror, his face was shaved cleanly, his nerve-wracking corners seemed unintentional, he was about twenty years old, and his clothes were quite like a gentleman, and a roll of visa certificates appeared from his light summer pocket, which could illustrate his profession.

"We're going to use this time," said Sherlock Holmes. "Dear Watson, please pick up the newspaper and read the paragraph I just said?"

Just under the headline quoted by our client, there is a suggestive narrative, I read:

"Later night last night or early this morning, an accident occurred in Norwood, which is probably a serious crime. Mr. Jonas Odek, a single, 52 years old, lives in the Valley Villa of the End of Sidenhan Road. He is famous for his withdrawal habits. He is usually taciturn and rarely socializes. He has withdrawn from the construction industry in recent years, but there is still a timber yard behind the house. At around 12 o'clock last night, a fire broke out in the wood storage area, and the fire truck arrived soon. Because the fire was dry, the fire was very fierce and he was unable to extinguish it. It was not extinguished until the pile of wood burned out. Until now, the cause of the fire seemed to be accidental, but there was another phenomenon that might be a serious crime. It was indeed amazing that the owner was not seen at the fire scene.

. After verification, it was found that the owner of the household had been missing for a long time. He checked the bedroom. No one had slept in the bed. The safe door was opened and several important documents were scattered on the ground. Finally, he found signs of fierce fighting in the room, and there were a small amount of blood and an oak cane with blood stained on the handle. It is now found that Mr. Odek had been in the bedroom that night, and the cane was the guest. The late night visitor was the young lawyer, Yohector McFallon, who was a partner of Grame, at No. 427, Glesham Building, the Middle East District. The police were sure that strong evidence had been found to explain the motive of the crime. In short, the matter had developed surprisingly, without doubt."

Sherlock Holmes closed his eyes and pointed his fingers at each other, listening to this surprising report.

“There are indeed a few points worth noting in this case,” he said slowly. “Mr. McFarron, I would like to ask first, why are you still free, since there is sufficient evidence to arrest you?”

"Mr. Holmes, I lived with my parents at Blackshed Dorlington's apartment, but last night I had to do something for Mr. Jonath Odeck, and I settled in Norwood's hotel from there and got to his house. I saw the news you had just heard on the train and knew what was going on. I immediately realized that I was in a bad situation and came to ask you to handle the case. I knew if I was in the office or home in the city, I would have been arrested. I suspected that someone would be stalking me in the London car - Oops! Who is coming?"

At this time the doorbell rang, and immediately the heavy footsteps came from the other side of the stairs. After a while, our old friend Restrade appeared at the door. Two uniformed policemen stood behind him.

Our unfortunate client stood up, his face pale.

"We formally arrest you for your intentional murder of Mr. Jonas Odeck of Norwood."

At this time, McFallon made a desperate gesture to ask us for help.

Holmes hurriedly said, "Wait, Mr. Lestrade. There will be no problem in another half an hour. The gentleman is about to tell us about this very interesting thing. This may help us figure it out."

"I don't think it's too difficult to figure it out." Restrade said coldly.

"But if you agree, I'm interested in listening to him."

"Well, sir, it's very difficult for me to refuse any of your requests, because you have helped us once or twice in the past, and we are still owed you a favor in terms of our London Police Department." Restrade said, "I have to be with the suspect and have to warn him that what he said will be a confession."

“It couldn’t be better,” said our client. “I ask you to listen to me and hope you believe what I say is absolutely true.”

Restrade looked at the watch. "I'll give you half an hour." He said.

"I have to make it clear," said McFarron, "I don't know anything about Mr. Jonath Odeck. I know his name very well, because my parents knew him many years ago, but they later became alienated. So, at about three o'clock yesterday afternoon, when he walked into my office in town, I was even more surprised after he explained his purpose. He held a few pages of paper torn from his notebook in his hand, and the paper was full of scribbled words-these were the ones--he put them on my desk.

"'This is my will, Mr. McFarron, I want you to write it in the formal legal format, you write it, I'll sit here."

"So I began to copy that will. When I saw him leaving all the other property to me except for some of his property, you could imagine my surprise. He was a weird guy like a little ferret with white eyebrows. When I looked up at him, I found him staring at me with sharp gray eyes. The expression on his face seemed very happy. Just as I read the terms in the will, I could not believe my eyes. Later, he explained that he was a single man with no concern. When he was young, he was friends with my parents, and thought I was a trustworthy young man, so he felt relieved to hand over the money to me. At that time,

I can only say something grateful. After the will is written, I signed it and the witness is my secretary. It was written on this blue paper. I said that these small notes are just straw paper. Mr. Odek then told me that there are some credentials - leases, deeds, mortgage deeds, temporary certificates, etc., which should be shown. He said that he would only be relieved when all of this was done, and said that he would ask me to bring this will to Norwood. Arrange everything at his house. ‘Remember! Child, don’t tell your parents before everything is finished. Let’s not tell them for a small surprise.’ He insisted on doing this and asked me to promise to do it.

"You can imagine that I was unwilling to refuse all his requests at that time. He became my protector. I wanted to fulfill his wish perfectly from my heart. I decided to call home and say that I had important things on hand and could not be sure how late I would go home. Mr. Odeck said he hoped I could have dinner with him at nine o'clock, because he might not have arrived home before nine o'clock. He lived in a place that was hard to find, and I arrived at his house at half past nine. I found him..."

Hearing this, Holmes asked quickly: "Wait a minute! Who is the one who opened the door for you?"

"A middle-aged woman, I think he is probably a housekeeper."

"It's probably her who said your name?"

"Yes," said McFallon.

"Please keep talking."

McFarron wiped the sweat from his forehead with his hands and continued to preach: "This woman led me into a living room, where a simple supper was set up. Later, Mr. Odeck led me to the bedroom, where there was a safe. She opened the door and took out a large stack of documents. We looked through the documents carefully and finished it between 11 and 12 o'clock. He said he would not let us disturb the butler. So at his suggestion, I went out of the window, which was always open."

"Have the curtains been put down?" asked Sherlock Holmes.

"I don't remember this very clearly, but I remembered that I had put it down halfway. In order to open the window, he pulled up the curtains. I looked for the cane, but I couldn't find it. He said, 'It doesn't matter, child, I hope you come often, I will keep your cane, and I'll get it next time I come and get it.' When I left, the safe in the bedroom was open. There were small bags of small bags on the table. It was too late, and I couldn't go back to Blackheath, so I spent the night at the Annaly Arms Hotel. I didn't know anything else, but I only realized this terrible thing when I read the newspaper today."

"Do you still have any questions? Mr. Holmes." said Restrade, after he heard the young man's talk, I saw him raise his eyebrows several times.

"I think there is basically nothing before going to Brexis."

"You want to say it's before going to Norwood!" said Restrade.

"Yes, I'm talking about Norwood." Sherlock Holmes said, with a smile on his face, somewhat unpredictable. From experience, Restrade knew that his brain was like a sharp razor that could cut anything he thought was indestructible. He just didn't want to admit it. I saw him looking at my friend curiously.

"Mr. Holmes," he said, "I want to say a few words to you later. Well, Mr. McFarron, my two officers are at the door, and there is a four-wheeled carriage waiting outside." The poor man stood up, and looked at us with a last look in his eyes, and walked out of the house. The police took him into the carriage, and Lestrade stayed. Holmes looked at the pages of straw paper wills in his hand, and looked very interested on his face.

"This will is very distinctive, Restrade, what do you think?" He handed out the straw paper in his hand.

"I can see something strange, and there are a few things that are not printed clearly," he said.

"What do you think?" Sherlock Holmes said.

Lestrade asked back: "How do you explain?"

"This is obviously written on the train. A clear place means the train is on the station, and a unclear part means the train is moving. The vague place means the train is passing through the fork. An experienced expert can immediately determine that it is written on a suburban railway main line. Because only near a big city can we encounter forks one after another. If he writes his will all the time of his journey, it must be a express train, which was stopped only once between Norwood and the London Bridge.

Restrade smiled with admiration.

"Mr. Holmes, you are really better at analyzing the problem than me," he said. "How much does what you said have to do with the case?"

"This can fully prove that this will was drawn up by Jonas Odek during his journey yesterday. A person wrote such an important document with such an indecent attitude. Don't you find it strange? This shows that he does not value this will at all, and only those who do not want the will they make to take effect can do it."

"This is equivalent to giving yourself a death verdict at the same time," said Restrade.

"Oh, do you think so?"

"Don't you think so?"

"The possibility is very high, but I'm not sure about this case yet."

"If such a case is not clear, what is clearer than this? A young man suddenly learned that an old man was about to die and he could inherit a property immediately. How should he do it? He did not want to tell anyone, and arranged an excuse to see his client at night. When the last third party in the house fell asleep. He killed his client in a separate room, burned the body in a pile of wood, and then left to the hotel next to him. There was very little blood in the bedroom and on the cane, and he might not think that the blood could be left behind. The murderer hoped that after destroying the body, he could cover up all the signs of killing the client, because those traces would be exposed sooner or later. Isn't this obvious?"

"Restid, I feel that what you are talking about is too obvious," said Sherlock Holmes. "You have no imagination, but if you put yourself in your shoes, would you choose to murder at night when you make a will? Don't you think it's dangerous to have such a close connection between making a will and killing? And, would you choose the opportunity when someone knows you're coming, and it's the servants here who open the door and let you in? In the end, will you try your best to hide the body, but leave your cane as evidence of your crime?Restid, you'll definitely think it's impossible."

"I think, Mr. Holmes, you and I should know that a criminal is always nervous and panicked, and often makes mistakes that can be avoided by a calm mind. He is very likely not to dare to go back to the room. Will you give me another speculation that is more in line with the facts?"

"I can easily give you several speculations. For example, there is a possible, even very likely speculation, that I can give it to you as a gift, and the old man asked the young man to see the expensive securities, because the curtains were only half lowered, and a vagabond who happened to pass saw them through the window, and the young man left, and the vagabond came in, and saw the cane, and he picked up the cane and beat Mr. Odek to death, then burned the body and ran away."

"But why did the homeless man burn the body?"

"I can also ask you, why did McFarron do this?"

"It's nothing more than to cover up the evidence."

"Maybe the homeless man doesn't want others to know there is a murder."

"But why didn't the homeless man take away some things?"

"Because those documents cannot be transferred."

"Well, Mr. Holmes, you can find your vagabond. When you look, we will not let this young man go. In the future, we will prove that our view is correct. One thing please note, Mr. Holmes, as far as we know, has not been passed. Our criminals do not have to take them away, because he is the legal heir and can be obtained under any circumstances."

My partner seemed to be stimulated by such words. "I don't want to deny that all the current evidence is beneficial to your speculation to some extent," he said. "I just want to say that there may be other possible speculations. As you said, there will be a certain understanding in the future. Goodbye, today I might go to Norwood to see how you are going."

After the detective left, Sherlock Holmes stood up from the chair and began to prepare for the day's work with the look that people often faced with interesting things. "Warson, I just said that the place where I started to act was Blackheath." He said as he hurriedly put on his coat.

"But why not Norwood?"

"In the case, we found two strange things that followed, and the police were making a mistake - their attention was all focused on the second thing, because he did have the possibility of committing a crime. But I think it should be a matter of no explanation. It was that very unusual will. It was determined so frivolously and handed over to an unexpected heir to inherit. If it was clear at this point, then the next thing would be much easier.

"Dear friend, I don't think you can help, and I will not be in danger if I act alone. When I see you in the evening, I will tell you what I did for the young man who seeks protection."

But when my companions came home, it was already very late. From his anxious and haggard face, I could clearly see that all his hopes had been lost. He had played the violin for about an hour, and the sound of the piano seemed gloomy and monotonous. He wanted to use all his strength to calm his irritability. At the end, he suddenly put down the piano and told in detail about his failure.

"It's all wrong, Watson, it's so wrong. I pretended to be indifferent to Restrade, but from my heart, I believe that this time he found the right path and we went wrong. My intuition pointed to one side, but all facts pointed to the other side. I'm afraid the intelligence of the British jury is far from this level, which leads them to rather accept my hypothesis rather than Lestrade's evidence."

"Have you been to Shilexis?"

"Yes, Watson, you're right. After I arrived, I soon discovered that the dead Odek was a villain who had to be taken seriously. McFarron's father complained to find his son. His mother was at home. She was a woman with blue eyes, a short, ignorant woman, fear and anger made her tremble. Of course, she thought her son could not have committed a crime at all. But she was not surprised by Odek's experience, nor was she a pity. On the contrary, when talking about Odek, she always showed a hatred, which was equivalent to evidence of her unconscious support for the police. Because if her son had heard her talk about Odek like this, she would naturally make her hate her and commit crimes. 'Odek was not as good as a vicious monster before,' she said, 'He was always a monster when he was young.'

“‘Did you know him then?’ I said.

"'In fact, he was the first person to propose to me. Fortunately, I had the vision and left him and married a man a little poorer than him, but definitely better than him. Just after I got engaged with Odek, I heard about how he put a cat in the aviary. His cruel behavior made me extremely disgusted and I would never have any contact with him again.' She pulled out a photo from the desk drawer, and the face was broken.' This is my picture,' she said, 'On the day I got married, he sent it like this to curse me.'

“'But it should be clear,' I said, 'at least he forgives you now, because all his possessions have been given to your son.'
To be continued...