Operation Red Book

Chapter 223 London Bridge Mass Suicide 1

The air in the white ward was unusually quiet.

Silence invaded every corner of the space, and the spacious room seemed a little cramped at this moment.

Ivy was still lying on the hospital bed. Her breathing was weak and the thin blanket on her chest rose and fell, forming even waves.

Joshua lowered his head, feeling extremely sleepy. His vision became blurry and limited, and his consciousness gradually became dispersed.

Moriarty sat at the other end of the bed, the stack of newspapers neatly arranged and replaced on his raised knees.

There are many anecdotes in the newspapers, and the headlines are also varied.

"Bastenberg Love Chronicles: The Prince's Fifth Mistress", "The Naked Man Who Fell from the Sky Came from the Baron's Study", "The Unclear Stories Between the Famous Detective Sherlock Holmes and the University Professor", "A Shocking Joke: It Is Predicted that One Day the British Prime Minister Will Be an Indian", "The Chinese Dock Is Closed, Are They Reluctant to Give Up the Restaurant or the Girl", "Mrs. Emerson Was Attacked in the Bedroom by a Streetwalker from the East"...

It’s really...unbearable to look at!

Moriarty endured the obscene headlines one after another, trying to find useful news reports among the pile of nonsense that had nothing to do with the headlines.

He drew circles on the newspaper, but unfortunately he made the whole newspaper black and couldn't find anything.

The Chinese wharf, the Americans, Mrs. Emerson, the Florence Welfare Home, and the mysterious central character Ivy.

There is no logic or connection. Events pile up on top of each other like the thick fog rising in the forest in the morning.

There were few women recorded in newspapers, and getting information about Ivy's social connections in London from newspapers was like looking for a needle in a haystack.

Moriarty sighed deeply, and Count Vincent Waite gave him an order: find out all the information about Ivy and ensure that she is intact.

Sometimes, he really felt that Count Waite was a child who had been reincarnated several times, with a soul of thousands of years in his body, and a personality that could not get rid of the child's willfulness.

He always smiles and orders people to do this and that, but never tells them why. He is always moody, always ambivalent, and always treats himself as the supreme emperor...

I'm so unlucky to have such a boss! Sooner or later I'll pour a whole bottle of Hennessy on his head!

The more Moriarty thought about it, the angrier he got. The newspaper in front of him had already been slashed with several scratches by him. The tip of his pen broke on the paper, and a slight "crunch, crunch" sound was made by his back teeth.

"Oh my god..."

Moriarty let out a soft cry, which was like an insignificant feather, floating in the room, accidentally tickling a sleepy person and only causing his breathing to become disordered for a moment.

He folded the scribbled newspaper again and again, and kept thinking about the annoying things the Count had done over the years.

Suddenly, a news headline under his thumb caught his eye - "Latin American Beauty and Charm: The Unspeakable Secrets of London Bridge".

Moriarty's irritation was instantly swept away. He blinked twice quickly and involuntarily lowered his raised left leg.

All the newspapers on his knees fell down, making a loud friction sound, waking up Joshua who was dozing off with his head down.

"What's wrong? What happened to Ivy-san?"

Joshua stood up excitedly, and only breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Ivy lying quietly on the bed.

He rubbed his sleepy eyes and his gaze fell on Moriarty opposite him. He held the newspaper in both hands, and his already thin lips were pursed into a straight line at this time.

It seemed that Mr. Moriarty was too serious when reading the newspaper. Joshua finally felt relieved and sat back in the wooden chair which was still warm.

“Joshua.”

Moriarty's voice came from the opposite side, not far away, nor near, with a unique coldness and alienation, which immediately woke up Joshua who was taking a nap.

"What's the matter, Mr. Moriarty?"

"Did Mr. Holmes tell you anything about the London Bridge case?"

"I told you, several days ago... was it several weeks ago? Sorry, I'm not thinking straight right now."

"It is said that there are many drowned bodies in the lower reaches of the Thames. Two-thirds of them are men, ranging in age from 16 to 80; a few are women, all over 45 years old, who have been dead for more than 24 hours, and..."

Joshua blushed and began to squirm. The words Holmes used when explaining the case were too indecent.

"When the deceased were found, they were not covered with clothes, and there were many...many marks of, uh, pleasure...pleasure on their bodies..."

Moriarty laughed, and he seemed to be in a good mood, no longer smiling politely as before.

"Thank you very much for saving my weak ears by not saying what Mr. Holmes said."

“Mr. Holmes’s wording is a bit vulgar. I’m afraid not many people can say it…” Joshua scratched his head embarrassedly.

"Mr. Holmes said that he has already located the scene of the crime, which is London Bridge in the middle and lower reaches of the Thames."

"There is a 40s pub on the riverbank not far away. Customers come and go there. It is open all night long, and many true and false rumors are circulated there."

"Mr. Holmes played finger-guessing games and drank with the people in the bar until late at night before he interrogated them and got a mixture of truth and falsehood."

"That night, a drunk in the tavern ran to the river to vomit. When he looked up, he saw a line of naked people. This group of people lined up silently, just like normal people."

"But at the end of their line, in the center of London Bridge, a man climbed up the railing, opened his arms, and plunged into the water..."

"Just like that, one by one, one by one, they all jumped into the water and disappeared."

Joshua's voice was a little heavy, and he picked at the black button on his shirt with two fingers. The button looked loose and would probably fall off soon.

He quickly calmed himself down and continued discussing the case with Moriarty.

"But have you discovered any new clues? Mr. Holmes said that you had a bet with him on this case."

"Yes, the London Bridge mass suicide incident is a case I have been tracking, but as the exam season approaches in the past few weeks, my workload has become much heavier, and I haven't found any new clues in the past few days."

Moriarty slowly folded the newspaper in his hand, and a determined smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

"Is there any new clue in the newspaper? Let me see, let me see. I was very curious when Mr. Holmes told me the details of the case!"

Moriarty smiled even more deeply, folded the newspaper again and again, and put it solemnly back into his trouser pocket, looking like he didn't want anyone to approach him.

"Mr. Moriarty..." Joshua frowned.

"I will certainly not pass on the clues you have gathered to Mr. Holmes."

"So what was that passage you just told me?" Moriarty blinked and poured himself a new cup of tea.

"Which passage?"

Joshua's eyes were full of confusion. He scratched the curly hair on the back of his head and was silent for a long time before he realized that he had just revealed the clues that Holmes had found in the tavern.

"Mr. Holmes told me to keep you updated on his progress. He said he would win in the end. Did you laugh just now? I have never seen you laugh with your mouth open like that."

"Hahaha! It's okay, I just heard the biggest joke of 1881..."

"Mr. Moriarty...Mr. Holmes is not as weak as you think. He is a super powerful detective. In my mind, your abilities are equally strong."

"Hahahahahaha!"

Moriarty burst into laughter a few more times upon hearing this. His golden hair trembled in the air, and crystal tears fell from the corners of his eyes, falling into the deep nasolabial folds.

He has always been polite and never smiles. Could such an outrageous behavior be a joke from Holmes?

This kind of Moriarty seemed a little strange to Joshua, yet also indescribably familiar.

Come to think of it… Such hearty laughter often occurred late at night when Joshua was repeatedly woken up.

"It's like Mr. Holmes staying up late at night to read court files and then laughing like crazy."

Joshua spoke his mind expressionlessly.

This trick worked. Moriarty stopped laughing immediately and tidied himself up in two or three steps.