Chapter 2 Mr Sherlock Holmes

In the year 1878 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 sent into 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 landed at Bombay, I heard that the corps to which I belonged had passed through the passes, and advanced into enemy territory.Nevertheless, I followed a group of officers who had fallen behind like myself, and reached Kandahar in safety.There I found my regiment and immediately took up my new duties.

This battle brought promotion and honor to many people, but it brought me only misfortune and disaster.After I was transferred to the Buck State Brigade, I joined this brigade in the desperate battle at Maiwande.During this battle, I was shot in the shoulder, which shattered the shoulder bone and grazed the artery just below the collarbone.Had not my valiant orderly, Murray, seized me and thrown me on the back of a pack-horse, and brought me safely back to the English line, I should have fallen into the hands of those cruel men. The pain left me paralyzed, and the long-term tossing and fatigue made me even weaker.So I was sent to the rear hospital in Boshul together with a large number of wounded.There my health improved greatly, but when I was able to walk a little about the ward, and even bask in the sun on the verandah, I fell ill again and suffered from the bad luck of our Indian possessions. Epidemic - typhoid.For several months, I was unconscious and dying.At last I regained my senses and gradually recovered.But after my illness I was very weak and haggard, so after consultation with the doctor it was decided that I should be sent back to England immediately without a day's delay.So I was sent home on the troop carrier Orentez.A month later I landed on the docks at Portsmouth.At that time, my health was so bad that it was almost impossible to recover.However, the kind government gave me a nine-month vacation so that I could take care of my health.

I have no friends in England, so I am as free as air; or as free as a man who earns eleven and sixpence a day.Under these circumstances I was naturally drawn to London, that great cesspool into which all the vagrants and idlers of the British Empire are drawn.I lived for some time in a flat on the Embankment Road in London, and lived an uncomfortable and very dull life, spending money as soon as I got it, far beyond what I could afford, and my financial The situation became very panicked.It soon became apparent to me that I had to leave the metropolis and emigrate to the country; or I had to change my way of life completely.I opted for the latter course, determined to leave the apartment and find a less luxurious and less expensive lodging.

On the day I decided to do this, someone tapped me on the shoulder as I was standing in front of Cleterian's Bar.I looked back and it turned out to be Little Stanford.He was one of my assistants at Butts.It is indeed a very pleasant thing for a lonely man to meet an acquaintance in this vast and crowded city of London.Stanford was not a particularly good friend of mine 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 together. When our car rattled through the busy streets of London, he asked me in amazement: "Watson, what have you been doing lately? You look sallow and emaciated, with only a handful of bones left."

I gave him a brief account of my dangerous experience.Before my words were finished, we arrived at 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 plan to rent some cheap and comfortable houses." , I don’t know if this problem can be solved.” My partner said, "That's weird, you're the second person to say that to me today." I asked, "Who was the first one?" "A man who works in a hospital laboratory. He was still moaning this morning because he found a few good houses, but the rent was very high. He couldn't afford to live alone, and he couldn't find anyone to share with him."

I said, "Well, if he's really looking for someone to live with, I'm the one he's looking for. I think it's better to have company than to be alone." Little Stanford looked at me in amazement from his glass, and said, "You don't know Sherlock Holmes, or you might not want to be his long-term companion." "Why, is there anything wrong with him?" "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 fellow, as far as I know." I said, "Maybe he's a medical student?"

"No, I have no idea what he's studying. I believe he's good at anatomy and a first-rate pharmacist. But, as far as I know, he never studied medicine systematically. His studies are very Messy, unsystematic, and queer; yet he has amassed a knowledge of the odd and outlandish, enough to astonish his professors." I asked, "Did you never ask him what he was working on?" "No, he doesn't say what's in his heart easily, although when he's happy, he's also very talkative." I said, "I'd like to see him. If I had to live with someone else, I'd rather live with someone who is studious and quiet. I'm not strong enough for noise and excitement. I'm in Afghanistan's had enough of that for the rest of 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 work there from morning to night. If you like, we will drive together after dinner. " "Of course I would!" I said, and we moved on to other topics. On our way from Houben to the hospital, Stanford gave me some more details about the gentleman. He said: "Don't blame me if you don't get along with him. I just happened to meet him in the laboratory, and know him a little; otherwise, I don't know anything about him. Since you proposed it yourself, then , don’t hold me accountable.”

I replied, "If we don't get along, it's easy to break up." I looked at my companion and continued, "Stanford, I see that you seem to be holding back on this matter, and there must be a reason. .Is this person's temper really that terrible, or is there another reason? Don't hesitate like this." He smiled and said: "It's not easy to put into words the indescribable. I think Holmes is a bit too scientific, almost cold-blooded. I remember once, he took a handful Plant alkaloids for his friends to try. You know, this is not out of malice, just a research motive, to properly understand the different effects of this drug. In all fairness, I think he He would have swallowed it himself. It seems he has a strong taste for exact knowledge."

"This spirit is also right." "Yes, but it was too much. Later he even beat the corpse with a stick in the autopsy room. After all, it is a strange thing." "Slap the corpse!" "Yeah, he's trying to show what kind of scars a man can make after death. I've seen him whip dead bodies." "Didn't you say that he didn't study medicine?" "Yes. God knows what he's working on. Now that we're here, you can see for yourself what kind of person he is." He said, and we got out of the car and walked into a narrow alley, from a small Enter through the small side door and come to the wing of a large hospital.This is a place I am familiar with, and we walked up the white stone steps without a guide, and walked through a long corridor.The two walls 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 from here to the laboratory.

The laboratory is a tall room with countless bottles scattered around.Several low and large tables were arranged in a row, on which stood many stills, 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 far table, bent 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 shouted to my companion, holding the A test tube ran towards us, "I found a reagent that can only be precipitated with hemochrome protein, nothing else." Even if he found a gold mine, he would not necessarily appear happier than he is now. Stanford introduced us: "This is Dr. Watson, and this is Mr. Holmes." "Good day," said Holmes cordially, pressing my hand vigorously.I can't believe he has such strength. "I can see that you have been in Afghanistan." I asked in surprise, "How do you know?" "It's nothing." He giggled. "Now we're going to talk about the blood color protein. No problem. You must see the importance of my discovery, right?" I replied, "Chemically, it's certainly interesting, but practically..." "Why, sir, this is the most important discovery in practical forensic science in recent years. Can't you see that this reagent can make us infallible in identifying bloodstains? Please come here!" Take me by the cuff and drag me to the front of the desk where he used to work. "Let's get some blood," he said, pricking his finger with a long needle and sucking up the drop with a straw. "Now put this little blood in a liter of water. You see, the mixture is just like plain water. The blood is less than one part per million in this solution. Nevertheless, I I'm sure we can still get a specific reaction." As he spoke, he put a few white crystals into the container, and then added a few drops of transparent liquid.After a while, the solution turned dark red, and some brown particles gradually settled to the bottom of the bottle. "Ha! Ha!" he cried, clapping his hands, with the joy of a child at a new toy. "What do you think?" "It appears to be a very delicate experiment," I said. "Excellent! Absolutely excellent! The old test with guaiac was difficult and inaccurate. The microscopic examination of blood cells was equally bad. If the blood had been left to dry for a few hours, then use Microscopic examination does not work. Now, this new reagent seems to work no matter whether the bloodstain is new or old. If this test method had been discovered earlier, then hundreds of criminals who are now at large in the world would have been killed sooner. You will be punished by law." I murmured, "That's true!" "Many criminal cases depend on this. A suspect may not be identified until months after the crime has been committed. His shirt or other clothing is examined and there are brown spots on it. Are these spots blood or mud? , is it rust or traces of juice, or something else? This is a question that baffles many experts, but why? Simply because there is no reliable test. Now we have the Sherlock Holmes test, There will be no difficulties in the future." His eyes sparkled when he spoke.He pressed one hand to his chest and bowed, as if to thank the many imaginary applauding spectators. I was surprised to see his excitement, and I said, "I congratulate you." "There was the case of von Bischoff at Frankfurt last year. Had the test been available, he would have been hanged long ago. Then there was Mason of Bradford; the notorious Mortgage La Fevaux of Maumpellier, and Symson of New Orleans. I can cite more than a dozen cases in which this method would have been decisive." Stanford couldn't help laughing. He said, "You seem to be a living dictionary of crime cases. You could really start a newspaper and call it 'Police News Old Record'." "It will be very interesting to read such papers," said Holmes, putting a small piece of sticking-plaster over the gashed finger. "I must be careful," and turning to me, he smiled, and continued 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 almost covered with adhesive plaster of the same size, and due to the erosion of strong acid, his hands also changed color. "We've come to you for something," said Stanford, sitting on a three-legged stool, pushing the other stool towards me with his foot, and adding, "My friend wants to Find a place to live, and since you're complaining about not being able to find anyone to live with you, I thought I'd just introduce you both." Holmes seemed delighted at the offer to share with me, and 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 very nice. Don't you hate me, I do some chemicals a lot, and do experiments now and then?" "Never." "Let me see--what other faults do I have? Sometimes I am in a bad mood, and I don't talk for days at a time; in such cases, don't think I'm angry, but let me be, and it will soon be Okay. Do you have any shortcomings that you want to talk about? Before two people live together, it is best to understand each other's biggest shortcomings. " I couldn't help laughing when I heard him ask the bottom line like this.I said, "I have a small bulldog. My nerves are stimulated, and I am most afraid of noise. I get up at an uncertain time every day, and I am very lazy. When I was healthy, I had other bad habits, but at present the main thing is Those are the downsides." 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 play the violin badly..." "Ah, that is all right," said Holmes, smiling cheerfully. "If you are satisfied with the house, I think we may regard the matter as settled." "When are we going to look at the house?" He replied: "Come and see me here at noon tomorrow, and we will go together and decide everything." I shook his hand and said, "Okay, see you tomorrow at noon." When we left, he was still busy with his chemical experiments.Stanford and I walked to the apartment where I lived. "By the way," I said, stopping suddenly, and turning to Stanford, "how the hell does he know I'm from Afghanistan?" My companion smiled meaningfully, and said, "That's what makes him so special. A lot of people want to know how he sees things." "Well, isn't that very mysterious?" I said, rubbing my hands together. "It's very 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'll have to study him," said Stanford, as he said good-bye to me, "but you'll find him a very difficult character. I'll assure you he knows you better than you know him." .Goodbye!" I said, "Goodbye!" and walked slowly towards my apartment, thinking that my new friend was very interesting.

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