Chapter 15 eight endings

After the police trial, the John Douglas case was transferred to the higher court.The local court acquitted himself of murder in self-defense and sentenced him to release. "Get him out of England at any cost," Holmes wrote to Edward's wife. "There are dangers here, far more dangerous than those he has escaped. There is no safe haven for your husband in England." land." Two months passed, and we gradually forgot about the case.But one morning, we received an inexplicable letter in our mailbox.There were only a few simple words on the letter: "My God, Mr. Holmes, my God!" There was neither address nor signature.I didn't find it funny when I saw this bizarre sentence, but Holmes looked very serious.

"It must be something bad, Watson!" said Holmes, sitting there with frowning eyebrows. It was late in the night when Mrs. Hudson, our landlady, came in to announce that a gentleman wanted to see Holmes.Immediately after the briefer came in Cecil Barker, our friend from Birlstone Hall.Buck looked gloomy and haggard. "I have sad news, terrible news, Mr. Holmes," said Barker. "I am, too," said Holmes. "Didn't you get the telegram?" "I have a letter from a man." "Poor Douglas. His real name, they tell me, is Edward, but to me he will always be Jack Douglas of the Benito Canyon. Three weeks ago the two of them arrived together on the Palmyra steamer. South Africa went."

"good." "The ship arrived at Cape Town last night. I had a telegram this morning from Mrs. Douglas: 'Jack unfortunately fell into the sea in high winds near St. Helena.No one knows how such an accident happened. Ivy Douglas'" "Oh! That's it!" said Holmes thoughtfully. "Well, I'm sure that it was carefully arranged and directed by someone behind the scenes." "You mean, you don't think it was an accident?" "There are no such accidents in the world." "Was he murdered?" "Of course!"

"I think so too. These filthy diehards, this bloody bunch of revanchist criminals . . . " "No, no, my good sir," said Holmes, "here is another mastermind. This is not a case of a stubbed shotgun and a clumsy six-ring revolver. You may say that it is an old adversary." Yes. But I say it's Moriarty's way. The crime was directed from London, not America." "But what was his motive?" "Because the person who does this kind of murder is a person who is not willing to fail. What makes this person completely different is that everything he does must achieve the goal. Such a talented person and a huge organization do it. To destroy a human being is like smashing a walnut with a hammer, which seems absurd to use too much force, but of course the walnut is smashed easily."

"What does this man have to do with this matter?" "I can only tell you that we know these things, or that one of Moriarty's assistants leaked the information. These Americans have been carefully considered. Like other foreign criminals, if they want to commit crimes in England, they are naturally related to this crime." The great masters of the country were partnered. From that moment on, the fate of their key man was sealed. At first Moriarty sent his men to find the man to murder, and then gave instructions on how to deal with the matter. As a result, when he saw After the report of Baldwin's failed assassination attempt, he took it upon himself. You heard me warn my friends at Birlstone Manor that the dangers ahead are far greater than those of the past. Am I right?"

Buck clenched his fists angrily and slapped himself on the head, saying, "Are you saying that we can only be at their mercy? Are you saying that no one can defeat this devil?" "No, I didn't say that," said Holmes, whose eyes seemed to be looking far into the future. "I didn't say he was invincible. But you must give me time—you must give me time!" For a moment we were all silent, while Holmes's bright, predictive eyes seemed to desire to pierce the clouds.