Indledning
One cold and dismal morning a desperate and grief -stricken woman showed up in Holmes ́ apartment: “My beloved husband has gone missing”, she sobbed, “and I fear that it may have been my fault”.
“Come on now, my dear”, Holmes said. “No need at all to get worked up like that. Start by giving me as many details as you possibly can...” this is after all the third kidnapping this week Holmes said to himself.
Optimer dit sprog - Læs vores guide og scor topkarakter
Uddrag
“I myself found a letter hidden under my child’s bed!” Holmes gasped with a splendid look in his eyes and held the letter upon the light and studied both the exterior and the flap very scrupulous till he noticed what looked like insignificant little drops of blood.
“Useless! To dry to parse” Holmes whispered to himself but only a few seconds later Holmes perceived himself of what looked like a print of a dab.
“He was speaking to himself more than to me, so I shouted out of pure frustration - WHO TOOK MY HUSBAND?” Holmes awakened from his mentation and said “do you by any chance suffer from dissociative identity disorder?”
“How dare you ask such thing! The women said to Holmes looking with the eyes of a vulture.
How could you know? Your sudden mood change gave it up plus the white powder covering your fingertips suggested that you are quite the drug addict which would result in these mood swings of yours”
The woman slapped Holmes with her right palm. He stood there for a second and wondered... “anyway. Would you excuse me young lady? I have a matter I need to attend to” thus he exited through the window down the fire escape leaving the woman bewildered.
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