Hearing Mary's question, Russell finally remembered what he'd been about to say. He cleared his throat.
"What I wanted to say is—yesterday, Charlotte and I ran into an interesting case."
"An interesting case?" The girl's pretty brows lifted as she leaned a little closer to Russell. "What kind of case could make even Charlotte think it's interesting?"
"Mm… in simple terms, there was a woman named Holly David. She said she might have run into a ghost."
Russell recounted Holly David's experience in detail. Mary listened without interrupting, the ocean-blue in her eyes flickering now and then with thought and confusion.
"Mm… an invisible ghost that secretly collects the coffee cups that woman has used, sprays the perfume she uses, reads the books she reads, even sleeps in the bed she's slept in…"
Mary pondered for a moment, her brow knitting slightly.
"Two possibilities—either Ms. Holly David has some kind of psychological illness, like dissociative identity disorder… or a full-blown perverted stalker has latched onto her."
"From your perspective, which possibility do you lean toward?" Russell asked.
"The latter," Mary replied as she jotted notes. "If it were dissociative identity disorder, there are parts of the logic that don't add up.
For example, the 'warming the bed' detail has an obvious hole.
But then again, if it really is the latter… the situation is even worse.
If I had the choice, I'd rather it be that I'm splitting personalities than be targeted by some sick stalker."
From a safety standpoint—or any standpoint—at least a fractured personality is still you. It wouldn't hurt you.
Russell nodded deeply in agreement.
"Then what happened?" Mary pressed. "Did you find Mr. Ghost?"
"Unfortunately, no." Russell shrugged. "Ms. David is staying with a friend for now."
He paused, then added:
"Charlotte and I turned the entire apartment inside out. The doors and windows were intact, locks unbroken, and there were no secret passages or ventilation ducts anyone could crawl through.
By every measure, that guy really did seem to… appear out of nowhere."
"Appear out of nowhere…" Mary murmured thoughtfully, then flipped to a fresh page in her notebook.
She drew a rectangle on the paper, then another slightly smaller rectangle beside it.
Russell glanced at it—it was a very rough floor plan.
"The apartment layout is roughly like this?" she confirmed first.
"Yeah, about that." Russell nodded.
So Mary began her analysis.
"If we rule out doors and windows, and secret passages…" Her voice was light, like she was talking to herself—or probing Russell. "Then—what about the walls?"
She asked tentatively, her pen tip hovering over the thick black lines.
"Breaking through the wall?" she suggested.
"Impossible." Russell rejected it immediately.
"The walls are brick and stone. If you wanted to break through or dismantle them, it'd be far too loud—someone would notice.
Most of the residents there are elderly, and they generally like quiet."
Mary nodded, then lightly crossed the "wall" lines with a small X.
"To be honest," she said, "when I heard your description, my first thought was that the 'ghost' might actually be living inside Ms. David's home."
"Honestly, not very realistic." Russell shook his head. "It's a studio apartment. You can't hide a person in there."
"So it's only a hypothesis." Mary spoke as her pen traced over the little two-box floor plan. "That's what deduction is, isn't it? Bold hypotheses, careful verification.
First propose a possibility, then use the information you already have to systematically negate it."
"This sounds weirdly familiar… I think Charlotte does the same thing," Russell said.
He remembered proposing the split-personality theory—only to have Charlotte dismantle it on logical grounds.
Sure enough, those two were alike in certain ways.
"Then let's do it once ourselves," Mary said softly. "This time, I'll propose the hypothesis, and you'll negate it."
She smiled faintly.
"I hypothesize that this 'ghost' never left Holly David's home from the very beginning.
Now—it's your turn to refute it."
"Mm… like I said earlier, the apartment is smaller than you'd think. You can't hide a person," Russell said.
"An adult living inside a studio apartment without leaving any trace at all…
Honestly, even if Moriarty himself came, he couldn't pull that off."
(And even if Charlotte somehow couldn't find it, I would.)
He didn't say that part out loud.
"Besides, the process of modifying furniture would be hard not to leave marks behind, wouldn't it?"
"Mm… fair point." Mary nodded, wrote down [Modified furniture], and drew a line through it.
She didn't look discouraged at all—if anything, she looked more intrigued.
Just as Mary was about to propose her second hypothesis, the old professor's voice suddenly rang out from the lectern.
Even though they'd deliberately lowered their voices and kept their movements small, that "conspicuous corner" at the back row still stood out.
"Back row, Mr. Watson."
The professor pushed up his glasses and looked at Russell with displeasure.
"Do you find my course boring?"
[Professor Fields is displeased with your inattentiveness. Malice +10]
As his words fell, the entire class turned to stare at Russell—eyes full of schadenfreude and irritation.
If you don't want to learn, fine—must you disrupt the students who do?
"Uh…" Russell rose slowly, scanning the blackboard, searching for what to say.
Just then, he felt someone poke his waist.
Turning his head, he saw Mary calmly spread her notebook open and point her pen at the diagram.
Russell's eyes lit up instantly.
"No, Professor Fields—your course is very interesting," he hurriedly said.
"I was just discussing some questions about structural mechanics with Mary."
The professor narrowed his eyes, clearly unconvinced, and shifted his gaze toward Mary.
"Is that so, Miss Morstan?"
"Yes, Professor." Mary stood and gave a small nod.
"Just now, when you were explaining stress transmission and structural utilization within closed systems, I had a small question and discussed it with Russell.
I didn't expect to disturb your lecture. I sincerely apologize."
[Mary Morstan's defense of you has triggered intense envy from other students. Malice +30]
No, I can't laugh yet…
Hearing the voice in his head, Russell fought back the twitching at the corner of his mouth and spread his hands at the professor.
Professor Fields looked genuinely surprised.
He fell silent for a moment, then cleared his throat; his tone softened.
"It's good to have questions—but try to save discussions for after class."
He paused, then continued:
"Very well, then. What is your question?"
....
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