"Or he could just be a burglar breaking in," Russell said.
"Depends which version you feel like believing."
"Where was he hiding?" Charlotte didn't bother with Russell's jokes.
"In Mrs. Joy's flat next door—living like a parasite," Russell replied. "Then he used the mechanism inside to sneak into Ms. David's place."
Russell explained his discovery.
Charlotte raised an eyebrow, then got up and went into the bedroom.
The moment she stepped inside, her eyes were drawn to the bookcase. It had been pushed to the right, creating a gap wide enough for a person to pass through.
Through that gap, you could go straight into Mrs. Joy's bedroom.
And the middle section inside the wall—was just large enough to fit a person.
No wonder she'd ruled this spot out at the start. From the beginning, that section had been hidden behind the bookcase.
Charlotte left the bedroom and returned to the sitting room.
She glanced at Russell, who was still pinning Lucas down, and suddenly looked a little curious.
"Wouldn't have guessed. You're actually pretty handy."
"I'll take that as a compliment," Russell said.
Charlotte's gaze drifted to the telephone in the corner.
As expected—the phone line had been cut.
She inspected the severed cable for a moment, then let it drop.
Just then, a startled voice rose from the doorway.
"My God—what are you doing?!"
Both of them turned at the same time.
The hall outside was already packed with people.
Charlotte's flying kick had very nearly knocked the whole building off its hinges.
[The neighbors watching are frightened and confused by your violence. Malice +40]
"Uh… I'd love to explain how we got here," Russell said, ignoring the system prompt and smiling at the elderly onlookers, "but before that—could someone call the police for me?"
·
·
Five minutes later, a Scotland Yard carriage arrived downstairs.
Inspector Lestrade stepped into the flat. His first reaction was to stare at the mangled door.
"Nice kick," he said flatly, then shifted his eyes to Russell, Charlotte, and Lucas.
Lucas was bound hand and foot, head hanging low, silent.
"So…" Lestrade fished out a cigarette from his pocket—then, under the stares of the old neighbors, quietly put it away again.
"Who's going to explain what the hell is going on?"
"Do you remember a woman named Holly David?" Charlotte asked.
"Holly David…" Lestrade mulled it over, then nodded. "Right. The woman who said she was being haunted—wait, this is her place, isn't it?"
He looked around, and realization hit his face.
"What are you two doing here?"
"We caught the 'ghost'," Russell said, nodding toward Lucas.
"Illegal entry. Hiding in Mrs. Joy's flat next door. Stealing the old lady's biscuits and milk. Then sneaking into Ms. David's place whenever she's out, to do some disgusting creepy things."
Lestrade's expression became… complicated.
What even was this case?
"You're saying he got into Ms. David's flat while she was out… but how?" Lestrade asked.
"Go look in the bedroom," Charlotte said, not bothering to explain.
Lestrade walked in, bewildered.
A moment later he came back out, face full of shock.
"My God…"
He stared at Lucas like he was trying to imagine how any human being had pulled this off.
"Inspector," Russell added, "just to be clear—the mechanism was there long before him. He didn't build it."
"He only happened to find it and exploit it."
"How do you know what I'm thinking?" Lestrade snapped, turning on Russell.
"It's written all over your face." Russell shrugged.
Lestrade reflexively touched his own face—then realized what he'd done, coughed twice, and looked vaguely embarrassed.
"Ahem. Fine. From here, it's ours." He motioned to his men.
"Take him."
Two officers stepped forward and hauled Lucas up. He offered no resistance.
As they passed Russell, Lucas suddenly stopped.
"I just… I just loved her…" he murmured, like one last desperate attempt at justification.
"Save it for the judge," Russell said, uninterested. "Or say it to Holly David herself."
"See if she buys it."
The last light in Lucas' hollow eyes went out.
He stopped arguing. Stopped struggling. Like a puppet with its strings cut, he let the officers drag him away.
[Lucas falls into deep self-doubt. Malice +60]
After Lucas was taken, the building manager pulled Lestrade aside and spoke to him quietly.
When Lestrade returned, there was a weary look on his face.
"So… this—what are you planning to do about it?" he asked, gesturing toward the wrecked door and, more generally, the mess.
"Deduct it from my consulting fee," Charlotte said evenly, hands in her coat pockets as she turned to leave. "No need to be polite about it."
Russell blinked, looked at Lestrade—saw no reaction—then hurried after her.
"There's a consulting fee?" he asked, fascinated.
"What else?" Charlotte shrugged. "Mycroft isn't exactly sending me an allowance."
They took a carriage back to Baker Street.
"Russell, why are you home so early today?" Mrs. Hudson asked, surprised when she saw him.
"Today… today I didn't have much class," Russell lied casually, following Charlotte upstairs into the room.
Charlotte sat on the sofa. "How did you and Mary Morstan even end up thinking about mechanisms like that?"
"Honestly, it was kind of an accident." Russell dragged over a chair and sat.
"We were talking about it, and Professor Fields noticed. Mary panicked and dressed it up as an academic discussion."
"And then?" Charlotte prompted.
"Then Professor Fields got interested and started analyzing it. Mary and I leaned into it, added a few conditions, and we got our answer." Russell shrugged.
"And thanks to that, my final project is decided. If you've got a conscience, you should at least write me a thesis proposal."
Charlotte's face didn't change. "I'll write it—if you dare submit it."
"Or are you expecting me to stand in for you at the defense, too?"
"…Yeah, never mind." Russell shrugged again.
Then he remembered something, and asked curiously, "By the way—why did you kick the door in and pull a gun? You scared the hell out of me."
"..."
Charlotte didn't answer. She only took a sip of her cold coffee.
The porcelain cup hid her expression, leaving Russell unable to read her reaction.
The room stayed silent for a long while.
Then, finally, her voice came—soft, low, and fast.
"I just didn't want to have to find another assistant."
....
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