"Your brain is still functioning properly. Good." Charlotte said with satisfaction.
"In most cases, I'm extrely smart," Russell said proudly.
"Only when dealing with a sufficiently close and trustworthy partner is there no need to record that partner's na in the ledger. Because the string of numbers and the transaction itself already serve as the best proof of identity. And this person is most likely the one who killed him."
Russell frowned after saying that. "But why? What's the causal relationship between the two?"
"The reason is simple. All the other candidates have already been eliminated," Charlotte said. "Lestrade isn't foolish enough to ignore such a major achievent right in front of him."
"When The Tis and The Guardian exposed the people listed in the ledger, Lestrade had already led his subordinates to arrest them. Moreover, the people on the list were diverse—so could take direct action, others could not—so Mycroft also had work to do."
She explained. "Therefore, with their cooperation, we can basically screen more than half of the people on the list. They either have alibis, or their situations do not match the conditions we set earlier."
After multiple rounds of selection, the only one left was this anonymous individual.
"So," Russell continued along her line of reasoning, "only those involved in these few transactions remain at large because their identities are unknown?"
That was one way to understand it.
Charlotte nodded, stood up, walked to the information board, and transcribed the suspicious transaction records.
"Perfu, pearls, platinum, and counterfeit money…" She tapped these words lightly with the tip of her pen. "The counterfeit money here might be the only real one, but it's also possible everything is fake and rely euphemisms."
In other words, they should all point to the sa person.
"A man who knows Hannigan well, but is a wanted criminal living in the shadows, driven into a corner."
Russell frowned. "Who could it be?"
"This is the next step." Charlotte said, "We're very close to the answer."
The girl's tone was bright and cheerful. She even had the leisure to pick up the violin on the sofa and improvise.
Russell listened quietly so as not to disturb her, gently picking up his teacup.
A lodic, cheerful tune full of vitality and energy echoed through the room, like a cat chasing its shadow in the spring sunlight.
…
The next day, after preparing breakfast and the newspaper for Charlotte, Russell headed to Imperial College.
In the warm lecture hall, Mary, wearing a scarf, was sitting in her seat.
Noticing Russell, the girl turned around and smiled at him.
"Good morning."
The mont Russell saw Mary, the contents of the file he had seen yesterday flashed through his mind.
But he quickly shook his head, pushed those thoughts away, and smiled.
"Good morning," Russell said as he sat beside her. "You're wearing a scarf today?"
"Mhm." Mary nodded and buried her face in the beige cashre scarf. "When I went out this morning, the wind felt a bit colder than yesterday."
"I get that." Russell said, setting down his backpack.
"What about you?" Mary turned to him, a smile in her beautiful blue eyes. "Did you wake up early again to make breakfast?"
Her tone sounded slightly displeased.
"No way." Russell yawned. "Who said I had anything in my hands?"
"What influence?" Mary asked with great interest.
"If you expose your weakness, can it still be called a weakness?"
Russell glanced at her.
Hearing this, Mary pouted, then whispered as if she had rembered sothing.
"So if I also had leverage over you, would I get the sa treatnt as Charlotte?"
"If you think it's fun to wake a university student at 6 a.m. and drive all the way from Baker Street to Kensington just to make breakfast, feel free."
"So as long as I have sothing that puts you at a disadvantage, that's enough?"
As Mary leaned forward, the familiar scent of white tea gently brushed Russell's nose again.
"If you can actually pull it off, I have nothing to say."
"What if… what if I really had it?" Mary asked cautiously.
Russell raised one eyebrow. "Tell more?"
"I already said 'if'." Mary blinked.
aning it didn't exist.
Russell looked away.
Mary's lips curved slightly. She slowly straightened her back and returned her gaze to the poetry collection in her hands, as if that short, ambiguous probing had never happened.
The morning classes passed as usual.
At noon, in the familiar empty classroom, Mary sat across from Russell.
"I've instructed the driver to head to Fleet Street first after school today."
After explaining her itinerary, the girl asked, "What do you think about the clarification report regarding Moriarty?"
"Why ask ?"
"I think I should hear your opinion first." Mary said. "After all, in a sense, you are his spokesperson."
"In my opinion, that's sothing you should decide."
Russell took a bite of his sandwich and mumbled a reply. "You're a pro. You're much better than at handling difficult reporters and choosing your words. I'm a complete beginner, so I won't give unsolicited advice."
"Understood." Mary nodded, accepting the reasonable explanation.
After a brief pause, she seed to rember sothing and asked, "How's Charlotte? How far has her progress co?"
"Charlotte…" Russell thought for a mont. "Charlotte went to Fleet Street to get the ledger. In her own words, 'We are now just one step away from the truth.'"
"The final step?"
"Yes, she has already ruled out most of the people listed in the ledger." Russell nodded lightly. "What remains are only a very small number of highly suspicious transactions."
"What's suspicious about them?" Mary asked.
"The transaction partners in the ledger are anonymous." Russell put down his sandwich and briefly explained Charlotte's findings.
Charlotte was almost certain that all these anonymous transactions were conducted by the sa person.
"A person who knows Hannigan well, but whose identity cannot be brought into the light."
"Has Charlotte figured out who that person is?" A faint curiosity colored Mary's voice.
"You'll have to ask her," Russell shrugged. "When I left this morning, she was still researching it, but given her personality, she'll probably finish soon. She felt all the clues were hidden in the traded goods. Once the aning of the goods was deciphered, the murderer's identity would be revealed."
"Goods?" The girl blinked in confusion. "What kind of goods?"
"Beer." Russell said, "It's all because of the beer."
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