Investigation on the Word 'Blood' (3)

In just a few minutes, he found a clue that the security team had not found all day. Although there were specializations in the field, this detective was too efficient.

"Perhaps what the Commissioner of the London police station said is true. He's the only one who would be able to solve this case in 24 hours." Catherine thought reluctantly, but she did not say it. Instead, she questioned matter-of-factly, "YES? What does this mean?"

"I don't know." Sherlock stood up. "But I can sense that this word has a profound meaning to the killer. Another thing is…" He paused and slowly walked to the other side of the body, putting his face between the legs of the body…

To be honest, this posture looked a little lewd. Fortunately, Deacon Baldell did not interrupt him this time.

"Why is the uterus intact when all the internal organs are cut up?"

"Perhaps this is the killer's habit," Catherine said calmly.

"No." Sherlock denied it without thinking and said, "The murderer is a serial killer. He killed more than ten women downtown. It's rare to see such skilled knife work. Previously, all the internal organs of the victims were dug out, including the uterus. This time, the killer deliberately kept it, but cut the rest of the internal organs into four parts…"

Also, this killer did not usually take away the victim's clothes.

"Tsk tsk… Why did he change his habit when dealing with this lady?"

He muttered to himself.

Seeing his expression of increased interest, Catherine quickly raised a question that everyone present had. "You… seem to be very familiar with this killer?"

"This is because I had paid attention to him," Sherlock said matter-of-factly. "That's what I do. I know a little about all the murderers on the wanted list. If I had followed the normal procedure, I would have to start working on his case four months later."

"…" Although this answer made sense, it still made Miss Catherine pause for two seconds.

"Alright… Then what are you going to do next?"

Sherlock stuffed his hands into the pockets of his trench coat.

"The killer is obsessed with [4]."

"He unusually preserved the uterus."

"He took away the clothes."

"He carved the word [YES] on the internal organs"

He began to move slowly on the spot. As he walked, he muttered softly.

After a long while.

He suddenly reached out and rubbed his shoulders and neck. "For the next step, the best option is to let me go home and get some sleep."

"…??"

The surrounding people were stunned for a moment.

Even the elderly priest who had been snoring softly in the distance opened his eyes slightly.

"Go back… to sleep?" Deacon Baldell's tone finally fluctuated a little.

The commoners were of the fixed impression that the deacons of the judicial department were generally emotionless law enforcement machines. Bloody-cleansing and cruel torture were synonymous with them.

They were allowed to marry, although it was most likely a way to continue their good bloodline. Even so, Sherlock could not possibly disregard the identity of the murder victim.

Baldell, this Deacon, undoubtedly had feelings for his wife. It did not matter whether this feeling was a possessive desire for his own private property or something else.

In any case, that person's wife had been chopped up and thrown all over the place. How could he say that he wanted to go home and sleep at this time?!

"Watch your words. You're disrespecting the clergy of the Vatican!"

The young sheriff at the entrance of the alley growled almost immediately.

There was no way around it. That was his duty; a loyal hound good at being angry, eager to show his devout faith, or cannon fodder.

However, without his superior's orders, he could only stay at the entrance of the alley and be angry. He did not dare to step into the alley.

Sherlock bowed slightly and said, "I'm sorry, Deacon. I didn't mean to offend you and your wife. It's because there's really no need for me to stay here."

"What do you mean?" Compared to the taciturn Deacon Baldell, Catherine was undoubtedly easier to communicate with.

"Because I've already seen the scene… Staying here any longer would be a waste of time. Hence, I might as well return to my familiar apartment, where I can be comfortably alone for a while? This will help me think." Sherlock tapped his head with his index finger.

Catherine's brows were still furrowed. She did understand that a comfortable environment was conducive for thinking, but…

"Have you seen everything at the scene?"

"Of course," Sherlock said. "I'm quite good at surveying the scene. I've observed every detail here. Uh… For example, I can roughly guess that the murderer is about 1.90 meters tall. He's a male with a burly body and a good family background. He's dominant on both hands, and he has a strong sexual desire. When he lived in Rochester as a child, he suffered many unfair treatments or tortures. He has a serious desire for revenge. He's usually strict with himself, but he's conceited. He enjoys killing and likes to eat raw beef. His residence is huge. It might be a manor. There are many portraits hanging in the residence. The decorations are exquisite. He has a hobby of rearing livestock. He doesn't have much body hair and likes to wear cotton clothes. There are old injuries on his right ribs…"

He spoke faster and faster until the sheriff's suppressed growl came as expected. "Commoner! You… you can't talk nonsense in front of the clergy! You're devoid of piety!"

No one put a stop to the sheriff's anger, because whether it was Catherine, Baldell, or the old priest, they all felt that… this detective was making a fool of himself.

If he could identify the killer's physical characteristics, and personality through the knife wounds, the dismemberment method, the angle at which the blood splattered, and so on, it might be plausible.

However, he could even deduce what the killer liked to eat, what kind of a house he lived in, what he wore, and even deduced his old injuries. No matter how he thought about it, something was wrong.

Besides,he had only stood in this place for half an hour.

Sherlock smiled. He was too lazy to explain, but it seemed that if he did not explain, he would not be able to leave this place.