Commissioner Lestrade did not like Sherlock.
Apart from the two points mentioned above, there was also the third, fourth, and many other points.
Even if this detective had caught the rapist and murderer of the Commissioner's daughter and skinned him alive in front of him… he still hated Sherlock.
This was because he could clearly feel that this guy was not arresting criminals for the sake of justice. He was not even in it for the money… Because he habitually made those criminals look indescribable every time. Although criminals had no human rights, he could not let them die in prison, let alone let them appear on the execution ground in a pathetic state that was enough to 'disturb the hearts of the people'.
It cost a lot of money to deal with such matters, so the bounty he received each time was very little.
However!
He was still happy to continue doing this… Commissioner Lestrade seriously suspected that he caught criminals to vent himself, relieve boredom, or for some other unseemly reason.
"If it weren't for the fact that my daughter's soul might be a little grateful to you, I would have long listed you as the most vicious criminal of all time!" The Commissioner scolded, suppressing his anger.
Sherlock smiled nonchalantly. "Come on, I've helped you deal with many troublesome criminals over the years. You know very well that you can't put me in the ranks of criminals. I've never violated the laws of the empire… At least, you haven't caught any evidence…"
Lestrade held back his anger!
Indeed, there was no evidence to prove that Sherlock had committed a crime… But he knew that Sherlock was definitely the most terrifying and evil criminal. What he did was definitely more deranged than all the death row inmates held in the underground prison combined.
However, no one knew what he wanted to do.
No one knew where he came from, how old he was, or his past. They did not even know if the name [Sherlock Holmes] was real.
All anyone knew was that he claimed to be a detective and lived in a small rented house on Baker Street.
Every once in a while, he would appear at the police station with a large suitcase soaked in blood. Then, he would use the suitcase to exchange for some bounty for a criminal who had been unlucky for eight lifetimes.
That was all.
And if you asked him what he usually did in his spare time, or his ideals, goals, and why he wanted to be a detective, he would only spread his hands in a matter-of-fact manner and answer with a smile,
"Life is too boring. I just don't want my brain to rust, and also have some fun…"
…
A few minutes passed just like that. Lestrade did not ask any more questions. Anyway, the bastard in front of him would not say much until that stick of Blues cigarette burned out bit by bit.
Tap! Tap! Tap!
In the corridor outside the lounge, a series of footsteps could be heard suddenly, approaching from afar.
Chief Lestrade and Sherlock looked over at the same time… Immediately after, a tall nun and a thin, stooped old man appeared at the door of the reception room.
It was Miss Catherine and the High Priest.
Lestrade immediately stood up and bowed respectfully.
Sherlock… was still sitting.
This was not because he wanted to show a cold and disrespectful attitude before the clergy of the Vatican, but because his gaze fell on the nun's modified figure-hugging habit in disbelief!
And finally, there was a rare display of… a hint of awkwardness and consternation.
"Let's go, Mr. Holmes." Catherine raised her head slightly and looked at him. "Time waits for no man."
…
…
The setting sun passed through the gaps in the windows of the carriage. The dust in the air was like strange tiny creatures, making people subconsciously hold their breaths.
Sherlock sat in the carriage, with a thick wool blanket under his butt and feet.
He had never thought that he would be able to hitch a ride on the Vatican's carriage in such a way. He had also never thought that the nun he had met previously would have such a high status.
Looking out of the windows, the noisy square was still crowded. This was the downtown area, and as far as the eye could see, most of them were porters carrying wooden boxes on their backs, as well as barefooted paperboys shouting loudly. There were a few women dressed in revealing clothes in the alley by the tavern. Their business this month might not be very good, otherwise they would not have come out to solicit customers at this time.
The axles of the carriage were loaded with shock-absorbing technology, and it did not feel bumpy at all. Along the way, they passed through several city checkpoints and huge gear elevator doors. The noise gradually faded away, and the convoy came to the uptown area.
The street became wide and flat, and the buildings on both sides appeared solemn and orderly. Some delicate metal pipes clung to the walls, like carefully trimmed ivy, shining in the weak sunset.
After about half an hour, the carriage came to a halt when the sun finally hid itself completely and the gas lamps came on.
Sherlock got out of the carriage, feeling sleepy. The wind was cold at night, and there was a clean street in front of him. Perhaps it was because it had been cordoned off, there were no pedestrians around. Only the security guards in steam armor were patrolling. The heavy steel collided with the bluestone road, covering the sound of high-pressure steam spewing out from time to time.
"Sir!"
Seeing the carriage, a sheriff quickly rushed over. He clenched his mechanical arm into a fist on his left chest and half-knelt in front of Catherine.
This was the inherent etiquette of subordinates in the church towards their superiors. However, the steam armor was too thick. Even though he was half-kneeling, he was still much taller than Catherine.
"Honorable High Priest."
He bowed respectfully to the thin old man who had just gotten out of the carriage. However, at this moment, his gaze unintentionally crossed over the old priest's shoulder and caught a glimpse of Sherlock behind him.
The gas lamp above his head happened to elongate his shadow. At that moment, Sherlock… took out a cigarette and lit it.
The sheriff's eyes were about to pop out!
Even though the officer was right in front of him, he could not help but shout,
"You're not allowed to smoke here!"