"Are you willing to tell me about your wife?" Sherlock asked.
"Yes." Baldell did not even give him a chance to prepare. He said directly, "Karine is 35 years old this year. Her social circle is very narrow. She has a quiet personality and likes warm colors. She goes to an art exhibition almost every week. As far as I know, she has no enemies or debts…"
He told her everything about his wife in a flat tone. There was not much pause in between. It was obvious that he had repeated these things in his heart many times.
"Then do you know why did she appear near that alley that day?"
"I don't know."
"Then do you have any guesses about the word [YES]?"
"No."
"Do you know what your wife was wearing that day?"
"I don't know. I don't pay attention to her clothes."
Baldell answered the next few questions calmly. Although most of them were 'I don't know', it gave Sherlock some understanding of the deceased.
Hence, he began to think.
The room fell into a short silence…
A few minutes later,
"Mr. Sherlock, I shouldn't disrupt your work, but… I want to hear your analysis of the case."
Baldell broke the silence. His tone was still emotionless, and he even sounded quite polite.
Sherlock knew that he had to explain.
It was already four in the morning.
Daytime in London was always short, and before the next sunset, he had to find the killer… This was not just the fury of a clergyman over the death of his wife, but it also concerned the reputation of the Church. That was a murderer who had killed the family member of a clergyman. For a person of such grave sin to survive under the Holy Light, every second he lived was a blasphemy to the Church.
As the only detective in charge of this case, he was just sleeping at home… He had to give some convincing explanation, right?
"Alright, actually… there's some progress on the case." Sherlock leaned forward slightly and said, "I've thought of many possibilities as to why the killer took the victim's clothes. The most probable is that… the clothes will expose the killer's identity…
There was also that word written on the internal organs. I rummaged through my brain, and it seemed to me that the word [YES] was given extraordinary meaning only in an oath or in a wedding.
However, due to the recordable nature of 'oaths', the word YES definitely could not carry much meaning.
So I'm more inclined to the latter, which is a wedding."
"Wedding?"
"That's right." Sherlock nodded and said, "As long as the word 'YES' appears at a wedding, its meaning doesn't need any annotations."
As he spoke, he made a gesture of holding the vows in his hand, and lowered his voice to imitate an old priest's low voice.
"Beautiful bride, you are about to marry this man!
Will you love him forever from this day forth, in good times and bad, in riches and poverty, in health and sickness, in joy and in sorrow?
Would you cherish him, honor him, trust him, care for him, and be faithful to him?
At this time, the bride would utter only one word."
…
Deacon Baldell was silent. He lowered his eyes as if he was considering the validity of the deduction.
After a long while, he finally muttered softly, "Yeah, at that time… she clearly said [YES]."
This was the first time since he entered the house that his emotions had changed visibly.
At the same time, there was a 'poof' sound!
Sherlock was familiar with the sound. It was the sound of bones and muscles breaking and rubbing against each other. He lowered his head and looked at the arm that had sunk into his chest. Blood was flowing from the wound.
"You can think of all this just by relying on a corpse… You're indeed an astonishing detective.
"So I thought about it just now."
"It's better if you die…"
…
Everything happened too suddenly!
Deacon Baldell's movements were also too fast, completely exceeding a mortal's ability to visually capture them.
So, by the time that blood gushed out of the gaping hole in his chest, Sherlock still maintained his previous expression. When the second hand on the wall took a step forward, he frowned in pain.
The gas lamp above his head swayed slightly, and everything in the room was illuminated in a disorienting way.
Baldell placed his other hand on Sherlock's shoulder emotionlessly. He pushed Sherlock gently, and Sherlock fell backward due to gravity. Baldell withdrew his bloody hand from Sherlock's chest.
At this moment, the second hand on the wall finally took another step forward.
Only two seconds…
A fresh life was lost in the hands of this deacon of the judicial department, without the slightest struggle or resistance.
The gap between a covenant person and a mortal… was not so easy to surpass.
Actually, if it were those ordinary covenant people, it was still alright. At the very least, the gap between them and mortals was not that great. If a volley of bullets were to hit them, they would still die.
However, a covenant person who had evolved to the second stage was a completely different concept.
Any one of them could easily slaughter hundreds of mortals. When they wanted to kill you, your life would instantly turn into a trembling candle in the sea breeze. A huge wave would surge towards you, and you would not even know how to pray.
What was even more helpless was that most of the covenant people who reached the second stage were clergymen under the Vatican.
This resulted in your death being a mere death, helpless and useless, just like Sherlock at this moment. Someone might investigate his death and seek justice for him. However, when the clues lead to the Church, everything would become absurd.
Even if there was a slim possibility that he had really been killed by a deacon of the judicial department, so what… The judicial department would never be involved in murder, only judgment!
It would still be the case even if it was obvious that he had been killed to silence him.
"Bang!" A muffled sound.
The body fell to the ground. Large amounts of blood gushed out of the ruptured heart and poured out from the huge hole in the chest.
Deacon Baldell rubbed his hand on the blood-red notice in front of his robe and turned around. He did not look at the corpse again, nor did he feel panic or excitement after killing. Killing was a part of life for a judicial deacon.
At this point, he could not even be bothered to recall the name of this detective… He only picked up one of the corpse's legs, as if he was dragging a broken cloth bag, and got ready to leave.
Later, this corpse would sink to the bottom of the Thames.
In this way, there would be no evidence.
In fact, he did not want to go through so much trouble… It was only the death of his wife. Even if this detective from downtown could really point out that he was the killer, so what? The Vatican would definitely not punish a deacon of the judicial department for a mortal woman.
Moreover, this woman belonged to this deacon…
However, the annoying thing was that this woman's father was also a clergyman of the Vatican.
From a bloodline point of view, this was an internal strife within the Vatican… It was absolutely unforgivable!
Alright, since this detective was already dead, everything was over.
Deacon Baldell dragged the corpse to the door and was about to leave…
The moment he placed his hand on the doorknob.
"As expected, it's the wedding vow."
The detective's voice once again came from his side…