"Mr. Jacob, how long has your conflict with the deceased lasted?"
In the dimly lit room, Holmes sat opposite the prime suspect Jacob Valentine, with a kerosene lamp on the table between them. Its flickering flame illuminated his chiseled face, while the grey of his eyes reflected a panicked figure.
"Almost... almost half a year, I guess..."
Jacob placed his hands cautiously on his knees, his eyes involuntarily glancing towards the body beside him, and said with a pale face, "I'm not the murderer... Even though I disliked Maggie Criss, I would never kill her!"
"Why?"
Chewing on his pipe, Holmes stared intently at him, "The victim was the biggest stumbling block on your path to love. By removing her, no one could stop you..."
"She was Miss Maggie's landlord!" Jacob exclaimed with a stiff neck: "In any case, she was Miss Maggie's benefactor. If it weren't for her, I would never have met Miss Maggie! Killing her would make Miss Maggie sad!"
"..."
