Conan Doyle stood up straight in his chair, his voice booming, ensuring everyone could hear:
"Furthermore, from now on, any Sherlock Holmes novel that uses relevant information will specially note at the end of the novel—
'Details here verified with the assistance of [Name]' or 'Information in this area provided by [Name]'!"
This sentence instantly ignited the entire room!
"My God! Attribution!"
"Our names... can appear after 'Sherlock Holmes'?!"
"Is... is this real?!"
Exclamations of ecstasy drowned out the corners of the room.
For these young, ambitious medical students, what could be more exciting than this?
This was not just an honor; it was the highest recognition for their efforts!
A freckle-faced student suddenly stood up, his face flushed with excitement.
He raised his wine glass high and shouted,
"For Sherlock Holmes! For Lionel Sorell! For us!"
Others also rose, raising their respective glasses, their voices converging into a torrent:
"For Sherlock Holmes!"
"For Lionel Sorell!"
"For us!"
The cheers even spilled out into the street, causing passersby to look up.
The freckle-faced student, not yet satisfied, also jumped onto a chair and announced to all his companions:
"Gentlemen! From today onwards, we are not just 'Holmes's Boys'!"
He took a deep breath and shouted with all his might:
"We are also—'Lionel's Boys'!"
"Lionel's Boys!"
"Lionel's Boys!"
Uniform, proud shouts echoed through the club, lingering long after...
——————
Scotland Yard, Director of the Criminal Investigation Department's Office.
Opposite Colonel Howard Vincent sat Lionel Sorell and Dr. Norman McLeod, editor-in-chief of Good Word magazine.
The wall clock ticked, each second feeling like it was tightening an invisible string in the room.
Howard Vincent was the first to break the silence:
"Mr. Sorell, Dr. McLeod. If you are here about the previous report regarding the piracy issue..."
"I regret to say that Scotland Yard has limited resources, and I'm afraid we cannot 'efficiently' deal with every street pamphlet as you might expect."
His tone then took on a sarcastic edge:
"Or perhaps you've come here to mock us?
To mock how slow Scotland Yard appears in comparison to your 'consulting detective'?"
Dr. Norman McLeod's plump face instantly flushed, and he seemed about to retort, but Lionel stopped him.
Lionel's face broke into a gentle smile, and he shook his head slightly:
"Of course not, Colonel Vincent.
We are here for London, for the order of this city, and for the sense of security of its citizens."
This opening statement completely caught Howard Vincent off guard.
He had expected anger, accusations, or even threats of public opinion, but he had never anticipated hearing such words.
His tense expression relaxed slightly, but he did not drop his guard, remaining silent and gesturing for Lionel to continue.
Lionel's attitude was sincere:
"Allow me to first be frank about one thing—both 21B Baker Street and the empty house on Summerly Lane were 'little tricks' I played for novel sales."
The Colonel's eyebrows rose, and his lips tightened further.
Lionel's tone was apologetic:
"I must admit, I didn't realize this would cause Scotland Yard so much trouble, and for that, I am deeply sorry!"
Colonel Howard Vincent studied the young man before him; seeing his clear, sincere gaze, his previously rigid expression finally relaxed.
"As an individual, I can accept your apology, Mr. Sorell. But even so, you didn't come here today just to apologize, did you?"
Lionel moved to the real topic:
"Of course, it's more than that. What I want to explain is that while 'Sherlock Holmes' is a fictional character—
His deductive method, his ability to interpret subtle clues, and even certain traits of his character were not conjured out of thin air by me.
They have prototypes, stemming from real people with such talents for observation and deduction."
Colonel Howard Vincent was stunned.
He had always viewed "Sherlock Holmes" as a product of literary exaggeration, never imagining there was a real basis behind it.
He subconsciously asked,
"Who is it?"
Lionel uttered a name:
"Dr. Joseph Bell."
"Joseph Bell..."
Howard Vincent frowned, then after a few seconds:
"That surgery professor from Edinburgh University? The 'Chantrelle Murder Case'?"
Lionel nodded:
"That's him. I created Sherlock Holmes under Dr. Bell's inspiration.
He demonstrated to me why the truth is hidden within details and logic."
Howard Vincent shook his head:
"I recall the Chantrelle case. Dr. Bell was able to solve it primarily because of his expertise in toxicology.
This is probably still very different from the almost omniscient and omnipotent image of Mr. Holmes in your novels."
Lionel smiled faintly:
"Colonel, you are right, but not entirely. Identifying symptoms of poisoning is merely the tip of the iceberg of Dr. Bell's abilities. His capabilities extend far beyond that."
Lionel paused, recalling his own experiences:
"I once had the privilege of witnessing Dr. Bell's abilities firsthand.
By observing a stranger's posture, clothing, and the calluses on their hands, he could deduce their profession, habits, and experiences.
He could interpret information from the most insignificant details, information that even the person themselves might overlook."
Lionel looked into Howard Vincent's eyes:
"Colonel, please imagine this:
If one day, after a crime scene, Scotland Yard detectives could all collect evidence like 'Sherlock Holmes'—
They could deduce where a suspect might be from in London based on the soil next to a footprint;
Determine where the deceased had recently been through the plant seeds attached to their clothing;
And reconstruct an intruder's method and tools from an inconspicuous scratch on a window...
By then, Colonel—everyone at Scotland Yard would be 'Sherlock Holmes'!
Solving cases would no longer solely depend on informants' tips, accidental sightings, or lengthy investigations.
Solving cases would be built upon scientific analysis of physical evidence and rigorous logical deduction!"
He paused briefly, then delivered his resonant conclusion:
"Only then can the citizens of London's sense of security cease to depend on a fictional detective.
They will know that protecting this city is a truly professional force, keenly observant and miraculously effective at solving cases!
Isn't this precisely the goal you, Colonel Howard Vincent, are striving to achieve?"
After Lionel finished speaking, he said no more, and a long silence fell over the office.
Colonel Howard Vincent was completely stunned.
The coldness and wariness on his face had now vanished, replaced by an uncontrollable stirring of excitement.
He remembered what his superior, Sir Warren, had said yesterday, as if he had seen a completely new path...
He remained silent for a full minute, then slowly raised his head:
"Mr. Sorell, where should we begin?"
(End of chapter)