A volley of questions instantly surrounded Arthur Conan Doyle.
"Sir! Do you live at 21B Baker Street?"
"What is your relationship with Sherlock Holmes?"
"Are you Dr. John H. Watson?"
"Are the stories in the novel real?"
Conan Doyle had never seen such a scene before; he was flustered and flushed with embarrassment.
He instinctively wanted to deny, to break free, but under immense pressure, he stammered in an attempt to clarify:
"No... it's not like that... you've misunderstood..."
"I'm just... just a doctor still studying at Edinburgh University..."
"I came to London to... to do research..."
As he spoke, he struggled to free himself from the entanglement and slipped into 21B Baker Street again.
But it didn't matter.
His panic and the phrase "a doctor still studying at Edinburgh University" sounded to the reporters like perfect evidence!
"Look! He admitted it!"
"Edinburgh University! Doctor! He is Watson!"
"Dr. Watson, is Mr. Holmes home?"
"What are his thoughts on the recent case?"
"Dr. Watson, please tell us about your experience working with Mr. Holmes!"
Conan Doyle's explanations were completely ineffective.
His image and words were quickly processed by reporters, becoming the explosive news of "Dr. Watson Makes Low-Key Appearance, Confirms Living with Holmes," making headlines in several evening newspapers that night.
Even his momentary panic was interpreted as evidence of "Dr. Watson's humble and gentle nature, unaccustomed to facing the public."
If "Watson" was confirmed to be real, could the miraculous "Holmes" he wrote about still be merely fictional?
For a time, the entire city of London was plunged into a fervent atmosphere, blurring the lines between reality and illusion.
People could no longer distinguish between literature and reality: what we were reading, was it a novel, or a embellished factual report about a truly existing genius detective?
Or rather, they were willing to believe that this detective, representing reason and wisdom, truly lived among them.
And just as this indistinguishable craze reached its peak, another even more sensational "discovery" completely ignited the situation.
A tabloid reporter named Jackson received a mysterious tip that the case in "A Study in Scarlet" was real, and it happened right in the Brixton area!
So, eager to break a big story, he began to wander around Brixton.
By a strange coincidence, he found a secluded street, Somerley Lane.
Jackson was astonished to discover that an empty house, similar to "Number 3, Lauriston Gardens" described in the novel as the crime scene, actually existed!
What chilled him even more was that through the grimy windowpanes, he vaguely saw some dark red, scrawled marks on the inner wall...
Jackson's heart pounded, and a daring thought seized him.
He managed to pry open the back door lock and sneaked into the house. When his eyes adjusted to the dim interior, the scene before him nearly suffocated him—
The arrangement of the room, the color of the carpet, the placement of the furniture, and especially that enormous word—RACHE—written on the wall in dark red paint, as if still dripping...
Everything was astonishingly similar to the descriptions in "A Study in Scarlet"!
How could this be a novel?
This was clearly a real crime scene, not yet known to the public!
Lionel Sorell didn't fabricate a story; he was subtly documenting a real, extraordinary case that Scotland Yard might have covered up or been unable to solve!
And Sherlock Holmes was the hero who solved this extraordinary case!
Jackson scrambled out of the house and immediately rushed to the newspaper office.
He knew he had unearthed the most earth-shattering news of the summer!
————
The newspaper Jackson worked for, "The Curious Gazette," was known for rumor-mongering and exaggeration, specializing in urban legends and gossip.
On July 27th, this newspaper dedicated its entire front page to Jackson's astonishing discovery:
[...After much hardship, our reporter finally discovered a scene in a remote area of Brixton that strikingly matched the novel's description!
On the inner wall of the house, there was a huge, glaring red word—RACHE!
Its form, position, and even the layout of the room were all identical to what was described in the novel!
This is irrefutable proof, absolutely no coincidence!
...
How pale and powerless Scotland Yard's recent denial statement appears in the face of such irrefutable evidence!
This house is both a silent accusation and a monument to genius!
The truth has surfaced! For more details, please continue to follow our subsequent reports!]
This report instantly caused an uproar throughout London.
Although "The Curious Gazette" usually had a poor reputation, this report was conclusive, even specifying the empty house was in Brixton.
Driven by curiosity, more readers and reporters, along with pure onlookers, flocked like a tide to the poverty-stricken streets of Brixton.
In just half a day, with the help of numerous "coincidences," people found the solitary house at the end of Somerley Lane.
But soon, they discovered that the front and back doors of the house were securely locked with new padlocks, and the windows had been barred.
Apparently, after the report was published, someone quickly took measures to prevent busybodies from continuing to peek into the house.
However, this could not stop the fervent crowd.
People crowded under the windows, stood on tiptoes, shielding the light with their hands, trying to peer into the dim interior.
Although the view was blurry, the giant, dark red letters "RACHE" smeared on the wall were as clear as a brand!
That eerie color, those "teardrops" flowing downwards, were identical to the descriptions in the novel!
"It's true! My God, there are words on the wall!"
"Look! That's the blood writing! Exactly as described in the book!"
"Someone must have died in this house! This is where Holmes solved the case!"
Exclamations and discussions rose one after another.
The crowds originally gathered at 21B Baker Street, hoping to catch a glimpse of Holmes, almost completely shifted their ground overnight.
The desolate Somerley Lane instantly became London's most bustling "tourist attraction."
Vendors flocked to the scene, selling cheap sandwiches and hot coffee.
Others began selling crudely made "Holmes Detective Kits," including a toy magnifying glass and a wooden pipe.
Even street performers came here, playing accordions and singing improvised ballads about the "Brixton Blood-Word Mystery."
The air was filled with an absurd and festive atmosphere.
Reporters from major newspapers naturally wouldn't miss out on this excellent news material.
Despite being unable to enter the house, they fully used their imagination, making a big deal out of the blurry scene inside the windows.
The detailed address was repeatedly mentioned, the exterior of the house was meticulously described, and the "blood word" was given various terrifying interpretations.
Even the usually serious "The Times" had to publish a short commentary on an inside page, mentioning:
[A certain empty house in London has caused public gatherings due to its similarity with a popular novel's plot, which may disrupt public order.]
Every word conveyed helplessness and concern.
But this could not stop the complete madness of public opinion.
If the previous debate about Holmes's reality was still at the speculative stage, this empty house with the eerie "blood word" provided irrefutable physical evidence.
And the Metropolitan Police, affectionately known as "Scotland Yard," could no longer sit idly by!
(End of Chapter)