Summer in Médan always carried a hint of languor.
London or Paris were already stiflingly hot and foul-smelling, but here, tall trees cast deep shade, and a gentle breeze blew from the river, making everything feel so fresh.
In the afternoon, the spacious living room of the Médan villa buzzed with an atmosphere quite different from the tranquility outside the window.
Guy de Maupassant, Joris-Karl Huysmans, Paul Alexis... and of course, the host Émile Zola, were circulating the complete manuscript of A Study in Scarlet.
Lionel, meanwhile, was flipping through a stack of newspaper clippings sent from England, all reporting on the fervent reception of the novel in London.
What surprised Lionel most was the unexpected involvement of Scotland Yard.
Although this made public opinion diverge somewhat from his original plan, the effect was surprisingly good.
Maupassant was the first to finish the novel.
He sprang from the armchair, his face flushed:
"My God! Lion! What a story you've written!
I confess, when I first heard you were writing a 'detective novel,' I wanted to pull your ears!
I thought it was just a 'game piece' for you to relax and perhaps pick up a few gold coins from John Bull's pocket!"
He strode over to Lionel:
"But now! After reading this! I must apologize to you! How could this be a mere game piece?
Suspense is layered upon layer, like peeling an onion, making readers weep, yet unable to put it down!
More importantly, your observation of London society, of those citizens, police officers, and cab drivers, is appallingly meticulous!
This simply couldn't have been written in isolation!"
Lionel smiled modestly, handing him a glass of chilled wine:
"Guy, calm down. Ultimately, it's just a story, meant for entertainment."
Huysmans also finished reading.
He handed the manuscript to the next person:
"Entertainment? Lion, you are too modest.
If this is merely 'entertainment,' then most novelists in the world are writing waste paper!
Holmes's first appearance, the process of his deductions based on observing Watson's hand and pocket watch...
This is not a deliberately arranged 'coincidence' or 'divine revelation,' but a science!
Ah, right, you call it 'deductive reasoning'!"
Paul Alexis and Henry Céard also nodded in agreement.
Listening to his friends' praise, Lionel was filled with emotion.
He recalled the initial conception of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.
He knew clearly that Conan Doyle's original A Study in Scarlet, though it pioneered an era, had many flaws and was not mature enough.
Lionel's thoughts drifted back to his study in Paris, where, under the gaslight, he had re-invented the various "rules of reasoning" he had learned in later generations, applying them to Conan Doyle's original work.
Conan Doyle's initial concept was too disjointed in its narrative structure.
An entire "Mormon past," like a giant boulder, was thrown into the middle of the London case, abruptly interrupting the pace of the deduction.
Readers were like being led up a ladder, only for the ladder to suddenly be removed, dropping them into a completely unfamiliar story.
He could only try his best to adjust the structure, using an interwoven narrative, telling the story like weaving brocade.
Let the ring, the strange powder, the cab driver's clue found during the London investigation, like scattered pearls, each one lead to the past in America.
Two lines ran parallel: one, the visible line of Scotland Yard and Watson; the other, the hidden line of the murderer Hope's revenge, finally converging under Holmes's deduction...
In this way, the "Mormon past" background became the driving force for the reasoning, rather than an interrupting interlude.
Céard praised the realism of the on-site details in the novel.
Although Lionel nodded his thanks, his mind recalled another key issue he had to resolve at the time—
—Fairness!
The clues in the original were too unfair.
The motive and the killer's background were completely hidden from London's view; readers had no chance to participate in the reasoning.
This violated the most fascinating "fair play" principle of detective novels in later generations.
Lionel also made improvements in this new version.
First, he buried more "visible" clues at the scene.
The word "RACHE" was not merely a misdirection by the killer, but also hinted at underlying vengeful emotions.
The killer's forgotten traces, whether the special mud on the carriage wheels or the wear on the boots... allowed readers to vaguely perceive them too.
He wanted readers to feel that if they were careful enough, they too could reach the same conclusions as Holmes, rather than just passively listening to a "myth."
Even Holmes's reasoning itself, in many cases in the original, felt like magic, directly presenting conclusions without showing the process.
Lionel, however, wanted every step of his thought process to be clearly visible.
From linguistic analysis beginning with the bloodstain, to the poison puzzle, then to the pattern of serial killings, finally identifying the cab driver and setting a trap...
Each step was a small, independently analyzable puzzle.
Even when Holmes pointed out the killer's height and profession at the scene, it was through specific descriptions of footstep depth and rope friction marks, allowing readers to "see" what he saw, rather than just hearing his assertions...
Émile Zola had been listening quietly to everyone's discussion.
Suddenly, he spoke slowly, interrupting Lionel's thoughts:
"Lion, what interests me most is 'deductive reasoning'."
He straightened up, his eyes alight:
"This is a method brimming with scientific, rational, and empirical spirit! Observation, hypothesis, verification, elimination..."
As Zola spoke, he picked up the manuscript from the table:
"You see, although the story has elements of the sensational—bizarre deaths, mysterious religious backgrounds...
Holmes's reasoning does not rely on supernatural powers or romantic inspiration, but is based on meticulous observation of the material world and rigorous logic.
He analyzes every detail of the crime scene—the composition of the soil, the shape of the ash, the characteristics of the handwriting—like a scientist analyzing experimental data...
These details are products of the 'environment'; and his reasoning is the process of revealing how these details determine the actions and fate of the 'characters'."
At this point, a hint of slyness appeared on Zola's face:
"My dear Lion, though you always deny it and are reluctant to be labeled a 'naturalist'—
—but look at this detective you've created, look at the way you tell this story! Your pen is far more honest than your mouth!"
Faced with Zola's "accusation," Lionel could only remain speechless.
He tried to change the subject:
"Émile, I just think that for a detective story to be convincing, the reasoning process must stand up to scrutiny.
Holmes merely chose what he considered the most reliable method. As for naturalism... perhaps it's just a coincidence.
We all hope the world we write about is a bit more real."
Zola was about to say more, but Maupassant remembered something and interjected:
"Lion, the character of 'Sherlock Holmes' is so unique... You've made this Englishman quite intriguing—does he have a prototype?"
Lionel was delighted and quickly replied:
"Of course he does. Do you remember when I fell ill in London last year?
I met a doctor named 'Joseph Bell'..."
(End of chapter)