British readers once again turned the pages, hoping for more hidden content.
But the next page was already the beginning of another column.
A huge sense of loss and even stronger anticipation instantly gripped everyone once again.
"Red face? Long fingernails? How did he know?"
"My God, what else did he see that we didn't?"
"Damn 'Good Words', why can't they publish it all at once!"
"Next month! We have to wait a whole half-month! This is torture!"
Despite the complaints, the readers' enthusiasm was completely ignited.
Holmes's uncannily brilliant observational skills and his bold deduction of the murderer's characteristics at the end pushed all suspense to its peak.
Since Lionel had exposed almost all clues in his narration, it became an intellectual game that readers felt they could participate in.
Everyone repeatedly chewed over every clue Holmes pointed out—the ash, footprints, mud spatters, horseshoe—trying to piece together the deduction process themselves.
Especially the origin of the most mysterious "red face" and "long fingernails."
Public reading rooms were packed, with latecomers having to squeeze by the door and stand on tiptoes to peek inside.
Some cheered for Holmes's insight, some were frustrated that the story ended so abruptly, and some even had small shoves and arguments due to queue-jumping.
In gentlemen's clubs, the usual discussions about politics and economics were completely replaced by "A Study in Scarlet" today.
Members held their magazines, enthusiastically analyzing every clue Holmes mentioned, trying to piece together the image of the killer themselves.
Some even pulled out maps to study where in London there might be brick-red soil.
Newspapers of all sizes joined in, with journalists and columnists from all walks of life trying to be the first to "solve the mystery."
——————
This "Holmes whirlwind" sweeping across London inevitably blew into Scotland Yard.
The atmosphere here was even more oppressive than before.
Standing before Sir Charles Warren was Colonel Howard Vincent, still of the Criminal Investigation Department.
On his large mahogany desk lay a brand new copy of "Good Words" magazine.
Sir Charles Warren's finger jabbed at the magazine's cover:
"Vincent, look closely! All of London is going crazy for this fellow who is a hundred times smarter than us! And us? What has Scotland Yard's image become now? We've become mere fools, a backdrop!"
Howard Vincent tried to explain:
"Sir, this is just a novel..."
Sir Charles Warren cut him off:
"A novel? How many people in all of London still consider it merely a novel? Look at this!"
He grabbed another stack of letters from the table and threw them squarely at Vincent:
"These are all received in the last two days! Letters from citizens! And those journalists outside, like flies! All thanks to this 'novel'!"
The letters scattered across the floor like snowflakes.
Howard Vincent bent down and picked up a few; a quick glance brought cold sweat to his forehead.
The contents of these letters were bizarre, but all revolved around the latest installment of "A Study in Scarlet":
A widow formally reported her neighbor, a retired colonel from India, claiming he was "tall, frequently smoked cigars, and behaved strangely," fitting the description of the murderer provided by Holmes.
A bank clerk suspected his colleague of embezzlement, on the grounds that he found "strange red mud" on the other person's shoe soles, and that their "eyes flickered as if hiding something."
Even more outlandish was an old gentleman who wrote to demand that Scotland Yard immediately send someone to inspect a construction site near his home, because he believed the red clay there was "exactly consistent" with what was described in the novel, possibly hiding clues to a crime...
In addition to these "tip-off letters," there were also numerous letters from readers, curiously asking if Scotland Yard's detectives also possessed Holmes's superb techniques for inferring a killer's identity from ash and footprints? If not, when would they learn?
Howard Vincent felt a pang of helplessness:
"This... this is too absurd! These people... have they all gone mad?"
Sir Charles Warren roared:
"Absurd? Yes! But this is the reality you face!
Your CID was established to improve case-solving efficiency and establish a professional image for the police!
But what now? In the public's eyes, we're not even as good as a fictional detective in a novel!
We've become a backdrop to highlight his cleverness! Clowns!"
He took a deep breath, trying to calm his agitated emotions:
"Vincent, I don't care what method you use, you must quell this farce as soon as possible.
We need to prove to the public that Scotland Yard is capable of maintaining law and order in London, and doesn't need a character penned by a Frenchman telling us what to do!"
He paused, pointing at the "Good Words" magazine:
"Also, find the source of this story. What exactly does this Lionel Sorell want? Are his so-called 'deductive methods' based on anything real, or are they pure literary exaggeration to attract attention?"
Howard Vincent straightened his body:
"Yes, sir! I understand! I'll see to it immediately!"
Sir Charles Warren wearily waved his hand, dismissing him.
——————
Back in his office, Howard Vincent sank tiredly into his chair.
The faint clamor of the street market drifted through the window, seemingly all discussing that damned Sherlock Holmes.
He rubbed his temples, looked at the mountain of documents piled on his desk, and fell into thought.
Suppressing public opinion was impossible; the popularity of "Good Words" and the charm of the story had already created a trend.
Simply denying or disparaging Holmes would only make the public perceive Scotland Yard as arrogant and incompetent.
Perhaps... perhaps a more subtle approach was needed?
His gaze fell once again on the "Good Words" magazine, and he thought of the author of "A Study in Scarlet," Lionel Sorell.
A Frenchman, in Paris, yet stirring up a storm in London with his pen.
While "Good Words" magazine was "instrumental," the source was this Lionel Sorell.
Hmm, and that "Conan Doyle," judging by the name, is an Englishman, probably Sorell's assistant or something, and seems to be in London...
"Good Words" was the largest circulating literary journal in Britain, and its editor-in-chief was Dr. Norman Macleod.
This gentleman's wealth, social standing, and influence were certainly beyond his challenge.
He had sent his secretary to "Good Words" magazine several times before, hoping to meet Dr. Norman Macleod, but had been unceremoniously rejected.
The reason was simple:
"The works published in 'Good Words' do not violate the laws of the British Empire and are not subject to Scotland Yard's jurisdiction."
Howard Vincent's intuition told him that whether it was the figure on Baker Street or the empty house in Summerlee Lane, "Good Words" was behind it, but there was no evidence.
Howard Vincent murmured to himself:
"To solve a problem, one must find the person who caused it..."
He pressed the call bell and instructed the secretary who entered—no longer the loyal Edgar Avery—:
"Look into Dr. Conan Doyle... Preferably 'invite' him to Scotland Yard, politely, I want to speak with him myself!"
——————
As Scotland Yard struggled to cope with this literary storm, "A Study in Scarlet" had already begun to transcend the realm of literature.
It had become a social phenomenon, even a required course for a British gentleman!
(End of Chapter)