"...."
Russell listened in silence, offering no rebuttal.
Or rather, he couldn't find any grounds or standing to argue.
She was talking about Moriarty—what did that have to do with him?
"What is it?" Mary looked at Russell, who wore an expression like he wanted to say something but held back.
"Why'd you go quiet all of a sudden?"
"It's nothing." Russell shook his head and looked at Mary.
"I just suddenly thought... you seem to have a real talent for being a kindergarten teacher."
"Hm?" At that, Mary tilted her head, the smile in her eyes deepening.
"Are you saying I'm good at looking after children?"
"That's right," Russell nodded. "Mary's definitely going to make a wonderful mother someday."
The instant the words left Russell's mouth, the smile on the girl's face froze.
Then a flush of crimson raced up along that snow-white neck, climbing all the way up to her cheeks.
A double strike—one blow, and his name was made!
She looked at Russell, and those azure eyes, usually so composed and effortless, were now filled with a rare flustered bashfulness.
That once calm and unrippled Aegean Sea seemed to churn with raging waves.
"Wh-what nonsense are you spouting!"
The girl's voice rose a few pitches without her meaning it to, and she reflexively raised the half-eaten sandwich in her hand, trying to use it to hide her fluster and her reddened cheeks.
"Saying that sort of thing to a lady is terribly rude, you know?"
Mary muttered under her breath, grumbling.
If this were a high-society social gathering and someone had overheard, she'd be mocked for not knowing her manners and having no sense of shame.
"Sorry, sorry." Watching her flustered, at-a-loss state, the smile on Russell's face grew all the stronger.
He'd finally reclaimed some ground.
"I just said what came to mind, honestly no other meaning behind it."
"Th-that still doesn't mean you should say that kind of thing!" Mary shrank her cheeks a little deeper into her scarf, leaving only a pair of shy, indignant azure eyes exposed.
"All right, all right, I'll apologize—is that good enough?" Russell raised both hands in a gesture of surrender.
"If apologies were enough, what would we need Scotland Yard for..." the girl mumbled.
What a familiar exchange.
The thought crossed Russell's mind out of nowhere.
Was the next step for him to go cook dinner?
"Well then, there's nothing I can do about it," Russell spread his hands with feigned helplessness.
"What more does Miss Mary want? How about you call the police and have Lestrade come arrest me."
At that, Mary lifted her head and shot Russell a glare with her azure eyes.
"Hmph, arresting you would just be a waste of public resources."
The girl's voice still carried a trace of embarrassed irritation, but her tone had clearly softened.
She paused, then, rather than continuing that topic, changed the subject:
"So... about Pilsen and Emily Collins, does Charlotte have any plans?"
she asked.
"Is she going to have Scotland Yard issue a wanted notice?"
"Charlotte plans to just leave it be for now," Russell said.
"Emily Collins probably still doesn't know we've got our eye on her, so this is an opportunity.
Pilsen very likely won't show himself in public again. If he wants to do anything, buy anything, he can only have Emily Collins do it for him.
So all we have to do is find Emily Collins and pin down her whereabouts, and we can work backward to deduce where Pilsen is hiding."
"That does sound like a good line of reasoning." Mary popped the last bite of sandwich into her mouth, the flush on her face having faded considerably.
"So how does Charlotte plan to find her?" she asked. "Southwark District is enormous—tracking down a woman who's deliberately gone into hiding is no simple matter."
"Start with the cigarettes." Russell was concise.
"Cigarettes?"
"Mm." Russell nodded and repeated Charlotte's reasoning to Mary.
"Pilsen has a smoking habit—a serious one at that. He's basically at the point where he can't go a single day without a pack or he feels wretched all over.
But you know his situation. Southwark District is a chaotic mix of all sorts, and the moment he's recognized by anyone, well, you can imagine the outcome.
So it's inconvenient for him to go out himself, which naturally leaves Emily Collins to buy the cigarettes for him.
On top of that, the two of them are short on money right now, so they can only afford the penny-for-five Woodbines.
Cheap as those cigarettes are, they sell well in a place like Southwark District—but Emily Collins's own bearing and looks are striking enough to draw attention.
As long as we keep a close watch on the tobacco peddlers in those few chaotic corners of Southwark District, we're bound to turn up a lead."
"True." Mary nodded in agreement, a thoughtful light glinting in her eyes.
"That really is an effective approach..."
Something worth putting to use next time.
She paused, then, as if remembering something, lifted her head to look at Russell.
"And you?" Mary asked. "Did Charlotte assign you any task?"
"For the moment, no." Russell shook his head.
"It's a rare bit of leisure. This kind of manual labor is better left to Lestrade to handle. It's not like I'm the one getting promoted once they catch someone anyway.
Compared to finding Pilsen or Emily Collins, I think my most important task right now is to figure out how to pass my final exams and avoid flunking."
"Mm, that makes sense." Mary nodded. "That task does sound like it might be a bit harder than catching Pilsen."
Russell shrugged, not refuting it.
The lunch break passed in the blink of an eye, and when the bell rang, the two of them rose and left the secret base, heading for the lecture hall.
"Oh, right."
Mary, walking ahead, suddenly thought of something and turned back to look at Russell.
"The Times and The Guardian—which one has higher circulation?"
"That would be..." Russell rubbed his chin, putting on a look of straining to recall.
"I think The Guardian's a bit higher."
"By how much?" Mary pressed, an expectant light flickering in those azure eyes.
"A few hundred copies, I guess," Russell answered vaguely. "I didn't look at the specifics too closely—they're about the same anyway."
"A few hundred is still higher." The corners of the girl's lips curved into a smug arc.
"Looks like I won this round."
She clasped her hands behind her back and stepped along briskly, like a little peacock strutting in triumph.
Watching her sprightly retreating figure, and recalling how Charlotte had feigned composure while unable to keep from caring, Russell couldn't help but laugh.
"Yes, yes, yes, you won, you're the big winner." He caught up and walked shoulder to shoulder with her.
"That sounds so perfunctory." Mary shot him a displeased glance. "This is simply the truth."
"Fine, fine, fine, it's the truth." Russell nodded again and again, his perfunctory tone earning him yet another eye-roll from the girl.
And so the two of them bickered idly back and forth, all the way back to the lecture hall.
The afternoon's lessons were as dull as ever, but Russell maintained the posture of one paying attention the whole time, never once slumping down.
How much he actually absorbed didn't matter.
What mattered was letting the professor see that you were listening.
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