Becoming Professor Moriarty’s Probability

Chapter 114: The Hound of the Baskervilles (2)

After a thorough discussion regarding whether to chase after Isaac Adler, who seemed to have deceived them into coming to this place, or to wait for him in this estate… the three women decided on the latter option.

"This way, please."

""".........."""

Therefore, they followed the guidance of the female butler – who had been waiting for them at the door to make their decision – and crossed the entrance path to finally arrive right in front of the Baskerville estate.

"The inside is cleaner than I expected."

"... Indeed. It looks a bit old and worn down from the outside."

Watson and Lestrade muttered, surprised by the unexpectedly neat interior of the estate as they entered through the door opened by the butler.

"For a house that has been passed down in the family through several generations, it’s quite well-maintained. Indeed, a noble family is on a tier of their own.”

"........."

Meanwhile, Charlotte Holmes spoke to the butler in a sharp voice.

"... Why is it so neatly refurbished then?"

As she asked her question with a raised voice, the female butler, who had been bowing her head with the door open, quietly lifted her gaze.

"Until recently, it was used as a vacation home."

"... Does that mean it will no longer be used as a vacation home?"

"Yes."

The butler answered in a flat tone.

"The heir to the estate is expected to return soon."

"... I see."

Hearing that succinct response, Charlotte nodded quietly and moved forward.

"I heard that due to the curse on the estate, the family no longer lives here."

".........."

"The heir does not care about such matters, I reckon?"

But then Charlotte paused her stride momentarily, turned her head ever so slightly, and questioned her once more.

"It's just baseless superstition."

"In a world where superstition and irrationality have become the norm, that's the least fitting thing to say, isn’t it?"

Charlotte responded to the butler's immediate reply with a low chuckle, her eyes sharp as she scanned the interior of the house and resumed her walk once more.

"... I apologize on her behalf."

Sighing as she watched Charlotte’s receding back, Watson quietly approached the female butler and whispered.

"She's always been quite sharp. I hope for your understanding."

"... There’s no need."

The female butler, who replied with a bow, had an expression so gloomy and cold, that Watson, who had offered the apology first, was completely taken aback.

"........."

And not just that, the overall atmosphere of the estate that unfolded before them was the same as the butler’s temperament.

From the ornaments and paintings that adorned the large estate to the colours of the wallpaper and the lights on the walls.

Even the servants and maids, who were quietly bowing their heads behind the female butler, without exception, all exuded a dark and strange aura.

"Come on, let's go inside as well."

"Ah, yes..."

Overwhelmed by the atmosphere, Watson followed Lestrade with a relieved expression upon hearing her indifferent voice as she led the way forward.

'As long as the inspector is here, nothing will happen...'

She had never envied the inspector's curse, which easily nullified any supernatural, bizarre, and unordinary forces, as much as she did now.

In fact, it might be more appropriate to call it a rather than a curse.

However, she kept those thoughts to herself as everyone who possessed a curse had one thing in common— they all detested their curse down to their very bones, no matter how beneficial the side effects of the curse may be to them.

"So, the thing is..."

Once all three of the ladies had entered the estate's reception room and sat down, Charlotte was the first to speak up.

"Miss Holmes. Perhaps you should restrain yourself for now..."

"What is your relationship with Isaac Adler?"

"........."

Lestrade, who had tried to interrupt her mid-sentence to avoid further issues, closed her mouth and surreptitiously glanced at the butler upon hearing that question.

"It's simply the relationship between the estate's caretaker and a guest visiting the vacation home.”

"Is that so?"

As the butler responded in a low voice, Charlotte leaned in quietly with clear interest in her eyes.

"A secret lover, or an ex-girlfriend, a hidden fiancée, or maybe..."

"Excuse me, but you’re being quite rude right now.”

"I apologize."

Watson, who quickly grabbed her by the nape of the neck and made her bow in apology, sent a questioning glance to Lestrade next to her as if to say— What are you doing?

"... If it's none of that, could she perhaps be an agent of Professor Moriarty?"

"What are you saying, Inspector? Even you should keep your wits about you at a time like this."

"Or perhaps the heir is..."

"... Sigh."

But when even she started muttering those incredulous words with a tense expression on her face, Watson had no choice but to sigh deeply as she shook her head.

"Do they both like Isaac Adler that much..."

"Well, it doesn’t really matter either way. It's a bit surprising, but when you think about it, it's rather the past events up that were odd."

Charlotte cut off her muttering and spoke up, crossing her legs.

"Let's put that aside, there’s something I'd like to hear from a particular someone."

"Are you addressing me, Charlotte Holmes?"

"Do you know me?"

"It would be harder to find someone in present-day Britain who doesn't know about you."

The female butler nodded quietly in response, and Charlotte sighed before muttering.

"... Sometimes I miss the days when I could walk openly through London and crimes would happen right around the corner like an everyday occurrence."

"Holmes, you shouldn't miss those dreadful days."

"Watson, you're quite talkative today, aren’t you?"

Then, directing a rather blunt gaze towards Watson, she turned her gaze back to the female butler.

"Anyway, I would like to hear the legend related to the ancestors of this estate."

"... As I said earlier, it is merely a baseless superstition."

"Rumors and legends don't just spring up out of nowhere. There must certainly be an event that gave rise to such rumors."

Upon hearing her words, the female butler's gaze darkened ominously.

"I suppose detectives these days are keenly interested in investigating matters from 200 years ago, huh…"

"... Not necessarily."

Yet Charlotte Holmes met the butler’s dark gaze with a relaxed expression.

"There’s a theory I've been working on personally lately. The history of this family just seemed about the perfect thing that would help me complete it.”

"Is that so?"

"Would you please tell me about it?"

Amid their exchange, a distinctly chilly atmosphere flowed between them. It was at that tense moment when…

"... Allow me to take it from there. I will provide you with a satisfactory explanation.”

A cheerful voice came from behind them.

"So would you please stop harassing our dear butler?"

With blood dripping from his appearance as if he had been heavily beaten up on the way, Isaac Adler's entrance caused the eyes of the three women to collectively widen, the emotions in their eyes— indescribable.

.

.

.

.

.

"This time it's really nothing serious."

"".........""

"I just got hit by a carriage on the street. Haha."

As Adler cheerfully murmured those words, wrapping the bandage the female butler had brought around his body, the three women gazed at him blankly for a while.

"I have many questions and things I want to ask."

Charlotte was the first among them to regain her composure and spoke to him in a low voice.

"Let's start with the legend I want to know about."

"I didn't know Miss Holmes was so interested in superstitions and legends."

"........."

"... Fine. I'll tell you. Why do you have to look at me so fiercely?"

Adler murmured with interest, however, under the chilly stares of Charlotte and Lestrade he chose to give in and proceed with the explanation.

"It happened about 200 years ago."

Just as he was about to speak, ignoring the dark gaze the female butler was directing at him from the side,

- Creeeeak...

The sound of a door being opened came from behind them.

"What is this, who are you people?"

A pale-faced, dignified-looking girl appeared from behind the door, and the room was thus submerged in silence.

"Who is this lady...?"

"... This is Miss Helen Baskerville, the heiress of this mission. She has recently returned from Canada.”

"Ahh..."

The three women, who were looking at her with wary eyes, became even more guarded after the female butler's explanation.

"I'm sure I made myself clear."

Yet, the girl who had been looking at them with frigid eyes began whispering to the female butler in a cold voice.

"I told you to kick that man out by today."

"... But, Miss. The residence rights to this estate belong to that gentleman for the next few weeks."

"What did you say?"

"You may be the heiress, but you have not yet inherited the estate from the master. On the other hand, Mr. Adler has a formal lodging contract with the master already."

"Haa..."

Hearing those words, she sighed deeply, running her hand through her hair in frustration.

"When your so-called vacation is over, leave immediately."

"I was planning to do just that, yes."

"I don't want someone like you in this estate for a second longer."

With those words, she glanced at Adler with a look of unadulterated disgust and stormed out of the room.

"... It seems you all might be forgetting something."

In front of the three bewildered women came a voice, brimming with faint, noticeable notes of satisfaction.

"While it's true I maintain intimate relationships with half of London's women, the other half find me utterly detestable."

Having said that, Adler glanced towards Gia Lestrade and added,

"... Despite the 50% chance, it feels like it's been a long time since I've seen someone like her since Miss Lestrade.”

After finishing his statement, Adler looked around at the three silent women for a moment.

"Anyway, shall we get back to the main topic?"

He said in a low tone, the corners of his mouth curling up to form a faint smile, and continued the story he was about to tell.

"... It's a tale from 200 years ago."

It was the legend involving the Baskerville family's curse… a legend… that was about to bring forth devastating repercussions just a few days later.

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Meanwhile, at that moment…

"Uh, uh..."

The current owner of the Baskerville estate, Sir Charles Baskerville, Baronet, was stepping backwards with an expression filled with terror.

- Grrrrr...

"Uh, aah..."

As he had encountered a monstrous creature, its eyes glowing fiercely with a bluish tint, while he had briefly stepped out for a stroll along the nearby moorlands.

"AAAAAAHHHHHH!!"

Shortly after, the moorlands were stained in the colour of blood and the cacophony of endless bloodcurdling /genesisforsaken

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