Cokeworth Police Station.
This industrial town had never experienced such a serious crime: three dead, one lightly injured, and eight seriously injured.
Except for the lightly injured child, all other injured individuals had lost consciousness, commonly referred to as 'insane'.
Three suspects were brought back from the scene: two were the complainants and well-known private detectives from London, while the third was a child who appeared to be below school age.
Chief Robert scratched his already balding head, feeling that the few remaining hairs would not last much longer.
This incident, like a wildfire, spread rapidly and fiercely throughout the quiet town, filling the entire city with an atmosphere of tension and unease.
Rumors about the mysterious and perverted killer grew increasingly bizarre and terrifying.
People's faces were filled with fear and suspicion; even during the day, the streets lacked their usual hustle and bustle, replaced by hurried figures and tightly closed doors and windows.
Ultimately, to appease the public, the police station quickly concluded the case as a gang shootout.
"Idiots," Sherlock spat out coldly after glancing at the investigation results from the Cokeworth Police Station.
"Sherlock, you know this isn't how it happened," Watson said, frowning at the notice board. "Those poor brothers lost both their parents because of this and had to be sent to an orphanage."
He then looked at Sherlock beside him. "At least you should reveal the truth for them."
Sherlock's eyes flickered slightly at his words, a rare hint of confusion in them. He turned, his gaze deep as he looked at Watson, and slowly said, "Because there is one place where even I am perplexed."
"What could perplex even you?" Watson asked, looking at him curiously.
Sherlock did not answer immediately, instead falling into his own thoughts.
Just as Watson was about to press further, Sherlock suddenly strode away. "Sherlock, where are you going?"
"To uncover the truth," he replied without looking back.
Cokeworth Orphanage, a slightly dilapidated building located on the edge of the town, stood quietly among sparse trees. It was even more desolate than Spinner's End.
Inside the kitchen, steam swirled. Thomas and Severus were squatting in a corner, peeling potatoes with small knives.
This was the task they had been assigned for the day, surrounded by several other children of similar age.
After the incident, they had been sent to this orphanage by the police.
Here, all children except infants had to work, earning their food through labor.
It wasn't abuse, but it certainly wasn't a good life.
The kitchen was stuffy and hot, and they all had to squat to work. Thomas looked at Severus beside him, whose forehead was already covered in sweat, and asked with concern, "Sev, do you want to rest for a bit?"
Severus silently shook his head, his thoughts seemingly bound by an invisible force, unable to escape the sudden upheaval. He didn't understand why, why they had lost everything in the blink of an eye and become members of an orphanage. This immense contrast suffocated him, as if his entire world had collapsed overnight.
Thomas looked at Young Siv, who was diligently working with his head down, his heart a mix of emotions.
After living in Hogsmeade Village for a while, the rare spark of liveliness and smile he had seen on Severus's face was now replaced by deep gloom.
He understood that the pain of losing loved ones was difficult for anyone to bear, let alone a sensitive and profound child like Severus.
So Thomas chose the gentlest approach: silence and companionship.
He did not try to comfort Severus with words, knowing that some wounds needed time to heal slowly.
At the same time, Thomas also felt Severus's dependence on him deepen; even if he left for a moment, Severus would panic.
This made Thomas somewhat worried about Severus's mental health. This might be the shadow left by psychological trauma, but given their current situation, he had no way to take Severus to a doctor.
Thomas was waiting for an opportunity, an opportunity to leave the orphanage.
He felt that a change of environment would be good for Severus, preferably leaving this town, or at least not staying in this poverty-stricken and rumor-filled orphanage.
The first choice, of course, was the Wizarding World.
However, the two ways Moody had shown them to leave seemed unusable to him.
In Hogsmeade Village, he had heard young wizards say that there seemed to be an entrance in London, a train station?
Thomas absently peeled the potato in his hand into a pea... Just then, a nun walked in and called him back to his senses: "Thomas, Severus, come with me."
Under the envious gazes of the other children, they followed the nun out of the kitchen.
When Thomas and Severus, full of questions, followed the nun to the reception room, they saw two men sitting on a wooden bench inside.
Severus didn't recognize them, but Thomas knew these were the people who had burst in after Danny last time; they seemed to think they had saved him... The nun led them to the two men: "Mr. Holmes, Mr. Watson, these are the two boys you wished to see, Thomas and Severus."
Thomas's eyes widened: "You are Sherlock Holmes?"
Detective, where are your hat and pipe?
Holmes always felt that the boy in front of him looked at him with a strange gaze.
He scrutinized Thomas; the child in front of him today was a completely different person from the terrified and timid boy he had seen that day: "Yes, you know me?"
"I've heard of your great name, great detective," Thomas said, his heart alert. Then, he must have noticed something amiss about that day's events.
Thomas's gaze became guarded: "May I ask what you want with me?"
"I'd like to chat with you. You're Thomas, right?" It seemed this child wasn't exactly a fan.
"Mr. Watson?" Thomas didn't reply to Holmes, turning instead to the man beside Holmes. This must be Dr. John H. Watson, known for his steady and kind nature.
"You know me too?" Watson asked, a hint of surprise mixed with his curiosity.
"Of course, your reputation here is no less than Holmes's," Thomas said with a smile, his tone very sincere. "Would you mind taking my brother for a walk outside? I'd like to speak with Mr. Holmes alone."
Watson paused, glanced at Sherlock, and seeing him nod, he extended his hand to Severus.
Severus was reluctant: "Thomas, I'm not going."
"Be good, I'll come find you soon."
At Thomas's insistence, Severus reluctantly left.
Thomas sat on the bench opposite Holmes, speaking before Holmes could: "Mr. Holmes, may I ask you a question first?"
Holmes was somewhat surprised but still nodded: "You may."
"That day, why were you and Mr. Watson at my house?"
"Danny Blackwood, he is the second-in-command of the London gang 'Night Brotherhood', and also a notorious 'human trafficker'. Of course, to me, this is just another wicked legend circulating in the streets; his methods are crude and despicable, not enough to attract my attention."
"But some time ago, an anonymous message quietly appeared in my information channels, stating that Danny Blackwood was coming here to conduct an unprecedented transaction, and the goods for the transaction were two children, two... children who could use magic." Holmes stared intently at Thomas. The child showed no surprise, smiling and meeting his gaze.
Holmes already had the answer in his heart. He suddenly felt he needed a cigarette, if John didn't return too quickly...