Chapter 94 The Real Mr. Holmes!
Chapter 94 The Real Mr. Holmes!
Everyone present understood.
This is not a coincidence! Nor is it a story!
This is a document...
..script!
Vincent is just a conman who reads lines from a script!
With a "buzz," the crowd erupted in a frenzy.
"My God! What the newspaper said is exactly the same as what he said!"
"Look here! They even wrote down the names of the eggs and bread he gave out!"
"What... what exactly is going on?"
The cheers disappeared, replaced by panic.
People whispered among themselves, passing newspapers around, their faces filled with shock and anger.
Charlie LeBron, sitting in the front row, finally realized something was wrong.
He took a newspaper from the person next to him.
After Charlie finished reading the story, his mind went blank.
Those boastful words he once believed in now felt like a resounding slap across his face.
His proudest investment, his chance to prove himself.
It was a clumsy scam from beginning to end!
Vincent on the stage panicked at this moment.
"Quiet! Everyone! Quiet!"
The more I admired them, the angrier I am now!
He tried to regain control of the situation, but no one listened to him anymore.
He didn't know what had happened, but he knew something must have gone wrong.
The stage I had carefully built has completely collapsed.
Just then, the blacksmith who had first discovered the truth stood up.
He was an honest and simple man; he even sold his ancestral hammer and forging furnace to invest.
At that moment, his eyes turned bloodshot with anger.
He held the London Express high, pointed it with all his might at Vincent on the stage, and let out a heart-wrenching roar.
"fraud!"
"The newspapers...the newspapers wrote down every single thing you said! You damned liar!"
That shout of "liar!" instantly ignited people's anger.
"Liar! Give me my money back!"
"My cows! I've sold all the cows in the house!"
Angry roars, women's cries, and men's curses merged into a massive sound wave that nearly overturned the night sky over Wilkesworth!
With bloodshot eyes, the villagers stood up from their seats and approached Vincent on the stage step by step.
The previous anticipation and fervor were gone from their faces, replaced only by overwhelming anger and despair at being deceived.
If they catch Vincent, their money can still be saved!
Vincent's smile vanished completely, and beads of sweat rolled down his forehead.
He couldn't understand how his flawless plan could have been exposed so suddenly.
"Everyone, calm down! This is slander! Someone doesn't want us to make money!"
But this time, no one believed him anymore.
His voice was drowned out by the wave of angry denunciations.
A burly farmer was the first to rush forward.
"Kill this liar!"
Once someone takes the lead, the crowd's emotions immediately spiral out of control.
They surged toward the small wooden platform like a tide.
Seeing that the situation was not good, Vincent's face flashed with a ruthless look.
He stopped arguing and instead turned around and kicked over the campfire that was burning fiercely beside him.
With a "whoosh".
Burning firewood and scalding sparks flew everywhere, and the crowd screamed and instinctively backed away.
The scene immediately descended into even greater chaos.
Vincent seized the opportunity and jumped off the other side of the wooden platform.
Like a frightened mouse, it desperately scurried into the dark alley behind the church.
He had already prepared an escape route for himself.
Behind the church is a quiet alley that leads directly to the town's exit.
There, a carriage he had prepared long ago was parked, loaded with all the wealth he had amassed over the past few days.
If he can get there, he can escape!
And you can still enjoy a wonderful time in France with a wealth of experiences!
"Don't let him get away!" someone shouted.
Charlie stood there, dejected, staring at the chaotic scene before him.
He wasn't afraid, but rather ashamed and remorseful.
He treated this swindler like an honored guest, served him diligently, and even personally handed over the money his son sent back to this villain.
He's the biggest idiot!
As Vincent's figure was about to disappear at the alley entrance, Charlie's blood rushed to his head.
He didn't know where the strength came from, but he pushed through the crowd and chased after them like a madman.
"Stop right there, you bastard!"
Vincent ran frantically without looking back.
It has to be said that in this day and age, those who are con artists must have top-notch physical fitness.
Even with angry villagers behind him, Vincent still managed to escape with a glimmer of hope.
Victory was within reach; he could almost smell the air of freedom in France.
Just get around this corner...
Just as he was about to rush out of the alley, a dark shadow, accompanied by a whooshing sound, crashed down hard.
"Bang!"
Vincent felt a sudden darkness before his eyes, followed by a sharp pain on his face.
It was a heavy, cold lead-cast printing plate with ink stains on the edges.
Vincent's nose collapsed instantly, and his teeth gushed out mixed with blood.
His usually cunning face was now covered in blood.
He fell straight backward and crashed heavily to the ground.
The chasing crowd, including Charlie, all stopped in their tracks in surprise.
They stared in disbelief at the bloody yet swift and decisive scene.
"I told you, I'm going to smash it in your face with my own hands!"
In the darkness at the alley entrance, a tall, slender figure slowly emerged.
He was dressed in a well-tailored London gentleman's outfit, and appeared remarkably calm and composed against the backdrop of the chaotic surroundings.
The moonlight illuminated his profile, revealing a young and handsome face.
This person is none other than Michelle!
"Who...who are you?" Vincent covered his bleeding face, his voice distorted by pain and fear.
"The person who wrote your script."
Michelle's voice was calm as he looked at the disheveled conman on the ground and pointed to the lead plate.
"And this is both the prologue and the final chapter!"
"Michelle!"
Anna and Bella pushed their way out of the crowd and cried out in surprise.
Charlie was terrified, staring blankly at his son who seemed to have descended from the heavens, his lips trembling, unable to utter a single word.
Michelle nodded to her mother and sister, her calm gaze sweeping over everyone present.
Just then, a series of neat and powerful footsteps came from the other end of the alley.
Two Scotland Yard detectives, dressed in dark blue uniforms and wearing top hats, walked briskly over, led by a local sheriff.
Behind them followed several reporters holding pens and paper.
Seeing the scene before him, the lead detective was clearly surprised, but he quickly regained his professionalism.
"Mr. Michel, it seems you've resolved the problem."
"In my opinion, you are the real Sherlock Holmes."
He knew the inside story perfectly well, and in his eyes, Michelle's methods were no less effective than those described in his book.
Michelle shrugged.
"He tried to run away, and I had to stop him."
The detective walked up to Vincent, nudged him with the tip of his boot, and then gestured to his partner behind him.
"Vincent LeBlanc, on behalf of Scotland Yard, I hereby formally arrest you for defaulting on personal debts, suspected forgery of company documents, large-scale financial fraud, forging military officer signatures, and stealing military pay..."
Two detectives stepped forward and skillfully handcuffed Vincent's wrists with cold handcuffs.
Vincent watched as a divine intervention unfolded before him, and as he looked at the young man who seemed like a judge. The last shred of hope in his heart vanished completely.
Subsequently, his carriage, which he had hidden deep in the alley, was also discovered.
Immediately afterwards, the sheriff unloaded a heavy leather trunk from the carriage at the alley entrance.
The suitcase was opened in front of all the villagers.
"Splash!"
A large chest full of gold and silver coins glittered in the firelight.
This contains the hard-earned money of each and every one of them.
Seeing that their money was intact, the villagers were finally relieved.
Our savings are saved!
Michelle looked at the villagers' expressions of relief, then glanced at her father, who was completely stunned, not far away, and breathed a long sigh of relief.
Luckily, I made it in time!
The real Sherlock Holmes may be late, but he will never be absent!