Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 227 Increases the Difficulty of Reasoning

In the study, the gaslight cast a long shadow of Lionel as he hunched over his desk on the wall.

Looking at the several sheets of draft paper scattered on the table, Lionel fell into deep thought, constantly recalling the first meeting between "Sherlock Holmes" and "Watson" in the original "A Study in Scarlet".

This is a classic in literary history, yet it made Lionel feel slightly uneasy.

In the original story, when Holmes saw Watson, he almost instantly concluded: "I can tell you've been to Afghanistan."

Was it shocking? Undoubtedly, and it even left readers in suspense.
However, in the subsequent chapter "Deductive Reasoning," Holmes's reasoning process for this conclusion seems to rely too much on general impressions, even the advance introduction by a friend—"This is Dr. Watson."

While the combination of "medical worker demeanor" and "military spirit" makes sense, it is clearly not "hardcore" enough or convincing enough for Lionel, who has read many classic detective stories.

A truly skilled detective cannot rely too much on "intuition," but must stand on a solid, step-by-step logical chain that readers can follow and verify.

Moreover, the current "Watson" is not a seasoned and mature military doctor, but a young medical school graduate who is full of confusion about the future.

Lionel decided to increase the difficulty of this "meeting-to-kill" deduction. He pulled out another sheet of paper, dipped it in ink, and...

"...Stanford introduced us with a smile: 'Mr. Holmes, this is Mr. John Watson. Watson, this is Mr. Sherlock Holmes.'"

"Hello." Holmes's tone was indifferent yet friendly. "I can tell that surgical internships are tough, aren't they? It's good that it's over. But for a surgeon to end up in a second-rate clinic... what a waste of talent."

I was taken aback and instinctively looked at Stamford. My old friend immediately raised his hands and shook his head repeatedly, indicating that he had absolutely not revealed my profession or recent situation to Holmes.

Lionel changed the suffix "doctor" to "sir" when Stanford introduced Watson in the original story, which added a greater obstacle to Holmes's reasoning.

After all, profession is the key factor in shaping a person's physique, appearance, habits, and other image elements. Without the prerequisite of being a "doctor," Holmes's "fleeting glance" would require a much greater amount of mental work than before.

The subsequent plot is basically similar to the original story—Holmes does not explain why he can see Watson's identity and background, but instead rambles on about his insights into bloodstain research.
After initial communication, the two decided to share an apartment at 221B Baker Street. After living there for a while, Watson got to know his rather eccentric roommate better.

One morning, Watson saw an article in a magazine called "The Life Guide," which attempted to illustrate how much a keen observer could gain if he observed the things he encountered in a precise and systematic way.

Although Watson thought the article made some sense, he found it absurd, ridiculous, far-fetched, and exaggerated.

Unexpectedly, Sherlock Holmes was the author of this article. He introduced his profession as a "consulting detective" and explained how he earned his living by relying on his observation and reasoning skills.

During their argument, the two finally came to the point of discussing why Holmes could tell at a glance that he had "just finished his surgical internship" and "was relegated to a second-rate clinic."

Watson suspected that a friend had revealed his identity to Holmes, but Holmes refuted this with rigorous reasoning.

"...Observation, Dr. Watson, merely observation and a little simple reasoning."

He walked to the window and gestured for me to come over too: "Generally speaking, people's professions and lifestyles are as clearly imprinted on them as birthmarks, but most people are blind to them. May I demonstrate for you?" I nodded, still somewhat skeptical: "Of course! Please explain."

Holmes turned around and focused his gaze on me. "Very good. Let's start from the beginning. First, I noticed your hands."

I subconsciously raised my hand to look at it—it was a young man's hand, with distinct knuckles and fairly strong.

“Please look closely at your hands. They are not befitting the age and attire of a young gentleman like yourself. They appear overly rough, with dull skin, and some slight peeling and redness. This condition is usually only seen on the hands of two types of people: firstly, housewives who spend long hours doing housework and handling alkaline water and rough objects, commonly known as ‘housewife’s hands’; secondly…”

He paused, looked at me like a professor in a medical school, giving me time to think and wanting me to answer the following questions.

I could only shake my head blankly.

After a while, he revealed the answer: "Secondly, it's a specific profession that requires frequent and thorough hand cleaning. You're clearly not a housewife, and you don't have thick calluses from long-term labor on your hands. So, what profession requires a young person to treat their hands so harshly, resulting in such signs of aging that are not in line with their age?"

I think I've figured it out a little, but I'm still confused.

Holmes continued, but his gaze shifted to my fingertips and the area between my thumb and forefinger: "Next, I noticed some very fine, almost imperceptible linear cuts on your hands, especially on your fingertips, the area between your thumb and forefinger, and the edge of your palm. Some are new, some are old, and the newest is light pink. These kinds of cuts are usually caused by extremely sharp, light-duty instruments."

I started to understand, and then I looked at my hands more closely.

"These kinds of wounds usually only appear on a chef's hands—cuts and lacerations. But look closely, the wounds on your hands are too short, too close together, and located more in the grip areas used for delicate operations. Wounds from a kitchen knife are usually longer and deeper. More importantly—"

He looked me up and down: "Your physique, complexion, and attire are quite different from those of a professional chef. So, what profession requires the frequent use of such sharp and delicate tools, leaving behind these unique 'marks'?"

I held my breath slightly; the answer was obvious.

Holmes's voice remained steady: "Now, let's combine these two points. A pair of hands prematurely aged by frequent, meticulous cleaning, coupled with a unique pattern of wounds inflicted by precision-sharp instruments. In London, what young gentleman would possess both of these characteristics? The answer points to only one profession: surgeon."

Or more accurately, surgical interns. As far as I know, only the surgical department of Edinburgh Medical School requires repeatedly scrubbing your hands with diluted lime water before each dissection or surgery—which causes your hands to become rough and peel; and only you guys use scalpels and sutures so frequently, while the older doctors only perform a few surgeries a day.

As an assistant, cutting your fingers on sharp blades during intense surgeries is commonplace. Considering your age, the answer is obvious—you're a recent graduate of Edinburgh Medical School, having just completed an intensive surgical internship.

I listened, dumbfounded: "Your reasoning is indeed meticulous and flawless. But I still have a question—"

How did you know I 'just finished' my internship? And how did you know I... 'suffered' at a second-rate clinic?

I don't think these hands can still convey my experience.

(End of this chapter)