Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 259 Sherlock Holmes was a real person! (Bonus chapter for every 1000 votes)
The intention behind this statement was clearly to clarify the facts, uphold Scotland Yard's professional image, and dampen the growing "Sherlock Holmes fever."

However, the effect was the opposite.

Instead of quelling public curiosity, it added fuel to the fire.

At first, readers who saw the statement were taken aback—Scotland Yard would respond to a novel in such a formal way?
Then, a wonderful chemical reaction occurred.

If Scotland Yard does nothing about it, readers will naturally assume that the novel is fiction and will not consider its "realism" at all.

However, the statement emphasized that it was "purely fictitious," which many people saw as an attempt to cover up the truth and an obvious attempt to distance themselves from the matter.

At the Cheshire Cheese pub on Fleet Street, several reporters surrounded the day's Times and burst into laughter.

"Ha! Scotland Yard can't sit still! They're scared! They're scared that readers will actually think they need a private investigator to help them!"

"Look at their tone, 'never, never'? Don't they know that the more they emphasize it, the more suspicious it seems?"

"Perhaps there is no Sherlock Holmes in reality, but who can guarantee that there aren't similar talented people!"

"Come on, Scotland Yard is just unwilling to admit its incompetence!"

“Gresen and Lestrade are such brilliant names! They sound like the typical arrogant and foolish detective.”

……

Similar interpretations quickly spread among the public.

Scotland Yard's statement, in a comical way, added an unprecedented sense of realism and topicality to A Study in Scarlet.

"Even Scotland Yard has come out to deny the rumors, so this story must be extraordinary!" This has become a new reason for many people to rush to buy the "Good Words" magazine.

Readers who were not originally interested in detective novels also developed a strong curiosity because of this "official bill".

When Dr. Norman McLeod read the statement, he was first taken aback, then burst into laughter.

He immediately instructed his assistant: "Quick! Mount this statement! It's the best advertisement for us!"

Also, tell the printing company to add a sentence to the back cover for the next reprint—

'This story is entirely fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Please refer to Scotland Yard's latest statement.'

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The fervor sparked by "A Study in Scarlet" continued to grow in the sweltering London summer.

Soon, it found a specific outlet – Baker Street.

Initially, readers who were deeply attracted by the novel and couldn't wait to visit Baker Street with a sense of pilgrimage.

They longed to find the starting point of that legend—221B Baker Street.

But as you walk along the cobblestone street, carefully checking the house numbers of each household, counting from the bustling intersection all the way to the quieter northern section…

Reality dealt them a heavy blow: Baker Street's house numbers only went up to number 85, and 221B simply did not exist on any real map.

A young lawyer who had come all the way from Kensington closed his notebook in disappointment: "It really was fabricated..."

He had originally planned to draw a sketch of 221B, but now he has to go home empty-handed.

Similar sighs echoed across Baker Street, the initial excitement quickly replaced by disappointment.

"Literature is, after all, just literature." The readers reluctantly prepared to leave.

However, just as this feeling of disappointment began to spread, a turning point appeared.

Before leaving, a sharp-eyed intern reporter from the Daily Chronicle reluctantly made one last round of inspections of the entire street.

His gaze inadvertently fell on the house with the address "21B".

This is a Georgian-style townhouse that looks quite respectable but not particularly eye-catching.

Just as his gaze lingered, the curtains of a second-floor window twitched slightly, and then a figure flashed past with incredible speed!

Although it was only for a fleeting moment, the silhouette of that figure was clearly imprinted in the reporter's mind:
He was wearing a deerstalker hat, a dark cloak, and had a long pipe in his mouth!

It's that iconic silhouette from the cover of Good Words magazine!

The reporter excitedly grabbed his companion's arm, his voice trembling with excitement: "My God! Look! 21B!"

Those around him looked in the direction he was pointing, but the window was already empty. However, his exciting description reignited their pent-up curiosity.

"21B! 221B! This is no coincidence!"

"The author slightly changed the address to protect the detective's privacy!"

"That's right! It must be! Sherlock Holmes is a real person!"

This discovery spread like wildfire.

Some people began to stake out across from 21B or on the street corner, staring intently at that mysterious window.

Their patience paid off—as dusk settled, the figure wearing a deerstalker hat and a cloak briefly reappeared at the window.

He seemed to be gazing at the London twilight before quietly disappearing back inside.

This time, even more people saw it.

Even more excitingly, someone managed to knock on the door of room 21B, and a widowed elderly woman who introduced herself as "Mrs. Anderson" appeared at the door.

When questioned, she was evasive, unwilling to say more about the tenant, yet seemingly acknowledging that the tenant was indeed somewhat "special".

This hesitant attitude, to the enthusiastic crowd, is undoubtedly seen as proof that there's nothing to hide.

"21B Baker Street is the real 221B!"

"Sherlock Holmes was a real person!"

These two pieces of news spread throughout London overnight.

The rumors and Scotland Yard's statement form a wonderful intertextuality.

In the public's imagination, the connection between the two is all too obvious:
It is precisely because Sherlock Holmes was a real person, and his abilities far surpassed those of the official detectives, that they had to seek help privately. This is why Scotland Yard was so furious in denying the allegations, trying to cover up their incompetence and ignorance.

The more the authorities deny the rumors, the more it proves the truth.

The readers and citizens went absolutely crazy.

Hundreds of people gather outside 21B Baker Street from morning till night, eagerly hoping to catch a glimpse of the legendary detective, even just a silhouette.

For a short time, traffic on Baker Street was congested, much to the dismay of the neighbors.

An exasperated neighbor tried to clarify, loudly telling the onlookers:
"The person living in that house is just an ordinary young man!"

"Mrs. Anderson was called Mary Jenkins last month!"

"There are no detectives at all!"

However, their voices were immediately drowned out by the clamor and skepticism of the crowd.

"Hmph, they must have been pressured by the police to spread rumors!"

"Or maybe they're just jealous of Mr. Holmes's fame!"

"Protection! They are protecting Mr. Holmes from being disturbed!"

People only believe what they want to believe.

The truth appears so pale and powerless in the face of the collective will of the public.

The media sprang into action, with tabloid reporters spending long hours camped out on Baker Street, hoping to get the first scoop on this "real detective."

The Daily Chronicle even published an imaginative report titled "The Ghost of Baker Street: Did Sherlock Holmes Really Exist?"

The article vividly describes the eyewitness testimonies of the readers, attributing the landlord's denials and the neighbors' explanations to "necessary smokescreens to protect this genius detective."

The article concludes with a poignant statement:

Perhaps, in this age of reason, we still need a mysterious detective living deep within London, whose extraordinary wisdom can illuminate the dark corners that we ordinary mortals cannot see.

The climax of this farce occurred on a drizzly morning.

Arthur Conan Doyle, needing to visit the British Museum for research, attempts to sneak out of the house through the back door.

However, as soon as he turned out of the alley, he was ambushed by several shrewd reporters who had been lying in wait.

(End of this chapter)