Гуру ПесенLukesEnglishPodcast - 30. The Mystery Continues... | Текст песни
The Man & The Moon, part 2…
When I arrived home that night, I immediately wrote everything that had happened into my diary.
“I could make a great podcast out of this”, I thought to myself…
The next day I told my friend what had happened.
“I know just the person who can help you!” he said, “There’s a man who lives in Baker Street, in the centre of London”, he said.
“Yes, I know where Baker Street is – it’s quite a famous street y’know”
“Yes! Anyway, this man is the best detective in London! He’s the most brilliant mind there is. The police have to use him to solve all their crimes, and some say that even the Queen asks him for help when she has lost her TV remote control down the back of the sofa! You should go and visit him. I’m sure he’ll be able to help you.”
I took the address and immediately went to Baker Street on the underground. I took the Picadilly Line from Hammersmith, and changed at Green Park station, but the Jubille line was closed, so I had to get back on the Picadilly Line and then change at Leicester Square onto the Northern Line, but that was delayed due to engineering works and a signal failure at Waterloo station. But finally, after an hour an a half on the underground, I arrived at Baker Street. I found the address: Flat number 21b and knocked on the door. An elderly woman answered.
“Yes?” she said.
“Umm, hello, I’m here to get some help. A friend told me to come”
“Alright, come in then.”
We walked through into the hallway. I could smell pipe tobacco, and what sounded like a cat being murdered in the next room. Then I realised it was a violin being played, very badly.
The woman knocked on the door of the front room, and the violin stopped playing.
“There’s a man here to see you” “Yes, yes, I know” said a loud, commanding voice from inside the room. “Show him in Mrs Hudson, thank you”
Mrs Hudson stepped aside, and I walked into the room.
I immediately felt nervous and awkward. There, standing at the fireplace was a very unique looking man. He was tall and thin, and old. I’m not sure how old he was exactly. His hair was going grey, and his skin was wrinkled, but his eyes were bright and youthful. He could have been as old as 80, but he had the spirit of a much younger man.
He was wearing a brown suit, with a waistcoat, and long leather winter boots. In his hand, he was holding a Stradivarius violin, of very fine quality. On the mantelpiece next to him was a smoking pipe.
“Umm, my friend Smith recommended you. He said that you would be able to assist me” I said.
“Smith? Hmmm?” said the man. “And…?”
“Oh, and, well, the thing is, I need your help… it’s…”
“Well, what do you think Watson?” Said the man, quickly, and only then did I realise that there was a third person in the room. To my right, in a dark leather armchair, there was a red faced man, probably about 65 years old. He had a large brownish red moustache which covered his top lip. In his hand was a large glass of Brandy, and in his other hand, a cigarette. He seemed very comfortable, as if he had just woken up from a lovely sleep by the fire”
“Huh…? Oh, hello! How do you do?” he said, smiling at me and yawning.
“What do you think Watson?” Snapped the man with the violin.
“Oh, err… a student? Perhaps a waiter… erm… ah! An unemployed librarian!”
“No no no! Watson. Completely wrong! Don’t overcomplicate matters! Now, let me try…”
I stood there, feeling confused. The tall man looked at me. “Your name is Thompson, am I right?”
“Well, how on earth did you guess…?”
“Not a guess Mr Thompson… Not a guess… Allow me to demonstrate something for you, if I may”
I stood in silence. I was in the presence of a great mind, I could understand that now.
“Let me see…”
He looked me up and down for a second.
“I would say that you are an English teacher… of no more than 10 years experience, but no less than 5. Let’s say 8 and a half years.”
I was gobsmacked.
“You worked in the far east, didn’t you?” “In Japan?”
“yes! Yes I did!”
“Kanagawa prefecture?”
“Oh my god, yes!”
“Now, I suppose something happened to you, near the river, which you don’t understand, and you need answers, so your friend told you to come and see me so I could sort it all out for you, is that right?”
“Oh – My – GOD! How did you know…? It must be magic, or … a trick!”
“Alright, I’ll tell you” he said, with a bored look on his face.
“Using simple empirical methods of observation and deduction, the truth will almost always reveal itself to you as the most reasonable answer. You just look at the evidence, and think logically. Usually, the simple answer is the best.”
“Would you like a cup of tea? He might take a while” It was Mrs Hudson.
“Oh, yes please” “two sugars”…
The man continued… “One simple look at your hands revealed your occupation. Your nails are badly chewed and damaged. This must be due to stress. A common problem for any teacher, but especially one that has to deal with demanding students from different countries who all want to know about the difference between all the past perfect continuous passive conditional verb tenses, and adjectival noun phrases and reduced non defining relative participle clauses and such matters.” I looked at my fingers, he was right. The nails were a terrible mess… “I saw also that your hands are very dirty with blue and red ink. This must be from using whiteboard marker pens. You write on the board, and in your haste you make a mistake, and then quickly rub it off with your hand, hoping that no-one notices…”
“Umm, yes, that’s true.”
“That’s the evidence which told me that you must be an English teacher.”
“Wow!” I said
“Yes, that and the fact that you’re holding a copy of New Headway Upper Intermediate Teacher’s Book by Liz and John Soars, which kind of gave it away… oh, and Watson googled you before you arrived, but anyway… On your face I noticed wrinkles – around your mouth and eyes. This is from smiling all the time, to keep your students happy, is it not?”
“Yep. Well done. Right again”, I said, sipping my tea, getting a little impatient. “Umm, sorry but could you hurry up a bit? It’s just that this is going to be a really long podcast, and I don’t want anyone to stop listening…”
“Yes yes! I counted the wrinkles on your face, and estimated that since graduating from university, you have been smiling at students for exactly 8.5 years. Simple: Count the wrinkles on the face, divide by 5 (the average teaching hours per day) and the result: 8.5 years.”
“Fair enough” I said.
“And when you entered the room, you bowed slightly. This must be body language which you picked up while living in Japan.”
“Yep. Well done… very good”
I was getting annoyed and impatient. I gulped down my sugary tea.
“OK, you’ve convinced me, you’re a brilliant detective. Now, will you help me out please, Mr…?”
“It’s Holmes, Sherlock Holmes, and this is my companion, Dr Watson”
“Wow, it really is Sherlock Holmes”, I thought. “I’ve read so much about him, but I never thought he was real! And his faithful companion Dr Watson! Fantastic!” I looked again at Watson. He was fast asleep in his chair.
“WAKE UP WATSON!” shouted Holmes, throwing a chess piece at him. It bounced off Watson’s head, and he woke up suddenly, and smiled at me sleepily. “So, how can we help you then Mr Simpson?”
“It’s Thompson you fool!” Shouted Holmes quickly” “And we must hurry to the riverside in Hammersmith immediately! There’s another mystery to solve! Come Watson!”
“How did you know it was Hammersmith…?”
“Oh, never mind…” said Holmes.
The three of us jumped in a cab on Baker Street and drove to Hammersmith bridge. On the way there, I told Holmes about how I’d sat down by the river the night before, how it had been a full moon, how a green monster had nearly grabbed me, how I’d heard weird noises and seen a strange blue light and how I’d been saved by a mysterious man called The Doctor. When we arrived I took Holmes and Watson to the spot where everything had happened. A cold chill ran down my spine as I remembered it all again.
“This is where it happened Mr Holmes” I said.
“Excellent” Said Holmes, a magical light shining in his eyes. “Stand back! I shall investigate the area.”
“He always does this” Said Watson. “He’ll be busy for an hour or two I reckon.”
Holmes was bent over, studying the ground next to the river with a magnifying glass. Occasionally he stopped suddenly, and picked something up and placed it carefully in his pocket. He walked close to the water and looked in. He looked up at the sky and down at the river again. He sniffed the air with his big no
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