To update you all;
I have met Don Quixote today for the first time today, though I had committed so much of my time to observing him. He confessed to being Don Quixote, and I feigned interest although I am not surprised to know this as his identity. In accordance I revealed my identity to him, thinking it rather trivial polite introduction, but upon telling him I was Sherlock Holmes he seemed to burst into the laddish capriciousness I may expect of a youth fawning over a girl! He explained to me that he was aware of my work and that he himself was quite a fan. He even went so far as to show me the copy of his book that featured my exploit. It was strange enough to have such sense of popularity in this time, but what was even stranger was when I opened up the book to see what kind of exploit of mine he was describing, the book – I kid you not – was completely blank! I was afraid that the man I was speaking to was completely mad!
Yet the conversation turned more productive; along with the book he provided a video that was left to him by the late Tara which he believed would be useful in our investigation, which I will post soon. I was occasionally bothered by his impoliteness in the conversation – he seemed very keen to do some typing on his cellular device during the conversation (as he explained it was sending a ‘tweet’; I confess I have a poor understanding of this phenomenon). There was something else; he seemed to actually understand my mannerisms, and even some of the principles of my methods of deduction as if he had read some sort of exploit of mine. But the book he brought me was white as a sheet; did he bring the wrong book? Or… is the problem with me?
With some hesitance I allowed Don Quixote to join me at the crime scene today (covertly, albeit), which yielded a new twist in our investigation; these modern-day technologies for the phone allow me to reach the last number used by Tara. 1I used this “*69” and sure enough it provided a phone number; perhaps it is another piece in the puzzle:
I seldom have time to think of it nonetheless; I struggled to manage Don Quixote anyway, and I truly see no alternative motivation nor practical opportunity for murder by anyone other than Mrs. Loverose, though some details are such I cannot connect them. Don Quixote, however, insists with obscene if idyllic prejudice that it could not be Mrs. Loverose for no other reason than she is a woman! He does not understand that solving a murder is a business built on distrusting, lying and muddying one’s hands with blood. His principles will undo the whole investigation. But oh well; the amateur may concern himself with fanciful theories of Tara being shot through a closed window. Perhaps you, my followers, can help. If you could, please contact me on my email if you can find anything that can help.