Maxim Jakubowski - The Mammoth Book of the Adventures of Professor Moriarty

‘That all sounds very unlikely,’ I said.

‘Not as unlikely as some of the explanations I have heard for Mr Holmes’s survival,’ said Moriarty.

‘Fair comment,’ said Holmes.

‘Go on,’ I said. I’d never been quite sure that baritsu really existed. I hoped that the rest of Holmes’s account of his survival could be trusted.

‘They nursed me,’ Moriarty continued, ‘for two months, until I had recovered – at least physically. In return they asked for nothing. Nothing at all. Their simple everyday kindness humbled me. When I left I tried to give them all I had with me – my money, my watch – but they refused to take anything. I went on my way determined to lead a better and nobler life. I returned to England to resume my academic career.’

‘Then how do you find yourself here?’

Moriarty gave a bitter laugh. ‘Publications,’ he said. ‘As a university head of department you have a great deal of administrative work that the university expects you to carry out. Then you have students to teach, however asinine and unteachable they may be. Finally, you must undertake research and publish in the leading journals. Most academics find that it is difficult to do all three, and very few of them also run a criminal empire spanning much of western Europe. Of course, it was the research that suffered – it always does. Each time I went to an interview I was faced with the question: “Professor Moriarty, I see that you haven’t published since 1889. Why is that?”’

‘Eighteen eighty-nine? Your famous paper on mathematics?’ asked Holmes. ‘What was it called again?’

‘ Towards a post-modernist re-evaluation of the binomial theorem ,’ said Moriarty with a sigh.

‘Of course,’ said Holmes. ‘A masterpiece.’

‘Your criminal activities counted against you,’ I said. ‘You could not have hoped for employment, even at one of the newer institutions.’

Moriarty laughed again. ‘How little you know of our universities,’ he said. ‘All vice chancellors are obliged to maximise revenue from any legitimate source. There was one selection panel which, when I told them how I had extorted ten million marks from the government of Saxony, were completely lost in thought for five whole minutes. In the rejection letter that followed, they said that, if they had imagined for a moment that the trick would have worked twice, they would have had no hesitation in offering me a Chair.’ His voice tailed off wistfully.

Holmes stood there, one boot covered in blacking, the half-crown still held between his fingers. ‘But, you have now come to this …’

‘Indeed. While you are able to buy the very best boots and leave them in your wardrobe, I am obliged to wear a coat that scarcely keeps out the snow on a night such as this. The hovel in which I live has neither food nor coal in it. We have been obliged to burn the doors to keep warm. The landlord long ago sold the roof to some venture capitalists. Even the bare walls now form part of a toxic property bond. I share the bed with three others, none of whom are in any way to my liking. But I am trying to live honestly, as you can see.’

‘And would be insulted by any suggestion of charity, no doubt,’ I said.

‘I didn’t say that ,’ said Moriarty. ‘I definitely didn’t say that .’ Though still kneeling, he had grasped Holmes by his coat. ‘A guinea, sir? You’d never even miss it.’

‘Holmes!’ I exclaimed. ‘This is the wretch who tried to murder you – and would have done had you not known … er … baritsu. He is the man who was, for years, at the heart of every major crime that was committed in London, and at least one in Saxony. You cannot possibly offer him a penny.’

Holmes said nothing. He was staring out into the falling snow.

Moriarty swung round and now held on to my ulster. ‘Or you, Dr Watson? You must be making good money writing up Mr Holmes’s cases – surely I deserve a small share of that for instigating the crimes that are making you rich?’

I muttered something about advances being rather less than the newspapers reported, while at the same time trying to pull myself away from him. His grasp was, however, vice-like on my overcoat.

‘Watson! Do not strike the poor creature!’ Holmes exclaimed.

I realised that I had raised my arm as if to do just that. I lowered it slowly and Moriarty released me, shuffling back on his knees until he was crouching before us like some beaten cur. He now lifted his own arms, as if to fend off whatever blow might fall. It was melodrama, but it was good melodrama.

‘This,’ said Holmes, ‘is all that is left of what was once the Napoleon of crime. Look at him, Watson, and pity him. This is the man who wrote Towards a post-feminist re-evaluation of the binomial theorem.’

‘ Post-modernist,’ said Moriarty.

‘Whatever,’ said Holmes. ‘He has, or had, one of the greatest minds I have ever encountered. And now he kneels before us. We are lucky, Watson. We have looked death in the face – you in Afghanistan, I in many places – and lived to tell the tale. We shall eat well tonight and each have a soft bed to retire to afterwards. And this poor fellow …’

‘We make our own luck,’ I said.

‘You think I deserve to be as I am, Dr Watson? Perhaps you are right. I could have been Lucasian Professor of Mathematics. All I had to do was publish regularly and not build up a vast criminal empire. I ask not for what I deserve, but for your charity.’

Holmes again toyed with the silver coin in his hand, but I was determined Moriarty should have nothing.

‘Holmes,’ I said. ‘The wager!’

My friend looked at me. It was as if some spell had been broken. ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘You are going to pay for dinner. We can still be at Simpson’s by seven.’

‘But only if we leave now ,’ I said.

I had, however, no need for further words. Holmes had already set off. I paused only to smile in what I hoped was an ironic manner at Moriarty before I hurried in the great detective’s footsteps. We had gone some two hundred yards before I managed to catch up with him. He clearly thought there was still a chance of winning the bet.

‘Your nature is far too forgiving,’ I panted, as soon as I drew level with him.

‘I saw merely an old man down on his luck,’ said Holmes. ‘He will have to sit there all night even to make half a crown whereas very shortly we shall be at Simpson’s. Indeed, I calculate that we shall arrive at …’ Holmes felt in his right-hand waistcoat pocket, then in his left. Then he stopped abruptly. ‘I was sure that I had my watch with me …’

‘Your gold half hunter? Of course, I saw it.’

‘I was checking it just before we met Moriarty …’

We both turned and looked behind us. We could still just make out the junction of Bentinck Street and Welbeck Street, but there was no sign of any bootblack, no sign of his tins of blacking. All we could see was the swirling mist.

I laughed. ‘It would seem that the professor has taken advantage of your good nature in more ways than one,’ I said, ‘but never mind, I shall pay for dinner as some recompense.’ I felt in the right pocket of my ulster and then in my left. ‘Holmes,’ I said, ‘I was sure that I had my wallet earlier.’

But he was already searching for his own pocketbook, without success.

‘I think we will have to forgo our dinner at Simpson’s,’ I said. ‘That villain has left us without a penny.’

‘Not quite,’ said Holmes. ‘We have one piece of luck ourselves. I still have this half-crown. It will not provide the dinner I intended, but if we take a right turn just ahead, we shall in due course come to the Alpha Inn, where we may obtain two pints of ale and some goose pie. The landlord is what you might describe as a diamond geezer. That is a consoling thought, is it not?’