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

He turned and handed Munro a glass then picked up his own. ‘Shall we drink to our success, Munro?’

‘Oh, I think so. It has been a glittering success, a lesson in detection.’

‘Kind of you to say so, my good fellow. It will, I think, display the art of deduction to perfection.’

Munro gave a short laugh and then the smile faded from his face. ‘Or rather it could show the art of deception.’

His eyes suddenly seemed sharper, unblinking and his head oscillated right and left in a manner reminiscent of a reptile.

‘My God, can it be you?’ Holmes gasped, dropping his whisky and soda and darting his right hand inside his sling to come out again with his revolver. ‘But, as you can see, Moriarty – I never take chances.’

In answer, Professor Moriarty merely smiled and took a sip of his drink. ‘Put it down, Holmes. It is full of blanks. I exchanged the bullets after you fainted and we packed you off to hospital. That’s better, now let us talk frankly.’

‘What have you done with Munro?’

Moriarty smiled. ‘There is no other person by that name that you need concern yourself about. Effectively, I am Alistair Munro, as I have been for two years. You pride yourself on your ability to disguise yourself, as the world knows from your egotistical tales, which Dr Watson publishes on your behalf. I too have several personae that I use, which require certain disguises. They are of various people in authority whose position is such that they can come and go as they please, so I can show up as them when it is convenient for me to do so. Munro has been my particular hobby, fostering a disciple-like relationship with you as I built his career. And, as this case demonstrates, he has been very useful.’

‘In what way useful, Professor?’ Holmes asked, regaining his composure. ‘Why would following me aid you?’

‘Because I didn’t follow you, Holmes, I guided you at every step. From the elimination of O’Donohue, one of my men whose incompetence necessitated his removal from my service.’

‘You killed him?’

‘I eliminated him. Then I used his death as a means to eliminate Sanderson.’

‘Why would you want to eliminate an anarchist and his group?’

Moriarty laughed. ‘Actually, a bit of anarchy is very good for business. You can see that, can’t you? A headless state means total confusion. When the authorities are preoccupied it is perfect for my organisation and others like mine. You have seen how anarchy has worked for my colleagues in the Balkans and across Europe.’

He sipped his drink again. ‘But this had nothing to do with anarchists. And there is no such organisation as the Pentagram Society. Elliot Sanderson, on the other hand, was perfectly real. He was a fanatic, but he was not an anarchist. He was an Irish nationalist, an American Irish nationalist, of course. His organisation and I do substantial business from time to time and they requested that I aid him in blowing up Salisbury and his government. They supplied the money to obtain explosives and together we removed Collingwood the MP for Stepney so that his funeral could be performed at St Barnabus Church.’

Holmes stared at him in disgust. ‘What about the rings, the dice, the jute with the dynamite?’

‘Oh, those were all real. I planted each and every one of them and you made the deductions that I knew you would. I anticipated the Griess test that you would do to conclude that dynamite was involved. As for the dice, well, I have been making a study of them, you see. All manner of crooked dice are used in my establishments, but I have been considering dice probabilities and looking at the American games of chance. I hoped that you would make the link with the game of craps. It was a test for you.

‘And the rings, well, that was a simple matter of obtaining a duplicate of Sanderson’s ring. It was given to him by the Church actually, not by a secret society. O’Donohue never wore one. I simply put it on his finger after he was eliminated and his body prepared with the little bundle down his throat. I congratulate you, since you followed that all up rather well. Of course, you didn’t realise that you were on a false trail being manipulated by me.

‘Which brings me to our irregulars. Would you be surprised if I told you that the urchin you rewarded with a guinea is called Alfie Decker. He has been very useful to me these last two years.’

Holmes picked up the whisky glass he had dropped and placed it beside the revolver. ‘But what was the purpose of this incredibly elaborate ruse?’

‘Partly to get rid of Sanderson without showing his organisation that I had anything to do with it. Sherlock Holmes would be the person responsible. Which may mean that they will have plans to seek revenge later, but that is an occupational hazard you are already well aware of, of course.’

Holmes stiffened in his chair. ‘You will hang for this, Moriarty. You are putting your neck in the noose with every little piece of information you give me.’

‘I think not, Holmes. You see, it is almost certainly you that will hang. After all of the information that Inspector Munro has been accumulating on you these past two years. So often you have gone beyond your remit as a detective, and you have taken it upon yourself to be judge and executioner as well. He has details of these cases. He has proof, eyewitnesses, physical evidence of all the crimes you have aided and abetted and committed yourself.’

The professor’s head oscillated again and his unblinking eyes seemed to enlarge, reptilian fashion, as if he was going in for the kill.

‘He has bank details of all of the stolen money, lost money and money defrauded from clients. And he has bank clerks who will swear that you had made those deposits in person. You see, you are quite a distinctive fellow. It was a challenge to emulate you, I admit, but as you yourself have seen these two years, I am fairly proficient at disguise and in sustaining a role.’

Holmes sneered. ‘All done with mathematical precision, I see. What is to stop me from tackling you here and now, eliminating you, as you would say?’

‘Firstly, with that arm you would be no match, I assure you. Secondly, if anything happens to me, the dossier falls into the hands of several journalists, who are in my employ already, as well as copies going straight to Scotland Yard. More than that, though,’ he said, draining his whisky, ‘at any time, Inspector Munro could be found dead, murdered, by Sherlock Holmes. Oh, I can arrange that quite easily. A body of the right height and weight can easily be found. How he was murdered would not matter much: a knife in the back, a slit throat or a bullet to the brain. His face would be eaten away by concentrated sulphuric acid, just like the supplies that you have on your chemistry table, which are supplied to you by Benson & Son of Tottenham Court Road. Together with the evidence that Munro had against you, it would be a certainty that you would be convicted and ignominiously executed for his murder. You have undoubted motive, as anyone can see.’

Holmes picked up his pipe and thumbed the bowl. ‘So when do you propose that this is going to happen?’

‘Oh, it will only happen if you choose it,’ Moriarty said, with an innocent smile. ‘If you decide to be sensible and back off, you are free to enjoy your consulting detective practice, accumulate more adulation and feed that enormous ego of yours. One step in my direction, however, or any interference with my organisation and you will be headed for prison and assuredly to the gallows. London is a large city, Holmes. You can ply your trade, just don’t come near my fishing pool.’

He stood and pointed to the violin case propped up against the wall below the bullet-pocked holes that spelled out V.R. for Victoria Regina.