Ted Riccardi - Between the Thames and the Tiber

The master criminal, however, differs considerably. He is mentally free of social influences, often transcends their bonds, and with a logic impenetrable to the ordinary observer, creates continual havoc, thereby reducing an unsuspecting society to fear and trembling, one without the will to fight. The master criminal, often born to privilege, can cause catastrophes well beyond those that are normally considered to be at the limits of human evil. Indeed, it is no wonder, wrote Holmes, with great insight, that crime and politics go hand in hand. What, after all, is the tyrant but a criminal politician gone insane?

“The criminal genius is a rare bird, however,” said Homes one afternoon as he read through the piles of congratulatory letters that reached our flat every day. “In fact,” he said with a smile, “my paper has so annoyed the world’s criminal geniuses—there are but five who are left—that three have already made fatal errors, of which I have taken full advantage to put them behind bars. The two who remain are a rather odd couple who will pool their resources in order to do me in—”

With these last words scarcely out of his mouth, Holmes leaped into the air, throwing a large white envelope across the room with all the strength he could muster.

“What is it, Holmes?” I asked in fear.

“You know the poison called upas? The deadliest gift one human being can give to another? The faint sweet odor reminiscent of cardamom is the immediate clue. That letter you see lying there could kill everyone living within a kilometre of our sitting room had I opened it and allowed its contents to circulate in the air. It is not alive, Watson, but we must treat it as if it were some dangerous animal. Luckily, I know it well.”

Holmes put on a thick pair of gloves and placed the offending envelope in a container that he had lined with lead for use in cases such as this one. He twisted the lid as tight as he could, and put it behind a set of Scott’s novels where it would remain until he could dispose of it.

“There now, Watson. Enough of these letters for a while. God only knows what horrors may still lurk in them. Perhaps I shall ask Lestrade to give them over to the laboratory at Scotland Yard for preliminary examination. I hope they can do it without killing us all,” he murmured as he lit his pipe.

“But what do we do for the long run?” I asked with concern. “Surely, the two remaining geniuses as you call them will eventually do you in. We must take some precautions for your safety.”

“Quite so, my dear fellow. That poisoned epistle shows clearly that they will not stop until they have destroyed me—and you as well.”

I smiled. “Let them try, then. And who are they?

Holmes puffed slowly on his pipe. “A singular duo, Watson, of the greatest criminal intelligence, but distorted for reasons only partially known to me as yet, though I have some evidence that they prepared under Moriarty himself. Protected by their highly placed acolytes, they move wherever they wish in Europe, amassing untold wealth and power. Their chief theatre of operations has been France until recently, but now they have begun to shift here to London. I am sure the poisoned envelope was meant not only as a declaration of war, but also as an announcement to me of their arrival in the high society of London. One of their underlings has twice served as a colonial officer on the island of Macassar, and has a specialized knowledge of tropical poisons.”

“And where are they from, these criminals? And what do they call themselves?”

“They are by name René and Jeanne Rouxmont.”

“And what are their special interests in crime?”

“Almost everything. They have amassed the world’s largest collections of paintings, particularly Renaissance Italian painting of the Caravaggio school. All of this is now stored in one of their large Medici palaces near Florence, the most splendid of which has become their latest abode. They were present at my talk at the Accademia and were infuriated by my remarks. I must say in all modesty, old boy, that it is possible that I am the reason for their change to London.”

“Curious,” said I, “but I don’t recall any reference to them in your paper.”

“I could not refer to them directly, Watson, since they were seated in the front row, very elegantly and appropriately attired and accompanied by a veritable retinue of criminal admirers. They are a talented and vicious lot. Remember too that there exists always the problem of evidence sufficient to convict. Without such evidence, any attempt to expose them is met with incredulity by the police as well as the demi-monde in which they live. They are, to say the least, an odd couple, but their oddity only adds to their unbounded appetites. It is true too that at this fin de siècle period what they are matters not in the least. It is what they do that must be addressed, for it is an ever widening nightmare for all of those who should be unfortunate enough to come within their purview.”

Holmes went over to his scrapbooks where he kept files on all the criminal horrors referred to in print.

“Here, Watson, is one of the few photographs of them that exists,” he said, handing me one of his scrapbooks.

I saw a woman who towered over her companion and who looked twice his age.

“They are most odd,” I said, “and rather unattractive to boot.”

“Indeed,” he said. “She is tall and thin, frighteningly pale, her face puckered with wrinkles caused by a powerful acid thrown at her in childhood by an angry relation. The image of her that I carry around with me is not that of a human being but of a high-backed chair, one with wooden arms and legs and tattered upholstery at the top. He, on the other hand, is more human, but in appearance only. He is a rather stout man of half her height. In real life he has a broad face, pinkish in color, half bald, the only clue to his brain being his cruel grey eyes. He is an excellent shot and carries a weapon at all times, but uses it only in moments of crisis. As with all master criminals, the Rouxmonts require that the crime itself be committed by one of their henchmen. They themselves are the leaders of the gang. They plan and conceive, but do not execute. In this way, they maintain the appearance as well as a certain distance from their foul deeds. As chief disciples, they of course revere the memory of the late Professor James Moriarty.”

Holmes became silent for a moment as he paced back and forth, his pipe firmly between his teeth.

“Their weaknesses? There are two. They are brilliant in conception but irregular, even lax, in the execution of their crimes. To put it bluntly, they do not prepare well. Second, they believe erroneously in their own invincibility. Another blunder. They remind one of a playwright, who writes the play and delivers it to the director, who hires the actors to perform it. Having conceived of the play, the odd couple then purchase tickets, so to speak, and sit in the audience watching it as if it is the work of others. It is only at the very end of the chain that they have created that they become active again. At this juncture they evaluate the loot and take their share, which I have been told sometimes reaches a staggering ninety per cent. To defeat them I have a plan, of which you will be the chief executor. After me, of course.”

“And what is it, Holmes?”

“First, you must announce my retirement. Preposterous, you say? Not at all, dear Watson. The time will come when we both think of retirement as a necessity. Even at this early moment, however, it is plausible that I remove myself from the fray. We must make it completely believable if I am to succeed in destroying this strange couple. Do you recall that small cottage in Sussex where we stayed for a few weeks? I think it might be the perfect spot in which to disappear for a time. As I recall, it is isolated but not far from an old Norman ruin still inhabited by friendly people. Let us go there this afternoon and see if it is available to us. I shall reveal to you more of my plans once we are on the train. Come along, old fellow. In time you will see your friend disappear into a number of disguises.”