136 – Miss Watson, can you prove it (1)
James Moriarty was silent as he rolled the letter handed to him by Arthur Justice Raffles in his palm like a cat playing with its prey. Did.
His attitude was inappropriate for a young professor at Oxford University, where factional strife was fierce. If an old-fashioned person had seen him, he might have frowned at his undignified behavior.
He arrogantly put his feet up on the desk and lay down with his large armchair half-retracted as a bed.
In his other hand, which was not fiddling with the stationery, he held a thick cigar that was spreading strong smoke throughout the room, but he had no intention of bringing it to his mouth, as if his intention was simply to burn it, not to smoke it.
“Professor, no matter how much you do, you wouldn’t bother me with something as trivial as this… “I hope it doesn’t happen next time.”
The words Raffles grumbled as he handed me this meager letterhead still ring vividly in my ears when I close my eyes.
It was a time when even the gramophone had not been invented, but the memories of past lives where I experienced things that were even greater than that made this easily possible.
When Moran heard those words, he bared his teeth at the insolent thief like a loyal hunting dog and was ready to bite him if he were told to, but Moriarty allowed his insolence.
Raffles, who called himself the Phantom Thief, was just one of the many chess pieces he could manipulate at any time.
Of course, Moriarty readily acknowledged that he was good at stealing. Because accurately understanding the abilities of the target to be used was a necessary skill for someone who handles them.
‘A phantom thief… ….’
It was an expression that could only appear in a novel. But weren’t his students, Miss Watson, and himself in a similar situation?
Of course, there was no confusion between fiction and reality. However, since it is such a meaningful nickname, it may be that they turned a blind eye to Raffles’ antics.
However, just like the memories of his past life, Moriarty could not tell whether Arthur Justice Raffles was a real person from the history he knew, or whether he was similar to Sherlock Holmes.
It seems meaningless now.
However, I did remember hearing that Lupine was famous for being a phantom thief gentleman. Unfortunately, although he knew, subdued or ‘partnered’ with several criminals in France, there was no thief named Lupine.
Should I wait a little longer? I don’t know that.
But as he sat up straighter, Moriarty turned his attention to what might be his new chess piece.
“I had some expectations, but when I read it myself, I was even more disappointed. At best, I didn’t expect you to contact me first with a letter like this. Oh, isn’t that rather surprising?”
Moriarty threw away his letter, placed it on the desk, tapped it with the back of his hand, and opened his mouth. If it was ridicule, it was ridicule.
Since he did not write the letter to anyone, it was difficult to know its exact contents. This is because the threatening letter sent to him indirectly mentioned his reputation and the contents of the letter, which may have been embarrassing.
He couldn’t help but be even more disappointed when he faced the real thing. Perhaps, Holmes, if that child had read this, he would not have been like himself?
At most, it might be able to convict him of trivial tax evasion, but it wasn’t enough to provide even the smallest amount of evidence that the child wanted.
When I thought about that, I thought about sending this letter to the child to make fun of him, but he shook his head. Because he was a kid who would soon get busy.
Although he was mocking, he could still understand the foolish behavior.
“Well, in the end, people only see the world within the limits of what they can see. The same goes for math. Because we cannot imagine problems outside of the axioms. What do you think, Milverton?”
That ridicule actually made sense to Moriarty himself, but he was arrogant and would never admit it.
Instead, James Moriarty turned his gaze to Charles Augustus Milvert, who had just been trembling on his knees, like a slave waiting to be disposed of.
As the reptile-like gaze turned towards him, Milverton trembled like a patient having a seizure, but his instinct for survival made him barely able to open his mouth.
“Sa… Please save me! Ah… No, please save me, teacher! My… I am! I was wrong, I was stupid and didn’t dare to recognize the teacher! I… “I’ll give you all my money, even everything I’ve saved, just for my life!”
“That’s not fun.”
Of course, he was not interested in the pennies that Milverton had saved. He could have taken that amount of money out of dozens of accounts under different names and spent it at any time.
He didn’t have high expectations, but since the game was over, there was no longer any pride or anger in Milverton, who had his men bring him back, and only servitude took over.
Even though he was just ‘politely’ brought in without tying him up with a rope, the sight of him kneeling down and starting to pray as soon as he entered the study where Moran and Moriarty were was just made people laugh.
But this was a thought that only Moriarty, who was far from ordinary, could think of.
It was only then that Charles Augustus Millton realized that he had messed with a being he could not dare to confront.
In the middle of the night, he was startled by gunshots and the sound of someone fighting, and like a ghost, he was horrified to find that a document that could be his lifeline had disappeared from his safe.
More than anything else, he was trembling in the corner of the mansion, lost in his emotions, when he saw the large men dragging him somewhere, not even paying attention to people’s gaze, and only then did he realize that he was completely wrong.
It was now possible to trust even a prime minister or a royal family.
Moriarty lifted her hand to put out her secretly burning cigar. She silently held out the ashtray in front of him as if she had been waiting for him, and as she put out her cigar, Moriarty opened her mouth.
“You are on probation. “I’ll spare your life for the time being.”
“Yes? Ah! Yes buy… Thank you for saving me – yes… Yes?”
Milverton, who was trying to rejoice, felt puzzled by the other person’s words, and had no choice but to ask back like a fool. Moriarty raised the corners of his mouth and spat out.
“You will own nothing now, Milverton, including your life. Of course, act like you did before. They buy information from servants and maids, and use it to blackmail their opponents for a living. But I will manage all of that, and you are now a tool as part of what I do.”
Of course, Moriarty had already ordered several people to do similar work, but there was no harm in having a charlatan acting insidiously in the sun.
Above all, she could be eliminated at any time without raising any suspicion, and since she was the type of person who usually made threats related to political fights or minor scandals, it was easy to get rid of her.
From noble mtl dot com
Charles Augustus Milverton could not protest in any way against the death sentence, which was not the death penalty. Even when two large men led by Moran, who bowed his head and went outside at Moriarty’s glance, came striding in and disappeared, dragging Milverton with them.
It was the moment when the charlatan of London society was reduced to nothing more than a chess piece.
But there was still one most important and anticipated thing to be done.
“Master… …. “Miss Jane Watson is here.”
“Okay. Get ready to welcome guests, Moran. “Because you are a precious guest.”
Even though she bowed her head politely at the words of her beloved master, she was completely unable to manage her expression, as if she unconsciously disapproved.
But because it was her master’s decision, and because it was his own foolish mistake, he had to silently carry out the order.
Even Moran knew that just before she left Milverton’s mansion, her mask came off and a little of her face was revealed to Jane Watson, that damn witch.
In order to make up for her own mistake, she could have dealt with Watson without having to report it. But she couldn’t do that.
She was already at fault of her own in exposing her face, and though she did not like it, the witch, like Holmes, the b*tch, was a being to whom her master showed a little favor and mercy for no reason. Because it was.
As the future mistress of the Moriarty family, Moran had the authority to manage the inside of her household, but she had no intention of arbitrarily handling her husband’s outside affairs. Because if she did something wrong, she might be hated.
However, contrary to Moran’s concerns, Moriarty, who heard her report, could not help but feel somewhat indifferent.
‘Is this what happens in the end?’
“Jane Watson… Shall we handle it? If you command, I will handle it cleanly this time without any mistakes, master.”
“… “No, it’s okay, Peony.”
“… Yes.”
If she had actually been a normal person, Moriarty would have left Moran to her own devices.
But her opponent was Watson.
Holmes and Watson.
In their exact story, the story that existed in their original past life, it is unknown how exactly they clashed and confronted Professor Moriarty.
However, as Watson is Holmes’ eternal assistant, wouldn’t Jane Watson have no choice but to know about James Moriarty’s real job at some point?
On the contrary, I felt a little bit of anticipation. It’s not as good as Holmes’s, but there’s a sense of anticipation that the match has finally been made.
“Gyo… Professor, I received a message from Holmes… I heard a stupid story. The professor was talking drugged nonsense about being a villain and all……. Ah… No, right? Yes?”
As soon as he saw Moriarty, Watson started speaking gibberish and asked with a trembling voice.
Professor James Moriarty smiled and answered.
“Miss Watson, I am a villain… …. “Can you prove it?”
