219 – Catastrophe (2)
James Moriarty knew very well that he was not normal. Of course, given that he experienced being reborn and had memories of living in a completely different world, he was bound to be far from ordinary in the first place.
He often thinks about it. When he thought rationally, the more correct interpretation was that the memories he had were in fact delusions created by his own brain. No matter how much he remembered his past life or life in another world, it was more plausible to interpret that he was mentally ill to believe that it was real.
Of course, Moriarty himself could not give a clear answer. Just as the world after his death or metaphysical problems were things that could not be answered on their own, the memories and questions he had were also of a similar type.
Perhaps there are people in this world other than Moriarty who share similar memories and origins. He may have been around, he may still be around Moriarty, or he may be born in the future. But there was no way to check that.
He had never met a psychopath who said such things, and even if he had, it was only things that were difficult to prove, like difficult math problems.
There was only one thing that was certain. Moriarty himself hated living an ordinary, boring life.
Did he really have any other options when he met his disciple?
I don’t know the original work. Perhaps the old Professor James Moriarty and his nemesis, the detective in the original, did not meet as children.
But as a result, Moriarty himself created his own archenemy. He did not think of it as fate or a set path. However, he was confident that even if he could turn back time, he would always make the same choice.
Thinking about his life before that, he was so terribly bored that he would have rather hanged himself.
After all, it was fun to commit crimes. He secretly looked at the map of London spread out on his desk and enjoyed the fact once again. It was so much fun to create riddles and create confusion.
I became even more excited when I imagined that my student was probably still running around here and there trying to somehow solve the mystery.
But even if selfishness was involved, work was still work. He was silently listening to the report that Moran, who was watching him calmly, gave as cool-headedly as usual.
“This is a report that Mycroft Holmes was in contact with Professor Van Helsing. He said that no matter how late he caught it, they had been meeting several times since a week ago.”
“Even though we solved a lot of people, the results were worse than expected. Well, I know it can’t be helped due to the limitations of the tool, but it’s inefficient. For now… Stop spying on Mycroft Holmes, Moran. “Even if we find out his location, it won’t be of much help.”
“Yes, master.”
In response to Moriarty’s command, Moran immediately bowed his head without any doubt. James Moriarty didn’t even pay attention to Moran.
He clicked his tongue unconsciously at the thought of inefficient waste. Mycroft Holmes was also now one of the obstacles he had to be aware of, but perhaps because of his lazy nature, most of his attempts to monitor him were fruitless.
Watching the owner like that, Moran was satisfied for the time being while staying by the owner’s side, who still had no feelings for her and literally did not pay much attention to her.
This place right now is like a small world just for the two of us.
But soon, as always, an uninvited guest came. Although Moran did not always show it, it was the visit of someone who interrupted the couple’s time, and Moran, who was also her maid, had to leave the owner and go out to greet the guests.
If she had not been trained well, Moran might have frowned at the appearance of an unpleasant guest without realizing it. However, since it was a matter related to her host’s honor, she greeted her guests with her usual cold expression.
John Clay. It was a visit from one of those who frequently visit the owner.
The master was arrogant because he was born into a noble family, and he literally had no idea about the world. As always, he did not bother to hide his displeasure as soon as he saw Moran. To a man named John Clay, in fact, most of James Moriarty’s gang were the scum of the bottom of society with whom it was unpleasant to interact.
As such, it was clearly unusual for him to treat only Professor James Moriarty, who was observing the map under Moran’s guidance, as if he were his superior.
No, Moran took it for granted. Because the master was a strong man and the king of a huge kingdom.
Those who know Clay might have been surprised to see John Clay politely greeting Professor James Moriarty.
And as if it were natural, as if he were dealing with a subordinate, without taking his eyes off the map, Moriarty opened his mouth.
“What’s going on, Clay? “I heard he plans to focus on the Redhead Club for a while.”
“Things are going according to plan, Professor.”
At the same time, John Clay sat down on the chair that was originally supposed to be used by James Moriarty, the head of several chairs in the drawing room, and crossed his legs.
Seeing that, Moran unconsciously bit his lip, but went out to the kitchen to serve the guests, and in the meantime, Moriarty opened his mouth again.
“No matter how much you manipulate the documents and disguise yourself, you’d better be careful. Those with keen eyesight will be able to see that work beyond this scale is underway.”
“Ordinary idiots wouldn’t even be interested. Professor, wasn’t it your plan to use that from the beginning? If I hadn’t been supervising the construction, it would have been hard to believe. “What kind of crazy person would think of digging a tunnel all the way to a bank in the middle of London?”
Moriarty sighed and raised his head at the strangely sarcastic remark. For the first time since Clay’s visit, the two men, professor and student, could look at each other.
Of course, it was always a complaint every time the guy came, so Moriarty opened his mouth without thinking about it.
“It looks like you’re still dissatisfied because you made me play with the dirt.”
“Not really. Rather… It would be nice to be able to increase the professor’s trust. “More than anything, I suggested this, right?”
“So what brought you here?”
Clay was a born criminal, a senior in the industry and a follower of the king, but Moriarty knew that he was also capable of moving quite efficiently. That was why things proceeded the way he wanted in the first place.
As such, he was not the type of guy who would blindly come to him without any reason.
Clay answered Moriarty’s question by raising the corner of her mouth.
“Was it your favorite woman, Holmes? Clowns who wear trousers like street prostitutes and hang around with vulgar witches, playing with each other. He came to Javert Wilson’s store. Thanks to you, we were able to talk a few words. “It was a fun experience, I’m not in a position to talk to a woman on the street.”
Moriarty let out a small sigh at the childlike, arrogant complaint. John Clay flinched as if such a reaction had stimulated his pride, but he remained silent for now, as if he could not offend his superiors.
Moriarty felt like he was dealing with a really immature rich kid. Clay was definitely a smart guy, or at least not stupid, but he had a tendency to blindly trust himself.
He still did not understand why Holmes was special, and he was often dissatisfied with Moriarty, who thought so.
But in Moriarty’s eyes, all he saw was a little boy who was begging her to acknowledge him instead of the woman.
“Then there is a need to be moderately cautious. “I say this repeatedly, but if you underestimate that child too much, he will get hurt someday.”
“… These are your words, so keep them in mind. But one question arose.”
“What’s the problem?”
“Did the professor directly tell her about the Red Hair Club?”
It was a question, but we both already knew the answer. But what’s the problem? Moriarty smiled.
“Is there a problem?”
“Because I don’t understand. Well, you must have a great reason. But why bother telling that woman… Was there a need to first tell us about the existence of the club? I don’t completely agree with her professor’s assessment of the woman, but it seems true that she does some low-level detective work and has a bunch of annoying cops around. “Isn’t it dangerous?”
“Are you afraid that something might go wrong?”
“It can’t be!”
As if his pride had been touched, Clay suddenly got angry and stood up without realizing it. Moran, who had just returned to the study with a drink, glared at him with a murderous look in his rude attitude, but Clay only stared at Moriarty.
“… Well, maybe there’s no need to do that.”
Moriarty answered leisurely.
“Honestly, it’s also because of my personal enjoyment. But Clay, that kid is also deeply involved with Mycroft Holmes. You know who that is, right?”
From noble mtl dot com
“… You mean Her Majesty’s favorite? “They say I already have a lot of enemies because I’m wandering around here and there.”
“Because we need to look away from that side. “There is something I’m personally working on in connection with this, but I’m not obligated to tell you, right?”
Clay hesitated for a moment, as if he was still dissatisfied with Moriarty’s answer, but soon sighed and said that he would go back.
There was no send-off from the owner.
Sipping the tea Moran brought her, Moriarty took a moment to collect her thoughts. He had no choice but to relax.
Unless information was leaked somewhere, even if the child ran around here and there, he had no choice but to be one step late.
Imagining Holmes’ expression at that time, he was able to smile happily as a teacher. Of course, Moran was secretly dissatisfied that the owner was thinking of other women, but stayed by her side.
Meanwhile, Holmes visited the Redhead Club again, taking Watson with him.
