40 – Gambling addict, Watson (1)
Securing most of London’s underworld after five years was a stunning achievement, yet Moriarty was still unsatisfied.
What he wanted was not just London, but everything. As a teacher, he had to reach even further for his beloved student who would visit him as the greatest detective.
Lately, his last target in London had been the City of London. However, unlike the West End or the East End, the place was virtually unreachable.
Although there were gangs and ruffians, it was like trying to squeeze water in hand to take hold of a place essentially inhabited by numerous financiers, businessmen, and politicians receiving their lobby.
Therefore, Moriarty was frequently visiting a private gambling house near Downing Street, using his external reputation as an Oxford university professor and a successful investor.
The gambling house, which had been functioning for over ten years as a social club for various financiers and politicians in London, including those stationed in Downing Street, was a public secret within politics. During the last visit, he even enjoyed playing cards while having a conversation with several ministers from the Stanley-Smith cabinet.
Gambling, like the rest of British society under old, conventional widow Victoria, was hypocritical.
Thanks to the Queen, who emphasized morals, British society was always solemn, emphasizing morals. Naturally, the British loved contradiction, so it was only at the surface.
For instance, the elegant gentlemen who commonly visited places to share a traditional hobby of getting whipped by women, or the politicians and noblemen who frequently visited establishments where poor post-office boys were selling their bodies, were just like that.
Gambling was no different. People living in the era of Victoria always described gambling as evil and warned it as something that brings doom as soon as you touch it, and yet racecourses were always full of enthusiastic people, and money-related card games and various gambles were prevalent everywhere in social clubs under the guise of a gentlemanly hobby.
This place was no exception.
However, what Moriarty was after was the roster containing the list of customers. Although it had found its place as a public secret and was occasionally a place where politicians and socialites exchanged information, there were also non-rare cases where considerable amounts of gambling passed by and became scandals.
Moriarty briefly tweaked the domino mask covering only his eyes and examined the faces of the old politicians having a conversation with him.
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After the light card game, in a separate lounge, they were drinking and talking about the world.
Ironically, this place was a sort of forbidden area. If made public, it would potentially be widely criticized, so everyone wore domino masks covering their eyes like at a masquerade and called each other not by their real names, but by fake names or nicknames they had chosen.
Of course, it was more of a clumsy game, so the elders Moriarty was talking to knew who Moriarty was, and vice versa.
“I can see that Mr. Smith is having a hard time these days.”
“That’s right, professor. The political scene is currently in chaos due to the bombs of the Irish gangsters. People like Gladstone stand up, and everyone is in a headache now.”
The professor, of course, was the pseudonym Moriarty casually put forth. Mr. Smith, who had disguised himself, was currently one of the cabinet ministers.
On top of that, he was one of the politicians who periodically received a small amount of cooperative funds from Moriarty.
“The Irish problem will lead to a fight in politics for a while, and I already have a headache, professor. Oh, if I’ve been rude, I apologize.”
“Well, we’re all Brits, aren’t we, no matter where we were born?”
“hahahaha, you’re right. If everyone was like the professor, that’d be great. Anyway…harrumph, I’ve noticed that Colonel Moriarty might be promoted to lieutenant colonel soon. I did the investigation personally because I like the professor. Indeed, both brothers are talents for the nation.”
Moriarty’s brother was currently a military man. Apparently he was talented as a military man because, as Mr. Smith said, he is being promoted rapidly.
Of course, Moriarty didn’t have any strong feelings for his brother as a family, but he pretended to listen with a smile.
Fortunately, some other people were looking for Mr. Smith, and he was able to end the boring conversation soon. Since he still had time, Moriarty found a place where those who wanted a new card game were sitting and headed there.
“Ahh, Professor, long time no see! We were looking for one person, it worked out well!”
“You too, long time no see. Ah, can I join the game?”
“We’ve been waiting to play Whist. You’re obviously welcome, er…Professor, right?”
The reason Moriarty headed there was because he found a familiar face. Of course, the other person also knew Moriarty and knew about Moriarty at this club.
The young man’s real name was John Clay. He was a student currently attending Oxford University and while not a mathematics department student, he was a student who had taken several classes from Moriarty and had a personal relationship with him.
His grandfather was a duke and he was a child of a noble family, but he was a crooked lad who was as smart as his head but didn’t match his good head, and Moriarty was currently considering offering him a job.
“Yes, you can call me Professor. You seem new here, is this your first visit?”
“…So, call me Jules Verne.”
“Alright, Mr. Verne.”
“Let’s start with the cards.”
One of the two men with Clay wasn’t entirely a stranger, though he wasn’t someone worth remembering, so they exchanged light pleasantries.
But the man next to him, a sturdy man in his late thirties, was a stranger, and they chatted a bit longer.
However, the man who used the pseudonym Jules Verne fiddled with his deck impatiently, suggesting he’d rather bypass the small talk and start the Whist game. He began dealing as soon as Moriarty took a seat.
For a while, they had to focus on playing Whist. The game required four people and a bit of strategy, which is why it was popular in several social clubs and a common target for gambling.
Moriarty usually won, but his opponent showed considerable skill. They continued their social conversation while Moriarty observed the unfamiliar man.
“You’re a professor; a scholar, right?”
“Just teaching a bit…what do you do?”
“Nothing in particular. I merely occupy myself with Whist. My friend introduced me to this place; it is nicer than I expected.”
Looking at the strong-built man with JP-style tattoos peeking from his right sleeve, Moriarty surmised he was likely a sailor and smiled.
“Everyone says that when they first come here. It’s a good place.”
“Too bad it’s quite far from my mansion. I walked 1584 steps to get here. Quite a bother, I might need to revise my daily schedule.”
“You like having a schedule?”
“I detest wasted time. So, let’s start the next game—”
“Ah, sorry. Someone is waiting for me. I ought to vacate my seat. We’ll meet again.”
Under ordinary circumstances, Moriarty would have avoided interrupting social interactions due to his reputation, but he had no choice.
He’d spotted someone unexpectedly at a distance.
A disappointed sigh sounded behind him, but Moriarty ignored it and calmly spoke to the silvery-haired girl, touching the Domino mask covering her eyes as if afraid it would come off.
“We meet again.”
“Ah…… Ah!”
“From the Clerkenwell Clock Repair Shop, right? You can call me professor.”
“Ah, yes. You can call me Hamish, professor.”
The girl, easily identifiable as Watson, seemed disconcerted but seemed to remember Moriarty.
Moriarty gently extended an invitation, and Watson appeared somewhat relieved as she nodded.
Despite their brief encounter at the clock repair shop, seeing a familiar face seemed to put her at ease.
However, why was this girl, no, this little witch, here? This was not a place that anyone could enter, so Moriarty asked.
“But… Hamish, this isn’t exactly a place for a child to come alone. Are you looking for someone?”
“Ah……I was looking for a family member. It seems I arrived too early.”
“Then, while you’re waiting, why don’t you join me, Hamish? If it isn’t impolite.”
“Ah…no, you don’t have to. I mean…”
“As a professor, I can’t bear leaving young students alone. If you feel uncomfortable, you could pass the time with a simple game of chance?”
Without Moran around, Watson didn’t outright reject Moriarty’s proposal. Moriarty was pleased about how useful his face could be in this instance.
Watson, unable to know what Moriarty was thinking, hesitated and finally admitted, her face flushing slightly.
“…I’ll accept the sentiment behind your offer, but I don’t have enough money. I only have enough for my carriage ride back.”
“I’ll lend you some. There’s no need to repay it. After all, I came here intending to lose money.”
Overwhelmed by Moriarty’s continued offers, Watson unexpectedly felt her eyes light up, and she gave a small nod. Moriarty guided her to a nearby baccarat table.
“Side betting, do you want to try, Ray—”
– Thud!
“Of course! All of it!”
“Um… There’s no need for you to bet, my Lady. I’ll give you a special chance to back out now.”
“No! Of course, I’ll have to place the bet!”
Even the dealer, who was leading the game, sincerely asked her due to Watson’s momentum, but Watson, unable to control her excitement, shouted out loud.
Unable to stand it any longer, Moriarty tried to stop her from the side.
“Bankers traditionally exhibit caution, Ms. Hamish. There’s no need to bet the money, the chances of losing are higher in the first place.”
“But my opponent is provoking me, Professor! The stakes have to be high for money to be won, let’s go! This time, I can really win!”
In her first ever gamble, Moriarty soon found out that Miss Watson was, in truth, born with a gambler’s innate qualities.
