44 – Gambling Addict, Watson (5)
Moriarty thought to himself that this was truly a unique man.
Despite Raffles and Porlock’s proposal to spruce up Watson’s unfortunate situation, in the midst of everyone shedding their facades and running outside to live, the man who was using the alias of Verne focused solely on enjoying his hand in Whist even a bit longer.
The man who used the alias, Verne, was silent for a moment, looking intently at Moriarty as though trying to read his inner thoughts. Moriarty, who was usually the observer, found this a somewhat novel experience.
Although the silence only lasted for less than a second, it felt much longer due to the noise of the fire and evacuation.
Had he already understood from Moriarty’s proposal what he was trying to do? Verne quietly put down his cards and answered with a nod.
“Good luck. I saw earlier that he slipped the contract into his sleeve. Now, Mr. Watson, let’s get out of here quickly.”
“What? Wa…wait a moment! Professor? Mr. Moriarty?”
Ignoring Mr. Watson’s cry, Moriarty briskly ran in the opposite direction of the crowd.
There was nobody who could maintain order in the now chaotic gambling den. Even the security guards had no choice but to prioritize the safety of their high-ranking guests, so nobody noticed or stopped Moriarty from rushing towards the room where Quilp would be.
‘Good luck.’
Moriarty thought as he ran. He hadn’t run much, but he was already short of breath, leading him to wonder if he could indulge in some light physical training despite his aversion to outdoor activities, but his good fortune remained unchanged.
It was truly an unanticipated event.
Moriarty liked planning and absolutely detested unexpected variables.
However, if such a change was beneficial to him, it was naturally welcomed.
It was a great situation that Watson’s brother turned out to be such a trashy character. The fact that he borrowed money from Quilp today and that Watson knew about it was truly fortunate.
He felt like offering a prayer of gratitude. Especially on the day he planned to attack Quilp, this alignment of circumstances seemed a confirmation that the path he was on was right.
As he ran down the rather long corridor, the smoke was getting thicker, but Moriarty kept running, covering his mouth and nose without batting an eye.
It was an ‘adventure’ that could only be possible because he knew from the start that they hadn’t really created a big fire.
Naturally, when he arrived at the end, when he arrived at Quilp’s room he had been yearning for, he encountered an unconscious Quilp and guards on the floor, and Raffles and Porlock who had almost entirely cleaned the place out.
“Oh? Professor, an emergency?”
Facing the unexpected visitor, Porlock spoke first. Trustworthy as a subordinate of the professor, he didn’t forget to maintain vigilance around them.
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Moriarty nodded lightly.
“No. I just have something extra to take care of. You packed all the promissory notes Quilp had, right?”
“Of course, Professor. A business is a business, we do it properly. This is A. Justice. Raffles’s professional spirit.”
“Find the promissory note written in the name of Henry Watson and hand it over. It was written today, so you should be able to find it quickly. And Porlock, check the dwarf’s clothes.”
Porlock was a loyal subordinate, and Raffles, being a professional, carried out Moriarty’s orders without questioning why.
Fortunately, they were able to obtain the promissory note right away. It was a relief that they could finish before people started gathering.
With a satisfied look, Moriarty tucked the promissory note, which proved Henry Watson had borrowed money, into his pocket and stepped outside.
The sudden fire and the sound of explosion caused many people from the gambling house at Downing Street to flee and attract the attention of passers-by.
The situation turned into a chaos, with firefighters rushing to put out the fire, police officers running frantically due to the news of a bomb, and jobless journalists loitering around Downing Street for news.
Jane Watson could not help but stare at the gambling house she had just run out of, standing next to Mr. Vern in the midst of such chaos.
Although the building itself was not burned, white smoke was pouring out endlessly, making it impossible not to worry about the people inside.
“Mr. Moriarty….”
Watson murmured without realizing it.
Despite first meeting him, he was kind to her, a peculiar man. But Watson couldn’t help but find his strange charm attractive, largely due to his good looks and demeanor.
Above all, his desire to help her in such difficult circumstances felt like a knight trying to save a princess in a story.
And yet he was still inside. Why?
Watson couldn’t help but wonder.
Of course, she did have hopeful thoughts. But she reassured herself it was just a fleeting fantasy due to her desperate circumstance.
It was impossible not to. It was such a childish fantasy. There’s no way such a fairy-tale event could happen in reality.
So why was he there?
At that moment, Watson was only worried about Moriarty. There was no concern for Henry or anyone who didn’t act like her brother.
“We should’ve been enjoying the Whist game till 4:45…… Our schedule is messed up today. Oh, Miss Watson, don’t worry too much, he’ll be out soon.”
“Oh, thank you, Mr. Vern.”
Watson finally regained her senses upon Vern’s words.
And soon a smile appeared on her face as she gazed at the gambling house. A man was leisurely walking towards them.
He looked the same as when she said goodbye. His dark, almost black hair was orderly, and his thoughtful gaze shone through the dominos’ mask.
Even a glance at his uniform was enough to tell he was a handsome man.
“Mr. Moriarty!”
“It looks like you got out safely, Miss Watson. And you too, Mr. Vern.”
“Did you accomplish your goal?”
“Yes, it wasn’t a proper fire to begin with, so it should be extinguished soon. Mr Qulip seems to have momentarily fainted because of the sudden accident. I was able to retrieve it on my way out.”
Until Moriarty handed over a piece of paper, Watson could not understand the conversation between Moriarty and Mr. Vern.
However, as she realized what was in the document he presented, she couldn’t help but stare at Mr Moriarty in surprise.
“This…what is this?”
“It seems a promissory note that someone had written has accidentally been burned in the fire, Miss Watson. Isn’t that right, Mr Vern?”
“That seems to be the case. I was just lighting a cigarette and it worked out well.”
Vern lit a match, lit his cigarette, and then burned the promissory note in Moriarty’s hand, proving that Henry borrowed the money.
Watson could not speak, even though she understood what this scene meant. Was it the overwhelming emotion?
Perhaps the young girl who had journeyed between heaven and hell in a few hours was not yet ready to fully grasp the experience.
With a deep breath, Watson managed to hold back tears and could only utter words of gratitude. Although she felt selfish to still be worried about her future, she had no choice but to share her concerns with the most trustworthy person she had at that moment.
“But…is this really okay? Mr. Qulip will surely remember, and my brother too…”
“There is no original document, is there? And even if we go to court, it is an illegal contract, so it’s okay, Miss Watson. If you’re still worried, I will help.”
“That’s right. This gentleman’s words are correct, I’ll also help.”
With Mr. Vern’s confirmation, the expression on Miss Watson’s face finally brightened.
Of course, Moriarty knew full well that all of this was a lie.
Quilp had undoubtedly made illegal dealings. Yet, Quilp, with his connections to high-ranking individuals and means to threaten them, was occasionally able to control the court. Even Mr. Bern likely wasn’t fully aware of these circumstances.
But, it was not a falsehood.
After today, Quilp would no longer be under the protection of influential persons. The newspapers planned to spread articles about the immoral private gambling establishments of politicians the next day, and as such, the Stanley-Smith administration was destined to fall.
Especially, Mr. Daniel Quilp was scheduled to be missing under unexplained circumstances, so there was clearly no one to sue Watson.
Watson, unaware of these circumstances, genuinely smiled brightly, repeatedly bowing her head to Moriarty.
“Really, thank you for helping me out today, Miss Moriarty. And…Mr. Bern.”
“It’s Phileas Fogg, Miss Watson. Bern is just an alias. Indeed, this was a gentlemanly affair today, right… Professor Moriarty?”
“Ah, yes, thank you, Mr. Fogg.”
The gentleman identifying himself as Phileas gave a simple business card to Moriarty.
“I suppose we won’t be able to enjoy Whist here any longer. I usually reside in the Reform Club so when the opportunity arises, do come by. It would be nice to enjoy Whist together. With that card, you’ll be able to gain access.”
With that, Mr. Fogg left the two behind, briskly strolling off somewhere, twirling his cane.
For Moriarty, this was understandably surprising.
The Reform Club is among the many clubs in London, exclusive to the upper echelons, with the strictest entry requirements.
It was a pleasant acquaintance and an opportunity. With such thoughts, she shifted her gaze back to Watson.
“Thank you once again for everything today, Miss Moriarty. I will jot this down in my diary and always carry this memory with me. I swear I will never forget this.”
“I simply assisted someone in trouble, Miss Watson.”
“Um…can we meet again in the future?”
Undoubtedly, it would be beneficial to continue to establish a personal connection with Watson. That was the objective from the very beginning.
With a faint smile, Moriarty gave a small nod. Watson, while watching this, could not help but beam a youthful, radiant smile typical of her age.
“Didn’t I say that I would help resolve the issue regarding Watson’s… elder brother, didn’t I?”
“That’s…right. This cannot be overlooked. For the sake of preserving the remaining memories of our parents… I must…”
With that, the fate of Henry Watson, Watson’s brother, was also decided.
Months later, he was sentenced to house arrest in the Old Bailey court in London, forcibly confined to a convalescent center, and passed away a few years later as an alcoholic.
All were tragic coincidences.
Watson cautiously opened her mouth, trying to conceal her pounding heart by placing her hand on her chest.
It all felt like a dream, like meeting a knight who comes to the rescue of a maiden in a fairytale, her very own knight.
“So… can we meet even if it’s not for business?”
“Well, you seem to have quite an interest in gambling, why not accompany me to the horse races sometime, Miss Watson?”
“That…that was a simple mistake! It’s not… it’s not bad, um… are you trying to flirt with me?”
“Oh, I’m a celibate.”
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“Oh…That’s a shame, many ladies will be disappointed.”
Of course, this included Watson herself.
But then, she remembered she was only 15 years old. She intuitively felt a long connection with the man before her.
So, time was plentiful. There was voluminous time with this wonderful knight.
According to Moriarty’s ‘prediction’, the next day the newspapers were busy covering the scandal about the private gambling establishment near the official residence, many people were hit hard.
Naturally, this included Daniel Quilp’s downfall. Some reporters tried to find his whereabouts, but even traces of the dwarf were nowhere to be found.
Someone said that Daniel Quilp had fled to Europe across Dover in the middle of the night, someone else said that he had escaped to America. Some even insisted that Daniel Quilp didn’t exist to begin with, while others claimed that politicians who had connections with him had murdered Daniel Quilp and hidden the body.
The truth is, no one knew for sure.
Just later, several months down the line, an unidentifiable corpse, missing its head and limbs, was found on the Thames River. There were horrific signs of torture, seemingly by a razor blade, and slight surgical knowledge was demonstrated on the body.
Just as it was with many unidentified bodies found in the River Thames, no one really showed significant interest. They merely assumed that a reckless medical student must have played some nasty prank on the donated cadaver.
London was as peaceful as ever.
