48 – Reunion with the Professor was the Worst (3)
– Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Four rapid gunshots echoed.
However, Mycroft Holmes, with no change in his expression, calmly carried the tray prepared with tea, teacups, and treats into the room from where the gunshots resounded.
“It’s boring! I said it’s boring!”
The young woman who seemed to have been waiting for Mycroft, Sherlock, who was now of age yet still showed traces of a girl, yelled out.
Of course, Mycroft neatly ignored his sister’s tantrum and placed the tray on the table.
Ignoring his pathetic younger sister who was lying on the armchair, holding an empty bottle of alcohol in one hand and a still hot pistol in the other, Mycroft turned his gaze towards the wall that his sister had taken aim at.
Naturally, it already had multiple bullet holes. The gunshot Mycroft had heard was the fourth time, unfortunately, the four holes were not all. Thanks to his poor and pathetic sister’s sketches to kill time every time she visited his house, a V-shaped hole made by bullets was imprinted on the wall.
“Like I always say, Sherlock, this house pays a monthly rent of 1 guinea and 3 shillings (*1 guinea=1 pound 1 shilling). Initially, it was 18 shillings. Thanks to your vandalism, I asked for the landlord’s understanding and we agreed to increase it by just 6 shillings.”
“The income from Mycroft isn’t an issue anyway, what’s important is you! It’s so boring, so boring! What on earth is that fellow plotting?”
Seeing the blithe youngest member who isn’t focusing on her words, Mycroft let out a light sigh and sat near Sherlock, pouring tea into a teacup.
Though Mycroft was still a youth of 25 years, as the elder brother, he had a duty to properly guide his immature sibling.
Thanks to her slight talent, Mycroft was able to handle quite important tasks at an early age.
However, maintaining such positions naturally meant having frequent meetings with prominent figures, tolerating more and more criticism about her immature sister recently.
Of course, Mycroft had no intention of blaming her sister for these issues. From her childhood, she was leisurely and had a good temperament. Her substantial physique spoke volumes about her natural disposition.
Nevertheless, as a brother, she had a duty to welcome her sister, who had come to London from Oxford to spend the weekend. Above all, Sherlock was inevitably a constant concern for Mycroft, so she naturally asked for her well-being.
“So, what’s the reason for you behaving like this since Saturday noon, Sherlock? Morphine? Cocaine, this time around?”
“Just a mix of this and that with Mariani’s wine. That’s not the point, Mycroft! Brother, isn’t it strange? Everything became boring all of a sudden in September, even this London alone, a city teeming with splendid crime became quiet in a moment! It’s boring!”
Even though Sherlock was physically hearty thanks to having fairies among her ancestors and didn’t get drunk easily, her sister appeared half drunk in front of Mycroft. Notwithstanding, Mycroft pointed out her sister’s problematic statement without changing her expression.
“If cultured people hear your reckless remarks, everyone will take issue, Sherlock. It’s better if there’s no crime. The government officials always have a headache because of increasing accidents and crimes.”
Sherlock, of course, didn’t show interest in her brother’s words and discreetly started stuffing tobacco into her pipe.
Mycroft, not even sighing at her sister’s attitude, which she knew all too well as a family member, spit out the words she really wanted to say to her.
“But last week, Her Majesty invited me for tea, and your tale came up, Sherlock.”
“The widow took interest in me?”
From noble mtl dot com
“Watch your words. Perhaps because Her Majesty’s youngest son is attending university this year, she seems overly attentive. Naturally, she pays attention to the rumors around the school and the people there but, she seemed not so fond of your conduct. Luckily, because you’re my sister, she let it slide. However, at least I hope you refrain from doing drugs in the schoolyard.”
“That’s all because of him. By the way, you said the queen is just a stuffy old fogey, Mycroft. What does it matter if I’m neither demonstrating socialism or advocating women’s suffrage?”
“Sigh…I merely said she’s a bit conservative, Sherlock. That expression wasn’t used.”
“It’s the same thing. It’s only a problem that everyone can vote freely, Mycroft! It’s almost like giving idiots a chance to commit suicide! If now, everything is taken away, and only I, you Mycroft, and Moriarty, only the three of us are left to decide everything, the world will surely improve.”
“…I can’t agree. You’re drunk right now, Sherlock.”
On drugs, alcohol, or something else.
Mycroft did not append her last words.
Of course, Sherlock was an immature sister. But Mycroft knew why she was reaching out, so washed out and disappointed, drowning in anxiety.
But Mycroft knew mentioning this topic would be headache-inducing for both of them, so she tried to bring up another subject.
“Anyway, everyone has their own complicated issues. As your elder brother, I just meant that you should take care of your health and steer clear of accidents. As you say, September surely has been quiet, but these days, we are dealing with gatherings of socialists, anarchists, or self-proclaimed communists, demonstrations, and attempted riots. The illegal funds flowing in recent years increased their power.”
“It’s him.”
However, Mycroft’s attempt was unsuccessful. Maybe, due to Sherlock’s interests and the limits of Mycroft’s job itself, they could not escape the topic.
Eventually, Mycroft let out a sigh and asked her misunderstood sister.
“You’re talking about Professor James Moriarty again?”
“I’ve only ever talked about him, Mycroft.”
“What…”
Mycroft tried to carefully choose her words.
Even though she watched her sister for a while, she still couldn’t understand.
Mycroft was well aware of Sherlock’s obsession and intriguing hypothesis about James Moriarty because she had heard about it until her ears rang.
However, even Mycroft couldn’t easily infer why her sister had those thoughts and what Sherlock’s precise feelings towards Professor Moriarty were.
For a time, she thought something bad had happened between the two, but while denying it until the end, Sherlock never opened up about the truth.
“Your disappointment about…the professor not remembering you…well, you are unexpectedly sensitive in unexpected places so I can see that but—”
“I’m not a child, Mycroft. It’s not, it’s not just because of that.”
“…Good. That’s a relief. Are you insisting on your hypothesis about Professor Moriarty again?”
“It’s not a hypothesis.”
That’s how it should be.
Mycroft patiently waited for Sherlock, who was momentarily silent, giving her the time to savor the silence. It was a considerate yet unwanted gesture from her perspective.
As the silence continued, everything became more and more confusing.
It was very resentful that he could not remember me. I tried to logically think that he was just acting like a villain, but her emotions took control of her body in front of his hateful act of seeing her with the same eyes as his other students.
More than anything, she was confused. Had she been sharpening the blade of her revenge relying on her hallucinations for a long time?
No matter how much she observed Professor James Moriarty, all she could conclude was that he was an ordinary math professor.
That’s not how it should be.
Sherlock could not accept that her hypothesis she dedicated her entire life to for the past ten years was faulty.
Of course, there were certainly methods to verify such a hypothesis. And if she reasoned it out, she could find out whether the author was acting to deceive himself.
But she couldn’t.
As if returning to that day 10 years ago, she couldn’t do anything.
To be honest, she was scared. She was afraid that the 10 years of her life would become nothing. She was afraid that he may have forgotten her.
Thinking about it, she became irritated, began to hate everything, became bored, and wanted to nit-pick about each and every thing.
The man who should only have eyes for her was obliviously walking around with an unwanted hairy creature by his side – wasn’t he?
No, she shouldn’t dwell on negative thoughts once again. It seemed like she was lacking medication. But because Mycroft was watching, she bit her lips closed instead and barely opened her mouth.
“He’s behind it all, Brother Mycroft.”
“So… Sherlock, according to the hypothesis you’ve been claiming to me so far, Professor James Moriarty has unified various criminal groups throughout the UK, including London, and by secretly controlling them while being a mastermind, he’s a criminal teacher who planned numerous unsolved cases, and secretly sponsoring Irish armed groups, socialists, and communists in the UK, causing chaos, and through exchanges with criminal groups in France, Germany, Italy, the US and others, he’s the head of a large international crime organization that virtually controls Europe by merging, and he gives bribes to and controls many politicians in Downing Street and financiers in the City of London, meaning all of this points to one person?”
“… Yes.”
Sherlock nodded her head, filled with certainty.
