The Return of Moriarty Read online

  Kate Wright’s favorite London pudding was served next—a concoction of apricot jam, sponge finger biscuits, butter, milk, lemon and eggs. The meal was completed with Angels on Horseback, that particular savory being one of Moriarty’s favorites; the Professor had always been partial to bacon and oysters.

  While the five leaders ate lunch, their lieutenants ate from a cold buffet, laid out on a trestle table set under the window, though none of them let their eyes stray long from their particular chief.

  When the meal was finished and all were replete, Moriarty called the table to order. Paget went out to make certain that Terremant had posted one of the punishers outside the door; the bodyguards and others took up their places, ranging themselves behind their respective leaders, and they all fell silent.

  First they toasted one another by turns—Moriarty coldly businesslike; Sanzionare and Grisombre effusive; Schleifstein correct and distant, without warmth; Segorbe quiet and with a mocking quality; Golden respectful, maintaining his position as observer.

  Moriarty then rose and began his long speech.*

  “Gentlemen, I wish to welcome you here and thank you all for making the long and irksome journeys you have each undertaken from your homes and natural environments.

  “In the last few years we have talked individually about the plans I have long conceived. All of us have had experience, which has taught us that where so-called unlawful activities are concerned, there is more to be said for concerted action than the individual and lonely forays made daily by men and women acting on their own initiative.

  “The sneak thief, cracksman, dipper and mobsman, the macer and magsman, even the assassin and whore, can go about their business and net certain small benefits. They can be successful, fence their loot, plan their capers, but all in a vacuum. We have, I believe, all proved that the man acting in concert with those of his kind has more opportunities, more certainty of profit, more chance of evading the law.

  “It may well be that I am an arrogant man, but I have reason to believe that of all of us here, I have the greatest experience—my organization being the largest, and controlling, as I do, the major elements not only in London, but also the bulk of England, Scotland and Wales.

  “The loose and reciprocal arrangements we have had in the past few years also appear to have proved beyond doubt that an organization based on mutual trust, understanding and sharing is not only possible but decidedly in our interests. I make no bones about it, gentlmen, my lbject in calling this meeting today is to discuss the foundation of a superior network that will stretch throughout the length and breadth of the Continent of Europe—for the Continent is a vast storehouse of treasure and power: there for us to use, to take, to plunder, if you like.

  “We are all aware that the men and women who work for us and under us are in the main creatures of limited education, with narrow intellects. So it strikes me that it is our duty, our responsibility, to care for these men and women, to guide, comfort and direct them and to see that their very able talents are deployed to the best advantage. If that can be done here in Great Britain, it can certainly be done on a Continental scale. That is my object.

  “Now, none of us are fools—otherwise we would not be sitting here together, today. There is a need for lengthy discussion about many aspects of control, of the methods which we would need to maintain such an alliance—for that is how I see it: a grand alliance based on modern methods.

  “This brings me to what may be the most important point I have to make. Progress, gentlemen, progress. For too long our brothers in crime have clung to old and hardened ways, neglecting even to notice that around us we are seeing the world alter as never before. Many of the advances in science are, I fear, regarded as mere fads and follies; not just by the world in general but by our own world in particular. The signs and portents of change are all about us, yet we do not see our lives being drastically altered. Think for a moment what difference has been made by the railway: the huge distances that can now be covered in a relatively short space of time. It is a shrinking world and I foresee it shrunken even more drastically. We must be alive to these matters, alive to them and harness them to our own advantage.

  “For instance, the telephone and telegraph are already making strides so far undreamed of. In a matter of minutes it is possible to talk to somebody who is miles away, at the other end of our cities. In a matter of hours we can be in touch, by telegraph, with the far corners of Europe. We have already used these modern methods, but do you imagine that this is going to stop here? It should be obvious to any thinking man that our present telephone, telegraph and cablegram services are not going to remain as they are. They will progress; there is little to stop them. Within years we will be able to speak to each other over great distancesl. Imagine how that will affect our aims.

  “Not only our aims, though, for it will also have bearing on the police forces of the world, governments, banks and industries. It is with these things in mind that we must plan. If we accept, then, that we are going to be able to communicate with more ease with each other over great distances we must also look at some of the other factors.

  “I have spoken of the railways. There is also a new evolution taking place which concerns other forms of traveling. We are told that on the sea ships will be built that will not only be bigger and better but also faster. On land we all smile a little at the strange phenomenon of the horseless carriage. I would say to you, do not smile. What we are seeing in these noisy, shuddering and bumping vehicles is the dawn of a new kind of transportation, which will eventually totally outstrip anything we could dream of. Make no mistake about it.

  “You will also be inclined to laugh at my next suggestion. We know the way the balloon, and ballooning, is becoming an increasingly popular novelty; and who amongst us has not smiled dubiously at the strange drawings and ideas held by many that man will one day be able to soar and fly like the birds?

  “Yet, when you consider the achievements made in other fields, who can really doubt that the theories of seeming fools and dreamers will, in a short space of time, become a reality with which to be reckoned? Who has heard of the experiments taking place at this moment under the guidance of men like Otto Lilienthal? The time will come, as certainly as tomorrow, when men will travel through the skies just as they will travel with ease and comfort at ever increasing speeds on land and sea.

  “My friends, I have spoken about the natural line of progress, fast overtaking us, that will inevitably have a bearing on our lives and on the manner in which we work. We now have to consider what the climate will be; who will control these changes. The answer is simple—politicians, industrialists, generals and the rich. They hold the key to all power and if we are to have any share in the fortune that awaits, we must also have a share in that power. How is this to be achieved?

  “Our manner of business is classed by many as the business of evil. So be it. But in what conditions can this so-called evil best flower? I would suggest the word chaos; I would suggest the word instability; I would suggest the word uncertainty: three words that should be the cornerstones of our thinking.

  “In the world today there are great revolutionary political movements smoldering under the surface of life, ready to erupt with the fire and violence of a volcano. From all parts of the Continent we hear of anarchy—assassinations, the detonation of bombs, the disruption of normal everyday existence, all performed in the name of political ideals and fervor.

  “I would suggest to you that these methods of anarchy and unrest can be used by us to furnish our own interests. If we can assist and foster conditions of unrest, even perform anarchistic acts of our own volition, we can create a situation where the ripe pickings will fall to us like apples from the tree.

  “It remains now for us to plan, to decide, to make ready for the harvest we can reap.”

  There was silence as the Professor sat down. Then Grisombre began to applaud. With slight hesitation the others joined him, Schleifstein slapping the
table soundly with the palm of his hand.

  When the small but sincere ovation subsided, Grisombre rose, speaking in a strongly accented English, choosing his words with care.

  “I find it interesting to hear the good Professor expound this theory. From my own experience I can attest to the fact that it is all valid thinking. It is true that I was a very young man in 1871, but I recall vividly the conditions which reigned in Paris at the time of the siege.”

  His eyes darted toward Schleifstein, as though seeking some confirmation from a member of the race that had bested the French at the culmination of the Franco-Prussian war.

  “The conditions were terrible, with food so scarce that some were reduced to eating rats. I remember the day they shot the elephants in the zoological gardens for food. But my overall recollection is that of a city open to plunder. I know of many men who made fortunes. The disruption of society can only lead us to greater strength and I, for one, welcome Professor Moriarty as our inspirational leader.”

  One by one the others threw in their hand with the Professor. It remained for the complicated governing details of their intercontinental organization to be thrashed out. But before the conversation could turn in that direction, Sanzionare rose to his feet.

  “As the Professor’s guest, I would like to pay my respects in a tangible manner,” he announced, flicking his fingers in the direction of the young man he had brought with him.

  The dark young Italian was at his master’s side, moving with a quick skill that Moriarty considered could, under different conditions, be deadly. A small, oblong package appeared as if from nowhere. Sanzionare took it, walked the length of the table and placed it in Moriarty’s hands giving a short but reverential bow.

  Moriarty unwrapped the package with care. Inside was a box, carefully tied with ribbon. The box contained a book, bound in calf and beautifully decorated with gold leaf—an Italian translation of The Dynamics of an Asteroid by James Moriarty. Its feel was beautiful to the hands, and to the gaze of anybody with artistic sensibility it was in itself an objet d’art

  “I had it done especially by our most skillful craftsman in Firenze,” said Sanzionare, and Moriarty wondered at that moment if the Italian’s eyes were tinged with mockery. He felt a well of unexpected anger rise in him and the color flood high on his cheeks. But in a second Moriarty recovered his composure, making a short and gracious speech of thanks.

  The Frenchman, Grisombre, not to be outdone, made a sign in the direction of his two slim, olive-skinned escorts, who, reacting somewhat dramatically, produced a flat square package that had been stowed under the table. This was revealed to be a book also—a slimmer volume than that offered by the Italian, but larger in size and bound in handtooled Morocco leather.

  “Monsieur le Professeur,” Grisombre licked his lips. “I know that you, like myself, have an eye for the ladies. You are a connoisseur in the arts of love. The photographs in this volume are made by some of the best at my disposal.”

  The album contained over two hundred photographs that would today bring a fortune from any wealthy collector of erotica. Moriarty allowed a smile to trace briefly over his lips as he let the pages waterfall quickly from his thumb, getting a small first glimpse of the exquisite ladies from Paris in various stages of undress, in poses of a most seductive nature—alone, together and with various young men of well-endowed physique.

  Schleifstein was now at the Professor’s elbow, an unwrapped, heavy, polished mahogany box in his big hands. He clicked his heels, after the Prussian military manner, and placed the box in front of Moriarty.

  “I have a gift which I think will be of more practical value.”

  The lid swung back on hinges to reveal, nestling in a dark blue bed of velvet, an unusual pistol. Moriarty had seen nothing like it betore and, in truth, it was the most interesting of the three gifts so far offered. To begin with, there was no chamber and no visible hammer.

  He picked it out of the box and weighed it in his hand. It had a masculine, workmanlike, feel. He looked questioningly at the German.

  “It is an automatic pistol,” said Schleifstein. “Another mark of progress, you see.” He took the weapon from Moriarty. “The cartridges fit into a magazine, which slides into the butt and the weapon automatically recocks itself when you fire. It is copied from an idea incorporated in the Maxim gun, and is the invention of a Hugo Borchardt, manufactured by Ludwig Loewe of Berlin. I have brought cartridges also, and I venture to suggest that in all the many signs of progress you have spoken about, this will also bring a drastic change to our business.”*

  Moriarty nodded. Firearms fascinated him, and this one sent strange tingles up his arm as he held it. He looked around, catching the eye of the Spaniard, Segorbe, who held him steadily in his gaze.

  “These gifts make mine look somewhat puny,” smiled Segorbe, rising and passing over a long, slim parcel.

  It contained a Toledo dagger, the hilt pocked with rubies, the blade honed razor sharp.

  “It has the advantage of silence when compared with the pistol,” Segorbe said smoothly.

  Moriarty looked down at the collection in front of him, lips curving slightly.

  “Your gifts,” he said almost in a whisper, “represent all the classic facets of the great intriguer. I now only need a vial of poison and some kind of explosive and I can be regarded”—he swept his hands across the pile of presents—“as scholar, libertine and assassin.”

  There were quiet chuckles from the men around the table.

  “But there is no need for gifts,” he continued. “To have gathered you all here; to share experiences and thoughts; to build a structure and plan ahead is all we need. The ultimate outcome of this meeting will be reward enough for all of us.”

  Paul Golden said nothing, yet took in everything.

  “That automatic barking iron looks real wicked,” said Paget later. “It’ll be some moment when we get to see it fired.”

  He was talking to Spear, who was obviously mending, even though his face still looked bruised and battered and the dressings on his hands continued to need changing twice a day.

  “What about the book the Frenchie gave him?” Spear winked broadly and Paget grinned.

  “Where did you hear about that, then?”

  Spear nodded in the direction of Bridget, who sat in her usual place by the bed. “She told me.” His look was of one jesting at the embarrassment of another.

  Bridget blushed scarlet, biting her lip.

  “She got it from her.” Spear nodded again, this time toward Fanny.

  Paget looked at his betrothed, a query in his lifted eyebrows, amusement around his mouth.

  “Well …” Fanny hesitated.

  “And you, Fanny Jones, saying you thought it was disgusting.” Paget smiled, remembering the girl’s forthright statements when he had described the photographs to her.

  “Well …” said Fanny again, with no other words of explanation.

  “You girls have got dirty minds.” Spear looked at the two of them, not caring about the fact that grinning was still a painful exercise.

  “We’re inquisitive, that’s all.” Bridget still showed spirit.

  “You’ll know all about it when I’m back on my feet and well,” said Spear.

  “Maybe—” Fanny was cool, her hands folded in her lap. “Maybe we should plan a double wedding on Tuesday.”

  Both Spear and Bridget appeared to be wrapped in thought.

  It was early afternoon when the news came into Scotland Yard that Sanzionare was staying at the Westminster Palace and that he had gone out with one of the young men, leaving the other in the hotel with the girl, Adela Asconta.

  Though Sanzionare had nothing to do with him officially, the fact was passed on to Crow, who made a note of it, and continued to work away at the logical possibilities concerning Moriarty. In a day or so he hoped to have all the facts on the strange Professor of Mathematics, his background, resignation from the university and the move to London.r />
  In the meantime something else had materialized. Word had come from an informant down near the docks that the man Paget, whose name had been revealed during their examination into Moran’s associates, was to be married on Tuesday at St. Andrew’s, Limehouse.

  If Paget were an associate of Moran, Crow reasoned, and if Moran had been an associate of Moriarty, then Paget could be in some way connected with both of them. It would be interesting at least to see this person and his bride.

  The thought of a bride brought Angus Crow down from his logic, to the earthiness of Mrs. Sylvia Cowles. There was no logic there, simply passion, and after a few moments with his mind drifting about the bedroom delights afforded by Mrs. Cowles, Crow was obliged to loosen his collar.

  It was a waiting game, he thought: waiting for Moriarty; waiting for some further hints or clues; waiting until his own powers of deduction could be set against hard facts and proved to be either right or wrong. In some ways he was also waiting for himself, and that was the most illogical matter of all—waiting to make his mind up about Mrs. Cowles. Angus McCready Crow decided that his emotions, as far as Mrs. Cowles was concerned, were in some chaos.

  On Friday evening Luigi Sanzionare returned to his hotel suite and spent the night hours with Adela Asconta; Wilhelm Schleifstein went to eat at the Café Royale, eventually going back to his hotel to a glutted sleep; Jean Grisombre and his two companions went, on Moriarty’s advice, and with special facilities, to Sal Hodges’ house; while Esteban Bernado Segorbe sat down in the writing room of Somerset House to pen a long letter of instructions to his chief lieutenant in Madrid: Senor Segorbe’s business interests needed much of his time and attention.