The Lost Files of Sherlock Holmes (21 page)

‘However, the most deviant aspect of his behaviour, throughout, was the manner of his attack upon me at the Reichenbach Falls, although you will appreciate that the urgency of the situation precluded any such reflective thought at the time! I am sure you can recall my
description
of the man and, therefore, that he was not someone readily disposed to acts of violent physical action. Indeed, years of scholastic study had evolved him into a purely mental entity, his body, merely a means of conveying his thoughts and perverse ideas for his minions then to act upon. No, Watson, the very idea of such an attack would have been totally abhorrent to him, and unnecessary, when
you consider that he was accompanied by the equally odious but decidedly more lethal Colonel Sebastian Moran.

‘The years have not dulled my memory of that fateful moment. As I stood with my back to the falls, I was certain that I was at the mercy of Professor Moriarty, yet now, in retrospect, I can see much room for doubt. Consider Watson, the air was thick with the mists from the
thundering
falls, Moriarty’s collar and muffler were worn high and his hat rim brought down low. His obscured features were contorted by violent rage. Furthermore he displayed a strength that I would not, previously, have credited him with. Truly, if I were to stand in a court room today, I could not swear on oath that it was the professor whom I sent hurtling to his death within the depths of that terrible chasm.’

Holmes paused for a moment, to refill and relight his pipe.

‘I must truly congratulate you, Holmes!’ I stated in breathless excitement. ‘This is surely the finest
achievement
in deductive reasoning that you have attained to date.’

‘Ah, so Watson, the cynic, has now become enlightened. You have, no doubt, now perceived that this is no wild theory of mine, but a gradual dissection of a great
falsehood
, that may yet cost me dear.’

‘How so?’ I asked.

‘To make this clear to you I will now have to impart more recent evidence and add this to my hypothesis of the past. My previous investigations on the Continent have realized me many contacts within each country’s respective police force. They have been more than obliging in providing me with information pertaining to all noteworthy crimes that
have occurred within their jurisdiction over the past four years.’

‘Why just those specific years.’ I asked.

‘Because they are the only years that are relevant. Assuming the accuracy of my theory, the professor, upon learning of his brother’s death at the falls, would
immediately
have gone into hiding perhaps in a recess or labyrinth, prepared some years before, for such an
unfortunate
eventuality. No doubt Colonel Moran and, perhaps, a minion or two, who had escaped my net, would serve to protect the professor’s secret and provide him with news of the outside world.

‘Our ruse and entrapment of Colonel Moran that night at the “Empty House” deprived the professor of his last significant ally, and would surely have spurred his flight to the Continent. My calculation of four years is based on the assumption that it would take him a year, at the least, to assume a new identity and re-build his organisation.

‘I must conclude that my calculation has been an
accurate
one. Every police force, that I have maintained contact with, has reported an increase in organised crime during this period. His hall marks are clear enough to see. Each crime has been organised down to the smallest detail and is distinguished by its intricate, long-term planning. Naturally, on those rare occasions when the crime has been thwarted, the threads never lead to the central core. Watson, professor Moriarty is now the
principal
moving force behind the worst of continental crime and, it seems that his voracious talons have now extended to Rome.

‘Incidentally, Watson, two most damning and suggestive pieces of evidence have come to my attention only recently.
The birth records of both brothers were mysteriously destroyed by fire some years ago whilst the existence of a third, younger brother has also come to light. Whilst I do not suggest that he was in any way connected with the criminal activities of his elder brothers, being a popular station-master in the West Country, it is somewhat
suggestive
to note that he was killed in a train accident, exactly four years ago!’

I sank back in my seat, mentally exhausted by the extent of Holmes’s faculty for deduction and the sensational nature of its conclusion.

‘Well, Moriarty certainly covers his tracks with ruthless efficiency,’ I observed.

Holmes nodded solemnly. ‘Indeed he does and I have allowed him to entrench himself in his new criminal habitat as deeply as he once was in London. For the past four years I have been a worthless fool, pursuing my own career. All the while, the man whom I thought I had destroyed has rendered my other successes meaningless. By the way, Watson, be in no doubt as to the danger of our position once we begin our work in Rome. I am sure that Moriarty will recognise my hand as surely as I have his.’

‘Are the Rome police aware of the situation?’ I asked.

‘They are most anxious to help, in their own inept way, yet, so far, have discovered nothing to indicate the
involvement
of Moriarty. Ah, but now I fancy, we begin the approach to the station of Turin. A chance time lapse between our trains will allow us the opportunity for some refreshment, I think.’

I was glad of the break in our travels, for my head was spinning with the speed of our progress and the length and drama of Holmes’s narrative. As I was to discover, on our
return journey, we had passed through hundreds of miles of the most breathtaking and scenic landscapes that Europe has to offer. Yet I had been so spellbound at each of Holmes’s words that I had missed it all. Though generally speaking more appreciative of my natural surroundings than Holmes ever was, I was not a bit surprised that I had been oblivious to them on this occasion, nor was I resentful at having been so.

Thankfully we were both able to sleep during our journey’s final leg, and we arrived at the terminus in Rome in time for an early breakfast, barely twenty four hours after we had deserted our rooms in Baker Street.

We were met on the platform by two very smart uniformed officers who, after collecting our luggage from the luggage-van, led us to a gracious Landau that awaited us outside. Here we were greeted by our host and colleague, Inspector Gialli.

Clearly the officers spoke not a word of English, but Inspector Gialli, to our pleasant surprise, had a reasonable command of our language and offered to act as both our interpreter and collaborator throughout the duration of our stay. For ease of narrative, I shall eliminate his many errors in interpretation and pronunciation.

‘Good morning, gentlemen!’ He smiled, as he stepped down lightly from the carriage. ‘I trust your journey was pleasant?’

‘Indeed it was, Inspector. It was good of you to meet us at such an hour.’ I replied, bowing politely. Holmes seemed to be amused by the appearance of our host and barely suppressed a smile as he bowed in turn.

Gialli was quite short for a policeman, standing at little more than five feet six inches. His build and posture can
best be described as neat and dapper; from his light grey bowler down to his gaiters he exuded a certain elegance. His facial expressions were charming. He sported a tiny though well waxed moustache. Yet the items that
distinguished
him the most from his London counterparts, were his exuberantly patterned tie and a pale grey top-coat that he wore unbuttoned.

His light-hearted manner certainly belied his profession, and his attitude and conversation, the awesome task before us. He chatted incessantly about his desire to visit London and then, apologetically, about the unseasonably cold weather, that Rome was experiencing at that time. For myself, having so recently left the chill of London, I found it uncomfortably warm in my heavy coat.

Holmes held a stony silence throughout our journey to the hotel which the Roman authorities had provided for us. I, on the other hand, found my attention being constantly diverted, from our host’s conversation, by the wondrous edifices, both ancient and renaissance, that consistently lined our route.

Gialli noted my fascination with these surroundings and proceeded to identify many of the places of interest which we passed, with an understandable pride. I soon lost track of the numerous churches, forums, temples and piazzas that Gialli was describing. Indeed I was looking forward to a few hours rest at our hotel, when we pulled up outside another magnificent building, on the Via Nationale, which, in any other city in the world, would surely have been described as a palace. I was astounded to learn that this imposing monument was to serve as our accommodation for the next few days! Holmes, however, with his usual cold, diffident air might have just pulled up outside 221b
Baker Street, for all the effect his surroundings had on him.

‘I should like to visit the museum at ten o’clock.’ He informed Gialli, to my great horror, for this rendezvous would only afford us two hours’ rest.

‘Surely a visit in the early afternoon would suit just as well? I am completely spent!’ I protested.

Holmes turned on me with a glare. ‘Watson! The scent is cold enough as it is and Moriarty is not one to delay in obscuring his tracks.’ With that he bounded up the hotel stairs and left me exhausted at the bottom.

To Holmes’s intense annoyance, it was not until a quarter past the agreed hour that we received the message that Inspector Gialli awaited our pleasure in the lobby below.

A short journey in the landau took us past the ancient market and forum of the Emperor Trajan and around the base of the half completed monument to King Victor Emmanuel, before delivering us to the foot of the
magnificent
staircase that stretches up to the Capitol. It was only upon discovering that the building at the top of the steps was, indeed, the Capitoline museum, that Holmes finally became attentive to his surroundings.

Almost at once his features took on an entirely different aspect. His eyes seemed to spring to life, darting from side to side, alert to any potential clue. While his face became taut and hungry. Ignoring the unique equestrian statue of Marcus Aurelius, that stood guard before the museum. Holmes made for the entrance with a decided spring in his step.

At once, he began making enquiries as to the security arrangements on the day of the theft. Holmes asked me to
make appropriate notes, as a plethora of information began cascading upon us from Gialli, his subordinates, and the head of the museum’s security guards. However, Holmes soon realized that the only fact, worthy of attention, was that two of the guards, on duty that day, were only engaged some three weeks prior to the theft.

‘You can see here, Watson, how vital is my ability to sift the relevant information from the superfluous. The task of examining every detail and gorging oneself on a stew of useless information is both time consuming and dulling to the senses. However, even at this stage of our
investigation
, I can perceive the direction our inquiries must immediately take.’

To emphasise his point, Holmes at once requested that Gialli despatch two of his officers to locate the source of employment of the two guards in question. We were denied the opportunity of interviewing these two, by reason of their unexplained absence from work for the past two days, though, in truth, Holmes seemed hardly surprised to learn of this.

With Gialli and myself in his wake, Holmes strode purposefully through the front hall, oblivious to the
miraculous
examples of ancient sculpture, by which he was surrounded, and called back to request directions to the famous First Room, from where ‘The Dying Gaul’ had been removed. Upon being informed that it was located on the upper floor, Holmes bounded up the stairs ahead of us, and was already examining a large empty plinth, in the centre of the room, with his glass, by the time Gialli and I joined him. I motioned to Gialli to remain silent and still whilst Holmes continued his work. A moment later Holmes straightened himself and, with an impatient grunt,
snapped his glass away. He glared accusingly at Inspector Gialli.

‘Inspector,’ Holmes began, with some annoyance. ‘Someone has very carefully removed all of the traces that might have proved useful to me!’

‘Signor Holmes, I can assure you that none of the officers under my control, would have been so stupid as to remove anything at all from the scene of a crime!’ Gialli replied, his round face alight with indignation. ‘However, I understand from yourself that the man you suspect of being the master-mind behind the theft, is of above average intellect. Therein, I suspect, lies your explanation.’

‘I can assure you that I meant no disrespect.’ Holmes mumbled apologetically. ‘Perhaps my experience of the London police force has made me, somewhat cynical. Now, you must describe to me, in exact and concise terms, the full circumstances of the theft of “The Dying Gaul”. As he spoke, Holmes seated himself on the empty plinth, in readiness.

Aghast at Holmes’s apparent irreverence, Gialli eyed him quizzically, for a moment, before proceeding.

‘The alarm was first raised by the very two guards who have, subsequently, gone missing. They were on duty that morning in the Fifth Room, otherwise known as the Bust Room. This room contains an unequalled collection of Imperial portraits, that are both entirely authentic and, of course, irreplaceable.

‘It seems that a member of the viewing public was suddenly taken by a violent attack of brain fever and was endeavouring to vandalise the magnificent head of Caracalla with a pocket knife. No doubt due to their
relative
lack of experience, in such a situation, our guards
called for immediate assistance, whereupon the manager and several other guards raced to their aid.

‘By the time this entourage had entered the Bust Room, they discovered that the malefactor had disappeared, but that only slight damage had been inflicted on the bust. A thorough search was conducted of all the adjacent galleries, but to no avail. After being questioned by the police, the guards, who had raised the alarm, were allowed to leave and have not been seen since.’