The Final Equation

by Amelia Littlewood

  I was an intelligent woman and I was proud of it, but I did not have Mr. Holmes’—or Moriarty’s—genius. Few people did. It made him feel quite alone, I thought, although he would never have admitted as much to me aloud.

  It was truly a pity that Moriarty, the first person who could possibly have been on his level intellectually and who, therefore, might have been able to connect with him as no other person could, had to be such a criminal. As we followed her trail through Europe, it became quite clear to us that there was no level to which she would not stoop.

  She did not tend to get her hands dirty herself. That seemed to be something beneath her, at least in her view. I could see it as rather a dark mirror to Mr. Holmes’ tastes. He would often send me, or Mary, or his homeless network, to run errands for him when he wished to accomplish two things at once or when he simply did not wish to venture from the house and go traipsing all over London.

  But she was well aware of our following her. She took care to leave chaos in her wake. She called in her favors, and when politicians and royalty did not comply, she exposed them. It was as if we were running towards explosion after explosion, unable to stop them before they went off.

  We had to deal with several murders, a few thefts, and the near-breakup of the Polish royal family—which was fortuitously avoided by some timely observations by Mr. Holmes. I never should have thought him the sort of man who would be good at diplomacy, but, for once, he seemed to understand the value of tact.

  Mr. Darcy and I made ourselves useful in whatever way that we could. For yes, Mr. Darcy joined us. He had the funds to see us all over Europe and his connections made him even more useful. Mary was not pleased to have been left behind, but we could not take too many of us and I was not about to put my sister in danger.

  Besides, Mother would have had a fit. She had already thrown quite a large one when she had learned what I was up to. “After a criminal? Traveling with two men while unmarried? My dear Lizzie, you shall be the ruin of us all!”

  “I hardly see that it will much matter,” I replied. “Your three daughters are taken care of and Mary is still yet young, and my name has been kept out of the papers. Why should you worry about reputation?”

  Father was worried, as well, but for my safety. He impressed upon me the importance of my taking care. I told him that I would do my best to return safe and sound to him. Indeed, I assured him, it would not be long before we returned.

  But then, days stretched into weeks, into nearly a month.

  Most of the members of the upper echelons of society were happy to assist us. Many of them were, unfortunately, rather snippy to us, saying things about not having arrived faster and so on and so forth.

  It was quite hard for me to hold my tongue around some of them. We were trying to catch a criminal that they had aided and abetted because of the things that they had done and that they were ashamed of, because they were not willing to accept the consequences of their actions—many of these people were trying to cover up affairs, theft, embezzlement, and corruption. And they had the audacity to think that it was their right to be upset that those secrets were not kept for them?

  It was the height of arrogance, if you asked me, and part of me wanted to simply leave these people to their fate and forget the entire thing.

  But Moriarty wanted war. She wanted chaos. And, at the end of the day, it wouldn’t be merely the rich and powerful who suffered. In fact, they might not even suffer at all. They would inevitably find a way back to the top.

  The poor people that would be caught in the middle when wars broke out, though—they would suffer. Many of them would try to obtain goods through smuggling or to escape over borders, as Moriarty had predicted. The criminal class, they would profit. But everyday people—they were the ones who would truly suffer. The ones who would pay the consequences for the crimes of the ruling class.

  We couldn’t let that happen, no matter how insufferable those nobles and industry men were and how easy it would be for me to watch them suffer.

  We crisscrossed all over Europe. I have to admit that it would have been a lovely trip and, in some ways, it was, but there was not the time for dilly-dallying and sightseeing that such travelers would normally be afforded.

  Every day, I could feel Mr. Holmes’ frustration growing. Every day, I tried to find a way to distract him or at least to help him in his quest. It felt less like a case now and more like an obsession.

  “Do you know, Miss Bennet,” he said to me at one point, “I should be quite happy to retire if we could but catch this mastermind. I have not gone up against anyone of her intellect nor found anyone as willing to watch the world burn. She simply seems to thrive upon chaos and the misfortunes of others.

  “To end her, to see her behind bars for good and condemned by the court, would be the top of my career. How should I ever best it? I should know then that I had at last done the best good for the world and that I had exercised the height of my powers.”

  “But you have already done so much good for the world,” I told him. “Think of all the people that you have helped. You have already destroyed much of Moriarty’s gang. She is on the run. Surely that can be enough to satisfy you.”

  “Why should I worry about the little fish when the big fish has yet to run her course? She will start again, as they always do. I must catch her. And then, I shall be content.”

  “But content with what, sir? With going into the countryside and keeping bees? With traveling slowly through the continent as if you were an old man? You would never be satisfied in such a way, Mr. Holmes. You and I both know it. You would grow bored and come back to me and demand that I hand over the keys to 221B so that you might resume your work.”

  “Perhaps you are right, Miss Bennet. Or, perhaps, I am the correct one. We will see in time, once we have caught her.”

  I could not see myself detecting without Mr. Holmes. Indeed, I could not see London itself without Mr. Holmes in it. He seemed to sense my distress, for he afforded me a rare, small smile.

  “Whatever I choose, Miss Bennet, I hope that you are aware that you can do quite well without me.”

  “Mr. Holmes, please do not say such a thing.”

  “I do not mean it in any morbid fashion, Miss Bennet. I only mean that you must learn to appreciate yourself. I have depended on you in this as I could have depended on no one else. Who else in this world could I have possibly trusted with these matters?”

  “But Mr. Darcy—” I began.

  “Ah, Mr. Darcy is a generous man and a good one. But I would not have sent him on such errands were you not by his side. Indeed, it was only for your protection that I had him go with you, for I knew that he would take care of you if the worst came to worst. I could not bear to lose my dear friend and partner.”

  My heart leapt at the word “partner.” “But, Mr. Holmes, I am only your assistant.”

  “You ceased to be my assistant quite some time ago, Miss Bennet. I thought that you were aware of the esteem in which I hold you. No, you are properly my partner in detecting.”

  I would have been embarrassed to admit it, but this statement filled me with such pride in myself that I nearly burst into tears. I had admired Mr. Holmes for such a long time—which I found amusing at times, for when I had first met him, I had hated him—but I had never thought that I could ever be considered at the same level as he.

  To be truthful, I still did not consider myself to be on the same level in terms of his genius. But to know that he valued me as an equal partner, well, that meant more than I could say. In fact, I meant that literally, for I said nothing to him.

  But with all of his powers of observation, I think that he understood.

  Chapter Nine:

  The Falls

  It was in the lodge of Rosenlaui that we caught up to her at last.

  I was most grateful to Mr. Darcy for his financial assistance. He assured me time and again that it was the best use that he had made of
his income in years, but I could not keep myself from feeling a trifle guilty for using his funds in such a manner. I could not dare turn them away, however. Without him, we should not have been able to afford so much travel chasing Moriarty. I could not have asked Charles for such a sum, especially with his son now to think of, and my parents had no money to spare.

  We arrived at the small hamlet, where we had learned there was to be a summit of some kind among a few industry leaders of Europe. They were there, we had learned, to discuss in private the recent upheavals that had occurred as a result of Moriarty’s smuggling rings and other criminal enterprises being overturned, as well as to conclude what was to be done about the political worries in Europe.

  I took the liberty of writing to Jane, informing her that I was quite alright and under the care of Mr. Darcy and Mr. Holmes both. Mr. Holmes was ever distracted by the pursuit of Moriarty, but Mr. Darcy was an excellent chaperone. We easily passed Mr. Holmes and myself off as siblings and Mr. Darcy as our cousin. I had to confess to Jane that this trip around Europe was quite amazing, and that, despite our true purpose, I was managing to take in the lovely scenery, cultures, and art all around us.

  I asked her to please give my love to Kitty and Lydia and to assure them that I should be home soon to help them plan their weddings, and that, of course, I had not forgotten. I enclosed a separate note to Mary to please tidy up the Baker Street flat and to take on whatever small cases she saw fit to help extend her training and to keep the rent money flowing.

  Mr. Darcy had me also enclose a note to dear Georgiana to let her know that he was fine and that he missed her terribly, and to remember to please practice her piano.

  That dealt with, there was nothing to do but wait for the summit to begin.

  “Are you certain that Moriarty will be among their number?” I asked.

  “She has pretended to be a man for decades,” Mr. Holmes replied. “I am certain that she can disguise herself for the course of one evening. If she can influence some men and, perhaps, do harm to a few others, she will be in a position to rise again to power. We cannot allow that to happen.

  “Such a meeting as this is rare indeed. It is all of her doing. She knows that she will get no other chance. We have to act now, and swiftly. We must identify her at this meeting.”

  “And what shall we do when we catch her?” Mr. Darcy asked.

  “We must hold her, if possible, so that she may be properly arrested.”

  I did not fail to notice the if possible part of the sentence. I feared greatly the lengths that Mr. Holmes might go to in order to bring to Moriarty the justice that she deserved.

  I cornered him as we prepared to attend the summit. Or, rather, to crash it, for we had not been invited and would be sneaking in much like Moriarty would. “Mr. Holmes.”

  “Miss Bennet.”

  “In our time together, you have helped thousands of people. I dare say you have helped another few thousand in the years before I met you. You have given me great purpose. You have opened my eyes to my own intelligence and to the possibilities that life holds for me.”

  “I thank you for your kind words, Miss Bennet.” His tone said that he knew what point I was driving at.

  But I said it aloud anyway. Some things, although understood, must be said aloud all the same. “You have always been on the side of justice. You have done what was right. On the few occasions where you mis-stepped or were wrong, you corrected yourself.

  “Do not throw away years of being a pillar for justice, an advocate for the victims and the underrepresented—do not give that up because of your current anger.”

  Mr. Holmes regarded me shrewdly. I felt as though I were under a magnifying glass. I had not felt this way around him in quite some time, for we had developed an easy and comfortable friendship after so many months of working together.

  But now, it was as though I was back at Netherfield at that first ball and Mr. Holmes was looking me over once again for the first time. I hoped that this time, he would not find me wanting.

  At last, a bit of tension seemed to leave him, and he said, “Miss Bennet, you do know me. Better, perhaps, than I had given you credit for previously. I admit that my anger at what Moriarty is planning and the way that it has pricked at my pride to see her outwit me have combined to make me feel quite a deep urge for vengeance rather than justice.

  “But I will do my utmost to keep such desires at bay. For you are right, I pride myself on doing what I can to better the lives of the people around me. I have worked tirelessly against the criminal classes and I do not wish to act as they do.”

  He seemed more at ease with himself after that, and I relaxed a bit myself, no longer as worried about him.

  Our trip up to the summit was quite nice. We stopped to gaze at the Reichenbach Falls, a magnificent set of falls that were just near the lodge, and were indeed the reason why the lodge had been built. The view from the balcony of the building itself must be astounding, I thought.

  Up close, however, the falls were rather intimidating. They set off a great mist that, at times, made it difficult to see. There were two paths that took one up to the falls to view them, one on one side of the chasm, and one on the other, although both started from the same beginning point before branching off.

  The falls were fed by the melting mountain snow, and the noise that they made was truly deafening. The paths did not pass the falls, but rather went up to them, and then stopped, and a traveler would be obliged to go back the way that he had come. The view was at once exhilarating and frightening, making one feel more alive for how close to death one was. The drop below onto the shining black rocks was immense, and so clouded by the spray, that even had a body dropped down onto it, it would have been lost to sight.

  “A man that dropped down those falls would certainly drown,” Mr. Darcy said in his usual solemn manner. “That is, if the rocks did not dash him to pieces.”

  “Perhaps we ought to go up to the lodge,” I said, shivering. The thought of what Mr. Darcy had said gave me the sudden odd, chilling feeling of someone walking over my grave.

  Mr. Holmes said nothing, and seemed to be in a rather contemplative mood.

  We went back down the path and up to the lodge, where we found that the summit was beginning with all of the men assembled. We each of us knew our task, and how to look for someone cunningly disguised, for Mr. Holmes had relayed to Mr. Darcy and myself how such tricks of the stage were done.

  I was a bit done up myself, sporting a wig and such makeup that gave my face a much different and peculiar appearance from my natural one. Mr. Darcy only needed to avail himself of some putty, to change the shape of his nose, and some glasses, for he had been of little consequence to Moriarty and she had only glimpsed him at the trial.

  We moved about the room, searching, trying to find where the woman could be. I was quite certain that she would be dressed as a man, for what few ladies there were attended as the wives of various industry men. I could not see Moriarty easily accomplishing her aims while dressed as a woman.

  I was forced to conclude that I could not find any sign of Moriarty among the summit, when I looked about me and realized that Mr. Holmes was not to be seen. He had also disguised himself, and most cunningly, as an old Italian man, and so it took me quite a few minutes longer than usual to ascertain that he was no longer in the room.

  I hurried to Mr. Darcy and informed him of the situation. We both concluded that Mr. Holmes must be in pursuit of Moriarty, for why else should he leave the summit?

  My pulse was pounding in my throat as I hurried out of the meeting room and looked all about the lodge with Mr. Darcy. It was then that I stepped out onto the balcony and looked down—and saw them.

  Two figures, walking along the path that led to the falls.

  “Mr. Darcy!” I cried. “They are going to the falls!” I knew in my heart that it must be them, for it was nearly dark and who else should be going to such a treacherous plac
e at a time like this?

  We hurried after them, but were too far behind, and when we reached the fork in the road, we could not tell which path up they had taken. We decided upon the right-hand path, for that was the one that Mr. Darcy, Mr. Holmes, and I had taken earlier and if Mr. Holmes knew that we were following, he might have taken that one so that we might continue to pursue.

  I hurried up the path, running much faster than a lady ought to, my skirts hitched up in my hands so that I might move with freedom. Mr. Darcy could have run faster than myself, I’m sure, but he allowed me the lead. I think that he sensed how important this was for me.

  No figures appeared ahead of me. There was no sign of Mr. Holmes.

  When I reached the end of the path and saw that they were not there, I nearly cried out in despair. “We have taken the wrong path,” I told Mr. Darcy, turning and shoving at his chest. “We must go back down and take the other.”

  Mr. Darcy looked over my shoulder. “Miss Bennet,” he said, his voice grave. “Look.”

  I turned to follow his gaze, and my breath turned solid in my throat, becoming a cold lump that fairly choked me.

  On the opposite side of the falls, their figures half obscured by the mist, were Mr. Holmes and Moriarty.

  I could not see exactly what they were doing. They appeared, for a moment, to merely be talking. Moriarty was, as I had guessed, in a suit and taking on her usual appearance as a man, although this suit was far nicer and more fitting than any we had seen her in before.

  I felt frozen. I knew that I ought to turn and run back the way that we had come, to go up the opposite path and reach them, but it felt as though my feet had taken root into the ground and could not be moved.

  Perhaps it was that my gut instinct was active again. Perhaps it was that somewhere, in my mind, I knew that I would not make it, and that I needed to see what happened next.

  One of them said something that angered the other. I could hear raised voices, the tone but not any of the words.