I watched waiting to see who pulled himself up out of the Jaws of Death. By God, it was Holmes! He got himself up and pulled himself onto the ground where minutes earlier, my beloved Professor struggled with him.
"Curry, get down. Let's steady the shot," I hissed.
We gave Holmes time to stand and look around. I balanced the rifle on Curry's shoulder again. I aimed and fired. Oh no! I missed. For the first time in my life I missed, and it was not deliberate. Holmes looked up. I stood up from cover thinking I had hit him. Holmes recognized me.
"Curry, we must go he has seen us. We will not get another good shot." I fired wildly two more times, but by then Holmes was gone. The police were now coming, obviously summoned by Watson. I needed to get away. I hated to do it, but Curry would slow me down. I took out my hunting knife and stabbed him in the heart and rolled him out in the open. Then I fled. My accounting with Holmes would come later.
I returned to London to pass on the sorrowful news of the Professor's death. The organization would have to lie low. I had some sad business to attend to. I had to go to New Mexico and inform Senora Moriarty.
It was the worst trip of my life. The voyage to New York, then the train to Chicago, then to New Mexico. I told our people in New York and Chicago about the Professor and that they were to lie low and await further instructions. I tried to avoid the other passengers on the trains as much as possible. Americans want to tell you their life story and I was in no mood. I could not afford to lose my temper, though. I was on a mission.
I arrived in New Mexico and told a manservant I needed to see Senora Moriarty.
She came to the door as beautiful as ever. "Colonel Moran, where is my husband?"
"Senora Moriarty, is there somewhere we can go that is private?"
"Colonel Moran, anything you have to say to me is public. Is my husband all right? When will he be coming?"
"Oh Senora, I am so sorry. He will not be coming home."
She looked at me and said in a cold even voice, "He is dead."
"I'm afraid he is."
"We must make arrangements to bring his body home to New Mexico to be buried."
"Oh, Senora, I am so sorry, there will not be a body. It is lost."
"What do you mean there is no body? Tell me Colonel. How did he die and where is his body? Manuel! Bring my mother in law here at once". The man who showed me in disappeared briefly and returned with the Professor's mother whom I had not seen in years. I certainly did not want to see her under these horrific circumstances. The two women stood together, arms locked in front of me.
I could not believe how steely these two women were with all this. I kept waiting for the explosive screams of a widow's and a mother's agony. Was the Professor's wife just in shock? Maybe that was it.
She said again, "tell me Colonel. What happened?"
"Oh, Senora, your husband met Holmes on a cliff in Switzerland. A terrible place, the very gate of hell. Your husband fought valiantly but could not overcome Holmes. Your husband went all those hundreds of feet into the rushing waters. There was no body to recover."
"What about Holmes," she hissed.
"I'm afraid he got away." Still, she did not weep. She just looked at me with a hard look.
"Colonel Moran, you will hunt down Sherlock Holmes, kill him, and bring me his head. That will be your proof that you carried this out. Now leave us to our grief!"
With that, I left as quickly as I could. Both women were so hard I could not leave a building fast enough. I would have been less frightened of people trying to kill me.
It was now up to me to carry out the revenge.
###
About the Author
MICHAEL GOT THE WRITING BUG AFTER DRIVING HIS WIFE TO HER RWA MEETINGS. BORN IN BROOKLYN, NEW YORK, HE HAS BEEN MARRIED OVER TWENTY FIVE YEARS TO A DIE HARD BOSTON RED SOX FAN. NO, HE IS NOT A YANKEE FAN. THEY LIVE IN SOUTHERN ARIZONA WITH TWO VERY SPOILED FELINE CHILDREN.
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Moriarty The Life and Times of a Criminal Genius Page 10
