Chapter 59: When The Call Ends (1)
The most devious trick of the heretics is making you believe they don’t exist.
–Charles Baudelaire1
Perhaps it was because I had been awake all night and kept my senses sharp on the train, but by the time the train arrived at St. Pancras station, my eyelids had already begun to grow heavy.
‘Had I been worried for nothing…’
Fortunately, no unfortunate incident occurred, such as the Phantom Fist who might become an important informant, being killed in an inexplicable manner on the train.
“Once we return, I’ll need a brief rest. I can’t afford to sleep long, though, as I have a meeting with the Home Secretary.”
Though there were still matters at hand, the honest feeling was that I wanted to return to the boarding house as soon as possible and lay my tired body on the bed.
“I should rest right away too. It’s lucky I’m off duty today.”
Watson also stayed awake with the help of tea but couldn’t stop yawning repeatedly.
-Clack! Just then, the inspectors who had been waiting after receiving the telegram Lestrade sent before departing from Cambridge appeared.
Next to them stood a line of individuals who seemed to be executives from the London Central Post Office and Zuckerberg & Co.
They had come to greet Sir Fawcett, the Postmaster General, and Ulrich Zuckerberg.
Unlike the inspectors, they were all elderly and carried a calm energy, masters in their own right.
They were individuals who had reached a level comparable to the chaperons who supervised the debutantes attending the Debutante Ball.
“Is that the detective who achieved merit at the Debutante Ball…”
“Has he caught the murderer this time as well?”
“The tides of the Thames are fierce.”
Their eyes, glancing back and forth between their superior and me, hinted at a sense of wonder.
My name and profession have already started becoming known to London Murim through the article on the recent Debutante Ball murder case.
Since I visited the Central Post Office and the Zuckerberg & Co. England branch office last time, they must have seen my face as well.
The only consulting detective in London returned from Cambridge with Sir Fawcett, Ulrich Zuckerberg, and Inspector Lestrade. And right next to me, the murderer of the case is being escorted, so they could infer what happened to some extent.
At least, judging by the way the inspectors are greeting me, one could guess that I contributed to solving this case.
“You do remember Secretary Harcourt’s instruction not to disclose the details of this matter publicly.”
“Yes. There won’t be any stories about the case published in the newspapers. Perhaps just a brief obituary for the deceased.”
“That would be best.”
Upon asking Lestrade, I received the desired answer.
There shouldn’t be any problems since the Post Office officials will be silenced by the Postmaster General, and we can only hope that there are no eyes of Moriarty’s within Scotland Yard.
Considering I know not how far his network extends, it seems impossible to make vaguely optimistic assumptions.
“Regrettably, only my colleagues and I will remember Mr. Holmes’s exploits.”
I nodded in agreement.
As clients have already started lining up, as long as I’m properly compensated, there’s no need to cling unnecessarily to fame.
Especially now, with Moriarty’s shadow looming.
There’s nothing good to gain from drawing unnecessary attention when we haven’t even found him yet.
For now, it would be best to quietly monitor Moriarty’s movements and quickly gather the strength and resources needed to take him down.
“More importantly, what about the request I made on the train earlier?”
“I don’t understand why you’re telling me this when you could have obtained it directly from Cambridge.”
“I have unavoidable circumstances.”
Lestrade scratched his chin as if puzzled, then nodded reluctantly.
“Hmm… Well, alright. I’ll look quietly into it. But who exactly are you looking for?”
“I was merely wondering if my old mentor from my university days still holds his post. I intend to pay him a quiet visit sometime, just to give him a little surprise.”
“Never mind Cambridge, but why the roster of professors from Oxford and the Sandhurst Military Academy…”
“Because he might have been taken by Oxford.”
After advising Lestrade to strictly monitor the Phantom Fist Timothy Young, I had a private meeting with Sir Fawcett.
“I have much to say, but there are too many eyes here, so I’ll visit separately soon.”
Having achieved his purpose, Sir Fawcett smiled brightly and nodded.
“Thanks to you, my life is saved. To prevent recurrence, I must oversee the installation of security devices on the telephone lines by the phone company.”
“The Minister has a lot of work.”
“This much is just trifle.”
Not even two days had passed before I had delivered the Phantom Fist, allowing Sir Fawcett to contribute to the arrest and maintain his dignity.
Moreover, this incident will weaken the telephone company’s influence, which should give them an advantage in the ongoing lawsuit.
One unexpected point was that he did not directly suppress the Phantom Thief who was of the same sect.
As a master of the Kunlun Cathedral, he holds a significant position not only in Her Majesty’s government but also at the base of the Kunlun Cathedral.
If he, as a master, had punished the degenerate Kunlun disciples who practiced dark arts, it would have been the perfect political move.
He would have been able to boast to the Home Secretary and gain even more prestige at the Kunlun Cathedral.
Nevertheless, the reason he did not take action until the end was likely to avoid taking away my credit.
In other words, it means a proper trust has been established between me and the Postmaster General.
“Next time, inform me before you visit. I’ll have a gift prepared for you.”
As expected, Sir Fawcett displayed a friendly gesture toward me.
‘Expressing gratitude here seems appropriate.’
Considering that resolving this incident will earn me the trust of the Home Secretary,
I’ve now become acquainted with two members of Her Majesty’s Cabinet.
I can see it as an increase in connections I can mobilize when needed.
“Thank you for the Minister’s consideration.”
Before the regression, Professor James Moriarty had solid pipelines in politics and finance.
That is probably no different in this world either.
I judged that it would be good to prepare cards across various fields, in addition to Kung-Fu, to confront him.
For this, I planned to gradually challenge things I hadn’t even attempted before my regression, such as interacting with politicians.
Of course, I didn’t think my natural disposition would easily allow this.
“I will personally visit Zuckerberg & Co. next time to receive the fee for success.”
“You can expect great things. I do not hold back on repaying my benefactors.”
“If it is the son of the Zuckerberg family, I have no doubts about that.”
“I will send word as soon as preparations are complete.”
After seeing the Minister off, I bade farewell to Ulrich Zuckerberg, who smiled contentedly, having his worries resolved, and then returned to Baker Street with Watson.
“Oh my, Mr. Holmes. You’ve returned. And Dr. Watson too… But, Mr. Holmes, what happened to your clothes? They’re all torn!”
As soon as we returned to the boarding house, Mrs. Hudson sighed heavily at the sight of me.
It was understandable since the clothes I wore under the coat, which I had taken from the Phantom Fist, were all in tatters.
“There were unavoidable circumstances. They look beyond repair, so it’s best to discard them.”
I was eager to regale my tales of subduing the demon, but for now, I just wanted to rest.
After bidding farewell to Mrs. Hudson, I went upstairs, soaked in the tub to relieve my fatigue, and fell asleep as if dead. Watson also drank a cup of tea and then collapsed.
After some time, once I’d caught up on sleep and slowly awakened to complete my breathing exercises, I heard a knock from downstairs.
“From Scotland Yard!”
It seemed Lestrade had not forgotten and sent the requested item.
Careful not to wake the sleeping Watson, I quietly went down the stairs and received the parcel brought by Lestrade’s subordinate.
“That was fast.”
“The Inspector said to hurry and deliver it to you.”
After seeing the young constable off, I immediately returned upstairs to check the contents of the package.
<1881 Cambridge University Faculty Directory>
<1881 Oxford University Faculty Directory>
<1881 Royal Military Academy Faculty Directory>
What I received from Lestrade was a list containing the names of instructors who held teaching positions at the University and the Military Academy this year.
If my prediction is correct, Moriarty would have made a name for himself as an educator, even in this world.
However, the moment I personally visit the University to confirm this, my presence might be exposed to his subordinates hidden across the British Empire.
I requested the directory to confirm the legitimate identity he uses in this world without attracting Moriarty’s attention.
“I need to find out what the old villain teaches in a world where Kung-Fu exists, instead of mathematics.”
I began meticulously examining the three thick faculty directories to find the detestable name of James Moriarty.
Apart from the fact that the members of the London I returned to and the world I originally lived in had learned Kung-Fu, there was no vast difference.
Professor Moriarty would likely be teaching at one of the three academies here as well.
That’s what I thought.
“…Why is it not here?”
I scrutinized every page of the three directories, but nowhere could I find the name James Moriarty.
It’s true that I was disappointed by the mismatch of expectations, but I never thought it would be easy to find him from the start.
“I see.”
-Thud.
I closed the open directory and placed the pipe in my mouth.
Although I couldn’t confirm Moriarty’s name, I wasn’t naïve enough to think he doesn’t exist in this world.
“So, he won’t make it easy to find him, huh.”
James Moriarty exists in this world too, living not as a professor, but under a different identity.
This was indeed the most plausible hypothesis.
‘Should I start by investigating the family?’
Before the regression, Moriarty’s older and younger brothers were working as an army colonel and a stationmaster respectively, but they were unaware of the horrific deeds their brother was committing.
Therefore, obtaining information through blood relations wouldn’t be easy.
‘Is asking someone who might have met him the only option?’
Still, it’s not that there are no other methods.
The imprisoned Phantom Fist is expected to wake up soon.
It must have been Moriarty himself who taught him the so-called Telephone Punch trick and Demonic arts.
To gather the necessary information, Timothy Young must be interrogated directly.
‘I’ll need to hurry.’
I finished my preparations and immediately left the house.
The night streets of London, where the king of crime lurked, welcomed me.
- TL/N: The original quote is as follows—The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn’t exist. ️