The Revenge of Moriarty by John E. Gardner

went down like flies. On the fourth day a mild breeze shifted the pea-souper and the sun, weak and as though strained through a fine muslin, lit up the great metropolis once more. But those who were familiar with the city weather predicted a long and hard winter.
    On the evening of Thursday, 29 October, Moriarty had a visitor. He came off the boat train at Victoria Station, a tall skeleton of a man, wrapped in a long black overcoat which had seen better days. On his head a wide-brimmed, clerical-looking hat covered an untidy clump of wispy fine grey hair, and his beard gave one the impression that it had been gnawed by rats. He carried a large portmanteau and spoke English with a rough French accent.
    Coming out of the station, he took an omnibus to Notting Hill and walked the rest of the way to Albert Square. His name was Pierre Labrosse. He had travelled from Paris in answer to the Professor’s letter, and at his coming Moriarty’s revenge was afoot.
    * The true name has been altered and it should not be confused with any existing Albert Square.
    * A mythical peerage jocularly bestowed on persons dressed or behaving in a manner above their natural status.
    * A great deal more will be heard of this lady. It is well to recall, however, that she is famous for her great brush with Sherlock Holmes as recounted by Dr Watson in A Scandal in Bohemia , to which further reference will be made. On Dr Watson’s word we have it that ‘To Sherlock Holmes she is always the woman.’
    * Which newspaper this was is not recorded. It was certainly either old or slow with the gathering of news. Gladstone’s Liverpool speech – incidentally his last – took place on the 24th. During the previous month Armenian revolutionaries had attacked the Ottoman Bank in Constantinople: an action which provoked a three-day massacre.
    * Those who have read the earlier chronicle will recall that Moriarty was much taken with a stage magician he saw performing at the Alhambra Theatre and it seems that from this time onwards, the Professor took a keen interest in the art of prestidigitation.

LONDON:
    Thursday, 29 October – Monday, 16 November 1896
    (The art of robbery)
    â€˜Of course I am able to do it. Who else? There is nobody in the whole of Europe who could make a copy as well as I. Why would you send for me if this were not so?’
    Pierre Labrosse had a wild macabre look about him, like a scarecrow marionette worked by an unseen drunken puppeteer. He lolled in a chair opposite Moriarty, a glass of absinth – which seemed to be his staple diet – in one hand, the other skinny arm gesticulating in a grandiose manner.
    They had dined in private and now Moriarty had cause to question whether or not he had made a wise choice in sending for Labrosse. There were many other artists in Europe who could have done the copy equally as well, if not better. Reginald Leftly, constantly insolvent portrait painter and aspiring academician, to name but one within easy reach.
    The Professor had chosen Labrosse only after much thought, having met him but once, during his period in the European wilderness following the Reichenbach business. On that occasion he had acknowledged the man’s instability, at the same time recognizing his great gifts. Labrosse was, in plain truth, a self-styled genius who, had he applied himself to original creation, could possibly have made a great name for himself. As it was. the only name he had made was with the Sûreté.
    The letter which the Professor had written to him on returning to London had been carefully worded, giving little hint of what he required, yet containing enough to bring the painter to England. In particular there had been guarded references to the man’s great skill and reputation, and a hint of riches to be earned. Yet now that he had Labrosse safe in Albert Square, Moriarty could not help having second thoughts regarding his choice. In the time which had elapsed