Miss Holmes, the Professor Is Not a Villain

15 – The Worst Meeting with Miss Holmes (15)

A stint of silence prevailed, making the girl restless. She desperately wished the man to break the silence.

That man, who she once admired so much, perhaps even admired to this day.

She was still young, too young to comprehend complex emotions that could occur between humans. Hence, facing Moriarty might have rendered her even more confused.

No, it can’t be. He couldn’t do it. It simply wasn’t possible.

The girl tried hard to convince herself of the answers she wanted to hear. However, Moriarty broke the silence.

Despite her desperate wish for him to break the silence, in that moment, Sherlock could only scream inwardly, forever wishing the man had remained silent.

“What are you talking about, Sherlock?”

A question neither affirmative nor negative.

But Sherlock had already found the answer in Moriarty’s expression. No, the man had allowed the girl to read the answer.

Sherlock knew that too. So, she unknowingly bit her lips tightly. She was still a fragile child, so no blood flowed from her lips. However, her small fists were clenched tightly, trembling as if they were about to break any moment.

Why did she notice it only now? Why was her instructor like this? A myriad of questions arose. It allowed Sherlock to understand why adult women faint so frequently.

As much as the image of a woman fainting exists, she needed to fake fainting to escape when she wanted to.

But the girl was unlucky. Sherlock was strong, and her strength had turned into a tragedy.

“Professor, is it you?”

The exact same question spilled again from Sherlock’s lips. But this time, it was similar to a beast growling at a person on the other side of the bars.

Because of that, Moriarty wore a smile of unclear meaning.

No matter how much the beast behind the bars bared its teeth, it cannot bite a human.

Moriarty casually shrugged his shoulders, trying to call the girl over.

“Sherlock.”

“Do not call me by my name!”

But this time, even Moriarty was a bit startled. Despite knowing that the girl wasn’t capable of anything, he involuntarily stepped back due to her intimidating aura.

However, Moriarty was absolutely superior. Because he was the teacher, and the young, naive girl in front of him was his student who needed to learn.

He could be lenient with a student’s confusion. If the student in question was his adoring and special student, he could even endure their tantrums.

“Right, Holmes. You come to me and start asking strange questions… I don’t quite understand the meaning behind your actions.”

Over the past few months, the girl had already opened up enough to allow the man to address her by her name.

The still young girl probably hadn’t fully realized it yet, maybe the man in front of her was her first love.

Which is why, despite berating him, when the man called her Holmes, a strange distance could be felt. And that distance was regrettable.

The fact that she was still tormented by such emotions infuriated the girl. Nevertheless, emotions, the result of various chemical substances inside the brain, were generally illogical, and the girl could not control it at will.

At the same time, the girl felt half-driven by anger. Therefore, the girl took a breath and opened her mouth.

“I found this… in my father’s library, professor.”

The girl took out a crumpled envelope from her pocket and waved it. There was no change in Moriarty’s expression as he looked at it.

Seeing his shameless expression, Holmes gritted her teeth and began to speak.

“At the very least, you can see that this envelope… was mailed to my mother. But there’s no sender, it’s only the handwriting… the handwriting is the issue.”

“At least it’s not mine, Holmes. You should know that by now, my handwriting isn’t the same as the one on the envelope.”

“You have mentioned it in the class. It’s a story from Count of Monte Cristo, but if right-handed people write with their left hand, they can hide their handwriting. It’s exactly the same.”

“Holmes, even back in England, people read Dumas’s novels. As you’ve said, it does look like someone copied the content of the novel in the letter. However, based on just that, you’re not implying that I wrote that letter, are you?”

Instead of answering, Sherlock glared at Moriarty. They already knew each other’s answer. Their relationship was not something that could simply be described in words and could bridge the gap of thirteen years.

At the very least, the girl knew that Moriarty had confirmed her quest.

Moriarty pulled out his pocket watch and calmly checked the time. Putting it back into his pocket, he clapped his hands as if to start a lesson at home, emitting a bright smile as he opened his mouth.

“Well, alright, Miss Holmes. Given that the situation allows it, it’d be good to have a final lesson before parting. Shall we sit and discuss?”

“Shut up and speak!”

“It’ll be a while before we meet again, Holmes. That’s a bit too much. If your mother were alive, she would have told you to speak like a lady, wouldn’t she? Ah, I apologize. That was a mistake.”

As soon as her mother was mentioned, Sherlock trembled as if she was ready to pounce and attack Moriarty. Moriarty twitched his head, as if making a nasty joke was a slip of the tongue and attempting an apology.

With that, Moriarty started his final lesson.

“Well, fine. The tragic event of Mr. Holmes and Mrs. Holmes is indeed regrettable, Miss Holmes. So… everyone knows that when there were severe domestic disputes in this neighborhood, Pastor Holmes pointed a gun which isn’t loaded… the rather inappropriate habit. Of course, usually the gun is safely stored in the pastor’s room, but fortunately, everyone in the family knows where the key to the room is and bullets are stored in a safe… but opening the safe is quite easy, it’s not a bank safe, at least for people like you or Mycroft, or people like me. Isn’t it?”

Sherlock was silent. Instead, she glared at Moriarty as if she wanted to kill him. Even while feeling slighted, Moriarty continued the lesson.

“You wish for Mrs. Holmes to enjoy a break from routine, either through suitable stimulation or a simple tea time with a young man? Even if that were to be the case, there would clearly be a conflict with the Reverend, but what would happen if someone were to incite a little more jealousy? Someone to subtly fan the flames, and act like they’re showing off in front of the Reverend. Oh, of course it would be difficult for the average person, having to be careful not to arouse suspicion. Sherlock, only someone like you or I could pull this off, don’t you agree? We have so much in common.”

There was silence once more. It was getting a little lackluster. At this point, the girl should have been throttling his neck in a fit of half-lost sanity.

Unfortunately, but since there was a more entertaining reaction remaining, Moriarty continued his lecture.

“Ultimately, someone must have sent the letter you found, while keeping the rival hidden, to make things certain. Specifically, it was gingerly placed on Reverend Holmes’ desk, though the envelope was addressed to Mrs. Holmes, it was really a letter intended for the Reverend. When he sees the slightly inappropriate content written within, the Reverend, who can’t bear suspicion and rage, will end up picking up a gun and frantically seeking his wife.

Of course, in the process, there’s also the possibility that he might have appropriately had a drink to calm his anger, but there’s no real problem. People’s habits can be careless, so he wouldn’t even think to check if the gun is unloaded. So, what happens to the letter then? Wouldn’t it remain as the evidence you so love?”

Luckily, his pupil finally spoke. Moriarty could understand why professors who asked questions during lectures were so pleased when they received a response.

“My father… values his family’s honor. No matter how angry he might have been, he would have probably destroyed the letter with his own hands, deeming it inappropriate. He’ll have thought that showing it to others would irreversibly destroy everything. I think he would have believed that he could solve this as usual, either by persuading…my mother or losing his temper. People like you… obviously must have calculated all of this.”

“Next is, regretfully, a tragic event took place. The honorable Reverend and his wife both arrived in Heaven a tad early, and you three siblings gained your freedom. Cheers, Miss Holmes. Your big brother, Sherinford, at least, is a woke companion; he’ll support you and cherish you, no matter the path you choose to walk. You wish to become the UK’s top detective, no, an investigative consultant was it? You surely can be one.”

Moriarty applauded tersely. But his sincerity was enclosed in it. He genuinely wished for the girl’s prosperous future.

Unfortunately, it seemed as though Miss Holmes, who either did not appreciate his sincerity or pretended not to notice, merely glared at him as if she wanted to kill him.

Sherlock was still confused. No matter how clever a child, everything happening to her now was too chaotic to fully comprehend.

Even the tragic and sudden loss of her parents was tough for the girl to manage. And accepting that the person who caused this farewell was someone she admired and liked was also difficult.

However, her pragmatic mind did not deny such truth. And the sadder thing was that the very person who enabled this was the terrible man, she revered, standing before her.

As he taught her, eliminating all impossible solutions, at least her intuition, grown through the man’s help, was indicating that the man was the criminal.

Was that the reason?

As Holmes was glaring at Moriarty as if she wanted to kill him, a tear unwittingly slid down one of her eyes.

She could not yet fully accept the betrayal from the person she admired, and she could not comprehend why he orchestrated this. But, as it was in her nature to be just, she had to do what she needed to do.

“I…I trusted and liked you. I… don’t know why you did this, but… but! I know for certain, you’re a villain, a terrible villain!”

Yet, Moriarty’s response was still the kind that a young girl could hardly comprehend. Instead of a response, Moriarty sighed heavily, like a professor discovering a student’s elementary mistake.

The girl could only be taken aback. What was he implying even in this moment?

The game was already over. Sherlock had uncovered Moriarty’s malicious plan, and she was confident that she could escape to the mansion even if the furious man tried to capture her.

She was planning not to make the same naive mistake as their first encounter and tried to gradually step back to create some distance.

Fortunately, the girl was naturally nimbler than her peers, and she was well aware through her past year of experience that the man wasn’t particularly athletically inclined.

However, Moriarty’s response forced her to halt her steps.

“Miss Holmes, your teacher is not a villain.”

Professor Moriarty said with a smirk to the detective Sherlock Holmes.