" 'The special train which is planned for carrying Lord East's priceless treasure is to consist of twenty cars — ten goods wagons for the collection, and ten special troop cars for the military escort. Unusual precautions are being taken to safeguard the treasure, which our correspondent is given to believe has been threatened by an Indian secret society dedicated to the overthrow of the British raj.
" 'Lord East has held the title of Viceroy for the past six years, and is generally considered to have been most effective in spreading British rule throughout the subcontinent and bringing the civilizing influence of British law and custom to every corner of this vast land.' "
"He has also," Moriarty said, interrupting Barnett's reading, "succeeded in looting a five-thousand-year-old civilization of such items as were gaudy or valuable enough to catch his fancy, and in the process has damaged, defaced, or utterly destroyed everything he touched that he didn't covet or understand. The man is a vandal."
Barnett put the paper aside. "I have an intimation of what the problem is that you have been pondering for the past few days," he said. "Considering this article, paired with the fact that a gentleman of Indian background has been visiting you of late."
"Ah, Barnett, there is something of the investigator in you after all. Which is to the good, as that is what I've been principally employing you for during these past two years." Moriarty left the room and preceded Barnett down to his study. "I assume you wish to speak to me," he said, settling into the leather chair behind his massive desk.
"A few words, Professor," Barnett said. "I have to leave the house shortly, but I thought I'd better apprise you of a decision I've made."
Moriarty silently studied Barnett for a few seconds. "You have my approval and my blessings, for what they're worth," he said. "The state of matrimony is not for me. By its nature it cannot be an equal relationship, and I would take neither part of an unequal relationship. But I think you, if I may use a metaphor, are the sort of ship that needs a rudder."
Barnett's face turned bright pink. "Come now, Professor," he said, staring down at Moriarty, "how can you possibly know what I intend to ask you before I have done so?"
"An elementary problem, my dear Barnett. Our agreement terminates in a little over a month, I believe?"
"That is so."
"Yes. And it has been preying on your mind. You have made several oblique references to the fact over the past weeks. Usually during dinner. So, after two years of harmonious association, you wish to go your own way."
"How do you know I don't wish to extend the contract for another year or two?" Barnett asked.
"It seems clear that in that case it wouldn't occupy your thoughts. You know that I find our association satisfactory, so you can't be concerned as to whether I am preparing to throw you out. It must be that you are preparing to sever the connection. But by the same token, if you had already definitely decided to leave, you would certainly have informed me shortly after making the decision. You would, as you might say, get it off your chest."
"Probably," Barnett admitted.
"So, when my observations and deductions had taken me that far, I was faced with the following question: here is my trusted as-sociate planning to leave my service. But his plans aren't definite, or he would certainly have informed me. Therefore, his leavetaking is predicated upon some future event that might not happen as anticipated. At first, I will admit, I contemplated the possibility that you had received an offer from some other organization; something perhaps entirely inside the law, something offering more remuneration or more interesting and varied assignments."
"Professor—"
Moriarty held up his hand. "But upon reflection," he said, "I realized that that could not be. You are not unhappy here. You are one of those who finds a necessary vitality in the practice of our endeavors. Quick thinking, fast response, the ever-present scent of danger; these things serve as anodyne and stimulant to you."
"I admit to feeling more alert, even more vital, when I'm risking my life and liberty in your employ," Barnett said. "But I am not altogether sure that it is the most sensible way to achieve that result."
"So far my logic took me," Moriarty said. "Some further reflection made it evident that you were preparing to propose marriage to Miss Cecily Perrine. If she accepts, you will wish to leave my employ, it being unchivalrous to ask her to wed someone who might conceivably be convicted of a felony."
"That is so," Barnett said.
"Therefore I offered you my approval and blessings."
"It is pointless to try to keep a secret from you, Professor," Barnett said. "I am meeting Miss Perrine for luncheon, and I expect to broach the subject to her at that time."
"I doubt whether you will surprise the young lady, either," Moriarty commented. "In my experience, although the man does the proposing, he is often the last to know."
"I'm afraid that I shall have to give up my services to you, except for those which come through the American News Service," Barnett said. "This Indian venture will probably be the last effort in which I am directly involved."
"Are you sure you desire to take part in this one?" Moriarty asked. "After all, with only a month left, and a marriage impending—"
"The lady hasn't accepted me yet," Barnett said. "I certainly hope she will, but if not I will surely need something to keep my mind off her refusal. And if she does accept, well, I'm sure the marriage will be several months off. And, after reading the newspaper description—" He paused. "Well, let me put it this way. If you are planning to remove a treasure shipment from either the Hornblower or a troop train, that's something I wouldn't miss for the world!"
FOURTEEN — THE ART OF DETECTION
And lo, between the sundown and the sun,
His day's work and his night's work are undone;
And lo, between the nightfall and the light,
He is not, and none knoweth
of
such an one.
— Algernon Charles Swinburne
If you are not satisfied with my reports, or with the progress I've made in the investigation," Sherlock Holmes said, rising from his caneback chair and fixing his sharp, piercing gaze on the man across the desk, "then by all means get another investigator. I shall consider myself off the case from this moment, and I shall submit no bill. Please call your clerk and ask him to retrieve my overcoat."
"No, no, Mr. Holmes, you misunderstand," the Earl of Arundale said, leaping to his feet and placing a placating hand on Holmes's arm. "We are all distressed that this murderer has not been apprehended, but I am satisfied that no man could have done more than you in the attempt. Your reports are, indeed, full of detail that was overlooked or unseen by the regular police."
Holmes dropped back onto the brocade-covered seat of his chair and stared glumly across the desk. "I apologize for taking offense so easily, my lord," he said. "But this is a vexatious problem with which you have presented me. With each subsequent murder our killer manages to make himself more obscure. This is contrary to my experience. There is something — some essential fact — which connects these killings, which I am failing to grasp. I'm certain that it is there, in those documents, staring me in the face. I have gone over them for countless hours, both the police reports and my own notes. I sense that the answer is there, sometimes I feel that I almost have it, and yet it eludes me."