The Chronicles of Sherlock Holmes by Paul Gilbert

preparations for an imminent departure. I picked my way carefully around the many objects strewn about that impeded my progress and silently opened the door that gave on to the front hallway.
    ‘The only visible light in the place came from the room that I had just noticed being illuminated from my vantage point outside. Though the light barely crept from under the door to that room, there was sufficient to reveal the staircase that led to it. I managed to gain the upper landing without alerting the room’s occupant and soon found myself standing breathlessly outside it, contemplating my immediate course of action.
    ‘The sound of rustling papers from within indicated to me that the person inside was not preparing to confront me. Then a familiar voice, cursing the name of the incapacitated Parker, immediately spurred me to action. I tested the handle to the door, which yielded. I threw back the door sovigorously that it crashed into the wall, and I strode purposefully into the room. As a precaution I locked the door behind me and then announced: ‘Good morning, Professor Moriarty!’
    ‘More surprised by the crash of the door than my announcement, I am sure, Moriarty slowly turned from the papers that he had been packing into an attaché-case, to face me. Almost unrecognizable in the guise of Maupertuis, certain unique physical traits betrayed him to me. No amount of facial hair could disguise the inherent evil of his cold, forbidding eyes. Nor could he still the peculiar, reptilian oscillation of his head, with which he was afflicted. His thin lips twisted into a peculiar smile.
    ‘“Ah, Mr Holmes, of course. I was a fool to think that my little deception would fool so astute a mind. However, I observe that you are alone, so perhaps my elaborate attempts at luring you to me were somewhat more successful.”
    ‘By now Moriarty and I were barely three feet apart and our eyes burned into each other’s, searching for signs of weakness. The excitement and anticipation of being so close to this epitome of evil, whom I had sought out for so long, were almost beyond my control. However I managed to deliver my response in a cold, disaffected manner.
    ‘“If you are referring to the clumsy attempt upon the life of my brother Mycroft, I must inform you now that it has also ended in abject failure. Your would-be assassin, Parker, I believe, was only successful in eliminating a hapless clerk!”
    ‘I was gratified to note that, upon hearing this news, his twisted smile soon faded and he turned away towards the window as he answered me.
    ‘“Your strange use of the word ‘also’ indicates that mytheory regarding the loss of the Dying Gaul was sound. I deduced your meddling hand, at the outset, for my reasoning and planning were faultless.”
    ‘“Surely subsequent events have revealed that statement to be erroneous. Indeed it was merely bad timing that prevented you from falling into my hands at the villa in Tivoli,” I replied without realizing that while his back had been to me he had been extracting a small object from the pocket of his robe.
    ‘“So it is I who am supposed to have fallen into your hands?” Moriarty asked maliciously, turning round to face me once more. This time his right hand revealed his deadly response!
    ‘“It is no use. Your pistol changes nothing, Moriarty! Parker, your last accomplice, is now held in police custody, whilst my friend Dr Watson, together with Inspector Lestrade are, even now, beating a path to this very room. The net is closing upon you for the last time.” I stated with feigned bravado.
    ‘Then a change overtook his countenance, as if he knew that he could never face the ignominy of arrest, trial and the gallows. His eyes rolled up to the top of his head and he turned away from me once more.
    ‘“Oh, but Mr Holmes, for once at least you are to be proved incorrect. My pistol does indeed change things … most emphatically …” In an instant, before I could even