The Fall by Annelie Wendeberg Read Free Book Online

would have to steadily enlarge them until Moriarty’s fortress fell.

— day 10 —  

    ‘T he master wishes to see you,’ announced Durham as I sat down to take breakfast.  
    ‘When?’
    ‘After you have eaten.’ He took his usual position next to the door, eyes directed at an imaginary spot above my head. He appeared vacant so long as I busied myself with my food. As soon as my gaze strayed across the tablecloth, his eyes darted towards mine, as though he wanted to chase my thoughts back into a dark cave. “Do not analyse!” his face seemed to tell me. I showed him a smile and he put his vacant mask back on. What a well-trained servant he was.
    How odd that Moriarty wanted to speak with me only one day after the laboratory had been set up and Goff and I were prepared to isolate bacteria. This request was certainly not a coincidence. I wondered how and when he had exchanged information with my assistant. In my ten days of capture, I had not seen or heard a single guest in the house. Moriarty himself was out frequently, and I wished I could follow him to find out where he kept my father.  
    I gazed down at my breakfast, wondering whether my father had enough to eat. I squeezed my eyes shut, but images of the lovely old man being mistreated, starved, and chained were impossible to get rid of.
    With a heavy sigh, I rose and walked to the study with Durham in my wake. The manservant closed the door behind me. Moriarty sat at his desk, poring over a pile of papers. He did not bother to look up as I walked to a chair and sat there, bolt upright, hands in my lap.
    ‘Good morning,’ he said, gathering up the paper and placing it into a drawer. ‘I would like you to assume anything could be possible.’ He looked up at me. ‘Controlling the spreading of the plague, for example. I want us to simply theorise about possibilities and how they can bring success.’ The low rasp of his voice contrasted each sharp “s,” as though the cat’s soft paw occasionally extended a claw to puncture my skin.
    I inclined my head, signalling agreement, while knowing that I would not give it.
    ‘Very well. I believe you require a little background on strategics and warfare in general?’
    ‘How can I be certain my father is treated well?’ I interrupted.
    ‘I give you my word that he is.’
    My short laugh brought the rage back into his face. ‘You question the word of a gentleman?’ he asked.
    ‘Certainly.’
    ‘I do not care the least whether you believe me or not.’
    ‘I think you do,’ I said.
    ‘You give yourself too much credit.’
    ‘If I had reason to believe that you tortured or even murdered my father, I would do the same to you.’
    ‘I would not give you an opportunity.’
    ‘I would find one.’
    His eyes darkened. ‘You would die trying.’
    ‘I am aware of that.’
    ‘You just told me that you lied.’
    I pulled up my eyebrows.
    ‘A few days ago you tried to make me believe that you wanted to cooperate with me, and now you tell me you want to kill me.’
    ‘Of course I do! Can you not comprehend that my father is dear to me? That he is more precious to me than my life or career?’ A cold smile adorned his face and I added quietly, ‘Can you not imagine that the men funding your research into germ warfare would be interested in employing me, once you were dead?’  
    At the time of the Club, Moriarty’s research had been paid by several wealthy men. Holmes had arrested them together with all medical doctors who had experimented, on paupers, with dangerous diseases. It was only logical that even now, Moriarty had more than only his private funds to pay for bacterial weapons.  
    ‘You are playing a dangerous game, my dear-’
    ‘ You started it. I would happily do what you ask if you were not treating me like your prisoner. By holding my father hostage, you are making me your enemy. This wasn’t even necessary! You could have simply come to the Downs and asked me.’
    ‘You lie. You were hiding