This idea was inspired by another's story here on FF.n and although I've had this idea for years, it is only now that I've actually found the inspiration to spin the tale into words to make it believable. I hope you enjoy it and find it just as plausible as I have. And yes the title is a twist off of The Phantom Menance I couldn't resist. :D


The Phantom Mastermind Mystery

"If you are far from the enemy, make him believe you are near." - Sun Tzu

4th, May 1891 – Reichenbach Falls, Switzerland

The roar of the falls as they poured over the cliff side and crashed down into the watery chasm bellow was deafening to the ear. The spray of water misted up over the edge of the path in which I stood upon, dampening the dirt beneath my feet into a soft mud and giving everything else a light sheen of misty dew while I waited at a moss covered rock for my opponent to make his approach for our final confrontation. Moments before, my friend and chronicler had received a message from a boy about a woman in need of a doctor and thus he had left me alone above the lower falls of Reichenbach to return to the village and see what he could do. I knew the message had been false but still I encouraged my friend away in the hopes to protect him should I fail to dispatch the gentleman who had sent the deception. Though I wish now more than ever that he had stayed at my side. It would have made enduring the conversation to come all the more bearable for me.

My attention was brought away from a fleeting bird darting in and out of a nearby tree across the falls and no doubt making all sorts of a ruckus at whatever it was that had agitated it, to the sound of approaching footsteps crunching against the naturally graveled path as the gentleman that was the object of our attentions for the last week, and for me the last several months, finally made his appearance on the world stage once more. He had not changed since I had last scene him days ago in my flat on Baker Street, his head still oscillated back and forth like some sinister reptile and his shoulders still bowed over from too much study when in actuality it was just another symptom of the disease that was ailing him.

Watson had dampened my mood on my triumph over this man when he explained to me that my opponent, based on my description of him alone, was suffering from Shaky Palsy[1], a neurological disorder that not only affected the body's motor functions, but a man's speech pattern and mental faculties as well. It would explain why Moriarty had slipped after so many years of being anonymous and careful in his schemes.

His mind was leaving him.

I wondered if he realized this and whether it affected his decision to face his destroyer rather than flee to the continent and rebuild his criminal empire once everything had quieted down. If it had, I could so see no other outcome from this encounter other than one of us, if not both, dying. The thought of losing ones mental faculties was a frightening thought, a fear even I considered every now and then. I could only imagine what fear he felt when he was told of his terminal illness.

I did not pity him though. In a way it was Nature's way of bringing justice to a man who has brought nothing but pain and misery to every soul he indirectly manipulated and controlled. It was also Nature's way in stopping such an individual, albeit it was a slow process. If I had not discovered the pattern in several crimes committed in London and along the countryside, I was confident that his own men would have eventually seen to his downfall once his weakness became apparent to them. That was the downside to being a crime king in the criminal world. The wolves that served him would eventually have turned against him.

The good professor stopped short of me and met my gaze with his own equally determined one. He looked nothing like a criminal that one would expect from such a creature. If I had not known any better, I would have thought him nothing more than a gentleman with a sinister temperament such was his appearance with a travelers attire and a walking cane. He looked nothing more like another English tourist come to visit the infamous falls that served as a backdrop to our meeting.

"So it has finally come to this," said he as he tucked his cane under his arm and carefully removed his gloves and then proceeded to stuff them into a pocket on his dark coat before covering the last of the distance between us. I stood from my perch on the rock and warily kept my distance. If he took my behavior as an affront, he did not show it. Instead, he merely took my place and leaned against the boulder and studied me.

"It was inevitable," said I, reaching into my own coat to retrieve my silver cigarette case. He gestured to it with his right hand and I noticed a slight tremble in the appendage before I held out the case to him to partake a cigarette for himself. It was ironic how two men of opposing sides continued to behave like gentlemen out for a leisurely stroll and conversation rather than two enemies intent on killing the other. I lit his cigarette for him before doing the same to my own and we allowed the silence to continue between us while we enjoyed the vice for but a few moments.

"You still stand fast?" he finally asked after another minute had passed.

I nodded minutely in reply.

The criminal mastermind sighed softly, almost regretfully before taking a final drag on the cigarette and snuffing it out against the rock. "It is a shame then. My superior had hoped you would see reason and desist with your persecution of his affairs. He really does not wish harm to befall you, but knows it will be a necessity if he wishes to keep his own liberty as well as my own."

I must have worn my confusion on my face for he began to smile knowingly to a child who had thought he knew everything but really knew absolutely nothing. "Superior?" I stammered a few moments after collecting my wits and composure from the surprise. All the evidence I had pursued and gathered had pointed to him as being the leader of the criminal organization I and Patterson had been fighting for the last several months. How could it even be possible that Moriarty answered to someone above him when there was no indication that there was someone else higher? It was unfeasible.

Impossible even.

He chuckled slightly at watching me try and puzzle over this new information. "Did you really believe that a mere professor of mathematics could control and manipulate an organization of the size that which you have so well disassembled?"

"Considering that the evidence leads only to you," said I, "Yes."

"Yes. I suppose you would come to that conclusion based on what he allowed you to find." My opponent shifted against the boulder before reaching into his coat for something. I stiffened at his actions and was ready to spring upon him should he produce a revolver. He only chuckled at my reaction to his movements and I relaxed somewhat once the object of question was revealed to be nothing more than his notebook and briefly I wondered if there was any information within it that may reveal as to who his master was, if there really was such a person above him. But his confidence at that there being such was enough for me to begin questioning my entire case against him.

Who was this phantom mastermind?

"You have been quite the nuisance in his plans," said he after he flipped to the appropriate page he desired. "Allow me to reiterate that which has already been said so that you may be better enlightened as to how well manipulated you have been. On the fourth of January you had crossed my path, on the twenty-third you had incommoded me, by the middle of February you had seriously inconvenienced me, and by the end of March you have left me with little room to enact my plans and with the close of April and where we stand now in May, I am left with only my liberty."

"I am well aware of the facts, please do get to the point," I said and folded my arms across my chest while I waited for him to continue and to make sure he did so at a faster pace, I reminded him that I had not come alone. "Watson will not be fooled by your ruse for very long and I do believe you would rather prefer that this confrontation remain solely between ourselves."

"Indeed." He wetted the tip of his thumb and flipped through his notebook until he found the appropriate page once more for his continuation of the conversation. "In January I had made the mistake in trusting a newly initiated lieutenant with a task that even my lower officers could have easily dealt with and perhaps much better than he. This misjudgment of mine then led you to discover a vital piece of evidence that linked at least two crimes to this lieutenant and thus had you upon our scent like a blue-tick bloodhound. Because of my carelessness, to put a better word for it, I became incommoded by you through my superior when he expressed his displeasure to me in allowing you to discover our operations so easily. When you continued to disassemble his London branch despite my best efforts to cover my tracks thereafter in an attempt to throw you off the scent; in February he had begun to make plans to see to it that all connections between he and the London branch were severed. Thus as March passed I found myself left hanged to dry and to salvage what I could of my part of his organization. In April, just as my liberty was becoming seriously threatened by you, he gave me one last chance to save myself by being rid of the gentleman who had dismantled his London branch. With you and your evidence destroyed, he could then begin to rebuild in London and I could resume my mantle as the leader."

The last part was said with the hopefulness of a fool, I knew. Here was a man who had been seriously inconvenienced by an outsider, so much so that he had been witness to as well as the cause of the destruction of his little Empire in London that his superior no longer saw him as a useful asset but more of an inconvenient liability. If I did not know any better, the mastermind was manipulating me to dispose of his ailing subordinate as punishment for his failure. If Moriarty were to succeed in killing me, I highly doubted that he would ever return to the same power and luxury that he had had before January.

"You said London was a branch, how far exactly does this organization extend?" I inquired. I was curious to exactly how big this empire was.

"The entire British Empire and some trading countries," he answered honestly, obviously believing that any information he told me would go with me to my grave. The professor closed his notebook and returned it to his coat's inner pocket before continuing. "Possibly even further than that. I know for certain that he has branches in Chicago, Paris, Berlin, Hamburg, and St. Petersberg."

I pursed my lips as I took these new details in. If the professor was telling the truth, the gentleman who controlled him had quite an extensive web of influence across Europe and the British colonies. "So you are merely but one lieutenant of many that he commands, a lord in command of a piece of land within a criminal empire."

"Essentially."

"It is... impressive to say the least," I said. The professor watched me intently as I realized I was pacing back and forth along the precipice of the Reichenbach path, completely engrossed by the story that he was feeding me. I will admit that I found it most intriguing and if there was any inclining of truth about what he was telling me than I have had yet the chance to achieve the pinnacle of my career as a consulting detective like I thought I would have done with the capture or death of the professor. Moriarty was only a slice of a much larger piece of cake, whose size was unimaginable if what the professor had told me was true. This person, this phantom mastermind, has to have a position of power somewhere within the British government. It could be the only theory I could come to that could explain how he could have such an incredible influence aboard. An independent individual would have been noticed by the government long ago. Unless said individual was such a genius that he managed to remain hidden even from them?

Preposterous! No man could be that smart. Not even my brother had that much intelligence! Such an individual would have to be omnipotent and that is just not humanly possible!

I shook my head of the ridiculous thoughts. I was postulating without facts, an egregious habit that I did not like to indulge but my imagination had the tendency to slip toward unsuspectingly. I stopped my pacing and faced the professor once more. I had to know who this person was and once I knew (or didn't) I knew I needed to survive this encounter so that I may put an end to his nefarious enterprise. It was my duty both as a British citizen and as a human being.

"Who?" I simply asked of him and the man laughed in reply. I scowled most annoyingly at him and took a step back when he rose to his feet. "You could grace me with a final request and allow me to die in knowing who it was that brought about my downfall?"

Moriarty simply smiled at me and shook his head. "Even I am not so foolish enough as to reveal who employs me, Mister Holmes. If you survive this encounter, then such knowledge is for me to know and for you to find out. But I will say this, the individual you seek is someone you already know."

Already know? That could be any number of people!

"How very helpful, Professor," I retorted and tensed noticeably as he twisted the top of his cane and unsheathed a hidden sword. I was grateful to have my own cane with me but I would have preferred Watson's own since it had a hidden blade inside the rare African snakewood. I desperately wished my friend was here now with me. If there was any truth in the conversation in which we just had, I needed to survive this confrontation and with Watson at my side, I would have been assured of success. Now, though, I was worried that I would die here and this criminal mastermind that orchestrated this encounter would continue to pursue his sinful occupation unhindered.

"They say that the greatest deceiver is not Satan himself, Mister Holmes, but those whom are closest to you that continue the lie that has deceived you," he said as he approached with his sword and I raised my cane in a feeble attempt at defense, wondering exactly what he was insinuating with that comment. "The truth hurts and that is why you must die here and now."

"I do not quite follow, do please elucidate?" I asked while we squared off for the fight that was to come, like two cocks ready to do battle to the death.

"Besides giving me a chance at redemption, my superior does not wish for you to learn this truth," said he and he closed the distance between us, finally engaging me in a duel for our lives. His blade clashed and chipped away at my cane, the sounds of our battle echoing even louder than the roar of the falls behind us. I knew I was at a disadvantage in this duel and taking the only option I had in the fight, I stepped into his personal space and gripped at his coat lapels and sword arm, thus effectively rendering his weapon useless and turning this duel into a brawl.

"You still have yet to elaborate as to why he wishes me to remain ignorant besides the obvious," I grunted as we struggled at the very edge of the cliff. I could clearly hear the churning water below us and my stomach twisted into a knot of fear at the thought of falling into those dangerous waters. But as quickly as it had come, I forced it to the back of my mind and focused on overpowering my opponent and figuring out who his master is. Whoever he was, the man really had no need to threaten my life since I had been in ignorance of his presence. With the death of Moriarty and the destruction of the professor's criminal ring in London, I would have lived on believing I had reached the end of my career and cleaned England of a most foul presence.

Perhaps this mastermind was unawares that Moriarty was trying to kill me and that the only reason the man was telling me any of this was to get back at him for condemning him to the gallows rather than a redemption like he wanted me to believe? That would indicate that the identity of this phantom was of a personal nature. His next words confirmed that much.

"He would rather see you dead then see your spirit broken, Mister Holmes! The truth as to who he is would cost you that spirit," he laughed most manically when he managed to knock my feet from under me, causing us both to fall to the ground. Almost half of my body was over the edge of the cliff, my dark gray hat falling from me to float away toward the bottom that was so far away from us. Moriarty was on top of me, trying to push me over the edge with his sheer will and strength.

"Who is he!" I demanded and the wild look of murderous intent in his eyes told me enough that he was never going to tell me despite my desperate need to know.

"You'll find out soon enough once you are dead!" he sneered and rose up with both fists filled with a large rock he had grabbed from nearby with the intention of battering my head in. I never gave him the chance. With a simple technique of my legs and feet, I managed to grapple his body and then grabbing his downward thrusting arms with my own hands, I twisted him off of me and away. I would not know what I had done until I heard his cry of surprise and then screams of fear as he overbalanced, then scrambled for purchase on the edge of the cliff we were on before disappearing from sight.

Quickly I rolled over and looked beyond the edge at the churning chasm below. There was nothing remaining of the professor that I could see. The misty cloud that hid a good portion of the base of the falls obscured my view and although I could not see a body, I knew he could not have survived the fall much less prevent himself from drowning later. Professor James Moriarty, leader of the London criminal ring, was finally gone from this world and I, Sherlock Holmes, was left with too many questions and doubts now.

The puzzle Moriarty left with me I would have to figure at a later date, for now I just wanted to lay there on the cliff, catching my breath and strength before I would make the trek back to the village and to my friend, Watson. However, I did not stay there for much longer by any choice of my own. No. Not some minutes after Moriarty had fallen to his death, I soon realized he had not come alone or perhaps he had and this mystery mastermind had sent a minion to see to it that either of us were killed here for I saw a shadow on the cliffs above and knew I was not alone.

Without further hesitation, I picked up my cane and reassembled Moriarty's and after leaving the note I had previously written for Watson in the event of my death with my cigarette case, I quickly made my way to the cliff wall with the intention of scaling it and getting out of sight of whoever it was that had followed Moriarty here. Why was I attempting to deceive my friend when I should be retreating back down the path to meet up with him? I reasoned with myself that I was only doing it because of the looming threat of this unknown man for if Moriarty's compatriot (or tail) returned to him with tales of my survival and conversation with the Professor, the danger to my person would not be over with the death of said man. This phantom mastermind would see me as a threat until either I had unmasked him or he had killed me.

Either way, I could not return to London.

Not until I was certain that this compatriot had not told of what I knew.

Said murderous fiend was quite intent on seeing me smashed upon the rocks or underneath one either way, for as soon as my friend had returned, done his investigation of the area and cried my name in the vain hope I had survived, and then gone to report back to the world of my demise, the man above me began raining large rocks down at me to the point that I could no longer stay where I was hidden upon an upper ledge. As soon as I had returned to the path, I fled from Reichenbach and did not stop until I was some ten miles away.

It would not be until three years later before I could and would return to London, confident in the knowledge that this unknown criminal overlord was unawares that I knew of his presence and the last and only link I had to him had just made a grievous error. My fight against this man had only just begun with the downfall of Moriarty. Upon my return and with the imprisonment of Colonel Moran, I would learn that my real opponent had spent the last three years rebuilding his London branch and had known all along that I was aware of his presence. The fact that he had done nothing to me to ensure I would not dismantle his newest incarnation in London or prevent me from returning at all had only strengthened my theories as to who he was.

Moriarty had been right that it was someone who was close to me.

Such knowledge made me sick to my stomach at the betrayal.

[1] Shaky Palsy is also known as Parkinson's Disease, which I firmly believe that Moriarty was suffering from at the time of FINAL. This theory is based on Holmes description which fits the symptoms of Parkinson's Disease to the letter.

Figured out yet who it is? Move on to the next chapter to see if you were right!