The Final Duel

I had previously published the story of Reichenbach Falls, and how Professor Moriarty was apparently killed there. However, he, along with Sherlock Holmes, was not truly killed. Holmes had discovered this while investigating a particularly strange bank robbery, and discovered that Moriarty instigated it.

"Damn it!" Cried Holmes, having encountered extreme difficulties investigating Moriarty's disappearance. It was approximately six months from Moriarty's escape from prison and disappearance.

"What is it, Holmes?"

"I have been completely unable to get any evidence relating to Moriarty! Nothing! It is as if he has he has completely disappeared!"

"Have you tried the Irregulars?"

"Time and time again, I have! Not even they can help with my investigation!"

"Well, it is Moriarty. He has many connections, and it would be fairly simple for him to simply disappear."

"But I have found and exposed him before! Why can I not do it now?"

"He has learned, Holmes. He knows your methods, and he has adapted his to fit."

"If this is the case, I think it is high time I adapt mine."

Holmes pulled out his pipe, and lit a match.

"If we are to catch Moriarty, we must first think like Moriarty. Watson, if you were the most dangerous criminal in England, and you had just escaped from prison with about fifteen thousand pounds in your possession, what would you do next?"

I shrugged, and said, "I suppose I would attempt to escape the country."

Though I had expected Holmes to have deduced this already, I was surprised when he leaped from his chair, and yelled, "Of course!" He threw the lit match to the ground, thankfully not setting the carpet on fire.

"Holmes, be careful!" I instinctively stamped on the match, but it was already out.

"Sorry, Watson, but I have just realized what Moriarty is planning!"

"What?" Holmes opened the door and ran out of the room. "I will explain on the way!"

I was barely keeping up with Holmes as he ran out the door.

"Cab!" He shouted, more excited than I had ever seen him. A brougham pulled up, and Holmes and I climbed in.

"What are you thinking, Holmes?"

"A steam ship, called the Friesland, is departing today for Switzerland. I have great reason to believe that this is the way Moriarty will depart from London and begin a new gang, a new crime syndicate."

"Incredible!"

"Indeed, but ingenious. Here is the ship now! Come, Watson, we still have a chance."

We exited the cab, but were immediately accosted by two thugs.

"Hey, gov'nah, how about you hand over some of the pounds you've got in your pocket?"

"I don't think I should do that." Said Holmes.

"And why not?"

"Because your boss is right behind you."

"Yes, he is. Boys, at ease." The large men stepped aside, revealing a tall, slender man with sunken in eyes. It was Professor Moriarty.

"Hello again, Holmes. If you would be good enough, please, come with me."

It was obvious we had no choice but to follow him. Moriarty began walking to the ship, talking about his plans.

"I assume, Holmes, you have already deduced what I am planning. If not, here is what I wish to accomplish in the future. I am going to escape to Switzerland, obviously, with my own associate, Colonel Sebastian Moran. Once there, I will take you both to Reichenbach falls, and finish the job I couldn't all those years ago."

"We will escape," said I.

"I doubt it." Boasted Moriarty. "You see, I have made sure that every member of the Friesland's crew works for me."

We were all on the boarding ramp now, approaching ever closer to imminent doom.

"However, Holmes, I must say; It was quite fun while it lasted. Unfortunately for you, it will last no more."

Moriarty opened the door to a pristine room, and we all walked inside.

"This is the finest room on the ship. Please, sit down."

It was then, with a great disturbance, we realized it was an exact copy of our flat at 221B Baker Street.

"Do you like it? I tried to get every detail right."

"But…why?"

"Well, in your last hours, I thought I would try to be nice and let you stay in your room." He chuckled. "Really, though, Holmes, I do quite like the design of your apartment, so I requested…a redesign, so to speak. Anyway, by my estimate, we should be reaching the port in approximately two days."

Moriarty pulled a gold watch from his pocket. "And by a separate estimate, we should be departing…about now."

There was a great lurch, and we knew there was no turning back.

"Anyway, I should be leaving, as I need to start planning my first crime in Switzerland."

Moriarty and his henchmen left the room, leaving us to our own devices.

"What do we do, Holmes?"

"I'm thinking, Watson!" Holmes slammed his fist down on the table in rage.

"If this is truly an exact replicate of our rooms, he could have unintentionally left us a manner of escape."

"Unintentionally? Watson, this is Moriarty. He has probably sabotaged anything that even has a chance of allowing our escape."

"Then perhaps we should just run and swim back to the shore."

"Yes, let's get shot. No, Watson, there must be a better way."

Holmes picked up a replica of his pipe from the table and put it in his mouth.

"Think, Watson, there has to be a way for us to escape." Holmes lit a match, set his pipe, and immediately spit it out.

"Bah! Moriarty said he made this as detailed as possible, but I would never allow such detestable ash as this anywhere near my pipe!" Holmes looked at the pipe for a moment, and then got an epiphany.

"Watson, please go down to the bar and get me a bottle of brandy."

"But Holmes, I thought you didn't…oh, I see." I left the room, and took the nearest flight of stairs down to the lower decks of the ship. I was accosted with the smell of cheap alcohol, but I pushed forward, desperate to escape the ship.

"Hello, Watson." Somebody behind me said. I turned around, and saw that it was Moriarty.

"I didn't know you drank cheap gin."

"Er, I don't. It's for Holmes."

"I wasn't aware he drank cheap gin either."

"Actually, I was getting some brandy."

"Oh, really?" Moriarty chuckled a bit, and I did as well. However, he lunged at me with rage, but I stepped aside, avoiding his attack and throwing him to the lower floor, groaning in pain. I grabbed a passing gentleman's bottle of brandy, to his protest, and ran back to our room.

"Holmes, I have got it!" I saw that he had created a pile of furniture and paintings in the center of the room, and was holding his matchbox.

"Good! Pour it on the pile, and we shall break free of Moriarty and his henchmen."

"We must hurry, Holmes! I was attacked by Moriarty, and he will doubtless try again!" I smashed the neck of the bottle against the pile of debris, pouring cheap liqueur all over it.

It was then that Moriarty kicked open the door, yelling, "I've got you now!"

However, he did not have us at all. Holmes lit the match, and threw it towards the pile. I dived towards him before it caught, and we escaped through another door before Moriarty knew what had happened.

"Argh!" He cried, diverting his eyes from the blinding conflagration.

"We did it, Holmes!" I said triumphantly, following Holmes through a window on the wall of his bedroom, or rather mine, as it was the exact copy of the one at Baker Street that I possessed.

"Do not be too sure, Watson. We still have to get off the ship." And, truth to be told, we were accosted by one of Moriarty's thugs.

"Where do you think you're going?" He threw a punch, but it was shoddy, and Holmes easily dodged it. Then, a great explosion rocked the ship, and it seemed that it came from the fire Holmes had set.

"What was that, Holmes?" I said, looking up. I immediately noticed that the large thug was down on the ground, completely unconscious.

"It would appear we hit a gas line. Come, Watson, there is a lifeboat this way." I followed Holmes, running as fast as I could. In a cruel twist of fate, Moriarty was waiting right outside the lifeboat for us, pointing a very large revolver in our direction."

"Sorry, Holmes, but it looks like you and your friend have lost again. I would say that about now everybody is starting to realize what has happened, and I…" Moriarty's speech was interrupted by another, larger explosion, giving Holmes the necessary distraction to attack Moriarty. He wrenched the pistol out of the villain's hands, throwing it out to sea, and punched him in the face, having very little physical effect, but distracting him further.

"Quickly, Holmes!" I said, jumping into the lifeboat. Holmes followed my lead, and I released the catch, sending us to the sea. It was a very good thing that we escaped when we did, for a last explosion came from the ship, finally destroying part of the hull. The ship began sinking, and we rowed out to shore.

Much later, a corpse was found floating in the Thames, that of one of Colonel Sebastian Moran. Only time will tell if Professor James Moriarty is still alive, or his crime has finally come to an end.

However, there is one last part to this story. I do not believe, however, that the world will ever be ready for it, and I am wary of publishing it. It is so incredible, so unbelievable, that even hinting at it here would ruin any hint of credence this story contained.

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Wow, that's a short chapter. But a new Holmes story is coming up, and it's going to, in my opinion, kick ass.