I. Collapse

A great country rests on great institutions. Great Britain especially depends upon its institutions for its very identity. If our institutions fall, then Britain falls. The computer key code was a threat to our institutions, and we spent a great deal of effort to find it. I must admit, however, that I also spent a great deal of time keeping watch on my little brother.

I opened the report on Sherlock that my team had assembled. Sherlock had become a minor celebrity. I read the newspaper articles about him with a mixture of pride and trepidation. On the one hand, it was gratifying that my brother was being appreciated for his genius. On the other hand, this was looking more and more like theatre to me. To create a great fall one must first be raised up. I remembered the old children's tale.

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall.

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.

All the king's horses and all the king's men.

Couldn't put Humpty together again.

But who was Humpty Dumpty? Was it Sherlock or me?

I opened the second file. It was a list of secret operatives known to be in Britain. The list kept getting longer and longer. The key code was a hot item. No one knew where it was, but everyone suspected that it was in Britain. German contacts had reported a similar rush of agents everywhere that Dr. Berliner had been. In China, all of Berliner's papers and possessions had been seized by the government and were out of reach.

I frowned. Something that I was doing more and more of these days. Then I looked at the papers and smiled. John was there, faithful John. The distance between them had shrunk to three inches. It was a great comfort to me to know that he was staying so close to Sherlock. Perhaps he could protect him.

Then I looked back at the list of killers, and frowned once more. I wanted to see John. To have dinner again, but it was better if he stayed with Sherlock. They must know that Moriarty was after them. Moriarty was not the type to keep such a thing secret.

Then the day that I was dreading arrived. On one day, in the same hour, Moriarty attacked The Bank of England, The Tower of London, and Pentonville Prison. He had the key code. None of our great institutions were safe. Moriarty was in prison. We could not touch him, but neither could anyone else. I sent a message to the warden to make sure that he was placed in isolation in an old fashioned cell with a keyed lock.

I watched the film of Moriarty in the tower and felt cold. "Get Sherlock" he had written. Perhaps it would be better if Moriarty were never to leave the prison. It used to be the norm in the tower that those who entered did not leave alive. A slow smile spread across my face as I thought of it, but I knew that it couldn't be that simple. Moriarty would have thought of such an easy solution. He would have made lists of contingencies. Things that would happen if he died.

Sherlock's immediate death was the most likely result. My death was probably also on the list, but only after Sherlock's. Of this I was certain.

I followed the trial very closely. I read of Sherlock's banning from the courtroom and rolled my eyes. It was indeed a full-time occupation to apologize for all of his mistakes. Moriarty's release did not surprise me, but it was disappointing.

There is a form that we have. It is not spoken of, and I remind you that you must never repeat what I say. It is called a 'vanishing request'. A form that when signed by three names from a very short list of officials will result in the permanent removal of a certain troublesome person. I must tell you that I kept such a form in my desk at this time and often pulled it out to look at it.

Surveillance reports said that a large number of the foreign killers that we were tracking had now located themselves near my brother's home. I could wait no longer, I had to tell Sherlock. But I knew that Sherlock would find out about my mistake. How I had let Moriarty trick me. I was too proud to let my brother see my weakness. In retrospect, I realize that had I told him... perhaps he could have discovered what was happening sooner. Stopped it somehow. But I was a fool.

Instead, I called John to a meeting at the Diogenes club. I had to tell him about Sherlock's peril. Maybe somehow he could protect him where I could not. You see I trusted John Watson. I had become dependent on him. I believed that if he were beside Sherlock, then he could not be killed.

I showed John the files of the killers living near Sherlock.

"It's not hard to guess the common denominator is it?" I said.

"You think this is Moriarty?" John replied.

"He promised Sherlock he'd come back."

"If this was Moriarty we'd be dead already."

"If not Moriarty, then who?"

John asked me why I did not tell Sherlock directly. How could I say that I was afraid of what he would think of me? That I was afraid of what John would think of me, if they knew how easily I had been deceived?

I had lectured Sherlock during the Irene Adler case. I told him how a person could be lured into solving a puzzle for someone else. Now Moriarty had done it to me. In order to discover the key code, I had let slip information about Sherlock that Moriarty was sure to use to destroy him. I couldn't face my brother, and I couldn't tell John. I valued his good opinion too much.

Instead I said. "Too much history between us, John. Old scores, resentments."

John scoffed at my fears, "Nicked all his smurfs? Broke his action man?"

He put down the files and laughed. "Finished," he said as he rose to leave.

John did not understand the seriousness of the situation. I had to make him understand. I said, "We both know what's coming, John. Moriarty is obsessed. He's sworn to destroy his only rival."

"So you want me to watch out for your brother, because he won't accept your help?"

"If it's not too much trouble," I replied.

John considered it for a moment, then he left discounting my warning. I felt powerless. I was certain that Moriarty's move had been made, and I had done everything that I could, but it was not enough.