Eventually we managed to force Harrison into revealing the location of Vincent Von Galore. It turned out despite his wealth he was hiding out in a slum used by the lower classes. I guessed he felt that living in a mansion would attract too much attention. We walked to the slum together as it was not far from the prison which held Harrison.
"This must be it Watson." Holmes announced his head buried in a piece of paper which contained directions to Vincent's hideout written by Harrison. The slum itself looked ugly and dirty just like most houses did in this area of London. Sherlock placed a key Harrison gave us into the lock. The door unlocked and we went inside. It was much nicer on the inside than on the outside. It looked just like a luxurious manner. I guessed that Von Galore senior must have had it renovated before his death.
It was not a huge building so we went to one of the rooms on the downstairs. Vincent Von Galore was sitting on a chair drinking tea. He looked up and dropped the cup onto the floor. I guess he wasn't expecting us to be here.
"YOU!" He shouted. "How did you get in?"
"Harrison O'brackley is under arrest. The police will be here any minute to arrest you."
"You can't do this" Vincent said "I haven't even begun my operation to destroy the stupid country town."
"You were treated unkindly there weren't you?" I asked in a more sympathetic voice.
"Yes…" Vincent said. "You don't know what it's like to be born into a family of criminals. My father was well in the inner circle of the original Golden Dagger, supplying them with the money necessary to carry out their horrific deeds. Assassination being their primary objective."
"And you hated them for that?" I asked.
"Of course I hated them for it" Vincent shouted completely losing the calmness he displayed to us in our earlier encounters. "My father supplied them with vicious alcohol which ruined the lives of many individuals including 2 innocent policemen who were trying to stop him."
"And you killed him?" Holmes asked.
"Yes" Vincent said in a very delightful tone. "I used his own alcohol to get him severely drunk; then I sent to him to my friend's father. I was glad he told me that he was a quack. Of course he died; but then I remembered that my friend had a similar problem to me. He had parents who were criminals."
"They too were members of the Golden Dagger's inner circle" I added.
"Really" Vincent said with great surprise. "I hoped that good old Ronan would appreciate it if I sent my underlings over to kill his parents and give him the freedom that I had once my father died."
"Did you know what happened to him?" Sherlock asked.
"Actually no, please tell me."
"Your ambitions had a reverse affect. Ronan wasn't grateful for it at all; in fact he was terrified of you."
"What…" Vincent said slowly and quietly.
"It was Ronan who sent us after you, he was thought he killed his parents in revenge, he thought you were out to get him."
Vincent looked to the ground. "He saw my gift as a punishment?"
"Yes" I replied.
Tears came rushing own Vincent's eyes. "All I ever wanted to do was to help fix the world that my father destroyed. That's why I came up with reviving the Golden Dagger. I hoped to fix the mistakes of the world by creating fear. I thought if people believed that the public thought that they would be killed if they committed crimes therefore eliminating crime in London and possibly all of England as well. I would never believe that the one person who befriended me had started to hate me." Vincent wiped his eyes. "Very well Holmes, I'll call the death threat off; I don't want to cause anymore misery that I've already created."
"I'm afraid that is not possible" Sherlock announced.
"I beg your pardon" Vincent said puzzlingly.
"Vincent; all the time you were just a cab driver, driving your passenger to his destination."
"Who then Holmes, who was using me?" That was the last words I ever heard Vincent Von Galore junior speak. He was immediately grabbed from behind by someone just entering the room from another entrance. The mystery man dragged him into the room he entered by. It occurred to me then that I didn't lock the door once I entered the building. Someone must have entered the building and captured Vincent from behind; maybe he shadowed us on our way here.
We ran into the room the mysterious attacker dragged Vincent into. Vincent was lying on the floor with a bleeding head. His attacker was standing next to him with a silver revolver in his hand.
"Surprised to see me Sherlock Holmes."