The Great Game (18 page)

             
"So you do this at least partly to keep in touch with what's going on among the common people?" Cecily asked.

             
"Yes," Prince Ariste said, and then he shook his head. "But there is something going on throughout Europe that the common people know no more about than the aristocracy. There is a great conspiracy afoot to kill off the important people. Not merely the royals or the nobles, but ministers, police officials, politicians of any and all political stripes, land owners, factory owners, newspaper publishers and editors. It seems as if anyone who has his head sticking up above the crowd is liable to have it lopped off at the neck by unseen hands."

             
Barnett nodded. "I have noticed the tendency, Your—Ariste. I think it's a wave of the sort of general madness that sometimes sweeps across populations. The Children's Crusade, witchcraft, tulip mania; such insanities come along and then disappear. Now it's assassinations. Small, unconnected groups, each feeding off the actions of the others as reported in the press. Some think of themselves as socialist or anarchist, some reactionary, some are barely aware of the motive that impels them into violence."

             
"I would like to think that," Ariste agreed.
"A cluster of unconnected groups, all acting out of a common madness but not a common cause.
It would make it, indeed, merely a horrible passing fad. But I'm afraid that there is some intelligence at work here.
That all these murders are somehow connected.
This is the third— no, the fourth—time they have tried to kill me, you know."

             
"No, I didn't," Barnett said.

             
"How silly of me.
Of course you didn't. How could you have? Well, it is. This is why I have developed such an interest in the subject. But, until today, I thought our incognito was safe. For four years Diane and I have traveled forth as the Bulefortes; to Florence, to Venice, to Rome; and each time ending up here at the Villa Endorra for a week or two. It was our treasured vacation. And now we will be unable to do it anymore. It is not safe for any of the other guests of the hotel to have us here. Diane and I will have to go to one of those well-guarded spas of the aristocracy along the Riviera."

             
"You really believe that all these assassinations are part of one conspiracy?" Barnett asked.

             
"When someone is trying to kill you, Mr. Barnett," the prince said, "you put a lot of thought into whom and why. The whoms, in my case, have been several different people, entirely unrelated, part of no common conspiracy that Section Seven of the Imperial Commissariat, which is charged with the safety of we minor princelings, could uncover. Now I find it strange that four different people who do not know either me or each other should each independently decide to attempt to kill me. I am, after all, not an important monarch. Indeed, I am largely a figurehead, since most of the administrative authority of Rumelia has long since been relegated to the Imperial Ministers of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. I am a vassal of the emperor more surely than any of my subjects, who, after all, are all free to move if they wish."

             
"You picture a vast conspiracy," Barnett said. "What would anyone have to gain from such a scheme?"

             
"That," Prince Ariste admitted, "is the question."

The condition upon which God hath given liberty to man is eternal vigilance; which condition if he break, servitude is at once the consequence of his crime and the punishment of his guilt.

—John Philpot Curran

             
His Grace Peter George Albon Summerdane, the seventh duke of Albermar, hung his frock coat on the bentwood coatrack by the far wall and lowered himself into one of the sturdy Georgian chairs surrounding the small dining table. He waved Professor Moriarty into the opposite seat. "Please accept my apologies for having sent for you in this unorthodox manner," he said. "I did not think it would be advisable for me to be seen consulting you."

             
They were in a small, well-appointed dining room off the kitchen in the Diogenes Club, a ground-floor room that could be reached by coming down a flight of stairs from the butler's pantry, or by passing into a narrow alley off Compton's Court and entering an exterior side door which led to a corridor that bypassed the kitchen. His Grace had
come
the former route and Moriarty the latter. One of the duke's men stood outside the dining room door to assure that they would not be disturbed.

             
"I take no offense," Professor Moriarty said, pulling off his gloves and draping his black Chesterfield overcoat over a chair. He settled into the chair opposite the duke and stared at him over the golden owl head that surmounted his ebony walking stick. "It is evident that it is a matter demanding the utmost tact and secrecy upon which you wish to consult me, a matter possibly involving something extra-legal, or at least beyond the scope of Her Majesty's government. My assumption is that you wish to engage me to conduct a mission for you in some foreign land, possibly Austria. I should warn you that I will probably turn down your offer, although I am certainly prepared to listen."

             
Albermar raised an eyebrow, for him an expression of great surprise. "How in God's name did you know all of that?" he asked. "I told no one."

             
"I surmised it," Moriarty said. "The process of ratiocination involved was fairly simple."

             
Albermar pursed his lips for a moment and shook his head slightly. "Explicate it for me."

             
"A man identifying himself as your private secretary called at my house to arrange this meeting," Moriarty said. "Although you are secretary of state for Foreign Affairs in Her Majesty's present government, you sent your private secretary rather than a factotum from the Foreign Office. Further, although you certainly have access to government conveyance, and certainly have carriages available from your own household, your secretary arrived in a hansom cab. Obviously the sight of an official brougham or a carriage with Your Grace's ducal arms on the door would have defeated your intentions. What am I to conclude but that you wish our discussion to be, let us say,
confidential.
Then, to strengthen this conclusion, your secretary informs me that we are to meet in the Diogenes Club, one of the most private clubs in London
and a favorite of senior level government employees. I believe that Mycroft Holmes is a member here."

             
The duke smiled. "Yes," he said.
"An interesting and talented man.
A man who sometimes seems to think that he
is
Her Majesty's government.
And, on occasion, is almost correct in that assumption. His
brother,
also has on occasion been of use to us."

             
"So I have heard," Moriarty said dryly. He paused for a second and then continued, "And not only do you arrange our meeting in this most exclusive club, but in a private dining room within that club obviously only used for the most clandestine of appointments." He gestured toward the door. "And the man you have outside the door is in your service, not that of Her Majesty's government, judging by his attire."

             
"Yes, that is so."

             
"And the means of ingress you suggested for me was certainly designed to reduce the possibility that my presence would become known. So, as you would not chance being seen entering my house or even chance my being seen entering your club, I conclude that this is a personal matter that does not concern the government, or rather, one that you would have the government kept out of. And since my reputation is one of facilitating crime—"

             
"I have heard you referred to as 'the Napoleon of crime,' " the duke interrupted.

             
"Yes," Moriarty replied dryly. "I, myself have heard that.
From the Javert of busybodies."

             
"Mr. Sherlock Holmes is incorrect, then, in his supposition?"

             
"My morality is my own business," Moriarty said. "Suffice it to say that I have never been convicted of any crime, and any public statement accusing me of any sort of criminal activity would be actionable."

             
"These days private morality is increasingly of public concern," Albermar commented.

             
"Only for public personages," Moriarty said. "I am not, and have no intention of becoming, a public personage."

             
"Sometimes it
happens
whether we will or no," Albermar said. "But I am neglecting my manners. The coffee urn on the sideboard is full. May I offer you a cup?"

             
"Thank you," Moriarty said.

             
The duke of Albermar poured two cups of coffee, diluted them with cream and sugar, and passed one over to Moriarty. "Another sign of my need for complete secrecy," he observed wryly. "It has been some time since I poured my own coffee." He settled back in his chair and cupped the coffee in his hands. "And how did you conclude that my mission for you concerns a foreign land, possibly Austria?"

             
"Surely on this island," Moriarty said, "as a peer of the realm and high official in Her Majesty's government, you possess the resources, or can command the allegiance of such forces, as you might require for any conceivable contingency."

             
The duke nodded. "True," he said.
"But might not I be calling upon you as, ahem, one of those resources?
You have performed signal services for Her Majesty in the past, including once saving her life, I believe."

             
Moriarty nodded acknowledgment.
"Because, with other resources available, you would not be calling on me.
Despite the fact that none dare call me a criminal to my face, the epithet 'Napoleon of crime' is not entirely unknown in the reaches of government. If any relationship between us became known it would reflect unfavorably on you and might hurt your political career. I'm not saying you wouldn't call on me if the
need were
great enough, but surely you would try other avenues first."

             
"How do you know I haven't?"

             
Moriarty shrugged. "I fancy I would have heard. Therefore my assumption that, as I am reputed to have an extensive network of— ah—associates throughout the continent, you wish me to deal with some foreign matter that, for some reason, you cannot put to the staff of your own department to handle. Another reason for my assumption that, whatever the problem is, it is personal and not governmental."

             
The duke was silent for some time. And then he asked, "
and
Austria?"

             
"I may have overreached myself there," Moriarty admitted. "It could be a mere coincidence that a week ago a man was murdered in my doorway, and that his last words were that my agents in Vienna were in great danger."

             
The duke of Albermar stood up suddenly, pushing himself to his feet with his palms on the arms of his chair. "Great danger, you say?
Great danger?
Come now, that's very curious. And did you ascertain whether this was true?"

             
"I was unable to," Moriarty said. "You see, I have no agents in Vienna, or anywhere else in Europe for that matter. I have a few employees here in England and an artificer in Aberdeen that could be described as my 'agent' if one were to speak loosely, but that is all. It has been my experience that a man who relies on the intelligent cooperation of others in the furtherance of his goals is doomed to failure two times out of three. For that reason I have few permanent alliances, but a large number of people in various professions and walks of life with whom I share useful information. I have no
'gang.' Contrary to Mr. Holmes's opinion, 1
do
not sit at the center of a vast web of informants, and control every criminal activity from here to Sebastopol."