The Great Game (48 page)

             
Albermar dropped into the chair.
"All the charges withdrawn?"

             
Moriarty nodded. "The police of all nations share a reluctance to admit that they are mistaken, but I think that in this instance we can convince them. The case against him is flimsy. It was contrived by people who wanted to see him arrested and charged, but either it did not matter to them whether or not he was actually convicted, or the unexpected murder of the girl frightened them away.
Perhaps both.
Nonetheless the mill of justice continues to grind, and he will end up inexorably beneath the wheels unless we make an effort to remove him."

             
"The unexpected murder of the girl, you say? You mean it was an accident?"

             
"I believe that it was deliberate but unplanned." Moriarty rose. "Later today I'm going over to the apartment your son maintained under the name of Paul Donzhof to inspect it for indications as to what actually took place. My, ah, acquaintance, Sherlock Holmes is joining me, as is Dr. Gross, the head of the Viennese Criminal Investigation Bureau. Holmes feels that the case of Paul Donzhof might well be related to some work he is doing for the Austrian government. Besides, at the moment he is in the uncomfortable position of owing me a favor; a position he intends to rectify as soon as possible. Dr. Gross is joining us because he has heard of the great Sherlock Holmes, and is eager to observe his techniques of criminal investigation. And it seems that the officials have some reservations of their own as to the young man's guilt, so it was easy to convince Dr. Gross to conduct this experiment. Holmes is actually quite good when he's not working from a preconceived fallacy."

             
"Do you think this will help?"

             
"It may well. The apartment has, I understand, been kept secure since the murder. In the meantime, Your Grace, let me introduce you to some other people who were victims of the same plot that enmeshed your son."

             
Moriarty went to the connecting door between his office and the sitting room and pulled it open. "Mr.
And
Mrs. Benjamin Barnett and Miss Jenny Vernet."

             
The duke crossed to the door and looked curiously through. The three of them had been sitting around a table drinking coffee. They rose when the door opened.

             
"The duke of Albermar," Moriarty introduced. "It is his son that we are endeavoring to release from prison."

             
Barnett bowed. "
Your
Grace," he said. The two women curtsied.

             
"Two nights ago Mr. and Mrs. Barnett were prisoners of a man whom we believe to be one of the leaders of the group involved," Moriarty told the duke. "Miss Vernet was under threat of immediate execution from the same group."

             
"Execution!" the duke looked startled. "What was her crime?"

             
"I was discovered hiding in a cupboard," Jenny told him. "They took offense."

             
Chennery, who had been standing meekly alongside the duke, stepped forward. "Excuse me," he said, his face turning slightly red, "but—Madame Verlaine—is she about?"

             
"Ah, yes," Moriarty said, "Madame Verlaine. At this moment, your Grace, she is visiting your son, the prison officials having the mistaken impression that she is his sister. She should be back shortly."

             
"Visiting Charles? I should like to speak with her, but I can't stay." He turned to Chennery. "Will you wait for the young lady and bring her to me when she arrives? You know my schedule."

             
Chennery nodded. "Yes," he said. "Yes,
Your
Grace. Yes, of course,
Your
Grace. I'll be delighted to do that."

             
The duke looked at him keenly for a moment and then turned back to Moriarty. "I have to leave," he said. "Please get word to me through the embassy as soon as you have anything to tell me.
Sooner.
As soon as you anticipate having anything to tell me.
Please."

             
"Of course," Moriarty agreed.

             
The duke turned to the others. "Your stories must be fascinating. I must hear them. When I get back from the conference I will be staying at the embassy, probably incognito. You must all come have dinner with me. And my son, whom I trust will be back with me by then." He turned to Moriarty. "You see, I
trust.
I have never felt so helpless at controlling the course of events. I hope my trust is well placed. Well,
auf wiedersehen,
as they say.
Until we meet again."

             
With that, the duke of Albermar clapped his on hat his head and left the room as briskly as he had entered it."

-

             
An hour later, his Inverness cloak buttoned and tucked firmly about him against the chill drizzle, Moriarty stood across the street from the building where Paul Donzhof had lived before the Viennese police provided him with the snug, secure housing he now enjoyed. A gray, square,
solidly middle-class stone building, it looked incapable of harboring the sort of violence that had occurred there a month before.

             
An official carriage pulled up to the door as he watched, and
Sherlock Holmes emerged, accompanied by a round-faced man with mutton-chop whiskers and a wide mustache, who was carrying an oversized leather briefcase secured with two straps. Moriarty crossed the street to join them.

             
"Professor, ah, that is Dr. Sandarel," Holmes greeted him. "Allow me to present Dr. Hanns Gross, the director of criminal prosecutions for the City of Vienna."

             
"Dr. Gross," Moriarty said.

             
"Dr. Sandarel." Gross moved his briefcase to his left hand and shook Moriarty's hand.

             
"A pleasure to meet you, Doctor," Moriarty said. "I've read your book, of course. The
Handbuch f
ü
r Utitersuchungsrichter
als
System der Kriminalistik.
The
Examining Magistrate's Handbook—A System of Criminalistics.
It's the first intelligent treatment of criminal investigation I've seen."

             
"Thank you," Gross said. "Mr. Holmes has told me of your intense interest in criminals and their activities."

             
"I'm sure he has," Moriarty said, glancing at Holmes. "I'm quite certain he has."

             
"I'm preparing a new edition of the handbook," Gross said. "I've been reading some of the cases of Mr. Holmes, as recorded by his amanuensis, Dr. Watson, and I'm incorporating the techniques learned from those cases in the new edition. Anyone seriously interested in criminalistics would do well to study the cases of Sherlock Holmes."

             
"I am pleased that you think so," Holmes said. "It is no less than the truth."

             
"Watson always dramatizes my cases for their sensational aspects," Holmes commented sadly, "while I would much prefer that the analytical processes involved were treated more fully."

             
"A clear enough view of the process of ratiocination you employ is suggested in Dr. Watson's stories to make them of great value to the student of crime-solving," Gross told him, shaking his right forefinger in the air for emphasis.

             
Holmes nodded, accepting the implied compliment as his due. He tapped the side of his nose with his forefinger. "Studying the career of Dr. Sandarel here would also greatly reward the serious student of crime," he said, nodding gravely at Moriarty.

             
Moriarty gazed at Holmes with an expression that was difficult to read. "You are too kind," he said.

             
"Really?"
Gross beamed.
"Always delighted to meet a colleague.
What is your specialty, Dr. Sandarel?"

             
"The mind of the detective as well as that of the criminal," Moriarty told him.
"And how persistence can transform itself into obsession, which then clouds the mind."

             
"Yes, yes," Dr. Gross agreed. "I, myself have described that in my writing. It is necessary to have a clear mind and not form a definite opinion of a case too soon. A preconceived opinion is clung to with tenacity until the investigator is forced to abandon it, by which time the best clues may well be lost—often beyond the possibility of recovery."

             
"Mr. Holmes himself has said something like that," Moriarty observed, "and I'm sure he tries to live up to it. Don't you, Mr. Holmes?"

             
A slight smile twitched about Holmes's lips, and then was lost. "Let us go upstairs," he said. "I am anxious to examine this crime scene."

             
"I, also," Dr. Gross said. "It is fortunate that the area has been kept pristine, as it was on the day of the murder; although I'm afraid the most significant clues may have degraded or even disappeared by now just through the passage of time. It has been almost a month since the crime."

             
"I fancy I might be able to discern something that the Viennese police overlooked," Holmes said, "despite the wait."

             
"The examining magistrate would like to bring this case to court," Dr. Gross explained. "But we're not satisfied with the present state of the evidence. So anything you can find pointing to the young man's guilt or, of course, his innocence, would be of value."

             
They entered the building and paused at the foot of the wide staircase.
"Top floor?"
Holmes asked.

             
"Of course," Dr. Gross said. "When have you known an examination that wasn't up the very highest flight of stairs? It's what keeps the police force in such good physical shape."

             
"Why don't you go over the known facts for us as we go upstairs?" Holmes asked.

             
"Very well," Dr. Gross agreed. "But I may have to rest at one or more of the landings to catch my breath. I'm not as young as I used to be."

             
"Few of us are," Moriarty observed.

             
"Very well."
Dr. Gross started upstairs with a determined look on his face. "The Rathaus Bureau of the Vienna Criminal Police was notified at eleven forty-five on the morning of Friday the twentieth of March that an attempt would be made by anarchists on the lives of the duke and
duchess of Mecklenburg Strelitz as their coach passed along the Ringstrasse that afternoon. Unfortunately, by the time the guard could be notified, the attempt had already been made."

             
"So," Moriarty said, "
the
police were notified before the attack."

             
"Yes, that is so.
"

             
"
By whom?"

             
"Nobody seems to know. The point has been investigated, but as to how the warning was received by the bureau, there is no information. It was stated in the warning that the anarchist in question would be wearing a green greatcoat and a wide brown cap and carrying a Shugard Seuss revolver."

             
"How specific!"
Holmes commented.