The Autobiography of Mycroft Holmes

Chapter 27: Professor of Murder

*The picture above should give you an idea of what the space that this standoff between the New Scotland Yarders and the Murderers looks like. Not mine, as always, but beautiful photography...*

"I don't get it!" Lestrade repeated, infuriated. "Why this? Why use our own men against us?"

"You don't know why exactly Villarreal killed himself, do you?"

"Not at all," Lestrade said.

"But I know," I said, beginning to piece it together. "You blackmailed him. He told me you 'haunted' him. He told me you were 'everywhere' before he died. You must have done the same to these other men once you found out that they'd be here with us.

The way you convinced these other men to kill us was a bit different, though. You used a different trigger. You didn't say you'd kill them; you said you'd kill their families. How did you find out that they'd be here, though? Did you bug the computers of New Scotland Yard again, like you did to get my information?"

"Precisely. This is what I was taught to do, long ago. I'm a professor. This is what I now teach my students to do."

"Students," I snorted. "You teach them the insipid art of murder, I presume?"

"No. They are not murderers, my students. They are actually Oxford students, as a matter of fact. And if I'm thinking of the right person, which I know I am, you went to Oxford. Mycroft Holmes, have you not seen me on campus, or at least heard of me? I am Professor James Moriarty; I teach Psychology and Global History, and sometimes Computer Science and Engineering classes."

"And in your free time, your hobbies are murder and murder by suicide."

"As are hers," Moriarty said. "I am pleased to introduce to you Sabrina Moran, my former part-time Teacher Assistant and now full-time Assistant Assassin. Only difference between us is that she's also an expert sniper, which can certainly come in handy for me sometimes."

The blood drained from my head. Sabrina walked in and looked at me, smiling the same way she had on the night of the Social. It was an absolutely vile sight.

"But I don't teach my students murder. I'm actually not even a professor anymore. But I used to teach my students computer science skills. Hacking being just one of the many skills I taught my students, as well as Sabrina."

"So that's how she got to working for you! I know it had to be something very unorthodox. Only the weird for the weird. That I know to be true."

"Ms. Moran is a very valuable asset to my syndicate now. But you haven't even begun to understand the true depth of what I am doing right now in my syndicate of murder and mayhem."

"Professor Moriarty, you have caused both me and my friend Lestrade a lot of pain and grief over these murders. And I'm sure you're causing Ms. Moran a great deal of mental pain, as well. Can I ask you why you have decided to do this?"

"A few reasons. First of all, as a young professor, I get bored easily. The only other people of my intellectual skill that I can talk to are at least seventy years old. My students don't know anything at all. They don't care; you must have said yourself at some point or another, Mycroft, that you know this generation is going to screw up the world. But you; oh no, not you."

"Why am I any different from anyone else?"

"Because you are brilliant, Ms. Holmes. Yes, I knew it from the moment I saw you and heard you speak at the Diogenes. You are a member of a society that even few of the privileged know of; a society that contains many influential people in the British Government, in fact. You have power and control over others and over yourself that is nearly unmatched, and you have even managed to get yourself a relatively normal boyfriend as well. You can even solve crimes! What more can you do, Ms. Holmes?

"I wanted to find that out; see how you'd react to certain stimuli, you know as an experiment, and test you. You were so fascinating; how you responded with cold intellectualism to even the most brutal murders. You responded with as much tact as you could to even the denial of your sanity by your friends. You have even officially figured out all my murders by now! I congratulate you; really I do."

"So what happens now? I get the prize of not having all my remaining friends and family killed? I would very much appreciate that, if not a monetary reimbursement for my pain and suffering. You know I need the money."

"But I would not save your family and friends, don't you see? I just saved them for last! You see, you have proven that you are far smarter than even I. Your sister cannot match you if she tried. Your friend Tom? He is an idiot. He understands nothing. Neither, it seems, do I compared to you. And I don't like that; not at all, really. In fact, you can do this all without even taking off your heels or getting your suit dirty most of the time! So I've decided that you must die as well."

"I - what?" I asked in disbelief. "Wouldn't my life make me all the more valuable to you? Why would I have to die?"

"Because I know as well as you do that you'd never concede to a murderer's threats. Unlike all these other people you see around you. Even Lestrade. She's powerless to my threats. Look at her! She's just like the rest!"

And I did. And there was Lestrade, holding a gun that was pointed at my head. Sabrina was on my other side, not as close, but more focused. She no longer saw me as human, but as another target she had to shoot.

"You, Mycroft Holmes, are much more dangerous than you have ever realized you could be," the murderer said as I looked back over at him. And that is all because you are such a good person! Isn't it a pity that you should have to suffer just for doing what you've been told to do all these years? You did the right thing, lived a clean life, and because of that, you will die."

I, as you the reader have probably already deduced, was evaluating escape plans. I knew that I could escape through the door, but only if I could steal the gun of either Lestrade or one of the officers in front of me. Then, I'd use it to kill both Moriarty and Moran. And I knew a way to do it, as well. There was no other option. I escape through that door, or I die.

In that moment, I didn't even care if I brought Lestrade out with me. She wanted to kill me. She betrayed me. And so now, she was as much of use to me as Moriarty or Moran. And I didn't care if she died or not.

"Lestrade. Don't try to tell me you were trying to gain my trust for him. Not for so many years. Did he threaten you? Did he threaten your family? You're not like me. That sort of thing matters to you. But you know he'll kill your family anyway, don't you? Or has sense really vacated your mind so? He's probably killing Tom right now, if you really think about it. In fact, he even said you were weak. He said you were weak! How does that really make you feel, Lestrade? You're back here with me, after a year and a half of nothing, and you'll concede to him? Is this absolu-?"

Before I could finish, Lestrade had shot Professor Moriarty in the chest, and another one of the guards as well.

*Thanks for reading! Now you know who the murderer is and I'm SOOO happy about it!!! :D See you in the next chapter.