LARRABEE (slight shrug of shoulders): There’s another thing that puzzles me. There was an accident below in the kitchen — a lamp fell off the table and scattered burning oil about, the butler came running up, yelling fire. We ran down there, and a few buckets of water put it out.
(MORIARTY suddenly appears at his desk. Lights on his face.)
MORIARTY: I have a suggestion to make. (All turn in surprise and look at MORIARTY.) The first thing we must do is to get rid of your butler — not discharge him — get rid of him. (To BASSICK.) Craigin for that! To-day! As soon as it’s dark. Give him two others to help — Mr. Larrabee will send the man into the cellar for something — they’ll be ready for him there. Doulton’s van will get the body to the river. (MADGE shudders slightly.) It need not inconvenience you at all, Madam, we do these things quietly.
(BASSICK is writing orders.)
(To BASSICK.) What’s the Seraph doing?
BASSICK: He’s on the Reading job to-morrow night.
MORIARTY: Put him with Craigin to-day to help with that butler. But there’s something else we want. Have you seen those letters, the photographs, and whatever else there may be? Have you seen them? Do you know what they’re like?
MADGE: I have, sir. I’ve looked them through carefully several times
MORIARTY: Could you make me a counterfeit set of these things and tie them up so that they will look exactly like the package Sherlock Holmes held in his hand last night?
MADGE: I could manage the letters — but —
MORIARTY: If you manage the letters, I’ll send some one who can manage the rest — from your description. Bassick — that old German artist — eh —
BASSICK: Leuftner.
MORIARTY: Precisely! Send Leuftner to Mrs. Larrabee at eleven. (Looks at watch.) Quarter past ten — that gives you three quarters of an hour to reach home. I shall want that counterfeit packet an eleven to-night — twelve hours to make it.
MADGE: It will be ready, sir.
MORIARTY: Good! Bassick — notify the Lascar that I may require the Gas Chamber at Stepney to-night.
BASSICK: The Gas Chamber?
MORIARTY: Yes. The one backing over the river — and have Craigin there a quarter before twelve with two others. Mr. Larrabee — (turning slightly to him) — I shall want you to write a letter to Mr. Sherlock Holmes which I shall dictate — and tonight I may require a little assistance from you both. (Taking in PRINCE with his glance.) Meet me here at eleven.
LARRABEE: This is all very well, sir, but you have said nothing about — the business arrangements. I’m not sure that! —
MORIARTY (turning front): You have no choice.
LARRABEE: No choice. (Looks fiercely to MORIARTY.)
(MADGE rises to quiet him. JOHN drops handkerchief. Pause.)
MORIARTY (looking at him): No choice. (PRINCE aghast.) I do what I please. It pleases me to take hold of this case.
LARRABEE (angry — crossing to desk): Well, what about pleasing me?
(BASSICK looks across at LARRABEE.)
MORIARTY (perfectly quiet — looks at LARRABEE an instant): I am not so sure but I shall be able to do that as well. I will obtain the original letters from Miss Faulkner and negotiate the for much more than you could possibly obtain. In addition — you will have an opportunity to sell the counterfeit package to Holmes tonight, for a good round sum. And the money obtained from both these sources shall be divided as follows: you will take one hundred per cent, and I — nothing.
(Brief pause of astonishment.)
LARRABEE: Nothing!
MORIARTY: Nothing!
(LARRABEE moves to PRINCE.)
BASSICK: But we cannot negotiate those letters until we know who they incriminate. Mr. Larrabee has not yet informed us.
MORIARTY: Mr. Larrabee — (LARRABEE looks round to MORIARTY) — is wise in exercising caution. He values the keystone to his arch. But he will consent to let me know.
(LARRABEE goes to MADGE.)
MADGE (going across to MORIARTY): Professor Moriarty, that information we would like to give — only to you. (Looking toward BASSICK).
(MORIARTY motions BASSICK away. BASSICK moves a little. MORIARTY hands a card and pencil to MADGE from desk. MADGE writes a name and hands it to MORIARTY. He glances at name on card, then looks more closely. Looks up at MADGE astonished.)
MORIARTY: This is an absolute certainty.
LARRABEE: Absolute.
MORIARTY: It means that you have a fortune.
(PRINCE drinks in every word and look.)
Had I known this, you should hardly have had such terms.
LARRABEE: Oh well — we don’t object to a —
MORIARTY (interrupting): The arrangement is made, Mr. Larrabee — I bid you good morning. (Bowing with dignity and Pulling lever back.)
(LARRABEE, PRINCE and MADGE move toward door. Bolts, etc., slide back on door. BASSICK motions JOHN, who stands ready to conduct the party. BASSICK crosses to door. All bow a little and go out, followed by JOHN — business of door closing, bolts, etc. BASSICK turns at door and looks at MORIARTY.)
Bassick, place your men at nine to-night for Sherlock Holmes house in Baker Street.
BASSICK: You will go there yourself sir!
MORIARTY: I will go there myself — myself (Revolver out) I am the one to attend to this.
BASSICK: But this meeting to-night at twelve, to trap Holmes in the Gas Chamber in Swandem Lane.
MORIARTY: If I fail to kill him in Baker Street, we’ll trap him to-night in Swandem Lane. Either way I have him, Bassick. I have him. I have him.
(Lights off gradually but not too slow on this act, and leave light on MORIARTY’S face last.)
(Music. Swell out forte for change.)
DARK CHANGE
SCENE 2
SHERLOCK HOLMES’S Apartments in Baker Street. Evening
SCENE II. — In SHERLOCK HOLMES’ rooms in Baker Street — the large drawing-room of his apartments. An open, cheerful room, but not too much decorated. Rather plain. The walls are a plain tint, the ceiling ditto. The furniture is comfortable and goody but not elegant. Books, music, violins, tobacco pouches, pipes, tobacco, etc., are scattered in places about the room with some disorder. Various odd things are hung about. Some very choice pictures and etchings hang on the walls here and there, but the pictures do not have heavy gilt frames. All rather simple. The room gives more an impression of an artist’s studio. A wide door up right side to hall (and thus by stairway to street door). Door communicating with bedroom or dining-room. A fireplace with cheerful grate fire burning, throwing a red glow into room. Through a large arch can be seen a laboratory and a table with chemicals and various knick-knacks. The lighting should be arranged so that after the dark change the first thing that becomes visible — even before the rest of the room — is the glow of the fire, the blue flame of the spirit lamp — and SHERLOCK HOLMES seated among cushions on the floor before the fire. Light gradually on, but still leaving the effect of only firelight.
Music stops, just as lights up.
SHERLOCK HOLMES is discovered on the floor before the fire. He is in a dressing-gown and slippers and has his pipe. HOLMES leans against the chesterfield. A violin is upon the chesterfield, and the bow near it, as if recently laid down. Other things Scattered about him. He sits smoking awhile in deep thought. Enter BILLY, the boy page, or buttons. He comes down to back of table.
BILLY: Mrs. ‘Udson’s compliments, sir, an’ she wants to know if she can see you?
HOLMES (without moving, looking into fire thoughtfully): Where is Mrs. Hudson?
BILLY: Downstairs in the back kitchen, sir.
HOLMES: My compliments and I don’t think she can — from where she is.
BILLY: She’ll be very sorry, sir.
HOLMES: Our regret will be mutual.
(BILLY hesitates.)
BILLY: She says it was terribly important, sir, as she wants to know what you’ll have for your breakfast in the mornin’.
HOLMES: Same.
(Slight pause.)
BILLY: Same as when, sir?
HOLMES: This morning.
BILLY: You didn’t ‘ave nothing, sir — you wasn’t ‘ere.
HOLMES: Quite so — I won’t be here tomorrow.
BILLY: Yes, sir. Was that all, sir?
HOLMES: Quite so.
BILLY: Thank you, sir.
(BILLY goes out. After long pause bell rings off. Enter BILLY.)
It’s Doctor Watson, sir. You told me as I could always show ‘im up.
HOLMES: Well! I should think so. (Rises and meets WATSON.)
BILLY: Yes, sir, thank you, sir. Dr. Watson, sir!
(Enter DR. WATSON. BILLY, grinning with pleasure as he passes in, goes out at once.)
HOLMES (extending left hand to WATSON): Ah, Watson, dear fellow.
WATSON (going to HOLMES and taking his hand): How are you, Holmes?
HOLMES: I’m delighted to see you, my dear fellow, perfectly delighted, upon my word — but — I’m sorry to observe that your wife has left you in this way.
WATSON (laughing): She has gone on a little visit. (Puts hat on chair between bookcases.) But how did you know?
HOLMES (goes to laboratory table and puts spirit lamp out, then turns up lamp on table. All lights up): How do I know? Now, Watson, how absurd for you to ask me such a question as that. How do I know anything? (Comes down a little way. Gives a very little sniff an instant, smelling something.) How do I know that you’ve opened a consulting room and resumed the practice of medicine without letting me hear a word about it? How do I know that you’ve been getting yourself very wet lately? That you have an extremely careless servant girl — and that you’ve moved your dressing-table to the other side of your room?
WATSON (turning and looking at HOLMES in astonishment): Holmes, if you’d lived a few centuries ago, they’d have burned you alive. (Sits.)
HOLMES: Such a conflagration would have saved no considerable trouble and expense. (Strolls over to near fire.)
WATSON: Tell me, how did you know all that?
HOLMES (pointing): Too simple to talk about. (Pointing at WATSON’S shoe.) Scratches and clumsy cuts — on the side of shoe there just where the fire strikes it, somebody scraped away crusted mud — and did it badly — badly. There’s your wet feet and careless servant all on one foot. Face badly shaved on one side — used to be on left — light must have come from other side — couldn’t well move your window — must have moved your dressing-table. (Goes to mantel and gets cocaine, etc.)
WATSON: Yes, by Jove! But my medical practice — I don’t see how you —
HOLMES (glancing up grieved): Now, Watson! How perfectly absurd of you to come marching in here, fairly reeking with the odour of iodoform, and with the black mark of nitrate of silver on the inner side of your right forefinger and ask me how I know —
WATSON (interrupting with a laugh): Ha! ha! of course. But how the deuce did you know my wife was away and —
HOLMES (breaking in): Where the deuce is your second Waistcoat button, and what the deuce is yesterday’s boutonniere doing in to-day’s lapel — and why the deuce do you wear the expression of a —
WATSON (toying with a cigarette and laughing): Ha, ha, ha!
HOLMES: Ho! (Sneer.) Elementary! The child’s play of deduction!
(HOLMES has a neat morocco case and a phial in hand, which he brings to the table and lays carefully upon it. As WATSON sees HOLMES with the open case he looks restless and apparently
annoyed at what HOLMES is about to do, throwing cigarette on table. HOLMES opens the case and takes therefrom a hypodermic syringe, carefully adjusting the needle. Fills from phial. Then back left cuff of shirt a little. Pauses, looks at arm or wrist a moment. Inserts needle. Presses piston home.)
(Music. A weird bar or two — keeping on a strange pulsation on one note for cocaine business. Begin as HOLMES fills syringe.)
(WATSON has watched him with an expression of deep anxiety but with effort to restrain himself from speaking.)
WATSON (as HOLMES puts needle in case again. Finally speaks.) Which is it to-day? Cocaine or morphine or —
HOLMES: Cocaine, my dear fellow. I’m back to my old love. A seven per cent. solution. (Offering syringe and phial.) Woud you like to try some?
WATSON (emphatically — rise) Certainly not.
HOLMES (as if surprised): Oh! I’m sorry!
WATSON: I have no wish to break my system down before time.
(Pause.)
HOLMES: Quite right, my dear Watson — quite right — but, see, my time has come. (Goes to mantel and replaces case thereon. Throws himself languidly into chesterfield and leans back in luxurious enjoyment of the drug.)
WATSON (goes to table, resting hand on upper corner, looking at HOLMES seriously): Holmes, for months I have seen you use these deadly drugs — in ever-increasing doses. When they lay hold of you there is no end. It must go on, and on — until the finish.
HOLMES (lying back dreamily): So must you go on and on eating your breakfast — until the finish.
WATSON (approaches HOLMES): Breakfast is food. These are poisons — slow but certain. They involve tissue changes of a most serious nature.
HOLMES: Just what I want. I’m bored to death with my present tissues, and I’m trying to get a brand-new lot.
WATSON (going near HOLMES — putting hand on HOLMES’ shoulder) Ah Holmes — I am trying to save you.
HOLMES (earnest at once — places right hand on WATSON’S arm): You can’t do it, old fellow — so don’t waste your time.
(Music stops.)
(They look at one another an instant. WATSON sees cigarette on table — picks it up and sits.)
Watson, to change the subject a little. In the enthusiasm which has prompted you to chronicle and — if you will excuse my saying so, to somewhat embellish — a few of my little — adventures, you have occasionally committed the error — or indiscretion — of giving them a certain tinge of romance which struck me as being a trifle out of place. Something like working an elopement into the fifth proposition of Euclid. I merely refer to this in case you should see fit at some future time — to chronicle the most important and far-reaching case in my career — one upon which I have laboured for nearly fourteen months, and which is now rapidly approaching a singularly diverting climax — the case of Professor Robert Moriarty.
WATSON: Moriarty! I don’t remember ever having heard of the fellow.
HOLMES: The Napoleon of crime. The Napoleon! Sitting motionless like an ugly venomous spider in the centre of his web — but that web having a thousand radiations and the spider knowing every quiver of every one of them.
WATSON: Really! This is very interesting. (Turns chair facing HOLMES.)
HOLMES: Ah — but the real interest will come when the Professor begins to realise his position — which he cannot fail to do shortly. By ten o’clock to-morrow night the time will be ripe for the arrests. Then the greatest criminal trial of the century … the clearing up of over forty mysteries … and the rope for every one.
WATSON: Good! What will he do when he sees that you have him?
HOLMES: Do? He will do me the honour, my dear Watson, of turning every resource of his wonderful organization of criminals to the one purpose of my destruction.
WATSON: Why, Holmes, this is a dangerous thing. (Rises.)
HOLMES: Dear Watson, it’s perfectly delightful! It saves me any number of doses of those deadly drugs upon which you occasionally favour me with your medical views! My whole life is spent in a series of frantic endeavours to escape from the dreary common places of existence! For a brief period I escape! You should congratulate me!
WATSON: But you could escape them without such serious risks! Your other cases have not been so dangerous, and they were even more interesting. Now, the one you spoke of — the last time I saw you — the recovery of those damaging letters and gifts from a young girl who —
(HOLMES suddenly rises — stands motionless. WATSON looks at him surprise
d. Brief pause. Then WATSON sits in arm-chair.)
A most peculiar affair as I remember it. You were going to try an experiment of making her betray their hiding-place by an alarm of fire in her own house — and after that —
HOLMES: Precisely — after that.
(Pause.)
WATSON: Didn’t the plan succeed?
HOLMES: Yes — as far as I’ve gone.
Delphi Complete Works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (Illustrated) Page 933