Читать книгу Sherlock Holmes Mystery Magazine #7 - Nicholas Briggs - Страница 5

MORIARTY’S MAILBAG

When I, Professor James Moriarty, was approached by the editor of this magazine, and asked if I would contribute an advice column for the present issue, I was, to say the least, surprised. Foremost, I wondered, how this editor find me? The world’s greatest detective, Sherlock Holmes, has been searching for me for years, without the slightest success. So, for that matter, has Scotland Yard. Yet, now, a mere editor of a second rate penny dreadful, takes it upon himself one afternoon, to make a few preliminary inquiries, and suddenly, within minutes, manages to discover my ultra secret inner sanctum sanctorum. I am not some petty pick pocket who lives in a run-down flophouse in White Chapel, I am the most powerful criminal mastermind on earth. (Though, I must say, I do occasionally enjoy a nice stroll in the White Chapel district, but that is neither here nor there.)

In addition I am repulsed by the decision to name this publication, Sherlock Holmes Mystery Magazine, after my arch enemy, and sworn nemesis. (Not to mention despised rival.) What resident lunatic at the Bedlam Asylum thought this was a sensible idea? A far more appropriate name for a quality periodical, would be, Professor James Moriarty’s Mystery Magazine. I suggest the publishers consider making this change as soon as possible.

All of which brings me back to the self-same editor of this little pulp digest. What could possibly have possessed this ink drenched renegade from Grubb Street to make him believe that I, the greatest villain who ever lived, would even be interested in answering questions about my criminal methods for the general public? After all, I have a vast crime network to oversee. Does this editor really think I have the time to waste in the petty pursuit of his frivolous and misguided enterprise?

But as it happens, I must admit that I was intrigued by the sheer audacity that this man displayed in seeking me out, and upon further reflection, I now find my interest somewhat piqued . . . as a result, I have decided to temporarily set aside my disdain for the entire human race long enough to participate in this exercise in futility and respond to some missives from the general populous.

[Editorial note—I fear the Professor has underestimated my friend Holmes, for it was he who informed Mr Kaye of the address of Moriarty’s eyrie, so to speak.—JHW]

* * * *

Dear Professor Moriarty,

I have recently embezzled a sizable suym from my employers at a large, and well respected bank. What shall I do with the money?

—Loaded in Lancashire

Dear Loaded,

Place it all in a bag, and send it to me.

* * * *

Professor Moriarty,

I have an excellent plan for an extortion plot involving a number of prominent citizens. How can I avoid being caught?

—Confident In Cornwall

Dear Confident,

To begin with, I would suggest that you don’t send letters to people you don’t know, boasting about crimes you haven’t yet committed.

* * * *

Dear Professor Moriarty,

I am an inmate at Newgate Callendar prison. I would like to escape. Can you help me?

—Your friend, 248072931

Dear 248072931,

Enclosed is a file and a recipe for a cake that you can bake the file into.

* * * *

Dear Professor Moriarty,

I’m an artist who is planning to counterfeit fifty pound notes. Your thoughts would be appreciated.

—Baffled in Blackpool

Dear Baffled,

When you draw Her Royal Majesty, Queen Victoria, make sure she isn’t winking, or in her knickers.

* * * *

Dear Professor Moriarty,

My husband is having an affair with my best friend. I plan on poisoning the both of them. What kind of poison would you recommend I use?

—Beth in Bath

Dear Beth,

I’m very sorry, madam, but I simply cannot condone a crime that is committed for any reason other than profit.

* * * *

Dear Professor Moriarty,

Why are you called the Napoleon of crime? Since the English defeated Napoleon, why aren’t you called the Wellington of crime?

—Concerned in Kensington

Dear Concerned,

You sir, are an idiot.

* * * *

Dear Professor Moriarty,

Is it true that you control all the crime in London?

—Wondering in the West End

Dear Wondering,

Yes, it’s true. If a school boy steals a loaf of bread from a bakery, I get half.

* * * *

Dear Professor Moriarty,

What is the best way to rob a bank and not get caught?

—Befuddled in Brighton

Dear Befuddled,

Subcontract.

* * * *

Dear Professor Moriarty,

What is your opinion of Sherlock Holmes?

—Curious in Cardiff

Dear Curious,

I think he’s a fat, bloated, pompous, know it all. No, wait, that’s his brother, Mycroft. Sherlock is all right, though he does tend to go off on those silly tangents of his about cigar ashes, different kinds of mud, boot marks , and the like. Oh, let’s face it, the man is a crashing bore.

* * * *

Dear Professor Moriarty,

How is it that you did not die when you fell into the Reichenbach Falls with Sherlock Holmes?

—Pondering in Picadilly

Dear Pondering,

That’s simple. It wasn’t me who fought Holmes that day, it was a look-a-like actor that I hired to play me. And, in an odd twist of fate, apparently Holmes had done the same. Sadly, both actors drowned. While they were locked in mortal battle, Holmes and I were having cocktails in Davos. Afterwards, we went to our banks in Zurich, and visited our money.

* * * *

Dear Professor Moriarty,

How have you managed to elude capture for all these years?

—Reluctant in Regent Park

Dear Reluctant.

I own a very, very well oiled bicycle.

* * * *

Dear Professor Moriarty,

How can I get my boyfriend of five years to propose to me?

—Betty in Billingsgate

Dear Betty,

You must have me confused with Miss Katherine, the agony columnist, for the Daily Mail.