On the evening of Friday, April 24, 1891, I was surprised to see my old friend, the famous detective Sherlock Holmes, visit me. I hadn’t seen much of him in the past few months. The last I heard, he was in Paris working on a secret project for the French government.

“Holmes!” I exclaimed. “It’s so nice to see you! Are you alright? You look even paler and thinner than usual.”

“I’ve been under a lot of stress lately,” he admitted, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Do you mind if I close your shutters?” Without waiting for my answer, he went from window to window, closing and bolting the shutters. The room grew dim, with only a lamp on the table providing light.

“Are you afraid of something?” I asked.

“Yes, I am,” he replied.

“Afraid of what?”

“Air guns.”

“My dear Holmes, what are you talking about?”

“I’m not a fearful man, Watson, but I’m not foolish either. It would be foolish not to recognize danger when it’s near.”

Holmes sat down in an armchair. “I apologize for coming so late,” he said.

“That’s alright,” I responded.

“Would it be a problem if I leave your house later by climbing over your back garden wall?”

“Why do you want to do that?” I asked.

Holmes showed me his hand, and I saw that two of his knuckles were cut and bleeding.

“This trouble I’m in is not imaginary, Watson,” he said. “It’s real and painful. Are you very busy right now?”

“Not exactly,” I replied.

“Would you like to come with me for a week somewhere in Europe?” Holmes asked.

“Where in Europe?”

“Oh, anywhere. It doesn’t matter to me.”

I found this very strange. Holmes was acting differently than usual, and his suggestion of a random holiday was unusual for him. His pale face, bright eyes, and tense jaw showed that he was under a lot of stress. I was really worried about him.

“Holmes, please tell me what’s going on?” I asked.

Seeing the concern on my face, he folded his hands together, sighed deeply, and began to explain.

“I don’t suppose you’ve heard of Professor James Moriarty?” he asked.

“No,” I replied.

“Remarkable!” said Holmes, shaking his head. “He’s the greatest criminal of the century, yet no one knows about him. That’s his brilliance. I tell you, Watson, if I could get rid of that man, it would be the greatest achievement of my life. Nothing else could compare. If Moriarty were in prison, I could retire happily and focus on my chemistry and violin. But as long as he’s free, I can never be at peace.”

“What has he done?” I asked.

“Moriarty’s life is extraordinary. It’s a shame because with his intelligence, he could have done so much good. From a young age, he was gifted with numbers. By the age of twenty-one, he became a professor of mathematics at a top university. He had a brilliant future ahead of him.”

“Yet he lacked many of the qualities most people have, like compassion, pity, and guilt. He had no conscience—no sense of right and wrong. His heart was cold, and his desire for power and wealth was endless.

“Dark rumors started about him, and soon Moriarty had to leave the university and come to London. It was here that his true criminal career began.

“No one knows London’s criminal world better than I do, Watson. For years, I felt that some evil power was influencing this city. It supports murderers, thieves, and forgers, and makes it hard for the police to catch them.

“I sensed its presence in many unsolved crimes and tried hard to uncover it. Finally, I found a clue and followed it through many tricky twists until it led me to Professor Moriarty.

“He is like the Napoleon of crime, Watson. He sits still like a spider in the center of his web. The web has thousands of threads spreading out, and if any of them moves, he knows it. He doesn’t do much himself; he just makes plans. But he has many agents working for him. An agent might be caught, but the power behind them is rarely discovered.”

“This was the criminal organization I found out about and decided to expose and destroy. But Moriarty was so careful that I couldn’t find any evidence linking him to his many crimes. After three months of trying, I had to admit that I had finally met an enemy who was as smart as I am. Even though I was horrified by his actions, I couldn’t help but admire his skill.

“Then, about three months ago, he made a small mistake—a tiny slip-up—but it was enough! From that mistake, I started to build my case against him. Now, I am ready to capture him. On Monday, in three days, the Professor and his gang will be arrested. After that will come the trial of the century—solving over forty mysteries and destroying the Moriarty gang.

“If I could have reached this point without the Professor knowing, everything would have been fine. But he was too clever for that. I’ve never faced an opponent like him before. He anticipated every move I made to trap him. He tried to escape several times, but I managed to pull him back each time. I still don’t know for sure if I’ve got him.”

“This morning,” Sherlock Holmes continued, “I took the final steps to trap Moriarty. I was sitting in my room, thinking about everything, when the door opened. I looked up and saw Professor Moriarty standing right in front of me.

“My nerves are usually strong, Watson, but I admit I was startled to see the man I consider my greatest enemy standing in my doorway. He’s a striking figure—very tall and thin, with a large, domed forehead and deeply sunken eyes. Realizing the danger I was in, I quickly took a revolver from a drawer and hid it in my pocket, pointing it at him through the cloth.

‘It is a dangerous habit,’ he said, ‘to keep a loaded gun in the pocket of your dressing gown.’

“I took out the gun and put it on the table. Moriarty smiled, but his eyes made me glad the gun was still close by.

‘You clearly don’t know me,’ he said.

‘On the contrary,’ I replied. ‘My reaching for the gun shows that I do. Please, sit down. I can give you five minutes if you have something to say.’

‘You know what I’m going to say,’ Moriarty said.

‘And I’m sure you know my answer,’ I replied.

“‘You’re really going to do this?’ Moriarty asked.

‘Absolutely,’ I replied.

“He reached into his pocket, and I raised the pistol from the table. But all he took out was a notebook. He opened it and began reading:

‘On January 23, you interfered with my plans at a bank. In mid-February, you disrupted a break-in at an art gallery. At the end of March, you stopped an important assassination. Everywhere I turn, there you are, Mr. Holmes. And now, in late April, I find myself so trapped by you that I am in serious danger of losing my freedom. The situation is becoming impossible.’

“What do you suggest?” I asked.

“You must stop this, Mr. Holmes,” Moriarty said.

“I plan to,” I replied, “once you’re in prison.”

Moriarty shook his head. “A man of your intelligence should know that will never happen. If you continue with this foolish plan, the result will not be pleasant for you. I don’t know why you are smiling. I assure you I am serious.”

“Danger is part of my job,” I said.

“I’m not just talking about danger,” he said. “I’m talking about your death, Mr. Holmes. You’re not just threatening me, but a huge organization that is much bigger and more powerful than you know. You must step aside, or you will be crushed.”

“This has been a real pleasure,” I said, standing up. “If that’s all, Professor, I have other things to do.”

He just looked at me, shaking his head sadly. “Well, I’ve done all I can,” he said finally. “I’ve enjoyed our little battle, Mr. Holmes. But remember, I know every move you’re planning. I know you can’t act before Monday, and a lot can happen before then. If, in the end, you are clever enough to destroy me, I will destroy you at the same time.”

“If I could be sure of destroying you, Professor Moriarty, I would gladly accept my own destruction as the price,” I said.

“I can promise you the second part,” he snarled, “but not the first.” Then he stormed out of the room.

“And that,” Sherlock Holmes concluded, “was my conversation with Professor James Moriarty. I have to say, it had a disturbing effect on me. Moriarty is not just making empty threats. His calm and precise way of speaking made me feel he meant every word.”