Becoming Professor Moriarty’s Probability

"Miss Holmes."

"........"

"I'm scared..."

A few minutes after Isaac Adler found a threatening message inside his room,

"Should I leave the estate right now?"

"........."

"I’m feeling so anxious that I think I’ll go insane at this rate. Miss Watson, could you pour me a brandy, perhaps...?"

"... Would you please shut up already."

Charlotte Holmes, who had come to Adler's room along with Gia Lestrade and Rachel Watson upon Adler's call to examine the letter, finally had enough of Adler’s fidgeting and whining and sharply whispered those words.

"Oh dear. A threatening letter, isn't that serious?"

As Adler wilted with a downcast expression, a new voice spoke up from the side.

"If you stay here after receiving such a dreadful thing, won’t it be really dangerous for you?"

"........"

"So, why not get the hell out of this pl… I mean, evacuate from this place then?”

Helen Baskerville, the heir of the mansion, who was passing by with her hands behind her back, was pressuring Adler with a voice much sharper than it had been a few days ago.

"Ah, Miss Helen. I'm very sorry to hear about your relative..."

"I have no desire to hear from you the same words that have been repeated dozens of times to me this morning already. So, what do you think of my opinion?"

"... Of course, it's frightening, but leaving like this would feel even more unsettling."

Reading the subtlety in her tone, Isaac Adler began a tense exchange of words with her, his voice laced with a touch of laughter.

"It seems I must find out who dislikes my stay in this mansion enough to engage in such nasty and childish antics before I can leave with a clear conscience."

"... What you're saying seems to imply suspicion towards me, doesn't it?"

"Oh, did it sound that way to you?"

As unusual as it was, Adler was actually confronting a woman, which left Watson and Lestrade with puzzled expressions.

"... Don't worry, Mr. Adler."

Amidst the increasingly chilly atmosphere, Charlotte Holmes, after scrutinizing the letter for a moment, placed it on the desk and began to speak.

"That letter, it's not addressed to you."

"... What?"

"What do you mean, Holmes?"

With both Lestrade and Watson looking more perplexed than Adler, Charlotte quietly tapped the desk and began to explain.

"If the letter simply said treasure your life, I too would have guessed it was for Adler."

"But, what then?"

"However, the letter states, life and purity, doesn't it?"

Watson and Lestrade started nodding as if they had realized something upon hearing Charlotte’s reply.

"In London, no, in all of Britain, if you had to name the person for whom purity is the most meaningless, eight out of ten would cast their vote for Isaac Adler."

"That's harsh..."

"Of course, it might be a code only Isaac Adler could decipher. But if that were the case, he wouldn't have brought it to us in the first place, given his nature."

Despite Adler's glum protest, Charlotte continued her deduction, paying him no heed.

"Then, to whom does this letter really address?"

"That should be obvious."

Quietly, Charlotte turned her gaze, responding to a question from Helen Baskerville who had been listening intently to her all along.

"The recipient of this letter is, in fact, you."

"... Me?"

"It's you who received the threatening letter."

A silence crept into Isaac Adler's room for a brief moment at her declaration.

"Miss Helen, who was originally supposed to stay in this room?"

"... Yes. It was arranged for me to stay here, but my uncle, Sir Charles, took it upon himself to change that arrangement."

"I suspected as much."

Charlotte Holmes gazed down at the letter amidst the silence, her lips curling subtly at being right.

"The sender of the letter was unaware of that fact and secretly delivered the letter. Thus, inadvertently causing Mr. Adler to be frightened."

"But who, and why...?"

"As I am not the one who sent it, I'm afraid I don't know the details."

She then turned to Helen and began to speak.

"The letter's recipient is well-educated, subscribes to The Times, and is quite close to you but is not a member of this household. That's all I can deduce."

"... How can you know all that?"

"It's a simple deduction, really."

Charlotte, with a very subtle satisfied expression on her face, began to explain, responding to Helen's startled reaction.

"To my eyes, the neat 9-point typeface of The Times and the writing of a cheap weekly paper appear considerably different. It's actually basic knowledge for a crime expert, you see."

"Ah..."

"And although the name is smeared to avoid detection, the fact that they are subscribed to The Times means that they are highly educated. Furthermore, it's from someone intimate enough to know you were supposed to stay in this room."

"........."

"However, it doesn't seem to be someone from this household. They were unaware that Adler took over the room instead of you."

Charlotte, having finished her explanation, then posed a question to Helen, who was staring back at her with a stunned expression.

"Doesn't this narrow down the possibilities quite a bit?"

"........."

"You must have at least one person in mind who fits the bill, don't you?"

Then, Helen Baskerville, with a pale face, quietly nodded her head.

"There is… one person, indeed."

"That makes it simple, then. If we rummage through the garbage bin at that person's home and find scraps of typeface that have been clipped out, that will be the end of it."

Charlotte, rising to her feet immediately, urged Helen with a glance.

"What are you waiting for? Why aren't you leading the way?"

"... Amazing, Miss Holmes~"

"... Quiet."

Her voice was unusually icy, in response to Isaac Adler's teasing voice coming from behind her.

"I know for a fact that you knew from the beginning that the letter wasn't meant for you."

"... I'm not quite sure what you're talking about."

"Hmph."

As Adler feigned ignorance, tilting his head to the very end, Charlotte, casting a side glance at him, murmured while starting to walk alongside the now-standing Helen Baskerville.

"... Why do I keep feeling that you're somehow delaying things?"

"........."

"Well, for now, I'll play along with your rhythm."

She sighed, standing by the doorway, about to finish her words,

"After this case is over, will you take responsibility for your actions...?"

"Let's go together."

However, Adler, who had quietly approached right behind her, interjected with a bright smile and a whisper, causing Charlotte's expression to sour rapidly.

"... I wasn't going to say this, but frankly, you're one of the prime suspects in this case. And yet you still insist on meddling?"

"Ehehe."

Adler, sliding his fingers to interlock with hers, beamed at her with a carefree smile.

"That's not the kind of situation you can smile your way out of, you know?"

But a few minutes later, Charlotte found herself walking across the moor, hand in hand with Adler, her head bowed deeply.

"... You've been swayed though, haven't you?"

"Shut up."

.

.

.

.

.

"Excuse me..."

".........."

"I have a question."

Helen Baskerville, leading Adler and Charlotte who were awkwardly holding hands, couldn't hold back any longer and asked them a question.

"... Are you two in a romantic relationship?"

"The reason I'm accompanying Isaac Adler is not for such a foolish reason. It's purely to keep an eye on one of the prime suspects..."

- Click...

"... Uh."

Charlotte Holmes, who had immediately responded with a cold voice to that question, was interrupted by Adler, who suddenly kissed her on the neck, causing her words to halt.

"It seems the recent rumors spreading across England were true..."

"No, my girlfriend is Gia Lestrade, you know?"

"... Are you talking about the person who, despite being overwhelmed by Miss Holmes' eloquence, ended up guarding a mansion that didn't need defending?"

"That's right."

Observing this, Helen Baskerville muttered quietly to herself, casting a contemptuous look at Adler who spoke with a carefree voice.

"Scumbag."

"... Haha."

"I despise your kind the most in this world."

Adler then looked at her with mismatched eyes, one black and the other grey, while forcing out an awkward smile.

"......."

Helen, clicking her tongue at the sight, noticed that Charlotte, who was coldly glaring at Adler, had eyes tinted with gold.

"... Why do you like such trash?"

"Excuse me, I can hear everything, you know…?"

After staring blankly for a while, she cautiously approached Charlotte and asked her a question.

"Trash can be recycled."

"... I've heard that human trash can't be recycled though."

"That's because it's not human."

"Ah."

Enlightened by Charlotte's ambiguous answer, Helen quietly nodded and moved on ahead.

"Everyone actually likes me..."

"... Please just shut up."

"......."

And so, they climbed the desolate moor in silence for a while.

"... Here we are."

After a while, as a cabin stood still in the middle of the moor came into view, Helen Baskerville pointed ahead and spoke up.

"Although I can hardly believe that person would send me such a message, the only one who fits Miss Holmes's deduction is that person."

"Who resides in that cabin over there?"

"Julia Stapleton. An entomologist and educator, she was closely associated with my uncle. Of course, we were also good friends."

Hearing this, Charlotte quietly tilted her head, pondering.

"... Is there something wrong?"

"No, let's go inside first."

But soon after, she sighed quietly, stepped forward, and began knocking on the door of the mansion.

"Is anyone home? Miss Stapleton?"

Yet, for some reason, the owner of the mansion remained silent.

"... It appears Miss Stapleton may have very poor hearing."

"I don’t think so? She didn't seem to have poor hearing..."

"... Shall I give it a try?"

Just as Charlotte quietly grumbled and Helen looked on bewildered, suspecting something was amiss.

"... Miss Holmes."

It was then that Adler, who had turned toward a window at the side, quietly cracked a smile and spoke.

"You might want to come over here."

At his words, both Charlotte and Helen Baskerville moved quietly to the side, their faces hardening.

"........"

"Miss… Miss Stapleton..."

The prime suspect who had sent the letter, Julia Stapleton, lay collapsed on the blood-soaked floor, her body growing cold.

"... This mystery is quite peculiar, isn't it?"

As Charlotte stared silently at the scene, Isaac Adler whispered to her in a low voice.

"I'm not sure what you're playing at."

To his whisper, Charlotte Holmes responded with a voice as sharp as she could muster.

"... Was the reason you tried to divert my attention with a clone, because of this?"

"Ah, you caught me."

The moment those words ended, Adler, who had mumbled with an innocent voice beside her, vanished into thin air with a puff of smoke.

"Inspector Lestrade."

Amidst the smoke, Charlotte Holmes let out a quiet sigh and began giving instructions to Lestrade, whom she had secretly had on standby without Adler's knowledge.

"Arrest Isaac Adler on suspicion of murder, immediately."

.

.

.

.

.

Meanwhile, at that same moment.

Warning! – Probability of being detained — 100%

Should I say congratulations?

"Indeed, you have already noticed."

Not far from Stapleton's mansion, in the desolate wilderness, Isaac Adler, having retracted his doppelgänger, muttered in a dejected tone.

"... Looks like I'm really facing imprisonment this time, huh."

"... Huh?"

In front of Adler, a girl with messy black hair who had been having her head stroked quietly tilted her head, looking up at him.

***

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