Chapter 48, Chapter 15: You'd better watch yourself...
Chapter 15 "You'd better watch yourself"
William Moriarty never had direct contact with Milwellon, yet his name was ubiquitous in the black market.
Rumor has it that upon arriving in London, he would acquire the secrets and scandals of various celebrities at exorbitant prices. The value of the information was irrelevant. Even trivial matters like the academic performance of aristocratic children or the dessert shops favored by politicians could fetch him a five-figure sum.
Many people therefore concluded that he was simply spending money like water and would eventually suffer the consequences.
But the truth is quite the opposite.
Because of his lavish spending, intelligence kept pouring into him.
And money itself is his sharpest bait.
Fred from Moriarty's camp also secretly probed and discovered that Milvolton was not indiscriminate in accepting all comers.
He is extremely skilled at setting bait, using money to lure others to gradually cross his bottom line.
He never refuses information he already possesses; instead, he encourages the other party to produce more evidence or more explosive content.
“You know,” he said calmly but with unwavering conviction, “I will absolutely buy it.”
Everyone knows this: he has the money, he's willing to buy, and he can even help them launder the money cleanly, making the transaction look like a respectable business deal, rather than a betrayal or treachery.
And they wouldn't doubt that Milverton would lie.
Gradually, the name began to circulate among professionals in accounting, finance, and law, especially among those closely associated with the key figure.
Meanwhile, a company's falsified accounts, a copy of a divorce agreement, a dual contract for overseas property purchases... more and more intelligence related to his personal interests, and even national secrets, were silently flowing into Milwald's hands.
And it was through these means that he amassed even more wealth, reaching a height that comprised less than 0.1% of the population, a height that allowed him to look down upon everyone else, yet no one dared to look directly at him.
Moriarty was convinced they would eventually clash, but he never imagined their meeting would begin with Albert, who had just retired and officially returned to London to take over MI6.
An investigation into Milverton also began quietly.
Professor Moriarty noted that the bank robbery in the summer was a significant point in time.
Just before that, Milwaldton had been in a serious car accident.
The accident occurred late at night. He was returning to the city from the airport when, without warning, his vehicle crashed through the riverbank railing and plunged into the Thames. According to rescuers, the car resembled a black, leaden coffin, sinking vertically upon contact with the water. The driver's side door was forcibly opened from the outside, allowing a large influx of river water, nearly causing drowning.
The driver was conscious when he was rescued.
Milverton was trapped in the back seat. When the divers pulled him out, he was covered in blood, breathing weakly, and his body temperature was terribly low; he almost died on the spot.
After the car accident, Milwaukee suffered some unknown breakdown.
He refused to take any painkillers or nerve medications, and did not pursue liability for the accident. It was as if what was shattered that night was not just bones, but also parts of memory, or some kind of constraint.
Gradually, a subtle division appeared in him.
Even with his glasses on, he remained the same calculating, ever-smiling intelligence dealer, every glance carrying a price tag.
The moment he took off his glasses, it was as if a ray of light suddenly shone into his eyes.
His shoulders would unconsciously relax, and a carefree, even somewhat naive, smile would appear on his lips. He would savor a dessert with focused attention, observe the birds flitting past the window with interest, or hum a tuneless, lighthearted melody. He was no longer a businessman, but an experiencer filled with direct curiosity and joy about the world, greedily enjoying every moment of being alive.
Professor Moriarty was unsure whether this was a part of him he always had or a new change that occurred after the car accident.
To verify this, he reviewed all surveillance footage. Among them, the device Moran had installed on Milford's car captured a particularly bizarre clip:
The footage shows that when Milwaldton is alone, he will suddenly start talking to himself and saying things that are not meaningful.
The word "London" was mentioned most often.
London, as the name suggests, is the capital of the United Kingdom.
If we trace the etymology, Richard Coates proposed in 1998 that it originates from an Old Celtic word meaning "a river too wide to wade through." Of course, Coates believes that the ancient meaning of London referred to a section of the Thames River.
In addition, London could indeed be a person's name.
However, based on the limited background information available, there is no one named London in Milverton's social circle.
Similarly, London might be a code name for an operation.
If it is a code name, then the events associated with it might provide clues.
Professor Moriarty immediately thought of the previous bank robbery.
In that case, a phenomenon that could not be explained by conventional techniques caught his attention.
That is, the communication signals between the robbers and the police were simultaneously interrupted by a sudden electromagnetic interference. This had a dual impact: on the one hand, it forced the police to seize the opportunity to investigate the location of the robbers; on the other hand, it deprived the robbers of external surveillance, preventing them from realizing that the police had arrived at the scene immediately.
This was initially thought to be an accident. After all, during the investigation of the signal that caused the interference, no one was able to successfully locate any of the supercomputers disguised as ordinary servers.
However, there are two obvious problems here.
First, when interference occurs, the data traffic or power consumption of all smart devices in the area fluctuates synchronously. This can be seen in Milwaukee's program.
Secondly, the interference was not indiscriminate but precisely controlled. The interference only occurred within a 500-meter radius of the crime scene, clearly indicating computer control.
So, without the assistance of a supercomputer, how can Milwaukee achieve signal jamming?
After studying a map near Baker Street, Professor Moriarty discovered a very interesting clue.
That is, Baker Street itself is located in an area with a high concentration of academic resources. It is within walking or tram distance of Westmeester University, University College London, London School of Economics and Political Science, Imperial College London, and so on.
By using network-coordinated computing power—that is, leveraging the top computing resources of various universities and interconnecting them through academic networks—distributed computing and signal interference can be achieved. This not only achieves global interference but also makes the source of interference completely undetectable from the outside.
This is not a difficult task for Milverton.
Therefore, this was not unexpected by Professor Moriarty.
However, he will pay particular attention to Milwaukee's performance.
According to Moran's investigation, Milverton's habit of talking to himself when alone was not a habit he had developed before.
This must be investigated.
This is because some people do enjoy using self-talk to re-plan and adjust their actions and perceptions. Research from Bangor University in the UK has also demonstrated a positive correlation between self-talk and stronger cognitive abilities and intelligence. Milverton, who is already quite intelligent, wouldn't be surprised to have this habit.
If these symptoms appeared after the car accident, then Milwald may have developed post-traumatic stress disorder without realizing it, likely due to the near-death experience caused by the accident.
While experiencing emotional and personality changes, they also exhibit a clear tendency to dissociate. Sometimes they will observe their own behavior indifferently, and sometimes they will even be completely immersed in it without feeling that there is anything wrong with it.
Most importantly, he went straight home after the car accident and did not take any medication.
This is not a denial of the illness, but a proactive choice.
He was unwilling to let any chemicals interfere with his thinking because he knew that those drugs would weaken his sense of risk and soothe the paranoia and vigilance that fueled his actions.
Everything fits the pattern of functional adaptations the brain undergoes under extreme stress after trauma.
However, because he clearly displayed a friendly and approachable demeanor after the car accident, and his emotions did not spiral out of control, it actually made him seem normal and safe. From the perspective of the general public's tendency to seek advantage and avoid harm, no one would say no to Milverton now, and everyone hopes he can return to his former state.
However, this is precisely the area in which the diagnosis is most prone to misjudging that the patient's condition has improved.
He is most likely not cured, much less restored, but rather has entered a state of high-functioning stress, like a knife that has been sharpened too much.
Generally speaking, to determine whether someone is stable, there should be an observation period of at least six months or several years.
In most cases, people don't become weaker or more confused; instead, they become more logically self-consistent, isolated, or even dangerous.
"Medication can help him reintegrate into society."
"But he chose to turn away and go against the people."
Professor Moriarty simply observed Milverton's unusual behavior calmly, and if necessary, he would take control of the situation in advance.
However, in the process of observing Milverton, Professor Moriarty faced another, more imminent and thorny threat—Holmes, residing in 221B, discovered the existence of a criminal advisor.
Perhaps Holmes noticed the existence of the "criminal consultant" even earlier.
In the case of Jeff Hope's driver, Moriarty clearly sensed that Holmes was investigating a "crime consultant."
Holmes's abilities are far greater than imagined; his brother is now Mycroft Holmes, and Albert's superior. If he's determined to uncover the criminal consultant, Professor Moriarty believes he might not be able to escape unscathed.
The good news is that before boarding the Noah, Professor Moriarty received the intelligence that "Holmes suspects the true identity of the crime consultant is Charles Milverton."
If guided properly, Milvolton could continue to serve as a smokescreen for Moriarty's faction.
However, reality did not unfold as Albert had hoped. Milverton remained closely positioned around Holmes's camp throughout, constantly monitoring their movements. Albert had proposed a plan: to lure Milverton away, creating an opening to divert Holmes's attention. But Milverton's alertness and independence made this plan virtually impossible to implement.
In the interim, Professor Moriarty was pondering how to arrange the cases. He needed to prepare their unilateral alibis while also dismantling Milverton's.
However, Milwaldton himself had a conflict with Holmes and his team.
Professor Moriarty watched this scene from afar, with only one word in his mind: "unpredictable."
“Mr. Milverton doesn’t seem as terrible as I thought.” Michelle followed Professor Moriarty’s gaze and looked at Milverton, who had a cold and aloof expression, across the corridor.
“It’s probably because he owns a one-eyed stray cat,” Barton added. “That makes him seem more compassionate. Besides, people who own pets tend to put others at a lower level of vigilance.”
Professor Moriarty remained calm, showing no emotional fluctuation. "How did you know he had a cat?"
He remembered that yesterday at the math salon, the first and only time he met Milvolton, he didn't see Milvolton with a cat.
But Barton couldn't answer for a moment.
Professor Moriarty didn't want to dwell on it, and simply said, "By the way, he seems to be in a bad mood. Let's go and see him."
Upon hearing this, Barton and Michelle exchanged a glance but did not object. Rather than agreeing, it was more that subconsciously they preferred to follow Professor Moriarty's lead and derive a sense of security from his judgment.
After all, the aftermath of Professor Belfa's death has not yet subsided.
So, with an unspoken understanding, the three of them slowly approached Milvolton.
However, before they could get quite close, Milwaldton's curt "Shut up" left all three of them frozen in place.
Barton and Michelle immediately felt uneasy, realizing they had made the wrong decision.
Professor Moriarty remained unmoved, slowly speaking to Milverton: "Mr. Holmes believes Professor Belfar was murdered. In this case, is the problem due to inconsistent evidence or contradictory reasoning?"
Milverton seemed uninterested, dismissing the matter lightly: "I'm not interested in the case. After all, these kinds of cases are mostly committed by acquaintances, so they're not interesting. To put them in the newspaper, you have to put a lot of effort into packaging them to attract attention. Why should I waste my energy?"
Michelle was annoyed by his provocative gaze: "Why are you looking at us like that? Do you think we're the murderers?"
Milverton nodded readily: "Yes."
He continued, “According to your doctors’ assessment, Professor Belfa died between 10 p.m. and 2 a.m. last night. However, an undissolved poison was found under his tongue. Normally, even in death, the temperature of the mouth and residual saliva would be enough to dissolve a pill within an hour. This means that the poison was likely placed there after the body was discovered.”
Milverton's sharp eyes locked onto the tall, imposing Barton, and he said lazily, "You two were the first to discover the body. What did you do before contacting the police? Who saw it? And how can you prove your innocence?"
The air froze instantly.
A moment later, Michelle instinctively stepped forward, shielding Barton behind her, her voice trembling slightly but unwavering: "Mr. Barton wouldn't kill anyone! You have no idea how kind he is!"
Hearing such protection, Patton smiled, but his expression betrayed his nervousness.
It was as if the smile was merely to appease the agitated Michel, who himself was still observing Milverton's reaction.
Milvolton gave a contemptuous sneer, his voice low and menacing: "So certain, is it because you were the one who killed him?"
Michelle's face flushed red, her anger almost bursting out: "Don't push your luck!"
However, Professor Moriarty remained completely unmoved throughout this tense standoff.
He spoke slowly, his voice deep and steady: "Mr. Milverton, your deduction is incorrect."
“You believe the poison under the tongue was placed this morning. That’s not true.” He paused, his gaze sweeping over Milvolton, calm and sharp. “First of all, the area under the tongue is not an environment where the pill will dissolve. After death, saliva circulation stops, and the pill cannot dissolve on its own. In other words, the fact that it was under the deceased’s tongue does not necessarily mean it was placed after death.”
Michelle immediately looked at Milverton and saw his lips twitch slightly. He clearly realized that his speculation had a flaw, and couldn't help but feel a little pleased.
Professor Moriarty didn't stop. He continued, "Secondly, the killer's logic is to reduce suspicion. If they can create the illusion of a natural death, why would they deliberately leave obvious signs of homicide? Knowing that the residue under the tongue would be discovered only increases the risk. What benefit would that bring to the murderer?"
As soon as he finished speaking, Milwald fell into a stiff silence.
Before he could speak again, the kitten in his arms suddenly started to struggle.
Without warning, sharp teeth bit into his wrist.
Even though it didn't hurt, Milwaldton still subconsciously loosened his grip.
The next second, the grayish-white shadow leaped from his arms, its paws slipping on the ground as it landed, but it didn't turn back, running straight in the direction Watson and the others had gone. Its footsteps were hurried and disordered, and it quickly disappeared around the corner of the corridor.
Milwald leaned forward noticeably by half a step.
That was the beginning of a chase.
But that step was never taken.
He stood there, as if held down by something invisible. Then, he turned around, deliberately facing away from the direction the cat had left.
"Silly cat."
His tone was very low, almost like a casual remark.
Professor Moriarty's gaze lingered for a moment in the direction the cat had left before returning to Milverton, his tone almost polite: "Aren't you going to chase after it?"
Milwald didn't turn around.
"It hasn't suffered enough."
He spoke quickly, as if drawing a conclusion for himself: "Once you've suffered, you'll naturally know to come back."
As soon as he finished speaking, his jawline tightened.
Moriarty's eyes flickered as he gazed in the direction the kitten had left: "..."
*
Winter nights come faster.
Several hours later, the cruise ship's deck was completely swallowed by the night.
The wind was colder than during the day, and the sea was dark and undulating, like a silent breath. Lights lit up one by one along the deck, cutting the wooden planks underfoot into distinct grids of light and shadow.
It will take at least eight hours before we dock.
At the end of the deck, Watson was the first to stop.
He had only gone to the railing to get some fresh air and, as Holmes had instructed, to check for any suspicious traces that had been deliberately left or discarded. After all, someone who had possessed poison might have thrown the bottle into the sea before reaching the shore to evade police investigation.
However, at the edge of the light, he saw a color that shouldn't have been there.
It's blood...?
There weren't many marks, as if someone had hurriedly wiped them clean but hadn't managed to wipe them completely. The dark marks seeped into the grain of the wood, extending intermittently for a short distance. There were also a few messy scratches nearby, haphazardly placed, clearly not left by someone.
A chill crept up my spine.
The amount of blood wasn't large, but the shape of the splatter and the discontinuous trajectory suggested a struggle rather than a fatal wound. The haphazard scratches nearby conveyed an animalistic fear and helplessness.
This indicates that Miguel II was injured and was fleeing or hiding in a panic.
But this is the ship's side; where can we hide?
The only outside is the pitch-black sea that swallows everything.
Just then, he heard footsteps behind him stop almost simultaneously.
Hua Sheng suddenly turned around.
Milverton stood a few steps away, the slanting lamplight casting half his shadow into darkness. His gaze was fixed precisely on the chaotic mess. Without surprise, without immediately moving forward, he simply stood there, like a plaster statue suddenly cooled, even the reflection behind his glasses frozen in place.
Milverton's gaze fell on the marks, and he fell into a long silence.
Even though there had been unpleasantness before, gentleness and kindness were almost in Watson's nature.
His first thought was not to upset Milwaldton too much.
Watson opened his mouth, his voice lower than he had expected: "Milverton, judging from the pattern of the blood, it doesn't seem like a fatal wound. It's likely just startled and has hidden in some corner. There are many pipes and storage rooms on the lower deck; we can have someone conduct a systematic search."
The sound of the wind swept across the deck, quietly swallowing up his softer part, "Don't think about the worst right now."
He himself wasn't entirely sure when he uttered those words of comfort.
The wind swept across the deck, carrying away the possibility of the unspoken second half of the sentence.
Milverton did not respond to the bloodstains, nor to the cat hair.
He simply raised his hand and pressed his temples.
"What's the rush? I just have a headache."
His tone was flat, almost indifferent, "It's just a worthless stray cat that nobody wants. You can find plenty of them on the street. I don't need this one; I don't need to waste time looking for it."
Watson: "..."
He was momentarily speechless.
The comforting words I had prepared were stuck in my throat by those words, making them seem superfluous and foolish.
In the very end, all the words Watson left unspoken turned into a barely audible sigh, dissipating into the black night wind.
He had no energy to try to say anything, but he took one last look at Milverton's plaster-white, stiff profile, then turned around and silently left the suffocating deck.
—You...you'd better watch yourself.
—Millworth.
-----------------------
Author's note: Sleep!
Here are 20 random red envelopes. Go to bed early!
So, do you want a more profound ending, or a lighthearted but easily forgotten one? Both will have a happy ending.
The former will result in a deeper incision. (For reference only)
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