Becoming Professor Moriarty’s Probability

The day after Adler's brief letter to the three women arrived in their respective places of residence. On a train heading to Devonshire, where the Baskerville estate was located…

"Holmes."

"........"

"What have you been pondering so seriously about since earlier?"

Rachel Watson had been travelling with Charlotte Holmes since early morning. Seeing her partner being deeply lost in thought for several hours already, she couldn’t help but ask.

"There's a sense of foreboding."

Hearing her question, Charlotte muttered in response, not glancing at her as she replied.

"Why suddenly?"

"Just a hunch."

"Wasn't it Charlotte Holmes who hated detectives, who go around flaunting their , more than anything in the world?"

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

"Never thought I'd hear such a thing from you."

"What I hate are incompetent detectives who strut around while brandishing their baseless intuition."

Charlotte’s eyes lit up as she accepted Watson’s words.

"At least I'm aware that there's someone secretly watching us from behind. When there’s such solid evidence to back it up, that's when I can rely on intuition."

"... Ah."

"Don't turn around, Watson. There's no need to let them know we're onto them."

Charlotte restrained Watson who was about to turn around in a moment of tension, then quietly looked out the window.

"Even though it's morning, Devonshire has such a creepy atmosphere. While London’s streets are no less gloomy, it feels like it can’t even compete with this creepiness. It’s so strong that I can’t even present a business card here.”¹

"Holmes, this isn't the time to be so nonchalant, is it?"

Hearing Charlotte murmur so in a nonchalant voice, Watson whispered to Charlotte in a low, creeping voice.

"It's better to act naturally and nonchalant, than to behave unnaturally and blatantly display that we’ve already noticed something amiss.”

"Still, if it's one of Moriarty's underlings..."

"That's fine. I can assure you that the person watching us now is completely at odds with that woman."

"... What's your evidence, my friend?"

As Charlotte muttered in a natural tone, Watson, her eyes brimming with curiosity, questions as naturally as she possibly could.

"Watson. I've thought this for a long time, but don't go acting anywhere."

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

"If I had to pick the worst liar or actor in London, I'd confidently choose Rachel Watson without hesitation."

"... So, what's this evidence?"

But then, after being rebuffed by Charlotte, Watson murmured meekly, deflated.

"Actually, it's someone you know very well."

"What?"

"There's only one fool in all of London who follows someone wearing a fake moustache and glasses."

"... Inspector Lestrade?"

"If someone busy with police work is on the same train as us this early in the morning, it can hardly count as coincidence."

As Charlotte spoke while directing a sharp glance in a certain direction, far away, a figure who had been peeking from behind a large newspaper quietly hid their head behind it.

"Weren't we not going to show that we'd noticed?"

"Since you've already given it away in various ways, it does not really matter anymore."

And thus silence ensued between them…

"Then, perhaps the inspector... received that letter as well?"

"I'm not certain, but it seems highly likely."

"Hmm..."

Watson, who had been quietly observing Charlotte's expression, suddenly murmured with a sly look on her face.

"Is that why you're in a bad mood?"

"........"

"Because you're not sure you're the chosen one. Isn't that right?"

Charlotte's gaze, which had been fixed outside the window, silently shifted towards Watson.

"Sorry, but that's something that applies to you too..."

"Eh?"

Just as Watson tilted her head at her partner's statement, wrought with hidden meaning and implications, a sound came from outside.

- Screeeeech...

It was the noise of the train slowing down and coming to a halt.

"It seems we've arrived."

"Indeed."

"Then let's go, Holmes. For Neville's sake, I want to settle things with Isaac Adler."

Watson, having heard the noise, rolled up her sleeves, jumped up from her seat, and briskly started walking towards the exit. There was a hint of fiery determination brimming in her eyes.

"........"

Meanwhile, Charlotte quietly stood up and followed behind her.

"If you're going to tail someone, you might want to hide the Red Mana Leauge's insignia, don't you think?"

As she was about to disembark the train, Charlotte murmured those words with a dark glint in her eyes, causing the passengers in the surroundings to lift their heads simultaneously.

"Or, perhaps, you guys weren’t planning to hide it, were you?”

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

"Must be tough, serving a master in Romania and then a master in London as well.”

Finished with her words, Charlotte disembarked the train, while all the passengers in that bogey silently glared at her.

.

.

.

.

.

"It feels eerily quiet somehow... Even London at dawn isn't usually this gloomy."

A few minutes later, on a secluded path near the estate…

"This is exactly the kind of atmosphere our young detective loves, right? Criminals must be swarming around at night in this place."

Watson, ascending the inclined path that was filled with leaves that had fallen due to the chilly wind, cheerfully attempted to strike up a conversation with Holmes as she had been silent for quite a while already.

"........."

Charlotte, however, merely continued walking forward with a sharp expression on her face, ignoring her.

"Hey, are you still upset about that incident?"

Watson, glancing at her cautiously, ventured the question in a low voice.

"There's no need to worry too much. Neville is tight-lipped. So the chance of Isaac Adler hearing about it is..."

"... Wait a moment."

However, Charlotte cut her off mid-sentence with a raise of her hand and started walking towards a nearby bush.

"Inspector, since it seems we are headed in the same direction, how about you quit the pointless hiding and join us?"

Charlotte whispered in a low voice, gazing intently at the bush. Not long after, a head suddenly popped out of the said bush.

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

And silence followed…

"How did you notice me?"

"Are you seriously asking that question?"

"My hiding skills are usually undetectable even to London's most notorious criminals."

Lestrade, removing her fake moustache and glasses, muttered sheepishly as she brushed the leaves off her head. Meanwhile, Charlotte only gave her a dismissive look in response.

"Every criminal knows too well that the moment they reveal themselves, they are as good as caught."

"........."

"The moment you get within visible distance of a criminal, your arrest rate is practically 100 percent. I don't understand why you're so obsessed with hiding."

"Is that so?"

Stung by her sharp advice, Gia Lestrade scratched her head, her eyes slightly downcast.

"Sigh, why on earth did Adler..."

".......?"

"... Never mind."

Charlotte muttered discontentedly while looking at Lestrade. However, she soon exhaled a sigh and began walking forward once more, not finishing her words.

- Trudge, trudge...

Thus, the three women started walking the path in silence.

"But really, why did Isaac Adler call the three of us here?"

Eventually, as the estate began to come into view in the distance, Gia Lestrade suddenly inquired with a look of puzzlement on her face.

"What else could it be? Probably some ridiculous mystery again."

"... This time it's different."

"Huh?"

Watson, sighing while responding to Lestrade, couldn’t help but turn her head towards Holmes when she heard what the genius detective had muttered.

"It feels like he's set on something this time. Something very important."

Charlotte's complexion had become even grimmer than when she was on the train.

"You've seen it too. This area is surrounded by vast and treacherous wastelands as far as the eyes can see. Just one wrong step could land you in a marshland, leading you to an unfortunate end.”

"So..."

"If a murder were to occur, it would certainly be quite the spectacle."

Charlotte murmured with a cynical tone, and silence fell once again between the trio.

“Besides, there’s something else that’s been bothering me.”

"What, what is it...?"

"Before coming here, I did a little preliminary research and found a very interesting legend."

Amid that silence, Charlotte muttered in a low voice as she gazed intently at the entrance of the estate they had just reached.

"The curse of the Baskerville family, related to the hound of hell."

At the very moment those words were spoken, the door of the estate began to slowly open.

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

The three women, tense with the ominous atmosphere exuded by the path ahead, widened their eyes upon seeing someone waiting for them at the door.

"Please, come in."

A grim-looking woman in a butler uniform bowed quietly in greeting.

"Excuse me, but where is Isaac Adler?"

Gia Lestrade, cautiously eyeing the stranger, quietly asked a question while stepping forward, leaving Charlotte and Watson behind.

"We've come to see him."

- Swish...

In response to her firm voice, the female butler quietly raised her head and reached into her pocket.

"Please, take this."

"... Ah, yes."

Lestrade watched her action with a sharp glare, her hand also reaching into her pocket. However, upon realizing that the female butler was only pulling out a note to hand it over to her, she relaxed, accepted the note, and began reading its contents.

"......."

However, that was only for a moment as her expression turned ashen once she read the contents of the note.

"What's the matter?"

"Just see for yourself."

Charlotte and Watson, looking puzzled behind her, began to read the note handed to them by Lestrade with a blank stare.

Sorry. There was no mystery to solve.

I just wanted to show you guys my vacation home.

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

And then there was a brief silence…

What? You're not mad?

I knew it. You must like me after all.

"Would you like to come inside?"

After glancing at the absurd message left behind by Adler, complete with a cute doodle of him in his vampire form blushing and winking like a shameless hoodlum, the two women’s complexion had turned as ashen as Lestrade’s.

.

.

.

.

.

Meanwhile, at that moment, in the endlessly sprawling wasteland…

"The three women have arrived."

"Is that so?"

Adler, crossing the dangerous area that even the locals hesitated to enter, replied with a smile at the report from his subordinate.

"Then, let them in first."

- Grrrrrrr.....

In the distance, a being(?) with chilling eyes – that seemed to have come from the very depths of hell – and rough breathing approached Adler with slow steps, drooling with primal hunger.

***

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