No Place Like Holmes by Jason Lethcoe

Author:Jason Lethcoe [Lethcoe, Jason]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: ebook, book
Publisher: Thomas Nelson Inc.
Published: 2011-05-09T14:00:00+00:00

17

JACKSON REPORTS

Deep beneath the River Thames there was indeed a network of tunnels. The most famous one was built by a man named Marc Brunel in 1843 and ran from Rotherhithe to Wapping. However, there were other secret passages that ran like rabbit warrens beneath the city. The type of people who used these tunnels were mostly disreputable folk who had secrets to hide or stolen goods to smuggle.

But besides the tunnels, there was something even darker and more secret below the river. Underground compounds flourished and had been occupied by some of the most fearsome criminal lords in England over the course of history. The most famous of these masterminds was Professor James Moriarty. Like that of a great spider, his web of criminal activity was woven throughout all of London and extended to remote parts of Europe and even as far as America.

But the Professor needed help—trusted assistants who could carry out his plans. And none was more trusted than his cousin Nigel. Nigel Moriarity sat, hands folded across his lap, staring at a blazing fire. His headquarters, an opulent underground bunker, was richly decorated.

Deep walnut paneling with gold filigree, rich leather couches, and expensive oil paintings were tastefully positioned around his gigantic office. If his cousin were the Napoleon of Crime, then Nigel was his La Salle. He was the commander of the Underworld, the king of thieves, and as he sat, pondering the great task to which he had been trusted, he smiled.

Staring into the flames, he saw the future of London. It burned as the logs burned; the embers were the screams of thousands that floated upon the night air.

Once the bomb is in place, my cousin’s greatest strategic move will be accomplished. And then, finally, we’ll checkmate our most troublesome enemy.

Nigel’s thoughts were interrupted by a light knock at his door. A man dressed all in black opened the door and slipped into the room. It was the same shadow that had been following Griffin Sharpe a few hours earlier.

“Sorry to disturb you, sir,” the hulking man said.

“Not at all, Jackson. What have you discovered?” Nigel asked.

The man removed his large-brimmed hat and held it nervously in his hands. His face was a mess of scars, pitted and lined from countless fights.

“The boy, sir. The one from America.”

“Go on.”

“He’s a clever one, he is. He and that Snodgrass bloke are onto us. They plan on diving into the Thames tomorrow to see if they can locate Dent.”

Nigel Moriarity didn’t say anything for a long moment. So long, in fact, that Jackson began to get nervous and wondered if he should leave. Like a dog that knew its master well, Jackson was smart enough to know that bad news was often accompanied by terrible outbursts.

But this time there were no tantrums. Instead, Nigel turned and gave Jackson a cold smile.

“Then we shall be ready to greet them when they arrive. Notify the frogmen.”

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