Music Welcome to Snewscast, a podcast designed to help you fall asleep. Find us at Snewscast.com and if you enjoy our show, please share us with a friend. This episode is brought to you by Mathematical Celebrities. Tonight, we'll read the opening to the final problem written by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. The second half will air next week. It is one of 12 stories in the cycle collected as the memoirs of Sherlock Holmes. As with all of our Sherlock series, this story contains some darker elements and themes that may not be appropriate for all listeners. The story Set in 1891 introduces introduces the criminal mastermind Professor Moriardi. It was intended to be the final home story. Conan Doyle felt the stories were distracting him from more serious literary efforts, and that this was the only way of getting his career back on track. I must save my mind for better things," he wrote to his mother.

Even if it means I must bury my pocketbook with him.

Conan Doyle later ranked the final problem fourth on his personal list of the 12 best home stories. Let's get cozy. Close your eyes. Relax your body into the softness of your bed.

Now, take a few deep breaths. It is with a heavy heart that I take up my pen to write these the last words in which I shall ever record the singular gifts by which my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, was distinguished. In an incoherent, and, as I deeply feel, an entirely inadequate fashion, I have endeavored to give some account of my strange experiences in his company from the chance which first brought us together at the period of the study in Scarlet, up to the time of his interference in the matter of the naval treaty, an interference which had the unquestionable effect of preventing a serious international complication. It was my intention to have stopped there, and to have said nothing of that event which has created a void in my life which the lapse of two years has done little to fill. My hand has been forced, however, by the recent letters in which Colonel James Moriarty defends the memory of his brother, and I have no choice, but to lay the facts before the public exactly as they occurred. I alone know the absolute truth of the matter, and I am satisfied that the time has come when no good purpose is to be served by its suppression. As far as I know, there have been only three accounts in the public press. That in the journal, on May 6, 1891, the ruders dispatch in the English papers on May 7th, and finally the recent letter to which I have alluded, of these the first and second, were extremely condensed. While the last is, as I shall now show, an absolute perversion of the facts, it lies with me to tell for the first time what really took place between Professor Mori Arty and Mr. Sherlock Holmes. It may be remembered that after my marriage and my subsequent start in private practice, the very intimate relations which had existed between homes and myself became to somewhat extent, modified. He still came to me from time to time when he desired a companion in his investigation, but these occasions grew more and more seldom. Until I find that in the year 1890, there were only three cases of which I retain any record. During the winter of that year and the early spring of 1891, I saw in the papers that he had been engaged by the French government upon a matter of supreme importance. And I received two notes from Holmes, dated from Narbonne and from Neymne, from which I gathered that his state in France was likely to be a long one. It was with some surprise, therefore, that I saw him walk into my consulting room upon the evening of the 24th of. It struck me that he was looking even paler and thinner than usual. Yes, I have been using myself up rather too freely. He remarked, in answer to my look rather than to my words. I have been a little pressed of late. Have you any objection to my closing your shutters? The only light in the room came from the lamp upon the table at which I had been reading. Holmes edged his way around the walls and flinging the shutters together. He bolted them securely. You are afraid of something, I asked. Well, I am of what? Of air guns. My dear homes, what do you mean? I think that you know me well enough Watson to understand that I am by no means a nervous man. At the same time, it is stupidity rather than courage to refuse to recognize danger when it is close upon you. Might I trouble you for a match? He drew in the smoke of his cigarette as if the soothing influence was grateful to him. I must apologize for calling so late, said he, and I must further beg you to be so unconventional as to allow me to leave your house presently by scrambling over your back garden wall. But what does it all mean?" I asked. He held out his hand, and I saw in the light of

the lamp that two of his knuckles were battered. It is not an airy nothing, you see, said he, smiling.

On the contrary, it is solid enough for a man to break his hand over. His Mrs. Watson in, she is a way of on visit. Indeed, you are alone. Quite. Then it makes it the easier for me to propose that you should come away with me for a week to the continent. Where? Oh, anywhere. It's all the same to me. There was something very strange in all this. It was not Holmes's nature to take an endless holiday holiday, and something about his pale, mourned face told me that his nerves were at their highest tension. He saw the question in my eyes, and putting his fingertips together, and his elbows upon his knees, he explained the situation. He had probably never heard of Professor Moriarty, said he. Never? I. There's the genius and the wonder of the thing he cried. The man pervades London. And no one has heard of him. what puts him on a pinnacle in the records of crime I tell you Watson, in all seriousness, that if I could beat that man, if I could free society of him, I should feel that my own career had reached its summit, and I should be prepared to turn to some more placid line in life. Between ourselves, the recent cases in which I have been of assistance to the royal family of Scandinavia and to the French Republic have left me in such a position that I could continue to live in the quiet fashion, which is most congenial to me, and to concentrate my attention upon my chemical researches. But I could not rest Watson, and could not sit quiet in my chair if I thought that such a man as Professor Moriarty were walking the streets of London unchallenged. What has he done then? His career has been an extraordinary one.

He is a man of good birth and excellent education, endowed by nature with a phenomenal mathematical faculty. At the age of 21, he wrote a treatise upon the binomial theorem which has had a European and Vogue. On the strength of it, he won the mathematical chair at one of our smaller universities and had, to all appearances, a most brilliant career before him. But the man had her redditary tendencies of the most diabolical kind. A criminal strain ran in his blood which, instead of being modified, was increased and rendered infinitely more dangerous by his extraordinary mental powers. Dark rumors gathered around him in the university town and eventually he was compelled to resign his chair and to come down to London, where he set up as an army coach. So much is known to the world. But what I am telling you now is what I have myself discovered. As you are aware Watson, there is no one who knows the higher criminal world of London. So well as I do. For years past, I have continually been conscious of some power behind the malefactor, some deep organizing power which ever stands in the way of the law and throws its shield over the wrong doer. Again and again in cases of the most varying sorts, I have felt the presence of this force, and I have deduced its action in many of those undiscovered crimes, in which I have not been personally consulted. For years I have endeavored to break through the veil, which shrouded it, and at last the time came when I seized my threat and followed it until it led me after a thousand cunning windings to ex-professor Moriarty of mathematical celebrity. He is the Napoleon of crime Watson. He is a genius, a philosopher, an abstract thinker. He has a brain of the first order. He sits motionless, like a spider in the center of its web. But that web has a thousand radiations, and he knows well every quiver of each of them. He does little himself, he only plans, but his agents are numerous and splendidly organized.

Is there a crime to be done, a paper to be abstracted? We will say, a house to be rifled, a man to be removed? The word is passed to the professor. The matter is organized and carried out. The agent may be caught,

in that case money is found for his bail or his defense, but the central power which he uses the agent is never caught. Never so much as suspected. This was the organization which I deduced Wattson and which I devoted my whole energy to exposing and breaking up. But the professor was fenced round with safeguards so cunningly devised that, do what I would, it seemed impossible to get evidence which would convict in a court of law. You know my powers, my dear Watson, and yet at the end of three months, I was forced the space-eater kicked on. You know my powers, my dear Watson, and yet at the end of three months, I was forced to confess that I had at last met an antagonist who was my intellectual equal. My dismay at his crimes was lost in my admiration at his skill, but at last he made a trip, only a little, a little trip, but it was more than he could afford when I was so close upon him. I had my chance, and starting from that point I have woven my net round him until now it is all ready to close. In three days, that is to say, on Monday next, matters will be ripe, and the Professor, with all the principal members of his gang, in the hands of the police. Then we'll come the greatest criminal trial of the century, the clearing up of over 40 mysteries. But if we move at all prematurely, you understand, they may slip out of our hands even at the last moment. Now, if I could have done this without the knowledge of Professor Moriarty, all would have been well. But he was too wily for that. He saw every step which I took to draw my toils around him. Again and again he strove to break away. But I, as often headed him off, I tell you my friend, that if a detailed account of that silent contest could be written, it would take its place as the most brilliant bit of thrust and periwork in the history of detection. Never have I risen to such a height, and never have I been so hard pressed by an opponent. He cut deep, and yet I just undercut him. This morning, the last steps were taken, and three days only were wanted to complete the business. I was sitting in my room, thinking the matter over, when the door opened, and Professor Moriarty stood before me. My nerves are fairly proof Watson, but I must confess to a start when I saw the very man who had been so much in my thoughts standing there on my threshold. His appearance was quite familiar to me. He is extremely tall and thin. His forehead domes out in a white curve, and his two eyes are deeply sunken in this head. He is clean-shaven, pale, and a set of looking, retaining something of the professor in his features. His shoulders are rounded, from much study, and his face protrudes forward, and is forever slowly oscillating from side to side in a curiously reptilian fashion. He appeared at me with great curiosity in his pukardalis. New have less frontal development than I should have expected," said he, at last. It is a dangerous habit to finger-loaded firearms in the pocket of one's dressing gown. The fact is that upon his entrance I had instantly recognized the extreme personal danger in which I lay. The only conceivable escape for him lay in silencing my tongue. In an instant I had slipped the revolver from the drawer into my pocket and was covering him through the cloth. At his remark I drew the weapon out and laid it cocked upon the table. He still smiled and blinked, but there was something about his eyes which made me feel very glad that I had it there. He evidently don't know me," said he. "'On the contrary,' I answered. I think it is fairly evident that I do. Pray, take a chair. I can spare you five minutes if you have anything to say. "'All that I have to say has already crossed your mind," said he. Then possibly my answer has crossed yours. I replied. You stand fast. Absolutely. He clapped his hand into his pocket and I raised the pistol from the table, but he merely drew out a memorandum book in which he had scribbled some dates. You crossed my path on the 4th of January," said he. On the 23rd, you encumoted me. By the middle of February, I was seriously inconvenienced by you. you. At the end of March I was absolutely hampered

in my plans. And now, at the close of April, I find myself placed in such a position through your continual persecution that I am in positive danger of losing my liberty. The situation is becoming an impossible one.

Have you any suggestion to make?

I ask. using my liberty, the situation is becoming an impossible one.

"'Have you any suggestion to make?' I asked. "'You must drop it, Mr. Holmes,' said he, swaying his face about. You really must, you know.' Monday said said he, I am quite sure that a man of your intelligence will see that there can be but one outcome to this affair. It is necessary that you should withdraw. You have worked things in such a fashion that we have only one resource left. It has been an intellectual treat to me to see the way in which you have grappled with this affair, and I say, unaffectedly, that it would be a grief to me to be forced to take any extreme measure. You smile, sir, but I assure you that it really would. Danger is part of my trade, I remarked. That is not danger," said he. It is inevitable destruction. You stand in the way not merely of an individual, but of a mighty organization, the full extent of which you, with all your cleverness, have been unable to realize. You must stand clear Mr. Holmes, or be trot in underfoot. I am afraid," said I, rising, that in the pleasure of this conversation I am neglecting business of importance which awaits me elsewhere. He rose also and looked at me in silence, shaking his head sadly. Well, well, said he, at last, it seems a pity. But I have done what I could. I know every move of your game, you can do nothing before Monday. It has been a duel between you and me, Mr. Holmes. You hope to place me in the dock. I tell you that I will

never stand in the dock. You hope to beat me. I tell you that you will never beat me. If you are clever enough to bring me destruction, rest assured that I shall do as much to you. You have made me several compliments, Mr. Moriarty, said I. Let me pay you one in return, when I say that if I were assured of the former eventuality I would in the interests of the public, cheerfully accept the latter. I can promise you the one but not the other, he snarled, and so turned, his rounded back upon me, and went peering and blinking out of the room. That was my singular interview with Professor Moriarty.

I confess that it left an unpleasant effect upon my mind. His soft, precise fashion of speech leaves a conviction of sincerity, which a mere bully could not produce. Of course you will say, why not take police precautions against him? The reason is that I am well convinced that it is from his agents the blow will fall. I have the best proofs that it would be so. You have already encountered them? My dear Watson, Professor Moriarty is not a man who lets the grass grow under his feet. I went out about midday to transact some business in Oxford Street, as I passed the corner which leads from Benning Street onto Welpec Street, crossing a two-horse van furiously driven, whizzed round and was on me like a flash. I sprang for the footpath and saved myself by the fraction of a second. The van dashed round by Marla bin Lane and was gone in an instant. I kept the pavement after that Watson, but as I walked down to Verstreet, a brick came down from the roof of one of the houses and was shattered to fragments at my feet. I called the police and had the place examined. There were sleets and bricks piled up on the roof, preparatory to some repairs, and they would have me believe that the wind had toppled over one of these. Of course I knew better, but I could prove nothing. I took a cab after that and reached my brother's rooms in Paul Mall where I spent the day. Now I have come round to you, and on my way I was set upon by a rough with a pludgeon. I knocked him down in the police having a custody, but I can tell you, with the most absolute confidence that no possible connection will ever be traced between the gentleman upon whose front teeth I have barked my knuckles, and the retiring mathematical coach, who is, I dare say, working out problems upon a blackboard ten miles away. You will not wonder, Watson, that my first act on entering your rooms was to close your shutters, and that I have been compelled to ask your permission to leave the house by some less conspicuous exit than the front door. I had often admired my friend's courage, but never more than now, as he sat quietly checking off a series of incidents which must have combined to make up the day. You will spend the night here? I said? No, my friend. You might find me a dangerous guest. I have my plans laid, and all will be well. Matters have gone so far now that they can move without my help as far as the arrest goes, though my presence is necessary for a conviction. It is obvious, therefore, that I cannot do better than get away for the few days which remain before the police are at liberty to act. It would be a great pleasure to me therefore if you could come on to the continent with me. The practice is quiet, said I, and I have an accommodating neighbor, and I should be glad to come. And to start tomorrow morning, if necessary, oh yes, it is most necessary. The knees are your instructions, and I beg, my dear Watson, that you will obey them to the letter, for you are now playing a double-handed game with me against the cleverest rogue and the most powerful syndicate of criminals in Europe. Now listen, you will dispatch whatever luggage you intend to take by a trusty messenger unaddressed to Victoria tonight. In the morning you will send for handsome, desiring your man to take neither the first nor the second which may present itself. Into this handsome you will jump, and you will drive to the strand end of the loathor arcade, the address to to the cabin upon the slip of paper, with a request that he will not throw it away. Have your fare ready, and the instant that your cab stops, dash through the arcade, timing yourself to reach the other side at a quarter past nine. You'll find a small carriage waiting close to the curb, driven by a fellow with a heavy black coat tipped at the collar with red. Into this you will step, and you will reach Victoria in time for the continental express. Where shall I meet you at the station? The second The-class carriage from the front will be reserved for us. The carriages are rendezvous then. Yes, it was in vain that I asked Holmes to remain for the evening. It was evident to me that he thought he might bring trouble to the roof he was under, and that that was the motive which impelled him to go. With a few hurried words as to our plans for the morrow, he rose and came out with me into the garden, clambering over the wall which leads into Mortimer Street, and immediately whistling for a handsome in which I heard him drive away. In the morning, I obeyed Holmes' injunctions to the letter. A handsome was procured with such precaution, as would prevent its being one which was placed ready for us, and I drove immediately after breakfast to the loathor arcade, through which I hurried at the top of my speed. A carriage was waiting with a very massive driver, wrapped in a dark cloak, who, the instant that I had stepped in, whipped up the horse and rattled off to Victoria's station. On my alighting, he turned the carriage and dashed away again without so much as a look in my direction. So far I had gone admirably. My luggage was waiting for me, and I had no difficulty in finding the carriage which Holmes had indicated, the less so as it was the only one in the train, which was marked engaged. My only source of concern now was the non-appearance of homes. The station clock marked only seven minutes from the time when we were due to start. In vain, I searched among the groups of travelers and leave takers for the light figure of my friend. There was no sign of him. I spent a few minutes in assisting a venerable Italian priest who was endeavouring to make a porter understand in his broken English that his luggage must be booked through to Paris. Then having taken another look round, I returned to my carriage, where I found that the porter, in spite of the ticket, had given me my decrepit Italian friend as a traveling companion. It was useless for me to explain to him that his presence was an intrusion for my Italian was even more limited than his English.

So I shrugged my shoulders resinantly and continued to look out for my friend. A chill had come over me, as I thought that his absence might mean that some blow had fallen during the night. the doors had all been shut, and the whistle-blown, when, my dear Watson, said a voice, you have not even condescended to say good morning. I turned an uncontrollable astonishment. the aged ecclesiastic had turned his face toward me.

For an instant their wrinkles were smoothed away. The nose drew away from the chin. The lower lips ceased to protrude and the mouth mumble. The dull eyes regained their fire. The drooping figure expanded, the next, the whole frame collapsed

again, and Holmes had gone as quickly as he had come. Good heavens, I cried, how you startled me.

Every precaution is still necessary, he whispered.

I have reason to think that they are hot upon our trail. Ah, there is more already himself. The train had already begun to move, as Holmes spoke, glancing back. I saw a tall man pushing his way, furiously through the crowd, and waving his hand as if he desired to have the train stopped. It was too late, however, for we were rapidly gathering momentum, and an instant later had shot clear of the station. With all our precautions, you see that we have cut it rather fine, said Holmes, laughing. He rose, and throwing off the black casak and hat which had formed his disguise, he packed them away in a handbag. Have you seen the morning paper Watson? No. You haven't seen about Baker Street then? Baker Street? They said fire to our rooms last night. No great harm was done. Good heavens homes. This is intolerable. They must have lost my track completely after their bludgeon man was arrested. Otherwise they could not have imagined that I had returned to my rooms. They have evidently taken the precaution of watching you, however, and that is what has brought more already to Victoria. You could not have made any slip in coming. I did it exactly as you advised. Did you find your carriage? Yes, it was waiting. Did you recognize your coachman? No. It was my brother, my craft. It is an advantage to get about in such a case without taking a mercenary into your confidence, but we must plan what we are to do about Moriarty now. As this is an express, and as the boat runs in connection with it, I should think that we have shaken him off very effectively. My dear Watson, you evidently did not realize my meaning when I said that this man may be taken as being quite on the same intellectual plane as myself. You do not imagine that if I were the pursuer, I should allow myself to be baffled by so slight in obstacle. Why then should you think so mainly of him? What will he do? What should I do? What would you do then? Engage is special. But it must be late. By no means. This strain stops at Canterbury, and there is always at least a quarter of an hour's delay up the boat. He will catch us there. One would think that we were the criminals. Let us have him arrested on his arrival. would be to ruin the work of three months. We should get the big fish, but the smaller fish would dart right and left out of the net. On Monday we should have them all. No, an arrest is inadmissible.

What then?

We shall get out of Canterbury.

...