Free Chronicles of the Lost Years (The Sherlock Holmes Series) by Tracy Cooper-Posey Page A

said. “Or you will die, too.” He stepped in front of her and faced Moriarty as he approached.
    Moriarty halted a few paces from them and glanced at Elizabeth before returning his steady gaze upon Holmes. “Foolish. You should have got her out of the way, Holmes.” The words were innocent enough, but Elizabeth realized with a jolt that her death sentence had been pronounced. The grim surety behind the casual verdict made her shudder.
    Holmes remained silent, seemingly relaxed, yet Elizabeth could sense his whole body was tense and waiting.
    Elizabeth expected Moriarty to continue, to give some twisted justification for what he was intending to do, but the man fell silent and simply watched Holmes. There was no need to declare himself, she perceived, for everything that could be said had already been spoken. The entire year’s convoluted strategies and complicated actions led to this moment.
    Suddenly Moriarty sprang and threw himself at Holmes. They grappled and Moriarty’s weight carried them back toward the edge of the path. Elizabeth flattened herself against the cliff face, stifling a gasp as Moriarty leapt past her.
    On the very brink of the path Holmes and Moriarty struggled against each other, as Elizabeth watched, frightened. It did not occur to her that the path was now clear and she could make her escape. She was held in place by the power of lethal intentions, waiting for the fatal outcome. She was so close she could reach out and touch them, but knew it would be a purposeless attempt. Yet her helplessness was diluted by the malignance she was watching.
    The test of wills and power came to a sudden end, for Moriarty found a superior grip on his opponent. With a rasping cry of glee he prepared to throw Holmes over the ledge but on the very verge of losing his balance, Holmes twisted and broke free, throwing himself aside.
    Moriarty’s cry changed to a scream of rage as he continued to fall without his prey. Holmes rested on the lip of the cliff, watching Moriarty’s descent.
    Elizabeth moved shakily to his side and looked down. She saw Moriarty’s body strike some rocks and bounce aside, still falling. Then the swirling, floating spray closed over the body and Moriarty was gone.
    Elizabeth closed her eyes, her body shaking with giddy relief.
    Holmes stood, moving slowly. Then he lowered himself gingerly to sit upon a broad rock close by. He delved into his pockets and pulled out a pencil stub and his note book and opened it.
    Elizabeth stared at him. “What in the world are you doing?” she asked, not a little bewildered.
    Holmes was writing rapidly and without hesitation. “I am about to die,” he said.
    Elizabeth felt her jaw drop. “You are?”
    “Moriarty was the leader of a very clever gang of criminals. At least three of his lieutenants are almost as ingenious as he and all of them have as much reason to wish me dead as Moriarty.”
    Elizabeth nodded. “You want them to think you dead so they will not come after you,” she surmised.
    “Yes and not only they. There are other enemies, not connected with Moriarty. It would suit my purposes if they fell to the same erroneous conclusion. If they are truly convinced that I am dead, they will grow lax and careless. They will make mistakes and I can then destroy them.”
    Elizabeth considered the plan. “I am to die, too?” she asked.
    Holmes glanced up from his page. “I am afraid so. You heard Moriarty—he was going to deal with you as he tried to deal with me. If you walked out of this canyon and claimed that Moriarty had killed me and let you live to tell the tale, his men would know without a doubt that it was a bluff.” He looked back down at his page. “Besides, I do not trust your ability to carry the bluff convincingly. You would be cross-examined by some of the shrewdest minds in England and nothing but the truth would be allowed by them.”
    “I see,” Elizabeth said. “How are we to die?”
    “This note to Watson should take