Hearing Russell's words, Charlotte's hand holding the teacup paused slightly, and then she looked up at him.
She narrowed her eyes and sized Russell up, and only after a while did she slowly withdraw her gaze, taking a sip of tea.
"Then let's make it Sunday."
Charlotte said, her tone bland, betraying no discernible emotion.
Hearing this, Russell breathed a sigh of relief, then picked up his teacup and took a sip.
"By the way," Charlotte suddenly thought of something, set down the teacup in her hand, and said instead, "What does Mary make of the Moriarty matter?"
"She thinks Moriarty is innocent," Russell said.
Hearing this, Charlotte raised an eyebrow. "You told her the truth?"
"I did," Russell admitted openly, "but that was after she had given her own opinion."
"Her opinion?"
"About the same as your initial starting point," Russell said.
"Moriarty had no need to kill—for him, that would be the most failed approach of all.
Even if he'd slipped up and been discovered, even in the midst of a quarrel, there'd be absolutely no need to resort to murder.
He managed to escape from you and Mycroft—would he really be unable to handle a single smuggler?"
Hearing this, Charlotte frowned, inexplicably a little displeased.
Although she couldn't find any grounds to refute it, she was just so annoyed.
"Well, she didn't disappoint me."
In the end, she merely nodded, her tone flat.
It was like a teacher seeing her most satisfactory student get right a problem that the student should have gotten right.
No praise—just a sense that this was how it ought to be.
"What else did she say?" Charlotte continued.
"Nothing much. She just said she could ask someone at The Guardian to help write an article clearing Moriarty's name."
Russell said, "That's all. Nothing more."
"Are you sure there's nothing more?" Charlotte looked at Russell.
"Really, no." Russell nodded firmly, then asked, somewhat puzzled, "Why have you suddenly become so concerned about her?"
"Then what are you doing on Saturday?" Charlotte answered with a question instead.
"Saturday?" Russell was taken aback for a moment.
He instinctively wanted to say he hadn't planned to do anything on Saturday, but when his eyes met Charlotte's, the words on the tip of his tongue were forced right back down.
"Saturday—I'm going to the Phedon Tea Room with Mary."
Russell answered truthfully.
"Why?" Charlotte pressed. "What's the reason?"
"Going out for fun is just going out for fun—what other reason could there be?" Russell said.
Charlotte looked at him without a word, and just being watched by her, Russell felt that suppressed anger of hers seemed to be melting through some kind of restraint, bit by bit.
In the end, he still lost the standoff. "All right, all right," Russell sighed, raising both hands in a gesture of surrender.
"She helped that—helped clear Moriarty's name, so I'm treating her to afternoon tea as a thank-you."
"Thank goodness, we've finally gotten to the point." Charlotte sat up straight, tossed the file in her hand aside, and then stared fixedly at Russell.
"Why is it you thanking her?" Charlotte asked. "She helped clear Moriarty's name—what does that have to do with you? Why can you represent Moriarty?"
"Uh... because he's had me earn no small amount of side money on Fleet Street," Russell said.
"Take a man's money, and your hands are tied... you know how it is."
"But didn't you say you don't care about the Moriarty business at all?"
Charlotte continued, "You said it just this morning—that you don't care whether he actually committed the crime, nor whether he's been wronged.
If you don't care, then when Mary says she'll ask The Guardian to help put out an article clearing Moriarty's name, why would you treat her to afternoon tea at the Phedon Tea Room?"
Russell was momentarily at a loss for words.
"I don't like people being clever at my expense, Watson," Charlotte said.
"Especially when, while being so clever, they also treat me like a fool."
"I didn't——"
"You did." Charlotte cut Russell off.
"And not just you—you and Mycroft, both of you."
Charlotte's voice was very calm, but beneath that calm was a scalding fury held in check, like the moment before a volcano erupts.
"I don't understand why—why every single one of you is so concerned about that thief.
Mycroft, because Moriarty delivered him intelligence; you, because Moriarty paid your tuition. And Mary—what's her reason?"
As she spoke, she drew closer to Russell, and Russell was forced to retreat, step by step.
"You always think you put on such a good act, that you can fool everyone—just like this morning, when you told me you didn't care about Moriarty in the slightest.
You clearly care to death, but when I asked you, you lied to me—and then turned around and poured out your heart to Mary?"
She looked at Russell expressionlessly, yet those gray-blue eyes were filled with confusion and anger, and hurt.
"Why? Would admitting this to me have some terribly serious consequence?
Are you worried I'll laugh at you—or that... that I'll have some other reaction?"
[Malice Points from Charlotte Holmes, +150]
"Well? Your answer?"
"Sorry," Russell said, but Charlotte's expression did not improve in the least.
"I don't want to hear an apology. I want an answer."
Russell was silent for a moment.
Finally, he drew in a deep breath.
The sound of Malice Points being deducted rang crisply in his mind, and at the same time, in that very instant, Russell's whole bearing seemed to become somewhat different.
[Malice Points deducted (5900), attribute point deducted (1), skill unlocked and upgraded—Performance A]
[Current Malice Points balance: 2200]
"...You're right."
Russell nodded and said in a low voice, his tone carrying a hint of relief.
"The relationship between me and Moriarty really is a bit deeper than you imagine."
Hearing this, the expression on Charlotte's face finally eased.
"At Buckingham Palace—were you the one working in concert with him?"
She put forward her conjecture.
"...Mm." Russell nodded.
"Well, more honest than Mycroft, at least."
Charlotte sat back down in her seat.
"So, what exactly is the relationship between you and Moriarty?"
"Actually, it's not a particularly complicated one," Russell said.
"Most of the time, I'm simply his messenger, nothing more."
"And the rest of the time?"
"The rest of the time—if you're referring to that Buckingham Palace affair... I suppose I was his inside man."
Russell sighed and sat down across from Charlotte.
"I understand him, and it's on the basis of that trust that I'm willing to help him."
"At first glance, your relationship with him is even thinner than Mycroft's with him."
Charlotte said disdainfully.
"A purely monetary transaction."
"For a common townsman with no status and no background, I have no reason to pass this money up.
Thanks to this money, I've been able to pay my tuition, to keep from falling behind on Mrs. Hudson's rent, and to have money to send back to the orphanage.
To him, I may be just a messenger.
But to me, he is my benefactor."
"..." Charlotte did not refute it.
The whole time he spoke, she had been observing Russell's expression, but Russell's reactions were simply too genuine.
So genuine that she couldn't read even the slightest trace of falseness from his micro-expressions.
There were only two possibilities that could explain this.
Either he possessed acting skills that could rival, even surpass, the top performer of the Royal Grand Theatre—skills able to deceive even himself.
Or everything he said was true.
Clearly, of these two possibilities, the latter was more probable than the former.
After a moment of silence, Charlotte finally spoke: "So, you do still care about the matter of the article, don't you?"
"A person can't be ungrateful, right?" Russell gave a small smile.
"You could've just said so from the start." Charlotte muttered, then stood up.
Russell's gaze moved along with her, watching Charlotte walk all the way over to the telephone.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Calling Lestrade, to have him organize the Hannigan case for me."
Charlotte said, then reached out and began dialing on the number dial.
At the very end, Russell seemed to hear her add, in an extremely soft voice:
"Anything she can do, I can do too."
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