Imperial College London.
A deserted classroom with no mobile phone signal (mobile phones didn't exist back then). No one ever passed by—everyone was in the cafeteria. Ever since the three of them first met here, this place had become Russell's and Mary's new lunchtime spot. One had to admit—it was truly a wonderful location.
The sun shone brightly, the air was fresh and crisp, and there was no one to disturb them.
Russell sat in the brightest seat at the very back, nibbling a sandwich he had bought from the school cafeteria. Mary sat right beside him, also enjoying the pleasant sunlight.
"By the way," Mary suddenly said, breaking the silence. "I heard from my friends that entry to Buckingham Palace is extremely restricted these days."
"Huh?" Russell raised an eyebrow and looked at her. "How strict are we talking?"
"Very. Anyone who wants to enter must register in advance, undergo inspections including a body search, and be accompanied by security guards at all times while inside the palace." Mary continued, "Her Majesty the Queen seems furious about the Moriarty incident."
"No way." Russell shrugged. "But do they really need to go this far?"
Mary turned to him and asked, "Is this really necessary?"
She already knew the answer. "Just as you said yesterday, Moriarty clearly handed the Snuff box over to the newspaper, and the newspaper returned it to Buckingham Palace."
"So why was Buckingham Palace tightening security and strictly limiting visitors?"
She tilted her head, feigning ignorance. "It's impossible for Moriarty to come back, right?"
"Well… speaking of which," Russell said, pausing deliberately, "I need to revisit that speculation you mentioned yesterday."
"Hm?" Mary raised one eyebrow, suppressing a laugh, her eyes full of curiosity as she glanced around. "Didn't you say the Snuff box might just be a decoy?"
"Hmm… it looks like that might actually be true." Mary pretended to recall. "What happened? Did it turn out to be real?"
Russell shrugged and said nothing, but his silence spoke volumes.
"Real?" Mary's eyes widened in genuine surprise. "How did you find out?"
"Charlotte," Russell said. "Moriarty stealing the Snuff box was just an excuse. What he actually stole was Princess Louise's favorite music box."
He left a notice at Buckingham Palace saying he would visit again this Sunday to return the item to the princess in person.
"Thanks to him, Charlotte and I now have to go to Buckingham Palace this Sunday to help catch the thief."
Hearing this, Mary looked a little stunned. This time the surprise on her face seemed completely genuine. "You're going too?"
"Charlotte already gave me the name. It wouldn't look good if I didn't go," Russell replied.
Going to Buckingham Palace to catch a thief? And who exactly was returning the goods?
Mary wanted to ask, but she couldn't. Still, this man had achieved six consecutive victories at Lloyds Bank—he probably had more tricks up his sleeve. Perhaps the group Billson brought hadn't even forced him to use half his strength.
Thinking this, Mary's gaze toward Russell grew even more curious. What an interesting person.
"But why would he steal the princess's music box?" Mary asked, staring intently at Russell. "When you look around Buckingham Palace, don't you think there are far more valuable things than that music box? Moreover, why target the princess instead of the king or queen?"
"Who knows? You'd have to ask Moriarty himself," Russell said, shaking his head.
"That's why I asked you," Mary replied with a mischievous smile.
"Huh?" Russell looked surprised. "What do you mean?"
"Don't you know Mr. Moriarty quite well?" Mary asked.
"Huh?" Russell looked surprised again. "Why would you think I knew something like that?"
"But didn't he hand you the love letter Timothy wrote on the tram?" Mary blinked. Her blue eyes were filled with innocent curiosity.
"That was just a one-time, very brief encounter. We weren't actually close," Russell said slowly, taking a sip of coffee with an unchanged expression. "I buy newspapers from the vendor on Baker Street every day, but that doesn't mean I know him well. In fact, I don't even know his real name."
"But you never said it was only once, did you?" Mary leaned forward slightly, drawing closer to Russell. A gentle breeze carrying the faint scent of white tea followed her. "Hasn't he often sent you to deliver mail to Fleet Street?"
"It's not like he's never had other people deliver messages for him. That doesn't prove anything."
"Hm?" Mary straightened and slowly shifted her gaze away. "That's a reasonable point."
She nodded lightly, accepting the explanation.
"Alright, let's drop that topic. How's your preparation for the quiz in a few days going?"
"Don't worry, I'll definitely pass."
"Huh?" The girl frowned in dissatisfaction. "I spent the whole afternoon tutoring you, and all you can say is that you'll pass for sure?"
"Don't say such malicious things," Russell shrugged. "Some people are desperately fighting just to survive."
"Giving your all and giving up midway are two completely different things." Seeing Russell's confident attitude, she could only sigh in the end.
"Never mind," she waved her hand. "Just don't come looking for me if you have to retake the exam."
"Don't worry, that definitely won't happen." Russell lightly patted his chest and spoke firmly. After a short pause, as if remembering something, he changed the subject. "By the way, how are things between your father and Lloyds Bank?"
"Huh?" Mary looked a little surprised, clearly not expecting him to bring this up. "Everything's been resolved," she said calmly.
Lloyds Bank agreed to nearly all of her father's demands, including a new loan agreement. In return, her father temporarily withdrew the lawsuit against them and stopped the Guardian from publishing further reports on the matter.
"What about The Times?" Russell pressed.
"They're in even worse shape," Mary said with a proud smile. "Not only have their sales plummeted, but the Guardian is relentlessly criticizing them too. It'll be hard for them to recover anytime soon." "The editor-in-chief, Henry, even came to visit yesterday, hoping my father would mediate. I don't know how it will turn out."
"Your family has truly become the ultimate winner in all this."
"I think so too."
Mary nodded vaguely and smiled at Russell. "All of this is thanks to someone, right?"
"You mean Moriarty?"
"Yes," Mary replied ambiguously, meeting Russell's gaze. "How do you think I should thank him?"
"Send him a silk banner and fifty pounds."
…