Russell kept his head down on the desk, ears metaphorically pricked, every nerve on quiet alert.
After hearing Mary's question, Charlotte thought for a moment before responding:
"To satisfy that bottomless theatrical ego of his."
The same answer as always.
"But surely there's more to it than that?" Mary pressed.
From her vantage point, Charlotte already knew about the connection between Moriarty and Mycroft — which meant Charlotte's answer was nothing more than a layer of misdirection, a way of keeping her own cards close to her chest.
Steering the conversation toward Moriarty also helped preserve the secrecy of her own position.
Oh, she was playing three-dimensional chess here.
"Moriarty has pulled off significant jobs before, but this time he specifically wrote an announcement letter — started building anticipation a full week in advance." Mary held Charlotte's gaze steadily. "Is it really nothing more than a performance for its own sake?"
"I have no interest in what he intends to do," Charlotte replied, her tone unchanged.
"Rather than trying to decode the logic of a Phantom Thief who operates without any discernible logic, I prefer to spend what limited energy I have on things that actually matter."
Right. Exactly right.
Russell silently agreed from behind his folded arms.
"The Professor's trail has gone cold for now, though — so why not shift focus for the moment?" Mary said with a smile. "Besides, you're clearly not going to find the upcoming lectures very stimulating. Sometimes looking at a problem from a different angle turns up something unexpected."
No. Don't go down that road.
Russell frowned slightly.
What is your obsession with Moriarty, honestly.
At that, Charlotte considered for a moment, then said, unhurriedly: "Perhaps it's a diversion."
"A diversion?" Mary raised an eyebrow. "You mean Moriarty?"
"Mm." Charlotte gave a small nod.
"A diversion for whom?" the girl followed up, clearly now genuinely intrigued.
"Looking at Moriarty's previous operations, his targets have primarily clustered around wealthy collectors and businessmen." Charlotte didn't answer directly — she began with her reasoning instead.
"These individuals may live in upscale neighbourhoods with extensive security measures, but none of that presents any real obstacle to him. For a thief who has mastered lockpicking, rapid Stealth, disguise, and any number of other skills, those places are no different from an unguarded field. If he can walk into Lloyds Bank, what's a few Kensington mansions to him?"
"So if his targets were merely the usual suspects, there would be absolutely no reason to go to all this trouble," Mary continued, following Charlotte's thread.
"From which we might also infer that the announcement letter is simply a smokescreen — presenting an obvious target to draw attention, while the real target goes unnoticed?"
"Talking with you is so much easier than talking with certain other people." Charlotte gave a noncommittal murmur, and let her gaze slide sideways toward Russell.
Russell Watson did not move a muscle.
"So what do you think his real target is?" Mary continued in the same vein, and also glanced over at Russell.
"Which brings us back to where we started — trying to find meaning in the actions of a Phantom Thief who operates without any discernible logic is, itself, a meaningless exercise."
Charlotte said it plainly.
"The one thing we can say with certainty is that his real target is unquestionably significant — and very likely carries some symbolic weight as well."
"Such as the Queen's crown?"
"Tacky." Charlotte dismissed the suggestion without hesitation.
"Then what do you think it would be?" Mary poked Russell in the arm. "Stop pretending to be asleep."
At that, Russell reluctantly lifted his head, glanced at Charlotte, then at Mary.
Then, under both their stares, he said offhandedly:
"The Rosetta Stone at the British Museum?"
"Possible, but not heavyweight enough." Charlotte shook her head as before.
"Besides, that stone is 1.14 metres tall and 0.73 metres wide, with pressure sensors in the base. How exactly would he make it vanish without a trace — and then return it without a trace?"
"Then I'm out of ideas. It's not as if I'm Moriarty." Russell shrugged and put his head back down.
"If you were, this would actually be a lot simpler to sort out." Charlotte remarked from beside him.
"Though what Mary just said did remind me of another possibility."
"What, you think he's going after the Queen's crown after all?"
"No — I mean his target." Charlotte said.
Mary frowned slightly at that.
"You're thinking Buckingham Palace?"
"Yes." Charlotte gave a nod.
"If you had to name one place in London that is grand enough, secure enough, and sufficiently steeped in symbolic meaning, there really is only one candidate."
Russell's eyes went wide.
You're serious about this?
"If it is Buckingham Palace..." Mary mused for a moment. "That would actually make sense."
"Logically speaking, it is the most reasonable inference." Charlotte said.
"He needs a stage grand enough for his one-man show, and a target weighty enough to match that flamboyant announcement letter. Buckingham Palace, whether you assess it by security level, symbolic significance, or public impact, is simply the perfect choice."
"But what's he actually after?" Russell couldn't help but ask. "What inside Buckingham Palace could he possibly want to steal? Surely not literally the Queen's crown?"
"Who knows. Perhaps it's simply about proving a point."
"Proving what?"
"Proving that there is nowhere in this world he cannot go."
"That does sound like something Moriarty would do," Mary allowed, noncommittally.
"And what would he take, then — royal scandals? Jewellery?"
"I haven't the faintest idea, and I can't be bothered to speculate." Charlotte said.
"What he steals is beside the point. What matters is that he demonstrates to the citizens of London that he broke into Buckingham Palace. That is his objective. Whatever he takes is purely incidental.
In the end, it's just a harmless little prank — which is precisely why I can't be bothered to lose sleep over it. Even if he walked out with an ashtray, I wouldn't find it the least bit surprising."
Mary was quiet for a moment at that, and then said: "Do you intend to share this theory with Mycroft?"
"Ordinarily, Mycroft is the one who comes to me." Charlotte replied. "I can't be bothered to go to him."
Russell had just begun to breathe a quiet sigh of relief when he heard Charlotte's tone shift abruptly.
"This time, however, could be an exception."
"Why?" Russell asked instinctively.
"He's made my life difficult. So in return, I can make his life a little difficult as well — can't I?"
Charlotte said it as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
____
________________________________________
If you want more chapters, please consider supporting my page on (P). with 50 advanced chapters available on (P)
👻 Join the crew by searching Leanzin on (P). You know the spot! 😉