PETER CONAN KRANZ
"Holmes, there's a young virtuoso performing the premiere of Mr Elgar's new violin concerto tonight at St James's Hall. It’s promoted by the Royal Philharmonic Society. What say we make an evening of it?"
"Young Fritz Kreisler? Yes, he shows promise. I'm with you, Watson."
Dressed in their best evening clothes - black tie, top hats and canes – the pair made their way to St James, feeling somewhat out of place amongst the great and good of London society.
"Watson, I tire of these social events. If it wasn't for the opportunity to hear Fritz I'd be inclined to retire home."
"Holmes - who is that man yonder wearing a black fedora? I'm sure I've seen him before."
Holmes grabbed Watson by the arm and steered him behind a pillar.
"Watson, if I'm not mistaken, that is one of the most evil geniuses to have walked this earth. Machiavelli was a mere innocent by comparison. Take care, he mustn't see us!"
"Now why do you suppose Moriarty would come to a musical concert? We must observe."
The aforementioned Moriarty strode across to a tall gentleman in what appeared to be the German dress uniform of a high-ranking officer.
Holmes - "Now what can they be up to?"
The German officer discreetly handed a small package to Moriarty, then turned on his heel and marched away.
"Watson, remember the episode of the Napoleons? Whatever did happen to that enormous black pearl? I understood it mysteriously disappeared from the police evidence vault."
Watson - "Yes - some officers were suspected of corruption, but nothing was ever found."
Holmes - "I believe it originated from the German territory of New Guinea. If the source of such lustrous pearls could be found, fortunes would be made and wars fought."
"But Holmes, this evening's concert?"
"If you wanted to dispose of such a gem who better to hand it to than a scoundrel like Moriarty in the anonymity of a public place?"
“You are a true genius, Holmes.”
Moriarty seeming nervous, tugged down on his fedora and quickly left the assembled concert goers.
"Quick Watson we must follow!"
And so the detective and his doctor companion played a game of cat and mouse as Moriarty furtively slid through the shadows in the backstreets of Whitechapel before they lost him in the fog.
Holmes and Watson could not in their wildest imagination envisage how they next encounter him - and what trail of mystery, intrigue and evil that black pearl would take them down.