Chapter 33

33. "He locked me in"

Although I had expected this case to have a major impact on the university's professors, I hadn't expected its effects to spread so widely—more than half the university's professors, teaching assistants, lecturers, and doctoral students were investigated, causing a temporary shortage of staff.

Some classes had already been suspended temporarily, and the university was adjusting their content and schedules itself.

I happened to be taking very basic first-year courses, and compared with the more advanced ones, it was relatively easy to reallocate teaching resources for them, so they didn't have to be suspended.

However, Professor Moriarty filled in for two of my lecture courses for two weeks.

Adding his own course, I had three lecture courses with him in total.

His classrooms remained packed, and even arriving half an hour early didn't guarantee a particularly good seat. It made me miss the other professors terribly.

Besides the changes to our lecturers, there had also been many changes to the teaching assistants and tutors for our discussion classes. They had all been reassigned to higher-year courses, while students who had scored over 80 on quizzes were selected to serve as temporary teaching assistants for our first-year discussion classes.

Normally, for a student to be appointed as a teaching assistant, they had to have already completed the course with excellent grades. The university would then send an invitation asking whether they were willing to take the job. After this incident, even students who hadn't finished their courses were pressed into service, though the grade requirements were higher.

After I returned to university and discovered that Professor Moriarty was filling in for my lectures, I received four job offers from the university, one for each of four lecture courses.

The work essentially consisted of going over the answers to homework with my classmates, discussing the assigned readings with them, and answering their questions. If I encountered a major problem, I would discuss it with the professor beforehand and then tell the other students back in class. The work didn't really involve teaching as such.

Since the university didn't allow us to discuss our hourly pay with outsiders, I won't say what the wages were.

I wasn't particularly inclined to turn the offers down, because I thought that by Christmas I'd have my own money to buy presents. That way, I wouldn't need to draw some cash from Sherlock or ask him for it separately.

I'd heard that Watson was bringing his girlfriend Sarah to the flat for the holidays this time. I thought I should make dinner a little nicer, and perhaps buy a bottle of expensive red wine or champagne, as well as a matching set of glasses that we could use for major holidays afterward.

When spending someone else's money, I certainly couldn't think about so many fancy things, but if I earned my own, I could buy a few more things I wanted.

I quickly accepted the job offers.

The work really was easy, and an hour of class wasn't long. It didn't take up much time at all.

There was an additional requirement, though: before class, all the students filling in had to go over the answers together with the professor.

From my perspective, it meant that what had originally been taught by a teaching assistant was now taught by a professor.

The time involved had been cut by well over half.

Because the professors were busy, we students received the answers in advance and checked them ourselves for anything we didn't understand, then had twenty minutes to go over them with the professor. If none of us had any questions, we didn't need those twenty minutes and could leave on the spot.

It was extremely efficient.

And extremely quick.

I didn't single this out to talk about just because I'd earned money.

Mainly, it was because, while working as a teaching assistant, I once ended up going to Professor Moriarty's home unexpectedly. The experience had left such a deep impression on me that I had to talk about it.

Strictly speaking, students weren't allowed to visit a professor's home.

I didn't like going into other people's homes myself, either.

However, Professor Moriarty didn't come to the university that day. He was absent from work without explanation and didn't reply to emails or texts. Meanwhile, the other students were all waiting for the materials they needed to prepare for the next day's discussion classes. After considering it, the dozen or so of us got help from the university office and contacted his household. The person on the phone told us to send someone over to collect the materials.

Once they said that, the half of us who had been unenthusiastic about it, myself included—I'd thought that if we didn't have the materials, we wouldn't need to study them, and could simply review the lecture exercises in the next day's discussion class—actually had to choose someone to make the trip.

As soon as that was said, I noticed everyone looking at me. I didn't know why they were all looking at me.

I thought it might have been because I was easier to bully.

They asked if I could go.

Their asking meant they didn't want to go, and I didn't really want to go either.

I'd heard that Professor Moriarty lived in London Zone 2. It was also the time of afternoon when primary and secondary schools were letting out, and traffic was congested. It would probably take at least twenty to thirty minutes to get there. I wanted to refuse, but they said they'd buy me coffee for a week.

I said I wanted oat milk, not dairy milk. I liked coffee with oat milk.

They agreed.

All right, then.

I agreed.

I was just picking up some materials, and I ran errands for Sherlock all the time anyway.

Besides being lazy, the other reason I didn't want to go was that I thought going into Professor Moriarty's lair would be terrifying. But now everyone knew I was going to Professor Moriarty's place. What's more, before setting off, I wrote an email scheduled to send later—if I didn't make it back safely, it would be sent to Sherlock and Watson, and they would know where I'd gone too.

Once I'd prepared myself mentally, I set off.

Professor Moriarty's house was actually quite close to the city center. When I searched for the address online, several property websites came up at the top, and I could even look through the house's public purchase history and current valuation.

I couldn't resist my curiosity and checked the purchase history, discovering that the house had only recently been bought.

His villa cost at least six million pounds. All I could think about was how much his monthly mortgage payment must be. Assuming, for simplicity's sake, that he'd borrowed eighty percent from the bank, at current interest rates he'd have to pay over thirty thousand pounds a month in principal and interest. Converted to renminbi, that was 280,000 to 300,000 yuan a month. One month's mortgage payment would let me live at 221B Baker Street for two and a half years.

The world of the wealthy really was so very different.

I realized that Professor Moriarty had come to teach either because he truly loved mathematics or because he needed an identity as a cover.

His yard was surrounded by high walls, though perhaps it was more accurate to say that the whole neighborhood was full of grand houses behind high gates.

I rang the doorbell, and the person who answered had a very pleasant voice, gentle yet efficient.

I briefly explained why I was there, intending to wait at the gate for the materials and then leave. But through the patterned openings in the black metal gate, I saw a tall, handsome young man with brown hair

walking toward me.

He was clearly very well brought up, with the textbook-perfect bearing of an English gentleman. The elegance in his every gesture almost let one sense his inner composure and refined taste. The confidence that shone through that composure made his every action seem effortless yet full of charm.

What concerned me most, however, was that he wasn't carrying anything.

I hoped he wasn't going to invite me inside to sit down.

But what I feared came to pass. Murphy's law hadn't lied to me.

I didn't know who he was, but he seemed to be very familiar with Moriarty, addressing Professor Moriarty by his first name.

He smiled before he even spoke, then explained, "William was exhausted. He was so busy that he didn't get to sleep until morning. Once he's sound asleep, there's no telling when he'll get up. He won't be awake anytime soon, so please come in and wait."

I didn't move. "About how long will it take? I need to let the other students know first. They're waiting at the university too." In fact, they weren't. Everyone had gone their separate ways after sending me here. Technology was advanced now; all I had to do was photograph the assignments and upload them to the group chat for everyone to download. There was no need to spend time waiting at the university.

"He's been asleep for quite a while. Generally speaking, he should wake up in an hour and a half at most." The gentleman, who was like an older brother, stepped aside to let me through the gate first. "If I knew where William had put the materials you need, I could help you find them."

"There's no need to worry. These things are unavoidable. After all, the professor really is tired. He's teaching three lecture courses now and has to prepare exercises for the students too. He works very hard." I remained where I was. "Would you mind if I explained the situation to everyone first?"

"Please do."

After he said that, I glanced at him instinctively, and as though he'd been waiting for me to look at him, a faint smile appeared on his face. The more I looked at him, the more he seemed like the outstanding older brother from next door.

"I forgot to introduce myself. My name is He Xue. You can call me Lanny."

"I'm Albert." Mr. Albert smiled at me. "I know who you are. William has mentioned you."

Don't do this. I'm afraid all of you know me.

"I happen to have prepared afternoon tea and desserts. Would you do me the honor of joining me?" he asked.

I waved my hands. "I only came to pick something up, and I don't like eating when I'm out. You don't need to go to any trouble for me."

Albert showed no displeasure at my refusal and led me into the Moriarty house with a smile.

The inside was very spacious. The ceiling on the first floor must have been raised, and the whole house was open and bright, with decorations and paintings everywhere. There were three areas that looked like reception rooms between the entrance hall and the main living room alone, each furnished differently.

I'd originally planned to sit in the small open space near the entrance hall.

That little space was clearly designed for temporary visitors, making it just right for someone like me who was coming and going in a hurry. I also noticed a Yamaha hybrid piano in that cozy corner, adding a musical touch to the space. It was clear that the owner of the house had a great deal of style and taste.

The second reception room was a semi-open room. All I saw were rows of bookshelves, with English roses and Christmas cacti in bloom between them, as well as other green plants. I didn't take it all in at once. The last was the large main living room, which was clearly furnished for family use. Compared with the reception rooms, which emphasized practicality and professionalism, the place Mr. Albert brought me to was clearly more comfortable and relaxed, with warmer colors too.

What caught my attention most, of course, was the mouthwatering array of English afternoon tea treats on the living room's coffee table.

Every treat was a miniature, exquisite work of art: brightly colored fruit tarts, fluffy scones fragrant with milk, éclairs with various fruit fillings, smooth, delicate chocolate cheesecakes, and a pile of handmade finger sandwiches filled with fresh ingredients. These arrangements could have gone straight onto the cover of a food magazine without a filter.

An exquisite tea set stood at one corner of the coffee table, including a silver teapot and delicate porcelain teacups. Mr. Albert seemed to have been ready for some time and poured me a cup of black tea without hesitation. A faint aroma of tea filled the air. Beside the cup was a delicate little pitcher filled with pure white milk, giving off a slight milky fragrance. On the other side, a clear glass jar held snow-white sugar cubes, as though meant to bring the entire elegant and relaxing English tea experience to its peak.

"Please."

I glanced at the food and reluctantly refused. Accepting food or gifts from someone put you in their debt.

I refused again. "I really only came to pick up the materials. Please don't go to any special trouble for me."

Albert smiled. "You don't need to be so reserved."

To avoid getting stuck on the subject for ages, I casually pointed at the half-finished chess game on his table. "May I ask if you're playing against yourself?"

Following my words, Albert looked over and smiled. "Yes. William hasn't woken up yet, so I've been passing the time here by myself."

I wasn't sure who he was, but it wasn't convenient to ask.

I didn't want to know too much.

"Do you play chess?" Albert grew interested as we talked.

I shook my head. "I've never played, but I used to watch people play at the youth center. I only know a few of the rules."

Chess strategy focused more on controlling the center of the board and on attack and defense. Each kind of piece had its own rules of movement.

Go, on the other hand, involved overall positioning, local battles, and fighting for territory. The pieces in Go were all equal, and to play, you only needed to surround territory without being trapped by your opponent.

"We should still have plenty of time. Perhaps we could play a quick game," Albert said with a smile. "Shall I give you a handicap? After all, I'm already at a professional level."

Although I didn't know much about chess, I quickly agreed.

It was much more interesting than awkward small talk.

"Thank you. Sorry to trouble you, but please play a teaching game with me."

Albert explained how each piece moved and the rules in extraordinary detail, and I couldn't help marveling at how thorough his instruction was. Under his guidance, I gradually came to understand the basic tactics and strategies of chess, and soon defeated him in a teaching game.

Because of the time, we decided to play a ten-minute rapid game. Every move required careful thought, yet we could only play by instinct. This fast-paced kind of match was very interesting; I had to make a decision almost every second. The intense feeling of pursuit made it very interesting to me.

The pieces clicked

against the board like a cheerful, crisp drumbeat.

In what seemed like no time, we'd already played five or six rapid games,

and time seemed to fly beneath my fingertips. Seeing that the professor still hadn't woken up, I took the opportunity to suggest another game, but Albert waved his hand, a trace of fatigue on his face. "Allow me a moment's rest."

I was just getting into it, but I couldn't very well interrupt his rest, so I readily said, "Then have some tea. I'll wait until you've finished resting."

Albert had only just picked up his teacup when my words made him stop. After hesitating for a moment, he looked at me with a trace of puzzlement and asked, "Is this really your first time playing chess? Your speed and skill are far beyond a beginner's."

I thought it had to be because I already had some grounding in board games. "I used to play Go, and the skills carry over, so chess is easy to pick up too. But it's probably because a Go board is a little bigger, at nineteen by nineteen, compared with eight by eight for chess. Go has 361 stones, while chess only has thirty-two pieces, so I'm already used to doing more calculations. On top of that, I study mathematics, which gives me an advantage in calculation and working things out. I'm a little faster at calculating. Still, your traps have taught me a great deal. Every game presents a different challenge, and it's very interesting."

Albert smiled at me, though his smile seemed a little strained. "You could play a game with William. If he knew you'd beaten me in six rapid games the first time you played chess, he'd certainly want to compare notes with you."

Ah...

"But I still want to play with you." I paused, making it clear that I wasn't ready to stop. "You come up with a different way out of the situation every time. I want to see where your limits are. You haven't been giving it your all, have you?"

Albert held his teacup for a long time without drinking, and I didn't know what he was considering. Perhaps he was thinking of another opening, or perhaps he was briefly reviewing the games to work out how to teach me a lesson. Then he put down his teacup and told me to come with him. I didn't think much of it and followed him to a large door, where Albert said, "This is our library. You must be tired from playing chess too. Would you like to go in and have a look?"

I thought he might really be tired. With me there, he couldn't even get a sip of tea, so he was finding an excuse to send me somewhere else to amuse myself. So I went along with him and asked, "May I?"

Albert smiled amiably and agreed without hesitation. "Of course."

I'd only just entered the study when Albert smiled and pushed me farther inside. "Besides, so much time has passed. Why don't you wake William up? He's sleeping in the study. He'll be delighted if you wake him yourself."

W-wait, that kind of irresponsible thing to say...

Before I could react, Albert had pushed me farther through the doorway. By the time I turned around, the door behind me had already been shut tight.

I tried to push the study door open, but it was massive and heavy, and even when I twisted the handle with all my strength, it didn't budge. Either the door was too heavy and needed more than forty-four pounds of force to push open, or my wrist strength was far below the average for an adult man.

My mind instantly became a tangled mess.

The sudden situation made my heart race, as though an indescribable tension had settled over me.

The study was completely silent, as though no one were there.

Yet Albert had claimed that Professor Moriarty was inside.

At the thought, I couldn't help feeling my throat go dry.