As my opponent swung around and lifted his weapon, my cane crashed upon his arm and rebound upward, directed at his jaw. As his weapon clattered to the floor, and his head jolted back from the blow, I flipped the cane to project the heavy knob on the end. I swiftly cracked his skull on his temporal indentation just behind the corner of his eye. He was dead before his body flopped on the floor. “Holmes!” Watson cried behind me. I stepped behind him and closed and locked the door. “Christy,’ he bemoaned as the body of his wife was revealed as I locked the door. “My God,” he exclaimed. “What has happened? Who is this that killed my Christy and for God’s sake why?’ he implored of me; tears streaming down his face as his hand clasped the lifeless hand of his wife. “I fear this is the handiwork of Moriarty.” I lamented. “What are you talking about?” Watson demanded. “What is going on here?” “I fear that Moriarty’s agents have come to a wrong conclusion when he recognized me and thought that Christy was aiding Jack in his underground work in the M Agency. His letter to her at the hotel incorrectly spotlighted her I think. ” I simply stated. “Jack, Christy, Moriarty? What are you going on about? How do you know that Jack is involved with that fiend Moriarty? What do you have to do with my nephew?” Watson suspiciously questioned me. “I have been trailing Moriarty in his insane plot to develop a new weapon to treacherously use against our Naval fleet. His agents must be onto or at least suspicious of your nephew Jack, who is an agent for the British government. I accompanied you to meet with Jack, thinking our casual meeting would seem innocent.” “Damn it Holmes, you used me unknowingly to come to Europe, you put me and Christy in danger without letting us know?” he yelled incredulously. “I am sorry to say yes, my friend.” I was saying as Watson leaped up from the seat and drove a fist squarely at my jaw. Having boxing experience also from my college days, I could easily have blocked it. Instead I let it land in a glancing blow. A blow that skimmed my jaw rather than square on which would surely have broken my jaw had I allowed it free access. It still hurt like hell. “Watson, I deserved that,” I admitted rubbing my sore jaw, “but we must revenge Christy and we cannot if we are at each other’s throat. Calm yourself. I erred in not bringing you into my confidence. This might have been avoided. I was sure we had not been highlighted and connected to Jack’s work or I would never had chanced even a contrived meeting in the open.” “Holmes, give me time.” Watson sat down with his head in his hands, quietly sobbing. I went over to the floor in front of Christy’s body. I hoped her Jesus had welcomed her with open arms. I picked up the scattered letter from Jack that she had apparently retrieved when she was interrupted. It was not what her intruder expected, since he threw it on the floor and started searching for something more tangible to his concerns. He probably hadn’t realized his useless murder before I took his worthless life. I read the letter, and then passed it over to Watson who had sufficiently recovered to calm down. Here is Jack’s letter: “My Dear Christy, Although we have not yet met, Watson has told me all about you. His love is readily apparent as he describes you, your physical beauty and lovely heart. I know he feels proud to have married you and wishes me to meet you. I feel he has gained much after his loss of his beloved Mary. I do not expect you to fill her shoes, nor should you try to replace her. I can tell that he truly loves you; he doesn’t even attempt to compare you to any of his previous wives. In fact they are not brought up. It is as if you are his one and only. He believes he has found his last love to spend the rest of his life with. He teasingly told me how you want to introduce him to Jesus personally when you both go to heaven. We do have something in common besides your husband it appears. We both know Jesus as our Lord. I was always a man to live by principals. I have been influenced by ideas rather than feelings or the wish for personal gain. But I know the Spirit of God now. It was just recently that I came to rely on Jesus for my salvation. I cannot tell you the unbelievable circumstance that led me to Christ. And I am afraid that my current occupation has kept my faith a close secret, I cannot even tell you what I really do; it would only endanger you. I know that seems impossible, how can just knowing something about someone, even a relative be dangerous. I cannot reveal anything about that; just trust my word. Maybe someday I can get Watson to write about my exploits as he has so admirably done for his friend Sherlock Holmes. I am anxious for your visit and I hope I can show you Vienna in a way that will impress you as much as Paris surely did. Since my dear mother died you two are my only relatives.