Moriarty's Musician

Siding with the Angels, Part 2

Annabelle put her hands against his chest and angrily pushed. "This isn't a game, and I'm not your pawn. This is my life!"

She glared at him, and he immediately regretted his loose tongue. Annabelle rubbed her forehead, walked to a chair, and sat down as she looked into the fire. Moriarty took the other chair and waited. Long moments passed as neither one spoke.

"Why didn't he tell me he was my father?"

Moriarty studied her.

"All those years I was with him." Annabelle closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead again. "All those hours learning that material... for what?"

She sighed deeply and leaned back in the chair, her eyes fixed on the flames that crackled and licked the wood.

"My mother came to the school when he was teaching me. She was so angry when she saw me with him. He sent me into the hall and shut the door, but I could still hear my mother screaming at him." Annabelle swallowed. "I could hardly hear him at all... just her."

"When she came out, she walked over to me, and before I knew what was going on, she put a knife to my throat. She kept saying, over and over, he couldn't have me." Annabelle's breath was coming in shallow spurts as she looked at Moriarty. "Mr. Milverton... my father... stopped her from killing me."

Moriarty leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees.

Annabelle wrapped her arms around herself. "He had my mother placed in an asylum where he said they could treat people with her mental illness. He told me he would take care of everything if I continued my studies with him."

Annabelle stood up and walked over to the desk and touched the violin, moving her fingers over the strings as it lay on the desk. "So I did, and he paid for everything. He even enrolled me in the University of London in the English Lit program. I wanted to study music, but he refused."

"When I arrived in London, I didn't hear from him again. I called the phone number he gave me, and they said he had died." Annabelle leaned against the desk, still staring at the violin. "Why didn't he tell me he was my father?"

Moriarty came over to her but didn't touch her. "He was going to tell you, Annabelle. That's why he called you to London to tell you the truth so he could be closer to you."

She looked at him suspiciously. "How do you know that?"

Moriarty weighed how much he should tell her. "Magnussen hired me to watch over you while you were in London."

"He hired you?" Annabelle's eyes narrowed as she searched his face. "You're lying to me again," she whispered as she shook her head. "My father wouldn't hire you. You're a... " She couldn't speak the words.

A vein ticked in Moriarty's jaw. "A monster?"

"No," she answered quickly. She turned her face away from him and sighed. "I don't know who you are, James."

Moriarty gently grasped her shoulders and turned her to look at him. "I'm someone who knew your father, Annabelle. He had such plans for you. That's why he provided for you when your mother couldn't. He called you to come and join him in London because he was going to introduce you to society as his daughter. He also had connections with the musical community. That's where he met your mother. I'm sure he would've let them know what an incredible musician you are."