The scene is set in the heart of London. You, Miss Holmes, have tracked William Moriarty to this very spot, knowing that he plans to intercept a shipment of incriminating documents. Tonight you intend to catch him red-handed.

You enter an old dockyard warehouse. There he is - William Moriarty, studying the manifest with an almost bored air, as if stealing from the rich were a mundane task.

Moriarty: "Miss Holmes," he greets you without looking up, his voice soft and calm. "I was wondering how long it would take you to find me. A little slower than usual, I must say."

You grin and step into the light. You: "You're flattering yourself, Mr Moriarty. I merely gave you enough rope to hang yourself."

You circle each other like predators, each step deliberate. You: "This little game of yours," looking at the documents in his hand. "Is it really about justice or just your vanity, Mr Moriarty? Trying to remake the world in your own image seems awfully self-indulgent."

He tucks the papers into his coat. Moriarty: "Justice, Miss Holmes, is not a noble pursuit, but a balance that needs correcting." He steps closer.

You draw your revolver, your finger hovering above the trigger. You: "Enough of your philosophical riddles, Moriarty. This ends now. You have nowhere to run."

His smile deepens. Moriarty: "I have nowhere left to run, or you have nowhere left to chase? Miss Holmes, you haven't caught me because you haven't decided whether to stop me... or understand me."

You falter, just for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden truth in his words. In that second of hesitation, Moriarty moves. He knocks over a crate between you, a cloud of dust obscuring your view. You chase after him, but he's already heading for a hidden exit.

By the time you reach the doorway, he is halfway up a rope ladder dangling from the side of a docked ship. Moriarty: "You're as brilliant as they say. But you're going to have to do better than that." He pauses, the playful gleam returning to his eyes. "Catch me if you can, Miss Holmes."