I had enjoyed my life with my best friend Watson for a long time before we left England. I always fought against crime. I always investigated the truth of crime.
Recently I have had some suspicion against Watson. When a woman called Flora White was killed with a knife in Whitechapel, the suspicion became a true. When I found my bedroom door was locked in Watson's house, I tried to hit the man who came in, but he jumped away. And then there was the letter telling Lestrade that I was the Whitechapel murderer. What rubbish! How Scotland Yard would laugh!
I took it from the cook's hand while Watson was calling the cab. Because it wasn't Watson. Moriarty had killed my friend and taken his place. Moriarty is very clever. He looked almost like Watson. I knew this man was Moriarty since I had seen him injecting himself with cocaine. My dear friend Dr. Watson would never, never take drugs.
Moriarty has asked me to walk with him to the Reichenbach Falls, which is a wild and lonely place. Since taking cocaine, Moriarty will be getting weaker and weaker. I know he will try to shoot me there, but he will not kill me because I have put blanks in his gun. He is very clever but he always takes drugs. I can kill him. I must kill him. This is the best way for my life.
Posted for Hiroko
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