“Shall the two of us go fetch the mechanical device from Sudler’s hideaway?” asked Sheffield.
Wrexford considered the question. “On second thought, I’ve decided we should wait. I doubt that the fugitives are planning to return, so there’s little risk in delaying.” He had refastened the fancy lock on leaving the workshop. “I want Tyler to see all the machinery that was used to fabricate the device, in case it sparks any ideas.”
Charlotte gingerly settled onto the sofa, suddenly aware of how the morning riding had required the exertion of long-unused muscles. “Where is Alison?”
“Higgins informed me that the dowager retired to take a nap after having nuncheon with the Weasels.”
The mention of food made her realize she was famished, as well as sore. “Might we ring for tea?” she asked as Sheffield sat down beside her. “And then perhaps the three of us should discuss what to do next, before the boys finish being boys and Alison wakes from her slumber.”
A maid was summoned and sent to fetch refreshments.
“Would that she could return with some facts for us to chew on,” muttered the earl. “With what we know right now, there’s not much to discuss. There seems little more we can learn here, so I see no choice but to return to Town.”
He rose and began to pace. “We haven’t a clue as to where Lady Cordelia and her two companions have gone, so it seems to me the logical step is to begin delving deeper into Woodbridge’s mysterious bank loans.”
“And the mysterious Annie Wright,” added Charlotte.
Wrexford’s grudging nod conceded the point. He then tapped his fingertips together. “And we need to see what develops regarding the bloody knife.” A pause. “Though both Tyler and I find its discovery a little too convenient.”
“Sometimes the very act of subterfuge can tell us more than the perpetrator realizes,” mused Charlotte.
Sheffield looked a little puzzled. “What do you mean?”
“If someone is seeking to point a finger at Woodbridge, it indicates he’s a threat to them,” she explained. “Looking at it from that perspective may help us narrow down the possible suspects.”
Their friend edged forward on his seat. “Who . . . ?”
“We need more information before we can begin drawing up a list,” cut in the earl.
“Perhaps I can ferret out something useful,” said Sheffield after a moment of thought. “Until now, I’ve felt beholden to keep my promise to Lady Cordelia not to reveal the other partners in our business. But I feel honor demands that my loyalty no longer be given to her lies. They may know more than I do about her current activities.”
“And yet there were no other names listed as stockholders,” observed Wrexford.
“That’s because—” But before Sheffield could go on, an urgent knocking caused all three of them to turn to the door.
“Your pardon, milord,” intoned the butler nervously after Wrexford hurried to click open the latch. “But there’s a lady here demanding to see you.”
A cough.
“And she says it’s a matter of life and death.”
CHAPTER 17
“Thank you for agreeing to see me, milord.” Lady Cordelia peeled off her kidskin gloves as she stepped out from behind the pale-faced Higgins and entered the study. “Please forgive the rather lurid exaggeration, but I had to make sure I wouldn’t be turned away.”
She wasn’t quite so coolly composed as she wished to appear, noted Wrexford. Her hands were tremoring as she unknotted the strings of her bonnet and placed it on the side table.
Sheffield was staring in mute shock. Charlotte had settled back in her chair, schooling her expression to give nothing away.
“We’ve just ordered tea,” said the earl. “Do have a seat. It should be here in a moment.”
“Tea,” repeated Cordelia, her voice hovering between horror and amusement. “Oh, quite right. What would we do without that lifeblood from the East to lubricate all the everyday lies and subterfuges of Polite Society?”
“An interesting choice of words,” observed Wrexford.
She met his gaze without flinching. “I shall endeavor to explain them.”
“Do sit,” said Charlotte as the maid appeared with a large tray of refreshments. “There is something to be said for the power of rituals to break the ice, so to speak, and allow interactions to flow more smoothly.”
Sheffield still hadn’t taken his eyes off Cordelia. While she had studiously avoided any glance in his direction.
After a brief hesitation, Cordelia took a seat on the sofa.
The clink of porcelain punctuated soft splashes of liquid. Vapor curled up in silvery plumes as Charlotte passed around the cups. “By the by, how did you know we were here? We came to the professor’s cottage early this morning, only to find you gone.”
“I walked into the village last night to buy some bread and cheese and overheard a servant mention the earl was expecting guests. I added two and two together,” replied Cordelia. “We left before dawn, as we were planning to return to London—”
“Enough of pleasantries,” interrupted Sheffield, pushing aside his tea untasted. “What the devil are you doing here?”
Wrexford repressed a wince. The sparks crackling in his friend’s gaze were fierce enough to burn Satan to a cinder.
“I imagine that’s a rhetorical question, sir,” replied Cordelia. “But in a nutshell, I’ve come to ask for your help.”
“Why now?” demanded Sheffield
Cordelia carefully smoothed a section of her skirts into three equal pleats. “Because it’s taken me this long to unravel the lies within lies and follow the money,” she replied. “I’m now confident I know what evil is afoot, and Professor Sudler and I want to put an end to it. However, the men responsible for the scheme have threatened to ruin my brother and have him sent to prison unless we cooperate with them.”
She hesitated. “So the professor and I have, for now, agreed to perform the tasks they demand of us. Not simply to save Jamie, but also to give us time to identify the men in charge and bring them to justice.” Another tiny pause. “However, we can’t do it on our own.”
Sheffield narrowed his eyes. “How do we know you are not simply telling us more lies?”
Cordelia’s face paled as all the blood rushed to her cheeks. “I never lied to you!”
“You . . .” He blinked. “You . . .”
“Yes?” she challenged.
“You and your brother left without any explanation,” mumbled Sheffield. “When we discovered the bank loans he had secured, what else was I supposed to think other than that you had deceived me and used me as pawn to get money from Wrexford?”
Cordelia’s indignation burned out just as quickly as it had flared. “I haven’t ever lied to you in either word or deed, sir. Our business venture has nothing to do with my brother and the web of deceit in which he’s become entangled. It’s completely legitimate. You have my word on that.” Her chin rose. “Assuming you’ll believe me.”
“Silence!” commanded the earl, before the discussion became impossibly confused. “If I’m to have any hope of understanding what’s going on, we need to have an orderly explanation of this cursed mystery—”
“I shall try, milord.” Cordelia pinched at the bridge of her nose. “Though I fear it’s difficult to distill it into a simple explanation.”
“Just start somewhere,” Wrexford growled.
“Very well.” She cleared her throat. “Jamie was approached by a friend and invited to invest in a financial venture that guaranteed a great profit. That, of course, seemed too good to be true. So I tried to warn him that there had to be something havey-cavey about it. However, Jamie wouldn’t hear any caveats from me. Whose word do you think held the greater weight? That of his sister or that of the East India Company?”
“The East India Company?” Wrexford felt a chill touch the top of his spine. A glance at Charlotte showed that she had experienced the same frisson of alarm. “To accu
se them of impropriety is a very serious allegation to make, Lady Cordelia,” he added softly.
“Nonetheless, it’s true.”
By virtue of its immense wealth and economic clout, the Company wielded great influence on politics and government affairs in Britain. Indeed, its tentacles reached into just about every aspect of society. The earl couldn’t imagine a more dangerous enemy.
“Be that as it may, such statements could put you in grave peril if they reach the wrong ears,” he pointed out.
“I’m safe enough for now, which I shall explain shortly,” Cordelia replied. “But first let me finish explaining what is going on. I will be as clear as I can, but the threads twist and twine into a serpentine maze of deception that isn’t always easy to unwind.”
The earl nodded.
“Jamie was manipulated into taking out a number of bank loans in order to invest in the business venture. They fed him a number of clever lies about why the money couldn’t appear to have come from the East India Company,” she continued. “They then cobbled together a thick set of complicated legal documents, assuring him they all were simply formalities. My brother, alas, is an honest and trusting soul. He believed them and blithely penned his name everywhere they asked him to sign, and then turned over his personal loan documents for supposed safekeeping.”
Cordelia took a moment to steady her voice. “And so Jamie is now the sole stockholder of a trading company whose only business is running a very sophisticated financial scheme involving fraud and morally reprehensible commerce. He can’t withdraw or go to the authorities. The dastards hold all the funds necessary to repay the bank loans. And they cleverly left no trail to incriminate themselves, so he has no proof of his entrapment.”
Sheffield uttered an oath. “Then how will you escape their clutches?”
She gave a tight smile. “I met with one of their henchmen and made a deal, which I’ll explain shortly. Suffice it to say, it offers us a way to earn back the money and the legal papers.”
“Assuming they’ll keep their word,” cut in Wrexford.
“I’m not as naïve as my brother, milord. I’m under no illusion that they’ll ever release their hold on Jamie. Which is why I’m here.” Cordelia shifted her gaze from him to Charlotte and then to Sheffield. “Knowing firsthand how skilled you are at solving diabolically clever crimes, I’m hoping you might help me discover the identity of the dastards and plan a way to bring them to justice.”
“Is the murder of Henry Peabody part of this financial conspiracy?” asked Charlotte abruptly.
“Yes! But I swear to you that my brother didn’t kill him. He’s honorable to a fault and abhors violence!” responded Cordelia. “Jamie was summoned to a mysterious meeting at Queen’s Landing. A man—he never identified himself, but it seems it must have been Mr. Peabody—somehow came to know that Jamie had become involved in the enterprise, and handed over papers that he claimed revealed it was a fraud. He also warned my brother of its evils and told him that it must be stopped. In leaving the dockyards, the two of them were attacked. Jamie managed to escape and assumed Peabody did, too. ”
Cordelia bit her lower lip. “It was only later, when I arrived at your house for my lesson with Raven, that I learned otherwise.”
“Go on with your story,” urged Sheffield after several moments of silence had slid by.
The mention of murder appeared to have put Cordelia’s nerves on edge. At the sound of steps coming down the corridor, she hesitated.
A discreet click sounded as the door to the study swung open.
“One of the maids mentioned that refreshments had just been served.” The dowager paused to pat back a yawn. “I feel a bit peckish after my nap. Might I join you?”
“That depends on whether you care to digest a sordid tale of intrigue along with the freshly baked sultana muffins,” said Cordelia from her seat in the shadows.
Alison turned and squinted through her spectacles. “Ye heavens! I saw the boys just now in the gardens, and Raven said you still hadn’t been found.”
“Yes, well, like the old adage says, ‘A bad penny always turns up,’ ” came the sardonic reply.
“Do come in, Alison,” murmured Charlotte. “You need to hear this, too, assuming you’re not having second thoughts about getting involved in another murder investigation.” A wry smile. “Wrexford and I seem to be making a habit of it.”
The dowager quickly took a seat. “I wouldn’t miss it for all the tea in China.”
Cordelia huffed a grim laugh. “It’s funny you should mention tea in China.”
* * *
Charlotte tightened her fingers around her cup, the earl’s expensive Imperial blend turning bitter on her tongue. The tea trade was worth a fortune, and while the East India Company had begun to cultivate their own plantations in India, most of the tea served around the world came from China.
And much to the Company’s ire, China kept an iron-fisted control on its export.
“Lady Cordelia was just beginning to tell us that there’s something very rotten within the East India Company,” said the earl.
Alison’s expression turned grave. “Any trouble there could ripple out to the furthest reaches of society.”
“Precisely.” Wrexford steepled his hands and tapped the point against his chin. “So far, she’s told us how her brother became entrapped in a fraudulent financial scheme being run by someone within the Company. And that the victim in the recent murder at Queen’s Landing was a clerk who had discovered the financial irregularities in the company ledgers and had alerted Woodbridge of the fact.”
“It began with a plot to make an obscene profit from tea,” Cordelia said. “But as you’ll see, the dastardly scheme has evolved considerably over time. The conspirators are malefactors of the worst sort, but they are supremely smart and sophisticated businessmen.” Cordelia paused. “However, as I said, it all started with tea.”
“But . . .” Alison looked troubled. “But that’s impossible. I’ve heard the highest officials in government and the Company’s board of directors say that not even a teaspoon of leaves can be exported, save through the Chinese emperor’s consortium.”
“It’s difficult,” allowed Cordelia. “But not impossible.” She shifted in her chair. “It all has to do with silver.”
“Argentum!” exclaimed Charlotte.
“Yes, Argentum is the name that the conspirators gave to their clever scheme.” Cordelia pursed her lips and thought for a moment. “You see, the Chinese emperor will accept only silver as payment for tea and most other goods exported from his country. That has made silver a valuable commodity here in the West, which has driven up its price.”
“That’s simple economics. The law of supply and demand,” observed the earl.
“Correct. And the situation is made even worse because the emperor will not allow his countrymen to buy British products in return. As a result, silver is flowing out of Britain to China, which has our Treasury extremely worried and further feeds into the increased price for us over here,” said Cordelia. “But that’s where the story begins to get complicated. When I said there was fraud going on within the Company, unfortunately, I can’t tell you who is involved. Jamie and I have only met one of the henchmen, whom I call the Cobra, on account of his soulless reptilian gaze.”
She took a moment to steady her voice. “Nor can I say whether the corruption is known to their superiors. But rot has a tendency to spread . . .”
Charlotte couldn’t in good conscience disagree. Money was like a canker, eating away at even the strictest sense of morality.
“To get back to the details of the plan, the dastards originally came up with a scheme that allowed them to profit in multiple ways.” Seeing that Wrexford was about to speak, Cordelia hurried on. “First of all, they set up a smuggling operation to bring opium from India into China, where only a very small amount is legally allowed to be imported. They make a large profit. As you say, milord, supply and demand.”
; “And they ask for the payment in silver,” guessed Charlotte.
Sheffield’s eyes widened. “Supply and demand! I’ll wager they were able to demand a great deal of silver for their opium, due to its scarcity.”
“Correct. You see, Mr. Sheffield, you have a very good head for business,” said Cordelia. “They were, in effect, getting the silver at a very cheap price.”
Sheffield again jumped in. “So I would guess they took the silver, used it to buy tea from the emperor’s consortium, and brought the tea back to England, presumably using false accounts to make it all seem like legitimate East India Company business. And thereby they would make another healthy profit.”
“Exactly,” answered Cordelia, with an approving nod. “However, the dastards soon saw a way to improve on their scheme.” She turned to the dowager. “To cut out the risk of shipping it back, they sold the tea to another foreign merchant—”
“Wait! I thought you said the Chinese controlled the trade in tea very strictly,” protested Alison.
“They do. But all the foreign merchants are confined to a certain enclave at any Chinese port open to international trade. Canton, on the Pearl River, is the principle site used by foreigners. Within these enclaves are ‘factories,’ which is what the offices and the mercantile agents—”
“Actually, the mercantile agents are called ‘supercargoes,’ or daban in Chinese,” interrupted Sheffield. When Cordelia raised her brows in surprise, he added, “As our company is planning to trade with China, I’ve been doing research on the subject.”
She gave a small nod. “It is these supercargoes who help facilitate all the financial transactions. Once the official business with the Chinese officials is completed and the tea is moved to the export area, there are side deals to be made.”
“On which, I assume, the Chinese choose to turn a blind eye,” said the earl.
“A smart move,” mused Sheffield. “Much better to leave it to the supercargoes, with their established trade routes and network of bribable officials, to disguise all this as a part of their legitimate trade.”
“Yes, but then the laws of economics took over,” Cordelia continued. “The emperor began demanding more and more silver for his tea. And it appears, based on what Jamie overheard a loose-lipped assistant to the Cobra say, that the conspirators began to worry, as they were paying out more and more bribes to men with whom it was dangerous to diddle.”
Murder at Queen's Landing Page 18
