“Well, bring your checkbook with you, sir, for I’ve decided to make payment in advance a requirement. I have discovered a good percentage of our customers do not think it is necessary to pay their bills in a timely manner.” Vic glanced at Xavier. “And, of course, be early, for Mr. Thorn has a strong preference for timeliness.”
“I see you also have the gift of diplomacy,” Winston said
Xavier released a loud “Ha!” and slammed down his tea. “Diplomacy? The boy is impertinence incarnate. What you witnessed was pure cheekiness, not diplomacy. I would have fired him the first day if not for the clever brain swelling his head.”
Xavier nodded to an empty chair beside Winston. “Now, sit down and take up your pad, Victor. Winston does not break into offices and write himself into my day unless his case is something truly important.”
Winston’s furrowed brow was a sure sign the man didn’t want Vic in the room. “Despite the sad impression Victor has presented, I assure you, he is most reliable.” When the wrinkled brow remained, Xavier added, “And since I have come to rely upon his insightful mind, he will hear of your case either from you directly or me.”
Winston’s continued hesitation angered Xavier on Vic’s behalf. He was about to suggest Winston go elsewhere, but his pup interceded.
“Mr. Thorn has given his word he will not fire me for three months, sir, so you have no fear of a disgruntled unemployed secretary on the loose, and trust me, with the hours I keep, I have no friends with whom to share idle gossip.”
Winston laughed. “And how did you wring such a promise, may I ask?”
“I was well aware of his reputation for never keeping a secretary for more than a week, so I would not accept the position until he offered me a reasonable longevity in which I could make myself invaluable and thus impossible to dismiss.”
Winston smiled. “And how long into your safe haven tenure are you presently?”
“This begins my second week,” Vic replied with pride. “And you will be my third case.”
“Victor, you are getting perilously close to complimenting yourself again,” Xavier warned. “So close your mouth and allow me to do so instead.” He leaned across his desk and his mood turned serious. “Victor possesses an innate talent for this line of work. His intuitive skills were critical in resolving each of his cases. I would not insist upon his involvement in whatever trouble you are bringing to my door if I did not think he could help us resolve it faster.”
Winston nodded once and focused on Vic. “I am pleased to have your assistance in this matter, for a serious and baffling situation has befallen my employer, Aaron de Coeur.”
Xavier addressed Vic. “Winston is Aaron’s right hand.”
“Steward,” Winston clarified.
Xavier filled his pipe as he explained. “Aaron and I have been best of friends since we were boys. He’s French royalty by birth, but didn’t care for the life. So he ran off to America, changed his name to Aaron Hart and became a horse rancher.” His focus returned to Winston. “We correspond by letters, but none have indicated anything amiss.”
“He is fine, but he has recently returned to France to tend to his dying father, the Marquis de Coeur. On his death bed, his father confessed he had married a young English girl.”
“That does not sound like the Marquis…”
“He did so in an act of last resort. His investments had all gone badly and he needed money. A man he believed to be his friend, Lord Robert Conrad, was the guardian of a young woman with a sizable fortune. Lord Conrad convinced the Marquis to marry her.”
“How old was she?” Xavier asked.
Winston paused. “Sixteen when he married her. Twenty-one now.”
Xavier shook his head in disbelief. He had met Aaron’s father on several occasions. He could not imagine the proud, dignified man would marry a child for money.
Winston seemed to read his thoughts. “He was desperate. He could not even pay his servants, and Aaron had written asking him for another capital infusion to expand the ranch. While the Marquis was not comfortable with the marriage, he agreed to it.
“Lord Conrad convinced him England was too far to travel, so he sent his steward, Girard Candor, to marry the girl by proxy. On the wedding day, the girl balked at signing the contract until she was promised a four thousand pounds a month stipend and the right to remain on her estate in England. In the Marquis’ name, the steward agreed to both.”
Xavier choked and set down his pipe. “The man should have been fired. What type of fool would agree to such a sum, and what, but trouble, could a young girl bring about with such money?”
“While it was exorbitant, the Marquis agreed to the stipend, for it seemed a pittance compared to the five hundred thousand pounds he had just taken from her, along with any hopes she might have for a true life. His guilt on this latter point caused him to send a message with Candor when he delivered the monthly stipend. His message said he did not mind if she took a lover, for he did not wish to deprive her of life’s greatest pleasure. However, instead of engaging in a discreet affair, she took many lovers…a whole club, to be precise.”
Xavier frowned, recalling a recent blackmail case involving a young lady with a plethora of lovers. “Are we talking about Anne Rothchild?”
“Yes, you’ve heard of her?”
Xavier rolled his eyes. “It would be hard to find a gentleman who has not.”
Vic raised a finger.
“Except for Victor, who has just come down from Oxford, where his head never left the books. I snatched him up before he had a chance to fall into trouble.” Xavier turned to him. “Lady Anne has turned her estate into a club for gentlemen. They are offered a choice of the finest horses, very challenging riding paths, swimming in a beautiful lake, hunting in excellent woods during all seasons and, at night, musical entertainment, ending in a poker game in which the winner gets to bed the beautiful Lady Anne.”
“Sounds very nice,” Vic replied.
“It is the most sought-after membership in London, but to get in, you must be invited and, once in, there’s a long list of rules. Breaking even one will result in immediate dismissal from the club.”
“You seem to know quite a bit about this,” Winston said.
“Yes, well, my sources are the embittered men who have been dismissed. However, I find not only the club, but their universal adoration of Lady Anne most odd, since it is exclusively for homosexual men.”
Winston eyes rounded. “Are you certain?”
“Quite.”
“So Lady Anne’s reputation may not be true?”
Xavier sighed. “No, according to my sources, the rumors are accurate. She willingly gives herself to whichever gentleman wins the poker game. What I don’t understand is why so many of the club members vie to win her affections each night. Evidently, she is so seductive, she can claim men for her lovers, regardless of their natural preference. We are presently dealing with a similar situation in a different case. Fortunately, I’ve no indications that your seductress plots murder nor has she wasted Aaron’s money on trifles. She is reputed to have some of the finest horses in all of England. Aaron will no doubt be pleased with them.”
“Why should Aaron get her horses?” Vic demanded.
“Because he is now the Marquis,” Xavier answered.
“But the horses are hers. You said yourself she purchased them with her stipend.”
“A stipend is not a gratuity, Victor. It was simply the agreed-upon sum the Marquis would make available to his wife for purchases, but, legally, anything she bought still belongs to him.”
“Which is precisely why some women choose not to marry,” Vic grumbled.
“Thank you for the unnecessary and irrelevant observation, Victor. Shall we allow Winston to continue?”
Victor apologized and resumed taking notes.
Winston smiled and continued. “Upon examining his father’s ledgers, Aaron discovered most of the five hundred thousand pounds missing and, to preserve the estate,
retreats were required. He sent Candor to England to negotiate a substantial cut in Lady Anne’s stipend and told me to reduce his staff at his father’s castle from forty-three to ten.”
“Sounds reasonable.”
Winston shook his head. ”Only five poorly paid servants were on staff, not forty-three, as Candor’s books said. With Aaron’s permission, I searched the steward’s room in the castle and found, behind a secret panel, a set of ledgers proving the man had not only siphoned off the Marquis’ original money, but had done the same with the second fortune. One of my duties today is to ask the English government to have certain bank accounts seized, in hopes Candor has not yet removed the money to new accounts. My second task, which I hope you will perform, is to delve into Lord Conrad’s background with a fine-tooth comb.”
“An excellent opportunity to teach young Victor the tedious job of research. How soon do you need it, and what are you expecting to find?”
“A connection between Girard Candor and Lord Conrad,” Winston said.
Vic glanced up. “Well, their names are comprised of the same letters. Candor…is Conrad scrambled.” She grimaced and shrugged. “The anagram could be a coincidence.”
“We will dig into the backgrounds of each, for both are linked to the money. One helped deliver it into the hands of the Marquis and the other helped remove it.” Xavier leaned back in his chair and focused on Winston. “Who is your government contact concerning the accounts?”
“A Mr. Thomas Kline.”
“He’s a fairly reasonable man. Tell him I advised you to speak to him. It might soften the fact you are asking an Englishman to seize funds from a fellow Brit and give it to a frog.”
“Why do you think Aaron sent his British steward, but I will mention your name, for I’ve little reason to expect assistance, especially if the larger account is Lord Conrad’s.”
“If that’s the case, you will make no progress at all,” Xavier assured him. “The man has considerable influence in Parliament.”
Winston frowned. “Do you know how he comes by such?”
“When working on a case with Scotland Yard last year, I saw his interference firsthand, and it did lead me to speculate on the matter, but I have no proof and better sense than to ever say it out loud, even to you.”
“He is that powerful?”
“When he wishes to be. Otherwise, he is simply an esteemed member of society.”
Winston frowned. “I fear I have given you a far more dangerous task than I intended.”
Xavier shrugged. “Poor Victor would be most unhappy if there were not some danger in the task. He is under the misconception all my assignments are a matter of life and death. I would not wish to disappoint him in his second week.”
“Still, I would not put you at risk.”
Xavier drew on his pipe. “I incur risks all the time. No, I am most willing to take your case. I have no fear of blackmail, for I live a most virtuous life.”
Winston glanced toward Vic.
“Don’t worry about my employees. I know all the sins of their past. They cannot be blackmailed with the threat of losing their job. I don’t judge men on their past deeds, I judge them by their current actions, and I find myself pleased with both my employees.”
He paused and eyed Victor. “This one is cheeky, but I’m forced to endure it. His impertinence springs from a brilliant mind that I so admire. Have no worry, Winston, you will know a great deal about Lord Conrad in two weeks’ time.”
Winston’s pained expression told him the man needed the information sooner. “When do you wish your first installment?”
“Today…”
“Well, I will be able to provide his current address: 12 Cantor Boulevard, his marital status—unmarried, and a fair count of his mistresses—none,” Xavier replied. “And you’ll be happy to know I endured no risks in obtaining the information.”
Winston sighed. “Notify me when you have found a bit more.”
“Gladly, and I appreciate your understanding a young apprentice requires time to actually go to buildings, open up dusty books, and follow endless trails frequently going nowhere.”
Winston shook his head. He wished Victor good luck with his job and let himself out.
Xavier softly laughed. “How odd. Here you are the luckiest young man in the world, getting a chance to work with me, and Winston has the audacity to actually pity you.”
“He must be mad,” Vic declared and closed her writing pad.
“I’m glad you realize it.” Xavier leaned back in his chair and studied his apprentice. By the way she gnawed her bottom lip he perceived something worried the pup.
“Well, out with it,” Xavier said.
“What?”
“Whatever is tormenting you with worry.
“You said you knew all the sins of your employees.”
“And you are worried I’ve got some sin pinned on you when you know you’ve led a virtuous life? Relax, Vic. My comment referred to Davy. I didn’t want to single him out, so I threw you in as well. However, have no fear, if you have somehow managed to hide some terrible sin from my keen observation, I will not fire you for it. I judge you by the young man you are, here and now, and I am very pleased with you, Victor. We play very nicely together.”
“Even though I’m cheeky?” she challenged.
“Even though… It would not do to be too perfect. You’ve no doubt one or two small things about me you would like to change.”
She choked in response.
“You’ve an endless list of quirks as well, you ungrateful pup, many of which I find most annoying at times. Yet, in truth, I would not change them, for I rather enjoy having something to yell about and since you’ve taken over the office, I find myself more content than I’ve ever been. Sometimes, I would daresay, my mood even borders on happiness, which leaves me sadly void of true reasons for outbursts.”
“So you’ve taken up the new habit of embarrassing and ridiculing me in front of clients?”
“Well, Winston is actually a friend, and I normally do not charge him. Had he not broken into my office, I would have made you return his check. However, assuming he abides by your rules for appointments, do not charge him or Aaron in the future. As to your claim of embarrassing you, I do not recall ridiculing you at all. In fact, I praised you on several occasions.”
“You did. I imagine poor Mr. Black had no idea what to make of all your turnabouts.”
“If I did tease you a bit, it was only to bring out your cheekiness so I could amaze him with what a patient and obliging fellow I’ve become. Now stop moping about like a spoiled brat and go make a list of information you believe we should discover about Lord Conrad.”
Chapter 19
Vic was in hell, for Xavier was wrong. She possessed a secret, perhaps not a sin exactly, but information that a blackmailer could easily use against her, hurting Xavier’s credibility and name as well as destroying her life.
As she dutifully wrote out the questions about Conrad she wished answered, she realized how impossible the situation truly was. It had never occurred to her investigators had to be above reproach or the persons investigated could easily turn the tables and blackmail them into silence.
When she finished her list, with a heavy heart, she wrote her resignation and placed it as the last page. Vic set the stack of paper on her desk and left the office. She walked the entire way home, having developed a fear of hired cabs. Determined not to cry in public, she hurried down the street.
Gregory barely had time to open the door and let her in before she burst into tears and threw her arms around his waist.
“Here now, what has happened?”
“You no longer have to complain about my long hours at work,” she declared between heavy sobs.
“He fired you? I’ll box his ears, I will!”
“He didn’t fire me. I quit.”
“But why? I thought you liked being a sleuth.”
“I did…I do, but I realized my secret pu
ts Xavier at risk. If a criminal discovered it, he could blackmail me into compromising a case.”
“Well, if such a day comes, by all means quit, but you shouldn’t go hunting for trouble, which hasn’t yet found you,” Gregory chided.
She stared at him in horror. “Oh Gregory, I’ve done a very stupid thing!”
“Can you undo it?”
“Maybe…I at least have to try. Can you have the carriage readied? I’m too tired to walk all the way back.”
***
Xavier came out to chide Vic for taking a lifetime to write the list of questions only to find the pup missing. He eyed the neat stack of pages on her desk and smiled. No doubt, she finished her work and snuck out for food. Oddly, she seemed to require constant feedings. He had trained his body to expect only one meal in the evening, but Vic required three full meals every day. He needed to break the habit, for all her eating would cause havoc with his routine. Such as now. He’d intended to take her to the courthouse, and she’d disappeared in search of lunch.
Annoyed by her absence, he sat on her desk and complained about every question she had written. He had decided to make her go through them and cull the list by half when he reached the last page and read:
It is with deepest regret that I must resign my position. I wish I could explain why it is necessary but I cannot. Trust me, this is done with the kindest of intentions….Vic
Bloody hell! Kindest of intentions? What happened? “Davy!” he bellowed and soon heavy feet came running down the steps.
“Where has Vic gone and why did you let him leave?”
Davy blinked and stared about the room and scratched his head. Without a word, he ran outside, followed by Xavier, and began readying the horse. At the clatter of horse hooves on the cobblestones, he stopped and smiled. “The Hamilton carriage is coming up the street.”
Xavier spied Vic’s face peering from the window and he stormed inside, tidying the papers on her desk. He remained too emotional to talk to her now. He might damn well strangle the pup for the scare she’d given him. Returning to his office, he poured himself a stiff drink and sat down to regain his composure.
The Troublesome Apprentice (The Adventures of Xavier & Vic Book 1) Page 14
