The Earl's Mortal Enemy by Issy Brooke

Author:Issy Brooke [Brooke, Issy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Victorian, london, Murder, sleuth
Publisher: Issy Brooke
Published: 2020-06-25T20:00:00+00:00

OF COURSE, Theodore thought as they headed into the main bank in the local town at first light the next day. This was a county-wide business with branches all over the region. Prendergast needs me to accompany him on these visits. Yes, he could use his authority as a policeman of some rank to compel them to talk to him, but how much easier it is to use me – my rank and title means the managers will speak openly and willingly.

And we are far more likely to be offered decent refreshments too. People rolled out the good biscuits when an Earl hove into view.

Yet Theodore found that the knowledge he was being used, to some extent, did not make him as resentful as he might have been. At least he was being of use as much as being used. The investigation, he reminded himself, was bigger than his own ego.

Sir Henry, the manager of the largest local bank, was very pleased to see them. He had only just arrived at his offices and apparently had not yet breakfasted. As he spoke with them, a delivery of fresh bread, fruit, cold meats, pastries and steaming hot tea and coffee were delivered to his office. He spoke through mouthfuls of food, crumbs falling onto his ample belly. He was, outwardly, a Punch-cartoon of a bank manager, but he was clever and quick and knew all of his wealthy clients very well.

He also knew of the riskier ones.

And he certainly knew of Bablock Halifax.

“I’d never actually heard of the chap until a month ago,” Sir Henry informed them. “Then all of a sudden men started coming here, asking for him – I sent them away, of course. Told them I hadn’t heard of this fellow. Until then, Halifax himself turns up at a dinner. Charity thing, you know. Funds for missionaries in Africa. I can’t get out of attending that sort of thing and I know they only want me there to open my wallet.”

“Why was Halifax there?”

“He was one of those leeches. Oh I don’t mean a doctor – begging your pardon, Lord Calaway old bean! I mean, he’s a – he was a parasite, just hanging on to better men, but rather than absorbing their betterness by some kind of osmosis – or whatever it is, you tell me, Lord Calaway, you’re the man of science – anyway instead of getting better he just soaked up all the outward show of things. Like a leech. Got fat on vanity. Am I making sense?”

Theodore and Prendergast nodded.

“So then I knew why people had come to ask me about him. And they kept coming, those other men.”

“But what did they want with him?”

“Oh? Oh! Yes, I didn’t tell you. Sorry. Croissant, gentlemen? No, very well. Impossible to eat politely anyway, don’t know how the French do it. Tasty, though. Yes, these other men. Creditors, the lot of them. All clamouring for a jab at his funds! I told them, he has no funds, or at least, none that he banks here with me.

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