Heirs of Ravenscar

Charlie nodded. ‘As long as you handle him with kid gloves.’

‘I will, word of honour. And don’t tell him why I want to see him, let’s not alarm the man, make him think I want to blame him about Tabitha. Because I really don’t, I assure you of that.’

‘I can ask him as we’re leaving if he can dine with us tomorrow –’

‘I can’t tomorrow, Charlie,’ Amos interrupted. ‘As a matter of fact, I’m having supper with the Forths, you know, the couple who brought Grace Rose up. But apart from that, I’ve no other commitments, I’m free.’

‘Shall I suggest Friday?’

‘That suits me fine.’

‘And where should we go? Come back here? Or do you have a particular preference?’

‘We can go wherever you want, Charlie, pick any place you like, just so long as you understand I’m doing the inviting and I’m doing the paying.’

Charlie grinned. ‘Let’s have dinner here. It’s nice and convenient for me, and also for Cedric. He lives in Queen Street. With his sister, Rowena.’

‘I’ll book the table when we leave tonight. And remember, let’s keep this nice and easy, Charlie. He mustn’t know why.’

‘Mum’s the word.’

TEN (#)

‘I always know when it’s going to rain,’ Will Hasling said to Alfredo Oliveri. ‘My shoulder gives me hell.’

‘It’s the same for me, my arm feels as if it’s in a vice. Never mind – better to have aching wounds than be kicking up daisies in a foreign cemetery,’ Alfredo pointed out.

Will grinned. ‘Very true.’

The two of them had both suffered minor wounds in the Somme in 1917, and had been shipped home on a hospital ship, then treated at a military hospital in London. As soon as they could, both men had returned to work at Deravenels, and were extremely relieved to be safely back in their old jobs. They had worked with Edward since he had taken over the company in 1904, and were his key executives.

Alfredo paused just before they reached Edward’s office, and put his hand on Will’s arm, stared at him intently. ‘He’s not going to like what you’re about to reveal to him.’

‘You don’t have to tell me, I know that, and I’m going to suggest he deals with everything after Christmas, when George is back in London. Giving his brother a rollicking on the telephone won’t be effective. He’s got to dress George down face to face, don’t you think?’

‘I do,’ Alfredo replied, and sighed. ‘He hasn’t discussed the MacDonald situation at great length with me, but I’m making the assumption he’s a trifle indifferent to the deal.’

‘You’re right, as usual. For him it’s a take it or leave it deal. He’d like to own the liquor company, but if he doesn’t get it he won’t cry.’

‘It struck me earlier that he might have set a trap for his difficult little brother. If George blows the liquor business out of the water he’s in trouble, and most certainly can then be demoted. What say you?’

Will began to laugh. The Italian part of you is certainly quite Machiavellian, Oliveri. I mustn’t forget that.’

Alfredo merely smiled, and walked on down the corridor. He stopped at Edward’s office, knocked, then walked in, followed by Will Hasling.

Edward was hanging up the phone. ‘Morning, you chaps!’ he exclaimed cheerfully when he saw them, an affectionate look crossing his face. He had worried about these two men so much during the war, filled with fear for their safety, and had vowed to cherish them for the rest of their lives when they came back.

‘I know you’ve got to go and see a man about a dog,’ Will began, ‘but I’ve something I need to talk with you about.’

Edward chuckled. ‘I am indeed going to see a man about a dog. Or I was. However, because of my work here today I’ve asked Mrs Shaw to go to Harrods to pick out a Westie for Young Edward, and she agreed to do it.’

Alfredo began to laugh, suddenly realizing the play on an old and very familiar saying. ‘Will you take the dog with you to Yorkshire tomorrow?’ he asked. ‘You can ship it, you know, that’s no problem.’

‘So Mrs Shaw told me, and that is how it will travel … in a van, by road, special delivery for Master Edward Deravenel from Harrods. He’ll love it because he’ll feel very important.’ Leaning forward, he now asked, ‘So, Will, why are you here?’ He glanced at Alfredo. ‘And you, Oliveri? You’re both standing there with such glum faces I’m assuming that you’re about to deliver bad news.’ Edward, looking very handsome in a dark blue Savile Row suit and cornflower-blue tie, sat back in his chair, his eyes focused on his executives. ‘And for God’s sake sit down, the two of you. You might as well be comfortable when you give me the dire news.’

‘You assume correctly,’ Will said. ‘It’s about George. He’s in trouble.’

‘How unusual,’ Edward said in a sardonic voice. ‘What’s he done now? I know he can’t have killed my deal with Ian MacDonald because that meeting is not until tomorrow.’

‘That’s so,’ Will agreed, and went on, ‘You’re about to get hit with his gambling debts, and Amos can fill you in better than I can about those. But the gossip is rampant, all over town, so Howard tells me.’

‘Gambling debts! Why am I going to get hit with them, for God’s sake? He can bloody well pay his own gambling debts,’ Edward exclaimed, his voice rising angrily.

‘Let me start at the beginning,’ Will said. ‘A few days ago my brother told me there was gossip out on the street about George’s gambling, whoring, and drug-taking –’

‘He’s taking drugs?’ Edward shouted, his face turning red as the fury erupted. Although he was blessed with an affable nature and was calm most of the time, Edward did have a famous temper that struck terror in everyone. ‘I’ll have his guts for garters!’ he shrilled, jumping up, his temper getting the better of him. ‘And why does he have debts in the first place? I’ll skin him alive, the little sod! Bringing dishonour to our name. Agentleman takes care of his obligations, and he’s well aware of that.’

‘You know what George is,’ Oliveri murmured softly. ‘And I have a suggestion to make …’ Oliveri paused, staring hard at Edward.

‘Go on, then, tell me,’ Edward snapped, and immediately shook his head. ‘I’m very sorry, Oliveri, I’m not angry with you. Do excuse me.’ He sat down.

‘Don’t have to explain, I understand. Getting back to the bad lad, I think we should send him off on a few trips, get him out of London, and away from all the temptations of the flesh, etcetera.’ Alfredo sat back, eyeing Edward, his expression serious.

‘Where can we send him?’ Will asked, glancing at Alfredo swiftly, frowning.

‘First of all, if the deal with Ian MacDonald proceeds, he can take charge of it, and he’ll be back and forth to Edinburgh for quite a while. Otherwise, he can go to Spain, which was neutral during the war: travel is still relatively easy. He could look into the Jimenez situation. They do want to sell their sherry business, remember.’ His gaze still fixed on Will, Alfredo finished, ‘They make the best sherry in the world, let’s not forget that.’

‘George certainly won’t,’ Edward interjected. ‘I should think he’ll jump at a job like that. But it’s a good idea, keeping him travelling, I mean. But what’s this about drugs, Will? And what is he taking?’

‘Howard didn’t know, but he’s promised to find out for me. I suspect it’s either cocaine, or possibly he visits those opium dens in Chinatown, down Limehouse way.’

‘Bloody fool!’ Edward shook his head, stood up again, paced for a moment, and then he addressed Will. ‘You said Amos has investigated all this, knows more.’

‘He does. I spoke to him earlier. I’d asked him to do a bit of digging for me yesterday, and he did find out a few things last night. I told him to come in around ten thirty –’ Will stopped at the sound of a loud knock on the door. ‘I’m sure this is him.’

‘No doubt,’ Edward agreed, and called out, ‘Come in!’

‘Good morning,’ Amos said to the room at large; they greeted him in return. Hurrying over to the desk, he waited until Edward was seated behind it before taking the empty chair at the other side.

‘What did you find out?’ Edward asked.

‘The promissory notes are held by three clubs. Starks, The Rosemont, and the Gentleman’s Club. Starks is owed the most money, and Julian Stark is personally holding the notes. I heard last night from one of my contacts that he is going to come and see you himself, to demand payment.’

‘Is he now? Well, we must forestall him. He’s a big gossip. Do you know how much my brother owes Stark?’

Amos nodded. ‘I do. Thirty thousand pounds.’

Edward was flabbergasted, and his face paled. ‘What an idiot he is!’ he cried, his rage surfacing.