wrog

Compromising correspondence

Matt looked across his desk to the fashionable young man opposite – Mr Phineas Taskerville, that had been a hanger-on of Blatchett’s set, but had lately been showing rather cool towards him. Matt sighed a little inwardly – wondered did priests sometimes feel thus in the confessional?

Here was a tale that he had been hearing rather oft of late – perchance not quite the same, but much the like in its essentials. Here was a young chap had been enjoying the favours of another man’s wife or mistress – lord, did no young men these days practise the discretion that had kept Geoffrey Merrett, that well-known consoler of neglected wives, out of the exposure of a crim.con. action? – and came to him about certain letters of a most indiscreet nature.

There was Mr Taskerville, had expectations from a wealthy and pious aunt, that were these disclosed to her would not only cut off her habitual generous gifts at appropriate seasons but doubtless leave her fortune in due course to some missionary enterprize. Alternatively, the scandalmongers had it that Sir Francis Whibsall and his lady were at outs and Sir Francis might well show generous for evidence towards bringing a crim. con.

Matt gave the young man a benevolent and reassuring smile, saying that they would look into the matter – might require additional information once they had, but Mr Taskerville might be confident the business was in good hands.

The latter rose, blushing and mumbling that he had heard a deal of good reports of the Johnson agency’s ability and discretion in dealing with similar problems.

As he left, Matt pulled over and opened the ledger so that he might record that the interview had took place on this day, and then took a sheet of paper to make the more confidential notes. This accomplished, he stepped out of the office to go into Ginevra Frinton’s filing room, where his prime operatives were wont to gather and gossip.

Excellent: there was Hacker, that was exactly the one that he would desire in a matter of this kind, and he requested that she might step into his office.

Once she was seated opposite him he opened the case to her.

Ah. Another one – do we apprehend that there is one particular chap that is making quite the business of it? Mayhap goes about bribing maids and valets – or finding somewhat to threaten 'em with – to get his hands on compromising correspondence.

I think you hit it off very just! This is no common instance of a discharged valet going be vengeful.

They looked at one another.

Hacker flexed her clever fingers. Might one find his hide-out – for I fancy is not the like to hire a bank-box to keep his trove in –

Can one find him first! – hah, suppose I put it to Taskerville that he arranges to meet the fellow, to say he does not have the sum immediate about him –

I doubt he does, he lately did very badly on the turf!

– and must thus go raise the ready, but has that in hand with his bank – and we have watchers about that might follow him when he leaves –

Dickie goes about to become very adept in that matter. And, she continued, a thought strikes me that I may have a way to come at this matter of suborning of valets.

It had been quite the happiest day when he had been persuaded to take on a former pupil of the noted ken-cracker Laffen! Here was Hacker had a deal of skills and quite the nicest insights – made very useful acquaintance –

Why, go to’t! Now, you might send in Frinton, is she not too occupied at the moment.

A few hours later, Matt was just stepping back from taking a glass of ale and a plate of bread and ham at the Lord Nelson, when Dickie quite burst out into the hallway saying, there was an Irishman had come very desirous of an interview with Mr Johnson about a matter of grave importance.

Matt, bestowing his stick in the stand and his hat upon the hook, said he dared say 'twas yet another fellow had had a female relative beguiled into matrimony by the scoundrel O’Neill!

But it turned out to be a different matter concerning the tangled affairs of Miles O’Neill and the womenfolk that became embroiled with him.

The fellow was clearly in some prosperous line of business – handed over his card – one Rory Sullivan of Cork –

They had been in brewing and distilling this age, and here was a bottle of their excellent whiskey as an earnest of their quality for Mr Johnson –

Why, that is a very thoughtful thing, and I daresay 'tis not too early in the day to invite you to join me in a small glass?

So he took the glasses from the cupboard – there was not infrequent occasion to provide a client with a drop or so of reviving brandy! – and poured out, and praised the liquor, and enquired about Mr Sullivan’s journey to Town, &C, and thus proceeded to his reasons for coming here.

Mr Sullivan was a cousin of Lady Wauderkell, that he understood had been quite cleared of any imputation of murder or assault – had supposed that she would at last have retired to her old home, but they had seen naught of her, and had no direction where they might write to discover what had become of her –

Had Mr Sullivan not heard of Lord Fendersham’s determined pursuit of the lady? Or perchance did not wish to apply to such a rigidly Evangelical peer.

Why, said Matt, I am given to understand that she goes undertake a retreat at a convent in Sussex.

Mr Sullivan praised the Blessed Virgin and crossed himself. That is quite the finest news! Would write to the good sisters – dared say there was a Mother Superior that he should address himself to –

Quite so, said Matt, I may find that out betimes.

Mr Sullivan became confidential. It was the matter of the lawsuit over the family business – when cousin Juliana had become so besotted with that wretch Wauderkell they were very loathe to let him get his fingers into her share – would be an entire leech – so they concocted legal proceedings that would cast doubt on whether she had entitlement to any portion – wagering on the likelihood that he was not a fellow that was going to linger about Cork or even stay in Ireland to pursue the case – and there was Jule already selling her little verses and tales, very remunerative –

But now we had rather bring the matter to a comfortable compromise and is she a widow we are a deal less troubled! – why, she might take the veil – would provide her a handsome dowry – or here is Connor O’Reilly, ever had a notion to her, has been a widower some three or more years – has waxed quite tearful over her straits –

Matt nodded and said, did Mr Sullivan indite his direction in Town on his card, would send there as soon as he had the intelligence.

Mr Sullivan departed with effusive gratitude.

Matt supposed that Lady W would be required to give testimony when this matter of O’Neill’s bigamy came to court – they were still awaiting the evidence from Chicago – but sure it would be a happy resolution did she disappear to her natal shores.

That e’en he went dine with Dumaine, that had become quite the regular custom with 'em, for a most useful exchange of intelligence and gossip. There was a deal of mutual benefit – Dumaine still found the services of Leda Hacker in her guise as Babsie Bolton of immeasurable value in the detection of false play at the tables, by the patrons of the establishment, and alas, occasionally by the house dealers. But had also been able to put business in the agency’s way, and to provide information of considerable use to its investigations.

So after they had dined, and were enjoying a glass of very fine brandy and cigars – have quite lately come upon a new supplier, does very well – Dumaine grinned and remarked that he was exceeding glad that Saythingport had decided to drag his heir about the races.

Matt lifted his eyebrows.

I was in some concern that I would have to drop some words that it might come about to having to bar him from my doors – there have been quarrels which did not quite turn into brawls, and I was not hopeful that peace would be preserved – but I fancy His Lordship observed the matter himself and decided to cool his head in fresher airs. So they are not lately about and thus neither is the Delgado bitch.

Dumaine stood, and said, would just take a peep out at the observation port to see that all was well down below – hoped would not have to attend personally until later –

He went to draw aside the panel that concealed a window onto the public premises of the club.

Good lord, there is Iffling, with Marabelle on his arm, brings his brother-in-law, that is a complete contrast to Talshaw, and his friends from Oxford, to see somewhat of high life, well, they will have somewhat to boast of in their college!

Matt went over to peer over Dumaine’s shoulder. And there is Blatchett –

Blatchett and Mortimer Chellow that clings to his side like a shadow! Well, I see no-one has actually gone give him the cut by getting up from the table he has sat down at, but they do not show welcoming. Though he was ever a poor hand at cards – at least one need not fear cogging, does not have the intellect for it –

What about Chellow, though? said Matt, knowing somewhat of the tales about the Hackwold Incident.

Dumaine snorted. O, he has brains enough, but he is fly enough not to try any sharp play here, where he knows there is scrutiny – would be another story at private parties, with the other players well in their cups.