The Sign of Death (Victorian Book Club Mystery 2)
Page 74
“Leave them alone, my lord.”
CHAPTER 24
William looked up as his butler, Madison, entered the library, where he was struggling to make sense of his finances.
“My lord, Mr. Frank Wilson has arrived.”
“Send him in.” He’d been employing Wilson ever since Harding died. His new man of business came highly recommended by Lord Winchester, among others, and William actually felt sorry for the poor man on account of the financial tangle he was having to unravel for him.
“Good morning, my lord.” Wilson strode into the room and extended his arm.
William stood, and they shook hands. “Have a seat.”
Wilson settled in and placed a portfolio on the desk in front of him. He took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. “My lord, you are in a mess.”
“Tell me something I do not already know.” William sighed. “What I’m anxious to find out is, can I recover my good name?”
“Absolutely.”
The man’s confident assurance went a long way toward easing William’s anxiety. “I am happy to hear that and am willing to do whatever you think is necessary to clear up this dilemma.”
Wilson pulled a pile of papers out of his portfolio. “One thing I discovered in my efforts to unravel all of this is most likely the reason Mr. Harding went from a reputable man of business to a thief.”
That certainly got William’s attention. “Pray tell.”
“Apparently Mr. Harding chose a very risky investment for a few of his clients.”
“Indeed?”
“Yes. You were one of the investors, as were two others.”
William had a good idea who those other investors were: Lemmon and Montrose. “He never said anything to me about that.”
“Just so.” Wilson studied the paper in front of him. “Rather than advising these clients, it seems, in an effort to recoup his losses, he began taking money from other clients and using it to gamble.”
“Gamble?”
“Yes. In order to keep it as quiet as possible, he made trips to London for that purpose.”
William shook his head. “Only a foolish man attempts to make money on gambling.”
“From what I’ve discovered, he got deeper and deeper into trouble, and dipped once more into your account and then pulled some other shenanigans which are just now coming to light. It was only a matter of time before his nefarious deeds became known.”
It crossed William’s mind that perhaps Harding had not been pushed into the river but had gotten himself drunk on purpose and taken a dive. It would not be the first time a man had done such a thing to escape a bad situation.
“Thank you very much for that information, Wilson. Now I suggest we look at how bad things are and what we can do to correct it.”
* * *
It was Tuesday evening, and as the carriage made its way to Amy’s house, William patted his pocket, where he did, in fact, carry a gun. Even though he’d told his mother he didn’t have one and constantly thwarted Amy’s intention to buy one, he did have two pistols locked away in his library.
However, unlike the ladies, who thought they could pick up a gun and shoot anyone who threatened them dead center, he had spent years practicing and was quite confident in his skill.
At least he would not shoot himself in the foot.
On the way home from the Assembly Saturday, William had made one final effort to convince Amy not to accompany him to the pub. But she had been stubborn and adamant.
“We can bring a gun,” she’d said.