Chapter Five
Surprisingly tired, Lucas found himself swept into the throng heading to the foyer to claim their belongings before hopping into their aethercoach and heading for their homes.
He couldn’t help noticing the looks; it was to be expected from those who recognised him, and he responded with brief, noncommittal nods.
Those who didn’t know who he was, but were curious, were ignored.
Several ladies offered friendly smiles, several offered smiles that were obviously a great deal more than ‘friendly’.
He sighed, turning away at the earliest possible moment and heading for a corridor which would lead him to Alastair’s study. The faces might have changed, but the ritual remained the same. Thank God for the quiet, the sound of departing guests banished to the background.
A laugh came from an open door. “Indeed, Alastair. Together we have indeed worked some magic tonight. But I could not have done it without you.”
Lucas stopped short. The smooth tones, the tiny touch of exhaustion, and the affection for their host—he could hear all of that in her voice. It was Verity. He was as sure of that as he’d ever been of anything at all.
And within moments she emerged, carrying a large bag filled with donations.
“Oh...”
She stumbled a little, and he hurried forward, catching one or two envelopes as they fell from the bag she clutched in her arms.
“Careful,” he admonished, tucking them back with the others. “Valuable cargo here, I would guess.”
“Thank you,” she answered, her voice calm. “Yes, it is valuable indeed.”
“Your own charity, I understand?” Why he kept talking, he had no idea, but he couldn’t have stopped for anything.
“It is, yes.” She blinked, then—as if realising that was rather abrupt—nodded. “I sponsor something called the Yardley House. It is being refurbished and will provide health care for Arcvale’s youngest and most impoverished.”
Lucas nodded, watching the expressions cross her face. “And you manage the funds, I understand? Your speech indicated that the financial organization is in your hands?”
At that, her chin went up. “That is correct. I discovered many years ago that I have an affinity for numbers.”
“To the surprise of many, I would guess.”
A brief smile lit her features, charming Lucas to his boots. “You’d be correct.”
“Ah,” he murmured. “Yes. You and numbers. An intriguing memory. Well...I mustn’t keep you. Congratulations on your success, both tonight and with your financial affairs.”
“Thank you,” she replied simply. “Forgive me, but are you looking for Mr Pembroke’s office? There’s little else down this way to interest a guest.”
“I am indeed. Alastair and I are old friends.”
“Ah. I see. You’ll find him just down there. First door on your left.” She nodded in that direction.
As Lucas was about to thank her, Julian appeared at the end of the corridor and hurried to Verity’s side.
“Come on, sweetheart. Give me that damn bag. It’s far too heavy for a sprite like you.”
“Hah,” she laughed. “Last time we met, you called me an elephant, if you recall.”
“You were treading on my maps, if I recall...” His cheerful chuckle made even Lucas smile.
“Then I’ll beg your pardon again, and accept your offer.
Here.” Laughing, she unceremoniously dumped her bag into his waiting arms, then turned to Lucas.
“It was a pleasure to renew our acquaintance, Sir Lucas.” She nodded regally at him.
“I must now get this extremely important bag into my aethercoach.” She glanced at Julian.
“Think we can manage it without dropping it all over the place?”
“Probably not,” he grinned, “but we’ll give it a go.” He glanced at Lucas. “I’ll be in touch. You’re at the Cottage?”
“Indeed yes. I’ll look forward to it.” Lucas watched as the two of them settled the bag and envelopes. “Good luck.”
Verity turned back, and for one moment she shot him a soft smile that could well have set his breeches on fire if she’d done it for more than two seconds.
Then they were gone.
Turning towards Alastair’s study, he took a long deep breath. His business was important, and he didn’t need any distractions. Especially one with a pair of misty grey eyes and a waist a man could easily span with both hands...
*~~*~~*
It wasn’t difficult to discern that Alastair’s study was his—for want of a better word—nest.
Beautiful furniture, bookcases, cabinets, and a desk to make anyone’s mouth water, all arranged just where they should be. And all their flat surfaces held either books or papers, with the occasional pen abandoned among them.
Navy blue velvet curtains, closed now against the night, covered the curved bow windows, and made Lucas wonder what the view was like in daylight.
Since the door was open, he tapped. “Hello? Alastair?”
The older man’s head appeared from behind a plinth, dark shining wood topped by a marble bust of Cassian Morholt. His Principles of Ordered Exchange had laid the foundations of Arcvale’s financial system, generations ago. His expression was as serene as the architect himself.
“Come in, Lucas. Come in.” He pushed a few papers off a chair or two. “Yes, it’s a mess in here, but it’s my mess, and I know where everything is.” He paused, a slight frown creasing his brow. “Would that mean it’s actually not a mess?”
Lucas chuckled. “I haven’t a clue. But if you’re happy with it...”
“I am.” He nodded to the desk. “Come, sit. We have matters to discuss, don’t we?” Seating himself behind the desk, Alastair settled comfortably, leaning back a little and watching Lucas as he took the chair on the opposite side, and nodded.
“Your letters have been most valuable, you know,” he said.
“Learning that you’re seeing the same things that I am, even though we’re in two different places?
Most revealing and—although it sounds silly—reassuring.
” He frowned. “At first, I couldn’t put my finger on it, which was damned irritating.
After all, I designed the damn thing. It shouldn’t have developed oddities.
“It’s concerning me, lad. Deeply.”
“Yes, I agree.” Lucas leaned forward. “Have you noticed anything new since our last correspondence?”
“I have,” he sighed. “But...for some ridiculous reason, I don’t seem to be able to put my finger on the exact spot where something blows the cogs out of alignment.
” Shaking his head, he shuffled a paper or two, and withdrew one, passing it across the desk.
“This was just last week. If you review the fourth column, you’ll see that those accounts balance.
But...but oddly. Oddly enough to make my ears itch. ”
Lucas frowned at the paper. “Hmm.”
“And then there is this report on returns, I obtained yesterday. They’re slightly lower than expected. In and of itself, that isn’t anything remarkable, but...”
“But...” Lucas glanced up. “It contributes to the puzzle.”
“Exactly.” Alastair leaned back and sighed. “Hearing you say that is certainly reassuring. At my age? Well, I’m learning that I’m no longer the brightest spark in the furnace.”
“You are the brightest light in the damn financial Forge, Alastair. I’ll hear no more of that nonsense.” He looked at the paper again. “Do you have these reports for...say...two or three months ago?”
“I do, yes. Actually they’re in the cabinet behind you. Second drawer, third or fourth file, I believe.”
Lucas couldn’t help a chuckle. “Not the brightest spark in the furnace, huh?” He withdrew the file and held it up. “That won’t grease the gears, Alastair.”
The older man brushed Lucas’s comment aside with a shrug. “Well, nevertheless...” He lifted his chin at the papers Lucas held. “In there, you’ll see...well, I’ll let you make your own opinion.”
Silence fell for a few moments, broken only by the crackling of the logs in the fireplace.
Then Lucas looked up. “Alastair, I’m starting to see a pattern here.”
“Hmmm.”
“It’s not obvious, which perhaps is why you couldn’t put your finger on it, but it’s there.
Look at this...” He turned the sheet toward Alastair and pointed to several lines.
“At first glance, all these numbers look very much as they’re supposed to.
All the transactions would seem to be quite routine. But...”
“I’m not sure what I’m looking for,” replied Alastair. “As you said, they seem to be within normal parameters...”
“They seem to be, yes.” Lucas sighed. “But there’s a pattern, there, Alastair. You can barely notice it. I’m probably seeing it because I built the whole damn system, but I’ll wager that if you spend half an hour with these numbers, looking at them from a fresh perspective, you’ll see what I mean.”
Once more the room quietened as Alastair frowned at the paper in his hand, narrowing his eyes and focussing intently on what he saw.
Then he looked up, an expression of irritation on his face. “By God, Lucas. You’re right. I couldn’t put my finger on it.”
“I’m not surprised. It’s subtle. Clever and subtle. And it’s being done very carefully.”
“Here...” Alastair tapped a line. “These numbers have been rounded down. And here as well. Such small fractions I missed it entirely. And...” he picked up a couple more sheets, “here...look here...the timing of these transactions has been shifted...”
“Thus accruing profits elsewhere,” agreed Lucas.
“Damn, my friend. Just damn...”
“No single account has been damaged enough to trigger any kind of alarm,” Lucas’s voice was chilly. “It’s not theft, it’s more like erosion. But put together? Alastair, Arcvale’s financial system...my financial system...the one that’s grown from my PBIC, it’s bleeding the city, drop by drop.”
Alastair digested that comment, his face betraying his concern as the magnitude of what was happening now, and what it could lead to, became clearer. He leaned back, steepling his fingers.
“If this continues unchecked,” he said slowly, “the first people to feel it won’t be the investors, or the Exchange.”
Lucas looked up with a slight frown. “No?”
“No. It will be the Forge. Delayed materials, adjusted wages, production that no longer quite adds up,” he met Lucas’s eyes. “And if anyone is going to notice the slightest irregularity...” He didn’t finish the sentence.
As far as Lucas was concerned, he didn’t need to.
He exhaled slowly as he accepted that yes, Silas would see it. “There’s no other way, is there?”
Alastair shook his head. “No, lad. There’s no other way.”