The Revenge of Captain Paine (49 page)

‘I can well understand how you must be worried half to death at the moment and, believe me, no one wants to help you more than I do. But have you really thought about this? That’s to say, is it what you really want? You see, Pyke, I’d rather hoped we might work together. My reasons are selfish, I know, but as the years pass and my age catches up with me, I’ve started to look for suitable candidates to take over from me at Gore’s and I have to say no one has really excited me. I rather thought you were different.’

‘You had considered
me
as a candidate to take over from you at Gore’s when you retire?’ Pyke tried to feign both amazement and enthusiasm. He didn’t know whether he’d done a good job or not.

‘I thought you were a man cut from the same cloth as me,’ Gore replied, sounding injured and self-righteous.

‘But not any more?’ Pyke asked, fighting the urge to reach into Gore’s mouth and rip out his tongue.

‘Do you really think that when I was your age, I would have sold out my interest in Gore’s?’

‘Then we’re perhaps not as alike as you imagined we were.’

Gore studied him for a moment, his eyes narrowed to slits. ‘I’d say you’re a rather complex man, Pyke. Relentlessly self-interested and oddly principled. Until now, I’d been hoping your better self might win the day.’

‘And that would be?’

‘Misguided principles have led many a good man to ruin.’

This time Pyke let a little of his anger show. ‘And is the love of one’s family such a principle?’ He thought about Jackman, nailed to the crucifix, and the others who’d been killed, too.

‘A man’s place is in the public realm. That’s where his reputation and fortune are earned. And lost.’

‘So you’re intimating that my decision to want to sell my share in Blackwood’s is misguided?’

Gore turned from him and gazed out across the construction site. ‘In its own way, it’s rather beautiful, isn’t it? Mark my words. It won’t be long before our poets are writing about scenes like this rather than mountains and lakes.’

Pyke laughed bitterly. ‘I don’t think human exploitation will ever be celebrated as an aesthetic achievement.’ The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself. He waited to see how Gore would react.

‘I look down there and I see admittedly coarse specimens who are, nevertheless, being assimilated into the workforce. Is that such an evil? A year ago, many of these men would have qualified for poor relief. Now they’ve learned to sell their labour at the marketplace and they’re earning a fair wage dictated by the forces of supply and demand. And in the process, they’re helping to build something that will change everyone’s lives for ever.’

Pyke allowed himself a quiet sigh. He would have to be more careful. His slip had unnecessarily alerted Gore’s suspicions. ‘I’m sure you’re right. But I didn’t come here today to debate the undoubted merits of your railway.’

‘No, you came to try and sell me your entire stake in Blackwood’s.’ Gore studied his expression.

‘If you wanted a third, then why not extend your stake to two-thirds? The bank’s a very profitable enterprise.’

‘I don’t doubt it.’

‘So what’s the problem?’

‘The problem?’ Gore looked at him. ‘Who said there was a problem?’

‘You don’t seem to be particularly keen on the revised terms I’m offering you.’

‘Perhaps you’re right,’ Gore murmured, scratching his chin. ‘Can I be blunt with you, Pyke?’

‘By all means.’

‘A man of your mettle doesn’t simply walk away when things get difficult and his problems mount up.’

‘Is that what you think I’m doing?’

Gore eyed him cautiously. ‘It looks very much like that.’

‘What’s happened in the last few weeks has made me reassess my priorities. Let’s just say your initial offer came at an opportune moment.’

‘Then it’s to be my fault the world of commerce loses one of its brightest stars?’

A brief silence lingered between them. Pyke tried not to think about how Gore had used and betrayed him and how ruthlessly he had exploited his perceived friendship with Morris. ‘So does that mean we have an agreement?’ Pyke tried to inject a degree of hope into his voice.

‘I think you’re a fool but yes, we have an agreement.’ They shook hands but there was suddenly no warmth in Gore’s actions. Briefly Pyke wondered whether Gore already suspected that he knew about his complicity in Jackman’s death.

If so, it meant Pyke would have to tread very carefully. It wasn’t just a question of getting his hands on Gore’s money. That was simply a means to an end.

‘Now it’s just a matter of agreeing a schedule for the exchange of contracts,’ Pyke said, trying to appear calm, when all he wanted to do was squeeze Gore’s neck with his hands.

‘I see no reason for delaying the matter.’

‘Nor I.’ Pyke even managed a smile. ‘In fact, I’d be happy to proceed as quickly as possible.’

‘What if I were to instruct my lawyers to draw up the contracts today? You could join me at my office later this afternoon and sign them then.’

‘In principle, it sounds perfectly acceptable,’ Pyke said, working out a way to turn the situation further to his advantage. ‘The only problem is whether you could arrange for the money to be transferred into my bank account by then.’

That seemed to throw Gore off his stride, as it was meant to.

‘Of course,’ Pyke added quickly, ‘if you opened an account for me at Gore’s and credited my balance to the tune of a hundred thousand pounds, I could sign the necessary paperwork this afternoon.’

The suspicion seemed to return to Gore’s eyes. ‘It’s a slightly odd request but one that could be accommodated.’

‘So we have a deal?’ Pyke held out his hand again.

This time Gore took a little longer to shake it. The sun was directly in his eyes and he held up his hand to shield them from its glare. ‘I’m disappointed not to have you as my business partner,’ he said, gravely, ‘but it goes without saying I’ll continue to work round the clock to try and get to the bottom of this despicable business involving your wife and child. Who knows? Perhaps I’ll have more news for you when you come to my office this afternoon. Shall we say four? That should give my lawyers plenty of time to draw up the necessary contracts.’

But Gore wasn’t quite finished with Pyke. Turning to him, he indicated the construction site and added, ‘They look like tiny ants, don’t they? Do you imagine for one second that if a terrible accident was to befall one of them, if someone was to drop dead right in front of our eyes, I would lose any sleep over it?’ Blinking, he continued to gaze out at the landscape before them. ‘A sense of perspective is sometimes needed, don’t you think?’

Pyke watched Gore as he strolled back to rejoin the two surveyors and wondered whether he knew more about Emily’s and Felix’s abduction than he was letting on. Could he trust anything at all the man said or did? And had Gore already implicitly grasped the changed nature of their association?

At least Pyke knew why Gore wanted to buy a stake in his bank. The committee of the Grand Northern Railway was due to meet early in the following week to appoint a new chairman and discuss future plans for the troubled venture. As Blackwood’s was one of the railway’s major creditors, a nominated figure from the bank would be allowed to sit on the committee and, as Morris had suggested at the outset, would be given three votes on any substantial issues. In a potentially tight contest, these votes could make all the difference.

But according to Gore’s initial terms, Pyke could have retained a fifty-one per cent stake in Blackwood’s and therefore taken this position for himself. The question remained therefore: what did Gore know that he didn’t?

Perhaps William Blackwood himself would have some answers.

An hour or so later, Pyke found Blackwood sitting at the writing table in his office, stacking papers into neat piles. It was an orderly room with papered walls and varnished, grained oak furniture, a black marble fireplace and a clock ticking on the mantelpiece. Blackwood looked up at Pyke, his expression betraying surprise and fear. Nervously, he went to arrange a stray hair on his balding pate. Pyke closed the door and sat down. He waited for Blackwood to look at him and said, ‘You needn’t be afraid. I haven’t come to harm you. I just want to talk about our recent
difficulties
.’

Blackwood glanced over at the door. ‘You do know if the police find you, they’ll arrest you on sight.’

‘Very soon, I’ll be the least of your worries.’

‘In what sense?’

‘I want to know whether you took the loan papers from the vault.’ Pyke hesitated. ‘It’s a simple question and I’d like a straightforward answer.’

‘Of course I didn’t. To be honest, I thought you’d made the whole thing up, just to defraud the bank of the money.’ The indignation on Blackwood’s face appeared genuine.

‘William, William.’ Pyke sighed. ‘Where did it all go wrong? For a few years we were a good team.’ He looked around the room. It was odd to think that this would be his last time in the building.

When Blackwood didn’t speak, Pyke tapped his fingers on the polished surface of the writing table. ‘And that’s why you brought in this lawyer, Herries?’

Blackwood nodded.

‘And no one prompted you to do it, had a quiet word in your ear, a few firm words of encouragement?’

Pyke studied Blackwood’s expression carefully; in the end it was a slight twitch of the eyelid which gave his partner away. The indignation was gone, too. He was trying to give the impression he didn’t know what Pyke was talking about, but his denial struck a hollow note.

Pyke pulled his chair a little closer to the table and said, ‘I’ve agreed to sell my share of the bank to an interested party. It’s something I thought you had a right to know.’

Blackwood licked his lips and mopped his forehead with a handkerchief. ‘Do I get to find out who I’m to be sold to?’

‘I think you already know the answer to that question.’

‘How on earth would I know?’

‘Initially Abraham Gore just wanted a third share of the bank. I proposed to retain a fifty-one per cent stake, which in effect would’ve meant selling Gore fifteen per cent of my stock and forcing you to relinquish, let’s say, eighteen per cent of your holdings. But you see, even if you voted with Gore, this would only have given him forty-eight or forty-nine per cent of the bank. I’d still retain overall control. What I can’t work out is why he only wanted a third of the bank and why, when I offered to sell him my entire share, he didn’t leap at the chance with both hands. Do you understand my predicament?’

Blackwood fidgeted in his chair, not answering for a while. ‘Are you suggesting I’ve somehow been conspiring with this man behind your back?’

‘I’ve paid a man to follow you, William. You were seen having lunch with Gore a few days ago.’ Townsend had confirmed this when Pyke had last spoken to him.

Blackwood started to say something but Pyke stood up and held up his hand. ‘You miss my point. I’m not interested in listening to your explanations. But you
will
hear from me soon enough and, when that time comes, you’ll wish you’d made a different decision when Gore first approached you.’

‘I didn’t take those papers from the vault,’ Blackwood said, almost pleadingly.

‘That’s not the question I asked.’

‘I don’t know anything about Abraham Gore. I had lunch with him. That was all. You have to believe me.’

Pyke left the room without turning around or saying another word. It would be the last time he ever saw William Blackwood.

 
Pyke found Milly curled up on the bed, staring at the wall. He had just returned to Hambledon from the city and his afternoon appointment with Gore; the contracts had all been signed and Pyke was no longer the majority partner in Blackwood’s bank. He wasn’t sure whether this was something to be celebrated or mourned.

On his way up to Milly’s room, Jo had told him that, even by her standards, Milly had gone into a decline and hadn’t taken any food or water in more than a day. Pyke shut the door behind him, opened the curtains and waited for the girl to turn around and face him. He sat down on the edge of the bed. ‘I’ve been told you’re refusing to eat or drink anything. Is that right, Milly?’

Her small, quick eyes glowed in the half-light but still she refused to look at him, let alone speak.

‘Can I tell you a story, Milly? Would that be all right?’

This time she looked at him and gave him a curt nod of her head.

‘I never knew my mother and my father died when I was about the same age as you. I was there when he died too. There was this vast sea of faces and he lost his footing and was crushed under people’s feet. I remember that feeling, when the crowd dispersed, and I found his body. It wasn’t moving. I knew he was dead. I don’t know if I cried or not but I do remember holding my breath, closing my eyes and counting to ten, then twenty, thirty, forty, fifty even. Somehow I thought if I held my breath long enough or counted hard enough it would bring him back. Of course it never did but later, when I went to live with my uncle and I couldn’t sleep, I’d lie there and count the different things I’d seen or done since he died and somehow that helped me. It made me see that, whether I liked it or not, things moved on. Life moved on. I still thought about him, and about the day he died, but I thought about other things, as well. And I learned how to take care of myself.’ Pyke waited for a moment and then added, gently, ‘That’s the most important lesson a boy or a girl can learn. If I helped you at first, would you like to learn how to take care of yourself, Milly?’

She was staring at him but managed a slight nod.

‘Would you like to come with me on a trip to the seaside, Milly? Would you like to see the English Channel?’

Again she nodded, this time a little more vigorously. She may even have smiled, too.

‘Now shut your eyes, hold your breath and count to ten.’