Page 9 of Hold Me Fast
“I’ll get after him,” Bran said.
“Too late,” Jowan told him. “Look.”
The miscreant had a horse. How he’d managed to have it ready in time to escape, Jowan couldn’t guess, but he swung aboard, and kicked it into a trot, balancing the bag he had been carrying in front of him.
“Damn,” Bran commented.
*
They had astroke of luck after that. They were just trying to persuade the landlady to give them permission to search the room when several other men arrived, two of them obviously constables, and two of the men were familiar. The gentleman who led the way took one look at Jowan and Bran and greeted them.
“Trethewey and Hughes! I take it you are on the same mission as we are. Where is Thatcher?” It was Lord Andrew Winderfield, who had been tutoring in Central Asian History at Oxford when they were students. Lord Andrew had been the first to see Bran’s potential as a scholar.
“Thatcher is on a fast horse to somewhere else,” Bran said. “We arrived just in time to see him mount up and ride.”
“His landlady was just considering whether to let us search his room,” Jowan added.
“Madam,” said Lord Andrew. “These gentlemen have a warrant. Please show it to the good lady,” he added, to one of the constables. The man produced the warrant, and then two constables followed the landlady up the stairs, followed by two of the other men. Central Asian servants of Lord Andrew’s by the look of them.
He had had several of them following him around Oxford, too, one of whom was sometime valet, sometime partner, always friend. Jamir was as close to Lord Andrew as Bran was to Jowan and was even now at Lord Andrew’s shoulder. Jowan nodded to him in recognition.
“We think a man called Beckleston is in it, too,” Jowan said.
“He should be under arrest by now,” Lord Andrew told them. “Unless he, too, got nervous and ran. I wonder what tipped Thatcher off.” His eyes fixed on Oliver. “You are Beckleston’s clerk,” he commented.
“It wasn’t me, sir,” Oliver assured him. “Mr. Beckleston sent me to Mr. Thatcher after these two gentlemen called, but I agreed to help them after I left the building.”
“I stopped him in the back lane, and he switched sides,” Bran explained, “but I would not trust him as far as I can throw him.”
Oliver cast him a hurt look.
“We frightened them,” Jowan realized. “I am sorry, my lord. We spoiled your arrests.”
“Call me ‘Drew’,” said Lord Andrew. “Not to worry. We had men watching them both. They won’t get away, and they may lead us to others involved in the schemes they were running.” He paused before adding, “I hope they didn’t take you for much.”
Jowan groaned. “Only the future of the new mine that means security for my people, plus whatever it is going to take to pay off the investors they trapped,” he admitted. It was an impossibility. If he’d had the money to fund the venture, he’d not have sought investors in the first place.
Bran clasped his shoulder. “We’ll work it out.”
Drew was grinning. “It might not be as bad as you think,” he said. “The group of investors I belong to became suspicious of this pair a while ago, and have been gathering evidence to arrest them. Can I ask if the mine you’re talking about is the Wheal St Tetha?”
Jowan nodded.
“We agreed to invest to draw them out. We were to hand the money over today,” Drew told him. He shook his head. “It would have been the last nail in their coffin, but we have enough evidence without it. And it does mean you still have 90% of your investors, Trethewey. You’ll have to meet my group, of course, and convince them of the value of the proposition. We did our due diligence on what Thatcher had to say, but the vote was a foregone conclusion since we never intended Thatcher and his colleagues to still be in business to steal our money.”
From despair to elation in a moment. Jowan’s head was spinning. “Call me ‘Jowan’, Drew,” he managed.
“Bran,” his brother offered, even as he shot out a hand to stop Oliver, who was edging towards the door.
“Jowan and Bran, then. Do you have plans for Beckleston’s clerk?”
With one eye on the clerk, Jowan said, “He is, at the very least, a witness. Possibly a co-conspirator. He has, though, been very helpful since he agreed to abandon his employer. Not an arrest, I think. Is there a way to detain him without actually arresting him?”
“You could trust me to come when you ask?” Oliver sounded hopeful. “I only did what my employer told me. I am not a criminal, Sir Jowan, my lord.”
He sounded sincere, but Jowan was not such a fool as to believe him without proof.
“Good idea, Jowan,” Drew said. “We can manage a detainment, can we not, Jamir?”
