Page 78 of Her Duke in Shining Armor
A scarred hand rose to scratch at a ragged beard and his voice was as gnarly as his face, “Inside and up the ramp, guv, big ol’ office at the top. You can’t miss it.”
Nodding, Aaron went in and eyed the inside of the warehouse. He spotted dozens of wooden crates, large round barrels, and canvas sacks neatly stacked like-by-like as hedgerows along the walls. Passing by, he smelled the sweet aroma of sugars and then the nose-tingling prick of spices, the contrasting smells confusing his lungs.
Lively curses rang out and Aaron’s head snapped to the side to see a man jumping away from a splintered barrel of the rum but Aaron carried on to the ramp. He spotted an open door and came up to see a man, passed out on a couch with a rough woolen blanket wrapped securely around him. Aaron's eyes narrowed. If this was the type of inattention, no wonder his merchandise was getting misplaced.
“Mr. Mercer,” he said strongly.
The man did not budge and Aaron was losing his patience, “Mercer!”
He jerked up and ran a hand over his jaw, to wipe away his spittle. “Who calls?”
“The man who will make sure you go to prison if you do not have an explanation as to why the goods from Barvolt and Co, are missing,” Aaron snapped.
Fear painted the man’s face white and he darted up to his feet and tucked his shirttails into his pants. “My apologies, Your Grace.”
While flakes of the plaster moldings crumbled onto the scrubbed wooden floors, Aaron noticed that the office was sparsely furnished. Apart from the lumpy couch, a table and a few tottering stools, there was one discrepancy that clashed with the aged furnishings. A large, wingback chair with burgundy padding sat behind the desk.
Mercer’s eyes darted around the room, “Would you like to sit, Your Grace?”
“I would not,” Aaron said. “What I need from you is for you to tell me why ninety of my sugar casks are missing and thirty-five casks of my coffee are not accounted for.”
Sweat started to bead on the man’s brow and he dabbed at it with a handkerchief, “Well, Your Grace, this is a wharf, you know, things get broken and misplaced quite frequently.”
“And stolen or sold off to the black market,” Aaron added casually only to see more beads of sweat break out on his face.
“If any of my men are stealing I…I think I’d know that,” the overseer said.
“Right,” Aaron drawled. “Because you run such a tight ship here by dozing off in the middle of the day.”
Mercer’s eyes narrowed, “If you are impugning my honor as a merchant—”
“You could be lord protector himself reincarnated and in disguise and I would not care,” Aaron injected. “The only thing I need from you is to find who is stealing my goods or you will be thrown in jail. Do you understand me?”
“Jail is a little overboard, isn’t it?” Mercer asked.
Aaron took a moment to look at the man properly, from his drab brown suit to his fraying necktie and the indent in his waistcoat’s pocket where a timepiece would have regularly hung and knew the man’s state. “Are you in debt, Mercer?”
The man jerked like he had been jammed with a hot iron. “N-no, Your Grace.”
“Or is it blackmail?” Aaron pressed.
“I-I a-am…” the poor man stuttered so hard Aaron almost had mercy on him. Almost.
“Clearly under the hatches. Is it only my goods that you are hawking or are there others? Siphoning little by little, marking the stolen goods as broken or misplaced so you can sell them off, hm?” Aaron inquired.
Mercer squirmed more, “My good man, these accusations are—”
“Who is it?” Aaron demanded, “You can tell me now or confess to another magistrate who will not be nearly as understanding as I am, and note, with every passing moment, that patience slips away.”
“Your Grace,” Mercer was deathly scared now, “I…cannot dare tell. I fear for my life.”
“It is the Duke of Wyndrake, isn’t it?” Aaron’s voice was flat and felt his gut tighten when the man nodded.
Considering his options, Aaron ordered, “Get a piece of paper and write down everything Wyndrake made you do. I will have your confession now.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Mercer simpered.
And just as I was having my doubts, I have been proven right.
