Back in the ring to take another swing.
"So they are here then?"
"Yes, sir. I was able to board the same train, and I saw them both boarding and leaving, sir."
"Good. Good work. Thank you, Reginald. Getting the book into the hands of that Catalan woman was a brilliant stroke. And you can trust it will earn an additional reward. Dexter, the cheques please."
Dexter stepped across to his father from where he had been standing by the fire and pulled a leather-bound book from his coat, handing it across the desk to his father with a grin of satisfaction. John took it with a returned grin and proceeded to write a cheque for Reginald, a middle-aged Spanish man who had been a faithful friend of the family business for years.
"I don’t require anything else at this time from your services, Reginald. I will have my local boys keep an eye out at Boyd’s establishment. I’m already worried I have waited too long to speak to him," John reflected as he handed the cheque across to Reginald who sat a moment gaping at the unexpected bonus.
"I have told you, Father, he has left her behind now," Dexter chuckled as he paced the floor behind the chairs where Reginald was still frozen in time, examining his payment in disbelief. "He’s moving on. I’m sure of it. He isn’t going to help you, leastways. You’re going to have to work more directly to get her back."
"Good day to you, Reginald," John said with a smile as he guided his speechless guest to the door. "Mary will see you out." Closing the door behind his newest house servant and Reginald, John stepped over to lean against the mantle of the great fireplace facing his younger son who was still pacing, his hands in his trouser pockets. "Oh, no. He isn’t finished with her yet. They had a partnership, and I mean to find out what has become of it."
"One can have a business partner who is not in regular personal contact," Dexter retorted, shaking his head. "Of all people, you should understand the concept of private partners: people who have a share in the profits without showing much participation in the efforts of earning them."
John rubbed his chin in thought. "Yes, but I sense that our Msr. Boyd had a different plan in mind when he allowed Mira to become his partner… something different entirely… less about profits… more about control. I have little doubt there is a catch somewhere, and perhaps her coming back to Paris might shed light on it." John stood staring toward the veiled window for a long silent moment in thought, then as if wakened from a dream he looked toward his son who was now pouring the two of them a glass of scotch. "Anyway, I have a new resource to consult that should prove quite profitable."
"You mean the girl? The young singer?" Dexter stepped over and handed one of the glasses to his father. "Isn’t she Miranda's sister?"
John nodded after he sipped his scotch. "Yes, she is. And she reflects more of her sister’s beauty with every passing month. I only hope that Mira hasn’t given her the wrong impression of our family." John chuckled as he took another sip, and his son laughed at the thought.
"Soon to be remedied," Dexter said with confidence. "It will be awkward, but I think I can manage. It would be so much easier if she were taking customers like the others."
"With the right charms, my son, she just might," John said with a raised eyebrow and devious grin, holding his glass up in toast with Dexter. As he drank to the thought, he repeated to himself, "She just might."
"Yes, sir. I was able to board the same train, and I saw them both boarding and leaving, sir."
"Good. Good work. Thank you, Reginald. Getting the book into the hands of that Catalan woman was a brilliant stroke. And you can trust it will earn an additional reward. Dexter, the cheques please."
Dexter stepped across to his father from where he had been standing by the fire and pulled a leather-bound book from his coat, handing it across the desk to his father with a grin of satisfaction. John took it with a returned grin and proceeded to write a cheque for Reginald, a middle-aged Spanish man who had been a faithful friend of the family business for years.
"I don’t require anything else at this time from your services, Reginald. I will have my local boys keep an eye out at Boyd’s establishment. I’m already worried I have waited too long to speak to him," John reflected as he handed the cheque across to Reginald who sat a moment gaping at the unexpected bonus.
"I have told you, Father, he has left her behind now," Dexter chuckled as he paced the floor behind the chairs where Reginald was still frozen in time, examining his payment in disbelief. "He’s moving on. I’m sure of it. He isn’t going to help you, leastways. You’re going to have to work more directly to get her back."
"Good day to you, Reginald," John said with a smile as he guided his speechless guest to the door. "Mary will see you out." Closing the door behind his newest house servant and Reginald, John stepped over to lean against the mantle of the great fireplace facing his younger son who was still pacing, his hands in his trouser pockets. "Oh, no. He isn’t finished with her yet. They had a partnership, and I mean to find out what has become of it."
"One can have a business partner who is not in regular personal contact," Dexter retorted, shaking his head. "Of all people, you should understand the concept of private partners: people who have a share in the profits without showing much participation in the efforts of earning them."
John rubbed his chin in thought. "Yes, but I sense that our Msr. Boyd had a different plan in mind when he allowed Mira to become his partner… something different entirely… less about profits… more about control. I have little doubt there is a catch somewhere, and perhaps her coming back to Paris might shed light on it." John stood staring toward the veiled window for a long silent moment in thought, then as if wakened from a dream he looked toward his son who was now pouring the two of them a glass of scotch. "Anyway, I have a new resource to consult that should prove quite profitable."
"You mean the girl? The young singer?" Dexter stepped over and handed one of the glasses to his father. "Isn’t she Miranda's sister?"
John nodded after he sipped his scotch. "Yes, she is. And she reflects more of her sister’s beauty with every passing month. I only hope that Mira hasn’t given her the wrong impression of our family." John chuckled as he took another sip, and his son laughed at the thought.
"Soon to be remedied," Dexter said with confidence. "It will be awkward, but I think I can manage. It would be so much easier if she were taking customers like the others."
"With the right charms, my son, she just might," John said with a raised eyebrow and devious grin, holding his glass up in toast with Dexter. As he drank to the thought, he repeated to himself, "She just might."