"A most delightful young lady. But no, I'd never met Lady Winslow before that evening," Zach assured him.
"That's strange. She seemed to think she knew you," Jerrold mused, unable to suppress a nagging irritation that perhaps this man wasn't telling him the truth.
"A simple mistake," Zach smiled. "I'm often mistaken for someone else."
Barrington frowned. Mistake indeed. Only a fool would mistake this man for anyone. He wanted to know a great deal more about him, and the business transaction he'd spoken of.
Jerrold Barrington smiled, reminding Zach of a venomous snake he'd seen in the Outback before it moves in for the kill.
"You mentioned a business matter the other evening," he continued. He tugged on the satin rope mounted on the wall beside the desk, and then looked up as an older man entered.
"Hobson, we'll take brandy in the library." He turned to Zach. "If you'll join me. The library is much more comfortable and is a discreet place for discussing business." Indicating a door in the mahogany-paneled wall, he led the way into the library.
"Since you seem so well acquainted with Barrington Shipping, you're undoubtedly aware that we are experienced in handling a variety of cargoes for both import and export to virtually any port in the world."
It sounded like a well-rehearsed speech he gave often. When the brandy was brought, he dismissed his employee and poured the amber liquid into squat glass tumblers.
Zach smiled as he accepted the proffered drink. He had Jerrold where he wanted him. Barrington was curious and greedy. He would not turn down the offer Zach was about to propose. And it was all so perfect. A precious cargo was carefully disguised and quite safe. What Barrington didn't yet know was that it was actually his cargo, first sold to him in New South Wales for a mere fraction of its true value.
Barrington controlled all shipping, and thereby controlled prices on all commodities. It was a lucrative arrangement that had the effect of maintaining an economic stranglehold on the colonies.
But this particular cargo had a unique history. It had first been sold to Barrington Trading Company, then loaded in the hold of a Barrington ship bound for England. Mysteriously, the ship never made her destination. Her crew, as well as her cargo, were lost off the treacherous coast of Australia, as were so many ships over the past two years. Now that cargo had just as mysteriously reappeared in the hold of theRevenge,to be resold to Jerrold Barrington at an exorbitant profit. It was a scheme the Raven would envy.
Zach smiled secretively. "As I explained, I am a stranger to England. But I thought you might be able to acquaint me with someone who might be interested in a certain cargo."
Jerrold's demeanor was almost condescending. "I will try. Of course, there is the possibility my company might be interested as well. That would depend on the cargo, and whether or not there is a ready market for it."
"Of course. There's always a market for this particular cargo. I acquired it from a man in the colonies; however, I'm not at liberty to divulge his identity." It was a game of cat and mouse, and Zach loved it.
Jerrold nodded, as he lifted an etched-crystal tumbler of brandy to his mouth. Contraband. But then it wasn't the first time his firm had dealt in such commodities, and it wouldn't be the last. There was a great deal of profit to be made in it. "What is the cargo?"
Zach lifted his own glass in a faintly mocking salute. "Four and a half kilos of raw, unrefined gold, taken from one of the richest ore deposits in the world." He suppressed a faint smile as he revealed the exact amount of gold lost aboard that Barrington ship off the coast of Australia only months earlier.
Jerrold Barrington broke into spasms of coughing. When he had sufficiently recovered, his dark eyes narrowed as they studied his guest. "I think perhaps we might be able to strike a deal,senor.Where did you say you came by such a large amount of gold?"
"I didn't."
There wasn't a trace of warmth in Barrington's smile. He reminded Zach of a sly wolf.
"It hardly matters. As you said, there is always a market for such a cargo. What price did you have in mind?"
Barrington never flinched when Zach named a price that was just below the market price in London, and over ten times the amount he'd originally paid in New South Wales.
"You drive a hard bargain,senor."Jerrold lifted his glass, carefully scrutinizing the man before him. Four and a half kilos of gold. What he wouldn't give to have that amount of gold, especially after his heavy losses this past year in those damnable colonies. But perhaps he could bargain the price down. He smiled as he thought of various methods he'd used in the past. Every man has his weaknesses. He had only to find out what this man's were, then use them to advantage and perhaps acquire the gold for substantially less.
"Nonetheless, I'm certain we can arrive at a mutually satisfying agreement," Barrington assured St. James.
He pulled a watch from his vest pocket as if only just realizing the time. "I hadn't realized the lateness of the hour. I hope you will excuse me. I have another appointment. But I would like to discuss this further. I'll be getting together with a few friends, evening after next, at my private club. If you're free, we could do so then."
Zach smiled graciously, masking his keen satisfaction. Barrington had reacted just as he'd thought he would by stalling for time. The man wanted to see what he could find out about Sir William St. James and a cargo of four and a half kilos of gold.
Jerrold rose, extending his hand. His cool smile stiffened when the man only nodded curtly.
"Until Thursday evening."
Pulling on his gloves, Zach smiled as he stepped down onto the cobbled sidewalk. His meeting with Jerrold Barrington had gone just as planned. Barrington was careful, but he was also greedy. If he looked up now to the sixth floor set of windows, he would find Barrington watching him. He tipped his hat to a fashionably dressed lady who passed by. The trap had been baited.
He nodded a greeting to Sandy, across the cobbled street snarled with coaches and hansom cabs. The second mate from theRevengelooked faintly out of place atop the elegant gleaming black coach sitting around the corner. He'd given him instructions to be there promptly at twelve noon, when he'd sent him out before dawn on specific errands. As Zach threaded his way through the congestion of conveyances, the mate jumped down to greet him.
