I looked up. Everything I might have expected—some comment that I was taking too long, and I was, deliberately so. To his simply deciding not to wear the ‘bloody thing,’ nothing could have surprised me.
For once, I couldn’t think of anything to say.
“On the streets, wot ye find is wot has been cast off, that no one wants any more. In my time with the MET… we were always looked at with suspicion, even hatred, by those we came across in a crime.
“Here,” he glanced around at the office before continuing. “There are things that are just… things. Pieces of furniture, the desk, yer chalkboard. Oh, there is the Mudger—Mr. Cavendish and that bloody hound. But they dinnae belong to anyone. At least not the hound.”
“What about Munro?” I reminded him.
“Aye, and like a brother to me. But he doesna belong to me either.” He reached up and wrapped the hair that fell over my shoulder around his fingers.
“For the first time, there is something that is truly mine.” He pulled me closer and lightly kissed me.
I might have pointed out that I didn’tbelongto him either, although I suppose that was splitting hairs over it all as we were married, and that had meant making a commitment to each other. I understood what he meant. More importantly, I knew where it came from.
“We don’t want to be late for our meeting with Sir Laughton,” I reminded him. “We do have a case to solve.”
We arrived on time for our meeting, and were immediately shown into Sir Laughton’s private office.
“The legal community is actually quite small,” he explained after his clerk left and closed the door.
“We know who the barristers are as well as other lawyers, the major firms in London, and very often most of their clerks as we often work together on cases, or across from each other in court.
“Through someone I know, I was able to learn the name of the firm that represented Harris Imports as well as Simon Harris, the owner of the import company. As you will see at the top of the copy of the trust document, his lawyer was Sir Elliott Mainwaring, Esquire, both in matters regarding the business and personally as well. And still is, according to provisions in the trust document, which he had one of his people copy and certified it to be exact,” he added.
“Even though Simon Harris is dead?” I asked.
“As you will note as you read through the copy of the trust, it is what is called aliving document, in that with certain provisions, the terms of the trust continue on even after the death of the person it was created for.
“I am certain that you are aware of the provisions of the trust that her ladyship has created for yourself and Lady Lenore. It is much the same here, with the particular provision that Mr. Carney, employed as manager of Harris Imports, is to continue certain responsibilities as outlined.”
“We have learned that he is compensated,” Brodie commented. “How might that happen?”
“Through a bank account established at Lloyd’s Bank. They would have a copy of the trust agreement as well, for such purposes.”
Somewhat familiar with the language of such documents after my great-aunt created her trust, I noted several similar provisions, one in particular made for the upkeep of the familyburial sites at Hampstead, along with the provision that had established Lloyd’s Bank as recipient for any additional funds through “Mr. Harris’s business,” and compensation for Mr. Carney to be distributed by the bank, with a record of account kept.
There were, of course, other legal provisions. There was the family home in Knightsbridge, which was to be sold, along with other holdings, and Harris Import ownership in four cargo ships.
Simon Harris had obviously been a very successful businessman. There was one other piece of information that drew my attention. The date of the trust was September 12, 1881, barely three months after the death of his wife, and only days before that tragic warehouse fire where he died.
“Might it be possible to obtain information from the bank regarding Harris Shipping?” I asked.
I wondered what Mr. Carney was paid the past years for‘overseeing’what was left of the warehouse, along with possible other transactions with the information Brodie had learned about Mr. Carney’s other enterprise downriver of the docks.
Sir Laughton handed Brodie a letter with a wax seal on it.
“I anticipated that you might ask,” he said. “That letter is a legal notification instructing the manager at Lloyd’s Bank to accommodate your request for that information. If there is any difficulty, I could provide a special warrant for the information, although that is most unusual.”
I wasn’t at all certain what we might learn as we left Sir Laughton’s office and gave the driver instructions to take us to the bank.
We already knew from the information Brodie had learned that Mr. Carney was paid a small stipend to watch over the warehouse site at St. Katherine’s Docks. The only part of what he’d learned from his meeting the night before with Mr. Brownwas that Carney also had a smuggling operation, it was said, farther down river, south of the main London docks.
The manager of Lloyd’s Bank was quite hesitant at first.
“This is most irregular. Our customers’ information is private and held in strictest confidence,” he first objected.
“We understand, sir,” Brodie politely replied. “However, this is in the matter of a private inquiry of great importance. Yer assistance might very well aid in the resolution of a serious crime, which I am certain ye would not want to obstruct.”
