“It’s true, a musical night is not my first choice for sources of entertainment, but my companion wished to come and who am I to deny her anything,” Oliver replied, winking.
“Indeed,” Costello commented, frowning slightly.
“I believe you were acquainted with her late husband, were you not?” His host being a short stout little man meant Oliver had to stoop over so as not to appear to be talking to the person behind him. Not to mention the glare—this was coming off Costello’s balding head from the grand chandelier above them. Oliver absently patted his hair in appreciation of its staying power.
Costello eyed him for a moment, his brows knitting together. “I knew him,” he replied, looking over to where the Black Raven and his wife seemed to be having a rather awkward conversation.
“Never met the man, myself. What was he like?” Oliver asked.
He noted that Costello was laboring over his answer. Finally, he came up with, “He was… tall.”
Oliver wanted to laugh. Anybody would seem tall when you were Lord Costello. “Really? Tall, you say? Not very helpful. Could you try a bit harder?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“Yes, of course, makes it easier to compete when one knows his adversary,” Oliver said, taking a sip of his drink and making a face.Punch, vile stuff. Thankfully his host did not see. He quickly tipped the offending liquid into the plant next to him. The poor thing was liable to be withered by morning, but better it than him.
“But the man’s dead, Bellamy!” Costello explained.
“Apparently so,” Oliver replied. He looked around him, already bored with the way the conversation was going. “Buried and everything, I heard.”
Costello gave a little snort and after a moment’s contemplation finally said something worth listening to. “He was a shrewd one, though. Blackhurst, I mean. He knew how to make gold out of nothing at all.”
Oliver raised a brow. “I had not realized he was so inventive,” he said with a smile. “Is it too much to hope he has passed on his secrets to his wife?”
Costello snorted again. “Doubt it, but by God he knew how to make money.” He lowered his voice considerably and Oliver was forced to bend closer to hear. “I’d invested with him a few times and always thought him a strange sort of fellow but sharp as atack when it came to money, until the last time.” Costello took a large swallow of his drink.
“The last time?” Oliver prodded gently.
“When he was killed, the scheme went belly up, too, but I’m sure you already knew that. Cost me a fortune, he did, I was luckier than most. I didn’t invest everything I owned, although some did and lost it all. It was not a pleasant time for any of us.”
His tone was bitter, and Oliver raised a brow in interest. “These other investors, the ones who lost everything, what happened to them?”
Costello shrugged. “Wakehurst blew his brains out, Bristol took a bath with a bottle of brandy and his shaving razor, Simons fled to the Continent or the Americas, I cannot remember which. Your brother jumped a fence for no apparent reason. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
Oliver narrowed his eyes on the little man. He wanted to put his hands around his neck and shake him, a lot. “You think my brother committed suicide, Costello?”
“I didn’t say that; you just asked me what happened to them, and I’ve told you.”
“You and those still with us did not go to such extremes.”
“Some of us were lucky enough to be able to go on, but it wasn’t easy. Everyone was shocked and angry and wanted answers. Answers that to this day we have not found out.”
Costello didn’t say any more, so Oliver let it drop.
Oliver caught Costello flicking his glance towards Lisbeth. Oliver looked up and watched her too. It was an enjoyable scene. “How is it, then, Lady Blackhurst survived any financial hardships?”
“Told you, Blackhurst was shrewd, made sure everything was in her name, or perhaps it was she who insisted it be so. Some of us tried to get back our deposit but Lady Blackhurst would nottake any submission. It didn’t help her cause I can assure you. Some say she did it, you know.”
“Did what?” He asked the question even though he knew what the answer would be.
“Killed him for his money or had him killed!” Costello whispered. “Not that I think that, of course, but one never knows with women.” Costello took a sip of his drink and turned his eyes away from Oliver.
It seemed he had said more than he had wanted. It was nearly enough for Oliver. “Yes, women are such strange creatures, but such beautiful ones too; however are we to resist them?” Oliver watched the countess as she excused herself and made her way towards him.
“I agree and none more so than her. Enjoy yourself, Bellamy, but a word of warning, be watchful. There’s many a deadly weapon concealed in a pretty case,” Costello said before moving on to his next guest.
Oliver was still frowning when Lisbeth reached him and he was startled when she put her hand on his sleeve and said, “It’s time to go.”
