The headquarters of Lidelle Shipping Co. had the unfortunate coincidence of being located across the street from the Metropolitan Police Department. During the day Ardon could look outside his window and see any number of officers trailing in and out of the station's large glass plated double doors, sometimes with a drunkard or thief in tow. He sometimes even had the pleasure of witnessing an act of disorderly conduct, usually by the fool that had been arrested.
The irony was not lost on him that he was running a smuggling ring across the way from the headquarters of the law enforcement agency responsible for policing all of Greater Aldochor. When he had first taken over Lidelle's clandestine operations many years ago, he would walk the few blocks to work from the underground railway expecting to be accosted at any moment by the Chief Superintendent, Benjamin Booth, who he sometimes saw in the afternoons running out to grab a coffee from Almack's the next block over. When that didn't happen, and in fact, when he ran into Mr. Booth in that same coffee shop some time later, the latter's countenance barely registering who he even was, Ardon had stopped worrying.
Apart from being one of the largest shipping companies in Eganick Kingdom, Lidelle was also known for its vigorous philanthropic work, a company culture that Belinda and Elles had carefully cultivated from the very beginnings of their founding the company, and which Elles continued to uphold. This meant that she, and subsequently Lidelle, were held in high esteem by the very institutions under whose noses they worked to engage in subterfuge.
So when Collin burst into his office on the third floor of their headquarters the next morning, sending a stack of folders on the side table by the door tumbling to the floor, Ardon was startled, as was the man sitting in one of the upholstered chairs before his desk.
"Apologies, my Lord," Collin said breathlessly to the man, removing his cap. "Mr. Mereguilde," his old friend said, "If I could have a word, please?"
Ardon grasped the situation at once and stood, extending a hand to the portly baron before him. "I'm so sorry, Lord Ashford. Might we continue this conversation another time? Perhaps over lunch tomorrow? Mrs. Mereguilde will be available then and we can all discuss the finer details of your proposal."
As soon as the baron had left, Ardon closing the door behind him, he turned to Collin. "What has happened?"
"Miles and his crew were hit last night in Crisom," Collin babbled, naming a city just inside the border of Creusen Kingdom, their neighbor to the west. "They went to pick up a haul and some men with gas guns got 'em when they came back over. They made it into the city about an hour ago."
"Where are they now?" Ardon grabbed his coat from its peg and threw the door open, causing his secretary, who was sitting just outside, to jump in her chair.
Collin grabbed his arm and drew him back into the office. "They are at the infirmary, Ward 14. Miles and Johannes were hurt bad but the others are okay."
"Hell and damnation
.
Why didn't anyone tell me sooner?"
"The police were all over it. There was a constable coming in on a bus and he saw it and called it in. I expect the Inspector will be paying you a visit again, the same one that was out for your blood last time."
Ardon strode over to the window to look down at the police station. Sure enough, Helenshead Inspector Wallace James had just exited the station and was crossing the street, heading straight for Lidelle's front doors. Ardon cursed aloud.
"There's more," Collin said quickly. "Ardon, it's bad. They caught one of the men that attacked Miles. He said Godfrey hired them."
Fuck.
If the man had said that to the police, it meant that James would be all over him. It also meant that one of the city's most feared drug lords was after Lidelle's product. He should have known it would happen eventually.
"Did the brettle get here safely? Did the police see it?"
"Miles said Johannes threw a reflecting tarp over it before the poppers got there but I can't vouch no one saw it, you'll have to ask him directly. Likely it's still sitting out there and someone will have to retrieve it."
"All right. I'll deal with James. You go make sure Miles and the rest of them are being taken care of. And suspend any further pick-ups until we can sit down and figure this out."
When Colin had gone, Ardon stood by the window looking at the busy street below. This was a godawful, terrible morning, aided by the fact that he hadn't sleep well at all last night.
He sighed, raking a hand through his hair, staring down at the busy street below but not really seeing the crowds or hackneys. His mind was far away, thinking about the events of last night. He hadn't expected Thara to initiate that kiss. In fact, he had been in the middle of talking himself
out
of
kissing her, because he had pegged her to be the type of girl that didn't kiss men who weren't their fiancé. He knew why she had initiated, of course. He had seen the way her eyes fluttered closed when he touched her breast, the way she shivered, ever so slightly. The girl was incredibly responsive. But he didn't think she'd
do
anything about it, which was why he had caught himself before it went any further. So it had come as a great surprise when she had feathered that little rosebud mouth over his.
Innocent girl indeed.
But her pretty little kiss was not an excuse for what he had done next, which was to prop her up on the table and kiss her again—his way. The second kiss was much better, in his opinion. She tasted just as delicious as he'd suspected. Better, even. So, good in fact, that after taking Thara up to her room, he had lain awake in bed unable to get her out of his mind, replaying their kiss over and over until he found himself sporting yet another erection, and had to relieve himself for the second time in a day.
Why is it that she wouldn't make a suitable wife?
Ah yes. That blasted fiancé of hers.
* * *
As Ardon ruminated over the moral turpitude of extramarital affairs, his secretary opened the door to announce a visitor. But no sooner did the name leave her lips then Wallace James announced himself by pushing the door open so wide that it banged against the hat rack in the corner.
"Mr. Mereguilde," Inspector James said, not wasting a moment. "I wish to speak to you about the incident early this morning between your men and Pendleton's hired hacks." His tawny whiskers twitched beneath a button nose.
A baby's nose,
Ardon thought, suppressing a faint smile. Wallace James had probably been a very handsome baby. Even now, in his fifties, he had something of a cherubic quality to his features.
Unfortunate, given his line of work.
"What about it?" Ardon went to sit behind his desk. James remained standing, taking in the clutter about the room and the window that badly needed washing.
"I am here to inquire about the cargo you were transporting from Crisom late last night."
