Ancient Appetites

Another shrug.

'A horse?' Silas persisted. 'A decent hat? A pound of sugar? A pistol? A pint of beer-'

'You can get a pint of beer for as little as a penny' Nate told him. 'But it's worth paying more for the good stuff.'

'Yes, well…' Silas sighed. 'Let's see if we can expand your horizons a bit, shall we?'

And so it began. Nate reluctantly sat down beside Silas at the desk and together they began to pore through the books of figures. It was true, he discovered: he knew next to nothing about the family business. As the Heir, Marcus had taken on so much responsibility so readily that Nathaniel and Roberto had not been trusted with any at all. Nor had they looked for it. They had been happy to live their lives and indulge their passions without any thought to where their money was coming from.

The scale of the Wildenstern business was astounding, and as he listened, he understood for the first time the kind of power the family could wield… and why some members were so bloodthirsty in their attempts to control it. Silas droned on, his hands restlessly flicking through the pages. But Nate's mind was already running along a different track, trying to piece together the puzzle of his brother's death. He was still sceptical about the idea of a Fenian mastermind cooking up diabolical schemes against them. It seemed hard to believe the rebels could have pulled off such a subtle murder. But his family were trained to do this kind of thing.

'…We are the single biggest owner of property in Ireland, of course,' Silas was saying, 'as well as retaining several large estates on mainland Britain. But the income from all these pale in comparison to our profits from the North America Trading Company…'

Different relatives controlled different areas of the Company, Nate knew. But Marcus was in effective command, and with his death, everyone would change rank. Many of them would move up a notch. There were dozens of people with a reason to kill him.

'… Up until the American War of Independence we controlled all the trade with the United States,' Silas went on. 'After that, we lost our monopoly unfortunately, but we still ran all the major shipyards and a majority of the ports, so many of the Atlantic trade routes are still under our control. The North America Trading Company ships everything from maize to cotton, horses to fashion items, as well as doing a healthy trade in coffee and tobacco…'

But anybody who tried to kill Marcus and failed would be faced with a powerful and resourceful young man who would waste no time in taking his revenge. It would have to have been someone who could afford to take the risk and also someone who would get the greatest benefit. Nate began to list off the suspects in his mind: himself, obviously, then Roberto and Daisy, and after them, Gideon and Eunice. And after them, it could be any of their children – most of whom Nate despised and would have suspected on principle anyway. For the sake of argument, he included Gerald and Silas – although their positions would hardly change at all – and also Tatiana, because he hated to leave her out of anything. And then there was the possibility it had been one of the servants… His mind went back to what Hugo had said. They had been betrayed by their servants. And Slattery believed there was a spy in the house – he was reminded of the bailiff's note. Perhaps they would soon find out who that spy was. His eyes fell on one of the books on the desk. It was the wage record for the house staff.

'… America is a veritable treasure trove of resources,' Silas was explaining. 'And then there's the cheap labour, of course. As you know, slavery was abolished in the British Empire in 1833. But it is still alive and well in America – particularly the South, where most of our estates and factories are located. There has been talk of a civil war over the whole slavery business, but your father thinks it's all balderdash. I'm inclined to agree. Americans talk a lot of rot sometimes.'

Now that he thought about it, Nate realized it would be all too easy to get a spy into the Wildenstern home. They had a staff of over a hundred; he couldn't say exactly how many. He knew hardly any of their names, and he was on better terms with many of the servants than most of the other family members. These people guarded them, fed them, dressed them and made their beds for them. The senior servants like Clancy and McDonald the butler were trained from childhood, but for the lower-level positions… well, as long as they had good references and did their work properly they could move around the house without suspicion. There was no way of telling if they were rebel sympathizers or not.

'To protect our business out on the seas, the Company has the power to commandeer vessels of the Royal Navy,' Silas continued. 'But this is rarely necessary – most of our ships are extremely well armed. We can also draft in armies here in Ireland to deal with any insurrection. Although I suspect Irish soldiers would be more trouble than they're worth – which is why we have so many British troops at our disposal…'

There could be dozens of assassins in the house and we might never know, Nate was thinking. They could murder us all in our beds.

'… Not that the British government is completely on our side either,' Silas added, speaking too quickly now as he grew more animated, still unaware that Nate was hardly listening. 'They are constantly trying to place limits on our power, and there is a new and disturbing wave of liberal thought sweeping through Britain, a growing movement of bleeding-heart lawmakers who think we would have less of a problem with the rebels if we did more to raise the poor out of their 'misery'. As if you can reason with bloodthirsty lunatics…'

'They could kill us all,' Nathaniel said aloud.

'I'm sure they would, given the chance,' Silas agreed.

XIX

CONSIDERATION, RESPECT AND DIFFIDENCE

Nathaniel left Silas's office as early as he could, taking the mechanical lift to the ground floor. He walked outside with Slattery's note clutched in his hand. Careful to check that he wasn't observed, he made his way round to the south wing, the oldest section of Wildenstern Hall, built nearly three hundred years ago. The door he was looking for was below ground level, at the foot of a flight of stone steps. It was solid oak, reinforced with iron bands, and he was surprised to find the hinges well-oiled and the lock in good working order.

He pushed on it, but it didn't budge. Looking back up the steps, he found he was nervous, unsure of what to do. He knocked tentatively and then again, harder this time, annoyed with himself for being so hesitant. Wildenstern Hall was his home, after all.

There came the sound of footsteps and he heard a key in the lock. The door opened slightly and a face peered through the crack.

'Ah, there y'are, sir. We was expectin' yeh to come through the passage. We don't use this door so much.'

So there was another way in, Nathaniel noted. Strange that he didn't know it. The man opened the door and ushered him in, taking a quick, furtive look outside before closing it again. There was only a hint of daylight now, from around the door. Nate found himself in a long dark stone tunnel. The air down here was cool and a little damp, and there were heavy wooden doors at regular intervals on either side of the corridor.

'Not been down here before, sir?' the man asked. 'Better let me lead so. Roof's a bit low and the floor's uneven, so yeh have to watch yerself. McHugh's my name, sir. Pleased to meet you.'

The man had a candle in his hand and it cast a fluttering light as they walked along. Nate noticed that McHugh was wearing a leather apron over his shirt and trousers. He was a short man, with a stocky body, large arms and short legs; short red hair circled a growing bald spot. The roof was very low in places and Nate found himself catching his toes on the worn and cracked flagstones. He had a dozen questions he wanted to ask about the place, but he couldn't bear to sound so ignorant of his own home. He supposed there were places all over the house that the servants knew better than their masters.

The tunnel took them to a door at the end where lantern light shone from round a corner. Going through the doorway, McHugh stepped aside and let Nate walk past. He wasn't prepared for what he saw and his breath caught in his throat.