I took a few steps forward. “May I help you?”
“Come in, sit down,” he said. “It’s time we had a chat.”
I sat in a chair across the coffee table from him. “Would you care for some tea?”
He surveyed me. “No, I don’t think so.” He leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees. “I did work for you —”
I felt certain he hadn’t lifted a finger: surely his grandson Thrace did every bit of it.
“— and yet I’ve not been paid.”
I shrugged. “We had an agreement. It isn’t my fault you were unable to collect from them.”
At this, Mr. Pike began to laugh. It was more of a cackle than a laugh, being a man of advancing age, yet it was merry. “My dear, when a new man comes to apprentice, do you know the first thing I teach him?”
“I couldn’t possibly.”
He grinned his alligator grin. “That a thing not written is nothing at all.” His grin faded. “You see, we do not have an agreement. We never had an agreement. What we have is your word against mine.”
“You would fight Spadros Manor?”
“I’d wager your Mr. Spadros — pick either — knows nothing of our ‘agreement’. Am I right?”
Fear gnawed at me. What could I say?
“So I believe now we can come to an agreement.” He leaned forward. “This time, in writing.”
“What sort of an agreement?”
“Now I know how much these men owed Dame Louis, I know what my fee would have been had they paid their debts. I’d like to have that money, but now she’s dead, they have no incentive to pay.”
“I still don’t see how that’s any of my concern. You get them to pay, you can have it all.”
He frowned. “Because I sent them letters on behalf of Dame Anastasia Louis, the inquest has fixed its attention upon me. I testify tomorrow morning. Before your husband does, in fact. Who am I to say directed me to send these letters?”
I stared at him in horror.
His face became smugly amused. “You see, this matter is entirely your concern. If I say you directed me to send these letters, it would lend credence to the idea that Spadros Manor acted as Dame Anastasia’s enforcer. Imagine that — Spadros Manor coercing its own merchants to pay one of their friends when the merchants suspected fraud. That in itself might be enough to turn the quadrant against you. But then the question would arise: did the Spadros Family know the gems were false, and coerce their merchants to take them anyway?”
Oh, gods, I thought. What have I done?
“If the Spadros Family was to do that to another quadrant, your people would cheer. But to turn against its own people ... ?”
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I felt trapped. “What is it you want?”
“I testify that Dame Anastasia hired me directly. I never mention your name. In return, you pay me 1% of what they owed her as we agreed.”
“How much did they owe?”
He handed over a paper, with a list, and a tally. The 1% was even calculated for me. It was ten times more than I’d handed over to Joe. “Where could I possibly get this kind of money?”
“That’s none of my concern.” He produced two papers for my signature. “Do we have a deal?”
The clock ticked. I heard a noise in the hall.
I had to keep Mr. Pike from speaking against me. So I signed them both. Mr. Pike slid one across the table, putting the other in his briefcase. I folded my copy, sliding it in my pocket.
The door opened; Tony walked in. He didn’t so much as glance at Doyle Pike. “Mrs. Spadros, may I speak with you?”
I rose, heart pounding. “Why, certainly. Please excuse me, Mr. Pike.” I followed Tony into the entryway.
Tony snapped, “Why is that man here?”
I could have told Tony about Dame Anastasia’s case and my predicament. Looking back, I probably should have. But the way he spoke angered me. “I did tell you I had a lawyer.”
Tony froze. “This is a mistake, Jacqui. Do not —” He bit his lower lip, then said, “You must not. I beg you, dismiss this man from your service at once.”
A terrible thought came to me: Did either of them know about Thrace Pike’s pamphlet? “Why?”
“The man is unprincipled. He’s dangerous. I — I can’t protect you from him, should it come to that.” He gasped, eyes widening in horror, and he gripped my hands. “Have you signed anything?”
Should I tell him? “No, but —”
“Sign nothing until our lawyers see it. Please. Promise me?”
Tony didn’t trust Doyle Pike. Would he agree to pay such a sum? Certainly not.
I smiled, relaxing. Joe and I would leave Bridges soon. No one would ever find us. If Tony didn’t know about the agreement, and never became involved, no one would have to pay a thing. “I promise. Be at peace; you have nothing to worry about.”
Tony let out a breath. “Thank the gods you see reason.” He pulled me close, kissed my forehead. “You gave me a fright.”
I hugged him, patted his arm. “All is well.”
We went back into the parlor. I said, “Mr. Pike, send me what you have at your convenience, and I’ll let you know what I decide.” My eyes flickered in Tony’s direction.
Mr. Pike stood, a small smile on his face. “A pleasure doing business with you, madam.”
We escorted him out. Tony still appeared uneasy. “What did he mean, business?”
I shrugged. “Isn’t that what all tradesmen say?”
“I suppose,” Tony said. He glanced around, he voice dropping to a whisper. “But show me whatever he sends you. I must learn how much he knows. If news about Gardena and Roland were to surface —” he shook his head, “I could be sent to the Prison.”
I gaped at him, imagining the horrors which must be in such a place, with Jack Diamond as its Keeper. “But why?”
Tony put his hand to his forehead. “Come with me.”
We went to the gardens, then past them out to the meadow. When Rocket saw us, he followed, tail wagging. When we stopped, he lay down at our feet.
This seemed a good place to speak privately, as there were no bushes to hide a listening ear. But we stood silent for a long time.
“Thank the gods certificates of birth aren’t public record,” Tony said. “Did you wonder why my son’s certificate was cut?”
“I did.”
Tony let out a breath. “I almost don’t know whether to be glad or afraid.”
“What is it?”
He put his hand to his forehead, staring at the ground. “In Bridges, a child’s certificate has three boxes in the corner. Before them is a question: how came this birth? Marriage, whoredom —” he paused, and his face was white, his jaw tight. “Or rape.”
I gasped. “Gardena called it rape?”
He turned away, dropping his hand to his side. “She says her father snatched the paper from her, marking it over her protests.” He ran his hands through his hair. “But I don’t know what other outcome I would want. I couldn’t marry her — I was betrothed to you, and my father would have it no other way.”
Why did Roy insist on our marriage? I never had found the answer to that. Did Tony even know?
“I couldn’t let Gardena and Roland be sent to the Pot. What kind of life would that be? What torments would they endure?” He shook his head. “I’d already seen what growing up there did to you.” He turned away. “I couldn’t go to my father. He’d have killed her, or taken my son as hostage, or perhaps both. Whatever he thought would hurt me most.” He paused for a long time, and when he spoke, he sounded desolate. “And I couldn’t let her be sent to another city. I’d never see her again.”
He still loves her, after everything that’s happened.
I kissed Tony’s hand. “You couldn’t bear to see it written.”
Tony shook his head, staring at the ground.
Moved at his suffering, I hugged him, eyes closed, trying not to weep. What would he do when I was gone?
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