The Lyon’s Alliance (The Lyon’s Den Connected World)

Chapter Nineteen

“R ichard.” Mr. Hughes, the well respected and seasoned solicitor, adjusted his spectacles and gave Richard his undivided attention. “What is all this about?” he put his hand on top of the London Chronicle .

Richard leaned forward, his voice low and steady. “Simply stated, an anonymous letter has cast me as the villain in this embezzlement scandal. They used my involvement with the astronomy project as evidence.”

“Yes, I read the materials you sent earlier.” Hughes gestured to the various documents on his desk. “This could be a clever ruse by the embezzler, to keep any inquiries at bay and remain hidden in plain sight. This anonymous informant could be the embezzler or an accomplice.”

Richard nodded, those pieces of the puzzle had already started to align in his mind. “We need to act swiftly. The rumors are not just an attack on my character, that I could bear but they are a threat to those I hold dear.”

“Leave the rumors to me,” Hughes replied with a reassuring tone. “I’ll craft a different narrative that paints you in the true light of your achievements. The tale of a man rising from obscurity, his wealth earned through diligence and foresight.”

“But I need more,” Richard pressed. “I want to know who the real embezzler is.”

Mr. Hughes leaned in, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. “We’ll uncover the culprit. I’ve contacted the editor of the London Chronicle . I’m meeting with him to find out more about the gossip column, how they gather their information, and from whom. We’ll reach beyond the ink-stained pages of the London Chronicle and find the real thief, Richard. And if he doesn’t provide the name of the gossip, I’ll give him gossip of my own to print.”

Richard gave him a broad smile as he rose to leave. “That is what Mrs. Dove-Lyon said to expect. I’m off to see her. I will let her know that you are part of our alliance.”

The Lyon’s Den hummed with whispered conversations and the clink of crystal glasses. Mrs. Dove-Lyon led Christina through the maze of velvet-draped alcoves. Their destination was a private room where Edward Dalley waited.

Dalley put down his glass and rose from his seat as the door opened. “Mrs. Dove-Lyon, Miss Hartfield,” he greeted.

Mrs. Dove-Lyon wasted no time as she and Christina sat across from Dalley. “Edward, thank you for coming here on such short notice. I will come right to the point. As I mentioned in my message to you, we are interested in the embezzlement that took place at F&T Capital Management. The only way we can clear Richard’s name is to find the true thief.”

“That is a worthy goal and one I am happy you thought to include me in. I, too, cannot see Richard involved in this.” He took out his diary and pencil. “I have spoken to him and followed up on other matters related to the case and find that he has nothing to gain from embezzling from the company but everything to lose.”

Mrs. Dove-Lyon nodded, a confident glint in her eye. “Good. We are of a common cause.” She fixed her gaze on Dalley. “According to the London Chronicle , four staff members have left the company. Do you have any information about why those staff members left? Was there anything irregular?”

Dalley leafed through his diary and finally settled on a page. “Three,” he replied, “have moved on to other companies. Routine, it seems. The fourth—a marriage and relocation. Nothing untoward. There has been no disparaging words made by them about the company or its principles.”

“Several transactions about large withdrawals were mentioned in the article,” Christina interjected. “Do the dates of those transactions align with anything Richard has done? Do you see any irregularity?”

Dalley paused and turned toward her. “There are no discrepancies.” He turned to Mrs. Dove-Lyon. “Have you noticed anything improper about Richard’s gambling? I’ve already investigated his movements at The Palladium Association. There was nothing there to speak of.”

“Richard’s gambling?” Christina asked. “Does it matter?”

Dalley leaned back, studying them. “Signs of embezzlement often include desperation for funds caused by perhaps a desire to maintain appearances, increased spending practices, or even extravagant purchases. Some of these activities can lead to secret ledgers and accounts.”

“Secret accounts?” Mrs. Dove-Lyon pressed as she leaned forward with keen interest.

“Indeed,” Dalley said. “I’ve followed paper trails, traced the ink to hidden ledgers in some investigations. At times, even searched for secret books and hiding places.”

Christina’s heart quickened. “You’ve decided to help?” she asked, hope threading through her words.

Dalley nodded. “Yes, I have. Ladies,” he said, “I have already reached out to my sources for more information.” He glanced at Mrs. Dove-Lyon.

Christina chuckled. “We’ve added another participant to our alliance.”

“Alliance?” a questioning expression washed across Dalley’s face.

“An alliance to prove Richard is innocent.” Christina gave him a broad smile.

“I gladly join your group. But now, you must excuse me.” Dalley put his diary and pencil away and stood. “I’ve arranged to meet with a contact.”

Mrs. Dove-Lyon nodded. “Go,” she urged. “We’ll await your findings.”

Dalley made his way briskly up St. James Street. Ten minutes later, he entered the Albemarle Coffeehouse. He took in the subdued light and the murmur of conversations around him. He made his way to a secluded corner, where he spotted Tarleton. Joining him, Dalley exchanged pleasantries before Tarleton launched into a discussion about recent developments in the finance circle.

“You’ll never guess what I heard, Dalley.” Tarleton leaned in conspiratorially. “Not too long ago, I mentioned to some others that I had a discussion with Wolf and his friends at the Palladium Association. He was all upset about a woman. It seems there is one in all of London that does not swoon at his feet. They explored various ways Wolf could get his revenge. Much of it was absurd, of course. But now, lo and behold, one of the very scenarios we designed appeared in the London Chronicle’s gossip column! Quite a curious turn of events, don’t you think?”

“Wolf and his dealings are always in the gossip column. That is nothing new.” Dalley said.

“Oh, I agree, but this gossip isn’t about Wolf.” The man chuckled and shook his head.

“The only other gossip is…” Dalley’s nonchalant demeanor changed to one of attentive interest. “Are you talking about the embezzlement? I’ll have you know the embezzlement is real, not fiction. You, of all people, know that.” Dalley’s scowl deepened as Tarleton spoke, the gravity of the situation settling between them.

“The embezzlement is a blight upon our community,” Tarleton continued, his voice touched with concern and disbelief. “To think that someone would cast aspersions so carelessly, it’s unconscionable.”

“Richard St. John?” Dalley’s voice was filled with dread. The possibility that an innocent man could be dragged through the mud was a hard truth to accept.

Tarleton nodded solemnly. “Yes, but rest assured, St. John is not our man. I’ve delved into the accounts myself. There’s not a single transaction linking him to F&T Capital Management. His financial standing is solid, his trust and properties are flourishing. Mr. Hughes has all the documentation to prove it, though I doubt it will come to that.”

Dalley’s gaze lingered on Tarleton, searching for any sign of duplicity. “It’s a relief to hear that Richard’s integrity remains intact. Yet, this revelation brings us to a crossroads. If not Richard, then who stands to gain from his downfall?”

Tarleton exhaled, the weight of the question lingering in the air. “That, my friend, is the million-pound question. We must tread carefully. The real embezzler is likely closer than we think, hiding behind a veil of deceit and feeling quite smug at the moment.”

Dalley leaned back, his mind racing with the implications. “We’re dealing with a master of manipulation. Someone who knows how to play the game and play it well.”

Tarleton’s eyes narrowed. “Indeed. And let’s not forget the grudge between Wolf and Richard. Could jealousy be driving this vendetta?”

Dalley considered the possibility. “Jealousy is a powerful motivator. But to frame an innocent man for embezzlement? That’s a step too far, even for Wolf.”

The two men sat in contemplative silence, each lost in thought. The stakes were high, and the path forward was fraught with danger. But one thing was clear—they needed to act, and act fast, before the rumors caused irreparable damage.

Dalley stood, his resolve firm. “I’ll continue my investigation. We’ll uncover the truth, no matter where it leads.”

Tarleton nodded in agreement. “And I’ll do what I can from my end. Together, we’ll clear Richard’s name and bring the true culprit to justice.”

“I understand. And you say it is Wolf. His financial position is not in question.” Dalley waited, but Tarleton did not contradict his statement. “You know, it could have been any one of the men who took part in the discussion. Besides, what would be his motive for implicating Richard?”

“Ah, it may be an age-old motive…a woman,” Tarleton said with a smile. “It is odd what we do when our manhood is challenged.”

With a handshake that sealed their commitment, Dalley left the coffeehouse, his determination unwavering. The game was in progress, and he was more than ready to play his part.

At Hartfield House, Mrs. Dove-Lyon and Christina settled into the drawing room to wait for Richard’s return. Christina pored over the scant clues they had collected. Each piece of information, no matter how trivial, was turned over in her mind, yet the puzzle remained incomplete. The anonymous accusations against Richard loomed large, their source as elusive despite their earnest search for answers.

“We’re missing something,” Christina murmured, more to herself than to Mrs. Dove-Lyon, the frustration evident in her voice. “There has to be a key item we’ve overlooked.”

Mrs. Dove-Lyon, seated across from Christina, mirrored her dismay. “Let’s hope that Richard has had more success than we have.”

Before either of them could dwell further on their lack of progress, Mrs. Murthy entered the room with a tray of steaming tea. “Tea, ladies?”

Christina and Mrs. Dove-Lyon exchanged a grateful glance before nodding in unison. “Thank you, Mrs. Murthy,” Christina replied, faintly smiling.

Mrs. Murthy set down the tea tray and handed out the tea.

“I do despise waiting,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon lamented as she took the cup and saucer from the housekeeper.

Christina nodded in agreement. “I couldn’t agree with you more. But I find it difficult to concentrate on anything other than this project at the moment.”

Mrs. Murthy cleared her throat to gain their attention. “Forgive me for intruding, but I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation at the bookshop.”

Christina and Mrs. Dove-Lyon turned to face Mrs. Murthy, their curiosity piqued. “What is it, Mrs. Murthy? Your insight is always welcome.”

Mrs. Murthy took a deep breath before speaking, her voice steady. “I may have stumbled upon some information that could interest you.” She set the teapot down.

Christina held her teacup and nodded for her to proceed.

“Lord Falkenham has been letting his household staff go under questionable circumstances.” Christina and Mrs. Dove-Lyon exchanged a glance. “He doesn’t even speak to them. He leaves them letters on their breakfast tables. Mr. Kelly, his butler was dismissed this morning.”

“That is crude and unforgivable,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon seethed with indignation. Her usually composed demeanor gave way to a rare display of raw anger, her eyes flashing with the intensity of her emotions.

“Without advance notice, without references, and without severance,” Mrs. Murthy added.

“Surely, this is spoken all in anger from a disgruntled footman or such,” Christina implored.

Mrs. Murthy took a piece of parchment from her pocket and handed it to Christina. “Mrs. Cox gave me this when I said the same thing to her. She didn’t want it back.”

To Whom It May Concern,

Please be informed that effective immediately, the London residence will be closed indefinitely. As a result, your services will no longer be required.

No further explanation shall be provided, and no references or severance will be issued. You are expected to vacate the premises with all due haste and ensure that all your duties and responsibilities are concluded before your departure.

Regards,

Lord Falkenham

Christina turned the paper over but found nothing more. “Not even personally addressed to Mrs. Cox.” She handed the letter to Mrs. Dove-Lyon.

“And there is more.” Mrs. Murthy went on. “There have been whispers from the estate manager, who has also been dismissed, of financial troubles within Lord Falkenham’s holdings.”

Christina’s thoughts whirled with the implications of Mrs. Murthy’s words. She turned to Mrs. Dove-Lyon, finding her silent, her eyes narrowed in a glare that spoke volumes of her anger and hinted at her deeper knowledge of the situation. “You knew?” Christina asked her.

Mrs. Dove-Lyon turned and faced her. “Not at all. But I do know that Falkenham is connected with F&T Capital Management. I would have thought he and anyone else closely aligned with that company would have been investigated by now, but obviously, not.”

“Or he hid what he was doing,” Mrs. Murthy offered. “If the man was having financial difficulties, and if he was involved in the embezzlement, could he be putting the blame on Mr. St. John?”

“It does appear likely, given this mounting evidence,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon murmured.

They were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Who could be calling?” Christina didn’t try to hide her frustration.

“I’ll tell them you’re not taking any callers.” Mrs. Murthy hurried from the room, returning moments later.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Dove-Lyon.” Mrs. Murthy said as she entered the room. “There is a gentleman to see you, a personal matter. He said it is important. I’ve put him in the library.”

Mrs. Dove-Lyon stared at Christina and then Mrs. Murthy. With a resigned sigh, she nodded to the housekeeper.

“Please forgive me. I’ll be right back.” She swiftly made her way to the library.

“Mrs. Dove-Lyon, forgive my sudden appearance. I was led to believe I might find you here,” Dalley said as she stepped into the room.

“Mr. Dalley, your visit is quite the surprise. Have you stumbled upon something?” Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s gaze was sharp, her curiosity piqued.

Dalley paused, the gravity of his news evident. “It would seem the matter is more intimate than we anticipated.”

“An acquaintance, perhaps?” Mrs. Dove-Lyon inquired, her tone laced with intrigue.

“It appears so. Lord Tarleton has been rather hasty in casting aspersions toward Wolf, insinuating his hand in the rumors surrounding Richard St. John. I have it on good authority, Tarleton’s admission, that Richard is not involved with F&T Capital Management.”

“And how can he assert such a claim?” Mrs. Dove-Lyon pressed.

“Tarleton holds a seat on the board of F&T Capital Management, And before you ask, Tarleton and everyone else who works for the company has been investigated. I’ve also reviewed Richard’s financial records at his solicitor, Mr. Hughes’s request.”

Mrs. Dove-Lyon raised an eyebrow. “You audited Richard’s accounts?”

“Yes, for his protection. I can confirm that his trust has matured, and he lacks any motive for embezzlement,” Dalley affirmed.

Mrs. Dove-Lyon mulled over this revelation. “What will you do now?”

“To inform Richard, of course. But we must tread carefully. Tarleton’s accusations against Wolf could be driven by an old grudge—he once claimed Wolf had an affair with his wife.”

Mrs. Dove-Lyon let out a heavy sigh. “That’s ancient history. Tarleton also blamed Falkenham for his wife’s suicide. What else did you learn?”

“At the Palladium Association, I confirmed a discussion took place among friends about theoretical revenge, but nothing serious.”

“Revenge? What for?” Mrs. Dove-Lyon asked.

“According to the club steward, the affections of a lady. They toyed with the notion of framing Wolf’s rival for embezzlement to divert the lady’s attentions. If St. John is deemed Wolf’s rival, this could serve as a motive. Yet, at present, there is no tangible evidence linking St. John to the crime,” Dalley explained. “Now, I must relay this to Richard.”

“Wait, one moment, please,” Mrs. Dove-Lyon interrupted. “Let me understand. This gossip is merely idle gossip, intended to discourage a lady from developing a tendre for Mr. St. John in favor of Wolf.”

“So it appears,” Dalley said.

“Well, that gets to the bottom of the gossip, but what about the embezzlement?” Mrs. Dove-Lyon asked. “Could this have been a ploy to divert attention away from the real crime, the embezzlement, to give the culprit more time to get away?”

“It is very possible,” Dalley agreed. “It is unfortunate. While I’ve been delving into the gossip, I have also been combing through the F&T Capital Management financial records. I have found some issues that I am doggedly following. I assure you, the investigation is on course.”

Mrs. Dove-Lyon let out a deep breath. “I believe a conversation with Mrs. Murthy is in order. She may hold a key to this puzzle.”

Mrs. Dove-Lyon and Dalley joined Christina and Mrs. Murthy in the drawing room.

“Christina, Mrs. Murthy, this is Edward Dalley. He is a dear friend and a money sleuth. He was very helpful to me when the Colonel passed away. I believe he would find Mrs. Murthy’s information valuable.” She gestured to Dalley, “Please, have a seat. Mrs. Murthy, would you kindly share with Mr. Dalley what you’ve just told us?”

Mrs. Murthy recounted the tale of Lord Falkenham’s staff dismissals and the swirling rumors of his financial woes. Dalley listened intently, his expression growing graver with each word.

After Mrs. Murthy finished, Dalley turned to Mrs. Dove-Lyon. “I’m afraid the situation is even more dire than we suspected. My investigation has revealed that Falkenham is indeed liquidating his assets and settling his debts. It’s a desperate measure that will leave his earldom—and Lady Grace—without a penny to their name.”

Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s eyes widened in shock. “That is most distressing news. And what of the embezzlement?”

Dalley sighed, a hint of frustration in his voice. “While it seemed we were on the brink of unmasking the embezzler, Falkenham’s actions appear to be in line with a man who is planning to relocate. I understand he is leaving next Saturday on the evening tide for America, escorting Mrs. Miller. There is another lead I’m pursuing, something that doesn’t quite add up. I need to verify a few details before I can share more.”

Christina’s response was immediate, her voice laced with urgency. “Falkenham’s sudden liquidation and plans to leave the country can’t just be a coincidence. It aligns too closely with the timing of the embezzlement. We must act before he departs, or we may never recover what’s been lost or worse, clear Richard’s name.”

Her eyes met Dalley’s, imploring him to see the gravity of the situation. “We cannot allow him to simply vanish with the truth—and possibly the stolen funds. There must be something we can do to stop him.”

Dalley nodded, acknowledging the weight of Christina’s words. “I share your concerns. If Falkenham is our man, we’ll need solid evidence to prevent his escape and hold him accountable.”

Mrs. Dove-Lyon slumped into the back of her chair. “And here I was certain we had solved the case.”

“Please don’t be discouraged. You all appear to have a natural ability for investigation work. You are diligent, thorough, and you share and discuss what you’ve found. We will keep going until we have this solved.” He rose to leave. “If you will excuse me, I’d like to speak to Richard and let him know what we’ve found so far.” He turned toward the door.

Dalley hated loose ends. Aside from Falkenham, he remained troubled by the implications of Wolf’s attack. That’s what Wolf was doing, but why? Dalley nodded to Mrs. Murthy as she opened the door for him to leave. What does Richard have that Wolf wants?

Deep in thought, he stepped onto Gower Street, heading toward Berkeley Square. He walked along the crowded street when the idea struck him. Of course. “Miss Hartfield,” he murmured out loud.

“I beg your pardon, sir,” the woman beside him said, her eyes narrowing in curiosity.

Dalley looked at her, momentarily flustered. His mind raced for an explanation. “Ah, forgive me,” he stammered. “I was merely recalling a delightful encounter.”

The woman’s expression softened, and she chuckled. “A fortunate woman, indeed.”

Dalley smiled, tipped his hat, and continued on his way, leaving the woman with a bemused smile.