Lady Aurelie Capet might well be flighty and willful and shallow. But she was still bloody young and nearly entirely alone in the world.
Hawkes thought of his sister, married, only a little older than Aurelie, living in Scotland, and to whom he’d just written to tell her he was, at last, free. And his mother, who had died while he was in prison. He would never see her again.
It seemed to him that someone ought to give a damn about the only miniature ever made of Lady Aurelie Capet.
He took a moment to contemplate the sheer sport of refusing to help, just for the pleasure of watching Brundage’s expression change. Of the mad, delicious righteousness of refusing the man’s money.
But his hand was already reaching out. He closed it around the miniature and dragged it slowly back across the table.
He hesitated.
Then he decisively slipped it into his pocket.
“I will find her,” Hawkes said evenly. “For fifteen percent more than the fee we earlier discussed.”
Brundage became alertly rigid. “Ten percent more. Half payable now, half upon completion of your assignment.”
“Done. In addition, I will require a sufficient budget in support of all aspects of the investigation, to be negotiated and agreed upon before I leave this evening, as well as at least fifty pounds in ready cash.” Bribery and blackmail and coercion and the like, if the search came to that, did not come cheap. “I will also need a general letter of introduction signed by you stipulating that I should be assisted with any inquiries on your behalf. Should I need to speak to someone who can’t be persuaded with a bottle of gin.”
Brundage winced. “Very well.”
There was no one Hawkes couldn’t persuade to speak to him. He had something else in mind for the letter of introduction.
Hawkes flashed a smile. “And perhaps you would be gracious enough to recommend a competent firm I can employ to assist me with my financial affairs, now that I will once again actually have financial affairs. One that will assist me in making investment decisions as clever as yours.”
Brundage returned his smile indulgently. “Harrigan & Sons in London manages mine.”
Three years ago, Brundage’s man of affairs had been a Mr. Markley. Hawkes had utterly disarmed him into letting him have a look at Brundage’s personal and embassy account books “as he greatly admired the earl, and wished to make sure he was doing his own correctly.”
It was a rare instance of overplaying his hand. He sensed his compliment had been conveyed to Brundage, because the earl liked compliments as much as he liked shiny things.
And he had a feeling Mr. Markley had been sackedrightabout the time Hawkes was being arrested.
They studied each other.
“Well, that’s settled then,” Brundage said with a little smile. “If anyone can find her it’s you, Hawkes. After all, she’s not Cafard.”
Hawkes offered him a smile and a slow nod, acknowledging the dig. Cafard—French for cockroach—was the name the Alien Office had assigned to a destructive scourge of a French spy because he excelled at disappearing into cracks, and he remained one of Hawkes’s few rankling failures. The only thing Hawkes thought he knew about the man was that his real name was Florian Vasseur. But he was uncertain even of this.
“I am probably the only man who can find her,” he said calmly.
Brundage went rigid.
But they both knew this was the only reason he’d ever send for Hawkes.
The silence elongated and so did Brundage’s ash. He finally, awkwardly, stabbed out his cheroot completely, as if it, like Lady Aurelie, had displeased him, too.
Hawkes leaned back to savor his. He liked a veil of smoke, on the whole. Especially during conversations like this one. But his mind was moving swiftly now.
“Who was the last person to see or speak to Lady Aurelie?”
“Her lady’s maid, Madame Aubert. She claims to know nothing about Aurelie’s whereabouts and refused to speak. She’s lying, of course. The woman was of course summarily dealt with.”
Hawkes said nothing. Brundage’s title and wealth meant he was accustomed to demanding things and getting them at once, a bit like a tyrannical infant. He’d never needed to learnstrategy. It was the only way to get something you wanted if you had no money or power. And formulating strategy meant understanding that every person, from thieves to earls, was a delicate puzzle.
“I will of course speak to her,” he said.
Brundage nodded curtly.