“I suspected underhanded dealings,” he said at last, so quietly Nora had to lean nearer to hear him. “Questionable tactics. Pressure applied to clients. Perhaps even bribery of government officials.”
Mr. Pell’s eyes lifted to hers, and the look there made the skin along Nora’s arms prickle beneath her sleeves. “But this report indicates something far larger.”
Holding the paper with care, he studied it. “If Eden & Co. has been issuing false statements to clients, claiming investments that do not exist and returns never earned, how many of his transactions are fraudulent? Is this evidence of a widespread issue or merely the efforts to delay bankruptcy—like with the City of Glasgow Bank debacle?”
Mr. Pell’s mouth pressed into a thin line as he looked back down at the report. “His company is large and powerful. If it collapsed, it would ruin not only your father. This could shake the very foundations of Lombard Street. Of the country itself.”
“But we do not know that for certain. I know of only one lie upon that report, and that could easily be a mistake.” Nora paused and added, “Though I did see other reports listing Hatcher & Byrnes.”
“I will check the entire record, Miss Eden. It should be easy enough to verify with the individual companies, and that should give us a better sense of what is happening,” he said in a distracted manner, scribbling away at his notes.
Nora fiddled with her teacup, tapping the handle and twisting it this way and that, though she couldn’t bring herself to drink.
“Will you…” she paused, frowning as she sorted through her words. “I did not know who to speak to about this, and I was afraid that if I went to the police, they would ignore the problem. I don’t know if they would even believe me, but… We do not know what this is.”
Mr. Pell looked up from his notes and the report, his pencil still hovering above the page. “It has only been a few short years since the Glasgow fraud decimated the economy, and we are both old enough to recall the Overend, Gurney and Co. scandal before it. Improper reporting can cause as much of a panic as genuine fraud, and as much as I wish for a story, I assure you, I shan’t rush into accusations without doing my due diligence.”
The professional eagerness of moments ago faded into something graver, and his brows lowered as he studied her. “Are you certain you wish to give this to me? I admire your fortitude, but have you considered the ramifications—”
“I know what it will mean to me, personally,” said Nora, straightening as she drew in a deep but shaky breath. “We will lose everything, and I don’t know how we will manage. Heaven knows no one will wish to aid us once the truth comes to light, no matter how innocent the rest of us are.”
Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she added, “But what will happen to a good many families if my father is allowed to continue, unchecked? To remain silent is to be complicit, and my conscience cannot allow that. Whatever difficulties lie ahead, I cannot sacrifice others for our sake.”
Mr. Pell’s expression shifted at that, not softening precisely, but settling into something steadier. The pencil lowered at last, and he closed his notebook around one finger to keep the page.
“Then I will do my utmost to ensure the truth is handled carefully,” he said quietly. “And I will do everything to protect your anonymity.”
The promise should have comforted her more than it did. Instead, Nora felt only the strange emptiness that comes after a leap has already been taken, when one’s feet have left solid ground, and there is nothing to do but hope that one will arrive on the other side.
The tea shop bustled around them just as before: spoons clinking against cups, low voices, the bell above the door giving a faint jangle as someone entered from the street. Ordinary sounds. Ordinary people. A world still moving as though nothing of importance had occurred.
But now, the report lay in Mr. Pell’s keeping.
Nora looked down at her gloved hands, folded tightly in her lap, and forced her fingers to loosen. There was no turning back now.
Across the table, Mr. Pell tucked the paper carefully into his notebook, holding it there as though it were as precious as gold, and though her whole body felt hollowed out and trembling, Nora sat a little straighter.
Whatever else may come, this was the right choice.
The only choice.
Chapter 38
The Financial Gazette
Wednesday, 21 June 1882
“LORD LOMBARD’S” EMPTY LEDGER
A System of Fictitious Investments Alleged at Eden & Co.
Rumors have long attached themselves to the remarkable prosperity of Mr. Virgil Eden, the private banker whom society has eagerly embraced as “Lord Lombard,” yet documents lately placed before this reporter by an unnamed source suggest that Mr. Virgil Eden’s success rests upon a deception as simple as it is audacious.
The investment report, issued by Eden & Co., was reviewed and tested against the records of the companies named therein. No corresponding shares can be traced, no debentures were issued, and no holdings stand in the names represented within the records of those reputable companies. To an unsuspecting client, such a report would appear to prove his investments were sound and increasing, but in truth, it is nothing more than paper, ink, and a lie.
To date, no evidence exists of any investments made by Eden & Co. within those reputable firms, which leads one to questionwhere the money has gone, and if Lord Lombard’s institution has invested in any scheme or company.
If these allegations are borne out, the public is confronted not with a case of unlucky speculation or overeager bankers attempting to please their clients, but with a deliberate machinery of false confidence: a ledger filled with securities that do not exist, profits never earned, and fortunes entrusted to a thief…