Previously:
Salon Privé, Alain Ducasse at The Dorchester, Mayfair, London, England, September 2014
They came outside into the crisp evening air. Valets and doormen ran here and there, moving cars around and ushering guests in and out of the hotel.
"Can I offer anyone a lift?" Matthew asked, handing his ticket to a valet.
"No thank you, Matthew," Cora smiled. "We're dropping Sybil and Edith off on our way out of the city, and Mary's heading out."
"A date?" Matthew asked, looking at Mary inquisitively.
"An appointment," Mary replied curtly.
"Well, good night, then," Matthew said to Mary.
He shook hands with Robert, nodded to Cora and hugged Sybil and Edith.
A sleek black sports car approached and parked at the kerb, its bright lights casting a blue tinged glow.
"Heavens, what a snappy chariot!" Cora remarked, glancing at the car.
"It's Japanese," Robert said. "Not to my taste, but I'm sure it's quite fun to drive."
A valet came up to the group as they finished saying their goodbyes.
"Your driver will be here shortly, sir," the valet nodded to Robert. The valet then turned to Matthew and handed him a remote key fob.
"Sir," the valet nodded.
"Thank you," Matthew tipped the valet. He then got into the black sports car and pulled away from the kerb with a growl of the engine.
"My, Matthew has a rather nice car," Sybil remarked.
"Probably compensating for something else he's lacking in," Mary muttered.
Chapter 2:
Downton Abbey, Yorkshire, England, December 2002
"How many official languages does Switzerland recognise?" Sybil asked, turning the card over and nodding when she read the answer in her head. She looked up at Mary expectantly.
Mary frowned. She glanced down at the board, then back up at her sister.
"Sometime today, Mary," Matthew sighed, drumming his fingers on the table.
"Shut up. I know this," Mary scoffed. "French, Italian, German…three. The answer is three."
"Wrong!" Matthew laughed gleefully, clapping his hands and doing a poor impression of a buzzer on a television game show.
Edith giggled.
"It's four," Sybil said sympathetically.
"What? How?" Mary snarled, reaching over and grabbing the question card from Sybil's hand.
"Hey! That's not allowed!" Matthew pointed out.
Mary ignored him and read the answer.
"Argh...Romansh? That's not even a real language!" Mary cried.
"Well, apparently it still is to the Swiss," Matthew grinned. "I'm shocked, Mary. All those trips to Geneva and ski vacations in the Alps. That question was tailor-made for you."
"Keep talking," Mary glared at him, moving her game piece away from the hub in the middle of the board. "I'm still only one answer away from winning."
"As am I," Matthew declared smugly. "And it's my turn."
"Bully for you," Mary rolled her eyes.
"What category should we pick for him?" Edith asked her sisters.
"Not Science or Sports," Mary said, smirking at Matthew. "Don't give the geek over here anything easy."
"I object to that term!" Matthew protested.
"Fine," Mary smiled. "Don't give the anorak over here anything easy."
Matthew shook his head ruefully.
"Arts & Entertainment?" Sybil suggested.
Mary thought for a moment, then nodded her assent.
Edith pulled the next card from the box and read out the question.
"What film was Marilyn Monroe fired from just before her death?" Edith asked.
Mary smiled. "You'll never guess this one. It's about a beautiful woman, something you have very little experience with."
Matthew rolled his eyes. "Can you repeat the question, please, Edith?" he asked.
Mary shook her head in annoyance.
"What film was Marilyn Monroe fired from just before her death?" Edith asked again.
"Hmm," Matthew said, quirking his eyebrow and staring off into space.
"Sometime today, please, Matthew," Mary huffed after several seconds.
Matthew muttered to himself, his voice low and inaudible.
"I'm sorry, Matthew, perhaps Pharoah can hear what you're saying, but you need to actually speak up for us humans to hear your answer," Mary said mockingly.
Matthew turned and looked at her, his blue eyes staring at her unblinkingly.
"Something's Got to Give," he said confidently, enunciating each word and keeping his eyes locked on Mary's the entire time.
Mary's mouth fell open in shock.
"He's right," Edith shook her head.
"Yes!" Matthew hollered. He leapt to his feet and jumped up and down, pumping his fist several times in celebration.
Sybil laughed at him.
Edith smiled.
Mary fumed.
"Well, ladies, that's three in a row," Matthew said happily as he sat back down. "Here's a thought. This time, I'll let each of you start with a pie piece of your choice. Give you a fighting chance, eh?"
Mary grit her teeth, her lips sealed tight as she grew angrier at the sight of Matthew's beaming face.
"What's going on over here?" Patrick called as he came into the room.
"We're playing Trivial Pursuit. Matthew's winning," Sybil said helpfully.
Matthew smiled at her.
"How boring," Patrick sighed.
"You're only saying that because you're awful at it," Matthew shot back, his pleased smile unwavering.
"Hardly," Patrick chuckled. "Though I would be hard pressed to take on an anorak like you."
Mary chuckled with satisfaction.
Matthew's smile dropped and he made a small grunting noise.
"Well, I'll leave you to it," Patrick said. "I'm going to go get a beer."
"How? You know we're not allowed," Matthew frowned, finally looking up at Patrick. "Everything is locked away for the party tonight, to say nothing for the fact that we're underage."
"I'll grab one off one of the footmen, Inspector," Patrick shrugged. "It isn't hard. Do you think they would refuse me or even care about my age? Anyone else want to come?"
"Certainly," Mary grinned, getting up from her chair.
"Mary!" Sybil exclaimed. "You can't drink!"
"Don't worry, darling," Mary assured her sister. "I'm only going to see how the food is coming along. I've had about enough of this lovely game."
"I'm shocked you even lasted as long as you did," Patrick smiled, motioning for her to go on ahead of him. They both left the room laughing.
Matthew frowned as he watched them leave.
"You get to go first, Matthew," Edith said, interrupting his thoughts.
"Oh, right," Matthew said, turning his attention back to the game.
Crockfords Casino, Mayfair, London, England, September 2014
"And you remember Anna, of course," Mary said, gesturing to her assistant.
"Of course," Matthew smiled and nodded. "Anna, good to see you again."
"Mr. Crawley," Anna replied professionally.
The three of them walked into the boardroom. Mary sat down in the seat in the centre, directly facing the glass door. Matthew placed his briefcase in front of the chair next to hers. He remained standing. Anna took the seat next to Mary.
"Now, we should go through each of the different properties. They aren't all operated in the same manner…" Mary began, pressing the button on her tablet.
"One moment, Mary," Matthew interrupted, leaning on the back of his chair. "I'm just waiting for someone to join us."
"Who?" Mary turned her head and frowned at him. "I wasn't aware there was anyone else coming to the meeting."
"Ah, right on time," Matthew said, ignoring her question and looking up as another man walked into the boardroom.
Mary glanced up and narrowed her eyes as the stranger came around the table and approached Matthew. He was slightly taller than Matthew, with black hair and hazel eyes. His charcoal suit was custom tailored, and similar in cut and style to Matthew's navy blue.
"Matthew," the man smiled, shaking his hand.
"Mary, this is Alex Lewis. He's going to be helping me out a bit. Alex, Lady Mary Crawley, Vice-President, Operations, and her assistant, Anna Smith," Matthew said, making the introductions.
"Lady Mary," Alex bowed respectfully. "Miss Smith," he nodded to Anna.
"Hello," Mary said curtly, turning to Matthew. "Well, since your man is new, would you like a tour? We renovated since the last time you were here."
"I think we can find our way around later, thank you," Matthew said. "There's a few people I'd like to speak to. If they could be brought up here now, that would be best. Alex?"
Alex produced three copies of a list from his folio. He passed them down the table to Matthew, Mary and Anna.
Mary glanced briefly at the list, then swept it off to the side.
"This wasn't put on the agenda," she pointed out to Matthew.
"Oh, it will only take a moment, then we can get back to your talking points," Matthew said breezily as he and Alex took their seats.
"Any specific reason that you want to see these people in particular?" she asked.
"Oh, you know," Matthew smiled. "Just wanted to give them a little pep talk from the new boss, is all."
Mary studied him for a moment, before turning to Anna.
"Bring them up. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can all get back to doing real work," Mary said.
"Does anyone mind if I tag along with Anna for a bit? I'd like to get better acquainted with how things are done around here," Alex said.
Mary glanced over at Anna, who shrugged indifferently.
"Go ahead," Mary said, waving her hand in the direction of the door.
The two assistants headed out, with Alex holding the door open for Anna to walk through first.
"Pep talk from the new boss, is it?" Mary asked.
"You know me," Matthew replied. "I'm all about making a good first impression."
Mary arched her eyebrow at his comment, then looked away and began browsing the screen of her phone.
"Let's hope you've improved by leaps and bounds in that area, for your sake," she replied, not bothering to lower her voice.
Matthew rose from his chair and walked over to look out the window, keeping his back turned as he waited for the named employees to be brought up.
When the group of thirteen people had gathered in the boardroom, Matthew and Mary sat facing them, with Anna and Alex sitting on either side of them. Matthew glanced from one employee to another, then sat back in his chair.
"For those of you who don't know me, my name is Matthew Crawley. I've been brought in to be the new Managing Director of the Crawley Group," he said crisply. "This is my assistant, Alex Lewis. Mr. Lewis is going to read out a few names. Once your name is called, if you could please stand over to the right. Thank you."
Alex proceeded to read out four names. The named individuals stepped off to the right of the rest of the group, glancing at each other nervously.
"Now, Mr. Lewis will read off another group of names, and I'd like those individuals to please stand off to the left. Thank you," Matthew instructed.
Alex proceeded to read out two names. The two identified employees shuffled off to the left, looking around in confusion at the rest of the group.
"The seven of you in the middle," Alex called. "When I read your name, please raise your hand. Sarah O'Brien…Thomas Barrow…"
Alex read out seven names and all seven of the people standing in the middle group raised their hands slowly.
Mary kept a bored expression across her face. Inside, she was wondering what the point was of this exercise.
"That's all of them," Alex said to Matthew.
Matthew leaned forward in his chair.
"You seven," Matthew said, nodding to the group in the middle. "Crawley Group thanks you for your service. You are no longer required as part of our operations. Security will escort you downstairs and assist you in cleaning out your personal effects from the locker room. You will then be escorted out through the employees' entrance. You'll be receiving documents in the post shortly detailing the terms of the termination of your employment. Thank you, and have a nice day."
Mary blinked in surprise.
The seven fired employees all stared wide-eyed at Matthew, then at Mary, then at each other.
"Please move along, thank you," Alex said crisply. The now ex-employees all complied, turning and walking out into the hall, where security guards walked them to the elevator.
"What are you doing?" Mary hissed under her breath.
Matthew waved his hand, dismissing her question.
"The four of you on the right, Crawley Group thanks you for your service. We're pleased to have you all onboard. You can go back downstairs and return to your positions," Matthew said politely.
The four employees quickly scurried from the room, afraid that he might change his mind.
Mary continued to seethe, though her expression remained impassive and detached.
"You two, Mr. Mason and Mr. Kent, is it?" Matthew asked, looking over at the two remaining employees.
"Yes, sir," William said, stepping forward and swallowing nervously.
"Yes, sir," Jimmy said, following William's lead and looking at him before turning his attention back to Matthew.
"Mr. Kent, Crawley Group thanks you for your service. You can go back downstairs to your post," Matthew said.
"Thank you, sir," Jimmy said, bowing slightly. He turned and left the room briskly.
"Mr. Mason," Matthew said, staring at William. "You're a doorman, correct?"
"Yes, sir," William said, swallowing again.
"Do you enjoy being a doorman, Mr. Mason?" Matthew asked.
Mary frowned.
William glanced at Anna, his face awash with concern and confusion.
"Mr. Mason?" Matthew asked again.
"Yes, sir," William nodded, turning back to Matthew. "I do enjoy it, sir."
"And do you intend to be a doorman for the rest of your life, Mr. Mason?" Matthew asked, his tone even.
Mary frowned again, then resumed her calm demeanour.
"Yes, sir," William nodded.
"Truly, Mr. Mason?" Matthew asked. "Was that what your parents intended for you? That's all that you aspire to be?"
"Well…" William said, glancing at Anna again, then back at Matthew. "No, sir. That is, I very much enjoy my job, sir."
"But if you had your choice of which job you would have here, Mr. Mason, would doorman be your preference?" Matthew asked.
"N…no, sir," William shook his head reluctantly.
"Good," Matthew smiled. "Mr. Mason, you are no longer a doorman. I'm promoting you to be part of my personal staff, effective immediately."
William gasped in surprise.
"What?" Mary blurted out, looking at Matthew incredulously.
"Mr. Lewis will escort you into the office down the hall there and fill you in on your expected duties and responsibilities," Matthew continued, nodding to William. "He'll also have a package for you, including your new employment contract. Please feel free to go over it with a lawyer if you like before you decide whether to accept my offer. I do hope that you find the position preferable to your current circumstances, though, Mr. Mason, and that you'll give us a chance."
"Thank you, sir!" William nodded. He stood still until Alex rose from the table and walked around to him. William slowly turned and left the office as Alex held the door open for him.
"What the hell was that about?" Mary exclaimed, rounding on Matthew once Alex and William had left. "You can't just fire seven people from our staff without consulting me!"
"Those seven people were stealing from you," Matthew said calmly. He reached into his briefcase and retrieved two red folders. He passed one to Mary and another one to Anna. "They were pocketing tips instead of putting them into the employee pool, and were working with accomplices to rig some of your table games. You'll find the reports on each of them to be rather comprehensive, and quite entertaining reading, I might add."
"How did you find this out?" Mary asked, scanning over the papers on each of the fired employees."
"Simple. I had everyone working on the casino floor investigated," Matthew said. "My people reported back to me that these seven were engaging in rather improper conduct."
"Your people?" Mary frowned. "You sent investigators into the casino without telling us?"
"Telling you would defeat the purpose of the investigation, Mary, which was to be as discrete as possible," Matthew explained. "But, feel free to rehire those employees if you like, so long as you agree to take sole responsibility for them."
Mary closed the folder and set it aside.
"And the four that you kept? What about them?" Mary asked.
"I chose them at random. They're clean," Matthew said. "I needed witnesses to spread the word that we fired the others. It'll help deter the remaining employees from behaving badly."
Mary looked at Anna, then back at Matthew.
"Well, thank you for the use of the boardroom," Matthew said, closing up his briefcase and getting up from his chair. "I have a meeting, so I need to head out. The items on your agenda can wait, I trust?"
"What about Mason?" Mary asked as Matthew reached the door. "Why did you promote him to your staff?"
Matthew turned and looked back at her. He paused for a moment as if he was considering something.
"I liked the way he greeted me when I arrived this morning," Matthew said.
Mary frowned in disbelief.
Matthew walked down the hall to the elevator and left.
"He's even worse than I thought he'd be," Mary muttered.
Anna smiled and went about organizing her papers as Mary stewed.
Military Intelligence, Section 5, Thames House, Millbank, London, England, September 2014
"Look alive there, lads," the Director barked as he came into the meeting room. The agents all adjusted their posture and sat up straight in their chairs. The Director walked past them to the lectern at the front of the room. Accompanying the director was a short man with slightly messy dark brown hair and a shadow of stubble across his chin.
"As you all know, we've been collaborating with other departments to try and coordinate our efforts in taking down some of these crime families," the Director said, holding on to the edges of the lectern. "We're dealing with criminals who have been carrying on for over a century. They're well organized and they've got lawyers who make sure that nothing sticks to them. That's why the usual charges – money laundering, prostitution, drug trafficking – they don't work anymore. We've had far more success with smaller offences that we can use to catch them and have them roll over on the bigger fish. That's what our guest here is going to talk to you about. I want you all to pay attention to Mr. Charles Blake of Revenue & Customs."
The Director stepped back and gestured for Mr. Blake to step forward. Charles approached the lectern and adjusted the microphone down to his level. He placed one hand on the podium, then nodded to the assembled agents before he began.
"Thank you for having me. Now, as the Director has mentioned, HMRC has been working with MI5 for a while now to coordinate investigation into organized crime in Britain. We've done better as of late, because it's far easier for us to prove that an individual has committed tax fraud, tax evasion or another similar offence than it is to link any person to a murder, drug transaction or more serious crime. We're now looking to expand our scope beyond the traditional crime families to the organizations that we think are much bigger."
Charles clicked a button on the remote control in his other hand and a series of slides came up on the large screen at the front of the room.
"When we think about crime families, we think about gangs that came out of poor neighbourhoods in East London, or immigrants who settled here in the past and brought drugs, prostitution and gambling with them," Charles lectured. "All of these are low level groups; criminals to be sure, but their territory is usually small and they're nothing compared to the large cartels that we know of in South America, Russia or Asia. There's a different group, though, that we're now investigating"
Charles stopped the slideshow at a black and white photograph of a large country estate home.
"In the late 18th century, the power base of British Society began shifting. Back then, the landed gentry, the aristocrats, controlled the wealth and political power of the Empire. Over the centuries, through war, taxation, and the passing of new laws, the money and the influence of the ruling class was drastically reduced, to the point that by World War I, many of them were bankrupt and did not enjoy the same control of the government that they did in generations past," Charles said, glancing at the slide.
"What's this now? A history lesson or a briefing?" one agent whispered to another at the back of the room.
"Now why is this important?" Charles asked rhetorically. "Well, as you can imagine, the elites did not take very well to losing their homes, their lifestyle or their privileges. Even though their fortunes were eroded by taxes and death duties and so on, a select few had the foresight to reorganize their affairs so that their wealth and power could be preserved for generations to come. They opened what appeared to be legitimate businesses and used the profits and losses from those businesses to pay or reduce their taxes. While keeping the government at bay, they became more and more involved in illegal activities, hiding their revenues, avoiding taxes and building their wealth back up. By hanging on to their properties as much as possible, they kept control of land that would eventually be worth millions, permitting them to finance their operations further, all while the government remained in the dark."
Some of the agents frowned as the weight of Charles' words seeped in.
"This new type of crime family, which is really not new at all, had the best of all worlds," Charles continued. "They stayed away from the types of crime that normally would draw scrutiny from the authorities; very seldom did they deal in drugs or prostitution. Instead, they focused on money laundering, gambling, and tax evasion, keeping more and more of their wealth within the family and, over the decades, building a network of shadow companies to shield themselves from investigation. Rather than prey on regular citizens, they delude themselves into thinking that they're merely stealing from the government, and therefore are justified in keeping what they think belongs to them. We estimate that these families have avoided paying taxes to Her Majesty well into the hundreds of millions of pounds, and that's a conservative estimate, keeping in mind that we don't actually know the true reach of these families."
Charles had everyone's attention now.
"The genius of these crime families is that they are virtually impossible to distinguish from normal, law abiding, and successful family businesses. They've been covering up their activities since the early 20th century, and with today's technology and the global reach of some of these families, trying to catch them is the biggest challenge that any of us will likely ever face."
He paused and looked around the room from one agent to another.
"So, who's up for it?" he asked with a smirk.
Crockfords Casino, Mayfair, London, England, September 2014
"Mr. Mason, how may I help you?" Matthew asked.
"Mr. Crawley, sir, I was wondering if you needed me this weekend in Yorkshire, sir," William asked.
"No, I should be fine," Matthew replied, still looking at his monitors. "I'll drive down on Friday and the meeting is on Saturday. I expect we'll be back here by Sunday morning at the latest. I'm trying to get back Saturday night if I can."
"Very good, sir," William nodded.
"Something else on your mind, Mr. Mason?" Matthew asked, not looking up but still noticing that William had not left his office.
"Mr. Crawley, sir, I was hoping that I could have my old job back," William mumbled.
"Excuse me?" Matthew asked.
"I…I don't quite know…well, you see, I just don't think I'm qualified to be an…executive assistant…or whatever it is you want me to be, sir. I…well, I would much appreciate it if I could have my old job back, sir," William said.
"You wish to go back to being a doorman, Mr. Mason?" Matthew asked.
"Yes, please, sir," William nodded.
"Well, unfortunately we've already hired a new doorman so your old position is no longer available to be filled," Matthew said, turning in his chair and getting up. He walked over to the small fridge and took out a bottle of water.
"But, sir…" William said with wide eyes.
Matthew swallowed his sip of water, then looked at William for the first time since the young man had come into his office. "Mr. Mason, you've been in your new position for less than a week. How do you know that you're not qualified to do the job, exactly?"
"Well, sir, it's just that Mr. Lewis went to Oxford and you went to Cambridge, sir," William said.
"Yes, and?" Matthew shrugged, waving the bottle of water around dismissively.
"I never went beyond my A-levels, sir," William said nervously. "There must be someone else around, someone who went to London School of Economics or somewhere like that who could do the job for you, sir."
Matthew nodded in thought. He sipped his water again and walked slowly over to his desk. He sat down and continued to drink from the bottle.
William frowned, then blinked and stayed still, watching Matthew peculiarly.
Matthew finished his water, put the cap back on the bottle and promptly launched it across the room into the recycling bin.
"Mr. Mason," Matthew said crisply, turning his chair to face William. "What did Mr. Lewis tell you your job responsibilities would involve?"
"He…he said that I would be assisting you with your transition to London from Manchester, and that I would be helping you implement the different administrative systems that you prefer using, sir," William replied.
Matthew smiled. "And what does that mean, exactly, Mr. Mason?"
"I…I don't know, sir," William admitted.
"Good," Matthew nodded. "Have a seat, please, Mr. Mason."
William blinked in surprise, then quickly moved to sit down in the chair across from Matthew's desk.
Matthew began typing quickly on his keyboard.
"Mr. Mason, as esteemed as some institutions of higher learning may be, there are certain vital skills that post-secondary education unfortunately does not teach very well," Matthew said, moving his mouse around, then resuming his typing. "Alex had a wonderful time at Oxford, but Oxford did not teach him how to use his eyes. I was very enriched by my time at Cambridge, but Cambridge did not teach me how to listen. Do you follow?"
"Yes…sir," William said slowly. "There are some things that university didn't teach you."
"Precisely," Matthew nodded. He stopped typing and reached toward one of the monitors on his desk. He spun the monitor around so it was now facing William.
"Do you recognize this man, Mr. Mason?" Matthew asked.
Matthew looked closely at the screen for several seconds.
"Yes, sir. That's Mr. Abramovich, sir," William nodded.
"Very good, Mr. Mason. It most certainly is," Matthew smiled. "And what is Mr. Abramovich known for?"
"He's the owner of Chelsea, sir," William answered.
"That he is," Matthew nodded. "And when was the last time that Mr. Abramovich visited our lovely casino here, Mr. Mason?"
"That would have been just a few weeks ago, sir," William said. "He came in with a large group. They enjoyed themselves quite a bit, from what I heard, sir."
"That they did, Mr. Mason," Matthew nodded. "Mr. Abramovich was here following Chelsea's victory over Everton. He had such a good time that night that he decided to invest a significant amount of money in a small oil venture in Asia the next morning. Do you remember anything significant about Mr. Abramovich that evening, Mr. Mason?"
"No, sir. He came in with his group and stayed for quite a while. I think he left around 2 o'clock in the morning, sir," William said.
"Right," Matthew said, glancing at the second computer monitor on his desk. He moved his mouse and dragged another image on to the screen facing William.
"Do you recognize this man, William?" Matthew asked.
William stared at the screen. "Yes, sir. I don't know who he is, but he was there that night, with Mr. Abramovich."
"That he was," Matthew smiled. "His name isn't important but he's the man who sold the shares in that oil venture in Asia to Mr. Abramovich. They spent hours eating, drinking and gambling, and by the time you opened the door for them to leave the casino in the wee hours of the next day, they had an agreement in place. Now, the whole world knows, today, weeks later, that the agreement was entered into, but that night when Mr. Abramovich had his party here at the casino, only you, and a few select others, would have seen those two men enter and leave together. That information, had it been known at the time, would have been quite valuable, Mr. Mason."
"Sir?" William asked in confusion.
"Mr. Lewis is going to set you up with a series of photographs, very similar to the ones I've just shown you," Matthew said, turning the monitor back around. "I want you to note anything and everything that you can remember about the people that you see in those pictures. No detail is too insignificant. I also want you to circulate around the casino floor from time to time each day and evening. Speak to your friends, your co-workers, the other doormen, the dealers, the valets, the servers, the bartenders, the escorts that are ushered into the casino discreetly through the side entrance. I want you to be my eyes and ears in this place. You may not have a university degree, but you have something far more valuable to me, Mr. Mason. You have credibility. You're known as a hard working and conscientious person; a nice fellow. That means that people will be willing to share gossip with you because they trust you. It also means that people will tend to have loose tongues around you because they don't see you as a threat to them, as someone who is ruthless and conniving and might betray their confidence. Believe me when I say, Mr. Mason, that you are eminently qualified for this position."
"Yes, sir," William swallowed, his eyes wide. "Thank you, sir. I…I won't let you down, sir."
"No, I am quite confident that you won't," Matthew smiled, sitting back in his chair. "Now go on back to your office and get started. I think Alex should have the first batch loaded and ready for you."
"Thank you, sir! Right away, sir!" William nodded eagerly, rising to his feet and continuing to nod as he backed his way out of Matthew's office and walked briskly down the hall.
Matthew smiled and shook his head as the young man scampered off.
Downton Abbey, Yorkshire, England, September 2014
"What do you think, Matthew?" Robert asked.
The rest of the family watched Matthew carefully, awaiting his answer.
Matthew flipped the pages of the large document, then closed it up and slid it across the table.
"I'd say he's got a great case," Matthew answered.
Mary rolled her eyes.
"But he obviously cheated us," Robert scoffed. "What in God's name is 'edge sorting'? We've been in this business for generations and I've never heard of it."
"Edge sorting, reading the cards, card counting, call it whatever you like," Matthew said easily. "The point is that the House is supposed to be equipped to sniff out these attempts at gaining an advantage in any card game. Patrick could have very easily prevented this with a few simple measures, and he didn't. He was probably too busy bragging that he had the world's foremost poker player betting a million pounds in our casino to realize that we actually could end up losing."
Mary frowned. She had to admit that she agreed with Matthew there. This was all Patrick's colossal fuck-up, and could have been avoided if he'd only shown some foresight and taken proper precautions.
"So that's it? We get cheated, he sues us, and now we'll have to pay him?" Robert exclaimed.
"I didn't say that," Matthew noted calmly. "I said he's got a great case, and he does. Everyone loves a tale of the casino being taken by a lone player, even if this lone player is a millionaire professional gambler and had an accomplice with him. But I think there's enough here that we can fight him off, at least in this first skirmish anyway."
"What do you mean by that?" Edith asked. "It won't be over after this?"
"Of course it won't be," Mary huffed, glaring at her sister.
"Whoever loses the court case will appeal, so no, it won't end with this trial," Matthew nodded at Mary in agreement. "There are ways we can turn this to our advantage though."
"And how is that?" Robert frowned.
"First, ensure that our defence is sound and layered with multiple arguments. Argue that he manipulated us. He made abnormal requests for specific sets of cards, a specific croupier and a specific table. He changed the odds in his favour, which we were unaware of. We agreed to his requests because he was a well-known VIP that we've hosted many times. Never in a million years would we have suspected he was using this bizarre 'edge sorting' strategy to take advantage of us. We don't even know what 'edge sorting' means. It isn't a common practice in Britain, so how would we know to guard ourselves against it?"
Robert nodded, a slight smile coming to his lips as he followed along.
"Now the man's a lawyer," Mary said, rolling her eyes at Sybil.
"Well, I did study law at Cambridge," Matthew shrugged, not bothering to look at Mary as he deflected her quip.
Sybil and Edith chuckled.
Mary didn't.
Matthew went on. "The point is that our theory of the case should be that this was not merely one man taking advantage of an error that we made. He deliberately misled us to gain an advantage in the game. The public will side with him; that can't be helped. But the Judge should be on our side, so long as we stick to a consistent story that he changed the very rules of the game on us."
"I see," Robert nodded.
"The investigators have hours of video footage," Mary said. "We can show that he and his female accomplice were playing the croupier from the very beginning."
"Where is the croupier now?" Robert asked.
"Already out of the country. Matthew fired her," Mary smirked.
"Good," Robert nodded. "Then we won't need to take steps to ensure she doesn't testify."
"The Judge's decision itself isn't as important as what we do afterwards though," Matthew said.
"In what way?" Robert asked.
"The trial will get us a lot of publicity and attention, whether we want it or not. We should be very careful about what we say. We don't want the government to start wondering about what else we may be up to. We also do not want any high limit players to think that we are being unfair, or that we enjoy airing our grievances in public. After all, he sued us, not the other way around. When we win, we should immediately be ready with a statement that says we regret how all of this transpired, that we greatly respect our clients and their right to privacy and that we are satisfied to have protected our reputation for fair, honest, and professional conduct," Matthew explained.
"Excellent," Robert smiled. "Mary?"
"I'll have Anna work with PR to have a spokesman and a statement ready to go in the event of either outcome," Mary nodded.
"Another thing," Matthew said. "Robert, you must remain here. You can't attend the trial and bring undue attention on the family."
Mary blinked and stared at Matthew.
"You sound like Mary," Robert grumbled.
"And she's right," Matthew nodded. "The last thing we want is to turn this into a faceoff between the Plaintiff and you. The longer we remain just a casino, the better. Involving the Earl of Grantham directly in all this is something we do not want."
"Then, if not Robert, who will be there with Murray and provide instructions?" Cora asked.
"With Patrick gone, the next recognizable name and face for Crockfords is Mary's. She can represent all of us," Matthew replied.
Mary's eyes went wide in surprise. She composed herself and looked at her father, waiting for his response.
Robert tapped his fingers slowly on the table as he contemplated Matthew's recommendation.
"Fine," Robert said finally.
Mary exhaled in relief.
"But I want both of you there," Robert continued. "Mary can sit at the counsel table with Murray, but I want you in that courtroom, Matthew, even if you're sitting at the back. I want to hear from you as to what happens in there."
Mary frowned. She looked up and saw Matthew staring at her.
"Of course, Robert," Matthew answered finally, turning to the Earl. "As you wish."
"Mama says you aren't staying for dinner?" Sybil asked Matthew as she came into the library.
"I wasn't planning on it, but your Granny had me change my mind," Matthew answered, looking up from his book. "I was hoping to be back to London by this evening, now I'll just leave a bit later."
"I'm surprised that Papa is letting you go," Sybil smiled.
"He wasn't pleased, no," Matthew laughed. "But we accomplished what we wanted. The meeting went well and we have a strategy for the trial. He knows that I'm of more use in the city anyway."
"I think you're just running away," Sybil teased.
"From what?" he asked.
"Among other things, from going to Church with all of us tomorrow," Sybil answered.
"Ah," Matthew laughed. "It has been many years since I last went, that's true."
"Well, come and find me before you go," Sybil said, turning for the door. "We are still on for dinner next week, yes?"
"We are, and I will," Matthew nodded. "Where's Mary, by the way?"
"Where else? In her hiding place," Sybil smiled at him before leaving the room.
Matthew ducked his head and passed through the low doorway. Straightening his posture, he stopped as he saw Mary standing across the room at the long table. She had changed clothes and was now wearing yoga pants, a fitted t-shirt and trainers. He watched as she meticulously went about her task, her hands moving with a practised ease. She fit the cleaned pieces of the gun back together in quick succession and slid the magazine in place with a satisfying 'click'.
As if sensing his presence, she paused before lifting the gun, and glanced back over her shoulder. He could almost make out the roll of her eyes as she turned away and took off her glasses and ear protectors.
"What are you doing down here?" she asked idly, switching the safety of the gun back on and putting it down on the table.
"Thought I'd come have a go," Matthew replied, walking up and standing beside her.
"That's a lie," Mary huffed, still looking down at the table rather than at him. "You hate shooting. You've never been good at it."
"That's rather unfair of you, isn't it? You haven't seen me shoot for years," Matthew replied.
"Witnessing your incompetence once was enough," Mary retorted. "Besides, where would you have practised? Do you expect me to believe you joined a gun club in Manchester?"
"Seems rather unbelievable, doesn't it?" Mathew smiled, looking down at the stone floor.
"Quite," Mary agreed. She stole a sideways glance at him and allowed herself to smirk at the memory of Matthew's disastrous turn at the gun range when they were teenagers.
Matthew looked up and watched her for a moment, then glanced across the room at the target.
"I wonder what the authorities would say if they knew that this room still existed, and that we still use it?" he mused.
"We don't really use it," Mary shrugged. "Besides, having an illegal gun range in the basement is the least of our crimes, isn't it?"
"I suppose that's right," Matthew laughed.
"I…should thank you," Mary hesitated, looking away from him. "For intervening this afternoon before I said something rude to Papa. I've been pleading with him for weeks to not attend the trial, and one word from you seems to have finally convinced him."
"I was just stating my opinion, what I thought made sense for everyone involved, including him," Matthew said.
"Of course," Mary rolled her eyes. "You're the one with the family's best interests at heart, and I'm the spoiled bitch who is just trying to keep Papa away so he doesn't see how much Patrick and I cocked things up."
"I'm sure he doesn't blame you for any of this," Matthew said.
"And I'm quite sure that he does," Mary laughed ruefully. "That was the plan all along, you know? Patrick and I would oversee our London operations and Papa would stay here, remaining in the background and away from scrutiny. He trusted us to keep things running smoothly and so Patrick's problems are my problems, especially now."
Matthew remained quiet.
"If you hadn't suggested that I attend the trial, he probably would have just ordered you to go in my place," Mary sighed.
"Well, that's not happening," Matthew said firmly. "You'll be sitting at the counsel table with Murray and you'll be giving him instructions. You won't even know I'm in the courtroom."
"I can just imagine what Papa will ask you when he calls each day," Mary said bitterly. "'How are things going?' 'Is the Judge on our side?' 'Can you believe what a mess Mary's made of this?'"
"We're all in this together here, Mary," Matthew interjected. "We all have the same goal – to get through this with as little damage as possible."
"Of course," Mary nodded. "Well, thank you for choosing my side on this, Matthew."
She put on her protective glasses and her ear covers back on. Matthew took that as his cue to leave and he stepped back and moved away as Mary picked up the gun.
He watched her from the doorway as she aimed and fired, holding the gun in front of her with both hands. The clap of the each bullet firing reverberated across the room. Mary stood rigid, arms raised in front of her, legs spread slightly. Matthew swallowed as his eyes lingered on the exposed nape of her neck, the sharp lines of her back, the curve of her bottom and her long legs. The sound of Mary firing another shot shook him from his reverie, and he quietly left the room and went back upstairs.
London Suite, Shangri-La Hotel, At The Shard, London, England, September 2014
"I'm surprised you made it back tonight," Alex said, taking a swig from his beer bottle. "I thought you'd be ordered to stay through to tomorrow."
"Violet wasn't particularly impressed. I was going to leave before dinner but she made me stay for that," Matthew smiled. "She said that if I ate with the family, then my leaving was only a little bit rude, rather than an affront to proper etiquette."
"And what did Lady Mary think of your abrupt departure?" Alex asked.
"She was probably dancing a jig to be rid of me," Matthew huffed, taking a sip of his Coke. "We managed to have a civil conversation, but only because I took her side when advising Robert."
"Well, it's something, at least," Alex smiled wryly and shook his head.
"A very small something," Matthew said sadly, looking over at the view of late evening London outside his window.
"Well, your poor manners aside, did you end up deciding on anything?" Alex asked.
"Yes. Robert wants me at the trial," Matthew sighed, taking another sip of his drink. "It shouldn't be more than two or three days at most, but I'll be in Court until four or five, and I expect that there will be debriefings with Murray afterwards, so consider me unreachable until after dinner."
"Understood," Alex nodded, noting the days in the calendar on his smartphone.
"Since that takes away part of my week, you'll need to deal with that special project. It's probably more efficient that you do anyway," Matthew instructed.
"I expected that you would delegate it to me," Alex smiled. "I'll see what I can dig up. Anything else happen in Yorkshire?"
"As a matter of fact, yes, since we are on the subject of the special project," Matthew nodded. He reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and took out a smartphone.
"Robert was holding Patrick's personal effects, including this. It's been taken off the network, but the data should all still be there, as well as the link to his Cloud accounts," Matthew said, handing the phone to Alex.
Alex looked at the phone for a moment, then slid it into his pocket. "I'll look through it. Did Lord Grantham have anyone go over it yet?"
"Not that I'm aware of," Matthew shook his head. "He didn't volunteer the information and I didn't ask. I think he's still taking it quite hard. He couldn't even look at the items with me. He had one of the footmen show me to where they were being kept."
"I can't say that I blame him," Alex shrugged. "Losing Patrick probably dredged up bad memories of what happened to James."
"How could it not?" Matthew agreed. "Still, it isn't as though Robert could have done anything in either case."
"He probably doesn't see it that way," Alex replied.
"Of course he doesn't," Matthew said. "But the days when he could keep us all safe behind the walls of Downton are gone forever, if they ever even existed at all beyond his own imagination. His family is far too ambitious to be locked away, and in our world, once you try and build something worth having, you invite all manner of problems. It's inevitable, really."
"That drive back must have been longer than I thought," Alex smiled. "You've gone all existential on me."
"Hardly," Matthew smiled, finishing his drink. "I just think there's very limited value in dwelling on the past, particularly the bad memories, or even dreading the future, so I choose not to."
"Fair enough. Anything in particular that you want me to look for on Patrick's phone?" Alex asked.
"See if you can trace his steps over his last days," Matthew said, looking at his empty glass thoughtfully. "Find out if there's anything on that phone that will help us figure out who killed Patrick."
