Chapter 7 (Ronnie K)
The ornate clock over the fireplace began to chime, signaling time for luncheon. The bald gentleman seated at the antique desk in the middle of the large library took no notice, however, chewing absently at an ink stained finger while pondering the figures in the ledger in front of him.
Lord Lex Luthor, Earl of Montefort, felt the mundane tasks of household budget and management were beneath him, but it was imperative that he keep a personal eye on his finances. Every farthing would be needed in the months to come if his plans were to bear the fruit he desired. His eyes and ears across the kingdom, and beyond, cost almost nothing by themselves but when added together—well, it was necessary to take a personal hand in his finances to make sure nothing was wasted. The laundering of francs from his foreign supporters made it more complicated yet. Still it was a tedious chore.
Before the clock had chimed for the fourth time, the double doors opened to admit the immaculately dressed butler bearing Lord Luthor's luncheon tray. Luthor insisted that all his staff be more than presentable, especially the household staff. He had many visitors at all hours of the day and night and his staff was the first thing most of his `friends' noticed. His staff was an extension of him and they would present themselves appropriately at all times. Two footmen and a maid had found this out the hard way. Their bodies had been found in alleys outside of town. The rest of his people got the hint.
He knew that power came from ones wealth but respectability came from how one appeared to the rest of the fools and fops of this society. He would use both of these things to his advantage in the times to come. Every detail needed to be perfect. And they would be perfect, even if he had to fill those alleyways with bodies.
The butler carefully laid the sterling silver tray upon a corner of the large desk and hesitated. Luthor did not even look up. The servant hesitated a moment more before clearing his throat. At this, the Earl finally locked a questioning eye upon his steward. "Milord Luthor, I've news." Butlers had their own eyes and ears, a fact which Luthor used to his own advantage. Especially now.
The man, clearly uneasy, hesitated yet again, precipitating the verbal explosion he had hoped to avoid in the first place. "Out with it, man! I haven't got all day to listen to your twaddle!"
Unhinged for a moment, the butler took a moment to gather himself before getting to his point.
"Milord, I've `eard from one o me blokes on the street…" Putting up a hand, Luthor cut the man short.
"First of all, Wembley, I have warned you before about sounding like some street urchin in my presence. Second, you have come to tell me that Kent has been assigned to investigate the attempts on Lady Diana. Have you anything new to tell me, Wembley, or shall I dispense with your services now?"
Wembley, for his part, was unfazed by his superior's uncanny ability to learn of events quickly. He had seen this talent many times before. However, the wily butler had his own sources of information. Enough information to keep himself employed, and alive.
"But did you know that the inspector has not only taken over the investigation, but is personally guarding the lady in question? Will this not upset our plans?"
It was well known within the Luthor household that Inspector Kent was a major thorn in the side of their lord and master. Too many times had Lord Luthor begun in intrigue only to have the indefatigable Kent interfere and ruin it. It seemed that he knew the measure of Luthor, yet could bring no formal charges against the cagey earl. Luthor knew how to cover himself and was vexed time and again at having to use that talent. This new development could not be a good thing, and so the butler was surprised that after a moment of deep thought, his master smiled.
"Our plans, Wembley? Since you bring me such good news, I will excuse such impertinence. Never let it happen again or I'll reunite you with that maid you thought was so fetching."
After an involuntary gulp, the butler went to smooth things over with his tempestuous lord. "Beggin'---um, I beg your pardon, milord. It will never happen again. But why is it good news that Kent is sticking his nose into your business again?"
Standing up abruptly, and pacing the room, Luthor explained. "This is why I am the master and you are the servant, Wembley. Where you see obstacles, I see opportunities. This is my opportunity not only to get the power and wealth I desire, but to get rid of that nuisance Kent at the same time."
"I don't understand, milord."
"Of course you don't. I'll explain it so even you can comprehend it then. Once we've managed to assassinate the good lady, my spies can begin to rouse the rabble in her native Greece. Once stirred up enough (with a little help from my spies in her court), their queen will have no choice but to declare war on England. When their ships leave port, our own simpleton of a monarch will have no choice but to answer by shifting his full fleet to meet the queen's armada. Once that has begun, we signal our French allies to attack from the southwest while England's defenses are occupied east. From there, it should not take much to storm the capital and for me to assume the throne, especially after some carefully considered rumors (started by you) insinuating that there is no fleet and that the king is becoming senile. Our spies in the palace will ensure not only that the rumors are true, but they will make sure that the king has an unfortunate accident as I ascend to the throne. I know this sounds incredibly complex to your tiny brain, but its greatest virtue is its simplicity."
"But what if the queen doesn't send her ships?"
"T'would be better if she did not. My people in the court will make sure that everyone believes that the fleet is coming whether they are or not."
Deep in unfamiliar cogitation, the butler finally asked "But what has that to do with Kent, Lord Luthor?"
Luthor's wicked laugh seemed to drop the temperature of the chilly room even more. "Why, who else would be such a perfect scapegrace for the murder of Lady Diana, than the overly unctuous Kent? It will fit my plans perfectly while at the same time eliminating that foolish inspector. Of course, as monarch, I would personally have to hang the man responsible for such a needless war. Is Kent on our guest list?"
Luthor turned at the movement behind him. Walking towards him with a languorous gait was a woman of above average height, her blonde hair styled in ringlets today swaying with every step on what were, judging by the occasional glimpse, very shapely legs. A beautiful woman, known only as Mercy, she was not well known beyond the household. Luthor kept her there as his sometime lover and ever present attaché. Her main employ at present was running the household. She did so with a hand of iron, as any scullery maid or footman could tell you. The bodies found in the alleyways were also her work. A woman of diverse talents. The talents called into play at present, however, were her social engagement skills. She critically scanned a sheet of paper as she approached.
"No, Lord Luthor, Kent is not on the guest list. Shall I add him? The invite can be sent `round today, if it pleases you."
"It would please me much, Mercy. And invite that Lane chit too. I would like this to be a most memorable evening, if at all possible."
At the mention of Lane, Mercy began to pout.
"Now, now, Mercy. You know that you are the only one for me." he cooed. The oily insincerity of the statement was completely lost on the woman. It was not lost on Wembley, however, who had to hide a smile. He had seen what happens to those who got on her bad side. Evidently naming her "Mercy" was akin to calling a giant man "Tiny".
Luthor turned to Wembley. "Round up some 'extra' help for the ball. I want eyes and ears on Diana, Wayne, Kent and Lane at all times. Understand?"
"Yessir, milord, I'll be right on it." With that, the butler left, closing the door behind him.
"Mercy, go round up Hope and double check all the arrangements. This ball will go off without a hitch or I'll have your heads mounted on my wall." he said as he turned back to his budget figures.
She gulped—hard before managing "Right away, Lord Lex."
With a deep curtsey, Mercy quickly left the room.
