Previously:
Crockfords Casino, Mayfair, London, England, February 2015
William went back to looking at his computer monitors. He frowned as he looked at the slideshow of images for the tenth time. Something had triggered his memory earlier in the day but he was so busy dealing with other matters that he didn't have time to sit down and piece it all together until now. Of course, now that he finally had some time to himself, he forgot what he was looking for.
He sighed and went through the photographs again, consisting of the shots he took when he had accompanied Mr. Crawley and Mr. Lewis to that pub to observe Mr. Tom and the Albanians. He shuddered at the pictures. The Albanians were a fierce looking lot, he thought.
He paused over one photograph that he took when the group of them had just left the pub. It was the clearest shot he had of all of them, the lights of the pub helping display the features of each person rather clearly, despite it being later in the evening.
William frowned as he looked closely at each person. He knew Daniel Tom, of course, but he had no clue who any of the Albanians were. His eyes moved over a tall, thin man with brown hair. This man didn't look Albanian, though William couldn't necessarily describe what a typical Albanian looked like. He stared at the man for several moments, trying to figure out what was so peculiar about him.
William blinked and quickly looked at his second computer monitor. He moved his mouse over a series of photographs taken from Crockfords security footage. Matthew wanted him to maintain an archive of persons of interest, visitors to the casino who Matthew deemed to be individuals that they should keep information on. William knew that Matthew would want photos and video of Sir Richard Carlisle's visit from earlier this evening, so William had saved the footage and taken some freeze frame images as well. He enlarged one of these images on one monitor, and compared it to the photograph from the pub on the other.
"Fuck me," William muttered, glancing back and forth several times to make sure he had it right. The tall, thin man with brown hair who had met with Daniel Tom and the Albanians at the Grape & Grain Pub was Cyril Hightower.
Chapter 14:
London Suite, Shangri-La Hotel, At the Shard, London, England, February 2015
"Oh, sir! You're so good! So strong! Yes! Yes!"
"Mabel! Mabel!"
Mary blinked several times, wondering whether the video she was watching was actually real. The voices were loud, too loud, and perfectly clear. Besides that, Tony's face was displayed on the large television in all of its straining, grimacing and reddened glory.
Matthew watched Mary carefully, not really wanting to see the video yet again. Having to listen to it was bad enough. He wondered if Mary would be aghast, horrified, shocked by seeing her family friend in such a compromising position. He didn't care much for Lord Gillingham, but he didn't dislike him either. What the man chose to do with prostitutes was his business. Matthew was more concerned about why Patrick had this sordid film, and though it was quite difficult to watch, he had to let Mary know he found it so they could figure out their next step.
Mary covered her mouth with her hand as the grunts and groans of the couple on screen rose in pitch.
Matthew frowned. Perhaps he should turn off the video? There was no point in watching the entire thing, so long as Mary understood who was in it.
Mary snorted.
Matthew blinked in confusion.
"Did you say something?" he asked her.
"No," Mary shook her head quickly. "I was just…thinking."
"Yes, I imagine this must be quite difficult for you to watch," he nodded. "I can turn it off if it's too much for you to bear."
"No, no, it's not that," she shook her head, moving her hand away from her face.
"Oh, then what were you thinking, then?" he asked. "If it was what would possibly move Lord Gillingham to engage in such an...activity, well I can't say that I..."
"I was just thinking that I don't think the real Mabel is nearly that flexible," Mary grinned, then snorted again.
Matthew's eyes widened.
Mary lowered her hand to her stomach and burst out laughing. She closed her eyes and shook her head as she couldn't seem to stop.
"Mary!" he exclaimed.
She was almost crying from laughing so hard now.
"Mary, this isn't funny!" he said indignantly.
"You're right, you're right," Mary managed, taking a deep breath as she calmed herself.
"Oh, Mabel, that feels so good!" on-screen Tony sighed, then groaned loudly.
Mary arched her eyebrow at Matthew.
Matthew swallowed tightly, trying to maintain a serious expression.
"Yes, sir! Give it to me!" Mabel, being portrayed by Ethel Parks, wailed on the television screen.
Matthew smirked and looked down at the floor.
Mary fell back on the sofa and laughed heartily, covering her eyes as she practically shrieked at the ridiculousness of the scene they were watching.
Matthew shook his head and smiled at her, pursing his lips tightly as his chest shook. He finally gave up and chuckled. He tapped his phone screen and turned off the video playback on the television. Looking over at Mary, he met her bright eyes as they both eventually stopped laughing.
"I think that's the first time I've seen you smile all week," she said softly, running her hand through her hair and smoothing it behind her ear.
"Well, while I think it's rude to laugh at another man's performance in the bedroom, I suppose that I didn't expect Tony to be so…vocal," Matthew blushed.
Mary laughed and smiled at him.
"The serious question, though, is what should we do about it?" he asked.
"You think that Patrick showed this video to Tony and that gave Tony a motive to kill him?" she asked.
"It's just a theory, but Patrick does have a history with Mabel, and that's always been a sore spot for Tony. Maybe he only wanted to annoy Tony a bit, maybe he had some larger scheme that required he force him to do something, I don't know," Matthew shook his head. "But Patrick felt this video was important enough that he went to great effort to hide it."
"It's all just speculation at this point," Mary shrugged. She picked up her empty wine glass from the coffee table and got up from the sofa. "We need confirmation, one way or another."
"And how do we get that?" Matthew asked, watching as she went over to the dining table to refill her glass.
"By talking to Tony, of course," she smiled at him from across the room, sipping her wine.
"I thought about that," he frowned. "I highly doubt he would admit to anything."
"Perhaps not to you," she smiled, coming back to the sofa. "Leave him to me. Now, what else did you want to talk about?"
Matthew arched his eyebrows in response to her confidence, then turned his laptop towards her and brought up another browser window.
"This is what we have so far from the surveillance of Daniel Tom and the Albanians," he began.
Home of Alex Lewis, Imperial Wharf, London, England, February 2015
"Mmm," Anna smiled, closing her eyes and savouring the last bite of her key lime pie.
"Should I be jealous?" Alex laughed, getting up and clearing the dishes from the table. "You seem to be enjoying the dessert a bit too much."
"Oh, don't worry, babes," Anna smiled, looking over her shoulder at him as he placed the dishes in the sink and came back out of the kitchen. "You did make it for me, so really you can take some of the credit."
"Maybe," he shrugged, taking her hand and helping her to her feet. "Though I think I'd rather be the direct cause of your pleasure, rather than a mere baker."
"Well, the night isn't over yet," she teased, leading him to the living room.
Before they could reach the sofa, there was a frantic knocking at the door.
"Who could that be at this hour?" Anna frowned.
"I don't know," Alex said, looking in the direction of the foyer. "Stay here."
Alex made his way to the front door. Anna followed behind him.
He looked through the peep hole and blinked in surprise. Rolling his eyes at Anna, he stepped back and opened the door.
"William?" Anna exclaimed as the young man came inside. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Lewis, Miss Smith, but I made a bit of a discovery and I needed to tell someone and I didn't want to bother Mr. Crawley at his hotel, and I thought that it would be inappropriate to call or text him, and I didn't think it was proper to contact Lady Mary, not to mention I don't actually have her number, though I could have looked it up on the company directory, I suppose," William explained, speaking quickly.
"Calm down, William," Alex said, directing him into the living room and sitting him down in a chair. Anna came out of the kitchen with a glass of water.
"Here," she said, handing it to him. "Drink."
"Thank you," William nodded gratefully. He took a long drink and put the glass down on the coffee table. "I found something," he nodded. "When I was looking over the security footage from Crockfords and the photographs we took down the pub the other day."
"When you were following Daniel Tom and the Albanians?" Anna asked Alex.
Alex nodded. "What did you find out?" he asked William.
William opened his messenger bag and took out a pile of papers. He shuffled through them on the coffee table, then set out two large colour photographs side-by-side.
"This man, here," William said, pointing to a tall, thin man with brown hair walking out of the Grape & Grain Pub with the Albanians the previous Sunday.
"Yes, he left with one of the Albanians," Alex recalled. "We followed that other fellow."
"We did," William nodded. "But this man, here, I found out who he is."
"Who?" Anna frowned.
"Cyril Hightower," William said, pointing to a photograph of the same man playing poker in the High Limit Room at Crockfords with Mary and Sir Richard Carlisle.
"The man who came in with Sir Richard," Anna said.
"Should we tell Mr. Crawley and Lady Mary?" William asked.
Anna looked over at Alex.
"In the morning," Alex said. "No one knows that we've made the connection, so that gives us the advantage."
"Thank you, William," Anna said, patting the young man on the back. "But you should go home. That's enough excitement for one night, I think."
"Yeah, I feel better now that I've been able to tell someone," William nodded, getting up from his chair and collecting his papers.
They waited until a taxi arrived to take William back to his place, Alex insisting the man get a cab rather than take the Tube. Alex and Anna both bid him goodnight and watched him get into the taxi before closing and locking the door.
"What would Sir Richard be doing with the Albanians?" Anna asked as they turned off the lights and headed for the bedroom. "And why would he have them following Lady Edith and Lady Sybil, and us?"
"I haven't a clue," Alex said, putting his arm around her shoulders and steering her down the hall. "But I expect Matthew and Lady Mary will be very interested to hear all about it tomorrow."
London Suite, Shangri-La Hotel, At the Shard, London, England, February 2015
Mary made sure to beat Matthew to the bathroom tonight. She had come back to his hotel suite expecting a long heart-to-heart over their relationship – how they were feeling, what they were doing, where they were going – and in the car on the way over she had resolved that she would apologize again for everything – for treating him so horribly from when they were younger, for berating him when he was summoned by her Papa to London after Patrick's death, for the entire mess with Carlisle and for bringing a gun with her to his suite. She was even willing to take the blame for Manchester United losing to Swansea City for the second time this season at the weekend. She expected he would have conditions, things she would need to do to win back his trust so they could move on. Terms such as no more secrets between them, promises to be honest and forthright about everything, no matter the shame or hurt involved. As long as Matthew's demands weren't too unreasonable, she was prepared to do her penance. Perhaps he would even make her punishment a bit…fun.
Matthew had made small talk over dinner, a delicious room service meal that included a surprisingly excellent Malbec wine. Mary didn't mind that they kept the conversation light while they ate. Discussing affairs of the heart while eating was a dangerous thing, and she expected she would need energy to deal with the weight of all that remained unspoken between them.
Strangely though, after the meal was finished and they retired to the sofa in the living room, Matthew told her in a very formal tone that he had some findings from his various investigations to share with her. She hadn't expected that. She was even more taken aback by his disclosing the existence of Patrick's secret USB drive and the encrypted files. Nothing, of course, could prepare her for the video of Tony and the prostitute that he pretended was Mabel. She still felt the urge to laugh out loud at the mere thought of the poor man huffing and puffing away over the petite woman, who was obviously faking it. Well, maybe that part of the roleplay was more authentic to Mabel than anything else, Mary smirked.
Mary was glad to see the mood between them had lightened after they finished with the video. It was a small thing, smiling, joking, laughing together, something they did easily and without thinking for the past four months. Matthew surprised her again though when he proceeded to take her on a detailed presentation of Daniel Tom's movements and meetings. The tailing of Edith and Sybil seemed to have stopped recently, thank God, but they were no closer to finding out what the Albanians were doing in all this.
With that topic exhausted, Matthew made some cursory comments on the financials at the casinos under his control – Maxims and The Palm Beach – as well as his initial review of the appeal materials filed by Phil. Mary wondered whether she was on a dinner date with her boyfriend, or attending a board meeting.
It was past midnight when she confirmed that he was quite finished. She gave him yet another opening to talk about them, but he simply went on with checking his laptop for updates from his gambling websites. She got up and went straight into the bedroom and began getting ready for bed. She took over the bathroom when he came in later and went to his closet to change. As she busied herself with her nightly rituals, she became more and more perturbed. Patience was hardly one of her strong suits, and perhaps it was a bit unreasonable to expect a full-on discussion over their problems just days after she tried to kill herself in front of him, but she was becoming increasingly frustrated with him.
Yes, she had made a horrible mistake. Yes, things were tense between them. But Matthew was hardly innocent either, and his continuing passive aggressive stance wasn't helping anything. For someone who was so quick to face issues and problems in business head-on, Matthew was being stubbornly evasive when it came to their personal life. He could have saved all the talk of work for tomorrow. How long was he going to allow the lingering issues they had to drag on unaddressed?
So, tonight Mary made sure she was ready for bed first, and that she was seated against the pillows before he finished in the bathroom. He wasn't going to be able to tuck himself under the duvet and fall asleep on her this time. If she annoyed him or angered him by forcing him to deal with her on this, so be it. They were barely acting like a couple as it was.
"You know, when you mentioned we should come back here for dinner and a talk, I wasn't expecting a full-on multimedia presentation on the state of the company," she smiled as he came to bed.
"I wanted to make sure you knew everything that I did," Matthew replied plainly. "Tonight seemed as good a time as any, and besides, it's easier to do it here. Crockfords can be so distracting at night, with all the demands on your time."
Mary frowned slightly. "You don't like sharing me, do you?" she teased.
Matthew stopped organizing his pillows for a moment, not looking at her when he answered. "I know you have a job to do, and you do it very well, it's just that having your undivided attention is much harder when we're at the office, is all. At any given moment, some whale or VIP could walk through the door and monopolise your time."
Mary rolled her eyes as Matthew finished with his pillows and set about folding the top of the duvet across his waist.
"Well, I'm glad you were there to help me see Sir Richard off," she said pleasantly, choosing to put a name to Matthew's insinuation. "He orchestrated an entire scheme to get in to see me, you know. He had a flunky go into the High Limit Room first and start playing with a pile of chips. No doubt he knew that I would never go down to see him if he showed up himself at first, so he had this Mr. Hightower corral me downstairs before he moved in afterwards. It was ghastly."
"I'm not surprised," Matthew said with disinterest, sitting back against the pillows and glancing at his mobile. "Carlisle probably has a scheme for every possible occasion."
"It was an admittedly small victory, but a victory nonetheless to see him slither away," she said, undeterred. "I also managed to win a fair amount of money off of him."
"Mmm hmm," he replied, swiping his finger across his phone screen.
"Matthew, could you please not bring your mobile to bed?" she asked. "We should have one place that is at least free of distractions."
"Did you not tell me when I first arrived months ago that we handle business at all hours?" he asked, looking at his phone screen. "Games are just starting in North America and I need to track the bets."
"Then you have a few hours yet before you'll be able to find out the results," she retorted. "Put the phone away, Matthew."
Matthew furrowed his brow for a moment, then set his phone on the nightstand before turning back to her.
"I think we should have a proper talk," she said.
Matthew looked down at the duvet. "What do you hope to accomplish by this 'talk'?"
"If you're thinking that I'm looking for forgiveness or a promise that you won't bring up what I did again every time we argue, I'm not," she said, causing him to look up at her curiously. "However I'm quite certain that we need to at least talk about what's happened between us, rather than avoiding it and thinking at some point in the future everything will magically resolve itself."
Matthew hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "All right," he said. "But I warn you, if you mean to preach or make excuses…"
"I have no intention of doing either," she huffed. "I just want to talk. We've never had any problem saying what's on our minds about anything else, have we, Matthew? Why should this be any different?"
"Fine," he nodded. "We can talk."
Mary sat against the pillows, leaning on her elbow and turning on her side to look at him.
"What do you see when you look at me?" she asked.
"What?" he frowned.
"When you look at me," she repeated. "What do you see? What do you feel?"
"I…" he stammered. "I see you. I see Mary."
"The Mary that you've always known?" she asked. "Or someone else?"
Matthew took a deep breath, struggling to answer. "Well, you're not the same Mary that I knew. I've learned more about you these past four months than I knew all the years before. Obviously seeing you each and every day is different than visiting you twice a year growing up."
"Yes," she nodded. "And now that you know me better, is your opinion of me as high as it was before, or worse?"
"Higher," he said quietly. "Before I had never seen you at work, seen you perform and juggle your responsibilities and manage your division and so on. Now I know how capable you are."
"Yes, and?" she encouraged him.
"And…I've seen how much you love your family and your sisters, even Edith," he said. "How you try and maintain this cold façade, but deep down you do have a heart and you are nice, and you would do anything for the ones you…"
"The ones I…" she said slowly.
"The ones you love," he said, looking at her.
Mary returned his gaze, remaining silent for several seconds.
"And what I did," she said finally, glancing down, then back up at him. "It disappointed you."
"You were young," he replied. "You thought you were making a sound investment decision. It was a mistake, but in some ways, an understandable one."
Mary nodded. "And the matter with Carlisle?"
Matthew swallowed. "Yes," he nodded. "I was disappointed in you for that, yes."
"And that's changed how you feel about me," she stated.
He paused briefly. "Yes," he said.
"Irrevocably?" she asked.
He met her stare. "No," he said quietly. "Not irrevocably."
"Do you know what I see when I look at you, Matthew?" she asked.
He shook his head.
"I see a man," she began. "Who is smart, and funny; a man who is direct and decisive, who works hard and demands a lot of himself and those around him."
Matthew pursed his lips and swallowed.
"I see a man who is very handsome," she smiled. "But acts like he doesn't know it, which makes him insufferably even more attractive as a result."
Matthew chuckled for a second, then went quiet once more.
"And I see a man who is willing to sacrifice for those he loves," she said pointedly. "Who puts those he cares about before himself, almost to a fault."
"Mary…" he mumbled.
"I see a wonderful, beautiful, brilliant man," she continued. "But a man who just needs to get out of his own way sometimes."
Matthew frowned.
"When I came to you that first night, Matthew," she said, looking down at her hands. "It's true that I had already met with Sir Richard and he already told me what the price would be for him to protect my secret. But I didn't go to you because of that. I know it may seem as though I did, but I came here that night for my own selfish reasons. I wanted to take advantage of you, of your feelings for me. I intended to use you and leave you, so you would see that you could never have me unless I took pity on you. I wanted to put you in your place, so that you would know who held the power between us, and so that would cement my position within the company."
Matthew clenched his teeth and looked away.
"But that night, I felt something for you," she said earnestly. "It wasn't just the sex, though that was quite amazing. It was the way you ran your fingers through my hair, the way you held me, the way you looked at me. You were so…gentle, and considerate, and kind. By the next morning, I didn't want to leave. And I didn't think about Sir Richard's scheme, or mine, at all. Not for one moment."
Matthew blinked.
"These last four months have been the best four months of my life," she nodded. "Even with all the hassles and stress at work, and losing the Abu Dhabi investment, we've made real progress in the business, and I've had your support the entire way."
Matthew sighed.
"You've known about Sir Richard's hold on me for months, and I suppose you still wonder why I didn't trust you enough to come to you for help. We both know I'm not very good at that sort of thing – asking for aid. But it wasn't just that. You see, I didn't see a way out of my dilemma, and the only thing I could think to do was to keep putting him off and putting him off and enjoy the time I had with you. I thought that by telling you, I would surely lose what I valued most – your kindness, your consideration, your love. It was selfish of me, I admit, but I just couldn't do it. I couldn't sully what was one of the most beautiful things I knew."
Matthew looked up at her cautiously.
"I'm not telling you all of this because I expect you to forget about what happened, or even to understand what I was going through. I'm telling you this because I love you. I've loved you for much longer than I knew. You may hate me for what I did, and maybe we'll end up apart in the end, but I didn't spend these last four months with you because of Sir Richard, or my scandal, or because of some bloody scheme. I spent these last four months with you because of you, Matthew. All because of you."
Matthew closed his eyes hard, grimacing slightly before he looked at Mary again.
"I know you're disappointed in me, and I don't know if you'll ever get past that. But if you think that I was…being charitable, or that I meant to mislead you, you're wrong. I love you, and if we never get back to where we were before, I'll still look on the four months we had together as absolutely precious, and nothing will change that."
"I wish I could believe you," he said quietly. "So terribly much."
Mary's voice caught in her throat. She swallowed and tried again. "But?"
"But I'm not sure," he shook his head. "Of you, or of anything else, it seems. The last few weeks have taught me that."
Mary felt her stomach lurch.
"What are you saying?" she asked in fear.
Matthew inhaled deeply. "I'm saying I don't know what…this…is. This thing between us. I don't know what to call it. I don't know what it means. Everything that I thought I knew, both good and bad, has been completely thrown on its head."
Mary frowned, but remained quiet waiting for him to continue.
"When we were younger, I was very attracted to you," he explained. "You were the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen, and despite your treatment of me, I was absolutely enthralled. Everything that you did seemed larger than life to me, and I was lost from that point on."
Mary blushed and smiled, despite the wariness she still felt.
"I never believed that anything would develop between us," he admitted. "It wasn't just that we didn't really get along. It was that I didn't know what I had to offer you that you couldn't find in someone else, in someone more your type, someone better."
Mary looked down sadly.
He went on. "When you came to me, that first night, I suspected that you had an agenda, but then again, so did I, so I wasn't bothered by it. No one really enters into a relationship with full disclosure and on equal terms, so that didn't matter to me. I was glad enough to be with you, and the manner in which it came about wasn't important."
Mary looked back at him with interest.
"It perplexed me, how I could possibly love you enough to endure over these past four months, when I knew all that I knew," he said. "I told myself numerous things to get by, to keep going. I thought I was just living out a teenage fantasy that I had of you as my girlfriend, or I was just doing whatever I needed to do in order to carry out Violet's instructions, or I kept you close because I loved having sex with you and I was just giving in to my primal needs. I came up with any and all justifications and excuses that I could to buy enough time to gather the evidence that Carlisle had against you."
"Because to admit that you did it all out of love made you feel weak," she said.
"No," he shook his head. "To admit that I did it all just because I love you made me feel terrified. It still does."
Mary nodded.
"I just…" he muttered. "When I came back to Crockfords tonight and saw you standing there with Carlisle, I didn't immediately even think about what happened last weekend, or your secret, or his blackmailing you, or any of that. The first thing I thought of, was that, for whatever reason, you took his side. You chose him, over me, and I know that sounds ridiculous because you were in an impossible situation and you thought you didn't have a choice, but I just…I couldn't help but feel that…"
"That I thought you weren't enough for me," she finished for him. "That I'll always think you aren't enough for me."
Matthew swallowed audibly and looked down. After a while, he nodded imperceptibly and spoke in a hushed voice.
"I know it's unfair, and taking things out of context, and making assumptions and all of that," he shook his head. "But you're surrounded, all the time, by these exceptional men. They ask for you at the casino. They look at you when you do your inspections. They probably talk about you, lust after you behind your back, and I know they see in you exactly what I see – a beautiful, intelligent, desirable woman – and all I am, all I have to offer, is just…"
"You're the man I chose, Matthew," she said, reaching out and taking his shaking hand.
He stared at their joined fingers with wide eyes.
"You're the man I've decided to be with," she said, drawing his hand towards her, keeping her eyes on his face as he watched her movements. "Not because of any conditions. Not to pay you back for what you've done for me. Not out of guilt. Not out of duty."
He kept looking at his hand in hers.
"You're the only man who gets to touch me," she whispered, leaning forward and kissing the back of his hand before stroking it across her cheek.
He blinked as she moved his hand down to her chest.
"You're the only man who gets to have me," she said, pressing his fingers against her silk camisole, his hand covering her heart.
"I tried to take my own life, rather than betray you," she said as he finally lifted his eyes to meet hers. "I can tell you about how I love you, and point out all the times over the past four months where we've been happy together, but I can't make you believe any of it, or even tell you that we won't have hard times again in the future."
He nodded, his lips parted.
Mary smiled at him. "But I can show you," she said. "I can show you how much you mean to me, how much I love you, how I want you more than anyone else in the world. And we can try and have a good day together, and another, and another after that, until a day comes where I trust you enough to know you won't let what happened in the past affect our future, and you trust me enough to stop looking over your shoulder to see if someone will come along and steal me away from you."
Matthew leaned forward and Mary did the same. Their foreheads touched, both of their hands coming together between them.
"This won't be easy, you know," he said.
"Anything involving the two of us rarely is, is it, my darling?" she smiled.
"I've missed you," he admitted, swallowing again.
"Likewise," she said.
Mary tilted her head and kissed him softly. A warm thrill went up her spine as his lips pressed back against hers, his mouth opening to deepen their kiss. His arms came around her, pulling her closer, her own hands roaming across his chest and around to his back.
"Mary," he smiled against her lips, easing back slightly after several more pecks.
"Darling," she grinned back.
She laid down and turned away from him, getting comfortable under the duvet. She smiled as Matthew laid down behind her, his arm coming around and hugging her back against him. She covered his hand with hers and closed her eyes.
"Good night," he said, kissing her shoulder, then settling in to sleep.
"Good night. Love you," she smiled, relaxing in his arms.
Crockfords Casino, Mayfair, London, England, February 2015
"Unbelievable," Mary said, looking at the photographs of Cyril Hightower with the Albanians and gambling at Crockfords from the previous day.
"At least it answers the question as to who put them up to following Edith, Sybil and Anna and Alex," Matthew said grimly, sitting in the chair on the other side of her desk.
"But why would he do this?" she asked. "To put our family under surveillance is a huge risk. If Papa knew…"
"I would rather not involve your father, and his temper, for now. He'll demand a meeting with Carlisle, or with one of the Albanian leaders, or both. Nothing good can come from that," he said.
Anna and Alex looked at each other.
"I agree," Mary said. "For now, Sir Richard doesn't know that we've discovered this. Let's not play this card until we truly want to."
"We can put a tail on Hightower," Alex suggested. "See whether he's meeting up with the Albanians without Mr. Tom there."
"Not a bad idea," Matthew nodded. "So long as we know our people will be discreet."
"Anna, work with Gwen on that," Mary ordered. "Just general surveillance for now. We're not looking to get close to him, just monitor where he goes."
"Got it," Anna nodded, making notes on her tablet.
"It could be that Sir Richard retained the Albanians as a contingency plan," Mary said to Matthew. "Keeping track of everyone's whereabouts and schedule could have been to gather enough information to make a move, if necessary."
"A contingency plan for what?" Alex asked.
"For whatever he's planning," Matthew answered quickly. "We don't think that his visit here yesterday was a coincidence."
Alex nodded, looking at Matthew curiously.
"So we'll continue the surveillance, then," Mary said. "Security has already been increased for Edith and Sybil, so hopefully that's enough. The longer that the Albanians just follow us around, the more time we have to figure all of this out."
"I'll go and talk to Gwen," Anna nodded.
She and Alex left Mary's office.
"Thank you for that," Mary said. "I forgot that you haven't told Alex."
"Have you told Anna?" he asked, rising from his chair.
"No, she doesn't know about any of it," Mary shook her head. "She wasn't working for us when I made the investment."
"Well there's no reason to tell anyone," he nodded. "When do you plan on meeting with Tony?"
"Later tonight," she answered. "I've mentioned to him that I want to have a drink after he's done playing, and I expect that will cause him to show up without Mr. Blake this time."
"Good," he nodded. "I still don't know what to make of our Mr. Blake. I hope he's just developed a new interest in poker and that's it."
"If only we were that lucky," Mary rolled her eyes. "I'll let you know when Tony arrives."
"Oh, there's no need for that," he said, turning for the door.
"Do you not wish to say hello and keep watch on him from afar?" she asked.
"No," he shrugged as he reached her doorway. He turned his head and smiled at her knowingly. "I trust you to handle him on your own."
Mary smiled and nodded as he left to go back to his own office.
Penthouse of Patrick Crawley, Soho, London, England, February 2015
"Got it," the man said, jiggling the door handle a few times before he opened the door and stepped aside for the other to go in ahead of him.
"We have twenty minutes before the power comes back on, starting now," he snarled as they fanned out into the different rooms. "Don't touch anything without wiping it clean when you're done. Anything electronic that you find – mobile, laptop, flash drive, whatever – give it to Bridget to strip down. Everything goes back where you found it. If you're undecided about something, find me or Jim. Let's go."
He wandered the spacious apartment as his team went to work. Paintings were taken off the walls and examined before being put back in place. Books were grabbed off the shelves and rifled through, then returned to their original position. They looked behind all the kitchen appliances, out on the terrace and underneath all the sofa and chair cushions. The entire place was gone over in a methodical and organized manner.
He called out the time remaining in five-minute intervals. As each room was finished, he would send those crew members out the door and back downstairs to the van. The hydro company would have electricity back on shortly, and he did not want to be still here when the cameras came back on and the security guards wandered up for their regular hall inspection.
"Doesn't look like there's anything on his computer," Bridget called, frowning at the screen of a laptop plugged into her tablet. "I've copied his hard drive, so we can look at it later."
"Five minutes!" he called out, heading back down the hall from the bedroom. He dismissed the rest of the crew, going from room-to-room and shutting down the search as he went. Bridget was out the door when he took one last glance around before leaving and locking the door behind him.
The lights flickered as they went down the stairs. He followed Bridget out the side door and quickly got in on the passenger side of the large van parked at the kerb.
"Report back to the client that we're done," he ordered as the van moved down the street. "We'll let him know if we found what he's looking for once we go over the data from the hard drive."
Crockfords Casino, Mayfair, London, England, February 2015
"Mary," Tony smiled, kissing her on both cheeks.
"Tony," she nodded, taking a seat at the booth table. "How was your luck tonight?"
"Well, the night is still young, but it's going well so far, as I see it," he grinned, taking a seat opposite her.
"I suppose you're wondering why I interrupted your game?" she asked after the server took their drinks order.
"Not at all. I needed a break anyway. Besides, I always have time for you, Mary, you know that," he smiled.
"Yes, and I'm sure that must not go over very well with Mabel. She and I aren't exactly on friendly terms," she replied.
Tony laughed and took a long drink of his brandy.
"No, I suppose you aren't," he shook his head. "But that's all right. I don't think the two of you are meant to be friends. You're not her, and she's not you."
Mary arched her eyebrow at his comment, sipping her vodka and tonic as she prepared herself for the duel to come.
"I was pleased to see that Charles Blake has not accompanied you this evening," she said casually.
"I didn't want to leave him alone while I spent time with you," he explained. "He's just learning the games still, and a bit of a new boy when it comes to playing for higher stakes. It might get expensive if I were to let him play on his own"
"Ah," she smiled. "You've been spending a fair amount of time with your old Navy comrade. He doesn't seem to have left your side each time you've visited us for the past month or longer."
"He's been around a few times, yes," Tony said. "Is there something wrong with that?"
"Why don't you tell me? It seems that you may have brought the enemy into our midst, given his occupation," she said lightly.
Tony frowned. "He's not a threat, Mary."
"How can you know for certain?" she asked in annoyance. "His job is investigating families and businesses like ours, Tony. Do you expect me to believe that his showing up here is mere coincidence?"
"You had him checked out," Tony nodded grimly.
"You know how I run this company," she said haughtily. "I don't allow anyone into the private room without knowing exactly what they are all about."
"Oh, but you'll personally host Sir Richard Carlisle here quite happily, won't you?" he replied bitterly.
Mary frowned for a moment before composing herself. "He wasn't invited, if you must know. He's our competition. He's quite aware that he isn't welcome here."
Tony frowned and took another drink.
"What's going on, Tony?" Mary asked with concern. "Why are you spending so much time with Charles Blake, and bringing him here, of all places?"
"Mary, I assure you, it's nothing that you need worry about," he scoffed. "Charles Blake is a friend. It goes no further than that."
"And is your friend aware of what you do for a living and what side of the law you usually find yourself on?" she frowned.
"No, he isn't," he said firmly. "And he has no suspicions about your family either. He just likes gambling from time to time, that's all, and I'm allowing him to tag along with me. I enjoy his company. We've been through a lot together."
Mary shook her head, looking at him suspiciously. "Tony, I truly hope you know what you're doing. Spending time with a member of an MI:5 special task force on organized crime is dangerous, not to mention foolish. I don't want to have to take this to Papa. He would not hesitate to order me to suspend your privileges should you continue to associate with Charles Blake, you know."
Tony's mouth opened in shock. "Lord Grantham is well aware of the bond between our families, as well as my faithful service to yours. I can't believe he would react so drastically to this."
"Papa values the alliance between our Houses, Tony," Mary nodded. "But you know how families like ours work. We follow the code to the letter. And you know that Patrick was never your biggest supporter. Who knows what he said to Papa about you?"
"Patrick!" he spat, rolling his eyes. "If Lord Grantham only knew about how ardently he followed our code!"
"What do you mean?" she frowned. "Patrick had his vices, we all knew that. He was always loyal to our family, though."
"Was he?" he sneered.
"Are you saying you know otherwise?" she demanded.
"I don't want to speak ill of the departed," he growled.
"Come off it, Tony," she shook her head. "I know things were always tense between the two of you because of Mabel, but that was ages ago, honestly."
"This doesn't have anything to do with Mabel," he grunted. "Mabel regrets her time with him, I assure you, but it doesn't matter. It happened before we were together, so despite Patrick reminding me of it constantly, I wasn't bothered by that."
"Then what?" she asked.
"Patrick never respected our code or our rules," he frowned. "All he cared about was himself. He had everything. He was Lord Grantham's favourite and got to work alongside you every day and he took it all for granted. He never showed the proper amount of respect, for our families, for the business, for the code. It was all just a game to him, and so long as he profited in the end, that's all he ever cared about."
Mary watched him closely.
"There were so many times where he would come to me as though he wanted to let bygones be bygones, to put our past behind us and move on properly. He always had some business deal or proposal for me to consider, always talked about how we could do something grand together," he continued.
"And?" she asked.
"And it never amounted to anything!" he said, waving his hand in the air. "He would pretend to want to be my friend one minute and would turn against me the next. Eventually, after all the failed plans, I realized that he was just using me, using my name, using my money, playing with me like he always did."
Mary watched as Tony finished his drink, then rose from his chair.
"Thank you for the drink, Mary," he said curtly. "I should get back to it. I'll see you tomorrow night, yes?"
Mary stood up and accepted his kiss to her cheek. She stared as Tony buttoned his suit jacket and left the bar, heading back to the High Limit Room with a brisk gait.