Gregory House - The Queen's Oranges

Despite the golden glow on the table, the Hanse’s bland business mask soon slipped back into place. “That, Ned is an honour. Ahh, how can I assist your meister in this?”

Ned conferred upon Albrecht his most practiced smile. “I have heard that there are many stages of the process that could be open to…to influence. Is that correct?”

Concern creased Albrecht’s brow just for an instant before he answered cautiously. “Ahh-mm, Ned that could be so in some of the smaller ports like Lyme Regis or Plymouth, but here in the city, well, tis not so simple.”

What a very interesting evasion. Ned held himself back. Master Albrecht had a few more paces to go yet.

“At the Inns of Court Albrecht, an apprentice hears of all manner of practices, such as useful gifts to men of influence and standing who, ‘ahem’, may be prevailed upon to assist a ‘friend’ acquire a vessel or cargo that is up to auction for a fraction of its true value.”

There was the hook laid out and baited with a golden lure, by a lad who apparently had been chosen by the cleverest man in England as his proxy. It had to be so tempting, a joint venture with Councillor Cromwell. Albrecht Hagen, the Hanse merchant of the Steelyard, considered the prospects and they glittered. A patron on the Privy Council was of inestimable value and gave a merchant undreamed of advantages. There was one snag. The price for patronage, as stated before, was the removal of an inconvenient Meg Black, but since the lad had so kindly offered… Ned’s daemon knew well the rest of the reasoning. He’d harped on it for ages.

“Since Albrecht, you’re obviously a man of some considerable experience and standing in the city, my lord believes that, as a friend, you could be prevailed upon to exercise your knowledge for a prospective partner?”

The light of cautious greed was definitely sparkling in the merchant’s eyes. Good, very good and another step further on. Ned had been very busy last night, tapping a few friends of his uncle for information about the reality behind impounding. It had proven quite revealing. For instance there was a certain coterie of merchants known to pull cony-catching tricks with innocent new investors, fleecing them of both the vessel and the cargo. Intriguingly Albrecht’s name had on occasion cropped up in association with this. It would be interesting to see how far along that path the conversation progressed.

“For say, a gift of ten percent of the true value, would you act as agent to secure this vessel and cargo?” That was it, the lure was tumbling in the water before the very curious fish.

Ned always had thought greed was the greatest temptation. With a great strain he kept the pleasant smile on his face, and like a practiced devil, moved on to the next level of damnation. Albrecht Hagan, the veteran of many fierce trade deals and partnerships paused, heavy brows drawn down and drummed his fingers idly on the table in a slow rhythm. To a witness it may have seemed he was struggling with his conscience. To Ned that battle had been fought and lost-the Hanse’s eyes never left the open box of gold. Then the Hanse gave his broadest smile ever and inclined his head. “I would be honoured to serve Councillor Cromwell in whatever capacity he so requires.”

Ned slapped the table with an open hand and then gave the merchant a friendly buffet, as if to a boon companion. “Excellent! A man of distinction can go far in Cromwell’s service. As a sign of his trust and as a bond, I’ve been instructed to give you the chest. Master Sadleyer, my lord’s secretary will draw up the contract this afternoon.”

The payment for treachery was so cheap, only four hundred angels. Albrecht stood up, took Ned’s proffered hand and shook it vigorously all the time grinning like a cat who had stumbled over a gallon of cream. Why shouldn’t he? In a few minutes Albrecht had shed the many problems of Meg Black, gained a new partner and patron, as well as being handsomely paid.

“I believe the basis of any sound business relationship is trust, wouldn’t you agree Albrecht?” The Hanse merchant put on his most patently honest face and nodded, but his gaze, still locked on the gold, lied.

Ned pointed out a select pile of paper left over from Meg Black’s sorting. “I’ve looked through the bills of lading here and found a few omissions. If you would be so kind as to verify them?”

There was the slightest hesitation, but the coins glinted so invitingly. As the learned said, greed was a perilous trap for a man’s soul. Albrecht gave in and his own daemon took the reins sure in its certainty of untold advantages.

“The smuggled texts, I’ve been told, are valued at one hundred and fifty pounds?”

Albrecht gave a short nod of agreement, cautious at revealing anything, though Ned could see a slight glint of speculation.

“I think for now we’ll write those off the list. They’ll disappear by morning-my master would prefer fewer distractions.”

Albrecht looked almost satisfied. Good. Ned wanted him to believe that, as the proxy of his master, Ned was ready to turn the blind eye and ignore inconvenient problems.

“Secondly, for the other contraband that was discovered by my men, I believe it to be say two thousand pounds value. Yes?” Ned turned towards a stack of objects next to the trestle table shrouded by a canvas sheet and pulled the cover spilling it on to the floor. The displayed result was a barrel of powder surrounded by a selection of the weaponry and topped by the pistol case. Ned picked up the case and put it on the table.

Albrecht’s face sagged and he tugged his beard in agitation, as if some thief had stolen his purse. Well Ned had, but only if he stepped into the second trap. “Meister Bedwell…ahh Ned…if I may be so bold, I must beg exception for this. I vill plead your master’s indulgence. This cargo is my own consignment!” That came out so grudgingly and he almost quivered with concern.

Ned feigned a look of shock and surprise at the revelation. “By Gods grace, is that so Albrecht? Well I suppose a waiver is possible.”

Ned paused as if considering a solution then smiled. “Can you can prove ownership?”

The Hanse gave a rueful smile and reluctantly gave a jerky single nod before dropping to his knees next to the deceased shipmaster’s bed. Albrecht then tapped a panel at its base, and the timber swung out to reveal a small compartment. The Hanse merchant got back up and handed Ned a new set of lading lists. At a quick review it certainly had all the discovered components, though he did notice that the number of barrels of powder on the list differed markedly to those in the hidey hole. Perhaps his surmise regarding the reason for Joachim’s death had been correct.

Albrecht continued to dissemble like a lawyer. Most people when caught like this would have howled like child with its hand caught in the comfit jar. Though to Ned’s practiced eye it didn’t take much to read the merchant’s thoughts. Profits were about to take a drastic dive. Only the consolation of patronage and gold kept him hopeful.

“It all seems in order Albrecht. I thank you for your honesty and I believe I can arrange an accommodation over that error.” Ned handed back the list. It was very informative-the value of the contraband far exceeded the honest cargo.

Albrecht, however, gave a tight wary smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Then Ned bent over and inking the quill visibly, scratched out the list of armaments contraband.

Albrecht looked puzzled at the action, then Ned signed the bill of lading and passed it across to the merchant. “See all solved. I’ve heard it’s the common fee of five percent on the profit of ‘merchandise’, so to be fair, my master will take it from the next shipment.”