Daniel Friedman - Riot Most Uncouth

“His preparations seem quite extensive for just one man’s midday repast.” Burke’s hope was a hard weed to kill.

“I take lunch with my associate,” I said, gesturing toward the bear, who sat down heavily upon his rear haunches and asserted himself by making a noise; a sort of rumbling honk. In doing so, he opened his mouth, giving Burke full view of his teeth, which were rather impressive. The Professor, in addition to his prestigious academic credentials, was outfitted with two pairs of enormous fangs; four teeth, each as long as a man’s finger and thicker around the base than a candlestick. One could easily imagine such implements, driven by the mighty engine of the beast’s well-muscled jaw, punching through flesh and crushing bone. This was, in fact, their purpose; when bears find they have occasion for intra-species negotiation over females or territory, they employ their teeth in much the same manner as men use lawyers.

“He’s tame, is he?” Burke asked. His hands fluttered about his face as he spoke. The crisp, high-collared shirt he wore accentuated the unusual length of his neck. His nose, his chin, and his limbs were also quite long, giving him a fragile, birdlike appearance, though he was a fairly large brute. He had the kind of limp yellow hair that grows only from the scalps of men possessing little character or fortitude. I wanted to shoot him in the throat.

“He’s hungry,” I said, letting some slack into the bear’s leash and making sure Burke saw me do it. “I would suggest you handle your business here with all possible haste.”

The Professor growled again and shook his massive head.

“I certainly shall, Lord Byron.” Burke shifted on his feet and fingered his cravat. “As you probably remember, you met Armand Lafitte at a social event over the summer. M. Lafitte is a senior banker for my client, and I am to understand he was quite impressed by you.”

I had already guessed that Mr. Burke’s visit was related to the recent fraud I’d committed against his client. M. Lafitte was a sodding drunk and a bloody imbecile. I’d talked him into giving me a loan in furtherance of some fabricated commercial endeavor, secured against a property that I failed to tell him was already thrice mortgaged. I’d like to say this fleecing was influenced by patriotic concerns, but the truth was, I enjoyed the French people and French cuisine, and I admired Napoleon. I just wanted the money.

As soon as the bank disbursed the cash, I ordered six cases of wine and three whores up to my hotel suite. I did not leave for several days, nor did I sleep during that period of sustained debauchery. Mr. Burke was calling on me because the bank had finally discovered my misconduct. They were quicker than I expected; I had not yet wasted all their money.

“It seems there was some error in the paperwork,” Burke said. “Our interest does not appear to be properly collateralized. While we certainly don’t mean to impugn your honor or suggest a lack of trust and good faith, it is nonetheless a very rigid policy of the bank not to expose itself to the risks associated with unsecured credit, even where the borrower is as esteemed and distinguished as yourself.”

“I’m afraid you made the trip up from London unnecessarily,” I said. “My counsel, Mr. John Hanson, has offices there, and it is with him that you should discuss this.”

Hanson was under strict instructions to summon his most potent lawyerly tools of obfuscation and misdirection to foil the efforts of creditors to collect from me. On that condition, his bills alone would be paid on time.

“I did contact Mr. Hanson, and he strongly encouraged me to speak directly with you regarding this matter.”

Hanson! Whoreson! I’d been betrayed by that backstabbing brigand! The two of us had an arrangement; I tolerated his harangues and missives about behaving responsibly, and he cleaned up my messes when I disregarded his advice. It was a perfectly serviceable system, and he had spoilt it. No doubt he was having a good chuckle at my expense.

“I do not wish to be impolite,” Burke continued. “But your agreement contains a guarantee on your part that the bank’s interest is secured, and our remedy in the event that we learn otherwise is to accelerate repayment of the loan and attempt to recover our capital.”

“Is that a threat?”

“I was merely discussing the business options open to the bank under the terms of the agreement. M. Lafitte hopes that any defect in the collateralization of the loan can be corrected without adversarial dealings and that you might continue to have a genial and mutually beneficial relationship with the bank.”

I stared at him as hard as I could, trying to use the sheer force of my will to make him burst into flame. “So, it’s just a threat wrapped up in lots of weasely nonsense?”

Burke broke away from my gaze and shifted on his feet again. I noticed he had very fine shoes, and I wondered if I could convince him to give me the name of his cobbler so I could direct some of Banque Credit Francaise’s money in that noble craftsman’s direction. “The bank will, of course, offer any assistance you require in assessing your holdings to identify appropriate collateral to secure the loan.”

I was not fooled by his petty and devious attempts at helpfulness.

“Do you know what has just happened here in Cambridge?” I asked.

“I only just arrived last night,” said Burke.

“A young lady has been murdered, Mr. Burke. She was a charming and lively girl; a beloved friend to all who encountered her. The killing was senseless and unprovoked and the perpetrator remains at large. Your attempts to raise the mundane, petty subject of business are crass and inappropriate beyond belief on this black and tragic day. What sort of gentleman comes calling with these trivialities upon a house of mourning?”

“I’d hardly call these matters trivial, Lord Byron, although I am deeply sorry for your loss. But I assure you, I would not trouble you if this matter were not urgent.”

“What is urgent is burying my dear friend Felicity,” I said. “What is urgent is finding her killer and rendering him unto justice. What is urgent is comforting her family; I can tell you, they are quite devastated. Anyone would be in such circumstances. Forms and paperwork are not urgent, however, and the great magnitude of my recent bereavement makes your business here seem entirely trifling.”

“I’m sure we can dispose of this matter quickly, then, so I may leave you in peace.”

“If you and the bank have conducted your proper diligence, or if Mr. Hanson was kind enough to warn you before you came to visit, you know I am never unarmed,” I said. “I wear my pistols every day and sleep with them under my pillow at night. They are as necessary a component of dress to me as my trousers.”

I removed my waistcoat so he could see the weapons strapped to my torso. He started to say something, but I cut him off. “I also keep a stiletto tucked into my boot. So you have made a decision to come into my home on a day of sadness to threaten me. Your weapon is the possibility of accelerating my obligation to repay a bank loan. Arrayed against you, I have two guns, one very sharp dagger, and a hungry bear. I am overwrought, Mr. Burke. I am a broken soul, do you understand?”

“I don’t see how this pertains-”

“I am unreasonable, sir. My faculties of reason have abandoned me. I am awash, right now, with emotions. I am like a toy ship, thrown about by crashing tides of grief and rage and unfettered anguish. In such circumstances, I cannot be held responsible for my actions. Also, I am heavily armed. Do you understand now?”

“I think I do,” said Burke. “And when you put it that way, I believe I shall be going, though I wish our business could have been handled more amicably, and I am sorry.”