The Duke of Argyll studied the ornamental lamp, mesmerised by the intricate emerald inscriptions cool beneath his touch. In his hands, he held the key to untold power. And, oh boy, was it intoxicating.
Everything had succeeded as planned; with Mr Daim finally bound to his will, nothing stood in his way. But this was just the beginning. The path ahead would change the world, leading the British Empire to greater heights than the world had ever seen, leaving no corner untouched by Her Majesty’s grace. All he had to do now was wait for all the pieces to fall into place.
A knock at the door told the Duke it was time he put his new toy away, closing it behind the glass casements of his display cabinet.
“Come in!”
The Duke didn’t have any meetings planned for the day, so he was surprised to find the man who entered his office was none other than Captain Robertson.
“Captain!” beamed the Duke, “I thought you’d be halfway up to Scotland by now. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Truly, it is my pleasure, Mr Secretary. I was hoping to speak with you in private before I left. You know… without the insufferable Henderson,” smirked Captain Robertson.
That last remark made the Duke laugh. Commissioner Henderson was indeed insufferable. Just because he played his part didn’t mean the Duke had to like him. Captain Robertson, on the other hand, was a man who was both useful and likeable. He would go far in his career.
“Of course, of course. Please, take a seat,” insisted the Duke as he walked over to his desk drawer, pulling out two glasses and a bottle of scotch, “would you like a drink?”
“I really shouldn’t, Mr Secretary, I—”
“Nonsense! You’re off duty. Relax,” reasoned the Duke, pouring both glasses, “pretend we’re two friends having a good old chat.”
Captain Robertson awkwardly smiled before grabbing one of the glasses and raising it in thanks. The Duke raised his glass in response, clinking it against Captain Robertson’s before taking a generous swig.
“Ahhhh. That hits the spot. So, tell me, what is it you wish to discuss?”
“Henderson.”
“Henderson? What of him? I know he’s a nuisance, and believe me, I despise him as much as the next man, but I can’t be slandering him when he’s not here. After all, how will he hear me insult him?” jested the Duke.
“Mr Secretary, I have reason to believe Commissioner Henderson has betrayed us,” divulged Captain Robertson, seriousness etched into his voice.
“You can’t be serious! That man hasn’t the guile nor courage to do such a thing.”
The Duke was shocked into disbelief.
“What makes you say this?”
“He lied to us. Yesterday. When he claimed to have succeeded in dispatching Spring-Heeled Jack.”
“And how do you know this?”
“Because Spring-Heeled Jack visited me last night.”
To be continued…
This is part of a larger series called Midnights in London