A Dangerous Fortune - Ken Follett [77]
“You won’t see him again for a long time. He’s been sent to Boston.”
Well done, Augusta, thought Micky. It would be neat if both Hugh and Tonio could be dealt with on the same day. He said: “You look as if you might benefit from a bottle of champagne and some lunch.”
“Splendid idea.”
They left the bank and headed west. There was no point in getting into a hansom here because the streets were blocked by the sheep and the cabs were all held up in the traffic. They passed the meat market which was the destination of the sheep. The stench from the slaughterhouses was unbearably disgusting. The sheep were thrown from the street through a trapdoor down into the underground abattoir. The fall was sufficient to break their legs, which rendered them motionless until the slaughterer was ready to cut their throats. “It’s enough to put you off mutton for life,” Edward said as they covered their faces with handkerchiefs. Micky thought it would take a lot more than that to put Edward off his lunch.
Once out of the City they hailed a hansom and directed it to Pall Mall. As soon as they were on their way, Micky began his prepared speech. He started by saying: “I hate a chap who spreads reports about another chap’s bad behavior.”
“Yes,” Edward said vaguely.
“But when it affects a chap’s friends, a chap is more or less obliged to say something.”
“Mmm.” Edward clearly had no idea what Micky was talking about.
“And I’d hate you to think I kept quiet about it just because he was a countryman of mine.”
There was a moment’s silence, then Edward said: “I’m not quite sure I follow you.”
“I’m talking about Tonio Silva.”
“Ah, yes. I suppose he can’t afford to pay what he owes me.”
“Utter nonsense. I know his family. They’re almost as rich as yours.” Micky was not afraid to tell this outrageous lie: people in London had no idea how wealthy South American families might be.
Edward was surprised. “Good Lord. I thought the opposite.”
“Not at all. He can afford it easily. That makes it worse.”
“What? Makes what worse?”
Micky gave a heavy sigh. “I’m afraid he has no intention of paying you. And he’s been going around boasting about it, saying you aren’t man enough to make him pay.”
Edward reddened. “Has he, by the devil! Not man enough! We’ll see about that.”
“I warned him not to underestimate you. I told him I was afraid you might not stand to be made a fool of. But he chose to ignore my advice.”
“The scoundrel. Well, if he won’t listen to wise counsel he may have to find out the truth the hard way.”
“It’s a shame,” said Micky.
Edward fumed in silence.
Micky fretted impatiently while the hansom crawled along the Strand. Tonio should be at the club by now. Edward was in just the right mood to quarrel. Everything was working out.
At last the cab pulled up outside the club. Micky waited while Edward paid the driver. They went inside. In the cloakroom, in a knot of people hanging up their hats, they met Tonio.
Micky tensed. He had put everything in place: now he could only cross his fingers and hope that the drama he had envisioned would play itself out as planned.
Tonio caught Edward’s eye, looked awkward, and said: “By Jove … Good morning, you two.”
Micky looked at Edward. His face turned pink and his eyes bulged, and he said: “See here, Silva.”
Tonio stared at him fearfully. “What is it, Pilaster?”
Edward said loudly: “About that hundred pounds.”
The room went suddenly quiet. Several people looked around and two men on their way out stopped in the doorway and turned to see. It was bad behavior to talk about money, and a gentleman would do so only in extreme circumstances. Everyone knew that Edward Pilaster had more money than he knew what to do with, so it was obvious he had some other motive for publicly mentioning Tonio’s debt. Bystanders sensed a scandal.
Tonio went white. “Yes?”
Edward said brutally: “You can let me have it today, if it would suit your convenience.”
A challenge had been issued. Plenty of people knew the debt was real, so there was no point in arguing about it.