Chapter 47 – The Dartmoor Disappearance Case (5)

Monty and I attended the banquet hosted by the bank organising the auction.

In game terms, it was a reconnaissance mission.

You know, like in those death games where the organisers gather everyone to check them out. It was something like that.

"Hello, everyone. I am Lewis Montague Miller."

Naturally, Monty sat at the head of the table. Given his wealth and status, he was the highest rank there.

Introduced as his agent and tutor, I sat to Monty's right, with Mr. Arthur Conan Doyle, who had recently joined our group, on his left.

"Nice to meet you! I'm Christopher Casteares. I owe a lot to your father, hahaha!"

There was a hint of sarcasm in his words.

I looked at Christopher Casteares, the owner of Casteares Trading Company.

A sleek bald man with a cheerful, lively demeanour.

Quite an unusual gentleman for this era. Most would wear a wig.

Of course, like any bald merchant, he was not to be underestimated.

He was cunning, deliberately exposing his weakness to trap his opponents.

His capital might be modest, making his influence weak, but in terms of business acumen, he was probably superior to Mr. Miller.

"I am Demetrius Desmond. I have heard much about you. I envy Mr. Miller for having such a fine son."

On the other hand, the old merchant Demetrius was quite the opposite. He was a setting sun.

His comment about envying Mr. Miller was not just a pleasantry.

He had two sons; one died in an accident, and the other squandered his money on horse racing.

Of course, that didn't mean he could be underestimated. Having survived long in the business world meant he was well-seasoned.

He was a sly old fox who didn't show his true colours and probably had the most funds among us, excluding our side.

What was unusual was...

"I am Selena Shellman. I'm here on behalf of my husband. Nice to meet you."

She was the daughter-in-law of the Shellman family, with an enchanting smile.

A new face, different from those I had encountered before.

What was this? The heir to the Shellman family I knew was just an ordinary rich farmer. When did he remarry?

Moreover, this Latin woman had a sharp look in her eyes, like a snake picking out a delectable frog.

'Definitely one to watch…'

And finally, the invited guest from Funsby's side...

"Ah, ahaha. I apologise for being a bit late."

A senior executive, arriving late? I looked at Patrick Funsby, a jeweller, with curiosity.

We weren't familiar due to our different fields, but as a jeweller, he was well-seasoned and known for his diligence. Yet he was late.

Hmm, no. His pale face and trembling hands indicated he was in poor condition.

Well, merchants are human too. It could happen.

'Now then.'

Acumen.

Funds.

Atmosphere.

Expertise.

Returning to the battlefield after a long time made me feel a thrill.

The subtle undercurrent of competition in the air reminded me of how comfortably I had been living.

Just a few years ago, I had fought hard to survive in such a treacherous environment… I felt ashamed of how I had adapted to a comfortable life.

Of course, that didn't mean...

"Then.."

My duties didn't change much.

I scanned the room with a serious expression that I often wore on such occasions.

And then.

"I'll inform you in advance. Have you all reviewed the catalogue? Numbers 6, 9, 11, 17, 18, and from 20 to 32, and from 40 to 46. These are the items we intend to purchase from Ashfield. The rest, you may choose as you please."

"Hmm…"

"Whew."

"… Haha."

"… How rude."

Casteares was speechless, Funsby sighed in relief, Desmond just chuckled, and only Selena from Shellman glared at me with a displeased expression.

"How dare you speak like that in this place?"

"What kind of place… how amusing."

In other words, she considered me a novice.

I smiled faintly and spoke to her.

"Do you still not understand the situation?"

"What… did you say?"

"No, it seems this is your first time at such an event. Hmph, what is your family thinking…?"

I shook my head lightly and glared at her. She flinched momentarily.

"Rude… I don't understand why you consider this rude. We did what was necessary, and you heard what you should have heard."

"What, what…"

"Do you really think those two remained silent because they were clueless? Because they were too foolish to recognise rudeness?"

Do you really think so?

Shellman looked around, while the rest stared at her coldly.

"From the start, we weren't very interested in this auction. In a way, it's a matter of honour regarding our relationship with Baron Carlisle and Exeter Bank. But you raised your voice... I'm not sure who's being ruder."

Indeed, if this auction were truly significant, would Mr. Miller have sent me alone, no matter how trustworthy I am? And with his clearly marked son as well?

To us, this was literally like attending a wake and offering condolences.

Also, it was a chance to meet local people.

This is part of the local community.

So, of course, we claimed priority because we were the closest to Baron Carlisle and had the most influence in the area.

But not understanding this and acting recklessly…

Really, if that old Shellman wanted to leave a proper legacy, he should have chosen someone with a good reputation. It's all over.

"We will send an official letter regarding today."

As for the novice woman who's all about appearances… well, enjoy your meal.

"An insolent servant…"

She bared her teeth at me. So, when logic fails, attack the messenger?

Well, yes, I am a servant and insolent. But, you see…

What are you going to do? What can you do right now?

As I said before, this era was one where "Does your boss live in Nampo-dong?" worked. No, it was more than effective; sometimes, it was everything.

And no one is scared of a Chihuahua barking on a leash.

I just smiled at her.

"If my words upset you, you can bid on the items I just mentioned."

If you can, that is.

Of course, I didn't say that last part.

If necessary, just show the difference in power.

And at least anyone who knew how to handle money would have understood everything from what I just said.

"...Kuh!"

Fortunately, Selena Shellman was inexperienced but still a merchant. She suppressed her anger and lowered her head.

"Hahaha, you're still as straightforward as ever."

"Well, I'm just being honest."

"Really, Mr. Miller is lucky to have you. Hanslow, can't you reconsider my previous offer?"

As the conversation calmed, the bald man, Christopher Casteares, licked his lips and spoke.

I shook my head in disgust.

"Sorry, but I still owe Mr. Miller."

"Hahahaha! Fine, have it your way. But remember, I have a spot saved for you."

"I don't mind."

I would never work under someone else anyway. It was an empty promise.

But I nodded at the smooth-talking Casteares.

After all, there's no harm in staying on good terms with him. He nodded back, seemingly satisfied.

At that moment, Demetrius Desmond cleared his throat and spoke.

"Ahem, ahem. If the conversation is over, shall we have dinner? Sorry, I'm getting old…"

"Of course. After all, we do this to make a living."

I gestured to the waiting staff.

Hmm. Italian style. Not bad.

"Sorry, but may I return to my room?"

"Mr. Funsby, are you alright?"

"Ahaha. Yes. I just feel a bit unwell, the water didn't suit me…"

But Funsby left the room hurriedly without eating anything. Poor guy. The food was good too.

It wasn't just me; even Conan Doyle and the teenage Monty seemed quite satisfied with the meal, so it wasn't just my impression.

"Well, we'll be going now."

"Ah, Hanslow, if you're free later, could you come to the lounge? Mr. Desmond and I want to play a card game."

"If I have time, I will."

"Ahem, see you later then."

Still embarrassed from the earlier humiliation, Selena Shellman remained silent till the end.

If she planned to take over, she needed to integrate into this community quickly, but she was hopeless.

With that thought, I stood up with Monty and Mr. Conan Doyle.

As we passed through the corridor.

"You have quite a different aura when handling business."

"Oh? Really?"

"Yes, Hanslow. You seemed sharper and heavier than usual… it felt like you were a different person. Wasn't that too much for a show of force?"

Well, this is a world where you get taken down if you're underestimated.

Anyway, that's that, and more importantly, Monty was misunderstanding something.

"What happened today wasn't a show of force."

"Oh? Then what was it?"

"I just made them face reality."

"Uh… what?"

I smiled at Monty, who tilted his head as if he didn't understand.

"Since you don't know much about this industry yet, let me explain. Those four are not from major trading companies. It's only because we're in Devon that they can even talk to us."

Although Mr. Miller usually appeared easy-going and kind-hearted, he was fundamentally a person with the power to negotiate with 'that' Rothschild.

In fact, we were being quite considerate.

Moreover,

"They actually gained a lot from this."

"Huh? Why?"

"Knowing what the biggest buyer wants is an enormous benefit for them."

It wasn't just arbitrary high-handedness.

That's how things work at this level.

The higher the stakes, the more careful you have to be about injuries. No one gains anything from fighting recklessly.

That's why negotiations are conducted whenever possible.

In short, what we said was a kind of answer sheet. Avoid our interests, and you won't suffer losses.

"Instead, they must be greatly relieved. What we chose were just a few Japanese paintings, which are only for courtesy. We declared we wouldn't touch the real battlegrounds, like jewellery or real estate."

"Hmm, it's complicated…"

"There's no need to rush. Monty, you'll gradually understand."

High-ranking people always speak in circles.

But how did the Shellman family get so easily taken in by such a daughter-in-law?

As I was thinking about that,

"Anyway, it was impressive."

Arthur Conan Doyle, who had been silently walking beside us, nodded slowly.

"You're quite resourceful. I've met many people, but it's the first time I've seen someone handle a situation so smoothly. It's quite an example."

"You're too kind. Well, they played into our hands this time, anyway."

Ahem, I cleared my throat and asked.

So, what do you think? Do you think any of them could be the culprit?

Monty widened his eyes in surprise, but Arthur Conan Doyle shook his head lightly.

"You provoked them deliberately for that, didn't you? Unfortunately, I still don't know. Judging by their reactions, none seem suspicious."

He counted off on his fingers as he spoke.

"First, Shellman. She is obviously hot-blooded and of Latin descent, which she actually is. She flared up immediately when provoked. Someone like that can't organise a systematic conspiracy."

"Besides, she's new here. She probably doesn't even know who Baron Carlisle is."

"Right, and Demetrius. I saw him arrive later than me. Seeing him in person, he doesn't seem like someone who could scheme. He was like the ashes of a burnt-out fire."

"Yes, well… he does have a story behind him."

"The only suspicious one is Casteares, but his identity is clear, and you seem to know him well? May I ask what your relationship is?"

"It's nothing much. He offered to scout me. He asked me to leave and start a partnership with him."

"What?! Hanslow, are you leaving?!"

"Of course not."

I tapped Monty's head lightly in exasperation.

Even though he had a lot of money, I was making a substantial amount myself.

Adding my growing collection of masterpieces, I might even have more. Why would I want to be a dragon's head instead of a snake's tail?

—Ruff! Ruff! Ruff!

"Ahh!"

At that moment, the piercing sound of a dog barking, like thunder, hit my ears from outside.

What's this? A shepherd dog? They shouldn't let dogs bark so loudly at night.

"The sound really echoes."

"It's a basin, and there are many Rocky Mountains."

There aren't any bushes to absorb the sound, so it echoes loudly.

Look at Monty clinging to me in fear.

"Sorry! Are you alright?"

The person who came running was the elderly butler of Baron Carlisle's household.