Sword of Rome: Standard Bearer

by Richard Foreman

  “Never,” I replied, with perhaps more conviction in my heart than in my voice.

  “Thank you for keeping faith Bunny, and for keeping our guests entertained until my arrival.” Raffles had entered many a different residence before in silence, so it was unsurprising that he could enter his own apartment unnoticed too. “I apologise Mr Cardinal for my tardiness. And I hope that I haven’t put your nose out of joint too Sir, even more so than it already seems to be,” Raffles remarked when turning to Gough. The surly ex-soldier flared his nostrils and screwed up his face, offended, but Raffles ignored the fellow and lit a Sullivan. Cardinal raised a hand to his minder, which served to tame him.

  “I will not say that I have been overly content to wait this long Mr Raffles, but I am pleased that you have finally graced us with your presence.”

  “Bunny tells me that you are a cricket fan Mr Cardinal. You must let me apologise in deeds, rather than just words, and offer you and your associate a couple of tickets to the next Gentlemen versus Players match,” Raffles politely expressed whilst fixing himself a whisky and soda-water.

  “Your offer is kind, but unnecessary. Our time will now be brief this evening so I should come to the point. My interest in cricket, I should confess to you Mr Raffles, derives from my interest in making money. I am here tonight in order to represent a consortium of gentlemen who like to, shall we say, even the odds when deciding the outcome of a cricket match. You would make a valuable addition to our team of players. Most players join our ranks because, like Mr Manders here, they fall into debt and need a helping hand. Yet any money you make from us will be pure profit. Imagine, even when you lose a game of cricket, you could still be a winner in a financial sense.”

  Cardinal’s whole face here smiled – his mouth and serpentine eyes. The wrinkles in his brow were also smoothed out.

  I knew, more so than anyone, how Raffles was not immune from making a dishonest quick quid and I imagine that he was tempted by the devil’s offer – but Raffles was Raffles. He shook his head, as if bored or pitying the moneylender, and replied,

  “When the One Great Scorer comes

  To write against your name,

  He marks – not that you won or lost –

  But how you played the game.”

  The smile fell from the villain’s face as surely as if Raffles had just bowled him out. Indeed his smile turned into a grimace – but then Cardinal regained his composure. I dare say that few of the players in his team of match fixers had sold their souls so quickly – and the scout did not want to give up signing up such a prized player without giving him a second chance.

  “It would be unwise to say no now my friend, without giving the matter some serious thought. You could be saying goodbye to a lot of money by saying goodbye to my associates and I without a fair hearing.”

  “Money lost, little lost. Honour lost, much lost,” Raffles calmly replied, with silk and steel in his tone. “And I would thank you Mr Cardinal for not calling me your friend. My friend is sitting opposite you – and I can assure you that you and he are quite unalike.”

  The aged moneylender pursed his lips and his bony fingers gripped the arms of the leather chair like talons – but he finally smiled, twistedly, and responded.

  “Mr Manders may well be quite unlike me Mr Raffles, as you say, but we are tied together through a bond as strong – if not stronger – than friendship. That of a financial bond. And I’ll have my bond; speak not against my bond,” Cardinal remarked with dramatic relish, quoting his namesake Shylock.

  “Will you not reconsider your position and revert to the original terms of your agreement with Bunny? His investments will mature soon and you will have your money.”

  “I have the contract with me, but at no point does it include a clause in which a dandified cricketer can alter the terms of the agreement. ‘Tis not in the bond. And I’ll have my bond,” the usurer exclaimed, with glee and animus lacing his tone. “You think I but crave my money, but what I am merely looking for is justice. Isn’t that right Gough?”

  “That’s right, Mr Cardinal,” Gough chipped in, cracking his knuckles again and toothily grinning (to reveal a lack of front teeth).

  “Though justice be thy plea, consider this: that in the course of justice none of us should see salvation,” Raffles pronounced, quoting from The Merchant of Venice also.

  “It seems that you only have fine words to offer up, rather than actual money,” Cardinal drily posited.

  Raffles shook his head, either in pity for the moneylender - or in disappointment, that he could not save me from financial ruin.

  “You may dress like a gentleman Mr Cardinal, but the apparel does not always proclaim the man it seems.”

  “A.J, it’s fine if you have not been able to raise the capital. I am grateful for your help, but it was not your problem to solve,” I said disconsolately, trying my best to console my friend.

  “I have drawn up some new terms, which will extend the deadline for when you can repay your debt. I will grant you some additional time. But as I mentioned earlier in the evening Mr Manders time is money. If you would just read over and sign the new contract.”

  Raffles and I glanced at each other, but there would be no last minute reprieve. Yet I was heartened by the fact that, though I would lose my assets, I would not lose my friend. Gough retrieved some papers from his pocket and handed them to Cardinal, who tickled the air with his fingers in anticipation of receiving them before placing the contract on the table by his chair.

  “Here, use my pen old chap. Also, if you need some paper to blot the ink with use this,” Raffles said, whilst removing a five pound note from his inside pocket and handing it to me. “Or this, or this, or this, or this, or this, or this. Indeed, I do believe that I have enough blotting paper here Bunny to absorb all of your debts.”

  My prayers had been answered.

  5.

  Cardinal was aghast – and banged his tight, bony first upon the table, causing the contract to fall upon the carpet.

  “What is this mockery?” he loudly croaked, spittle falling upon the carpet too.

  “Justice,” Raffles wryly replied whilst still retrieving money from his pocket, as it were a magical font for the stuff.

  “You have made a fool out of me.”

  “We both know that you have made a fool out of yourself Mr Cardinal.”

  Gough here grunted, or snorted, and moved towards Raffles but Cardinal raised his hand again. Justice, or the law, would not be on his side if he were responsible for assaulting a gentleman in the Albany. It was not in the bond. Our Shylock merely proceeded to count the money, twice, before leaving. He did so in silence. Gough however pronounced the following, as he stood at the door.

  “Maybe we’ll bump into each other again someday Mr Raffles.”

  “I look forward to it. Note that you may need to change your tailor though should you wish to get in and encounter me at one of my clubs,” Raffles smilingly countered, riling the brute even more.

  It was only when my former tormenters exited – and I locked the door behind them – that I finally sighed with relief. Raffles and I then laughed, albeit for what exact reason I knew not. I clasped my friend heartily by the hand and thanked him, tears welling in my eyes – before finally giving in to my emotions, for once, and embracing him. It was only when we were sat by the fireplace, whisky and soda-waters in hand, that I finally asked,

  “How did you do it? Where did the money come from? I promise to pay you back A.J – and with interest, should you desire it.”

  “There’s no need to pay me back. As I told you before old chap, you would be paying off your debt with your own hard earned money. Well, maybe I was exaggerating about the hard earned bit. Perhaps we should say, well earned.”

  “But I’m stumped. What money have I earned?”

  “The money from our job this evening. You were right the other night Bunny. We needed a target that was wealthy – and whose house would be empty. Some people
rob Peter to pay Paul. We robbed an Alexander, in order to pay Alexander.”

  My eyes widened in shock, but then in mirth. Things fell into place, like a tumbler lock within a safe.

  “I had to meet the fence directly afterwards – and recognising my desperation he robbed us on the price for our boodle – but your half of the haul more than covered your debts old chap. So cheers.”

  “To a cardinal crime,” I added, as we clinked glasses.

  “Now for that you should be punished Bunny.”

  “You do not think that he will suspect foul play on our part?”

  “I am a dandified cricketer Bunny, who is wealthy enough to turn down a bribe to fix a match. I suspect that I will be beyond suspicion. No, the list of potential culprits will run as long as his account books. I dare say, as a result of this night, the old miser will be even more disinclined to venture outside.”

  “Raffles. You are the man who can turn someone’s fortunes at the turn of a lock. I feel I will be forever in your debt however. Thank you.”

  “You have no need to thank me old chap, it was my pleasure. Besides, more than you thanking me, I should be apologising to you.”

  “How so?”

  “Mea culpa. I ran out of tonic water.”

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