by David Drake
“His father will be pleased,” Deirdre said. “As am I.”
She too cleared her throat before she continued, “I’ve prepared accounts for you—”
Deirdre made a slight gesture toward the upper floors. A lifetime ago Adele had sat in one of the rooms up there and scribbled a note to Deirdre Leary.
“You’ll want to review them at leisure, of course,” Deirdre said. “But if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to take a moment now to go over the main heads of my actions as your agent.”
“Yes,” said Adele crisply. She hadn’t intended to hand over general control over her assets, but she didn’t doubt that Deirdre’s lawyers would be able to show that she had. Did she have any money at all left? “I think that would be best.”
Deirdre paused for a moment, perhaps wondering if Adele wanted to adjourn to one of the drawing rooms. All Adele wanted was to learn her present financial condition in the quickest, baldest fashion possible.
“Realizing that your present household doesn’t require all the available space,” Deirdre said, “I leased the second floor to a bank. It will use the rooms for confidential meetings and may sometimes house clients who desire complete privacy while staying in Xenos.”
She gestured around her, then continued, “Under terms of the lease, the bank is responsible for renovating the building. It also provides both ordinary staff and security.”
At the word “security,” Tovera’s mouth bent in what Adele had learned to call a smile. There was humor of a sort in the expression.
Deirdre started minutely, as though she’d touched something that gave her a static spark. Her voice remained firm as she resumed, “If you object to the bank’s choice of decor—”
“I do not,” Adele said. The words came out like the wards of a lock falling.
“Very good,” said Deirdre. “You retain power of veto, however, whether or not you choose to exercise it.”
“When you say ‘bank,’ ” Adele said, “you mean the Shippers’ and Merchants’ Treasury, do you not? Your bank.”
“I’m an officer of the Shippers’ and Merchants’, yes,” Deirdre said with a cool smile. “In the present case, however, I was acting solely as your agent when I dealt with the president and majority shareholder.”
“That would be Corder Leary,” Adele said. She hadn’t thought to look up the bank’s ownership, but realistically she had no need to do so. “Your father.”
“Yes,” said Deirdre. “It would.”
Men were coming down the street. One of them bawled out the house numbers as they passed in a voice better suited to calling cattle home.
“The bank’s use of the premises will be infrequent,” Deirdre said. “I understand they’ve employed a blind agent to sublet their portion to a young naval officer who needs rooms while he’s in Xenos. Most of the time he’ll be away on naval business. RCN business, I believe you’d call it?”
“Yes,” said Adele. “That’s what we call it. And if I’m not mistaken, Deirdre, here comes that young naval officer right now.”
She turned to look down the street.
“Why look, Hogg!” cried Daniel Leary. “There’s Adele! What are you doing here, Adele? And by heaven, isn’t that my sister Deirdre?”
THE END
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