Blackstone and the Wolf of Wall Street by Sally Spencer

lose my job,’ Fanshawe said, and this time he didn’t even pretend not to be begging.
    â€˜Why is it such a secret?’ Blackstone wondered.
    â€˜Because Wall Street has confidence in Big Bill,’ Fanshawe said, ‘and there’d be a real panic if they thought he wasn’t running the company any more.’
    â€˜Even though George and Harold have been running it successfully for some time?’
    â€˜Yes. It might not make sense to folk like you and me – but that’s the way they think on Wall Street.’
    â€˜What happens when he’s finished with the reports?’
    â€˜I take him his lunch, and he has his afternoon nap.’
    â€˜And then?’
    â€˜Sometimes he does a little more work in the afternoon, and sometimes he just sits there. At nine o’clock, I take him his dinner, and then he goes to bed.’
    â€˜I’ve known other prisoners like him,’ Blackstone said reflectively. ‘Men who have lost everything that they enjoyed in life, and now pass their days in a sort of semi-trance. What an existence!’
    â€˜Oh, you mustn’t feel sorry for him,’ Fanshawe said. ‘It’s the existence he has chosen for himself – and, most of the time, he seems perfectly content with it.’
    And maybe that contentment came mainly from the fact that he’d cheated his enemies and was still alive, Blackstone thought – though after the previous evening, it was perfectly possible that his luck had finally run out.
    â€˜Tell me about his visitors,’ he said.
    â€˜There’s Mr George, Mr Harold, the chambermaid and me – though I don’t know if you’d count me and the chambermaid as visitors.’
    â€˜Nobody else?’
    â€˜Haven’t Mr George and Mr Harold already told you about this?’ Fanshawe asked.
    â€˜Yes, they have,’ Blackstone said. ‘And now I’m asking you.’
    â€˜He has no other visitors,’ Fanshawe said – and it was obvious that he was lying.
    â€˜Tell me what happened last night,’ Blackstone said.
    â€˜I took him his tray at nine o’clock, asked if there was anything else he wanted, then retired for the night.’
    â€˜What about the rest of the staff?’
    â€˜They went to bed, too.’
    â€˜Does this house always turn in so early?’
    â€˜No. When Mr George and Mr Harold and their wives are here, there’s often a great deal of socializing, and it can be well after midnight before we get to bed. But when they’re away – as they were last night – I make it my business to see that the domestic staff has an opportunity to catch up on its sleep.’
    â€˜Meaning, you order the staff to bed.’
    The butler grinned. ‘That’s right. Who would ever have thought that an under-footman, who could never have aspired to be being a butler in the old world, would end up ordering twenty-odd people to go their beds in the new one?’
    â€˜You heard nothing unusual in the night?’
    â€˜I heard nothing at all . And neither did any of my staff.’
    â€˜Are you certain about that?’ Blackstone asked sceptically.
    â€˜Oh yes, sir, I took it on myself to question each and every one of them this morning.’
    Blackstone nodded. ‘You’ve been very helpful, Mr Fanshawe,’ he said, ‘and I won’t detain you from your duties any longer.’
    â€˜That’s very kind of you, sir,’ the butler said. ‘And I’m delighted to have obliged.’
    As they turned and walked back to the steps that led up to the house, Blackstone said, ‘Oh, by the way, Mr Fanshawe, was it you, or one of the brothers, who had the job of providing the women for Mr Holt?’
    It was a shot in the dark, but from the way Fanshawe hesitated before saying, ‘Women? I don’t know what you’re talking about, Inspector,’ it was clear that it had hit its target.

SEVEN
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