Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
‘Interesting.’
He nods to himself and holds his glass out for Ruby to fill. ‘Tell me about these highwaymen.’
I catch Ruby shaking her head, either begging me not to rat her out or not quite believing I’ve lied about my name. It’s probably a bit of both, but the former is of particular concern to me, for I expect she is fearful of Fleming’s fists. I would like to see him try on my watch.
‘You sound quite interested.’
‘My coach was ambushed yesterday on the common. I was informed that Hampstead Heath has become quite dangerous, but to avoid it would have put an extra day on my journey and I did not have time for that.’
‘I am running a report imminently on their activities and will soon discover the faces and names behind those high scarfs and low hats.’
‘And how, may I ask, do you propose to do that? From what I have heard and now experienced, they are quite elusive and work rather fast.’
And mysterious. ‘I have my ways,’ I muse. ‘I expect it will be a rather popular piece.’
‘I for one would be most curious to discover the identity of the men who took my purse. Not that I was terrified, you must understand.’
‘Of course.’ I smile. ‘I expect it would take much more to have a strapping man such as yourself trembling in your boots.’
Fleming huffs his agreement and throws back his drink. ‘You must keep me informed of your progress and notify me immediately upon your discovery of who they are. Bring them to me.’
Oh, I will. If I get something in return. ‘So, you’re in transportation, you say?’
‘That’s what I said.’
‘Perhaps there is an opportunity for us both here, Mr Fleming.’
‘Elaborate, Melrose, and be quick about it. I have more Scotch to drink and a woman to hump.’
I inwardly wince. And highwaymen to exact revenge on, for I have not known Fleming for all that long, but it is obvious he is a self-important man who holds a grudge. ‘As I was saying, I expect this story to be vastly popular. I can handle the volume of printing, meet demand, but I am looking for the means to deliver the story far and wide.’
His bushy eyebrow quirks. ‘You want access to my means of transportation?’
‘It will be worth your while.’ Fleming, while quite arrogant, is a businessman, and he’s useful to The London Times.
‘Tell me how.’
‘Revenge is sweet, Mr Fleming, but plump pockets are sweeter. With your transportation, I can take The London Times national, perhaps even global.’
‘You bring me the highwaymen, I might consider it.’
How did I become a vigilante? ‘I’m no Bow Street Runner, Mr Fleming, I am merely a businessman and heir to The London Times.’
He leans forward, and I lean back as a result, just in case one of those buttons pings off. ‘I became a rich man because I make calculated business decisions. How many copies do you sell?’
‘At best, fifteen thousand.’
‘And one assumes the quality of the content dictates the demand.’
‘Of course.’
‘And you think your story on the highwaymen will help.’
‘Absolutely. I’ll even credit you with their capture. Free advertisement for your business, too.’ Going national in the future? I smile, imagining Papa’s face.
‘Sell twenty thousand and we’ll talk again.’
Twenty? ‘That’s nearly one edition for every person who lives in Coventry, Fleming. One for every thirtieth person who resides here in London.’ How ridiculous! Any one of our newspapers is read dozens of times by different people. Seven bloody pence per copy is the reason why, God damn taxes.
‘It is not worth my while otherwise.’ He takes more Scotch, and I sink more gin, feeling the pressure. Of course, I have every faith in myself and the story. But … twenty thousand? We will need another two machines, not one! I pout, thinking, my mind, which is becoming increasingly foggy, beginning to ache too, as I try to concoct a plan to get my story in the pages. I am certain I can achieve those numbers. Certain! But how if not given the opportunity? I need my story out there to not only sate this newfound and quite unquenchable drive in me, but also to advance the business. I am wounded by my father’s lack of confidence in me, but, I accept I am without the substantiated evidence to prove his concerns are misplaced.
I slump further into my chair, ignoring Fleming in the next seat who has invited Ruby back onto his lap for a fondle. And I certainly do not want to marry in order to prove my devotion to sensibility. Good grief, how did this happen?
‘How might I keep in contact with you?’ I ask without looking at him.
‘I will be staying with my cousin in Belmore Square,’ he answers in between squeezes of Ruby’s breasts.
‘Your cousin lives in Belmore Square?’