Alfred quietly sat on the bench and reflected on what Sam said. The Magistrate anxiously sat again next to him. Sensing a crack in his friend’s stubbornness he said, “The priests at the abbey are giving him an education… you are returning him back into life so to speak. Isn’t all that enough. I mean he should be gra___”
“That is the difference between you …and me” interrupted Al calmly, “you know what is just and right. But you only pity the child, and that is why you don’t think he’s worth fighting for. You value your own safety over his life. On the other hand, I love that child. I believe his family, his life and all his inheritance had been snatched from him in a most vicious way and__”
“Al, we cannot save the whole world” Sam cut him off despairingly, “there are so many miserable and poor people around. We just do what is reasonable…give him something to eat or some clothe to wear or…or something. But you don’t have to fight the demons of hell for him…you are literally signing your own death warrant.”
The two combating friends saw a servant girl approaching, so they stopped arguing. She announced that her master was waiting for them to have lunch. As soon as she left, they started walking back towards the house. Sam was still adamant to convince Al so he warned him, “One last thing I shall say to you. Just think what will happen to your beloved …child…if any harm befalls you? Would you give that a little thought?”
“My dear Sam,” Alfred replied, “You got it all wrong. I am not the one protecting or defending Michael. This poor kid survived … all these years in spite of unbelievable odds. He is twenty two years old, but he still has the mind and heart of a ten years old. I was not the one who got him through all the turmoil of those past years. Why would the Lord who helped him all that time, abandon him now? You see…that is why I am confident that we shall prevail”
Prince Williams the fearless had a tall imposing stature and liked to carry himself in an authoritative and commanding way. He was walking slowly in the gardens of the king’s palace, with his hands clasped behind his back, listening attentively to the report Bart Jacquard was delivering to him. The oldest of the Jacquard brothers was chubby and slow, but he had a face that immediately betrayed unabashed cruelty and greed. He was waving his big hands around to stress his points, “Your Highness, they met in the Grasso apple orchard outside the city two days ago. My spies couldn’t get in because they had a large contingency of guards around the place. As for the monster, he has completely disappeared. If you’d ask me, I think we should strike as soon as possible. At least that lawyer must be taken out. He is going to make a lot of waves about the Miller fire. It’s not like…you know… that was the only family we had to remove from our way!”
“Everything was going fine for the past ten years. We were just waiting for my old geezer to kick the bucket, and…we were making a lot of money,” Williams laughed merrily silencing Bart with a wave of his hand, “and wasting it too…I know…I know. What baffles me is how all this started to unravel,” He looked at his companion enquiringly and then continued. “Also, how can that monster disappear? He should stick out like a sore thumb anywhere he goes… Anyway, I disagree… If we kill the lawyer, the magistrate will make waves, and then we shall have to kill the magistrate too. This will be the second magistrate we push out…. Then may be Gilbert starts to make waves…and we are not ready for that…yet” He concluded.
“Did you talk to the king?” asked the conspirator.
“No, not yet…I am waiting to hear from the barbarians first. Once we secure the agreement with the barbarians,” answered Williams, “I can take that to the old man and thereby remove Gilbert from the picture. Only then we can do what we want with those pests” He stopped, turned around to face Jacquard, “have you prepared the money we shall pay the barbarian leader in case he agrees to accept our offer?”
“The money is ready. Just say where and when.” Bart Jacquard said confidently.
“My brother is spending time in the front with the soldiers. He may be anywhere at the southern border,” The Prince explained, “So I suggest that you avoid meeting your friends the barbarians there. You must find a way for their delegate to come across the border, probably at or near Janesville, and then meet them in Miller. Otherwise, your men may have to cross the border and meet them at Yansky.”
“Meeting in Miller is more secure, since our crossing the border will be highly suspicious.” Retorted Bart, “Also, we know that George – the Mayor of Miller – will be very cooperative. But, do I understand that you shall not attend the meeting?”
“Of course not…are you crazy? They should appear to have approached us with the request of a truce…not the other way around.” Said the prince raising his eyebrows, “And certainly I should never be anywhere around at the time of any money exchange.”
Bart Jacquard gnashed his teeth in discontent, but remained silent. Then Williams decided to end the discussion. He stopped, extended his hand to Jacquard for a hand shake saying, “Keep me informed of our progress” then he turned around and walked alone towards the palace. Bart stood still for a while, following the prince with his eyes. He was not happy to see how he was taking all the risks, while the prince was keeping himself squeaky clean. Bart Jacquard was a calculating man. If Williams was treating him with such disregard while he was still a prince, how shall it be like when he helps him climb the throne? Gratitude didn’t seem to be his strongest trait. The oldest Jacquard was already thinking of plan B in order to secure total control of the scheme leading up to installing a puppet king who would be subject to his power.
A month went by, during which Alfred was keenly aware that he was closely watched by Jacquard’s men. They tried to harass him several times to discourage him from continuing his investigations. Yet, his resolve never waned. He went to Janesville to look for witnesses and found two people who were Michael’s playmates when they were kids. They admitted talking to Michael when he went to buy the firewood. But they were too scared to testify. However, the poor old man who sold the wood to Michael bravely offered to help. That should clear Michael from the accusation that he started the fire. however, since somebody was trying to blame the fire on Michael, it follows that that somebody knows how the fire started…and it also meant that the fire was most probably not accidental!!
On a Monday afternoon, Al arrived at Miller, and went straight to the barber shop. He found one of the two men who attacked him sitting outside. He greeted him pleasantly, so the slow witted guy didn’t know how to react immediately. Before he could figure out what is happening, Al made his way inside.
“Hello George” Al said taking off his hat, “I see you have arranged for a welcoming party. It is always so gracious of you.”
The shocked barber fell back a few steps and then stammered, “Alf…red, Oh, Man you startled me. Um…what do you mean? I always like to see you…you know_____”
“Your sincerity is astounding my friend.” Al said sarcastically as the thug came rushing from the outside and stopped cold as he saw the two men talking. George waved him out, so he left the place. A more relaxed Alfred seated himself comfortably and began to talk casually, “Well, let’s see. Since you don’t have a client now and we can talk freely, I’d like to get some information…my… friend”
“What kind of information?” George asked.
“How did you become the mayor of Miller, for starter” inquired Al with a wink.
“Oh, that…well… By elections of course.” George answered with a silly grin.
“No doubt… but, how much money did you pay the Jacquards to cede the position to you after Solomon’s accident” asked Al again.
George started to laugh nervously saying, “Pay? Money?” he went on laughing, “you are imagining things my friend. I have no money…what money?”
“Indeed, what money?” Alfred mused. “At one point you didn’t even have money to pay your taxes. Except for the saving grace of Bernard Lind, you might as well have ended up in the dungeon… Now… look and behold, your shop is running fine, you are the illustrious mayor and in the last few years you managed to start a very lucrative pig farm.” Alfred stopped for a moment to gauge the mayor’s reaction. He then stood up and walked slowly towards him saying, “What is really amazing, is that the pig farm is located exactly where poor old Lind’s house once stood.”
____________________________________ Continued next week…