Page 177 of Storm over the Caribbean
The next moment, we arrived in front of the central counter. Mr Ambrose reached out and slammed his newly acquired documents on the wooden surface.
“Trace this.”
The clerk looked up, irritated. “Look here, Sir, you can’t just storm in and demand…that…we…”
As he caught sight of Mr Ambrose’s face, his voice slowly trailed off.
“Mr A-A-Am—”
“Yes.”
“P-please wait, Sir, I’ll get the manager immediately!”
And, whirling around, the poor fellow rushed through a door behind the counter. It slammed shut, and, a moment later, muffled screaming came from beyond.
Sidling up to Mr Ambrose from behind, I stood up on my tiptoes till I was next to his ear. “Do all your employees all over the world recognize you on sight?”
“They didn’t use to. Then, one time, someone didn’t recognize me on sight when he really should have. There were consequences. The story spread.”
I opened my mouth, not quite sure what to say about that, when the decision was abruptly taken out of my hands. The door behind the counter flew open and a haggard-looking man in a blue tailcoat and bow-tie rushed out, starting to bow and scrape in front of Mr Ambrose.
I cocked an eyebrow at my dear husband questioningly. “Consequences?”
He nodded. “Consequences.”
“How may our humble branch be of service, Mr Ambrose, Sir?” the manager enquired with another deep bow. “I promise, we will do everything in our meagre power to help you with anything you might require, no matter what—”
Oh my. Already more than twenty seconds of useless babbling?
Let me guess…this fellow has never met Mr Ambrose before.
“Silence.”
The single-word command cut the bank manager off mid-sentence. The next moment, a certain piece of paper was slammed onto the counter.
“This account. I want its owner traced and located. I want their name. I want their address. I want to know anything and everything about them yesterday. Understood?”
“Y-yes, Mr Ambrose, Sir! As you wish, Mr Ambrose, Sir! I shall—”
“Adequate.” A cold glance from Mr Ambrose cut the man off once again. “I shall return in a few days. Donotdisappoint me.”
Without another word, he whirled around and stalked towards the exit. Hurrying after him, I waved at the manager over my shoulder, a wide smirk on my face. It was such a pleasure to watchother peoplebe ordered around by Mr Rikkard Ambrose.
We stepped outside into the sunshine, and I stretched, cranking my neck.
“So…how long do you think they’ll need?”
He just gave me a look.
I grinned. “Well…point taken. After that conversation, they’ll probably be quick about it.”
“They will likely still require a few days. Lamentable as it may be, mail does not travel from one island to another instantly.”
He looked as though he were personally offended by the fact.
“Don’t worry.” I patted his shoulder comfortingly. “I have no doubt someone will invent teleporting mail boats someday, just so you won’t have to waste more of your precious time.”
He sent me another look. One ofthoselooks.
