Page 35 of The Scent of Intuition
“Very good. I’d be the client and wouldn’t take it, so there would be no harm.”
He was smart and uncomfortably direct. If he were anyone else, Alfie would almost respect the prince. But he didn’t. He hated him because Bea liked him.
“How do I know that you won’t use this to manipulate a woman to do what you—”
“I would never!” The prince hit his fist on the counter and looked appalled. “That’s preposterous! Criminal! Immoral!”
Alfie cocked his head.
“Look, I’m not in line for anything; I’m merely trying to accomplish my mission.”
“Which is what?”
“Preventing harm to my people.”
“At the hands of?”
“An enemy I know of whom you are aware.”
Alfie quirked a brow. “You know nothing of my enemies.”You’re ranking at the top.
“I understand that you are friends with the Jewish jewelers at St. James.”
Alfie crossed his arms again and raised his chin. “So what?”
“The Klonimuses, Pearlers… Felix works in this practice with you, right?”
“Yes, Felix is the dentist here. His name is on the door.”Why was he pointing out the obvious?
“He uses gold. That gold comes from my country. And many want to subvert it without paying.”
“Thieves?”
The prince brushed the words aside as if they could be swept away like dust. “When countries clash with each other, it’s not theft. Not even a crime. An annexation is not a repossession in diplomacy. Persecution is not a manhunt, either. The bigger the scale, the more harmless the words.”
Even though he has a moral compass, I must hate him.
“Who’s your target?” Alfie asked.
“Richard Nagy.”
The man was the worst sort of scoundrel and nasty, with vile motives. If anyone had perfected the art of being a perpetrator of crimes against minority groups, Richard Nagy was the ultimate master. On top of that, he had an awful mannerism that made him seem like the victim—after he preyed on people based on their ethnicity, religion, or wealth.
“I beg your pardon?”
“And Baron Wolfgang von List.”
The only person worse than Nagy was von List, a Prussian baron on a self-appointed diplomatic duty to sully the waters in the English parliament, so that no equality would be given to theJewish citizens. If the prince had anything to do with either of these people, Alfie rather wished to stay far away from him.
“Leave my apothecary.”
The prince chuckled, widened his stance, and sucked his lower lip in. “I’ll bring you their weight and sizes from their tailor, but I take it you know who they are?”
“I can’t say.” Alfie sucked his cheeks in. Of course, he knew the no-gooders who never got caught abusing their stations and inflicting harm upon his Jewish friends. The temptation to extract information from the Prussian Baron von List and his lackey, Bailiff Richard Nagy, would give the Pearlers, the Klonimuses, and Felix more than mere ammunition to defend themselves. Helping under these circumstances would be a good deed and a big step toward justice where the authorities were misguided.
“Can I pick it up tomorrow morning? They’re playing cards at Langley’s house, and I’d like to show my generosity with a round of whiskey.”
Henry was the Earl of Langley, one of the best and most prominent patrons of the practice at 87 Harley Street. So he was involved, too. This information reassured Alfie because it meant that the prince was on the right side of the conflict.
