Muddied Waters - Coda

Chapter Four - Benevolent Despot

Alger Moore rode his horse through the gates of northern London and began his long journey northwest back home to Liverpool. Highly unusual for a man of his status to be travelling alone, his business partners had taken some convincing to allow him his solitude. Such was Alger's lack of motivation for haste that an otherwise two-day trip ended up taking him three. His colleagues would be vexed and their plans for pushing him out of their Merseyside Trading Company would appear even more justified. Alger was living on borrowed time. So, goddamn his debtors. He'd borrow more.

Conspiracy to oust the Moores began long before his father's death. If Alger's intuition served him well, the seed had been planted not long after the prodigal son's return from Nassau. Resting briefly by a stream so his horse could drink, Alger reminisced fondly of the man who'd brought him into this world – a man he'd buried less than two weeks prior. He missed him dearly and the notion of how his father must have felt during his own lengthy absence provided a somewhat comforting perspective. Few things had struck him as much as the feeling of being embraced on Liverpool's busiest dock. How jarringly strong it had been, as if his father were afraid his son would disappear again if he were to let go. They'd exchanged no words until the next day, silently enjoying a reunion neither had expected. The Moores had never been much for exposition.

Alger the boy had spent the better part of his two-month voyage home gearing up for lengthy interviews, ready to answer every question and recount exactly what had transpired since the Coffer's theft. The inquiries carried out by the board were lengthy and antagonistic – the ones carried out by the insurance company even more so. Yet the only information Alger Sr. had really pressed his son on were the whereabouts of Cameron Milligan. Those conversations had been the most difficult. It seemed amusing to Alger now how little he'd known of his father's character until that point – how quickly the man had proven where his loyalties actually lay. Their partners noticed this as well and viewed it as proof of disdain for the MSTC. England was changing. The monarchy was becoming more and more removed from politics and the upper class were losing their once-firm grip on those they held below them. There were those who were awakening to the prospect of earning something...anything...and there were those who had everything, unwilling to part with anything, and using all the waning power they had to stand in their way. If Alger Sr. could not be trusted to unequivocally uphold the status quo as it seemed profitable to his long-time business partners, it could only be assumed that he was fighting against it. As for his son, a wayward adolescent who'd spent months at sea carousing with criminals and miscreants at the expense of their assets and revenues...well, it would have been better if he'd never returned.

In the end though, both the board and claims adjusters had grudgingly accepted Alger's accounts of what had transpired on their stolen and subsequently sunk merchant vessel, and he had been found innocent of any foul play. With that hurdle out of the way, Alger focused on picking up where he had left off: finishing his schooling, reconnecting with friends and acquaintances, and dipping his toes into running his father's business. Falling backwards into a life he'd all but forgotten was better than anything else he would have been able to come up with – if there were even another path to be offered, as far as therapy went. But as everyone around him grew to realize, Alger was a changed man, incapable of narrowing his world view back down to their level. A fast-flowing river can carve away at the edges of trauma and hurt but is never quite able to dislodge the largest pieces.

He returned to his estate just as the sun was setting. The live-in housekeeper Mathias met him at the door.

"Hello!" the jovial servant greeted with an infectious smile that Alger returned with gusto. "Stop to the smell the roses, sah?"

"I took the opportunity to run a few errands," Alger chuckled, handing Mathias his coat.

"Mr. Livingston was here this morning. Seemed very agitated that you hadn't yet arrived."