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The cold moon hung high; on the outskirts of London, within Cotswold Village, stood Herbert Manor.
Marvin stepped out of the manor's front gate, carelessly tossed away the blood-stained handkerchief, and climbed to the top of the hill. Gazing down at the darkened village below, he took a deep breath and exhaled a cloud of murky air.
After several hours, he and Edward had finally dealt with Sir Sander Haynes, President Herbert Asquith, and Dr. David Gladstone.
With Marvin's 'friendly exchange,' the three time-serving gentlemen agreed to write letters of recommendation for Russell Benjamin and promised to keep the secret.
There was no helping it; after all, their leverage had fallen into Marvin's hands.
Their actions were intolerable to both the nobility and commoners alike; if exposed, they would face complete ruin.
"Actually, you didn't need to come here in person,"
