Chapter 187
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 187
The biting cold that had gripped the turn of the year slowly began to thaw as January passed. By mid-February, it had all but vanished.
The bleak winds softened, and after a few bouts of rain, sharp leaf buds and flower blossoms peeked out from bare branches, announcing that spring had truly arrived.
It was around that time that the news broke: Harriet would be salvaging a boat from the lake in Albrecht Park.
"…Twelve years ago, as a mere child of twelve, she was forced to accept her parents' obituaries without even the courtesy of a proper investigation. Yet, she never once forgot the sorrow of that day.
Now, having grown into a woman of influence, Miss Harriet intends to salvage the vessel her late parents were aboard. She hopes to raise it from the lakebed to commemorate her parents, who met such a sudden and tragic end.
According to Mr. Morris Declan of the nascent marine exploration firm, Wesca Marine Industry, the operation is entirely feasible. Miss Harriet has already secured permission from Viscount Preston, the owner of Albrecht Park.
The impetus for this decision is her lingering suspicion that her parents were, in fact, murdered…"
The article didn't cause an immediate sensation. More scandalous news broke every day, often overshadowing interest in those long dead.
But for John, the story was a thunderclap—enough to make him nearly fall out of bed.
"C-crazy! What on earth is that girl trying to do now?!"
The hand clutching the newspaper trembled violently. Suddenly, Harriet’s previous warnings flashed through his mind.
“I know more than you think, Uncle.”
“Because I heard something about the Albrecht Park accident eleven years ago.”
He had been worried for a moment back then, but after hearing Bella say, “Why fear someone like Harriet?” he had pushed it aside. To think his carelessness would lead to this.
No. That boat won't yield any evidence. There are no witnesses left. That brat can't do a thing.
John tried to steady his racing heart.
The only living witnesses to the incident were the relatives and acquaintances who had seen him weeping in "sorrow." John had no doubt they would take his side. He had performed his grief so convincingly back then that people felt more pity for the man who had lost his brother than for the girl left orphaned.
Besides, the idea of raising a boat from Tasia Lake was absurd. It was highly unlikely that a boat from twelve years ago would still be intact. Even if they found it, it would surely crumble during the salvage process.
Yes, it’s fine. It’ll be fine.
John used one hand to pin down his trembling other, repeating the mantra to himself all day long.
However, the fractured memories of that day continued to haunt him. Had he missed something? Had someone been watching from the shadows?
Eventually, he couldn't take the anxiety anymore and bolted upright.
"I have to do something. Anything!"
The easiest place to start was slandering Harriet. It was a familiar tactic, one he had perfected over the years.
John first gathered their relatives. While criticizing his niece’s "reckless and overly emotional" behavior, he lamented that this stunt would only tarnish the honor of his deceased brother and sister-in-law.
After the relatives, he vented his grievances to his acquaintances and even sat down with a newspaper reporter for an interview. An article titled ‘The Listerwell Family Expresses Discomfort’ would likely hit the stands soon.
The rumors will take on a life of their own. Now, I need to handle the other side.
He spent the next few days in a frantic blur. He hired a broker to arrange a secret meeting and rented out a shabby inn on the outskirts of the capital for an entire day.
The man the broker brought to him was Morris Declan, the head of Wesca Marine Industry.
Nothing good will come of that boat being raised. If I’d known Harriet would go this far, I would have built a connection with the Prestons sooner…
It was too late for that now, so he had to target Morris instead.
Sitting at a table in the inn’s ground-floor restaurant—which felt eerily desolate—John looked across at Morris. He noticed the man’s jacket sleeves were frayed and shiny with wear, and his white shirt was faded. John’s brow furrowed in involuntary disgust.
He’s just a diver from Wesca, isn’t he? That bitch Harriet always surrounds herself with people of his sort… with the exception of Duke Kailas.
John waited for the man to offer a greeting as was his due, but Morris didn't hesitate. He bowed his head first.
"Oh, hello there. My name is Morris Declan. And the name of the gentleman who sought me out so urgently is…"
"You don't need to know."
"Well, it must be Viscount John Listerwell."
John flinched. He doesn't seem to be completely brainless.
Though he felt uneasy about his identity being exposed, it would be awkward to deny it, especially since they would inevitably cross paths on the day of the salvage. He snorted as if it were of no consequence and got straight to the point.
"You're interested in the terms I sent, which is why you came all this way, isn't it?"
"Hahaha! You're offering 800,000 Dirham for a small favor; how could I not be interested?"
John curled a corner of his mouth. Men who reacted to money were easy to manipulate. While 800,000 Dirham was a significant sum, if it settled the matter, it was a worthy investment.
"I heard you're raising a boat from Albrecht Park."
"Yes, yes. Are you perhaps interested in salvaging shipwrecks? We're planning to salvage treasure ships left abandoned at the bottom of the sea…!"
As Morris began to rattle off his business plan with an excited face, John raised a hand to silence him.
"What I need you to do is simple. Fail the salvage operation."
"Huh? Why? Why would I do that?"
"If that boat comes up, many people will be troubled. It does no one any good to create a disturbance just because some foolish girl wants to vent her resentment."
"Haa… That's a bit difficult…" Morris scratched the back of his head, looking troubled.
John’s patience wore thin. "How much is Harriet paying you?"
"It's not about the money. This is our company's first official project. I need to prove our capabilities so investors will flock to us and I can expand the business."
"Then let's do this," John countered. "Bring the hull out of the water, but destroy it while moving it ashore. Make it look like an accident. It’s been submerged for a long time, so it’s already fragile; a slight bump should make the bottom fall apart."
At his words, Morris looked at him with a strange, knowing gaze.
"You know a lot about this, don't you?"
John panicked for a split second. "Th-that… anyone could predict that just by reading the papers! Anyway, can you do it or not?"
"Hmm… It's not impossible, but it would be difficult for only 800,000 Dirham."
"What?"
"One million Dirham, flat! For that, I’ll make sure it breaks naturally and sinks right back to the bottom of the lake."
Only then did John realize that Morris was not the simple, servile man his appearance suggested. In fact, his shabby clothes might have been a calculated move to make his opponents drop their guard.
His pride stung at losing the upper hand to a commoner, but he couldn't back down now.
"…Fine. But don't you dare try to change the terms after this. Unless you want to welcome some very unwelcome guests."
"Oh, don't worry! Shall we draw up a contract for trust, then? I’ll tell you in advance, I require ten percent as an upfront payment."
Morris pulled a prepared pen and paper from his bag and began to skillfully draft the document.
John, who had been considering withholding payment or simply getting rid of Morris once the job was done, had no choice but to hand over 100,000 Dirham immediately, caught off guard by the man’s meticulousness.
* * *
The news that an old sunken boat would be raised from Tasia Lake in Albrecht Park drew more attention as the weather warmed. This was largely thanks to the Preston family announcing that the park would be open to the public for free that day.
The weather had been beautiful since the start of March, and since a salvage operation was a rare sight, the capital’s nobility treated it like a major social event.
On the long-awaited morning of March 10th, spectators gathered along the lakeside. They spread out picnic blankets and set out refreshments, turning the grim affair into a festive outing.
Among the crowd were the Listerwell family—excluding Bella—as well as Imperial Investigators who had arrived at Harriet's request.
John, sensing an opportunity, cornered one of the investigators and began to complain.
"This is truly insane! Even if it concerns her parents, it's a family matter, isn't it? We intend to sue Harriet for defamation."
The investigator looked at him with a puzzled expression. "The previous Family Head died under suspicious circumstances. Why is seeking the truth considered a disgrace to the family?"
"Because it wasn't suspicious! It was a simple accident! Harriet… she pathologically craves attention. Becoming the Duke's mistress was mortifying enough, but now she's using her parents' deaths for a spectacle! Ugh!"
His performance was flawless. With years of practice, he looked exactly like a grieving uncle whose heart was breaking over a problematic niece.
But he had overlooked two things.
First, the social standing of the Listerwell family had plummeted since Bella was jilted by James. Second, Harriet's status had changed completely.
"Few would misinterpret Miss Listerwell’s intentions, Your Excellency. There is no need for concern," the investigator replied coolly. "Frankly, I find it more surprising that you aren't the one leading the charge to help her."
"Huh? Oh, no, it’s easy for you to say when it’s someone else’s family matter…!"
John’s protest died in his throat. Harriet had appeared, walking toward the lake with an older man at her side.