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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 25
Chapter Title: Sorting the Scraps
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Just as Killian had predicted, James sought out Turner the next day and received the exact answer he'd expected.
"I'll accept the offer you made yesterday. The terms are still valid as of yesterday, correct?"
"Of course. But you look a bit tired. Did you happen to stay up all night?"
"It's just that I tend to be thorough when I work. If I've made you uncomfortable, I apologize."
So he'd spent the whole night combing through the ledgers, looking for anything suspicious.
The fact that he found nothing amiss was a testament to how perfectly our scheme had succeeded.
"Business ought to be done thoroughly. You'll be able to make even more money than this in the future. Ha ha ha!"
"Thank you for seeing it that way. You, Mr. Richard, are the one who will see even greater success. I only hope you'll remember us then."
"Naturally. And you, don't you forget me."
A perfect picture of mutual deception.
Their smiles, hiding intentions pointing in opposite directions, met as they exchanged the contracts.
"Then the terms are as we discussed yesterday. Is there anything you'd like to add or ask?"
"No. It's perfect."
"Then here is the account with the 150,000 pounds deposited as collateral, and the bank certificate proving ownership of the account. Ah, but in case something unforeseen happens, who should I designate as the person authorized to make withdrawals from the account? You? Or should it be your entire company staff?"
For a moment, Turner's gaze swiftly swept over all his subordinates.
They were colleagues who had shared thick and thin, but in the face of a massive sum like 150,000 pounds, such trust was worth less than a speck of dust.
Without a second's hesitation, Turner wrote his own name on the contract.
"I believe I alone will be sufficient as the authorized person. Of course, I trust that no such accident will occur."
"As do I. Still, contracts must be thorough to prevent any issues later. So, for now, we'll make it so only you can withdraw money from this account. As for your 150,000 pounds, how will we be receiving it?"
"I'll prepare the promissory notes right away. However, since we use five different banks, it may be a bit of a hassle, but I'll have to ask for your trouble."
"Using multiple banks to mitigate risk? You truly are a thorough man."
Of course, the real reason was that he had to create a new company for every scam, which meant changing banks each time.
Still, as I feigned ignorance and praised him, Turner chuckled awkwardly and scratched his head.
And about an hour later.
Having finalized all the contracts, James accepted the bundle of promissory notes Turner handed him.
"I'll let you know once a week how the business is progressing, so you can rest easy and wait."
"Yes. We'll be waiting with peace of mind."
Did he truly believe, even at the very last moment, that a huge sum of money would roll into his hands?
It was a stark reminder of how greed can blind a person.
Clutching the immense byproduct shed from the steel rails built on people's blood and tears, James turned his back on the dull-witted prey he would never see again.
* * *
A suspicious person goes through countless deliberations before making a decision.
But once a decision is made, it often takes a long time for them to accept that they have made a mistake.
Mark Turner, who had preyed on the innocent for ten years, followed the same path.
For the first week, various progress reports arrived as per the contract.
But, naturally, no news came the following week. At first, Turner dismissed it as a trivial incident.
"These nouveau riche who strike it rich overnight really have no class. All talk, but their work is sloppy."
"Indeed."
As long as he held the account with 150,000 pounds as collateral, the other party had no choice but to do their job properly if they didn't want to lose their own money.
He had already confirmed that the certificate, which stated that no one but Mark Turner could withdraw money from the account before the agreed-upon date, was not a forgery, so he felt no anxiety.
However, when one week turned into two, and still no contact, he couldn't help but feel that something was amiss.
"Boss, don't you think we should check on it?"
"I suppose we should. Let's wait until the end of today, and if there's no word, we'll look into it immediately."
"Could there be a problem with the contract?"
"Even if there is, they should at least inform us. What kind of business do they think they're running?"
His patience finally worn thin, Turner sent his men to find out what was going on.
"B-Boss! We have a huge problem. The Twain Company's London branch, which was there just last week, has suddenly vanished!"
"What? Are you saying those bastards skipped town?"
"I-I don't know. They were operating there just fine until last week…"
"Aren't they just out of the office for a bit?"
For a moment, he wondered if he'd been scammed, but logically, there was no reason for them to run off with his money.
Even if they took his 150,000 pounds, he held their 150,000 pounds in collateral, making it a zero-sum game.
He had already confirmed that the certificate issued by the bank was undoubtedly real.
So, no matter how he looked at it, he wouldn't suffer a loss even if the business went sour.
"I don't understand. Look into it more closely. Unless those guys are idiots, they wouldn't pull a scam like this."
Hoping it was some kind of mistake, he had his men investigate several more times, but nothing changed.
The entity known as the Twain Company had vanished without a trace in the past few days, and the progress reports they had sent were, after a few days of investigation, determined to be fake.
So, was this all a scam after all?
His heart racing, Turner grabbed the bank certificate and rushed out the door without a second glance.
He was a man who couldn't wander around freely, so he usually had his employees handle such matters, but this time was different.
He was the only one with the authority to withdraw money from the bank, so he had to go and get the money himself, no matter what.
If he could withdraw all the collateral money and move it to a safe place, he could end this inexplicable situation without any loss.
But what on earth was that bastard Richard's intention in approaching him with this charade?
Even as he hurried toward the bank, Turner still couldn't begin to fathom the true nature of the scheme.
* * *
I received word that he had left his office, so he should be arriving soon. Is his running speed slower than I thought?
"Is there anything you're looking for, sir?"
As James sat leisurely sipping tea in the reception room of the bank where the collateral was held, the bank manager approached, rubbing his hands together obsequiously.
"No. I just came by today to see if there were any good terms available."
"If the House of Earl Aaron would deign to use our services, we would naturally have to treat you with the utmost respect. Our bank, despite appearances, is quite solid, and we pride ourselves on providing better customer service than the surrounding banks."
"Ah, I see. By the way…"
Just as I was about to make up some idle chatter,
a loud bang came from beyond the window, and a middle-aged man was seen rushing frantically into the bank.
His appearance matched the description I had given James perfectly; it was undoubtedly Mark Turner himself.
He had run so hard that he was panting heavily as he rushed to the counter and shouted.
"I… I need to withdraw money. Pl-please check… please check something for me."
"Yes, how may I help you?"
"Here. Has anyone withdrawn money from this account in the last two weeks?"
"Please wait a moment."
In this era, all bank information was, of course, recorded by hand, so it took a little time to verify.
To Turner, this moment of waiting must have felt like an eternity.
I could easily guess how anxious he was just by looking at his face through the window.
"Yes, thank you for waiting. There are no records of withdrawals in the last two weeks. Before that, Mr. Richard Twain himself withdrew ten pounds, and that was all."
"O-Oh! So that's how it was. Thank goodness."
Something was strange, but what a relief not to have lost the principal.
With a voice overflowing with a joy that seemed to possess the entire world, Turner continued.
"Then please withdraw all the available money from this account immediately. If you're short on banknotes, gold, silver, or even promissory notes will do."
"I don't think we'll be short. It's possible to do it right now."
The clerk looked at Turner with a peculiar expression, but Turner, who had just been psychologically cornered, had no capacity to notice such a gaze.
"Then give it to me right now! Hurry!"
"Yes. Then I will give you the total withdrawable amount from the account, which is five pounds."
"Right, right. Five pounds… hmm? What did you say? Five pounds?"
"Yes. The total amount you can withdraw from your account is five pounds."
"What kind of bullshit is that!"
As Turner roared, not only my gaze but also that of the bank manager, who had been brewing tea, shot toward the commotion outside.
He glanced at me nervously and offered an embarrassed smile.
"Ha, haha… It seems there's some disturbance outside. We occasionally get noisy customers like that. I'll call someone right away to…"
"No, it's fine. This is interesting, let's keep watching. I'm curious to know what he's so angry about."
"Hahaha, of course. If the Young Master isn't inconvenienced, I'll just leave it be. Most people like that mess things up through their own mistakes and then try to blame the bank. It's quite a predicament for me. Running a bank would be so much easier without people like them."
"I can imagine. You have it tough."
As I lifted the teacup the bank manager had poured for me and savored its aroma, I could hear the clerk's calm explanation continuing outside.
"It's not bullshit, sir, I'm telling you the truth. The amount you can withdraw right now is five pounds in total."
"It's clearly printed here as 150,005 pounds! Who the hell gave you the authority to say only five pounds can be withdrawn! If you have eyes, look properly!"
"Yes, the account certainly contains 150,005 pounds, but only five pounds is available for withdrawal."
"So what the hell does that mean! The money is in the account! And I have the authority to withdraw it, so why can't I take it out!"
150,000 pounds was an absurdly large sum of money, worth nearly 31 billion won in modern times.
Anyone told they couldn't withdraw such an amount, even though it was clearly in their account, would surely lose their mind.
Still, the bank clerk calmly explained to Turner, who was on the verge of a seizure.
"The 150,000 pounds in this account was deposited as collateral for a 150,000-pound loan Mr. Richard Twain took from our bank. Therefore, the bank has a claim on the 150,000 pounds. In other words, it cannot be withdrawn without the bank manager's consent."
"...What? He took out a loan for what, and deposited what as collateral?"
"Mr. Richard Twain took out a 150,000-pound loan and deposited an account containing 150,000 pounds as collateral."
"Don't give me that bullshit! What kind of bank in the world would just hand over 150,000 pounds for a loan…"
Turner, who had been screaming wildly, suddenly fell silent, as if it occurred to him that it wasn't entirely impossible.
Naturally, no bank in the world would grant a loan of 150,000 pounds for free.
But what reason would there be not to grant a loan if someone deposited 150,000 pounds into an account and offered it as collateral?
From the bank's perspective, not a single penny had actually left their coffers.
On the contrary, they had even earned interest, albeit for just one month, so they had made a small profit, not a loss.
"N-No… what kind of idiot takes out a loan in such a stupid way! There's no reason to get a loan in the first place then."
"We don't concern ourselves with our customers' personal circumstances. There were no procedural or legal issues, so we granted the loan according to our standards. However, since Mr. Richard Twain has not yet repaid the loan, the amount in this account cannot be withdrawn. If the interest is overdue next month as well, this entire amount will be forfeited to the bank to repay the loan."
"This… this is insane. So you're telling me that bastard palmed off an account already pledged as collateral to the bank as collateral for me?"
Finally understanding the situation, Turner stood rooted to the spot as if his soul had left him, muttering to himself.
Just as he understood, the collateral I had used as bait to hook Turner from the very beginning was a fake account created for fraudulent purposes.
If you ask a bank for a large loan, deposit that same amount into an account, and then offer that account as collateral to the bank, it becomes a transaction where, in effect, no money is exchanged between me and the bank.
However, the account with a large sum of money in it is certainly on the record.
Using such a fake account for scams was a fairly common method in the mid-to-late 20th century, when laws were not so meticulous.
Creating an account in this way is obviously not normal and its purpose is blatant, so in modern times, it comes with many restrictions.
But this was 1832.
It was an era where the idea of creating a fraudulent account like this to hook prey was completely unimaginable.
Therefore, by simply confirming that the money was in the account and showing them a withdrawal of any amount, no matter how small, they were bound to be deceived.
Still, I was teaching him knowledge from over 100 years in the future. Isn't 150,000 pounds a reasonable tuition fee?
Since he received a thorough lesson to the very end, I had also prepared a small gift, though it's not exactly a graduation present.
Let's see. They should be arriving right about now.
Sure enough, just as Turner was slowly realizing he had been scammed out of his entire fortune and his despair began to turn to rage,
the bank's doors were thrown open, and two officers from the London Metropolitan Police entered.
"We came in response to a report. We were told a con artist named Mark Turner is here."
"Judging by the description, it seems we've come to the right place. We also have an arrest warrant issued by a magistrate."
"Wh-what are you people?! Arresting me? Who the hell are you to suddenly barge in here and spout nonsense about an arrest!"
"Denial is useless. We already have testimony from many victims, and the warrant was issued based on that. We also received an anonymous tip that you would be at this bank at this time. If you have any grievances, you can state them in court."
If he had hidden as usual and had his subordinates withdraw the money, he wouldn't have been caught, but this time, I had made that impossible by granting the authority solely to Mark Turner beforehand.
He had no right to feel wronged; he was the one who had requested it, so who could he blame?
Having lived a life of fraud for ten years, at best he would be locked up in a squalid prison until he died, or be forced into hard labor in the colonies until his body broke down.
Considering what he had done, it was an all-too-fitting punishment that didn't evoke a shred of sympathy.
"Y-you took statements from the victims and filed a complaint in advance…? Richard, you son of a bitch. You planned this from the start? What grudge could you possibly have against me!"
"The victims are waiting outside, so we need to go and have them identify you. Will you come quietly, or will you be dragged out?"
"Th-this can't be happening! It wasn't me! I… I've done nothing wrong! I was just tricked by that bastard Richard! I'm a victim too!"
"He's not making sense. Let's just drag him in for questioning."
"Let go of me! Let go, you bastards! I'm a victim too! Arrest that bastard Richard as well!"
As Turner was disgracefully dragged away, thrashing until the very end, the heavy bank doors shut firmly once more.
The bank manager, who had been watching the scene in a daze, snapped back to his senses and bowed his head repeatedly.
"My goodness! The police showing up and all this commotion. I am so sorry. Our bank is not usually this chaotic, but today…"
"Not at all, Mr. Manager. It's lively and bustling, which is nice. I'll be sure to visit often."
Leaving the still slightly bewildered bank manager, I lifted the teacup to my lips.
"The tea here is excellent. Fragrant. Perhaps it's the sweet taste in my mouth, but I can't help but laugh. Ha ha!"
"Ha ha, hahaha! I'm glad you like it, sir. Hahaha…"
As I beamed, the bank manager, without knowing why, laughed awkwardly along with me.
They say the ground hardens after the rain… no, that's not quite right, is it?
In any case, after the brief commotion, a peaceful atmosphere returned to the bank, and the cheerful laughter continued uninterrupted until the moment I rose from my seat.