Just as Killian had predicted, when James visited Turner the following day, he received exactly the answer he expected.
"We accept the proposal you made yesterday," Turner said. "The terms are still the same, I assume?"
"Of course," James replied easily. "But you look rather tired. Did you spend the whole night working?"
"I have a habit of being thorough when it comes to business," Turner said with a thin smile. "If that inconvenienced you, I apologize."
So they had stayed up all night digging through the ledgers, looking for anything suspicious.
And still found nothing.
Which meant their deception had worked perfectly.
"Business should always be thorough," James laughed. "At this rate, you'll be earning far greater sums in the future."
"Thank you for the kind words. And I hope that when you rise even higher, Mr. Twain, you'll remember us."
"Of course. Just make sure you remember me as well."
Two smiles met across the table.
Each man hiding intentions that pointed in completely opposite directions.
They exchanged the contracts.
"Then the terms remain exactly as discussed yesterday," James said. "Do you have anything to add or ask?"
"No. Everything is satisfactory."
"In that case, here is the bank certificate verifying the account holding the £150,000 collateral. Though we should clarify one thing."
James tapped the document.
"In the unlikely event that something happens, who should be authorized to withdraw the funds? You? Or your company as a whole?"
Turner's eyes flicked across his subordinates.
They had worked together for years.
But in front of £150,000, such loyalty was worth less than dust.
He did not hesitate even a second before writing his own name on the document.
"I believe it's sufficient for me alone to hold the authority. Of course, I trust that such circumstances will never arise."
"So do I," James said lightly. "Still, contracts should always be thorough."
He nodded toward the paper.
"Now then—how will we receive your £150,000?"
"I'll prepare the bills of exchange immediately," Turner replied. "However, we use five different banks, so I'm afraid you'll need to make several collections."
"A diversified banking strategy, hm? You really are careful."
In reality, they used multiple banks because they had to change institutions every time they created a new fraudulent company.
But Turner only scratched his head awkwardly at the praise.
An hour later, the paperwork was complete.
James accepted the bundle of bills Turner handed him.
"I'll send updates on the project once a week," he said. "You can wait comfortably."
"Of course. We'll look forward to the progress."
Even at the very end, Turner still believed a vast fortune was about to fall into his hands.
Greed truly had a remarkable ability to blind people.
With the massive sum—earned from the blood and tears of countless victims—now in his possession, James turned his back on the foolish prey he would never see again.
* * *
A suspicious man takes a long time to make a decision.
But once he decides, it takes even longer for him to admit he might have been wrong.
Mark Turner was no exception.
For the first week, updates arrived exactly as promised.
Reports on the project's progress.
Documents.
Correspondence.
Then the second week passed.
No message arrived.
At first, Turner dismissed it as a trivial delay.
"Those newly rich fools never have proper discipline," he scoffed. "They talk a good game but can't run a business properly."
"Exactly," one of his men agreed.
After all, Turner still held the certificate for the £150,000 collateral account.
And the bank had confirmed that no one except Mark Turner himself could withdraw the funds before the agreed date.
The certificate was genuine.
There was nothing to worry about.
But when a third week passed with no word, unease began creeping into his mind.
"Boss… shouldn't we check on things?" one employee suggested.
"Fine. If we hear nothing by tonight, we'll investigate tomorrow."
"Do you think something went wrong with the contract?"
"If it did, they should have told us. What kind of business is run like this?"
At last Turner lost patience and sent his men to investigate.
They soon returned in panic.
"B-Boss! Something's wrong! The London office of the Twain Company—it's gone!"
"What?! Gone?"
"I don't understand either! It was operating normally just last week!"
"Maybe they just left temporarily."
For a moment, Turner considered the possibility that he had been scammed.
But logically it made no sense.
Even if they fled with his £150,000, he still held their £150,000 collateral account.
At worst, it would be a zero-sum outcome.
Unless the certificate itself was fake—but the bank had confirmed it was genuine.
No matter how he looked at it, he could not lose.
"I don't understand," Turner muttered. "Look into it again. Even if they were scammers, they wouldn't do it like this."
Yet further investigation revealed the same result.
The Twain Company had vanished completely.
The progress reports they had sent turned out to be fabricated.
Realizing something was terribly wrong, Turner grabbed the bank certificate and rushed out the door.
Normally he avoided going outside personally.
But this time was different.
Only he had the authority to withdraw the money.
If he could retrieve the £150,000 collateral, he would escape the situation without loss.
Yet even as he ran toward the bank, he still couldn't understand what Richard Twain's true intention had been.
* * *
Killian sat comfortably in the bank's reception room, sipping tea.
James had informed him that Turner had left his office.
He should arrive soon.
"Is there something you're looking for, sir?" the bank manager asked politely.
"Oh, nothing in particular," Killian replied casually. "I simply wanted to see whether there were any attractive investment opportunities."
"Any client connected to the Earl of Arran's household deserves our utmost hospitality," the manager said eagerly. "Our bank is quite reputable."
"Ah, I see…"
Killian was about to respond when—
The doors burst open.
A middle-aged man ran inside, gasping for breath.
Killian immediately recognized him.
Mark Turner.
"I—I need to withdraw money," Turner shouted at the clerk. "Check the account… please check it!"
"Of course, sir."
"Has anyone withdrawn money from this account in the past two weeks?"
"Please wait a moment."
Because every record was written by hand, verifying the account took time.
To Turner, those few moments must have felt like eternity.
Finally the clerk returned.
"Thank you for waiting. There have been no withdrawals in the past two weeks. The only transaction was when Mr. Richard Twain withdrew ten pounds earlier."
"Oh thank heavens!"
Relief flooded Turner's voice.
"Then withdraw everything. Immediately."
"That can be arranged."
The clerk gave him a strange look.
But Turner was too distracted to notice.
"Then hurry!"
"Yes, sir. We will withdraw the entire available balance."
He paused.
"That would be five pounds."
Turner froze.
"…What?"
"Five pounds."
"What nonsense is this?!"
Turner's shout echoed across the bank.
Even the manager glanced nervously toward the commotion.
Killian merely smiled and sipped his tea.
"It sounds interesting," he said calmly. "Let's see what happens."
Outside, the clerk continued speaking patiently.
"It's not nonsense, sir. The amount available for withdrawal is five pounds."
"There are £150,005 in that account!" Turner roared. "If you have eyes, read it properly!"
"That is correct," the clerk replied calmly. "However, only five pounds can currently be withdrawn."
"Why?! I have the authority!"
The clerk answered calmly.
"The £150,000 in this account was pledged by Mr. Richard Twain as collateral for a loan of the same amount from this bank."
Turner blinked.
"…What?"
"Mr. Twain borrowed £150,000 and secured the loan with this account."
Turner fell silent.
Of course.
No bank would lend £150,000 without security.
But if someone deposited £150,000 and used it as collateral…
Why wouldn't the bank issue the loan?
From the bank's perspective, no money had actually left the system.
They even collected interest.
Finally Turner whispered in disbelief.
"So… from the beginning… that bastard gave me an account already pledged to the bank… and called it collateral?"
Exactly.
The account Killian created had always been a trap.
The moment Turner accepted it, he was already caught.
Just as Killian had planned.
And right on cue—
The bank doors burst open again.
Two policemen from the Metropolitan Police entered.
"We received a report that a swindler named Mark Turner would be here."
"And we have a warrant for his arrest."
Turner stared in disbelief.
"W-what?! Arrest me?!"
"Several victims have already given testimony," the officer said calmly. "If you have complaints, present them in court."
Turner struggled violently as they seized him.
"I'm innocent! I was tricked too! Richard Twain—arrest him too!"
But the police dragged him away.
The heavy bank doors closed again.
Silence returned.
The bank manager bowed repeatedly.
"My apologies for that disturbance."
Killian raised his teacup with a smile.
"No trouble at all."
He inhaled the aroma.
"This tea is excellent. Sweet, even."
He chuckled softly.
"No wonder it makes one feel cheerful."
The manager laughed awkwardly along.
And inside the bank, calm and pleasant laughter continued until the moment Killian finally rose to leave.