“That explained the water in the holds, too. Once the Lucella was financed, you could tell the world and be damned, as far as he cared. He started underbidding you—considerably—and you got Mattingly to bribe one of the sailors to put water in her holds. So she lost the load, and in a rather expensive way.”

Grafalk wasn’t so relaxed now. He drew his legs up and crossed them. “How’d you know that?” he asked sharply.

“Boom Boom saw Mattingly there. He wrote Pierre Bouchard that he’d seen Mattingly under odd circumstances. I thought it must have been up here on the Brynulf, but Paige told me Mattingly didn’t go on that expedition. The only other really odd place for my cousin to have seen him was down at the Port. It bothered Boom Boom enough to try to get Bouchard to trace Mattingly, and he wouldn’t have done that for something trivial … But what I really want to know, Niels, is how long Grafalk Steamship has been losing money?”

He got up with a sudden movement that knocked his brandy glass over. “Who told you that?”

“Niels, you’re like an elephant on a rampage. You’re leaving a trail of broken trees behind you and you think no one else can see them. You didn’t have to tell me Grafalk Steamship was the only thing you really cared about. It was obvious the first day I met you. Then your fury with Bledsoe for deserting you was totally irrational. People leave jobs every day for new jobs or to set up their own businesses. I could see you might feel hurt if you gave Bledsoe his big chance. But, my God! You acted like King Richard when one of his barons broke the oath of fealty. Bledsoe didn’t work for Grafalk Steamship—he worked for you. It was a personal betrayal when he left you.”

Grafalk sat down again. He picked up his glass and poured some more Armagnac; his hand wasn’t quite steady.

“Now you’re a relatively smart man, and you don’t need money. Not personally. There wasn’t any reason for you to get sucked up in Clayton’s scheme for your personal gain. But there was if your steamship company needed help.

“My first day down at the Port I heard your new dispatcher on the phone trying to get orders. He just couldn’t get his bids down low enough. You’re operating this antiquated fleet. When the Leif Ericsson ran into the wharf, Martin Bledsoe asked if that was how you were planning on getting rid of your old ships. That was when you needled him about his prison background. He reacted violently, and everyone’s attention was diverted. But you did need to get rid of your old ships. Martin hadn’t been able to persuade you to build the thousand-footers, and you were stuck with these unprofitable clunkers.”