"Yes and no, my lord. I have made a little money, but I've put most of it back in the business. So I haven't more cash than I need for day-to-day expenses."
"Too bad," said Honorius. "It looks as though we'd have to let the case go through."
Padway was getting more and more nervous under that penetrating scrutiny, but he put up a bold front. "Oh, my lord, I don't think you have a case. If I may say so, it would be most unfortunate for your dignity to let the case come to trial."
"So? I'm afraid my good man, that you don't know what expert interrogators we have. You'll have admitted all sorts of things by the time they finish . . . ah . . . questioning you."
"Um-m-m. My lord, I said I didn't have much cash. But I have an idea that might interest you."
"That's better. Lutetius, may I use your private office?" Without waiting for an answer, Honorius marched to the office, jerking his head to Padway to follow. The chief looked after them sourly, obviously resenting the loss of his share of the swag.
In the chief's office, Honorius turned to Padway. "You weren't proposing to bribe your governor by chance, were you?" he asked coldly.
"Well . . . uh . . . not exactly—"
The count shot his head forward. "How much?" he snapped. "And what's it in—jewels?"
Padway sighed with relief. "Please, my lord, not so fast. It'll take a bit of explaining."