The Cogspeare Conspiracy (The Cogspeare Chronicles Book 1) Read Online Free Page B

“A writ of certiorari ? But that’s only used by the House of Lords when they demand a case be brought to them, and always in the case of a peer on trial. Usually this sort of thing would be heard by a judge in the Exchequer.”
                  “Usually it would be, but for the fact that it seems the miners are pursuing this case as a criminal, and not a civil case. And since the head of the company is a peer, and all criminal trials of peers are held in the House, it will be there.”
                  “But this is totally irregular! They have no hope of winning; they’ll be decimated!”
                  “Indeed. Great sport.” Magnus disagreed that it would be sporting, but kept that to himself. “And Magnus, when you register at the House, submit and get a countersuit filed as well.”
                  “Sir, why would you want to do that?” Grimsby slammed his fist down.
                  “Because, once you defeat those little shits, it will mean that not only have the miners lost their criminal action suit, but also that they are convicted under this countersuit of damaging the profits and reputation of the SWSMC, and will be penalized for it.”
                  Magnus felt a twinge of doubt run down his neck. After all, countersuits were rare, and often didn’t pass. But in this case, since it was a sure thing that the prosecution would lose, it would be a sure thing that the countersuit would win and the miners would be held accountable.
                  “But these miners probably have very little anyway, so why bother?”
                  “It’s the principle, my boy, the principle. And we need to set a precedent that states the SWSMC should not be trifled with. Do you understand?” The last words were so full of sharp menace that Magnus could almost not believe it was his mentor, the closest he had currently to a friend, who was saying this. Almost.
                  “Yes, sir. I understand perfectly.”
                  “Good. Now, have a good evening and good luck. I’ll be watching from the gallery, of course.” Magnus got up and turned to leave, but was called back by Grimsby’s parting words.
                  “You should know, Magnus that you will be under no little scrutiny in the House. Your eloquence will, shall we say, have a large bearing on any future interactions with our esteemed and ennobled colleagues.” Magnus gave another nod of understanding and quickly left.
                  The palms of his hands were soaking wet, and he twisted a black silk handkerchief in them as he went to his steamer. There he sat for a moment, torn between excitement and an unusual case of nerves. Magnus never got nervous about cases. In fact, it was in the courtroom when he really thrived, speaking more eloquently than most professional political orators and thinking on his feet, countering the opposing arguments with bits of brilliant and obscure law. He had only asked his secretary twice in his entire career for case citations. Once was during his first trial, the other was when he had the flu. Both times he remembered the citation before Addison could recover from the shock.
                  Magnus took a deep breath and started his conveyance, driving through the London traffic single-mindedly, and into the heart of Mayfair.
    After the boom of industrialization hit England, and indeed much of Europe, in the early 1810s with a steam powered bang, many of the newly enriched middle class went in search of proper homes. And many entrepreneurs obliged them by building small developments, which they termed ‘squares’. One such entrepreneur, Kevin Tungsten (who was later ennobled for his contributions to public building and residential hygiene) built a lovely square in the north of Mayfair. He filled it with ten beautiful, white townhouses to each side