As the details of the man's life were laid plain, Nate nodded delibrately. He handed back the card and pencil as facts and morsels of information started to coallese into a plan. The band struck up a tune that Nate did not care to dance to, and the two of them began to walk away from the group towards the outer edges of the party on the terrace. As they walked, his line of questioning would be that the gentleman was old, frail, and thus vunerable.

No jury in the Empire would stay hardened against an old man beset by greedy family desperate for their share. Presented correctly, the sympathy would flow like water as jurors imagined their very own 'dear ol' Da' or 'Grandad' weeping in the dock. And yes, this would please Amelia... which in turn might speed her into his bed.

"That's so sad." he said.