Page 9 of Speculations in Sin

I switched my irritated thoughts to Daniel. He was much more lackadaisical about timekeeping than Mr. Davis, though I supposed I was being unfair. Daniel worked for a man who seemed barely human, and his days were not always his own. I should be more alarmed about what the odd Mr. Monaghan had sent Daniel off to do that had prevented him visiting.

On the other hand, James’s behavior last night had indicated that Daniel would be easy to find. Had James simply assumed so, and had something occurred to keep Daniel from coming to me?

Focusing on cooking should help take my mind from worrying about so many people, I reasoned, but thoughts niggled away in the background.

Breakfast went up without mishap, and Tess and I snatched a few minutes to enjoy the buttery toast along with some poached eggs. Then we were cleaning up and preparing for the next meal.

Out came the peppers Tess had chopped last night, along with onions and carrots. I ladled broth into a large pot to begin soup, adding all that we’d chopped. The soup burbled away, lending a fragrant warmth to the kitchen.

It began to rain, the fine, needlelike, cold rain of winter. Now, I brooded about Caleb walking along the streets in this freezing weather and hoped he was keeping his feet dry.

Lady Cynthia came to find me in the hour before luncheon, a broad smile on her face.

“Do you have time to speak to me, Mrs. Holloway?” she asked. “There’s only Auntie and me for luncheon, so no need to fuss.”

She brimmed with eagerness, so I stepped with her into thepassageway to the housekeeper’s parlor. Mrs. Redfern was above stairs, keeping her watchful eye on the maids as they swept, dusted, and cleaned, so we would be undisturbed.

“Mr. Davis still isn’t home?” Cynthia asked worriedly as we passed the butler’s pantry.

My misgivings, which I’d managed to submerge while I concentrated on cooking, resurfaced. “No.”

“Dear heavens, we really might have to send for the police.” Cynthia closed the door to the parlor after we entered. “Even if he’ll be enraged that we did.”

“Constable Greene has been informed,” I said. “He can report to his sergeant, if need be.”

“The constable is a bright boy.” Cynthia plopped onto the Belter chair. She wore a similar frock as last evening, this one in a deep maroon color. “He’ll keep his mouth closed until necessary. Maybe McAdam could also have a search round for him.”

“I sent for Dan—I mean, Mr. McAdam—last night.” I seated myself, but my gaze strayed to the cookery book I’d taken from the shelf the previous evening. A recipe had caught my eye, and I intended to copy it out. “But I have not seen him either.”

One thing I’d meant to ask Daniel was whether he could check the morgue, in case Mr. Davis lay in it. Death swirled around foggy London, especially on its coldest days, and Mr. Davis might well have met with misfortune.

I realized as the thoughts formed that I knew nothing of Mr. Davis’s family or even friends who would have to be informed of his passing.

“McAdam will turn up.” Cynthia spoke confidently. “He always does.”

“Like a bad penny,” I tried to jest. Cynthia smiled, but more to bolster my spirits than in agreement.

“I had a good chin-wag with my uncle at breakfast this morning,” Cynthia said. “Auntie decided to be a delicate lady of the house and eat in her bedchamber, so I had Uncle all to myself.”

I slipped out the notebook I always carried in my apron pocket and turned it to a clean page. I’d recently acquired a new pencil, nicely sharp, which I held at the ready.

“Very efficient,” Cynthia said approvingly. “I hope I learned something worthy of noting.” She stretched out her feet, crossing her practical lace-up boots. “I let Uncle believe that I thought of investing the small trust my grandmother left me in an international banking venture. I suggested I’d heard fine things about Daalman’s Bank. I expected him to steer me from it, given what you’ve told me, but instead he brightened and said it would be a wise place to deposit my funds.”

“Did he?” I asked in surprise. From Joanna’s concern, I’d envisioned a place of vile corruption run by sinister men.

“Indeed. I thought he’d encourage me to give my money to his stockbroking firm, but he seemed pleased I’d decided upon Daalman’s. Apparently, it is an old and respected bank, which stretches back to the days of the Hanseatic League.”

I hadn’t heard of this league, but Cynthia appeared to be impressed. “What does that mean, exactly?” I asked, pencil poised.

Cynthia laced her fingers together. “The Hanseatic League was a loose collection of bankers and merchants who traded all over the coasts of Europe—the Baltic and North Seas mostly. German and Dutch traders were particularly powerful, and a fellow called Jurgen Daalman started a bank in Amsterdam tofund merchants and take advantage of all the money floating around. Uncle is very taken with Daalman’s Bank.”

“Highly respectable, then?” I asked unhappily.

“One of the most respected institutions in the City, according to Uncle. The Daalman family can trace their ancestry back to the 1400s or so, when the bank first opened. They set up a branch in London about a hundred years later, so Dutch traders in London would have a place to quickly borrow cash or stash the mountains of money they made selling goods. The merchants’ fortunes rose and fell, but the bank always seemed to be in profit.”

“What do theydo, exactly?” I wasn’t prepared to understand high finance, but I needed at least the basic idea of this bank’s business.

“Hmm.” Cynthia pondered a moment. “Say you want to begin a business shipping cloth you churn out of your factory using the best British wool. You want to pay the people who are raising and shearing the sheep and keep running your factory of spinners and weavers. You also want to sell this wonderful wool to people all over the Continent and into Asia and the Americas—to those climates where people need woolen shirts, that is. You toddle to Daalman’s and say, ‘Hey-ho, I need to buy some ships and the crew to run them.’ They essentially buy those ships for you, and you promise them a share in your profits in return. If the ships go down, they bear the brunt, but if your business is successful, they make a nice amount from investing in you.”

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