Page 14 of A Treacherous Trade
Mary Jean, my housekeeper—for lack of a better term—had been coordinating with him when a job would land at my door. This was much to their mutual frustration, I’d gathered, but I’d been too caught up in Aidan’s loss to much care.
I’d need to make certain they were both compensated, for keeping my business alive without me.
Drenched in shame, I realized that without this profession, Hao Long—a once widower and father with a lovely if alarmingly fertile second wife—would be out of a job. It wasn’t well done of me to lose myself in the death of a beloved, and endanger the livelihood of all those who depended upon me for survival.
“It won’t happen again,” I promised.
His response was an extra shooing gesture, but one of the swats on my elbow might have been a pat of consolation. That was how I determined to interpret it, at least.
A dazed Amelia and I wound our way back down the stairs toward the parlor, where we found a fuming Beatrice Chamberlain pacing in front of the fire.
“I see you and the detective inspector are still at odds,” Amelia said, going to the sideboard and retrieving a crystal decanter. Holding it up, she silently offered the amber-colored liquid within to both of us.
Beatrice accepted. I declined. I almost never drank. Especially at work.
“Orson Davies is little better than a stain on humankind,” the flinty-eyed madam spat. “His father should have spilled him on his mother’s back and wiped him away with a towel to discard in the laundry.”
“Goodness, Bea, descriptive as ever, I see.” Amelia paused in her pouring to cast a nervous glance in my direction, no doubt to gauge a reaction.
I pressed both my lips between my teeth, suppressing my second inappropriate giggle of the day.
“Where are the other girls?” Amelia asked. “Are they being questioned?”
Beatrice accepted her drink with a sad but grateful smile and squeezed Amelia’s hand. “I told them all to stay home today. They shouldn’t be privy to… No one should have to see a friend—done like this.”
“That was kind,” I said, then I had a thought as I checked the watch affixed to my own bodice. “Did Jane live here, Mrs. Chamberlain? Or had she stayed very late?”
“Neither,” the older woman answered. “She came in very early, before we open for business at eleven. It was poor Bess who found her.”
“The cleaning woman?” Amelia asked at the same time I said, “In themorning?”
Amelia didn’t seem inclined to comment further, so I finished my thought. Sort of. “Eleven seems awfully early to… well, to… pay for…”
Amelia and Beatrice shared a look at my expense before the bawd drained her liquor and stood to refill her glass. “As you’ve noticed, we’re situated in a rather hectic business district. The men here are not like dock or factory workers, using their bodies until they give out. They don’t have foremen keeping their nose to the grindstones, as it were. You’d be surprised how many men who work office jobs pay for a bit of slap-and-tickle during their lunchtime or before they go home to their wives.”
“Of course,” I said, because I couldn’t think of any appropriate reply to that bit of information. “So, do you have other employees who reside here full-time?”
Beatrice shook her head. “My rooms are not generally used for sleeping. There are occasions my girls are engaged for an entire night, or perhaps multiple nights. And there are men who like the homemaker treatment, feeling for a few days like they’ve a wife to come home to. In those cases, I’m happy to oblige. However, most of my girls aren’t tied to one bed, no pun intended. Part of the fun is that a customer can select a womananda place in which to enjoy her. As you may have noticed, the rooms are themed.”
Ihadnoticed, and was still uncertain how I felt about it.
“My poor girls… I worry that they’ll never feel safe again,” she said. “I pride myself on how protected The Orchard is for those who work here. I employ security. I don’t allow mistreatment, or violence, or even job dissatisfaction. There are so many men who would take what we are selling, or force more than is sold… I am strict about the discipline of those men. Those criminals.”
“Any men recently giving Jane or this… Alys any trouble?” I queried.
“None that I can remember, but I’d have to check with my security, as I’m not always informed of every incident.”
I found it odd that was the case, as I knew the Hammer had an establishment twice as large, and no one seemed to take a breath within shooting distance of The Velvet Glove without him knowing about it.
I wisely decided not to press the issue and instead asked, “So… did Jane have an early shift?”
Beatrice stalled, then swallowed as she paled. “No. No, Jane wasn’t due in until this evening. I don’t know what the devil she was doing here.”
“Did she have a key?” Amelia asked.
“No.”
“Then she either came in early or stayed late… Or I suppose she might have—” I swallowed my next conjecture until both women speared me with glares of demand.
