felony.”
“How are we supposed to get information from these ship owners?”
“Ask them for it,” Rem returned calmly.
“We can’t do that, Gresham.” Harris came to his feet. “No matter how discreet we are. We’d need to see their records in order to learn anything. What reason would we give for barging in and demanding to do so?”
“You wouldn’t need a reason.”
“What the hell does that mean? Even your name is not powerful enough to gain us access—”
“My name is not to be used.” Rem’s voice cut through Harris’s tirade like a lethal sword. “Ever. Under any circumstances.” He leaned forward, all coiled fury and suppressed strength. “Just as it never has been … and as it never will be. Right, Harris?”
Harris sank back into his seat. “Of course, Gresham. I was merely making a point.”
“Your point is justified.” Rem eased back, tossing off his gin. “But as I said, you won’t need to fabricate a reason. The magistrate will provide you with a legitimate one.”
“What?” Both Harris and Templar gaped.
“I’ll see to it that the Bow Street Magistrate happens upon a situation that will require his runners to investigate various companies … these companies, specifically.” Rem took a folded sheet of paper from his coat pocket.
“How?”
“You leave that to me.” Smoothing out the page, Rem continued. “Take this list. Once I provide you with the magistrate’s order, I want you to call on all these establishments in an official capacity—quickly, before they can be alerted to your forthcoming visit. Some of the names here are of merchants, others are of powerful shipping magnates. I want their records fully examined, with any unusual expenses or income duly noted. Should you discover anything out of the ordinary, report it to me at once.
“Over and above these scheduled visits, your services will be required to assist Boyd at the docks. I’ve already hired men to scrutinize the Thames, but I need trained officials to question any unorthodox-looking sailors, sea captains, or dock workers. Use whatever means of persuasion you deem necessary … and if that fails, let me know. Skeletons lurk in everyone’s closet, and I’m quite adept at finding them.” Rem flicked his ash carelessly. “So is Boyd. It’s amazing how the casual mention of an indiscretion encourages a man to talk freely, isn’t it?”
“Indeed it is.” Boyd refilled his mug.
“As always,” Rem added, “the docks are Boyd’s turf; he is completely in charge. Follow his orders unconditionally. Is that clear?”
Harris and Templar nodded.
“Did I omit anything?”
It wasn’t the Bow Street men Rem was consulting, but Boyd.
“I see no problems.”
“Good.” Rem turned back to the other men. “Any questions?”
“Only one.” Uncomfortably, Templar scuffed the tip of his boot along the wooden floor. “About payment …”
“Ah, yes, I almost forgot,” Rem interrupted. “This is a complicated dilemma that must be resolved swiftly and cleanly with a minimum of public knowledge. If—I should say when —you’ve accomplished that goal, you’ll receive twice your normal amount.”
“Twice?”
“Yes. Does that suit you?”
Templar raised his mug in satisfied tribute. “You’re a generous man, Gresham.”
“And a determined one.” Rem pushed his own drink away. “I’ll be in touch.”
“You’re leaving?” Known for his ability to remain unruffled at all costs, Boyd now looked positively startled.
“We’re finished for tonight.”
“But …”
Rem grinned. “Enjoy yourselves men.” He turned to go.
“Rem?” Boyd caught his arm, speaking in low tones so as not to be overheard. “Are you all right?”
“Of course. Why?”
“You know damned well why. It’s not like you to decline a night with a beautiful woman. Do you have other plans?” He shot Rem a look that no one but Boyd could get away with. “With Lady Samantha Barrett, for
“How are we supposed to get information from these ship owners?”
“Ask them for it,” Rem returned calmly.
“We can’t do that, Gresham.” Harris came to his feet. “No matter how discreet we are. We’d need to see their records in order to learn anything. What reason would we give for barging in and demanding to do so?”
“You wouldn’t need a reason.”
“What the hell does that mean? Even your name is not powerful enough to gain us access—”
“My name is not to be used.” Rem’s voice cut through Harris’s tirade like a lethal sword. “Ever. Under any circumstances.” He leaned forward, all coiled fury and suppressed strength. “Just as it never has been … and as it never will be. Right, Harris?”
Harris sank back into his seat. “Of course, Gresham. I was merely making a point.”
“Your point is justified.” Rem eased back, tossing off his gin. “But as I said, you won’t need to fabricate a reason. The magistrate will provide you with a legitimate one.”
“What?” Both Harris and Templar gaped.
“I’ll see to it that the Bow Street Magistrate happens upon a situation that will require his runners to investigate various companies … these companies, specifically.” Rem took a folded sheet of paper from his coat pocket.
“How?”
“You leave that to me.” Smoothing out the page, Rem continued. “Take this list. Once I provide you with the magistrate’s order, I want you to call on all these establishments in an official capacity—quickly, before they can be alerted to your forthcoming visit. Some of the names here are of merchants, others are of powerful shipping magnates. I want their records fully examined, with any unusual expenses or income duly noted. Should you discover anything out of the ordinary, report it to me at once.
“Over and above these scheduled visits, your services will be required to assist Boyd at the docks. I’ve already hired men to scrutinize the Thames, but I need trained officials to question any unorthodox-looking sailors, sea captains, or dock workers. Use whatever means of persuasion you deem necessary … and if that fails, let me know. Skeletons lurk in everyone’s closet, and I’m quite adept at finding them.” Rem flicked his ash carelessly. “So is Boyd. It’s amazing how the casual mention of an indiscretion encourages a man to talk freely, isn’t it?”
“Indeed it is.” Boyd refilled his mug.
“As always,” Rem added, “the docks are Boyd’s turf; he is completely in charge. Follow his orders unconditionally. Is that clear?”
Harris and Templar nodded.
“Did I omit anything?”
It wasn’t the Bow Street men Rem was consulting, but Boyd.
“I see no problems.”
“Good.” Rem turned back to the other men. “Any questions?”
“Only one.” Uncomfortably, Templar scuffed the tip of his boot along the wooden floor. “About payment …”
“Ah, yes, I almost forgot,” Rem interrupted. “This is a complicated dilemma that must be resolved swiftly and cleanly with a minimum of public knowledge. If—I should say when —you’ve accomplished that goal, you’ll receive twice your normal amount.”
“Twice?”
“Yes. Does that suit you?”
Templar raised his mug in satisfied tribute. “You’re a generous man, Gresham.”
“And a determined one.” Rem pushed his own drink away. “I’ll be in touch.”
“You’re leaving?” Known for his ability to remain unruffled at all costs, Boyd now looked positively startled.
“We’re finished for tonight.”
“But …”
Rem grinned. “Enjoy yourselves men.” He turned to go.
“Rem?” Boyd caught his arm, speaking in low tones so as not to be overheard. “Are you all right?”
“Of course. Why?”
“You know damned well why. It’s not like you to decline a night with a beautiful woman. Do you have other plans?” He shot Rem a look that no one but Boyd could get away with. “With Lady Samantha Barrett, for
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