The Spoils of Sin by Rebecca Tope

ties, as a general rule. After all, if they had wives, they would have little need for my services. Already I have been asked as to the exact nature of this establishment, and have been unable to supply them with a first-hand account. Until now,’ he smiled.
    Fanny watched him closely. It was a novelty to have a man stand there so easy and undemanding, speaking as if to two ordinary townsfolk, with business to conduct. Her quick mind was already calculating what this business might comprise. Carola, at her side, was holding the bag of candles and shifting restlessly from foot to foot. ‘Until now,’ she repeated, with a low chuckle.
    Eli Canelli looked her full in the face. ‘You mistake me, young lady,’ he said. ‘I mean nothing more than that I have finally laid eyes on your boudoir, in all its luxuriant reality.’
    â€˜Your gentlemen,’ Fanny prompted him.
    â€˜Many of them would be eager to make your acquaintance,’ he went on. ‘With a little reassurance from me, and some advice on costs and so forth, they would be more inclined to venture through your door. I can be a …supplier, you might say. A conduit through which business might flow to you.’
    The idea had already formed itself, even before their building was completed. And yet, they had failed to capitalise on it. ‘We are guilty of an oversight,’ said Fanny. ‘We recognise how useful you might be to us. And yet, it is not apparent just how we might repay you.’ She glanced at Carola, who had adopted a mulish expression at the barber’s reprimand.
    â€˜A percentage,’ said the man without hesitation.
    â€˜Oh!’ Fanny’s mind worked even harder. ‘But how are we to know…that is, are we to ask every man whether he comes on your recommendation? And if he pays us repeated visits, would you claim payment every time?’
    â€˜It will be evident from his appearance,’ Eli Canelli said.
    â€˜I think not.’ Carola’s voice was cool. ‘If the man’s beard is trimmed before noon, and his hair washed, he will have them mussed by sundown, when he pays his call on us.’
    â€˜Ah,’ said the barber, and Fanny understood that his wits were not of the quickest sort.
    â€˜You do not fancy payment in kind, then?’ she asked directly. ‘Perhaps a weekly visit, free of charge?’
    Canelli cleared his throat. ‘I have a wife,’ he said thickly. ‘It was she who fashioned the candles. It is a skill she learned from her family.’
    â€˜A wife?’ Fanny frowned. ‘How is it that we have never seen her?’ She scanned her memory for any instance of a woman emerging from the barber shop.
    â€˜We have a small home, just to the south, with orchards and honeybees,’ he explained. ‘My wife suffered a small accident on our voyage here, and is uneasy about appearing in society.’ He lifted his chin determinedly. ‘And I have no wish to betray her in any way. She knows I have come here and she is unworried by it. Her absolute trust is all I require to avoid temptation.’ He looked from one face to the other. ‘Comely young ladies as you are,’ he finished gallantly.
    â€˜What percentage were you hoping for?’ Fanny pressed him. ‘Assuming we can arrive at a system whereby we recognise which men come at your bidding.’
    â€˜Ten per cent,’ he replied promptly, his eye falling on their notice of the price. ‘That would be fifty cents for every man.’
    â€˜You must provide him with a token, then,’ said Fanny, feeling proud of this piece of inventiveness. ‘A special coin or pin that he hands to us on arrival, and which cannot be used again. At the conclusion of each week, we count the tokens and pay you fifty cents for each one. That way, we will be sure it is a direct introduction from you that brings him here.’
    â€˜That is a clever idea,’ Canelli