“Oh, I am not the marrying kind, Weaver, and if I were I should require a woman with a massive dowry who would overlook my relative financial difficulties. You, on the other hand, are a Hebrew, and your people cannot help but marry. If you wish to hear my opinion, I think a wife would do you good.”
“Perhaps,” I said, “I should ask Mr. Cobb to send you to debtor’s prison now.”
“Those who speak the truth must face the brickbats of resentment.”
“Yes, and your lot in life is to suffer. May I suggest we confine our time to discussing the meaning of the French involvement?”
He let out a sigh. “Very well. I have never heard of the French sending agents to work against the great companies, but it does not surprise me that they would think to do so. After all, these companies produce prodigious wealth for the nation, and the East India Company is also an arm of exploration and expansions. There could be any number of reasons why the French should wish to infiltrate Craven House.”
That, unfortunately constituted the extent of Elias’s analysis. By this time I had finished my pot and thought it advisable to return to the East India yard, lest my absence be noted. I did not think any great harm would come of such an observation, but it served my interests well enough that I should draw no attention to myself.
I came in through the main gate, therefore, and proceeded to the warehouses, but I had not advanced more than a few feet before I heard my name called quite briskly.
“Mr. Weaver, pray you stop.”
I turned to find Carmichael chasing after me. He ran forward, holding his straw hat to his head. “What is it?”
“Mr. Ellershaw come down here not half an hour past. He appeared most grieved that no one knew how to find you.”
I nodded and headed back toward the main house and proceeded directly toward Ellershaw’s office. He called for me to enter when I knocked, and when I stepped in, I found Mr. Forester sitting across the desk from him, several samples of cloth draped across the desk. Neither man, I soon observed, appeared happy to see me.
“Weaver.” Ellershaw spat out some of the brown kernel on which he chewed. “Where have you been? Do I pay you for your leisure time or for your labors?”
“I’m sorry to have missed you,” I said. “I was about an inspection of the warehouses when you called upon me.”
“If you were inspecting the warehouses, how is it that no one knew of your whereabouts?”
“Because I did not wish for them to know. Inspections are most effective when they are a surprise to those inspected.”
Ellershaw pondered this suggestion for a moment and then nodded slowly while he worked at the mass in his mouth. “Just so.”
Forester held in his hand a piece of blue fabric, which he studied most attentively. Indeed, he tried most assiduously to keep his eyes from wandering from the cloth. I suspected he did not trust himself to contain his expression should our eyes meet, and I thought that a useful detail. Forester believed himself unskilled at dissimulation.
“What is it you want?” Ellershaw now inquired of me.
“I only wanted to attend to you, as you called upon me, sir,” I said.
“I haven’t the time for you now,” he answered. “Can you not see that we are busy with things that are none of your concern? Is that not your opinion, Forester?”
Forester continued to cast his eyes downward. “It is. A man of his sort can have nothing to add to our discussion.”
“I say,” Ellershaw blurted out, “that is rather a harsh assessment. Weaver may not be a Company man, but he’s a sharp fellow. Do you think you have something to say to us, Weaver?”
“I do not know what you discuss,” I said.
“Nothing of interest to you,” Forester murmured.
“Only these cloths. What you see before you, Weaver, are the fabrics the Parliament, may it rot in hell, will permit us to sell domestically after Christmas. As you see, it is devilish little. Most of our trade on these islands will now be in these blues”-he held up a piece of light blue cotton-“and I fear what trade we do with it will be a mere shadow of our former enterprise.”
I said nothing.
“As you can see,” Forester said, “he has neither the experience nor interest for these matters. I mean no insult to the fellow, but he is not a man whose opinion you must solicit.”
“What is the cloth used for now?” I asked.
“Scarves,” Ellershaw said. “Stockings, cravats, other such accessories, and, of course, dresses for the ladies.”
“Then would it not be wise,” I suggested, “to encourage men of fashion to mold their suits out of this material?”
Forester let out a loud laugh. “A suit, you say? Even the most absurd of fops would not wear a suit of so feminine a color. The very idea is laughable.”
“Perhaps so,” I said with a shrug, “but Mr. Ellershaw has observed that the key to success is to allow the warehouses to drive fashion and not fashion the warehouses. You may sell as much of this material as you wish, so ought not the Company work to change the public’s perception rather than mold your product to their perceptions? As I have been made to understand it, you need only provide suits of this color to enough fashionable gentlemen in order for it to seem absurd no longer. Indeed, if you succeed, by next season no one will remember a time when suits of this shade of blue were unpopular.”
“Nonsense,” Forester said.
“No.” Ellershaw let out a breath. “He is right. This is the very thing. Begin to send notes to your associates in the world of fashion. Make appointments to have a tailor pay them a visit.”
“Sir, this is but the squandering of time and effort,” Forester answered. “No one will wear a suit of so foolish a color.”
“The world will wear these suits,” he answered. “Well done, Weaver. With only two weeks left before the Court meets, I may yet preserve myself. Now, back to your appointed tasks. I shall have more to say to you anon.”
I bowed to both men and departed, certain from the look on Forester’s face that I had done nothing more than fan the flames of the hatred for which he bore me.
THAT NIGHT, AT THE APPOINTED time, Carmichael met me behind the main warehouse. The sky was unusually dark-cloudy and moonless with the occasional fluttering touch of snow-and though the grounds were well lit, there were ample swaths of shadow in which to make our silent way. The dogs, by now, knew my scent and would not remark upon it, and we knew well the times of patrols and the routes the watchmen would take, so it was no difficult thing to move unseen in the cold darkness.
Carmichael took me toward the northernmost edge of the East India yards, where stood the building called the Greene House. It was four stories in height, but narrow, and in none the best shape. I had heard tell that it was scheduled to be brought down some time in the next year.
The door was naturally locked, as the watchmen could not be entrusted with access to the interior, not when they would be tempted to help themselves to whatever they could find inside. But as master watchman I was granted full access, and after waiting for one of the patrolling men, who had the staggering gait of one who’d been drinking too much small beer while at work, we made our way inside.
I had taken the precaution of hiding candles and tinder where I knew I would be able to retrieve them, after which, in the dark and echoing space, I turned to Carmichael ’s flickering face.
“Where to?”
“Up,” he said. “It’s on the top floor, which has fallen into disuse because it’s such horrible bad trouble to carry crates to and fro. And the stairs ain’t great, so we’ll have to be right careful. Also, stay away from the window with that light of yours. You don’t want anyone to see. No telling who is Aadil’s fellow and who ain’t.”