Old Hume was now almost splitting his sides trying to control his laughter. “This is priceless. It’s exactly what we’re doing, but now old Amested will be certain we’re lying to him and be trying to figure out what it is we’re really up to.”
The waiter was given the note and instructed to carry it back to the sender of the earlier note. A few minutes later, Duncan and Dash appeared, carrying the chest of gold. They required the help of two waiters and Lender stood up at once, saying, “We’d better get that treasure to a countinghouse before raiders come looking for us.”
The gold was deposited and accounted, and a letter of credit in the amount of twenty-one thousand golden sovereigns was provided to Roo, who turned it over to Lender. Then they returned to the coffee house.
Over the course of the day, notes would appear and Masterson would read them, comment on them, and occasionally write a reply. Once in a while he would simply say, “No,” and hand the note back to the waiter.
At the end of the day, he stood and said, “This has been a good start, gentlemen. I shall see you tomorrow.”
Roo rose and discovered that Dash and Duncan had spent the entire day downstairs, waiting for him. He cursed himself for a fool. His own anxiety over this investment had completely occupied his mind and made him forget he had a freight business to conduct.
“Head back to the office and tell Jason I’m on my way,” he said to Dash. When the young nobleman was gone, Roo said to Duncan, “Why don’t you go looking for a nice pair of rooms for you and Luis. Our accounts are settled and I can pay to get you into more comfortable quarters at once.”
Duncan grinned. “About time.” Then he said, “If we’re to be spending time with people of quality, cousin, we need to do something about our wardrobes.”
Suddenly Roo felt shabby for the first time in his life. He said, “In the morning.”
As Duncan ran off, Roo looked around Barret’s, drinking in the fact that he was now an investor. As he made to leave, a voice sounded out of the shadows of a table back under the overhang. “Mr. Avery, a word with you, sir.”
Avery recognized the voice of Jacob Estherbrook and moved toward the table. At the table he saw two figures, and his pulse began to race as he recognized the other man as Tim Jacoby.
Jacoby looked at Roo and said nothing as Estherbrook said, “I believe you know my business associate, Mr. Jacoby?”
Roo said, “We’ve met.”
Estherbrook said, “I hope that in the future you gentlemen will put aside your differences.” He made no pretense of not knowing there was bad blond between Roo and Tim. “It would be my most sincere wish to see such differences vanish in the future.”
Jacoby stood and looked at Roo, saying nothing to him. To Estherbrook he said, “I’ll pay my respects tomorrow, Jacob.”
After he left, Estherbrook said, “Sit down, please.”
Roo did, and after signaling for some more coffee, Estherbrook said, “Mr. Jacoby’s father and I are old business associates, and more, friends. Frederick and I started out together, here in Krondor. We began as teamsters.”
Roo said, “My father was a teamster.”
For the first time since Roo met the man, Jacob Estherbrook looked at him with genuine interest. He asked, “Is that so?”
Roo nodded.
“Can you drive a team, Mr. Avery?”
Roo smiled and said, “I can drive a team, Mr. Estherbrook. Six horses without breaking a sweat, eight if I keep my mind on things.”
The man laughed, a genuine sound of amusement and perhaps even with a hint of affection. “A teamster. Imagine that.” He sighed. “Perhaps that’s why my daughter finds you so interesting.”
At mention of Estherbrook’s daughter, Roo found his heart pounding. He forced himself to remain as calm as possible. “Oh?” he said, trying to sound only mildly interested.
“Sylvia is a . . . difficult child,” said Estherbrook. “A young woman with a mind of her own. I have little understanding of what captures her fancy. Which brings me to my reason for asking you to join me. She requests you join us for supper at the end of this week. Will you?”
Roo didn’t hesitate. “Certainly.”
“Good,” said Estherbrook, sipping his coffee. “Then we can discuss what we shall do if you find you must kill Mr. Jacoby.”
Roo felt as if a cold bucket of water had been thrown on him. Calmly he said, “Oh, I shall someday kill him, have no doubt. He murdered my partner.”