Read Online A Conspiracy of Paper by David Liss - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: David Liss
Tags: Fiction, Historical fiction, General, Suspense, Historical, Mystery & Detective, Private Investigators, Detective and Mystery Stories, Jewish, London (England), Jews, Private investigators - England - London, Capitalists and Financiers, London (England) - History - 18th century, Stock exchanges, Jews - England
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amour.”
“I understand,” I said after a moment, wanting to fill in the silence but feeling foolish for having said anything at all. Sir Owen would hardly be the first fashionable gentleman in London to have clapped his own wife. I shall not understand why so many men refuse to take the trouble of procuring the armor of sheep intestines to guard against Cupid’s most pernicious arrows.
“I had always responded so well to the treatments the surgeons offered, but the disease proved too much for Anne’s delicate constitution. Perhaps because she knew not what she had and waited too long to seek help.”
I had no skills to find the right words and I could only wait for him to continue.
“I fully intend to reform my behavior once married to Sarah,” Sir Owen continued. He sniffled a little and I thought I saw something vaguely tearlike in his eye. “I am a changed man. The papers that are missing testify to that. It is a series of letters, Mr. Weaver, between me and my dear, lost Anne, in which I express in damningly unambiguous terms the nature of my transgression and a spirited and sentimental desire to reform. A reader of these letters would quickly discern the nature of her disease and the nature of its contraction. I have tried very hard to conceal this information from Sarah, who is a virtuous young woman of exceptional delicacy. Should she learn of the contents of these letters, I fear she would sever our connection. And if some unscrupulous villain were to learn of the contents, he would have me at a terrifying disadvantage.” He poured himself another dram of the Scottish liquor. “I can only hope the letters remain sealed. I kept them about me wrapped in a yellow ribbon, with a wax seal bearing the imprint of a cracked shilling. A broken seal I should see as the worst news in the world.” He lifted the glass and swallowed hard.
“I cannot risk these letters falling in with a man like Wild. He should rake me over the coals before returning to me what is mine. But your reputation precedes you, sir. I believe you to be the only man in London who has both the knowledge and the integrity to retrieve what I have lost.”
I bowed at Sir Owen. “As it is a matter of delicacy, you are certainly right to come to me rather than to have gone to Wild.”
“You see why I am very much in your power.”
“As I am in yours,” I returned. “For you know of my involvement in a man’s death. We are thus beholden to each other, and neither man may fear the indiscretion of the other.”
He brightened considerably at this observation, and I must confess that I was no longer horrified that the matter was not yet concluded. I even felt somewhat relieved. Had I returned the pocketbook and its contents been intact, then the matter would have been resolved. I would have had to wait to learn if there would be any consequences of Jemmy’s death. Sir Owen’s missing letters gave me license to involve myself in the matter once more. I could not say if this involvement would prove to my benefit, but by taking action I would feel less powerless.
“I shall begin my search for these letters immediately,” I told Sir Owen, “and this search shall be my first priority until they are recovered. If I have any news, sir, any news at all, I shall not hesitate to send it to you.”
Sir Owen rolled the glass between his hands. “Thank you, Weaver. I flatter myself that I shall see my letters soon. You do understand, sir, that if you must ask questions of any of these scoundrels, you should make no reference to what these papers contain.”
“Of course.”
“My happiness, you see, is in your hands.” He turned to my window and stared outward. “Sarah is such a lovely woman. So very delicate.”
“I am sure you are a most fortunate man.” My words sounded to me hollow platitudes.
After making certain there was nothing else of use Sir Owen could tell me, I showed him out and began to formulate a plan of action. I decided
“I understand,” I said after a moment, wanting to fill in the silence but feeling foolish for having said anything at all. Sir Owen would hardly be the first fashionable gentleman in London to have clapped his own wife. I shall not understand why so many men refuse to take the trouble of procuring the armor of sheep intestines to guard against Cupid’s most pernicious arrows.
“I had always responded so well to the treatments the surgeons offered, but the disease proved too much for Anne’s delicate constitution. Perhaps because she knew not what she had and waited too long to seek help.”
I had no skills to find the right words and I could only wait for him to continue.
“I fully intend to reform my behavior once married to Sarah,” Sir Owen continued. He sniffled a little and I thought I saw something vaguely tearlike in his eye. “I am a changed man. The papers that are missing testify to that. It is a series of letters, Mr. Weaver, between me and my dear, lost Anne, in which I express in damningly unambiguous terms the nature of my transgression and a spirited and sentimental desire to reform. A reader of these letters would quickly discern the nature of her disease and the nature of its contraction. I have tried very hard to conceal this information from Sarah, who is a virtuous young woman of exceptional delicacy. Should she learn of the contents of these letters, I fear she would sever our connection. And if some unscrupulous villain were to learn of the contents, he would have me at a terrifying disadvantage.” He poured himself another dram of the Scottish liquor. “I can only hope the letters remain sealed. I kept them about me wrapped in a yellow ribbon, with a wax seal bearing the imprint of a cracked shilling. A broken seal I should see as the worst news in the world.” He lifted the glass and swallowed hard.
“I cannot risk these letters falling in with a man like Wild. He should rake me over the coals before returning to me what is mine. But your reputation precedes you, sir. I believe you to be the only man in London who has both the knowledge and the integrity to retrieve what I have lost.”
I bowed at Sir Owen. “As it is a matter of delicacy, you are certainly right to come to me rather than to have gone to Wild.”
“You see why I am very much in your power.”
“As I am in yours,” I returned. “For you know of my involvement in a man’s death. We are thus beholden to each other, and neither man may fear the indiscretion of the other.”
He brightened considerably at this observation, and I must confess that I was no longer horrified that the matter was not yet concluded. I even felt somewhat relieved. Had I returned the pocketbook and its contents been intact, then the matter would have been resolved. I would have had to wait to learn if there would be any consequences of Jemmy’s death. Sir Owen’s missing letters gave me license to involve myself in the matter once more. I could not say if this involvement would prove to my benefit, but by taking action I would feel less powerless.
“I shall begin my search for these letters immediately,” I told Sir Owen, “and this search shall be my first priority until they are recovered. If I have any news, sir, any news at all, I shall not hesitate to send it to you.”
Sir Owen rolled the glass between his hands. “Thank you, Weaver. I flatter myself that I shall see my letters soon. You do understand, sir, that if you must ask questions of any of these scoundrels, you should make no reference to what these papers contain.”
“Of course.”
“My happiness, you see, is in your hands.” He turned to my window and stared outward. “Sarah is such a lovely woman. So very delicate.”
“I am sure you are a most fortunate man.” My words sounded to me hollow platitudes.
After making certain there was nothing else of use Sir Owen could tell me, I showed him out and began to formulate a plan of action. I decided
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