Mr. Coles again tapped the papers on his desk together. “You have been greatly blessed to have such a patron. If you had not, imagine where you would be now. A farm servant perhaps, or a groom in a stable? You certainly wouldn’t have the education or the finances you have now. With five thousand in the bank, you could leave Bow Street and invest in a new business for yourself. Yes, blessed indeed.”

Yes, the lawyer might consider Daniel had several debits on that side of the ledger, but what Daniel didn’t have was love. Advantages such as an Oxford degree or a wardrobe of fine clothes or an address in a genteel part of London were no substitute for the love of a family.

Daniel dragged himself up the stairs to his rooms as the lamplighters were going about their business. What a ridiculously long day. He’d called in at Bow Street and had a quick word with Ed before tracking down Rhynwick Davies through Mr. Hoffman. The young scientist had been bewildered by the message that had been sent in his name.

The night watchman at the mill had been run to earth, and the reason for his absence was explained the moment Daniel called at his house. A harried woman with a stained apron opened the door a crack.

“He’s sleeping.”

“I must see him.”

“Won’t do you no good. He’s passed out. Got drunk as a lord last night, he did.”

“When last night? He was supposed to be on watch at the Montgomery Mill.”

“I dunno. He’s got a terrible thirst for gin, and someone left two bottles of the stuff inside the mill with his name on it. He drank most of one at the mill, then staggered home with the other. It were gone by sunup, and he’s been laid on the bed snorin’ ever since. Won’t be hisself for hours, and then he’ll be that mad and sick. I think I’ll go to Mother’s for a few days. He’s a terrible one when he’s been drinking.”

“Who knew your husband liked to drink?” Someone had baited their trap effectively.

She shrugged her narrow shoulders. “Who didn’t? Night watchman was the only job he could get, and now he won’t even have that. The magistrate said if he drank on the job again, he’d be out of work before he could draw another cork. Dunno what we’ll do now.” Her eyes were resigned, as if she’d seen too much, endured too much, to have hope any longer.

Now Daniel entered his lodgings and went straight to the bedroom. He’d like nothing more than to burrow into the bed and fall into a deep sleep, but as sore as he was, he eased down atop the coverlet fully clothed, trying to find a place to lie that wouldn’t hurt.