“What precisely happened at this building site?” Daniel asked me, his voice deceptively calm.

“I’ve just told you. The builders grew incensed at me for gazing at the scaffolding and ran me off. Sent me scuttling down a lane straight to Seven Dials, which was their intention. A barmaid told me the largest man was called Luke Mahoney.”

The name was Irish, and I waited for a flicker of recognition in Daniel’s eyes. None came. “Never heard of him. But I can’t know every villain in London. There are too damned many.”

Mr. Fielding snorted a laugh. “That’s the truth.”

I decided to keep to myself that Luke and his friends had manhandled and terrorized me. Daniel, and indeed Mr. Thanos, might want to rush out and confront them, and that was not my intention. Luke was huge and belligerent, and who knew how many like himself he could summon? Villains from Seven Dials were not to be taken lightly.

“Whatever their purpose, they certainly did not want me to continue toward St. Martin’s Lane,” I said. “Were they simply entertaining themselves, or was there something they did not wish me to see? I have not had opportunity to return and look.”

“Nor will you,” Daniel said in a hard voice. “I will take over investigating that point.”

“And me,” Mr. Fielding added. “Worry not, Mrs. Holloway. No one will notice us. We were ever good at blending in and finding things out.”

“Not if you continue to glare at each other as you have been doing,” I said. “You will stand out a mile, not to mention pay little attention to what is around you. I hope you plan to cool off before you go.”

Mr. Fielding uncrossed his ankles and sat up on the edge of his chair. “The matter is easily solved. If Daniel throws in with my plan, we’ll be great friends again.”

“Not the place to discuss it,” Daniel said, tight-lipped.

“I believe this an excellent place. Mrs. Holloway and Mr. Thanos can judge. Yes?” Mr. Fielding included both of us in the statement, but his gaze rested on me alone.

“No,” Daniel returned.

Mr. Fielding ignored him. “I’ve come across a man who knew our father, Carter, in the old days. And all his enemies, including one called Naismith.”

Daniel had told me about Mr. Naismith—he believed Mr. Naismith responsible for the murder of Mr. Carter. Daniel had been trying to get close to Mr. Naismith since a man called Pilcher, a foul specimen, had admitted to working for him.

“And you believe this man you’ve met can help you find out whether Mr. Naismith ordered the attack on Mr. Carter?” I asked.

“You have grasped the idea. Daniel seems reluctant.”