The gambler turned his eyes to the window. ‘You know as well as I do, sir, that by January those blankets will be fetching four to five dollars the blanket, more if it’s colder. Even at two dollars the blanket, if you decide you want to buy, you’ll be depriving the original owner out of twenty to thirty-thousand dollars, maybe more. And won’t his teeth be gnashing then, by God, and won’t you look the smartest dealer on Montgomery Street, bar none?’

‘Two dollars is still too high,’ said Arthur. ‘Two dollars is out of the question.’

‘It’s up to you, sir,’ replied Dan McReady. ‘I won’t lose nothing, whatever you decide to do. There’s no skin off my nose, even if you let this chance for revenge slip by. Just remember that it’s warmish now, while the sun’s still up, but they say it’s going to grow considerably chiller by midnight, and the price may have to rise, each hour you demur. It’s two dollars now, at twenty after five, but it could be three dollars by ten o’clock, and three-fifty by eleven.’

He stood up and pushed back his chair. With two straight fingers, he retrieved the bill of lading from Arthur’s desk and held it up.

‘You can see this bill’s authentic, sir, and not forged, and if you want to see the blankets themselves, they’re at Parkinson’s warehouse on Davis Street.’

Arthur Teach stood by the window. The temptation was very great. To have his own back on Collis Edmonds, and at the same time make himself more than half of the profit he had originally expected from the Aria’s blankets — well, it had the ring of justice about it, and it would work wonders for his reputation. It would silence those whispers of ‘poor old Arthur’ and those mock-sympathetic smiles whenever anybody mentioned blankets. It would do his spleen good, too.

He took a deep breath. ‘Will you take a note?’ he asked Dan McReady. ‘Just until the banks open tomorrow.’

Dan McReady shook his head. Slightly, but emphatically.

‘Well, that presents problems,’ said Arthur. ‘I’m not in the habit of carrying twenty-thousand dollars in gold around my waist, and quite strictly I’m not permitted to take personal loans out of the office safe.’

Dan McReady’s expression didn’t alter. ‘It’s up to you, sir,’ he repeated. ‘Whatever you want to do, it’s up to you.’

Arthur grimaced, and thought some more. ‘These blankets,’ he asked, ‘they’re pure wool, are they?’

‘Finest money can buy, sir.’

‘And they’re in good order?’

‘All things considered, sir, yes.’

Arthur hesitated a moment longer, but then he leaned across his desk and pinged a small brass bell. After a moment, Pudgett put his head around the door.

‘Pudgett, is the safe locked?’

‘Just this minute, sir.’