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companion, Mr. Harrow, took an interest in my charity house. When I mentioned my plans to raid some brothels in order to engage the attention of the press, Mr. Harrow offered to assist. He invited two members of the Janus Club to help also. Do you know of the club, sir?”
    “Pierce established it years ago. The members are all women who prefer to live as men. I assume that the volunteers from the club are the ones who spirit the girls away after you have emptied the house by crying fire?”
    “Yes. But how do you know so much about Mr. Pierce?”
    “Over the years we have found it mutually advantageous to form an alliance.”
    “I suppose I can understand why the two of you would have been obliged to arrive at certain arrangements and understandings regarding the control of the various shady businesses that you each operate. Open war would hardly benefit either of you.”
    He discovered to his surprise that he did not care for the disdain in her voice. He thought that he had long ago ceased to be concerned with the opinions of others, but Adelaide Pyne’s obvious disapproval irritated him for some reason.
    “Don’t you find your position somewhat hypocritical, Mrs. Pyne?”
    “I beg your pardon?”
    “You are a lady who forms associations with crime lords when it suits you. What does that make you?”
    He heard the quick intake of her breath and knew that he had finally scored a point. What the devil was the matter with him? He needed her help. Trading barbs was hardly the most intelligent way to go about the task.
    “Let us be clear, sir,” she said. “I have formed an alliance with one particular crime lord, Mr. Pierce, not with you or anyone else in that business.”
    “I stand corrected,” he said. “One alliance with one crime lord, it is.”
    “Speaking of Pierce, you claim that he did not tell you my identity. How, then, did you discover it?”
    “Your raids have created quite a sensation, not just in the press but on the streets as well. There were rumors that some of the young prostitutes who have disappeared in the past few months vanished shortly after visiting a certain charity house on Elm Street. I made some inquiries and learned that the establishment, which until recently had been struggling financially, was currently flourishing under a new, anonymous patron known only as The Widow.”
    “Your investigation led you directly to me?” She was aghast. “Was it really so simple to discover my identity?”
    “You have concealed your connection to the charity house well. But while individuals may hide their identities easily enough, I regret to inform you that it is relatively simple to track the flow of money. That is especially true when it transpires that all of the bills and expenses of a certain charity house are paid for by a specific bank.”
    “Good heavens. My bankers gave you my name? Is nothing sacred?”
    “In my extensive experience, no, at least not when money is involved. There is an individual employed at your bank who happened to owe me a favor. When he learned that I was seeking the identity of the new patron of a certain charity house he was kind enough to repay his debt to me by giving me your name.”
    “I see.” Frost dripped from every word. “Do you always do business in such a manner?”
    “Whenever possible. I have all the money I require, Mrs. Pyne. These days I find that a debt owed to me is a far more valuable commodity.”
    “So you threaten and intimidate innocent people such as that bank clerk?”
    “I thought I made it clear. There were no threats involved. The clerk owed me a favor.”
    “It strikes me that a favor owed to a crime lord is little short of a threat or extortion.”
    “Were you born this self- righteous, Mrs. Pyne, or did you acquire the trait during your years in America?”
    She stiffened. “You know that I lived in America?”
    “The bank clerk mentioned it. But I would have guessed it in any event. I can hear the overtones of an