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in good order.
      7. No talking is allowed during business hours.
      8. The craving of tobacco, wines or spirits is a human weakness, and as such is forbidden to the clerical staff.
      9. Members of the clerical staff will provide their own pens.
    10. The managers of the firm will expect a great rise in the output of work to compensate for these near Utopian conditions.
    However Utopian, the working conditions of Huddleston & Bradford led the clerk Rivers to speak freely about Mr. Trent. And with less enthusiasm than one might expect for a Utopian employer.
    “Bit of a stiff, he is,” Rivers said. “Snapping his watch at eight-thirty sharp, and checking all to see they are at their places, no excuses. God help the man whose omnibus is late in the traffic of the rush.”
    “Demands his routine, does he?”
    “With a vengeance, he does. He’s a stiff one—the job must be done, and that’s all he cares for. He’s getting on in years,” Rivers said. “And vain, too: grew whiskers longer than yours, he did, on account of the fact he’s losing the hair up top.”
    During this period, there was considerable debate about the propriety of whiskers on gentlemen. It was a new fashion, and opinion was divided on its benefits. Similarly, there was a new fashion in smoking, called cigarettes, just introduced, but the most conservative men did not smoke—certainly not in public, or even athome. And the most conservative men were clean-shaven.
    “He has this brush, I hear,” Rivers went on. “Dr. Scott’s electric hairbrush, comes from Paris. You know how dear it is? Twelve shillings sixpence, that’s what it is.”
    Rivers would find this expensive: he was paid twelve shillings a week.
    “What’s it do?” Pierce inquired.
    “Cures headaches, dandruff, and baldness, too,” Rivers said, “or so it’s claimed. Queer little brush. He locks himself into his office and brushes once an hour, punctual.” Here Rivers laughed at the foibles of his employer.
    “He must have a large office.”
    “Aye, large and comfortable, too. He’s an important man, Mr. Trent is.”
    “Keeps it tidy?”
    “Aye, the sweeper’s in every night, dusting and arranging just so, and every night as he leaves, Mr. Trent says to the sweeper, ‘A place for everything, and everything in its place,’ and then he leaves, seven o’clock punctual.”
    Pierce did not recall the rest of the conversation, for it was of no interest to him. He already knew what he wanted—that Trent did not keep the key in his office. If he did, he would never leave the place to be cleaned in his absence, for sweepers were notoriously easy to bribe, and to the casual eye there was little difference between a thorough cleaning and a thorough search.
    But even if the key was not in the office, it might still be kept in the bank. Mr. Trent might choose to lock it in one of the vaults. To determine if this was so, Pierce could strike up a conversation with a different clerk, but he was anxious to avoid this. Instead, he chose another method.

CHAPTER 7

The Swell
    Teddy Burke, twenty-four, was working the Strand at two in the afternoon, the most fashionable hour. Like the other gentlemen, Teddy Burke was decked out, wearing a high hat, a dark frock coat, narrow trousers, and a dark silk choker. This outfit had cost him a pretty, but it was essential to his business, for Teddy Burke was one of the swellest of the swell mobsmen.
    In the throng of gentlemen and ladies who browsed among the elegant shops of this thoroughfare, which Disraeli called “the first street in Europe,” no one would notice that Teddy Burke was not alone. In fact, he was working his usual operation, with himself as dipper, a stickman at his side, and two stalls front and back—altogether, four men, each as well-dressed as the next. These four slipped through the crowd, attracting no attention. There was plenty of diversion.
    On this fine early summer day, the air was warm and redolent of horse