The woman maneuvered her way between a few tables until she was able to speak with them properly. “Gracious, you’ve no idea how concerned Philipa has been about your absence. Have you met with her yet?”
“No. Not yet.”
“Oh, but you must. She’ll be overjoyed to see you looking so well.”
“Thank you, Laura.” Ida tugged her arm free of Simon’s and he reluctantly let her go. “Where’s MacNeil?”
“In the tap room as far as I know. Would you like me to show you the way?”
“We’ll manage.” Ida gave the woman a reassuring smile. “It was good seeing you again.”
Feeling much like a fish that had just been tossed onto the shore, Simon followed Ida across the uneven plank flooring. He didn’t like how most of the men paused to stare at her when she passed them and instinctively found himself balling his hands into fists.
“Miss Strong. Fielding. Welcome to The Black Swan,” Blayne said once they found him. Judging from his relaxed manner, he’d been having a casual chat with a few of the tavern’s regulars.
“Thank you,” Ida said. She stared up at the massive Scotsman. “Have you learned anything yet?”
A startled laugh was his first response. When she frowned, he coughed and immediately sobered. “I’ve nae had more than an hour, lass, but Reeves here reminded me of old Maggie’s son, Harold, who was minting counterfeit coins several years ago.”
“Guthrie put an end to it, I’ll tell you,” said a slim man with a beaked nose and a charcoal gray woolen cap pulled over his brow. “Claimed Harold was being too careless and that he’d eventually stir up trouble for everyone else in St. Giles. Threatened to hand him over to the law enforcement himself unless Harold stopped.”
“And did he?” Simon asked.
Blayne snorted. “No one thwarts Guthrie’s wishes. But Harold was skilled, so there’s always the chance he decided to earn some extra blunt by crafting a seal, though I dare say Guthrie would have kicked his arse for it if he’d known.”
“Perfect,” Ida muttered. There was still hope she might learn the truth. “Where can we find him?”
Reeves tilted his head. “At Bunhill, I reckon.”
Ida’s stomach dropped at the mention of the cemetery. “He’s dead?”
“Far as I know he took a drunken fall into the Thames about… What do you reckon, MacNeil? Four years ago, give or take?”
“Sounds about right,” Blayne agreed.
A chill swept through Ida.
“What else can you tell us about him?” Simon asked.
“Dunno,” Reeves muttered. “He lived with his ma not far from here. On Newton Street, I believe it was. Came here most evenings after work. We’d play cards together, him and me. Harold was hard to beat, though I’ll wager he probably cheated most of the time.”
Ida glanced at Simon before returning her attention to Reeves. “Where was he employed?”
“At the Shadwell Gun Works,” Reeves said.
“Are you sure?” Simon asked.
“Course I am.” Reeves sounded slightly annoyed.
“I wonder, did Harold ever give any indication that he might fear for his life?” Simon asked.
Reeves shook his head. “Not that I recall. If anything, he was very excited about something right before he died. Said all his problems would soon be solved.”
“I’m sure that’s what he believed,” Simon muttered. “What about his colleagues?”
“Huh?” Reeves gave Simon a puzzled look.
“Did none of the other Shadwell employees ever come here?”
