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“There are a couple of things we could do,” Conor said. “I could call my business partner, Henry Wilson, down here, and see if he knows anything about this mysterious expense. I suspect he will say he doesn’t. Don’t you?”

Dawson didn’t say a word. He was trembling.

“No one else is authorized to spend money on behalf of The Arc other than Henry and myself,” Conor said. “So if neither one of us knows what that expenditure is, it means that we’ve been robbed. The police will need to be called.”

“The police?” Dawson was very pale now. “Surely that isn’t necessary. I’m sure it’s just an oversight.”

“Are you?” Conor asked. “Because I’ll tell you what I think, Dawson. “I think you diverted the money into your own account. And when I tell the police of my suspicions, your account is the first place they’re going to look. So, tell me, what are they going to find?”

Dawson made a raspy, choking sort of noise.

“I think it’s best if you sit back down at the table,” Conor said. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Dawson said nothing but made his way slowly back over to the table where he had sat working on The Arc’s books. He lowered himself carefully into a chair.

“Tell the truth,” Conor said. “Did you divert funds from my business? Did you steal from me?”

Dawson swallowed hard.

“I can summon the police here right now,” Conor said. “You can tell your story to them, or you can tell it to me. It’s entirely up to you.”

“Yes,” Dawson whispered.

Conor was staggered. He had known, by Dawson’s behavior and by the discrepancy in the books, what must have happened. But hearing it confessed aloud like this was something else. He had trusted this man. Dawson had been helping him balance his books for years.

And now he had stolen from him.

Was there no one he could trust?

“Why?” he managed, overcoming his initial shock. “Why would you do such a thing? I pay you well, don’t I? You earn enough to live comfortably.”

“I have a daughter,” Dawson whispered. “I have a daughter, My Lord.”

“What of it?” Conor didn’t wish to be insensitive to the man’s suffering, but he knew how much a solicitor earned. He had all the money he needed to provide for himself and his daughter.

Dawson sighed and studied his hands. “Lord Farnsworth—the Baron—he believes my bad advice is to blame for his business woes. It isn’t true, My Lord. I gave him good advice, and he didn’t follow it. But now he intends to take me to court to recoup his losses. He’ll take everything I have.”

Conor frowned.

“I have to look out for the best interests of my daughter,” Dawson said. “Don’t you understand?”

“But I can’t allow you to do that by stealing from my business,” Conor said. “You must return the money.”

“I can’t.” Dawson cringed. “I’ve given it to Lord Farnsworth already. Please don’t turn me over to the law, My Lord.”

“You stole from me to pay off Lord Farnsworth.” Conor shook his head. “Why didn’t you simply tell me you were in trouble? I could have helped you.”

“You wouldn’t have helped me,” Dawson said bleakly. “Not you.”

“What do you mean,not me?”

“I hear the rumors about you,” Dawson said. “You must have heard them too. You must know what people say.”

“Tell me what they say.” He knew, but he was going to make the man say it. He was angry, furious that he had been robbed. And although he had no real intention of summoning the police, he wanted to see Dawson squirm a bit.

“You’re cold,” Dawson said. “You’re unfeeling. You don’t care for anyone or anything. You couldn’t possibly understand what it’s like to be on the verge of losing everything you’ve worked your whole life for, to know that your only daughter is depending on you and that you may not be able to provide for her.”

Conor could concede that that much was true. He did not know what it was like to have to provide for a daughter. But still. “This justifies stealing from me?”