Page 13 of A Whisper in the Shadows

“I believe so,” Hadrian replied. “Two pence?”

“Three shillings to join,” Mr. Furnier said crisply. “Two pence per week after that. The amount varies based on age, and you are not young.”

Hadrian nearly scoffed at that assessment. He certainly didn’t feelold. Withdrawing the necessary funds from his coat, he held the coins out to the bursar.

Furnier frowned and did not take the money. “You haven’t been approved yet.”

Hadrian didn’t withdraw his hand. He was very close to being admitted—it was clear Nevill wanted him. “My apologies. I thought I had.”

“Of course, you are,” Nevill said jovially before casting an exasperated glance toward Furnier. “We would be glad to accept your application. Don’t you agree, Walter?” He looked expectantly at the apparent man in charge.

Mr. Phelps hesitated, then stretched his lips into a thin smile. “Yes, of course. We’ll take down your information after the meeting, as we must begin. You may give your entrance fee toMr. Draper over there.” He gestured toward the man sitting at a table near the door. “Then please take your seat.”

Hadrian grinned with what he hoped was the proper amount of enthusiasm. “Thank you very much.” He’d learned a great deal about playing a role from watching Tilda. He went to the man Phelps had indicated—Draper—just as he was closing a wooden box.

Hadrian glimpsed a cock and snake carved into the top before as he handed over his entrance fee. Draper opened the lid and dropped the coins inside the box. “Your name?”

“Nigel Beck.”

Draper recorded Hadrian’s payment in a ledger, then dropped the coins into the box. He looked up and smiled warmly. “Welcome. I’m Draper. Who sponsored your membership?”

“My brother-in-law, Albert Harwood.”

“I work with Harwood,” Draper said amiably. “He didn’t mention you.”

Hadrian wasn’t sure if Draper meant anything by that. The man didn’t appear suspicious, so Hadrian decided it was an innocuous statement.

“Please take your seats,” Phelps announced.

Draper closed the box and turned the key in the lock before taking it to Furnier whilst Hadrian sat down with Maxwell in the middle of the rows. The room was not quite full, but it was close.

“They admitted you?” Maxwell whispered.

Hadrian nodded. “Nevill was quite zealous in his desire to welcome me. Furnier was…less so.”

“He seems prickly.”

“So I gathered.” Hadrian was quite pleased with how that had gone. He only wished he’d had time to shake at least one of their hands.

The three administrators moved behind the table whilst the doctor sat in a chair on the right side near the wall. The man at the table near the door closed it and went to sit in one of the rows. Phelps stood in the middle and reached beneath the table. He pulled out something feathered and set it atop his head.

Hadrian realized it was a hat adorned with the plumage of a cock. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling or, worse, laughing.

Phelps picked up the gavel and tapped it on the table three times, then once, then three more times. The sound was muffled by the tablecloth.

“I hereby call the meeting of the Amicable Society of the Coleman Street Ward to order,” Phelps called out, then turned his head toward Nevill. “Let us introduce our new members since our last meeting, not all of whom are present this evening.”

How was it that they admitted members who weren’t present? Furnier had made a fuss about Hadrian attending meetings. Furthermore, how were those members approved for membership if they weren’t subjected to the same interview process? These questions were pertinent to the investigation.

Nevill sat down and opened the ledger, then announced several names. Taking a pen from his coat, he wrote several more as he spoke them, including Albert Harwood and Nigel Beck. Presumably, he was adding those who had been offered membership this evening.

The secretary set the pen aside and rose once more. “Let us recite our oath. Will the new members come forward?”

Hadrian and Maxwell exchanged a glance as they stood and moved to the front of the room along with four other men.

Nevill set a piece of parchment on the front of the table toward them. “This is our oath. We will ask you all to put your hand on the Bible and repeat the oath in turn.”

Hadrian patiently waited while the other gentlemen completed their recitations. He’d practically memorized the oath by the time it was his turn to put his hand on the Bible.