M agnus was reading the Morning Post over breakfast on Monday when he noticed an article about the death of a Rothschild banker involved in the Suez Canal deal. “Weren’t we talking about the Suez at Sylvia’s party?” he asked Toby.

“We were. News about it?”

“One of the bankers involved was murdered on Saturday night, outside the boxing ring in New Cross. A man called Nathan Walpert.”

“I’ve told you before that is a disreputable area,” Toby said. “I worry about Silas spending so much time there. I know there are refined men who like to frequent the place, but they’re just asking for trouble, in my opinion.”

“So you think his death is about being in the wrong place at the wrong time, rather than having to do with the Suez?”

“What does the Post think?”

“As little as possible, as per their usual,” Magnus said. He read, “Early Saturday morning the body of banker Nathan Walpert was found in an alley behind the New Cross boxing arena. Walpert was a boxing enthusiast and according to Post sources a regular wagerer on the outcome of matches. It is suspected that he won a great deal of money earlier that evening and that criminal figures noted that, and accosted him in a robbery attempt. Police sources warn that it is dangerous to be seen carrying large amounts of cash in poverty-stricken neighborhoods such as that around New Cross.”

“That’s it?”

“No, there’s more. ‘Walpert, 31, was one of the bankers involved in Prime Minister Disraeli’s scheme to purchase controlling shares in the Suez Canal. Officials at N. M. Rothschild and Company have expressed their sorrow at his death, but claim it has nothing to do with ongoing negotiations. Walpert is survived by his wife Freya, of Hammersmith. In accordance with Judaic traditions, the funeral will take place today at Willesden Jewish Cemetery.’”

“That is rather quick, isn’t it?” Toby asked.

“I had a Jewish friend at Eton, and when his father died he was buried almost immediately,” Magnus said. “That apparently is their way.”

“Thirty-one, you say?” Toby asked. “And no children?”

“None mentioned.”

“Do you think it possible he was one of us? Married for convenience?”

“There is no reason to speculate that,” Magnus said. “There are many reasons why couples might choose not to have children. Emotional, financial, biological.”

“But the Jews often have large families,” Toby persisted. “At least in my experience. It does seem odd that he and his wife should have none.”

“As usual, the Post raises more questions than it answers,” Magnus said, and moved on to the next section.

“Don’t forget, John Seales will be here shortly for your tour of the underbelly of London life,” Toby said. “We shall see if you change your mind about the common man.”

“I can be quite common,” Magnus said, and Toby laughed.

John arrived shortly after they finished their breakfast. Will showed him in, and Magnus looked up from the paper. “What in the world are you wearing?” he asked.

Seales wore a pair of black broadcloth trousers, a plain white shirt, and a vest of heavy gray cotton. “You didn’t think we were going to talk to the poor in morning coats, did you?” he asked.

“I hadn’t thought about it,” Magnus admitted. “I don’t know that I have anything appropriate to wear.”

Toby called Will in. “Lord Dawson needs to match Lord Therkenwell’s attire,” Toby said. “What can be done?”

Will looked from one man to the other. “His lordship has a pair of disreputable wool trousers left over from his time in the Navy,” he said after a moment. “I can find him a plain enough shirt in the closet. And Carlo has a denim vest that should fit. Could you wear your navy pea coat, my lord?”

Magnus knew that Toby and Will were spoofing him and John with the constant use of their titles, but he accepted the jibes in good humor. “If I can still fit inside it,” he said. “Carlo’s food is quite a lot better than what was served on ships.”

Will disappeared to put the clothing together, and Toby turned to John. “Where will you go?”

“As I mentioned, my father owns a block of property on Cable Street in Aldgate,” he said. “I think we’ll start there, interviewing people about their housing and where they would go if they were displaced.”

“And if they would return to new housing in the area,” Magnus said.

They spoke for a few more minutes, and then Will summoned Magnus to the second floor, where he was kitted out for a day as a working man.

He appraised himself in the oval cheval mirror, turning right and then left. There was something quite odd about seeing himself attired so differently. “I suppose clothes really do make the man,” he said to Will. “I feel different.”

“To me you still look like a lord,” Will said. “Try lowering your shoulders a bit.”

Magnus let his body relax. It was hard, after years of discipline to stand up straight, and then all his time in the Navy when he had to be seen as a commander of men.

“Now look down,” Will said. “Imagine yourself talking to your father.”

“That’s not a happy thought,” Magnus said. Will had been a boy in the household of the late Duke of Hereford, Magnus’s father, and was familiar with the old man’s imperious behavior. Magnus pursed his lips and cast his eyes downward.

“You’re getting there,” Will said. “Just imagine you’re always talking to your betters.”

When he returned downstairs, John appraised him. “Your hands are too fine,” he said. “Give me your right hand.”

Magnus did as he was bidden, and John dipped it down to the soil of a potted Boston fern. “There. Now you have a bit of dirt under your nails. And you must try to bring your language down to that of the common man. But you will do. Have you any spare change or small bills?”

“I have some in my change purse.”

“Bring that, then, but leave your wallet behind. We may need to spread a few coins to get folk to talk to us.”

They bid goodbye to Toby and walked out to Ormond Yard. The air had a chill but it was more bracing than frigid. “You have some experience of this,” Magnus said.

“I do. My broadsides as Janner began first to sway opinion regarding various bills in Parliament. But as my audience grew, so did my awareness of certain elements of life about which I have strong feelings.”

“Your series about how children are oppressed in factories,” Magnus said as they walked. “I read those.”

“That was when I first began to do research,” John said. “And each child or woman I spoke with gave me new insight into the horrors they face. I believe those interviews helped me make an impact. If people are presented with details of human suffering, they are more likely to respond, either with their votes or their wallets.”

They walked to Duke of York Street and hailed a carriage to Cable Street, where they disembarked several blocks ahead of Earl Badgely’s properties. “Wouldn’t do for us to pull up in a carriage and attempt to be regular folk,” John said.

The street was crowded with peddlers, workingmen and women. It smelled of smoke and fish, and there was a constant clatter of sales patter and the clomp of horses’ hooves. Magnus did his best to keep his head down and blend in. He found that his attire helped, particularly the bowler hat he had borrowed from Will, which he never would have worn otherwise.

John stopped an elderly woman carrying a full basket of washing. “Here, missus, let us help you with that,” he said, in an accent quite unlike his own.

He took one handle of the basket and Magnus the other. It was surprisingly heavy. They followed the woman down the street to her residence, and Magnus could tell from John’s raised eyebrow that it was among those of their destination.

They carried the basket inside and up three flights of steps. “Ye’re very kind,” the woman said. “Can I offer ye a glass of water?”

They both accepted. Magnus was surprised how winded he was after the climb.

John took the opportunity to ask the woman questions about the rooms where she lived, her rent, and the neighborhood. Magnus marveled at how easily John spoke to the woman and the rapport they developed between them.

She sent them down one flight to talk to a young mother with two infants, and to his surprise Magnus found himself rocking one of the babies in his arms to quiet her so that John could talk to her mother. Before they left, Magnus gave the woman a farthing to buy something for the children, which she accepted gratefully.

That was how the rest of their morning went. After each interview, John took notes of what he had learned, often asking Magnus for his opinions or to clarify something someone had said.

“You should have brought Toby instead of me,” Magnus said at one point. “He has much more of an ear for language than I do.”

Indeed, some of those they spoke with were recent immigrants from Eastern Europe, who spoke little English, and what they did was often difficult to understand.

“Toby has more experience with common folk than you do,” John said. “It’s more important that you learn what he already knows.”

“He did not grow up in poverty,” Magnus protested. “His father was quite wealthy when Toby was a boy, and sent him away to school, and then to Cambridge.”

“There is still a difference,” John said. “I see it with Raoul. Things that I take for granted are marvels to him. Part of it is the difference in culture between France and Britain. But in the end it all comes down to money. Who has it and who has not.”

They stopped an oyster-seller and bought three oysters with bread and butter for each of them. They stopped at a pub for a shandygaff, a mixture of ale and ginger beer. There was a bit of wind when they stepped back outside, but instead of making the air colder, it swept away some of the smoke and let the sun break through.

By the end of the day, Magnus was overwhelmed with all he had learned, but John was still eager to speak with more people. “I don’t see how you do it,” Magnus said, shaking his head as they returned to Ormond Yard. “Not just the physical aspect—we have been on our feet all day! But the emotional one as well. We have seen more poverty today than I have in the past year.”

“That is because you don’t see it,” John said. “Just look ahead of us. That man with the heavy cart? That boy running? They are our underclass, and they are all around us.”

“It is interesting,” Magnus said. “Since I met Toby, and we made our connections with the Foreign Office, we have been much more concerned with wealthy foreigners than with the impoverished immigrants such as we met today. I am awed at what I have discovered under my very feet.”

“And today was just a sight-seeing excursion compared to what one can see of London if one really looks,” John said.