Thompson looked less optimistic. "The sailor might be willing to speak to you, to tell you about his girl and her usual routine. He's leery of magistrates, though. He can meet you at a tavern, and I'm sure he'd be forthcoming to you if you purchased him some ale."

"The Rearing Pony in Maiden Lane," I said. "It's a congenial house."

"Then I will send him round there tomorrow, if it is convenient."

Pomeroy and Thompson could tell me little more. The young man who had approached Pomeroy was called Tom Marcus and did odd deliveries in and around Covent Garden. I might be able to find him if I looked.

"By the bye, Captain," Pomeroy said when I started to take my leave. "Why did you look me up today?"

I still did not want to discuss things in front of Thompson, and I'd changed my mind about asking for the exuberant Pomeroy's help. Carlotta's actions-deserting me and taking my daughter, who, by law, belonged to me-could land her in the dock to be tried for abduction and abandonment. While I respected Thompson and stood in awe of Pomeroy's ability to catch even the most slippery thief, I scarcely wanted either of these men to arrest the delicate Carlotta on a point of law. Pomeroy and Thompson had to be sticklers for the rules, while I considered this a purely private matter. I could discover Carlotta's lodgings in King Street if I looked hard enough, and I'd deal with the problem myself.

"Passing the time," I said. "The summer days are long."

Thompson sent me a sharp glance, sensing my disingenuousness, but Pomeroy took my words at face value.

"The long days suit me after a winter's gloom, that's a fact," Pomeroy said. "The robbers, they grow tired of waiting for the dark and attempt crimes in broad daylight. Makes things easier on me." He guffawed.

I smiled and took my leave, but Thompson still watched me closely.