The office of Drew Commercial Exchange on Wharf Road was small, quiet, and smelling of leather ledger bindings, sealing wax, and fresh newsprint. Behind an antique dark wood counter that had once served a royal shipping company sat Tamsin Drew. At forty-eight, Tamsin had the sharp, calculating eyes of an approved public accountant and the calm, rock-steady manner of a woman who had spent twenty-five years arbitrating customs disputes between stubborn harbor captains.
On the counter before her sat three sets of accounts: one for Morland Plumbing, one for Threadbare Alterations, and one for Bell Ecological Services. Beside the accounts rested a velvet-lined dark wood tray containing twelve small metal bars of antique Lathmere silver. It was stamped with the civic dolphin and gate.
Ada Morland, Jo Saye, and Imran Bell sat in the three leather armchairs opposite the counter, each holding a cup of hot black tea Tamsin had poured from her silver pot.
“The accounts are reconciled in full,” Tamsin announced. She tapped her ivory letter-opener against the ledger page. “I have completed the dual audit with Clerk Varo Nenn via the spatial deep ring end-post. Every single entry matches to the pennyweight.”
Tamsin Drew lifted one of the antique silver metal bars from the dark wood tray. She held it under a lit up magnifying desk lamp. ‘Look at the assay hallmark on the reverse, Ada. Stamped by the sworn culler of the Town Mint of Lathmere in the year of the frost. Nine hundred and twenty-five…
