“But it’s the price that’s so important.” Alicia looked around the male company. “It’s always difficult to get good-quality coffee and tea—there never is enough brought into the country, even now. As Kit said, it’s supply and demand, so the price always remains high.”
“For good quality,” Adriana stressed.
“Indeed.” Kit nodded. “And that, perhaps, is where A. C. might have made his money. During the war, certainly over the years ’12 to ’15, the price of tea and coffee—the better-quality stuff—fluctuated wildly. It was always high, but sometimes it reached astronomical heights.”
“Because,” Leonora took up the tale, “you men always insist on your coffee at the breakfast table, and we ladies, of course, must have our tea for our tea parties, and the ton wouldn’t go around if those things weren’t there.”
There was an instant’s silence as the men all stared at them.
“Are you saying”—Charles leaned forward and fixed them with an intent look—“that during the war, the price of tea and coffee was often driven high—very high— because of sudden shortages?”
All five ladies nodded decisively.
Miranda added, “Only the best-quality merchandise, mind you.”
“Indeed. But tea and coffee—the finest quality—appears on each of those lists? One or the other at least?”
Again, the ladies nodded.
“That,” Alicia concluded, “seems the only link—the only thing in common, so to speak.”
“Held to ransom over our breakfasts.” Gervase gathered the lists and shuffled through them. “Doesn’t bear thinking of, but it certainly looks—and sounds—right.”
Tristan was looking over his shoulder. “Two ships from the West Indies with coffee, the other four, all East Indiamen, carried tea.”
“These prices.” Jack fixed his wife with a questioning glance. “How much of an increase are we looking at— prices twice as high, three times?”
“For the best coffee?” Kit glanced at Leonora and Alicia. “Anything from ten, to even fifty times the usual price, I would say.”
“For tea,” Miranda said, “it could easily be from ten to thirty times the price before the war—and even that price was always high.”
“How high?” Tristan asked.
The ladies pursed their lips, then tossed around figures that made the men blanch. “Good God!” Charles stopped, calculating. “Why that’s…”
“One hell of a lot of
money!” Jack growled.
“One hell of a lot of profit,” Gervase said.
“One very good reason to ensure that the supply failed at critical times.” Tony fixed the ladies with an inquisitorial look. “From what you’re saying, the person who would stand to gain—”
“Is the merchant who had brought in a cargo of tea and coffee safely just before any shortage occurred.”
It was Jack who had spoken. Tony looked at him. “Before?”
Jack nodded. “The warehouses and docks know when a ship and its cargo doesn’t arrive, and the merchants mark up the prices of the goods they have in stock accordingly—that I know for fact.”
“So…” They all sat and thought it over, then Tony called them to order. “Assuming the answer is tea and coffee, how do we go on from here?”
“We first check the waybills of the other ten ships we know were lost courtesy of Ruskin’s information.” Jack glanced at Tony. “Two of us, now we know what we’re looking for, could probably check all the waybills at once.”
Tony nodded. “We’ll do it tonight.”
“Meanwhile,” Christian said, “the rest of us can start investigating the merchants who specialize in tea and coffee. The connection to A.C. must be through them.” He frowned, then glanced around. “What could the connection between A.C. and a merchant be, given we know, or at least can surmise, that A.C. is one of the ton?”
Charles grimaced. “Can we surmise that, do you think? That he is one of us?”