Asher turned out of Mr. Bolard's room, counted two doors, and twisted the knob.
Henry's office was much cozier than Mr. Bolard's; there was a fire warming the hearth. The window was draped, causing dancing shadows from the fireplace.
In a corner, a barrel of various bladed weapons could be seen. There were shelves of books and bottles, beakers of colorful liquids.
Some seemed to contain various preserved organs; Asher wasn't sure what animal they came from.
Near the fire, an old man sat sipping a steaming mug. He had grey and black hair; he kept his beard very short.
"He's probably 6 ft at the least," Asher couldn't help but think.
"Hello Henry, my name is Asher. I've just been hired on; Detective Bolard asked me to seek you out."
Henry turned towards Asher, looked him up and down, then set his mug on a coffee table.
Henry let out a chuckle before getting up and walking towards his desk.
"Detective? Ah yes, detective... anyhow, you're the new assistant I see. Alright, give me a moment."
Henry dug through his desk, pulled out a key, and unlocked a drawer on the bottom.
He withdrew a brass revolver with a walnut handle and Bolard Consultancy carefully embossed on the side.
Setting it down on the desk before producing a box full of bullets.
Then he put down a badge made of iron; it was a shield with two swords running down the back. The words "Tenebris Pugnamus" inscribed over the front.
"Go ahead and pick anything from the barrel as well, go see Liz when you're done. For the foreseeable future, you'll come to my office for self-defense classes. Quarter past 7 sharp, now go on."
Asher looked at the gun and holster briefly, then he removed his windbreaker. Donning the underarm holster, he popped open the barrel before loading 5 bullets.
Then he turned the barrel until the empty slot was in the firing position. Feeling a bit safer, he inserted the revolver into the holster.
Putting his jacket back on, he stuffed the remaining bullets and badge into his pockets. He walked over to the barrel in the corner of the room.
It really was an absolute mess, he couldn't help but think. He could hardly see what was in the bloody barrel.
If he wanted to, he'd likely just get his fingers sliced. Nonetheless, he secured himself a silver stiletto, tucked it into the lining of his shoe, and left.
Walking towards the lobby, he saw Liz thankfully awake. Her blonde hair and green eyes really brightened up the room. Unfortunately, she really did seem to have trouble staying awake.
"Hello Liz, I've been hired. Henry told me I should come see you about my pay." Liz glanced at him before smiling energetically.
"Congratulations! Pay? Pay! Yes, ah, pay. Follow me, let's go see Helena."
Helena, presumably the accountant of the firm, was a woman in her late 20s. She had curly brown hair tied up in a tight bun. Her eyes were hazel and she wore a blue lady's suit, complete with a pencil skirt. She wore glasses, currently focusing her attention on assaulting a typewriter.
If Asher didn't know better, he suspected it owed her money.
"Helena, this is Asher, he's the new assistant! He's come to get his pay."
Helena didn't seem too surprised and simply unlocked a safe near her feet. She withdrew 24 pounds and handed them to Asher.
"This is advance pay of 6 months. Use it to make yourself presentable and move closer to the office. You will need to be within 15 minutes of the office in case of emergencies. You will receive only a quarter of your wage until the advance pay is repaid. I hope we will be seeing each other often."
Helena seemed quite kind, if not overworked, she quickly resumed her assault on the innocent typewriter.
Asher was starting to grow suspicious, thinking perhaps he didn't quite understand what he had signed up for. 24 pounds? He'd never seen this kind of money; truly a windfall. 4 pounds a month? The job posting said 2 pounds a month!
Well, I'll not look a gift horse in the mouth, I suppose. Finishing up and bidding both madams goodbye, Asher once again found himself knocking on Mr. Bolard's door.
After hearing a small groan and a word of acknowledgment, he entered.
"Detective, I've been given advance pay of 6 months, as well as a revolver, dagger, and 50 bullets. I don't know how to shoot a gun. Is there somewhere I can practice?"
"Ah, Asher... yes, there is. Henry can teach you, don't worry. The advance pay is to make sure you can do your job. Make sure you're presentable and find a place close to work as soon as possible. Right, take care of that before you show up here, please. When you're done, you start at 7 am. Once you meet your coworkers, you can work out your day off with them. Good day, Asher."
"Good day, Mr. Bolard."
Thinking it was his cue to leave, Asher left, smiled at Liz, and walked out the door. They said make myself look presentable?
Searching for his wallet, he made sure to keep it firmly in his hand.
He was rich, unbelievably rich! Bloody hell, I can rent a flat in the middle boroughs.
Walking down the street in perhaps the best of spirits, Asher swaggered into a local tailor by the name of Anston Fine Cloths.
The salesman was impeccably dressed in what looked to be bright red cashmere. Downright extravagant! Asher complained inwardly.
"Hello, sir. What can I help you with today?"
Asher secretly threw one more annoyed look at the man's dress before responding.
"I need two suits, one linen, the other wool, as well as an adorning hat and shoes, please."
"Certainly, that will be 6 pounds each. Please do take note that pays for the tailoring and upkeep as well. Should you need a repair, you need only have them sent to our shop. We will take care of it free of charge."
Asher felt the very floor beneath his feet sink. He couldn't think properly for a moment. He almost slapped himself; surely he had misheard the man. 12 pounds?!??!?!?!
"Is there no way I can get a discount? 12 pounds seems a little steep...perhaps 10 pounds would be more fair?"
The salesman looked surprised, momentarily regaining his composure swiftly.
"12 pounds is our bottom line, sir. We would not profit otherwise. I assure you this is a fair price. Our goods are top quality and we provide the best service."
Asher grumbled for a while, then began extracting bills from his wallet.
The salesman couldn't figure out why Asher seemed to be seeing off a child before a long trip.
Sometime later, Asher walked out of Anston Fine Cloths.
Walking home towards Hobble Street, Asher realized he'd have to walk through Kensington with these.
Thinking quickly, he turned around and asked the salesman to have it delivered.