Miss Morgan and the Gypsy

Nineteen: The Case Begins

"You have the nerve to say I need to learn some humility?"

"Of course."

"Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black?"

"Which is why I can state it to you. My vanity is very well developed. Now the flame. Let's discuss it. Have you ever seen something so pure and clean?"

"No, I haven't. What kind of oil is it?"

"A Canadian geologist that went by the name Abraham Gesner developed a liquid oil he called kerosene and founded the Kerosene Gaslight Company." Nicu held his finger up, looking around for something. "He had a hard time with production because of capacity, so it wasn't widely produced. Yet, somewhere else, an inventor named Samuel Kier had found a peculiar, foul substance in his salt wells and dumped it, believing it was useless. Come to find out..." Nicu paused his search and glanced over at St. George. "It wasn't. One day, the oil caught fire, and he realized he had an opportunity to make a profit. He experimented with it, and after some failed attempts at creating medicine and other things, he found an efficient way to use it to create kerosene. He's selling it to miners."

Nicu found what he was looking for and grabbed a paper, smacking it against his desk for St. George to see. "A paper from over the pond?"

"Petroleum." Nicu declared.

"Petroleum? Really?" St. George questioned a note of disbelief in his tone.

"He calls it Carbon Oil, but it's petroleum. Sperm oil is expensive because it is gradually becoming scarcer. This right here," Nicu tapped his finger vigorously on the paper. "This man is about to make an even larger fortune if he plays his cards right. Kerosene was once considered to have little value, but now that he has come up with a cheap way to create it, we will be having a new source of light."

Nicu bent down, examining the flame as it danced. "One with barely a scent to it. So clean and pure, but also..." He took a cloth and held it up to the small fire, and the second it lapped the fabric; it caught on fire. "Incredibly dangerous."

"Where did you find such oil?"

Taking off his goggles, Nicu let go of the cloth, snuffing out the flames with his shoe before they could destroy his whole flat. "Remnants I had gathered from the finishing school. I managed to drain some out of the soil."

"What does this all mean?"

Nicu sighed. "That either the culprit we are dealing with is an American or has resources tied to Samuel Kier, maybe even a miner. This oil hasn't reached here yet, but it will soon. I have no doubt. For now, this creation can only be found in the States."

"How did you find all this?" St. George questioned.

"Research," Nicu answered, putting out the flame.

"I will be assisting you. Whether you like it or not."

"Two assistants? That makes me seem unable to do my job and possibly harm my reputation, but I may need you when I go to the shop for the lighter."

"Need in what sense?" St. George asked. "Currency?"

"What else?" Nicu peered out the window of his flat. "Good. They have arrived. Let's take your carriage, shall we?"

He slapped St. George's arm, causing the lord to crack his neck in irritation.

"Oh, and one other thing," Nicu remarked. "How I talk to you, does it bother you? Offend you in any way?"

St. George stopped, perplexed by the odd question. "It irritates me to no end, but you are the only person I have ever known that speaks openly and honestly to me."