Economics of the Dray

At two-fifteen that afternoon, the conference room door opened without a knock.

Arthur looked up with an immediate frown, ready to dress down whichever junior clerk had breached executive protocol.

Instead, a burly, immaculately dressed man in a tailored houndstooth overcoat strode into the room, carrying a silver-banded cane and a rolled copy of the Helmarte Morning Chronicle.

It was Edwin Carrow.

The former master of the city's largest horse-drawn carriage syndicate had transitioned into motorized transport with ruthless commercial agility. His company, Carrow Motor Carriages, already operated twenty-eight Teucher passenger automobiles across the capital.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," Carrow said, tossing his leather gloves onto the table with an easy grin.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Carrow. We were not expecting you until Thursday."

"I saw the morning broadsheets, Arthur," Carrow replied, unrolling the newspaper.