“Don’t let me keep you,” Madly said, even the politeness somehow insolent.
“There is no point in your staying, either,” Solomon said. “I have warned Mrs. St. John to stay at home and not to speak to strangers.”
Madly stared at him.
“God, I need a drink,” he said unexpectedly. “Join me. Or don’t you frequent such places now that you are so respectable,Mrs. Grey?”
“Just the same, Mr. Madly. I go where I choose and keep the company I choose.”
“Then, for the first time ever, do pick mine.”
It wasn’t really a request, but Constance had no intention of refusing it. Neither had Solomon.
The three of them left together and found a respectable public house that had a parlor for mixed company. They werethe only customers in that tiny room, so they took seats as far from the door as they could get and were soon served with ale and port for Constance. Madly’s lips twitched at that.
“Is Kenny a danger to Mrs. St. John?” he asked abruptly.
“He has the same information that Veronique had,” Constance said. “Do you have any idea where he could be found?”
“Probably no more than you or the police.” He looked thoughtful. “Unless he plans to disappear for a long time. Go abroad, perhaps, to America or Australia.”
“He would need papers,” Solomon said impatiently.
“Forgers,” Constance and Madly said together.
Constance had never been sorry before that she had moved so far away from the criminal world.
But Madly had not.
“Who?” Solomon asked him. “Do you know where he would go?”
“I might. But I have to live in these streets after you’ve gone back to your palaces.”
“Actually, you don’t,” Solomon said. “You choose to. A man can change his mind.”
“Thisman has limited options, but I shan’t argue.”
Constance met Solomon’s gaze. “We could find Kenny through the forger. With the right story.”
“And the right teller,” Solomon said thoughtfully, transferring his gaze to Madly.
*
Janey and Lennyhad spent an exhausting and frustrating day searching in some of the lowest and most dangerous places for any sign of Kenny. Besides discovering that his Christian name was, apparently, Horatio, they had learned nothing of any value.
As they trudged back toward the office, Janey couldn’t understand why she wasn’t more disheartened. She didn’t like failing, and she didn’t like letting Constance down. Nor Mr. Grey, who had become something of a hero to her. And yet, while she still worried at the problem of where Kenny could be hiding out, she was aware that her background sense of wellbeing had never really gone away. Which was odd in itself, considering where they had been.
“Maybe the others had more luck,” she said. “Or even the peelers—they got to be useful for something.”
“You always get more cynical when you’re hungry,” Lenny said. “My workshop’s only in the next street. We can make a cup of tea and get some bread and cheese there, if you like.”
“Why not?” she said, as though indifferent, though her heart suddenly beat faster.
She knew where his workshop was. She had dragged him out of it often enough to help with various investigations. But she had never even sat down there before, just stood by the door, waiting for him. His invitation was surely a gesture of trust. And certainly, she wouldn’t mind resting her weary feet for a few minutes.
He was looking at her, a faint, friendly smile playing about his lips. “You’re quite an asset to Silver and Grey, you know. They’re lucky to have you.”
“That’s what I keep telling ’em.You’d be nothing without me,I say, and—”
