“Are you sure there isn’t anything else?”
Gale raised a brow and pursed their lips but checked anyway. After coming up empty, Gale sighed and disappeared into Head Inspector Williams’s office. Voices sounded on the other side of the door with the head inspector’s rumbling over Gale’s sharp lilt. Felipe thought he heard his name and touched his pocket to confirm the dagger was still there.
“The head inspector would like to see you for a moment.” When Felipe crossed the room with his head down, Gale added, “I’ll keep looking for that paperwork while you’re in there. If it’s here, I’ll find it.”
Knowing Gale would be outside the entire time made Felipe feel a little better. Somehow, he doubted Gale hadn’t ignored arguments or worse inside their boss’s office, but their loyalty to Head Inspector Williams probably didn’t extend to covering up a murder. Or so he hoped. Felipe slipped inside the office, his eyes running over the wall-to-wall paneling and the massive desk anchored in the center. A ship in a bottle sitting on the corner of the desk was the only extraneous decoration in an otherwise practical space. The head inspector’s office always reminded him of what Felipe imagined the interior of a frigate to look like. He had come in one day for a meeting during heavy rains and swore the room swayed. Head Inspector Williams raised his grey, bearded head and nodded toward the empty chair. Stiffly sinking into the chair, Felipe tried not to look more tense than usual. He had gone to the head inspector’s office numerous times alone, but the feeling of being brought before the headmaster never abated.
“Inspector Galvan,” Head Inspector Williams said by way of greeting as he reviewed a pile of notes on his blotter. Leaning closer as if to smooth his trouser leg, Felipe caught a few lines and realized with a sinking feeling that it was Oliver’s notes from the theft. “I’m sure you realize this, but it is a little unorthodox to investigate a crime scene when you are intimately acquainted with the owner.”
“I’m well aware, sir. The police arrived to alert us to the theft when I was having Sunday dinner with Mrs. Galvan and Miss Pfeiffer, and it wasn’t until we were at the scene that we realized the book was more than what it seemed. At that point, it seemed silly to send for someone else to investigate when we were already there and could handle it.”
“Webeing you and Barlow? With whom you were having dinner at your wife’s house?”
Felipe’s whole body locked. His danger senses went off like they had the night of his murder, but when he met Head Inspector Williams’s gaze, the man looked more perplexed than angry. Well, no more put-out than he usually looked. Relaxing a fraction, Felipe cleared his throat. This could be his moment to feel out if the head inspector had anything to do with his or the nun’s murder.
“Yes. We have been working on the Sister Mary Agnes case together and got to talking. Dr. Barlow said he didn’t have any family, and I thought he would appreciate a homecooked meal.”
“Uh huh.” The man looked his years as he sighed and raked a tattooed hand over his beard. “Spare me the side-stepping, Galvan. I don’t care what you and Barlow are up to outside of work hours. I, of all people, do not have room to talk, but don’t let it affect your work. I can’t keep track of who is sleeping with whom in this place, nor do I want to. Just keep in mind that if things go south, you still need to be able to work together. Neither one of you is easily replaceable.”
Felipe frowned, but that didn’t sound like something an assassin would say to their victim. “I can promise you that we both will remain professional no matter what happens.”
“Can you swear that Barlow will do the same?”
“He’s been a consummate professional thus far. He was entirely objective at the crime scene.”
“I can see that,” Head Inspector Williams said, gesturing to the pile of notes. “Maybe you can convince him that brevity doesn’t mean he’s cutting corners.”
Nodding, Felipe licked his lips. The man obviously hadn’t caught wind of the stolen book being theClausum Librum, and Felipe was going to keep it that way. “Head Inspector, have you received any more detailed notes from Inspector Newman on the Sister Mary Agnes case? I was hoping Gale would find them, but if we knew what we were looking for—”
“I’ve seen so many case reports this week I couldn’t remember them all if I tried,” the head inspector grumbled under his breath as he checked the pages under Oliver’s report. “If it’s still in this office, Gale will find it. If they don’t, go put in a request with the records room. Newman has gotten sloppy lately.”
The ship in the bottle bobbed on miniature waves. Felipe blinked and shook his head, but when he looked again, the waves had grown to a steady roll.
“I will eventually have to have a word with him, but not this week. Am I to assume the Sister Mary Agnes case hasnotbeen wrapped up since you’re searching for notes?”
“No, sir. We believe there was foul play. Death by magical asphyxiation, according to Dr. Barlow. We have evidence pointing strongly to one person, but we need to fill in a few blanks before we conclude the case.”
The head inspector frowned deeply, the waves inside the bottle rolling with such force that the bottle tipped forward on its stand. Felipe’s gaze stayed glued to it. Could the head inspector be manipulating the air within the bottle? Possibly, but it was far more likely that the man’s time at sea had been greatly aided by an ability to control the tides or water itself. When Inspector Williams caught him staring, he placed a heavy hand on the bottle to still it.
“Gale’s idea. Thought it might help with my stress ulcers if I had an outlet. A bottle to keep from bottling it. I don’t know if I’m more annoyed that I never thought to do this on my own or that it actually works.”
“A very creative solution.” When the head inspector’s face warmed with a hint of pride, Felipe said, “Sir, if you don’t mind me asking, why did you want us to conclude this case quickly when you assigned it to us?”
“Because dead nuns are bad for business, Galvan. Especially if the cause of death turns out to be paranormal. Either the nuns are dabbling in the occult, which makes Manhattan and the Bronx look like an even bigger cesspit than usual, or someone like us murdered a nun, which is potent ammunition for those who would rather see us shunned from polite society.” Williams’s jaw clenched, but a second later the water began to roll again inside the bottle as he took a breath. “But if this is a murder and you have a lead, deal with it, but don’t dally. I would rather keep this quiet and have it wrapped up before the press gets wind of it.”
“Sir, I think Barlow and I are going to need to use one of the steamers today to go back to the Corpus Christi Monastery. If Newman’s notes aren’t found—”
With a dismissive wave of the hand, Head Inspector Williams put aside Oliver’s case notes in favor of a far more skimmable report. “Just go. And remember, keep this quiet and make sure the sisters do the same.”
“Yes, sir. I will keep that in mind.”
Backing out of the room, Felipe’s mind raced through what they knew. The head inspector hadn’t tried to murder him, but someone else at the Paranormal Society had. Felipe stumbled back reflectively as he almost ran headlong into Gale. The assistant gave him a withering onceover and held out Newman’s thin report.
“My apologies, Gale. Thank you. I will return it to you when I’m done with it.”
“Please do,” they murmured, returning to their desk. “If Inspector Newman turned in any other notes, they’re down in the records room of the archives.”
Felipe nodded, wincing at the angry pang in his stomach. They needed to speak to the nuns as soon as possible. Even if they had all of Newman’s notes, they needed to know more about Father Gareth, and with the book missing, they would need all the information they could get. But first, Felipe needed to talk to Oliver.
