Oliver stared at him for a long moment. “But you’re an investigator. They always have a partner.”
“Yes, well, my partner decided last minute that he didn’t want to come, so here I am,” Ansley said peevishly. “I will give you all an update when I get back.”
As Ansley stood, Oliver flashed Felipe a pleading look. “You can’t go there alone.”
“I certainly can.”
Investigating any place alone was a terrible idea. Doing so when there was already a history of disappearances and a potential death tied to it was foolhardy.
“I agree with Oliver. You shouldn’t go to the institute alone if people sent by the society have gone missing. It isn’t safe, and you going missing certainly won’t help your case.”
“So one minute you’re desperate to be rid of me, and the next you want to take over my case?” Ansley replied, releasing a high laugh.
“No! Just because I don’t want to spend time with you, Ansley, doesn’t mean I want you dead.”
“Look,” Felipe offered, “what if one of us came with you as the woman’s brother? If my sister’s husband was threatening to send her off to god knows where, I would want to know about it. A concerned brother showing up unannounced to an appointment like that wouldn’t be too suspicious, and it would allow one of us inside with you.” When Ansley’s features shifted from hostile to thoughtful, Felipe added, “Having a second set of eyes and ears never hurts.”
“It’s not the worst plan, but you can’t ask about your case. The only objective is going to have a look around the facilities.”
“Then, that settles it. Felipe will go with you.”
“No, Oliver, I think it should be you.”
“What?” Ansley and Oliver replied in unison.
“You know he’s an abysmal liar, right? And he has no field experience.”
“He has noundercoverexperience, but I’ve worked with Oliver for months now and he is one of the most observant people I know. He notices things I wouldn’t even if I tried to look for them. Plus, he’s a doctor. If something fishy is going on in a medical setting, he’ll see it long before we will.”
“Felipe, I don’t know if this is a good idea. Ansley isn’t wrong. I’m not... I’m not equipped for this.”
“You are. You may not have the experience yet, but the only way you can get it is by doing. Ultimately, you are the best one for the job.” Dropping his voice, Felipe added, “I wouldn’t suggest anything I thought you incapable of. I sincerely think you’ll understand what’s going on faster than I will.”
“And our antagonism might work in our favor too,” Ansley mused as he twirled a piece of chalk between his fingers. “If you’re my wife’s doctor brother, I will need them to help me convince you everything is on the up and up, which means we might be able to see more of the clinic, parts they wouldn’t show a lay person, and you asking probing questions wouldn’t be strange. Yes, this could work.”
Oliver winced as the chalk scratched across the board. He looked warily between Felipe and Ansley as the latter wrote out their objectives and the story he had woven in his letter to the head of the Institute for the Betterment of the Soul. Oliver’s already pale face went ashen as Ansley explained the story. A part of Felipe wanted to take Oliver’s place. He could describe what he saw, if need be, but if Oliver wanted to be an investigator, he would need to step outside the morgue more often.
“But what will you do while we’re at the clinic?” Oliver asked, keeping his voice neutral, though Felipe understood his meaning. How will you stay close?
“If you’re meant to be well-to-do, you would have a driver. I’ll stop by the costumes closet and find something. No one pays attention to the help, so I’ll stay outside, watch the building, and if things go south, I can intervene.”
“Perfect. Now, let’s get our story straight.”
***
OLIVER HATED THIS.He hated everything about this. In the front seat, Felipe wore a grey chauffeur’s uniform, complete with a cap and long, leather boots. Oliver hated how the moment they entered the steamer and drove toward the Institute for the Betterment of the Soul, Felipe was no longer himself. If his outfit and bland demeanor hadn’t been so jarring, Oliver would have forgotten he wasn’t a hired driver. Even Ansley was different. He carried himself straighter and with harder edges, unlike his usual state where he seemed to pour into every chair. He could almost believe this Ansley had a wife, though he instructed Oliver to remember to call him Daniel Morgan and that their sister was Lucy Morgan, a telekinetic who turned against her husband and family after the birth of their second child.
The urge to shake out his hands or pull at his collar grew with every block they traveled, but Oliver stuffed his hands under his thighs. Ansley had insisted he not dress “like an undertaker,” as if he had any other clothes besides the ones he routinely wore. His past lover had been annoyed to find that Oliver had donated the more stylish clothing he had bought him years ago to Bennett Reynard’s social causes the moment Ansley left the society. Now, he was stuck in Ansley’s borrowed clothes pretending to be Dr. Alfred Owens. At least being a fussy doctor wasn’t so far off from who he really was that he couldn’t pretend for a little while, but the unfamiliar cut and fabric of his clothing wasn’t helping his anxiety.
There was a reason he gave up practicing medicine almost as quickly as he began: hospitals were a nightmare. The smells of disinfectant and disease, the moaning of patients, the clamor of equipment and nurses, the eternal nudge of his powers. It was all too much. He had been forced to remember that when he ended up in the hospital needing surgery after he and Felipe returned from the conjured island. He checked himself out as soon as he could, and it wasn’t an experience he was eager to repeat as a doctor or patient. Beyond anything, he hoped this place was small and that the doctor was a poor man’s Weir Mitchell, prescribing bedrest and corn flakes to hypochondriacs. Any hope of that was dashed as they pulled up in front of a colonnaded building that took up half the block. To match the stateliness of the neighborhood, the clinic had been bedecked in Doric columns and a gleaming stone façade. It wasn’t as large as Bellevue or the Cancer Hospital, but it certainly wasn’t a quack running a clinic in his parlor.
“Let’s not keep them waiting,” Ansley grumbled as he threw open the door. At Oliver’s tense expression, he rolled his eyes. “You need to get your shit together,Owens. There’s no reason for you to go in there looking like you’re afraid of your own shadow. You’re a stickler for rules; pretend you’re here to check that everything complies with whatever standards doctors are supposed to adhere to. If you can’t manage that, stay in the steamer until I’m done.”
Oliver ground his teeth. The head inspector didn’t think he could do his job, so of course, Ansley would think he was useless as well. What else did he expect? As Oliver looked uncertainly between the backseat and the door, Felipe locked eyes with him through the rearview mirror. For a long moment, he merely held Oliver’s gaze, but it loosened the knot in his chest like an embrace. If Felipe thought he could do it, he would do his best to get through it. Squaring his shoulders, Oliver drew in a resolute breath. Neither Ansley nor the head inspector were going to ruin the life he and Felipe were carving out, and if Ansley wanted him to be his brusque doctor brother-in-law, then he would let spite snuff out his doubts.
As Oliver followed Ansley onto the street, the other man rolled his eyes and let out an annoyed sigh. Perhaps Ansley’s partner had the right idea. He couldn’t imagine working with Ansley was easy, even when he was on his best behavior. Pushing through the double doors, Oliver braced himself for the chaos he might meet on the inside, but the foyer was orderly and clean. His eyes roamed over the rugs covering the polished stone floors and the whitewashed cornices and moldings. While he had never been there before, it was familiar as it reminded him of his days at the medical college: well-to-do but not too opulent or ostentatious, with an air of clinical simplicity, the mark of a gentleman physician.
At the front desk near the door, stood a mousy-haired woman in a plain blue frock with thick glasses. Several of the sybils had similar glasses as their magic traded sight for the sight. She gave them a onceover and smiled placidly. “How may I help you, gentlemen?”
