Noble motioned to me and I scampered out of the office—my purse pressed against my chest in a parody of Hackenstay’s clutched globe, and the man’s pistol gripped tightly in my fist.
I didn’t know how Noble removed himself from the office without leaving himself open to retaliation, but he emerged with his five-shot in one hand and Tannett’s one-shot in the other, and nudged me toward the door.
As soon as we stepped onto the sidewalk, he stowed the three pistols and set a brisk pace. He didn’t slow until we were fivedocks and a bridge past. He checked the spellglass and glanced behind, but my mind was frozen. As soon as he shortened his steps, the bustling streets and busier areas near the river snapped into view again. We stepped past Blackened Bridge and a wave of emotion rocketed through me.
“You just threatened them with a five-shot pistol. I thinkIjust threatened them with one. We got the money back. They returned it.” One shaking step tipped me into the next. “I feel so…vibrant.”
His gaze was cynical. “Delayed reaction. Don’t do anything stupid because of it.”
But not even his words could bring me down. I barely noticed as we cashed the draft and made our way back home.
Home. As if I would ever have a real one again. But this one at least had rosemary and dill bread, incredible stews, and a man who could right our wrongs. My wrist throbbed the tiniest bit.
And that was well more than I’d had a week past.
~*~
My calves twinged a bit as we made our way to another section of town after a quick stop to eat. I was used to a lot of walking, but we’d briskly strode the entire midsection of Gildon today.
I followed Noble into a plain building and down a hall to a door labeledrecords. Noble pushed inside and a lanky man with large glasses looked up.
“Master Noble!”
“Good afternoon, Phineas. Are you busy?”
Phineas pushed aside his papers and spread his hands. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m looking for information on the Vein Ripper case.”
Phineas’s sharp gaze swung to me, then back to Noble. “I see. There’s not much. The case has confounded all the branches. Was a relief to most that they might have the culprit in custody.”
“I figured as much. What do you have? Any previous suspects?”
Phineas motioned to the two chairs in front of his desk and tapped his pen on the oak surface. “There were three. The first victim’s husband was the main suspect in that one, until he was accounted for by twenty different witnesses—attended some business function during the time of the murder. The blame quickly moved to his business partner, who wasnotat the function. That thread of inquiry got destroyed when there was a second victim. The business partner was in Cornwall when the second was murdered—his story solid. There were two men in the parish area around the second murder, Orly Dawkins and a sweep—questioned but not held. The sweep checked out clean, but Dawkins is one you might want to revisit. The inquisitors were leery of him, even though he passed inquiry. Behavior described as ‘suspicious.’”
“Why did they not get thrown straight into Montranc, the same treatment as my—as Kennen Winters?” I blurted.
Noble didn’t glare this time, but I detected something close to a sigh in his expression. Phineas gave me a measuring glance, though his eyes were still friendly, projecting a quick mind hidden behind a non-threatening air.
“The inquisitors were much more desperate by the third victim. The second victim, anonymous, had no identifiable links to the first victim or identifiable things on her at all. The parish patrollers who found her body quit the next day. Heard what was done to her was nothing short of gruesome.”
“Which is why the second victim hasn’t been identified?” Noble clarified.
Phineas nodded. “There are artist sketches at Coroner’s Court of both the first and second victims after they were cleaned. May want to have a look or see if you can obtain copies.”
“And the third?”
“Possibly. Though I heard they rushed the body through.”
“Suspicious.”
My throat tightened at Noble’s tone.Kennen. I wished we could make everythingdisappear.
“Or frightened.” Phineas stopped looking between us, attention suddenly solely focused on Noble.
“Who was the first victim?”
“Iris Sinclair. Lord Tenth’s Lady Sinclair.”
