Noble gave her a coin—well more than he had given the others—and Daise shuffled away.
“Why don’t we have her tell the magistrate? They’ll have to at least submit it at his trial.”
Noble shook his head, watching Daise set up on her corner with a complicated expression. “They would no more believe her than they would believe you were you to walk inside and declare him innocent.”
“Why? Her story matches Kennen’s and—”
He released my arm and turned to lift my chin. He tilted my head gently as he searched my eyes. “It does you credit to think she is a valid source of information, even if it’s only because you’re desperate to free your brother. But most people would not trust a drunken prostitute. Would you have two weeks ago?”
I blinked at him. “I don’t know.”
I hadn’t even thought about prostitutes, drunken or not, two weeks ago. “That could be me on the corner were thingsdifferent.” I swallowed. “Or if they go differently, it still could. I would want someone to believe me.”
His eyes fell into shadow beneath the gaslight. “If—”
“Isn’t this touching. A broker and hisladynegotiating together on the street.”
Noble stiffened. We both turned to see the inquisitor standing on Daise’s corner. She must have beaten a hasty retreat.
The inquisitor’s gaze ran between us. “I’ve been watching the both of you. Stirring up trouble? Should I arrest you for harassment or should I try and discover your larger scheme?”
“You have nothing with which to arrest us.” Noble tipped his head, keeping his face away from the light.
Dresden strode forward. “I don’t need much.”
“Even an inquisitor needs evidence, and you might need more than most. Little trouble with your last case, from what I hear.”
The inquisitor stopped a few feet away. His eyes narrowed. “I thoroughly document everything. There is never anything wrong with my evidence.”
“More than five hundred captures to your name. And at such a young age. How do you find the time?”
The inquisitor’s eyes sharpened and fear spiked through me. What was Noble doing? He might be wealthy and weirdly powerful for anon, but an inquisitor could make justice bow.
“You seem to have an advantage over me,” Dresden said. “What is your name?”
“Master Terrence Jones. Not at your service.” Noble mock saluted.
“A smart one, I see,” Dresden said distastefully. “Why are you asking about the Vein Ripper?”
“My lady has taken an interest. And I make sure to sateallher curiosities.”
Gross. I dredged up a smarmy smile. I hated gossip chasers most of all.
The inquisitor gave a disgusted look and turned away, but his head whipped back, eyes narrowing on me. “And what is her name?”
Obnoxious toad. Not even asking me the question, as if a woman couldn’t have two solid thoughts between her ears.
“Mistress Cornelia Jones. No relation.” Noble smiled, posture lazy, his look sly.
The inquisitor continued his assessment, gaze piercing. “I don’t believe that her name at all. But I don’t plan on seeing either of you again. Do you understand?”
“Of course, most honorable inquisitor.”
Dresden stiffened, but turned and left.
I exhaled. “I think he might have recognized me.”
Noble straightened to his full height, pretense dropping like a shed cloak. “Agreed. Just our luck to have Arthur Dresden on this case. It makes our task more difficult.”
