The guard’s hand closed around the piece, but he looked around before nodding. “Five minutes.”
I flashed another smile. “Thank you, my good man.”
Members of the court, inquisitors, patrolmen, and watchmen—some looking a bit green—packed the crowd. Recognizing a few from our recent excursions and my previous cases, I kept my head bent.
Blood had soaked through most of the cloth covering the body. I tucked Marietta farther behind me. She could look if she wanted, or be spared.
A man was cleaning the victim’s battered face, which was bared above the cloth. Another man was making notes, and they were talking back and forth.
“Bruising on her wrists. Matches the second victim. The first and third were without. Blow to the head. Spiritual veins rippedcompletely free, just like all the others. Opened at the midsection in order to—”
I let the words wash over me. The wet cloth was moving along the victim’s cheek and something stirred inside me. A sliver of fear.
The cheekbones of the woman were crushed, but there was something very familiar about her. Her brown hair was matted, but I could see a pearl comb hanging from a tangled lock of hair.
“Interesting cuts around her necklace—”
No.
“—emeralds, do you think? Someone with money.”
It couldn’t be.
“As if someone was outlining it. Taunting? Maybe a gift from a lover?”
A gift from her rich father. Flaunted and taunted. The report from my investigator had said she’d never parted with it even after the family money had dwindled away.
A forehead was wiped free of blood, a pointed chin. The sheet slipped to the side to reveal the emerald-and-gold necklace lying heavy and dull at her throat. Covered by blood and set on a crusted red riverbed.
Crash. A small table toppled on the floor next to me, its contents spilling across the floor.
I had to get out of here.
I stumbled from the room, barely registering Marietta clutching my hand asking if I was ill.
“Poor bloke! Best get him home, mistress. ‘Tis a ghastly sight.”
One of many faces I had hoped never to see again. Not that I particularly cared that she was dead. I hated her. Hated them all. But I had separated myself from my past long ago.
“Gabriel?” Marietta whispered.
Her voice came from far away, though there was a hand on my arm and another around my waist. I forced my eyes closed, then opened them again slowly as I’d been trained to do. To show no emotion. To show no affect.
I straightened. The hallway stretched in front of me toward the staircase. “Upstairs.” Better to keep communications short until I could untangle my thoughts.
Where was my father? When had Lucian’s break begun? Where had my investigator gone? I hadn’t received a report in…over a month.
No.
It could be a coincidence. Or a nightmare. I had to see the sketches from the other murders.
I pounded against the door that readFranklin Lewis.
Frank opened the door, eyes widening. “Master Noble! I received your note. Are you unwell?”
“I’m not unwell, Frank.” I pulled Marietta in behind me as he closed the door. “I need a favor. I can pay.”
“‘Course you won’t pay! My last favor didn’t pay my due. What can I do for you?”
