“What if the gendarmes have taken over his lodgings?” he asked nervously.
“Then we will discover a way around them. Brewster will help us.”
Brewster grimaced at my pronouncement but he nodded. “I know ways to keep the beaks off our scent.”
“Beaks?” Emile’s forehead puckered. “You keep using that word.”
“Magistrates,” Brewster explained. “The watch, the gendarmes, the Runners—whatever they’re called. Because they stick their beaks in everywhere, right?”
Emile looked uncertain, but he nodded.
“Gabriella,” I said, trying sound like a strict father. “La Guillotière will be no place for you.”
Gabriella regarded me serenely. “I did not expect to accompany you. I promised Maman I would stay in tonight, and that is what I will do. I won’t have much longer to be at home, will I?”
Emile’s sudden blush made me both want to laugh and to shake him.
I turned away to keep my impulses in check. “We’d better go at once,” I said. “Vernet is an astute man and possibly has turned over Gallo’s place already.”
“True enough,” Brewster said. “But it can’t hurt to have a butcher’s.”
I was pleased Brewster agreed. I wanted him with me, not only because he could protect Emile in La Guillotière, but because the man had an uncanny knack of turning up things that others overlooked. When I’d first met him, he’d been ransacking my house in Norfolk, where he’d found silver pieces for which the nearby villagers had been searching for years.
The four of us trudged back down the hill toward the house, Gabriella now firmly at Emile’s side. Once in the drive, while our hired coach creaked forward to fetch us, Gabriella squeezed Emile’s hands, kissed me goodnight, said her farewells to Brewster, and skimmed into the house.
Brewster rode on the back of the coach as we headed to Lyon, which left Emile awkwardly inside the carriage with me. He continued to apologize for not confiding in me right away, and I spent the journey trying to reassure him.
The coachman deposited us on the La Guillotière side of the Rhône. Emile led Brewster and me through narrow streets beyond the tavern in which he and Claude had met, to a crumbling building whose windows were closed with black shutters.
The last of the evening’s light faded as Emile rapped on the front door.
This was wrenched open by a gnarled personage whose sex I could not determine. I saw only breeches and a tattered coat, in spite of the warm weather, and gloves on cramped fingers.
When the creature raised her head, I realized it was a woman, her grizzled hair framing a curiously plump and pretty face.
She looked Emile up and down with steel-gray eyes. “It’s you again, is it?”
“Yes, Madame Jourdain,” Emile said politely. “Do you mind if I go once more into Signor Gallo’s rooms?”
“Why? Do ye want to let them?” Madame Jourdain spat on the pavement, too close to my boot for my liking. “Gendarmes have been all through his lodging and tell me not to rent it right away, but I can’t afford to leave it empty.”
“Well, no, Madame, but …”
When the woman started to shut the door, I stepped forward. “My man might be interested.” I jerked a thumb at Brewster.
The woman scowled at Brewster, who scowled back, uncertain what we’d said. Finally, she gave me a curt nod and flung the door open.
“He knows the way.” Madame Jourdain took a jingling key from her pocket and held it out to Emile. “Was the signor’s great friend.” She emphasized the last words and cackled unpleasantly.
Emile flushed, pretending to ignore her. He led the way across the hallway’s very dirty tile floor and up a rickety staircase.
We ascended this all the way to the top of the house, the air growing warmer and stuffier as we went. It must be suffocating on a hot day.
The door Emile paused before looked solid enough, with an iron handle and a stout lock.
This door stood open a crack. The wood around the lock hadn’t been broken, but the room had been entered, probably by someone good with a picklock.
I started to push it open, but Brewster shouldered his way past me to do it himself. The door’s wood grated against the uneven floor, startling the person already inside.
