“You can’t, but I can. Well, I can sense it, is perhaps a better way of putting it.”
“Impressive,” Oscar said.
“No thanks to you,” Miss Wheeler shot back. “I almost didn’t get the chance.”
“I didn’t know you could send a chalk dust trail to follow a particular target, let alone follow that invisible trail.”
“Not invisible. Not to me.”
Oscar didn’t seem cross at being chastised. Indeed, he continued to glance at Miss Wheeler as he kept pace with her. It was clear he was impressed by her skill, perhaps even in awe of her. I also suspected he was wondering if he could incorporate any of the words from her spell into his ink one. He could make his ink float, but as far as I was aware, he couldn’t make it follow someone and then follow its trail merely by using his magical sense.
There were fewer people in the side street but it was still busy, being so close to the Royal Mile. I couldn’t make out who we were following, but Miss Wheeler didn’t break stride. She was confident we were heading in the right direction, and that boosted my confidence. The swift pace was beginning to take its toll on me, however. My breathing was more labored, my brow damp at the hairline. I removed my hat so it didn’t become sweaty at the band. My two companions didn’t seem to be affected.
“I knew it!” Oscar touched his right ear. “I felt something pass my ear when the cannon went off. I think it was a bullet. The shooter must have timed their shot with the cannon.”
Good lord. If the bullet hadn’t missed… Oscar could have… I reached out a hand to grasp onto him lest I succumb to the dizziness that suddenly overwhelmed me.
“Why didn’t you say something?” Miss Wheeler asked Oscar.
“You distracted me.”
“How?”
“You asked me to take a good look at you. Anyway, it was you who said you knew someone was following us, so I’m not the only one who didn’t act on their instincts.”
“At least I mentioned it.”
I cleared my throat to get their attention. “Er, may we concentrate, please. Miss Wheeler, do you still have the chalk’s scent?”
“I do.” She pointed down another lane and we all headed that way, our pace somewhere between a rapid walk and a trot. We turned again, and I could have sworn we were heading back to the Royal Mile.
“Considering you thought we were being followed after we left Mr. Kinloch’s residence, he should be our number one suspect.” I sucked in a breath to steady my nerves and refill my lungs. I wasn’t used to so much exertion. “Redmayne wasn’t there, so we can exclude him.”
“We only have Kinloch’s word on that,” Oscar pointed out.
Miss Wheeler turned again and headed up a set of stairs that went on and on, eventually narrowing into a covered close. It was so narrow I could stretch out my arms and touch the cool stone walls. The air smelled dank with an underlying putridity of sewage, and I hated to think what was making the cobblestones slippery underfoot.
Miss Wheeler suddenly stopped, raising a finger to silence us even though neither Oscar nor I had uttered a word. The only sound came from my labored breathing. There was no one there.
We’d lost the gunman.
Chapter 13
Still reluctant to speak lest I break Miss Wheeler’s concentration, I tapped Oscar on the arm to get his attention. I lifted my hands, palms up, in a question. What should we do now? Continue onward, out of the close? Or try one of the doors? We’d passed several on the way up the steps, and there were more in the covered section. As I was considering our options, a door behind us opened and a woman emerged. Her tired eyes watched us with suspicion as her bony fingers gripped the door.
Miss Wheeler went to speak to her and returned moments later. The woman went on her way, basket over her arm.
“Did you ask her if she saw someone?” Oscar asked.
Miss Wheeler shook her head and indicated a wooden door with an iron handle near where we’d stopped. “I asked her what’s in there.”
“Did the gunman go inside?”
“He did.”
“How do you know?” I asked.
“There are faint traces of my chalk dust in the air there and on the doorknob.”
