Her voice was cool, amused. “You’ll bet on how long it takes to wash my hands.”
“You’ll make these good folks think I’m a degenerate gambler, partner.”
The woman made a shooing motion. “I appreciate your keeping Miss Wright and Mr. Leonidas entertained with your impression of an inspector. Now why don’t you go away and let us work?”
Shelton’s face went red. “One of these days, Miss Ritsuko, I will be very sorry to hear that this job has gotten the best of you.”
False. Aurelia’s truth-sense told her that Shelton would celebrate if something awful happened to his colleague. She took a step back, bumping against Leo, whose hands lit on her shoulders, steadying her. Possibly it wasn’t fair to drag him into this when he had so much to deal with already: his bereavement, the scars, a struggling theater. Or maybe this was exactly what he needed—a reason to step outside his own problems.
The two pairs of agents stared at each other long and hard, before Cutler sidled away. “This is a waste of time. You want to coddle her? Go ahead.”
“Miss Wright,” Mikani said gently. “I apologize. Those two aren’t smart enough to find their own arses with a map and a compass.”
“Let’s go to the lounge,” Ritsuko suggested.
Leo nodded. “Better than an interrogation room.”
Aurelia registered the silent look the two inspectors exchanged. It consisted of an arched brow, a canted head, and a moue of Mikani’s mouth. If she was interpreting the silent conversation correctly, it went something like this:
Let’s not leave them with that impression of the CID.
Agreed. If Leonidas came out of seclusion with her, it must be important.
Right. Tea, then. And we’ll see.
She wondered if the two realized the extent of their rapport; such communication took years to develop. But she was too worried about her own situation to pry into theirs. Five minutes later, she settled into a fairly comfortable chair with a warm mug. Leo sat beside her, seeming marginally more comfortable than he’d been with the other two. These officers had enraged him, but he’d overlook the prior offense for Aurelia’s peace of mind.
“You look shaken,” Ritsuko said softly. “Is this related to Miss Aevar’s death?”
Oh. Of course they think that.
“No. At least, I don’t believe so.” It hadn’t occurred to her that Theron could be connected to the girls who had been murdered.
Yet, he is a killer . . . She knew the difference between a man murdering in cold blood and one acting in self-defense, but he had been so brutal. A civilized man would’ve subdued his attackers, if he could, then called the authorities. Theron’s actions left her fearing the worst.
Mikani smiled. “Take your time. The longer we sit with you, the longer I get to put off my paperwork.”
His humor helped; and his partner got out a notebook, proving they didn’t think she was making up stories for attention. This time, she gave her account without the nervous stammering that led Shelton and Cutler to imagine she was a crackpot. Mikani and Ritsuko listened with somber expressions; and this time, she didn’t censor the story at all. Leo pressed her arm when she described Theron’s hands changing, growing ferocious talons, but she wouldn’t recant.
It happened. I’m not out of my mind.
“That’s quite a story,” Mikani said, once she finished.
Hot color washed her cheeks. “I know how it sounds.”
Ritsuko studied her with quiet sympathy. “It was dark. Perhaps you saw some knives and thought—”
“No. I’ve never seen magic like that, nothing so powerful, but I’m not crazy.”
“Why were you following him?” Mikani asked.
That was the question the other inspectors hadn’t thought to ask. It also rendered her testimony even shakier. But before she could respond, Leo cut in, “There are four corpses down in the Patchwork. What do you mean to do?”
Aurelia held up a hand, indicating her friend should stand down. “No, it’s fine. I wouldn’t have told the other two, but Inspectors Ritsuko and Mikani deserve the truth.”
She explained the whole story—Theron’s sudden appearance and romantic overtures, her suspicions about his plans, and how she’d taken steps to uncover his true agenda. By the time she finished, the male inspector was studying her as if he couldn’t decide on an appropriate reaction.
Finally, he said, “That was . . . enterprising, but ultimately unwise.”
“I had no idea the night would end in so much death,” she snapped.
The female inspector nodded. “Likely you thought you’d catch him meeting with whoever pointed him in your direction.”
Aurelia eased back into her chair, relieved that someone understood. “Precisely; some crony of my father’s, perhaps. I thought he might even be behind Theron’s courtship.”
“He?” Mikani asked.
“My father.”
The two traded another weighted look, then Ritsuko said, “You’re a House scion?”
“My name is legally Aurelia Wright. I haven’t claimed any House affiliation in many years.”
“And what about this Theron? Is he a House scion as well?” Mikani inquired.
She shrugged. “I’ve no idea. I was trying to learn more about him when . . . this happened. I won’t be pursuing his acquaintance further, I assure you.”
“I understand,” Ritsuko said. “We’ll send officers to check the morgue. If four bodies have turned up, as you claim, then we’ll pick Mr. Theron up.”
Mikani added, “But if I’m honest, it’s your word against his. He could claim you killed them, and that’s how you knew of the murders.”
Terror clenched her stomach into a knot. “Oh, bronze gods. Will he know that I reported him?”
“Don’t worry.” Ritsuko patted her hand gently. “It’s our policy to keep such matters confidential.”
Aurelia pushed out a hard breath, the cup and saucer clattering in her lap. “If there’s nothing further, I’d like to go home.”
Both inspectors stood, but Mikani spoke. “You’ve given us ample information. We’ll handle it from here.”
She nodded and shook both their hands, then Leo escorted her from the building. “They seemed to take it more seriously at least.”
“Thanks for coming with me.”
He put a protective arm around her shoulders, more like her old friend than he had been since before the accident. Aurelia had thought that man lost forever, drowned in bitterness and loss. “As if I’d let you go through it alone. I’ll see you to your apartment.”
“You don’t have to—”
“Auri,” he said in a tone that brooked no refusal.
A tiny part was glad to see this Leo back. So she didn’t argue. “Very well.”
• • •
LATER, AFTER A bath, she felt much better. Leo had arranged with Hargrave for a meal. The covered platters arrived just after she stepped out of the bedroom, dressed in a clean, simple shirtwaist. Leo was arranging the food on her table as she joined him. Before the accident, they had spent many such evenings.
You’re not the only one who’s been lonely. She’d tried to convey that his looks didn’t matter, but little by little, he’d pulled back until they were barely even friends, more business partners tied by the Royale. Yet he’d come through for her last night and braved his fear of mockery today. He considered himself a monster and expected the world to confirm his fear. It was cowardice that kept him down in that dungeon, paying a woman to pretend to care about him.
“Elaine will be furious,” she said, perching on the edge of the settee.
The broth smelled wonderful, light and clear. Surprise touched her with feathery awareness; he’d remembered that she couldn’t eat a heavy meal after an emotional upset. First, something light, followed by bread. Once her stomach settled, she’d manage more.
“Let me worry about her. And to be honest, I’m too concerned about you to care for her pique.”
He l
ounged on her settee, studying her through the confines of the dark mask, and she hated not being able to see his eyes. The black fabric contrasted with his fair hair, and she leaned forward to whisper, “Take it off, Leo. You don’t need it here. Not with me.” She’d said as much before, but not with such a heartfelt plea.
His tone was light. “You’ve been through enough, Auri. I don’t want to put you off your food.”
“And I need to see your face.”
For a moment, she thought he’d refuse. His jaw pulled tight, and he strode over to the window. She half expected him to pull the drapes against the sunlight. Then he reached up with trembling hands to unfasten the ties. When he turned, there was an awful vulnerability about him, as if he expected her—his best friend—to turn away.
Yes, the scars were ugly, but it was good to see his blue eyes again. She moved to his side, stretched up on tiptoe, and kissed his poor cheek. “Do you believe me?”
He seemed incredulous at first, then grateful that she wanted to talk about her own problems rather than this rare moment. “Of course I do. You never lie.”
Leo knew about her gift, and though he wasn’t always honest, he offered tactful half-truths. She forgave him that for the long years of their friendship, for all the laughter. The latter had been scarce in the past six months, but he had a plateful of sorrow, and he couldn’t step away.
“He’ll be back . . . and I don’t know—” Her voice broke, so she tried again. “The stupid thing is, when he appeared, I knew there was something off. I suspected him of wanting to use me.”
“More than one man has tried over the years.”
Leo had comforted her numerous times when a romance turned out to be largely calculation and wishful thinking. That was before she learned to focus her gift on those who courted her. These days, it was impossible to catch her unaware, provided she held a conversation with the person first. So she’d been confident she could handle Theron.
In retrospect, that was a mistake.
“What should I do?”
“Stay away from him,” he answered at once. “Don’t speak to him. If he approaches you, call for help. I’ll escort you to and from the theater.”
“That will be a lot of bother for you.”
“Not if you let me stay here.” His expression made her think her agreement was vital to his well-being. Then he sighed, watching her eat. “Really, Auri, what possessed you? Following a man to the Patchwork warrens, protected only by a back-alley charm?”
“Would it be better if I’d purchased the necklace in Temple?”
“No,” Leo snapped. “I’m furious with you, but until today, you were too upset to withstand a scolding.”
She arched a brow, smiling. “But you think I can handle one now?”
“Let’s find out, shall we?”
He proceeded with the most glorious rant, impugning her common sense, intelligence, and her forethought before winding down to scowl at her. He was completely unself-conscious. No pacing to angle his scars away from her, away from the light. They were still raised and livid, purple and red. They were no prettier, but he finally trusted her to see past them. Aurelia smiled.
His frown deepened. “Are you even listening to me? This isn’t a negligible matter. It sounds as if this Theron sought you out for no good purpose. I fear his intentions.”
“So do I.”
A chill went through her when she saw it again in her mind’s eye—the claws in the swirling darkness, his avid face. It had been hard to explain this part to the authorities, but he’d taken such pleasure in dispatching his enemies, a primitive, atavistic joy. He hadn’t been frightened during that fight, quite the contrary; he had played with his attackers, exulting in their terror and defeat.
“You’re still unsettled,” he realized aloud. “Do you have anything to drink?”
“A liquid cure for what ails me?”
“Wine if you have some, enough to help you relax. Perhaps you’ll sleep. You haven’t rested much the past few days.”
An understatement. She feared she had prevented him from doing so either. Each night, she’d jerked awake, replaying the deaths in her head. Such a reaction made her feel weak, but surely it was understandable. Nothing in her life had prepared her for such brutality, as if to Theron, those men weren’t human at all.
“I’ll look in the cupboard.” Her flat was modest, four rooms above the club.
Shortly, she returned with two flutes and a bottle of dusty wine. “It was a gift from my father, long ago. I was supposed to drink it to celebrate something, I think. It’s all I have, so I hope it’s good.”
“I’m sure it will be. It’s the effect that matters anyway.”
“Will you do the honors?”
“Of course.” He took the corkscrew from her and examined the wine. “Are you sure, Auri? This is an incredibly expensive vintage.”
“I’m sure. Let’s live dangerously.”
“Seems to me you already are.”
The pop of the cork sounded like a gunshot in her quiet apartment. Her nerves jangled as he poured two glasses. Then Leo raised his in apparent toast, but his eyes were somber. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.
So he truly does fear for my life. That wasn’t any comfort at all.
CHAPTER 21
MIKANI DRAINED THE LAST OF THE BITTER COFFEE DREGS IN his cup and grimaced. His partner walked over to his desk, attaché case in hand. Ritsuko’s paperwork hadn’t been touched since they came back last night. That was . . . quite unlike her. He hoped she wasn’t hurt too badly.
It had been a grueling three hours in that dark barn, avoiding more snares and traps. In the end, it was worthwhile. Deep drag marks indicated where the apparatus had been hauled onto a waiting cart. There’s no way it was fully assembled, however. Mikani hated knowing there was another murder machine out there, ready to claim a third victim.
“Well,” she said. “We have blueprints . . . for all that helps us.”
“We already knew where the parts came from. And where they delivered them.”
“Somebody took the contraption back to the city,” she pointed out. “I can send word to all the companies that operate outside Dorstaad city limits—”
He slammed a fist against his desk. “He moved it himself, somehow. Someone would come forward for the reward if they’d helped him haul those damned things around the city.”
“Then I don’t know where else to look,” she whispered.
Mikani sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know. I—I’m sorry.” And tired. Frustrated. And damned be, if I didn’t almost lose you to that bastard. “We need to stop him—before he uses that thing on another girl.”
She set a hand on his arm. “We’re doing everything we can.”
“I know. Just wish it were enough, partner.” He let out a long sigh.
“Well. It’s not a direct link to locating Toombs, but . . . if you’re willing, I’d like to follow up on a lead I got last week.”
Mikani glanced wearily at his stack of reports. “We’re expecting the initial findings on the owners of the farm. And Miss Wright’s incident report looks likely to land in our laps as soon as we hear back from the morgue. So while we’re waiting . . .” He stood, pushing the pile of papers to the center of his desk. “Let’s go.”
“When I interviewed Toombs’s mother, she told me to talk to her neighbor because the woman is an inveterate snoop. From Mrs. Drusse I did learn some things about Mr. Toombs.” She ticked them off on her fingers. “Toombs didn’t visit his mother enough. He regularly had disreputable callers who harassed his parents. And I got the name of the man they work for.”
The lift door opened as they approached, discharging a tall man in a loose-fitting tweed jacket; he had a shock of ginger hair and plenty of freckles. After a moment, Mikani placed him as someone who worked downstairs, poking at the dead bodies. Higgins, he remembered. Refused to process some counterfeit Magnus whiskey when I didn’t file the
proper request. Bugger set us back an arrest to uphold the rules.
Before he could ask what Higgins wanted, the man approached Ritsuko and took her hand. “I just got word downstairs. Are you well?”
She smiled up at him. “Just a few cuts.”
“Have you seen a physician?” Higgins asked.
“I did, before I came in this morning.”
Looking as if he were being inexpressibly forward, Higgins pressed her fingers between his. “You should’ve taken the day off.”
Mikani observed the exchange with a growing mix of annoyance and confusion. Higgins knows Ritsuko . . . rather well, apparently. How the hells did that happen?
“We’re too close to the end. With the pressure the Summer Clan and House Aevar are applying, we’ll have Toombs soon. I can’t afford to be at home.”
Higgins still didn’t let go of Ritsuko. “Look after yourself. I worry about you.”
“Don’t you have enough to fret about without adding me to it? How’s your mother?” She was smiling, a friendly, open expression.
“Overall, not well. But she has good days.” At that point, he seemed to notice Mikani standing at Ritsuko’s shoulder. “Good afternoon, Inspector.” He made as if to tip a hat and apparently realized he wasn’t wearing one.
“I’ll see you Sunday if not before,” she said, as Higgins turned.
He watched Higgins get on the lift before turning to his partner. “You’re—” He made a vague gesture, shaking his head slowly. “. . . him?” Your eloquence is impressive, Mikani. Get a grip, man. “You’re keeping company with Mr. Higgins these days?”
Pedantic arse.
“Yes. He’s a gentleman. Unexpected, dry sense of humor as well.”
“For how long?” Not your concern. She’s your partner, and you’d do well to remember that. He couldn’t suppress the odd little twist somewhere deep inside, though. “I mean, I had no idea you’d started seeing anyone since Warren.”
“It’s only been a . . . week, I think.” She didn’t look sure. He understood that, as the days and nights ran together recently. “He asked me to luncheon as soon as he heard I was . . . unattached.”
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