Clocks and Daggers (The Thief's Apprentice Book 2) Page 9
“Why?” she gasped. “And how do you know about that?”
He chuckled. “I have good hearing. You help me, and I’ll help you. That’s how these things work.”
She was too dumbfounded to say any more. Hamlet was . . . helping her? A jingling bell brought her gaze back to the cafe. Arhyen had exited, and was preparing to cross the street.
“I fear I must bid you adeiu,” Hamlet whispered. “And Liliana?”
“Yes?” she squeaked.
“I like your disguise.” There was the softest hint of footsteps as he retreated.
Unable to resist, she peeked once more down the alleyway. Hamlet was gone.
She nearly jumped out of her skin, sensing a presence to her right. Seeing Arhyen, she breathed a sigh of relief. He leaned against the wall of the bakery a few feet from her, gazing out toward the street.
As soon as a young couple had passed out of earshot, he whispered, “I’m beginning to think this price on my head will be more of an issue than I originally thought. Did you learn anything while I was away?”
She shivered, thinking how close Hamlet had been just seconds before. “I’m really not sure,” she muttered.
Arhyen glanced at her for a moment, then turned his gaze forward as an older couple passed by. Once they were out of earshot, he whispered, “Let’s try your tactic of conversing with the lowlives. I’ll watch your back.”
Liliana nodded subtly. Normally she would have been excited, but a cold knot of fear had taken up residence in her stomach. Hamlet’s presence had unsettled her. It was strange, but she found she understood humans far more than she did her fellow automaton.
As evening approached, they gave up their fruitless quest for information and headed back home. Liliana was beyond disappointed. She’d hoped to at least learn something about Allistair Walmsley that could help Arhyen. They’d managed to confirm the price on his head, but little else. At least Hamlet would continue working on her side of the case regarding hearsay of her mother, if his offer was in fact genuine, though she was unsure what she’d do with any information he might find. She was yet to inform Arhyen of her encounter with him, and was not sure she ever would. Something told her it would only cause problems.
They reached the door to find Ephraim waiting for them, dressed in his standard charcoal trousers, waistcoat, and jacket, complimented by the scowl on his face. “What on earth are you wearing?” he questioned as they approached, his gaze on Liliana.
“She’s too easily recognizable,” Arhyen explained, moving past Ephraim to unlock the door.
Ephraim rolled his eyes. “Well fortunately it seems no one has heard anything about this woman claiming to be Liliana’s mother, though everyone knows about the price on your head.”
“Of course they do,” Arhyen muttered, opening the door.
The trio walked inside, each stepping over the tripwire in turn.
Liliana watched as Arhyen examined the apartment for signs of intruders. Apparently finding no notable clues, he walked into the kitchen where Ephraim was filling the kettle. “Do you have any news to share?” Arhyen asked snarkily. “Or did you just come over to drink all of our tea?”
Ephraim lit the burner and placed the kettle on the stove. “Another body has been discovered,” he explained.
Arhyen sighed. “Male, late teens, lacerations like all of the others?”
Ephraim raised an eyebrow at him. “Well at least this time the LN alerted the Watch about the body.”
Liliana shooed them both out of the kitchen so she could finish the tea while Arhyen questioned, “The LN?”
“There was an anonymous tip about the body’s location,” Ephraim explained as both men sat on the sofa. “Since you already knew of the latest corpse, I imagine the information was provided by Hamlet.”
The conversation paused, and it took Liliana a moment to realize Ephraim was staring at her, patiently waiting for her attention. She turned to fully face them both, taking in Arhyen’s thoughtful, or was it suspicious, expression before placing her gaze on Ephraim.
Now with everyone’s full attention, Ephraim continued his explanation. “The recently discovered body belonged to Lester Burbank, Martin Burbank’s son.”
The name instantly connected in Liliana’s mind. Martin Burbank was the man she and Ephraim had met with the previous day, the one claiming he’d been hired by the LN to guard a warehouse filled with medical equipment.
“We need to find Martin,” she muttered as the kettle behind her began to steam.
“I tried,” Ephraim replied. “Either he’s become more skilled at concealing himself, or he’s dead.”
“So we have no one to lead us to this warehouse?” Arhyen questioned.
Ephraim shrugged. “Using Martin’s previous home address, I’ve narrowed down the possible options for a concealed warehouse. He mentioned during our meeting that he was able to walk to the warehouse from his home, an added bonus since he didn’t have to pay for transportation. This is also why he believed the LN responsible for his son’s disappearance. They knew where he lived.”
Liliana turned to finish preparing the tea, mulling over what Ephraim had said while Arhyen continued to question him about Martin.
Once she’d placed three filled teacups on a small tray, she left the kitchen area and approached the sofa. “There’s one thing I don’t understand,” she interrupted, setting the tea tray onto the low table.
Both Ephraim and Arhyen gazed at her, prompting her to continue.
“Martin’s son went missing weeks ago,” she explained, “but the corpse in the photos appeared to be freshly dead.”
Ephraim nodded, then took his teacup in hand. “Yes, he must have been kept alive until recently.”
Liliana’s breath hitched. She hadn’t thought of that. “Do you think . . . ” she trailed off.
“Yes,” Ephraim replied, “the initial incisions were made while he was still alive, though they seem to have been re-opened post-mortem, likely to fully remove the organs, as they were missing from the body.”
“Well that fits with our theories,” Arhyen muttered, leaning back against the sofa cushion with his tea in hand. He seemed to have sunk into a contemplative fugue, and wasn’t looking at either of them as he spoke.
Ephraim raised an eyebrow at Liliana. “Care to explain what he’s talking about?”
She took a seat on the floor, crossing her legs comfortably in her trousers, then lifted her tea, appreciating the comforting warmth against her hands. “We were speculating that perhaps the grave-robbers were stealing organs in an attempt to alter them for further use, either to make automatons, or to implant them into the living. Perhaps they attempted to place altered organs inside of Mr. Burbank’s son while he was alive, but the experiment failed and he perished. Post-mortem, it would make sense to retrieve the organs for further experimentation.”
Ephraim shook his head. “Just when I thought this LN business couldn’t get any stranger,” he mused.
“But it’s not the LN,” she countered, “else Hamlet would not have us investigating these cases.”
Ephraim smirked. “Unless Hamlet is the one who has branched off from the LN, and Viola’s group was actually part of the organization, along with these new criminals.”
Feeling suddenly flustered, Liliana stared down into her tea. She hadn’t thought of that. Could Hamlet perhaps be crusading against the real LN, and if he were, to what end? Vengeance for being created a murderous monster?
“We cannot truly trust anything we’ve been told,” Ephraim continued. “We must find the truth for ourselves.”
“And the truth begins with that warehouse,” Arhyen interrupted, suddenly deeming it time to re-enter the conversation. “You say you’ve narrowed an area in which to search?” He eyed Ephraim expectantly.
Ephraim sipped his tea, then lowered his cup. “Yes, though the area is large enough it might take us a few nights to examine every building. Still, I think it’s a better use of our time than questioning the
families of the deceased. Those questioned so far don’t seem to know a thing, and there appears to be no real connection between the victims.”
“What about the mask maker?” Liliana chimed in abruptly. She couldn’t get the idea of Hamlet going rogue from the LN out of her mind. Shouldn’t they at the very least attempt to learn more of who they were really working for?
Arhyen frowned at her. “We could return to the costume shop, but Hamlet knows I was there. I do not think we’ll garner much information, even if we manage to question the mask maker herself.”
Ephraim cleared his throat. “Fortunately, the area we are to search encompasses the location of the mask shop. It could not hurt to at least stop by and see if the mask maker is in.”
Liliana felt her shoulders relax minutely. Visiting the mask maker was a solid plan. She didn’t like things being so up in the air, and leaving everything to chance. Not that she disapproved of Arhyen and Ephraim’s methods, they were working well with what little information they had, but she preferred the idea of a more regimented order of operations. Gather all necessary background information, then move forward from there.
“Will you continue to wear your . . . costume?” Ephraim asked her, drawing her back out of her thoughts.
She looked down at her oversized clothes and shoe polish smudged hands. She’d almost forgotten she was still in costume. Considering his question, she nodded. Even if the woman claiming to be her mother was a lie, Liliana’s presence still might make Arhyen more recognizable to any thugs hoping to claim his bounty, and she wanted to avoid that at all costs.
“That’s wise, I believe,” Ephraim replied, though a subtle smirk remained on his face. “Those we seek have been officially upgraded from grave-robbers to murderers. I think it’s best if none of us are recognized in our search for them.”
“Does that mean we get to put you in costume?” Arhyen inquired mischievously.
Ephraim snorted. “No one is looking for me.”
Arhyen lifted a finger in the air. “Au contraire, we’ve been spotted together many times. The thug from last night automatically knew who you were, and seemed to be under the impression you would slice him up and leave him in a waste bin. If I’m not mistaken, I believe someone is trying to link you to the very crimes we are investigating.”
Ephraim let out an irritated huff of breath. “I’m not putting any shoe polish on my face.”
“Oh no,” Arhyen assured. “I thought perhaps Liliana might allow you to borrow a dress, and we could clean you up like a proper lady.”
Liliana sputtered on her sip of tea. The image of Ephraim in a dress with his short blond hair done up in curls flitted through her mind. She wasn’t sure if the real thing would be more horrifying, or less. All she knew was that she wanted to see it.
Ephraim glared at both of them. “Never mind, I think I’ll take my chances. We’ll just keep distance between ourselves. With Liliana in disguise, neither of us will stand out much.”
Liliana bit her lip, almost wanting to tell them Hamlet had seen right through her disguise, so he’d probably be better off wearing one himself. Unfortunately Ephraim’s scowl offered no opportunity for arguments. Pity, she really would have liked to see him in a dress.
Chapter 9
It had taken them longer to leave the apartment than expected, and since the days were growing shorter, it was already dark by the time they reached Tailor Street. Arhyen mentally envisioned the search boundaries Ephraim had detailed as the trio stepped off the public carriage one by one, then instantly went their separate ways.
The plan was simple. Arhyen and Liliana would search one half of the area, while Ephraim searched the other, then they would meet up near the costumery where he’d seen the twin of Hamlet’s mask. It was too late in the evening to attend the shop whilst the owner was about, but that might be for the best. Perhaps they could quietly find a way in to snoop around for information on the mask maker. As she was technically an employee of the shop owner, perhaps a receipt or other bill could be found with her home address.
Yet, that was a problem for a later time. Now he was focused on keeping Liliana, still dressed in her boyish garb, within his sights without giving away who she was. It was difficult, since most of the shops had closed, so there were few people walking about, save those waiting to catch the next carriage into the more lively areas of town. They would need to take to the secluded back streets to avoid drawing any unwanted attention as Ephraim seemed to have done, given he was nowhere in sight. Liliana, however, lurked near one of the dark storefronts.
Briefly catching her eye, Arhyen made his way toward the nearest side street. They would fortunately be searching in the opposite direction of the graveyard where Fairfax Breckenridge had been laid to rest, so he would not have to broach the topic of visiting her father’s grave once more with her.
Hurrying forward, he soon left the street lamps behind in favor of the quiet, dark paths between buildings. He heard light footsteps somewhere behind him and turned to see Liliana’s small frame, a mere silhouette in the distance. He resisted the urge to signal for her to join him now that they’d left the open expanses of the main street. Though he would have felt more comfortable keeping a direct eye on her, if he ran into anyone who might recognize him, he preferred she be out of sight. If he should be bested in combat, she would be able to circle back around unseen to meet Ephraim. He almost snorted at the thought. If he were attacked by thugs, he had no doubt Liliana would not hesitate to toss herself into the fray. It was one of the things he admired most about her, though he’d gladly exchange that admirable quality for her guaranteed safety.
Refocusing his attention on the task at hand, he continued forward. If the building they were searching for still had exterior guards, as detailed by Martin Burbank, he would need to step carefully. He didn’t want anyone seeing him before he saw them. He dearly wished he could further question their informant, at the very least to ask him what his orders had been as a guard. Were they tasked to attack first, and ask questions later? It seemed unlikely if this organization was trying to avoid drawing attention, but he wasn’t sure that was their actual intent, especially given the careless dumping of the bodies.
He glanced at the dark buildings around him, but saw no guards or interior lights. This close to Tailor street, many of the buildings played host to small clothing shops, cobblers, tailors, and the like. All were dark, long since closed for the evening. He highly doubted the secret building would be in this area of town, but he continued to observe every building, not wanting to miss a thing.
Eventually, with the gentle sound of Liliana’s footsteps following behind him, he reached a more promising area within the search perimeter. Just judging by exterior appearances, the tall brick buildings were likely fabric mills, or smaller manufacturing plants like foundries for casting metal objects like tools or hinges for furniture.
He listened intently as he walked for any signs of life, but all was silent except for the occasional whisper of footsteps behind him. Soon enough, the tall buildings tapered down to ramshackle residences and occasional pump houses. With a sigh, he took a right, heading back toward another grouping of larger buildings. A scuffle to his left stopped him. That wasn’t the area where Liliana would be if she followed the same route he’d taken, as planned.
His eyes scanned the darkness. Nothing jumped out at him immediately, but there was an itch between his shoulder blades alerting him someone was near. He lightly stepped further into the shadows of the nearest building. He didn’t hear Liliana behind him, so hopefully she’d caught on . . . or else she’d been snatched up and he hadn’t even noticed.
Arhyen shook his head, then once again scanned his surroundings. He was about to pass his uneasy feeling off as nerves, when metal groaned somewhere further down the street. He turned and peered in the direction of the sound, quickly finding what he was looking for. It was difficult to tell at that distance without street lamps, but it appeared someone was leaning
against the metal railing of a second story fire escape. The figure seemed relaxed, and didn’t appear to be looking in Arhyen’s direction, though it was impossible to tell for sure.
Arhyen held a hand out in a pre-practiced gesture, warning Liliana to stay hidden. Unfortunately, he could not see her to verify she understood his orders, but he crept forward regardless, stepping near-silently, hugging the wall of the nearest building to take advantage of the deeper shadows.
A few more yards and he was able to see the man more clearly, leaning casually against the metal railing. If he was meant to be a guard, he wasn’t a very good one, though he likely didn’t expect any real trouble in such a remote area of town, where all workers would have long since headed home for the evening. Upon closer observance, he spotted the outline of a pistol in the man’s hand, held low against his leg, though it was difficult to be sure in the dark.
Arhyen relaxed against the brick wall of the building. There was a good chance this was the place, so what to do now? He could report back to Ephraim so they could make a safe plan to investigate further, or he could try to gain a little more information on his own.
He quickly decided on the latter. This man could simply be an innocent worker -with a pistol- taking a break out in the cool evening before returning to some late night manufacturing his employer had demanded from him. It would not do to simply assume this was the right building, and perhaps leave the correct one unfound.
Remaining in the shadows across the street from the edifice, Arhyen headed toward the nearest intersection. He would circle the building from a distance, taking stock of any more guards that might be present.
“What was that?” a voice rasped.
Arhyen froze, the question had come from the direction where he’d started out.
“I ain’t seen nothin’,” a second voice replied more loudly.
Had they spotted Liliana? And since when were they a they? He’d only spotted one man. Arhyen waited, not wanting to move while the men were on alert.