“A good whore does pretty well, from what I’ve seen.”
Lenoir regarded him with rueful affection. A child in one breath, a seasoned adult in the next. Perhaps that was what drew him to the boy—that compelling mix of innocence and experience. Living proof that it was possible to live among the poison without becoming fatally ill, that one could see the world for what it truly was, yet still work toward something better. “Would you prefer to sleep at the orphanage?” he asked.
Zach shook his head. “I won’t get any sleep there. The sisters will ask me a million questions, and the other kids too.”
“So I thought. Rest here, then. Later on, you can go down to the station and give your statement.”
Zach looked up at him. “What do you mean, I can go down? You’ll come with me, right?”
Lenoir pasted on a smile. “Yes, of course. Now rest.”
The boy was fast asleep within minutes. He was exhausted, but otherwise appeared none the worse for his ordeal—except, of course, for the scar on his wrist. Lenoir found he did not have it in him to explain the nature of the injury, or how Zach came to have it. Lenoir had not spoken of it again since they quit the tower, and Zach had not asked. The boy seemed to accept the scar as a relatively benign consequence of his captivity, and considering what had almost happened to him, Lenoir could not disagree.
He left Zach in peace and headed for the station. He would send one of the watchmen to the orphanage to tell the nuns that Zach was safe. He had debated going himself, but he needed to use these last few hours to file his report, for there would never be another opportunity, and he did not want the details of the case to die with him. Not that there would be much for the Metropolitan Police to follow up—there were no arrests to be made, at least not with the evidence on hand, and anyone whose involvement could be proven had already received judgment. But Kody’s family, and Hardin’s, deserved to know what had happened to their sons.
The station was nearly deserted. The hounds were still swarming the streets in search of Hardin’s killer. Lenoir found the chief in his office, poring over a stack of recently penned reports, his leathery face pulled into a forbidding scowl.
“Where in the flaming prisons of the below have you been?” Reck said as he looked up from his papers. “I was beginning to think you got the same treatment as Hardin!”
Lenoir sat. He had not been invited to, but he did not think he could stay on his feet for much longer without passing out. He had never been so exhausted in all his life. “I told you I was tracking down the kidnappers.”
“That was two days ago!”
Lenoir snorted incredulously. “Two days,” he whispered in amazement.
“Is something funny, Inspector?”
Lenoir rubbed his eyes, the lids feeling like rasps against the bloodshot orbs. “No, Chief. It’s just that I can hardly believe it has only been two days. So much has happened.”
Mollified, the chief sat back in his chair, arms folded. “So let’s hear it.”
“I know who attacked Kody and Hardin,” Lenoir said without preamble. “At least, I know who ordered it done, and where it took place.”
Reck grunted. “I’m relieved to hear it, because we’re getting nowhere out there.” He gestured dismissively at the pile of papers on his desk. “Fifty reports, and the best information we have is that Kody bought a meat pie across the street. The rest of it we already knew. He talked to Izar before he left, but he didn’t say where he was going, or why. Izar is in a state, as you can imagine. Thought he should have seen it coming, and other such guilt-ridden nonsense.”
“Ridiculous. It would have been nearly impossible for anyone to reconstruct Kody’s lead based on what he learned at the prison, even if the prisoners cooperated fully.”
“Which they manifestly did not. Stedman, idiot that he is, started off the interview by telling the prisoner that Hardin was dead. Guess how eager she was to talk after that.” Reck shook his head in disgust. “If I thought I could get by with only three inspectors, I would just fire him and get it over with.”
You had better hold off on that, Lenoir thought wryly. Aloud, he said, “I suspect what Kody learned at the prison went to motive, which he was able to piece together in conjunction with information we found in Berryvine.”
“Well?” The chief spread his hands impatiently. “Don’t keep me in suspense. Who do I have to round up?”
“No one. Hardin’s killer is already dead. Her name was Zera, known as Lady Zera by those in her social circle.”
Reck’s eyebrows rose. “Lady Zera? Well, that certainly explains a lot, like why we were called to the scene of a shoot-up at her place last night. Do I have you to thank for that little massacre?”
Lenoir shifted uncomfortably. “I was there, although I only killed one man myself.”
“We found two killed by gunfire. The rest were strangled with some sort of barbed rope. Looks like the barbs were poisoned too.” The chief narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing Lenoir intently.
“Zera had powerful enemies,” said Lenoir, choosing his words carefully. “I stayed out of their way, so long as they were working in my interests. Our interests.”
The chief frowned. “Let’s come back to that in a minute. You want to explain to me why we got word of the incident from a neighbor, and not you? Why didn’t you wait for backup before you confronted her? You’re too seasoned an officer to be pulling greenhorn crap like that, Lenoir.”
I had backup, Chief. Better backup than any hound. “I was in a hurry. A boy’s life was at stake.”
Reck seemed to accept that. “You knew this Zera, didn’t you? Seems to me you’ve been seen at her salon once or twice in the past.” He paused to let that sink in. Lenoir wondered how long the chief had been waiting to spring that little warning on him.
“I knew her well,” Lenoir said. There was no point in denying it.
“Why would she want Kody and Hardin dead?”
“I don’t know the full story, but she obviously believed they knew something that could connect her to the kidnappings, so she wanted them disposed of.”
Reck rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I wonder how Kody figured it out.”
“I’m not sure he did. He might only have sought her out as a source of information about the Adali. We might never know for certain.”
“Wouldn’t that be a kick in the ass?” Reck said sourly. “Death by coincidence.”
“Kody is dead, then?”
“He’s the same. I was talking about Hardin.”
Lenoir nodded. “Anyway, I would be surprised if Kody actually knew much about what the kidnappers intended.”
“Which is what, exactly? And how was Lady Zera involved?”
“I believe that a small group of Adali was in the process of procuring a very significant favor for someone powerful, in exchange for major land concessions to their clan. Zera was the liaison.”
The chief shook his head blankly. “I don’t get it. What does that have to do with kidnapping children?”
Lenoir sighed and passed a hand over his eyes again. “I will explain everything, I promise. I came here to file a full report. Better for you to read that. The story is . . . complicated.”
To his immense relief, the chief only grunted and said, “Sounds like it.”
“I had better get started,” Lenoir said, rising. “Have you sent word to Kody’s family?”
Reck inclined his head briefly. “They came in on the stagecoach last night. The mother isn’t taking it well.”
“They never do.” Pausing at the door on his way out, Lenoir said, “It has been a privilege to work with you, Chief.”