Kipps rolled his eyes. Barnes made an impatient exclamation. ‘But why should he come at all? Why break cover? He was a wanted man!’
‘I can only think it was something to do with the Bickerstaff mirror,’ Lockwood said. ‘I think its powers appalled him. Don’t forget it killed his colleague Neddles before they left the cemetery. Who knows what else it did. He may have wanted to come clean about it, and tell us what it could do.’
Barnes’s scowl travelled the room. ‘This mirror has been gone less than forty-eight hours, and already the two men who stole it are dead! Think about it – it would probably have killed Cubbins here too if you hadn’t covered it with the net.’
‘That’s assuming his face wouldn’t have cracked the glass first,’ Kipps said.
‘It must be found!’ Barnes clapped a fist into his palm. ‘Or this won’t be the end. It’s deadly! It kills wherever it goes!’
‘The mirror didn’t kill Carver,’ Lockwood said quietly.
‘Ah, but it did. Because people are willing to commit murder to get it.’
Lockwood shook his head. ‘Maybe, but whoever stabbed Carver doesn’t have the mirror.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘From the money he was carrying. He’d already sold it.’
‘That doesn’t prove anything. They might have killed him to keep him quiet.’
‘If I’d given Carver a thousand pounds for the mirror, and then murdered him, I might be inclined to take the money back,’ Lockwood said. ‘No, this was done by someone else. Someone with access to weird daggers. If I were you, Inspector, that’s where I’d start.’
Barnes grunted. ‘Whoever did it, my point still stands,’ he said. ‘This mirror is a menace. No one can consider himself safe until it’s found. And so far I don’t think much of either of your investigations. Kipps’s ham-fisted arrests have filled every cell in London and achieved precisely nothing. Meanwhile the best lead we have turns up dead on Lockwood’s carpet!’ His voice rose several notches; the moustache jutted out like a windsock in a gale. ‘It’s not good enough! I need action! I need results!’
From the chair where he perched like an eager schoolboy, Bobby Vernon spoke for the first time. ‘I’m making excellent progress at the Archives, sir,’ he trilled. ‘I feel sure I’ll have a breakthrough for you very soon.’
George sat slumped in the depths of the sofa. ‘Yeah, we’re working on it too.’
Kat Godwin had been staring at us in mounting irritation. ‘Inspector,’ she said suddenly, ‘Lockwood clearly hasn’t told us the whole truth about tonight. Look how shifty Cubbins is; see the guilt in that girl’s eyes!’
‘I thought they always looked like that,’ Barnes said. He glanced up as a thin-faced DEPRAC agent appeared from the hall. ‘Well?’
‘Just had word from Portland Mews, sir, round the corner. Number seven there heard an altercation on the street around half past eleven. Raised male voices, very angry. Some kind of argument. Sure enough, there’s blood on the cobbles outside. It’s where it happened.’
‘Many thanks, Dobbs. All right, we’re moving out.’ Barnes rose stiffly. ‘I should warn all of you that it’s an offence not to share information with other investigating agents. I expect co-operation between your teams. I expect results. Lockwood, Cubbins – don’t forget to scatter iron in your hall.’
The party broke up. Barnes and his men left first, then Kipps’s team; I showed them out. Quill Kipps was the last to go.
He paused at the door. ‘Ms Carlyle,’ he said. ‘A word with you . . .’
‘So you do know my name,’ I said.
Kipps gave a small smile, showing his neat white teeth. ‘Joking aside,’ he said softly, ‘I’d like to be serious for a moment. Don’t worry, I don’t want to know whatever little secret Lockwood’s keeping from us. Fair’s fair – this is a contest, after all. Although, incidentally’ – he leaned slightly closer, so that I caught a lungful of some strong, flowery scent – ‘do you think it was exactly sporting of Lockwood to knock down poor Ned Shaw the other day? Wasn’t that slightly against the rules?’
‘Shaw started it,’ I said. ‘And Lockwood didn’t really knock him down. He—’
Kipps made a dismissive gesture. ‘Be that as it may. Ms Carlyle, you’re clearly the most intelligent of your team. And you’ve some little Talent too, if everything I’ve heard is true. Surely you don’t want to hang around with these losers any longer. You’ve got a career to think of. I know you had an interview with Fittes a while ago; I know they failed you, but in my opinion’ – he smiled again – ‘they made a bad mistake. Now, I have a little influence within the organization. I can pull strings, get you a position within the company. Just think: instead of eking out a living here, you could be at Fittes House, with all its power at your disposal.’
‘Thank you,’ I said, trying to keep my voice calm. I couldn’t remember when I’d been so angry. ‘I’m quite happy where I am.’
‘Well, think about it,’ Kipps said. ‘The offer’s open.’
‘And I’ll have you know we’re not without influence at your organization already,’ I added, while closing the door. ‘Penelope Fittes has invited us to your Anniversary Party in a couple of days. Perhaps we’ll see you there – if you’ve been invited. Good evening.’
I shut the door in his face and stood against it, breathing deeply, trying to calm down. I walked up the hall, boots crunching through salt, to the kitchen. Lockwood and George were surveying the forgotten debris from our supper. It seemed a long while ago.
‘All right, Luce?’ George said.
‘Yeah. I just remembered that Fittes party we were invited to. We still going to that?’
Lockwood nodded. ‘Of course. We’ll have this case done by then, I hope. We’ve been discussing Barnes. He wants this mirror so badly. He knows what it does, or something important about it, mark my words.’
‘Well, we know a bit too, now,’ George said. ‘What did Carver say? “You see such things, such terrible things.” He was talking about looking in the mirror. Take it from me.’
Lockwood picked up a dried sandwich, inspected it, and returned it to the plate. ‘If it is a mirror,’ he said. ‘Carver called it a “bone glass”. If it’s made from bones Bickerstaff pinched from the graveyards, then it presumably contains a Visitor – that’s what gives it psychic power. Maybe that’s what you see when you look deeply into it? The ghost, somehow.’
‘Or ghosts,’ I said. ‘Seven from it, not one.’
‘Well, I saw something in it,’ George said softly. ‘It was terrible, but I wanted to see more . . .’ He stared towards the window.
‘Whatever it is,’ I said, ‘it’s so bad you die of fright if you see it properly. Like that relic-man Neddles did. I reckon Bickerstaff looked into it too. Maybe what he saw sent him mad and made him shoot himself.’
Lockwood shrugged. ‘Could be.’
‘No. That wasn’t the way it happened.’
Lockwood stretched. ‘We should get on and seal the hallway. It’ll be dawn soon.’ He stared at me. I’d jerked suddenly upright. My heart was pounding, my skin felt like ice. I was looking all around. ‘Lucy?’
‘I thought I heard something. A voice . . .’
‘Not Carver, surely. They doused the place well.’
I glanced towards the hallway. ‘Don’t know. It’s possible . . .’
‘So we’ve got a ghost free in our house now?’ George said. ‘Fantastic. What a terrific night.’
‘Well, we’ll fix him.’ Lockwood went to the shelf behind the door; he found a pack of iron filings and tore it open. George did the same. But I stood quite still, frozen in disbelief. A whispering voice had just spoken in my ear.