Easy enough to see what had changed. He wanted something.
Rule roused from his thoughts, feeling Lily’s gaze on him. “Yes?”
“I think we should be sure we’re all on the same page here,” she said. “Cullen wants his prototype back. I do, too, but even more I want to find out who has it and why. What’s your priority, Rule?”
“Determining if Friar has any connection to the theft, of course. Which puts us very much on the same page.” He added very softly, “I’m okay, Lily.”
She nodded, but not as if she believed him. More like she was willing to let him say that. “We don’t have any reason right now to think there’s a connection. This could be good, old-fashioned corporate theft.”
“You said Ruben had a hunch you should be there.”
“His hunch didn’t include why, though. It doesn’t mean Friar’s involved.” She drummed the fingers of her free hand on her thigh. “I’ve got two good witnesses, or will have. Your brother and what’s-his-name…the new Laban Rho.”
“Tony Romano.”
“Right. Tony and Jasper both had contact with whoever commissioned this theft.” She gave him a quick glance. “I’m assuming that information is part of this deal your brother wants to make.”
“I think of him as my alius kin.”
“Okay. I think of him as your brother.”
He didn’t respond. Eventually Lily would understand, but she didn’t now, and he wasn’t inclined to explain while they had an audience.
After a brief pause she went on. “But whatever label we give Jasper, he knows things we need to know. Talking has to be part of whatever deal we make.”
“Obviously. Information is all he has to offer, if what he said about the device being stolen from him is true. I don’t know what he wants in return, but I’d guess that staying out of prison is involved.” He paused. “I would prefer that he not go to prison.”
“I’ll bear that in mind. I think I should do the dealing.”
His eyebrows lifted. “I’m quite capable of—”
“Yes, but it gets you two off to a difficult start if you have to be a hard-ass.”
“Considering that our relationship began with him stealing from the clan, I’d say we’re already well into ‘difficult.’ ”
“Then let’s not make it worse. Besides, you can’t agree to grant him immunity from prosecution, which he’ll likely insist on.”
He suspected that technically she couldn’t, either, but she could neglect to arrest Machek. She must think she could keep this under the table. He considered a moment longer, then nodded. “Am I supposed to be the good cop, then?”
“You can stand there looking mysterious and vaguely scary. You said he wouldn’t talk about what he wants until we get there.”
He nodded, toying with the ring on her finger. His ring.
“Can you give me your impression of him?”
“He knows what he wants, even if he wasn’t willing to tell me. He was calm, in control, when he might have been panicky or angry about losing something he’d gone to great trouble to obtain.” He thought a bit more and added, “He’s educated, or knows how to sound like it.”
“He’s got a degree in art history and owns a small gallery.”
Art history. Why did that surprise him? He’d known about the man’s existence for less than twenty-four hours. Surely that wasn’t enough time to develop preconceptions. “Last night I wasn’t ready to learn about him. I am now.”
She cocked her head. “I’ve got the FBI’s file on him, plus some recent stuff Arjenie dug up. You want to see it?”
The FBI didn’t keep files on everyone. “Do you mean a file or a rap sheet?”
“No rap sheet. He’s never been arrested, but several years ago he was a person of interest in a theft at the National Gallery in D.C. That made it an FBI matter, see—National Gallery, federal law. They never had enough evidence to make an arrest, but it’s clear the lead agent had him picked for the perp. He put together the file.”
“He is a pro, then. As you suspected.”
“Looks like it, though there’s—”
Cullen interrupted. “What was stolen?”
She looked at him. “That was odd. Only one item went missing—a thirteenth-century chalice, solid gold with precious gems. No one could figure out why he targeted that one item. It was worth plenty, sure, but there were other things he could have grabbed that were worth more.”
“No, there weren’t,” Cullen said.
“What do you know about this?”
“That chalice was an artifact.”
“An artifact?” Rule said, startled. Artifacts were major magic—so major no one on Earth knew how to make them. It took an adept to make an artifact, and the knowledge had been lost even before the Purge. “What did it do?”
“No one knows. At least I never heard a whisper that anyone had figured it out, and I sure as hell couldn’t. I studied the damn thing for days, but all that showed was the trigger—and that was locked.”
“Locked,” Lily repeated.
“Locked as in keyed to someone who has probably been dead for a few hundred years, so no one could use it. Resetting the key would take knowledge we just don’t have.”
“And you studied it for days?”
“That was about three months before it was stolen. And no,” Cullen added with preemptive irritation, “I didn’t have anything to do with that. Not from any moral objection on my part, but I couldn’t afford Umbra.”
“Umbra.”
“That’s the name your thief goes by. Or used to. Kind of pretentious, isn’t it?’
“I don’t know,” she said dryly. “What does it mean?”
“It’s the scientific name for one part of a shadow. Anyway, everyone assumed Umbra was the one who took the chalice because it was such a slick, high-dollar job. There was a lot of speculation about who his client might have been, but it was bullshit. No one really knew anything.”
“Who’s ‘everyone’?”
Cullen waved vaguely. “People. You know.”
“No, actually, I don’t. But I’d like to.”
“I’m not going to tell you about them. First, it was seven years ago, and I don’t remember exactly who I talked to. Second, if any of them had an inkling I mentioned them to someone official, they’d never talk to me again. And that would be bad.”
“Are they other sorcerers?”
“Did you hear me say I wouldn’t tell you about them? I could’ve sworn I heard those words come out of my mouth.” Cullen sighed. “I feel a bit better knowing it was Umbra who got through my wards. Not a lot, but some. He was supposed to be the best.”
Rule’s eyebrows lifted. “Was?”
“Two or three years ago word went out that he wasn’t taking jobs anymore. Rumor was divided about why. Some said he’d retired. Some said he’d died. Looks like he was just on sabbatical.”
Lily made a note. “Huh. Guess we’ll have the chance to ask him. How did people reach Umbra to hire him?”
Cullen considered the question a moment. “I can tell you that much. Here in the States he used an agent, a big fat guy named Hugo. I met him once on an unrelated matter. Back then—this was maybe five years ago—he hung out at a dive called Rats in San Francisco. He’s Gifted—can’t tell you which one because I don’t remember. Maybe one of the Air Gifts. Caucasian, around fifty, bald or else he shaved his head. Tattoo of a lightning bolt on his forehead. Looked like prison work.”
“Last name?”
“No idea. He went by Hugo.”
“How big was he?”
“About Rule’s height and maybe three hundred pounds.”