Chapter 8 Kane #2
“Hunt,” said Richard Price Senior, letting the door latch shut behind him. “It’s been a while.”
Although Kane had seen the inspector’s son recently—when the young man jeopardized his plan to steal from the Crystal Palace, in fact—he was less familiar with the more esteemed of the two Prices.
He might not have known the two were related at all; Price Senior was gray where his son was dark-haired, with a square jaw and a mustache like a wire brush.
He was tall and broad where Price Junior was slight, and his eyes were a generic shade of blue with an oddly vacant quality.
Kane had met with him on Ward’s behalf a few times and didn’t recall it being a particularly pleasant experience.
He rose from the desk to grasp Price’s fingers firmly. “Inspector. It has indeed. Please, call me Durante—I see no point in keeping up the charade. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
What Kane really wanted to ask was How did you know where to find me? Given recent events, he didn’t trust either of the Price men as far as he could throw them. But he arranged his expression into one of cool calm, determined not to show how the inspector’s appearance had rattled him.
Price ignored the question. “I’ll admit, I didn’t think to see you stepping up as the new kingpin.”
“Were you expecting someone else to take Ward’s place?”
“Not necessarily, though I suppose I hadn’t given it much consideration.
If you’d asked me, I wouldn’t have thought we’d see the end of Alexander Ward so soon.
” Price gave a somber shake of his head.
It was impossible to tell whether the emotion was sincere.
“And a fire, at that? A freak accident? I would have thought Ward too clever, too careful, to be taken out that way. That man planned for every outcome.”
“I’d argue that’s the only way someone like Ward could have been killed.” Kane forced the bite from his voice, interlacing his fingers as he relaxed back into his chair. He gestured at the seat across from him. “It could only have been an accident. Anything else, and he would have seen it coming.”
Price sat, tilting his head. “A fair point. I expect he taught you to think the same way.”
“Ward taught me everything I know.”
“Bled the humanity right out of you, did he?”
“I’m sure there are some who would say as much.”
“And you?”
“I’d say it remains to be seen.” Kane let that sit between them for a moment before straightening.
“I’m in the role whether you like it or not, Inspector, and I can guess why you’re here.
So tell me: Is the agreement you had with Ward going to continue, or are we going to have a problem on our hands? ”
Price’s laugh was curt. “You’re bold, I’ll give you that. I know what you did, and how you made a fool of my son in the process.”
If he hoped the admission would catch Kane off guard, he was about to be disappointed.
Kane was no fool—he’d known there was no possible outcome in which the inspector didn’t learn what had happened at the Exhibition.
After all, he was Ward’s link to the Metropolitan Police, and someone had delivered the information about the planned heist to his son.
When Junior cornered Kane at the Crystal Palace, the young sergeant had thrown Ward’s lack of trust in his face.
But it wasn’t Kane whom Ward hadn’t trusted—it was Zaria.
And he’d been fucking right.
“Your son made a fool of himself,” Kane said. “He’s almost too easy to manipulate. A shame he didn’t inherit his father’s cunning.”
Price wasn’t appeased. “You shot him.”
“With aleuite ammunition. He wasn’t seriously harmed.
” Besides, Kane wasn’t the one who’d pulled the trigger.
That had been Zaria, brandishing the weapon she’d created to incapacitate anyone who got in their way.
A good thing, too: This meeting would be a hell of a lot less pleasant if they’d killed the inspector’s son.
The fact that Junior had blamed Kane, though, was interesting.
Perhaps the miserable bastard hadn’t wanted to admit he’d been shot by a woman.
Kane should have sold Zaria out right then and there. He should have, and yet it felt like the sort of petty snitching a child would do. Better to let Price think everything had gone according to plan.
“When you make my son look foolish, you make me look foolish,” Price snapped. “I don’t appreciate that. Then there are the Irish exhibitors to contend with—they’re furious about the theft from their exhibit. You really couldn’t have chosen something a little less conspicuous to steal?”
“No, I really couldn’t have.”
“And why is that?”
Kane shrugged. “It’s what Ward asked for.”
“Why’d he want it so badly?”
It was the same question Kane had been grappling with as of late.
Why had Ward wanted the necklace? Sure, it was a primateria source, but he was no alchemologist, and didn’t even have one working for him any longer.
He’d claimed the source could bring power to whoever possessed it, but that was a vague motivation for someone like Ward.
The more Kane mulled it over, the less certain he was the kingpin had shared the whole truth.
“I don’t know,” he told Price. “It wasn’t my place to ask.”
“And where is the necklace now?”
A lie sprang to Kane’s lips before he had thought his answer through. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
The inspector watched him for a long moment. Anyone else might have crumbled under that interrogative glare, but Kane raised his chin, letting his own gaze issue a challenge.
“Let’s speak plainly,” he said. “Ward paid you a healthy cut for turning a blind eye to his business dealings. I’m willing to extend the same offer, but we need to be able to trust each other.”
The line of Price’s mouth twisted. “If we’re speaking plainly, Durante, then let me be frank: I know you know what Ward did with that necklace.
I can only assume it’s no longer in your possession, since I doubt you’d be so foolish as to withhold it from me.
This isn’t a game, you understand. My job is in jeopardy.
And if I don’t keep my job, where does that leave you? ”
“I’m not interested in hypotheticals,” Kane retorted.
“I wasn’t privy to every one of Ward’s plans, but if you continue to do well by my crew, I’ll get the necklace back.
” He thought of Zaria. The primateria source she’d so desperately needed, and the choices he’d made as a result.
He fought to control his expression. “In the meantime, I’m sure you can keep the Irish off your back. ”
The inspector snorted. “Horse, carrot. Is that it?”
“I think we both know you’re far cleverer than a horse, Inspector.”
“You know, Durante, you might just make a good kingpin.”
“Why’s that?” Kane asked, smirking as he crossed his ankles beneath the desk.
Price wagged a finger at him. “You’re a slick son of a bitch, that’s why. Let’s hope that quality comes in handy once I show you this.”
An unpleasant sensation settled in Kane’s stomach as the inspector handed him a folded bit of The Times newspaper. “What is it?”
“Just read.”
He did, quickly and with growing confusion.
It was a story about a strange device that had apparently shown up at the Crystal Palace with no explanation.
It didn’t appear to be part of any display, yet it functioned in a manner that left even the Exhibition’s most skilled technicians baffled.
“I’m not sure what this has to do with me. What kind of device is it?”
“That’s the question,” Price said. “Nobody can identify it, nor can they figure out how to move it. Might as well be part of the Crystal Palace floor.”
“You think it’s alchemological.”
“Correct. Somehow, someone installed a magical item in the Exhibition without anyone being the wiser. And that’s not all.” Price plucked the newspaper from Kane’s frozen grip and replaced it with a small piece of firm paper. “They left this behind.”
A business card, Kane realized as he turned it over, frustration mounting. One side was blank. The other said simply—in curling, delicate script—The Curator. Nothing about the title struck him as familiar. “Who the hell is the Curator?”
“So you’re claiming it has nothing to do with you.”
“You thought it did?”
“I assumed it didn’t, in fact. But some believe otherwise.”
Kane flicked the card back across the desk. Unease was beginning to creep in, and he resented its presence. “Get on with it, Inspector. What’s all this about?”
Price’s narrow mouth thinned further. “The crown and my superiors think the two are connected. The theft of the Waterhouse necklace and the appearance of the device. An attempt at public mockery, so to speak. I’m sure you can imagine their level of displeasure.”
“Well, they’re not connected,” Kane snapped. “I love a good gloat as much as the next bastard, but I’m no wooden spoon.”
“I’m aware. That said, there’s a lot of pressure on me to make an arrest.” Price interlaced his hands beneath his chin, regarding Kane gravely.
“I’ve been put in a difficult position. If I don’t bring someone in, I could be demoted, or at the very least moved to another division.
And yet the only thing keeping my son’s men silent about what they saw at the Crystal Palace is me.
They’re not afraid of Ricky; they’re afraid of what I could do to their careers. ”
Hearing Price Junior called Ricky almost startled a laugh out of Kane. Instead, he lifted his brow. “Are you threatening me?”
“I’m simply laying out the situation as I see it. The only person I have any evidence against, Durante, is you. Well—you and Master Collins. I’m loath to jeopardize our partnership, but if I lose my current position, that’ll happen regardless. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Oh, Kane understood. Although Price couldn’t have known it, he’d played his highest card by mentioning Fletcher.
If Kane got his friend arrested, there was no chance in hell of ever being forgiven.
Then there was the matter of his own arrest—the crew would devolve into anarchy with him gone.
Curse Ward for tasking him to steal the necklace in the first place.
It hadn’t brought Kane a goddamned thing apart from trouble.
“Yes,” Kane said with a curl of his lip.
“Yes, I understand quite well. You’re saying that if I want to stay out of darbies”—he rotated his wrists as he spoke—“then you need my help finding out who this Curator is. It’s charming you think I’d be an easy arrest. As it so happens, however, you’ve piqued my interest. I don’t particularly like the idea of someone connecting my heist to whatever’s going on now. ”
The inspector stood. “My intention was not to put strain upon this new relationship—”
“Ah, but wasn’t it?”
“However, I’m sure you can see where I’m coming from. You caused this problem for me, and therefore, I need you to fix it.” Price paused by the door. His gaze was uncompromising, his tone no longer cordial. “You don’t intend to hand over that necklace, do you?”
Kane saw no reason to lie. “No.”
A stiff nod. “Find me this so-called Curator, and I’ll make it all go away. He’ll take the fall for your crimes rather than the other way around. You can consider it a gesture of good faith.”
“And if I fail,” Kane said placidly, “then I become your scapegoat.”
The inspector’s shrug was more dismissive than apologetic. “Call it whatever you wish. You have until next Friday, Durante. Surely ten days will be enough.”