Chapter 20 Kane
KANE
Kane watched Zaria’s expression shift from horror to understanding, then back again.
He didn’t need words to convey the significance of the business card. They were all intimately familiar with it by now.
The Curator, it read.
Because of course it did.
Kane had noticed it at once, a single point of stark white against the dark fabric of Louisa’s dress.
She’d died instantaneously, with only enough time to emit a single shriek before the alchemological bullet tore through her chest. It was a perfect shot.
Clean. Precise. Almost as if she’d been shot straight on at close range.
Zaria emerged into the street on unsteady legs, but Kane could tell from the taut line of her jaw that her teeth were set. She was good at that—pushing down her fear, her horror. He supposed it came with the territory.
“I don’t understand,” she said, her wide brown eyes dropping to Louisa’s limp form.
The woman was positioned on her back, her arms and legs as straight as if she’d simply been lying down.
Her mouth was slightly open, as were her glassy eyes.
Fletcher closed them from where he knelt by her body, frowning at the hole in her chest. Shimmering smoke still rose from the wound in gentle wafts.
Kane found himself swallowing once, then twice.
He thought of Cecile’s death, and how affected Zaria had been.
This was different, of course, but he was gripped by an inexplicable desire to provide some semblance of comfort this time.
To handle it better. To be better. But then Jules came up behind Zaria, touching his fingertips to the curve of her shoulder, and Kane forcibly shoved the thoughts away.
“Louisa knew them,” he said, desperate to break the silence. “The Curator, I mean. We could have just asked her. We could have solved all of this.”
Zaria was still staring at the woman’s body without appearing to see much at all. Her gaze refocused only when she lifted it to Kane’s face, though that bleak quality remained. “What makes you so sure?”
It was Fletcher who answered, brushing off his trousers as he pushed to stand, the set of his mouth grim. “Look at how her body is positioned. She wasn’t trying to flee, and she wasn’t targeted from behind. Whoever her attacker was, the two of them were facing each other.”
“That doesn’t necessarily mean they were acquainted,” Jules objected. “It’s dark out—they obviously saw Louisa, but she might not have seen them.”
“She did,” Kane said.
“You can’t know that.”
“Yes, he can.” This was Zaria, her support of Kane seeming to surprise even her.
He did his best to repress a jolt of pleasure.
“We heard her scream. That means she saw the attack coming. Had she been caught unawares, she would have died too quickly to make a sound.” Zaria bit her lower lip, shrugging apologetically at Jules.
“You know how these alchemological guns work.”
To his credit, Jules wasn’t displeased to be corrected. “Fair enough. Okay, so the two of them were face-to-face. Probably at close range.”
“Definitely at close range,” Kane supplied. “I’d say they were in the midst of having a conversation, in fact. And did you see the way Louisa kept checking the time? She was expecting this person.”
Zaria lowered her voice, although there was no one around to hear. “Do you think their conversation had anything to do with us?”
Kane was positive it did, in fact. He scanned the abandoned street for the umpteenth time. “I think we ought to take this elsewhere. Fletch, can you put her in the shop?” He indicated Louisa, and Fletcher nodded.
“You want to move her body?” Jules said, his tone suggesting he found this plan absurd.
“Would you prefer we left it in the street for anyone to happen across it? Better to move her inside. Her husband can report her murder when he returns.”
“That could be anytime,” Zaria pointed out, wincing as she watched Fletcher drag the woman’s limp corpse over the threshold.
Kane nodded. “That’s why we’re getting out of here.”
“Has it occurred to you that we could be reported as suspects?” Jules hissed. “It was busier when we arrived—anyone might have spotted us in the area.”
“I’m so glad you decided to accompany us, Julian. I never would have thought of that otherwise.”
“You don’t need to be an ass about it. I’m only asking.”
Kane dragged a hand down one side of his face as Fletcher rejoined them, but it was Zaria’s expression that had him backtracking.
She looked marginally irritated, as if she wanted to intervene but didn’t have the energy.
Kane didn’t like being on the receiving end of that look.
He wanted, inexplicably, to wipe it away by whatever means necessary.
“Then yes,” he said to Jules, attempting to sound less irritable.
“That possibility has occurred to me. We just so happen to have more pressing concerns at present.” He beckoned their group down a narrow alley before turning to face all three of them.
It had begun to rain rather heavily, disturbing the foul matter in the gutters and stirring up a scent that made Kane long to be anywhere else.
“Listen. Whoever the Curator is, they knew we were there. What’s more, they were unhappy with Louisa—I’m guessing it’s because of what she told us. ”
“Unhappy might be a bit of an understatement,” Fletcher said dryly. “But I suspect you’re right. You think she was working with them?”
“In some capacity, yes. Or maybe she was just about to start, and that’s what they were meeting about.
Maybe she revealed too much, not realizing she would pay with her life.
” Kane stretched his neck from side to side.
A headache was beginning to pulse behind his eyes.
“I just don’t know what, specifically, would have set them off. ”
“I suppose that makes sense,” Zaria said.
A few strands of wet hair had stuck to her left cheek, and she wiped them away impatiently before continuing.
“What I don’t understand is why, if the Curator was so angry, they didn’t enter the shop.
If Louisa gave us information she wasn’t supposed to, why not kill us as well?
Surely they knew the four of us were in there. ”
“Exactly.” Kane gave a humorless smile. “There were four of us. I’d wager whoever it was had come alone, perhaps with one companion at most. They knew they couldn’t do anything with those odds.”
Fletcher leaned against the damp brick wall of the alley, one hand still clutching his revolver.
He spun it with practiced ease as he contemplated that.
“So the Curator knows we’re trying to find them.
And we must be on the right track, or there wouldn’t be any reason for them to be furious enough with Louisa to kill her. ”
“So the Mansion House plan is a go, then,” Jules said. Despite everything, he seemed rather pleased.
Kane nodded, his thoughts continuing to circle. Fletcher was right—present circumstances did suggest they were on the right track. But how, he wondered, could the Curator possibly have known that? He, Fletcher, Jules, and Zaria had only ever discussed these matters among themselves.
Somewhere—too close—there was a rat. Kane might have been tempted to blame Jules, but he knew the boy would never do anything to harm Zaria. It could only have been someone at the manor. Someone who heard something they weren’t supposed to and reported it to the Curator.
Which meant someone else in Kane’s orbit knew who the Curator was.
Through all this, he was hyperaware of Zaria at his side, which meant he heard the tiny hitch in her breath. Saw her head snap up in his periphery, and knew at once she’d come to some sort of realization.
“What is it?” he asked her, his heart skipping a beat when she turned her wide eyes on him.
“I think I know why they killed her,” she said haltingly. “I think I know how it all connects.”
None of them uttered a word, waiting for her to continue. Kane couldn’t fathom what might follow.
Zaria clasped her hands together, then pressed them to her lips before speaking again.
“At first I wondered whether it had something to do with the Scriniarii,” she said.
“If perhaps it does still exist, and nobody is supposed to know about it. But that doesn’t seem serious enough to warrant murder, especially since I’m an alchemologist and you’re the damned kingpin of the dark market.
” This to Kane, who gave a nod he hoped was encouraging.
“I mean, it’s not like either of us would bring them any trouble.
So then I thought about the reason we visited Louisa in the first place: to ask her about the primateria source.
“I think she was killed for telling us it was a fake,” Zaria said, almost a whisper.
“I think the real primateria source was on display at the Exhibition, at least initially. Like you said, Ward wouldn’t have acted unless he had that information on good authority.
I think someone else just got to it first. And,” she paused, gauging their reactions, “I think it was the Curator.”
Kane narrowed his eyes as he tried to follow her logic. Fletcher, on the other hand, said, “How did you end up there?”
“Think about it,” Zaria insisted. She spoke faster now, a light flush spreading into her cheeks, her fingers moving rapidly at her sides.
“We can make two assumptions about the Curator: that they have access to the Crystal Palace, and that they have knowledge of alchemology. We know they snuck those devices into the Exhibition, but what if that wasn’t their first time doing something like that? What if they also stole from it?”
Jules’s face lit up, his eyes sparking in a single strip of moonlight. “Then they could have replaced the necklace with a fake. Which, with their knowledge of alchemology, they would have had the skills to create. That’s why you said it felt like magic.”