Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
Zephyra and Maxham left the churchyard of Brannon Church, making their way along winding streets in the darkness.
When she had been making her way to the church, Zephyra had needed to keep her wits about her so that she would not be accosted by any of the unsavory elements hiding in the dark.
But Maxham strode confidently down the road, his boots ringing almost defiantly against the cobblestones.
She scurried in his wake, dissatisfied with herself that she needed the protection of a man and yet also relieved that she had no need to defend herself. No one approached them, although Zephyra thought she saw the gleam of avaricious eyes coming from dark alleyways.
They walked for nearly an hour without speaking before she broke the silence.
“Tell me about the code in the notebooks,” she said reluctantly.
She had not wanted to admit that the silence between them was strained, but she was unused to having complete ignorance about the thoughts of a man in her presence, after surviving for so many years by manipulating everyone around her.
She could not be certain in the darkness, but she thought Maxham looked sideways at her with a hint of amusement. “The code is a series of numbers.”
“What sorts of numbers?” she asked.
“It depends upon the notebook. We have three.”
Zephyra only just managed to conceal her shock. She had thought Bianca only had two notebooks.
Maxham continued, “There are eight to fifteen numbers on each line. In one notebook, the lowest number is seven while the highest is five hundred seventy-three.”
With a sinking heart, Zephyra suspected she knew what the key to the code would be. But she nonetheless asked him, “Is the entire notebook in code?”
“The first notebook contains some notes that are not ciphered, discussing the growth of the Goldensuit, although Jack says most of the ideas are worthless.”
“Of course Jack would say something like that,” she said sourly.
“The notes describe her experiments, which prove that her theories were in error. The last third of the book is mostly numbers, with only a few more legible pages.”
“What do those legible portions say?”
“They read rather more like a personal diary.” There was a hint of weariness in Maxham’s voice. “She was particularly obsessed with various means of eliminating Lady Wynwood without suspicion, but her ladyship’s servants were proving to be too diligent.”
Zephyra herself had been unable to determine where Phoebe and her aunt were staying in London, so this fact did not particularly surprise her.
She also remembered something that had baffled her.
“Perhaps you will explain for me the reason why, when I spoke with Lady Wynwood’s niece only a few days ago, she smelled of the Blood Nectar? ”
Maxham’s pale eyes grew dark and uninterested. “I gave Miss Sauber the Blood Nectar myself a few weeks ago.”
Zephyra’s breath stuck in her throat for a moment. “Why would you do that?”
“Why, because Jack had stabbed her.”
Zephyra choked. The Citadel would only give up a portion of the Blood Nectar if the wound had been so grievous that, even if Phoebe had managed to steal several of Jack’s vials, the Root would not have healed her. “Why?”
“To trade for the notebooks, of course. My dear, pray keep pace.”
She grit her teeth and bit back a retort, since she suspected he was not referring to her walking. “Phoebe … No, it must have been Lady Wynwood who possessed the notebooks?”
“Did your sister not tell you? She hid them with her lover.”
Zephyra suddenly understood. “She chose such a roundabout method so that she would not know where they were hidden. And so that you could not discover that from her before you killed her.”
He gave her a slight smile, as if pleased at her cleverness, but he did not directly acknowledge her accusation. “I had not expected Jack to kill his lordship in quite so expeditious a fashion.”
And therefore Maxham would not be able to determine the location from his lordship, either, if he was a corpse.
“They must have seeds,” she said. “They must be able to grow the Goldensuit.”
“‘They?’” Maxham drawled.
She grew irritated because he was toying with her. “You know very well who they are.”
“Yes, but do you?”
Zephyra opened her mouth to utter a retort but realized she had none. “Phoebe Sauber and her aunt, Lady Wynwood.” She recalled meeting them outside of Mr. Sauber’s home in the company of … “Mr. Drydale.”
She knew there must be more among their number.
“Mr. Ackett.” Although she had heard from Miss Layton that he had supposedly gone on a sudden trip out of town.
“Miss Gardinier.” She had been with Phoebe at Brannon Church, where Zephyra had first realized Phoebe belonged to a group intent upon thwarting Apothecary Jack.
Maxham was unsurprised at the names she uttered, but he also looked slightly disappointed. “I was hoping you might have a name I didn’t already know. Tell me, how did you discover all this for yourself?”
She wanted to refuse to answer him in order to keep her secrets to herself. But she had the suspicion that he would have already sent that man, Mr. Norton, to ask around in society about her, and they would find out about her soon enough.
“Bianca once mentioned that you worked in the Long Glades,” she said.
His pale eyebrows rose in surprise. “Did she, now? It was not something I told her myself.”
“Perhaps Mr. Jadis mentioned it to her.” In truth, Zephyra suspected Bianca had also disguised herself and followed the other members of the Citadel, which could be when she had discovered that Maxham had business in the Long Glades.
“I joined a charity at Brannon Church in order to hear more about you, specifically, but I quickly found out about Apothecary Jack and the Root potion.”
“And you somehow connected the Root with the Blood Nectar?”
“It was not so difficult. Men with superior strength and enhanced hearing? And I am certain it was not a coincidence that Apothecary Jack fancies himself a botanist. He arrived in London quite soon after my sister was killed.”
Maxham gave her a mild smile, as if daring her to accuse him of murdering her sister. She had the impression he wanted to see what she would look like if she let slip the tight grip she had on her temper. She gritted her teeth so that she would not give him the satisfaction.
“And what did you hear about me?” he asked in a voice that was almost playful.
“Very little, if that pleases you.”
“It does?—”
“Except for the fact that I quickly heard your name in connection with Mr. Farrimond,” she interrupted him.
He looked genuinely dumbfounded. “How did you hear about that?”
“He was not mentioned by name,” she admitted, “but naturally there would be at least one or two men who would be curious if they happened to see you meeting with an obviously wealthy man. I heard only a brief description and recognized Mr. Farrimond.” That was a lie—she had needed to sketch Mr. Farrimond’s face and then show it to one of the men who had mentioned seeing Maxham with a nobleman.
“I assume you then became friends with his daughter?” Maxham asked.
“Yes. Miss Farrimond enjoys archery, and it was quite simple to befriend some of her acquaintance and be invited to her al fresco tournaments.”
“And that is how you met the Archer.”
It took her a moment to realize he was speaking of Phoebe. Of course he had looked into Phoebe before he ordered Jack to stab her. “How did you find out about Phoebe?”
“I discovered her family name through the services of Mr. Norton. He works quite closely with Mr. Drydale in a clandestine branch of the Alien Office.”
Alien Office? Clandestine branch? Zephyra turned her face away from him, hoping the darkness hid her amazement.
Maxham delivered such momentous information with studied casualness. It made her want to slap him.
He glanced at her, as if knowing she wanted to ask him more about it, but in a fit of pique, all she said was, “Indeed.” She should have realized that Phoebe would not be acting merely with a few other members of the ton.
“How did you know the lovely Archer was more than what she seemed?” Maxham asked.
She hated the disgusting way in which he called Phoebe a lovely archer. But she reminded herself that she and Phoebe were not truly friends, and so there was no need for her to feel so offended.
“I heard about several madmen causing destruction in Jem Town, Rasken Hill, and the Long Glades, and I suspected Jack was involved, especially after hearing all the rumors about him for the past several years. For one particular madman, a group of people supposedly attempted to capture or kill him. No one quite knew what had happened, but suddenly he was gone. So I followed his trail through the Long Glades until I reached the burned factory. I spoke to one of the residents nearby who showed me an arrow he had found outside the building, and I recognized the fletching as belonging to Phoebe.”
Maxham smiled and clapped delicately. “Quite clever of you! I approve.”
She continued walking, refusing to be drawn in by his affable air.
After all, his approval meant nothing. He would still kill her if he felt even the smallest necessity for it.
Maxham led them down to the river and found a boatman he paid to ferry them across.
They did not speak in the creaking boat aside from when Maxham instructed the man to allow them to disembark just short of the water gate.
Vauxhall Walk was nearby, and within a few minutes, Maxham was opening the door to his home.
He said something to the Chinese servant who hurried to the entrance hall to meet them, and soon Zephyra was once again waiting in the drawing room.
As soon as she was alone, she leapt up to explore the house, but she had walked no more than two steps when the door opened and the servant arrived with tea and biscuits.