Bronze Gods (21 page)

“I’m guessing they were a married couple.”

Mikani peered at them more closely. “He slit their throats here. The sheets are stiff with old blood. Several cuts; he wasn’t quick or merciful.”

Hard tremors rocked through her. “What kind of monster
does
this? He treated them like they were animals.”

“Let’s check the barn, then we can see about putting these people to rest, partner.”

Ritsuko couldn’t get out of that room fast enough. Though she had been around corpses before, she’d never
found
one. Always, when she arrived, it was with plenty of forewarning, a proper report filed, and that gave her the time to prepare mental defenses. Tonight, she felt awful and shaky; and she couldn’t stop counting the dead in her head.

Cira Aevar.

Oliver Dinwiddie.

Electra Bihár.

Now they had two more victims. It made no sense that Toombs only killed young women in the convoluted apparatus. Anyone else, apparently, could be dispatched efficiently, or messily, through whatever expedient means fell to hand. Her breathing sounded unsteady in the quiet.
Bronze gods, I hope Mikani can’t tell how scared I am. I’ll never hear the end of it.

Across the yard, the barn loomed.
That must be where he builds the terrible machines.
Feigning bravery she didn’t feel, she marched to the weathered door to examine the shiny padlock clamped to it.

Mikani leaned close at her shoulder, checking the mechanism. He drew out his kit, appeared to give the tools within cursory consideration, and put the case away; apparently, he thought finesse would take too long. He tested the iron rings holding the lock to the door. With a nod, he wedged his walking stick between the padlock and door and pulled, hard, tearing the rings from the old wood with a loud crack.

“Sometimes I think you just keep me around for my larcenous skills.”

Ritsuko whispered, “That, and your manly thews. But how did you know?”

“Caught you looking at my picks more than once. I don’t hear anyone inside.”

“Sense anyone?” Ritsuko readied her weapon, hands shaking. She’d only discharged it at practice targets, but Toombs wouldn’t get away again.

The reward’s dead or alive.

He shook his head. “I can just sense the void. Even you’re . . . blurry.”

A disquieting thought occurred to her. “But if he’s cold, dead, as you’ve said before, how would you
know
?”

Mikani hesitated. “Honestly? I’m guessing.”

“That’s comforting.” With a wry smile, she eased into the storage building, only to draw up short at an ominous click in the darkness. “Mikani . . . what just happened?”

“Don’t move.” He sounded deadly serious; he crouched next to her. “There’s a metal plate on the floor, trap under it, I think. Given what we know of Toombs, I don’t imagine it’s anything good, either. So hold
very
still.”

“Well,” she said quietly. “If this is it, I wouldn’t trade a minute of the past three years. If you don’t mind, put flowers on my grandfather’s grave for me, once a year.”

“Shut up.” Navigating past carefully, he rummaged around nearby. “You’re not leaving me with the paperwork for this.”

Her knees trembled. She felt conscious of every breath she took, every infinitesimal shift. The weight of the gun in her hand grew with each passing second. Fear made her palms slippery, but she couldn’t wipe them. She didn’t dare move.

“Admit it. You’ll be lost without me.”

He dragged a small crate filled with what sounded like metal bits toward her. “There really
is
no satisfying you, is there? On three—”

“You should go. If it goes off during the shift, you’ll be caught, too.” She didn’t want him risking his life for her; it would be better knowing Mikani made it out.

He stood, his features a hard mask of barely controlled anger. “So help me, we both make it out of here or neither. I’m done debating this with you. Like I said, on three.”

In a movement so fast it made her dizzy, he slid the crate onto the plate and curled an arm around her waist. Mikani yanked her all the way off her feet as he sprinted out the door. Behind them, something whirred. And then a thundering concussion blew them forward, a fusillade of copper shards raining down, cutting into the open door and chewing at the frame. Ritsuko landed on her face, and her first reaction was pure surprise. Her back stung, but . . .
I’m still alive.

“One two three.” Mikani rose to his elbows and looked back at the barn, ducking as fragments of metal kept falling. “Damned be. I think most of that mess came from the box of scraps. Guess you’re not as light as I thought, partner.”

“Do you
want
me to hit you?” She dropped her face against her hands and swung like a pendulum between the urge toward tears and hysterical laughter.

He sniffed. “Women usually threaten to hurt me only
after
we’ve moved in together.”

“And thus, you bring up cohabitation for the second time tonight. Ask a third time, Mikani, and I’ll show up with my luggage. It would serve you right.” She pushed out a shaky breath. “Also, thank you for my life.”

He pushed to his feet and offered her a hand up. “Least I could do.”

Ritsuko actually needed his support, between the dizziness and her sore back. While he might be used to it, she tried not to get injured on a weekly basis. When he pulled her upright, she left her hand in his. “And I’m sorry I argued. I just didn’t want anything to happen to you.”

He glanced away, then back at her, his expression inscrutable. “Just what do you think would become of me without you?”

“You’d drink a lot. Sing some sad songs.” She smiled and freed her hand. “At the risk of sounding addled, I’m afraid we need to go back in there. We didn’t have a chance to investigate at all.”

Mikani sighed. “Stubborn, single-minded woman. Let me go first this time.”

CHAPTER 20

T
HAT MORNING,
A
URELIA POSTED A NOTICE AT THE
R
OYALE
that read:
REHEARSAL CANCELED
, then followed Leo out to a waiting hansom. She hadn’t gone home. Instead, she’d spent three days hiding in the theater, and he didn’t argue when she asked him to leave the lamp on. Oh, she’d tried to carry on rehearsals as usual, but she was too nervous, too scattered, and each day, she turned the practice over to an assistant. Even sitting below the stage felt like too much exposure. For the first time, she understood how Leo felt about his mask.

As a measure of how strong his friendship was, he stood outside with her on a sunny morning when he hadn’t left in months. He handed her into the coach and gave the address. She didn’t know if he believed her story, but he said she needed to tell it to the authorities if she felt brave enough. Forty minutes later, she walked through the lobby of CID Headquarters. Aurelia was conscious of the fact that she didn’t look like an upstanding member of society. She’d been forced to bathe as Leo did, and to rummage in the costume department for something suitable to wear.

Leo led the way to the lift, ignoring the looks and whispers about his mask. Once inside the clanking monstrosity, he said, “This will be over soon.”

“I hope so.”

The main room opened up directly from the lift with desks and officers hurrying between them. It was more bustle than she expected, but Leo didn’t let her hang back. He towed her toward the nearest constable. The young man was bright-eyed and crisply pressed in his uniform.
He’ll never believe me.

“I need to report four murders,” she said.

“Four?” The constable set his teacup on the desk, looking flummoxed.

“Don’t you need to write this down?” Leo asked.

“I won’t be taking the report for such a serious crime. I’m not an inspector. Let me see who’s available to take your statement.” He escorted them to a small room with a table and four chairs. “Someone will be with you presently.”

There were no windows, and the walls were painted a grim, industrial gray. “Do you suppose this is where they interrogate the criminals?”

Leo pressed her hand. “I imagine he just wasn’t familiar with the protocol. He looked rather . . . green.”

According to the interminable tick of her pocket watch, it was ten minutes before anyone came. After the door opened, two men stepped through: one was thin, with a sly, narrow face and deep-set eyes; the other had a round belly and had lost most of his hair. The second man should possess a jolly air, but his eyes dispelled that illusion, quiet and hard rather than warm. Neither inspector looked delighted to have caught this task.

“Ma’am. I’m Inspector Shelton,” the thin one said.

The portly man offered his hand; his clasp was damp and cool, like a dead fish. “Cutler. I understand you witnessed a disturbing event recently.”

Forget what they think. You came forward to tell the truth.

In as concise a manner as possible, she related what she’d seen though she omitted the part about Theron’s hands turning into claws. By their impatient expressions, she was straining their credulity with even the edited version of this wild tale. Before she finished, Shelton was drumming his fingertips on the table in a not-so-subtle demand for her to wrap things up.

“Thanks for your civic responsibility, ma’am. The constable you spoke to initially will take your name and address should we have further questions.” By his tone, Cutler didn’t expect that to happen.

“Are you taking this seriously?” Leo demanded.

Shelton smiled, but it wasn’t polite. “It sounds to me like four lowlifes tried to rob the wrong man. No great loss.”

And not worth CID resources,
Aurelia guessed.

“You didn’t see the fight,” she said quietly. “He’s
dangerous
.”

The two inspectors traded a look, then insulting smiles. “That’s all we need.”

There was no point in protesting further; feeling ridiculous and faintly ashamed, she stood.
I hid, fearing reprisal, and they think I’m a hysterical female.
Leo had his hands curled into fists, as if he fought the urge to pummel both of them. She set her hand on his arm, rigid as she’d expected.

“It’s fine. We tried.” But Aurelia had rarely felt so humiliated, so disreputable, as if she were a scorned woman out to make trouble for a man who didn’t want her.

If they discover you’ve had dinner at Theron’s villa, they’ll believe that’s true.

It felt imperative to get out of here, before something worse happened. Leo wrapped his arm around her shoulders, shepherding her toward the door. “Let’s go. What incompetent buffoons,” he added, before they left earshot.

“Which of my esteemed colleagues are you lambasting?” a familiar voice asked.

When Aurelia turned, she recognized Inspectors Mikani and Ritsuko. The former looked worse for the wear, his face so many colors that it could be a work of art. By contrast, his partner reflected cool elegance though her movements appeared too careful, as if she might have a hidden injury.

Shelton and Cutler stepped out of the room behind them. Mikani nodded, then said to Ritsuko, “I’d have laid odds on that.”

Her voice was cool, amused. “You’ll bet on how long it takes to wash my hands.”

“You’ll make these good folks think I’m a degenerate gambler, partner.”

The woman made a shooing motion. “I appreciate your keeping Miss Wright and Mr. Leonidas entertained with your impression of an inspector. Now why don’t you go away and let us work?”

Shelton’s face went red. “One of these days, Miss Ritsuko, I will be very sorry to hear that this job has gotten the best of you.”

False.
Aurelia’s truth-sense told her that Shelton would celebrate if something awful happened to his colleague. She took a step back, bumping against Leo, whose hands lit on her shoulders, steadying her. Possibly it wasn’t fair to drag him into this when he had so much to deal with already: his bereavement, the scars, a struggling theater. Or maybe this was exactly what he needed—a reason to step outside his own problems.

The two pairs of agents stared at each other long and hard, before Cutler sidled away. “This is a waste of time. You want to coddle her? Go ahead.”

“Miss Wright,” Mikani said gently. “I apologize. Those two aren’t smart enough to find their own arses with a map and a compass.”

“Let’s go to the lounge,” Ritsuko suggested.

Leo nodded. “Better than an interrogation room.”

Aurelia registered the silent look the two inspectors exchanged. It consisted of an arched brow, a canted head, and a moue of Mikani’s mouth. If she was interpreting the silent conversation correctly, it went something like this:

Let’s not leave them with
that
impression of the CID.

Agreed. If Leonidas came out of seclusion with her, it must be important.

Right. Tea, then. And we’ll see.

She wondered if the two realized the extent of their rapport; such communication took years to develop. But she was too worried about her own situation to pry into theirs. Five minutes later, she settled into a fairly comfortable chair with a warm mug. Leo sat beside her, seeming marginally more comfortable than he’d been with the other two. These officers had enraged him, but he’d overlook the prior offense for Aurelia’s peace of mind.

“You look shaken,” Ritsuko said softly. “Is this related to Miss Aevar’s death?”

Oh. Of course they think that.

“No. At least, I don’t believe so.” It hadn’t occurred to her that Theron could be connected to the girls who had been murdered.

Yet, he
is
a killer . . .
She knew the difference between a man murdering in cold blood and one acting in self-defense, but he had been
so
brutal. A civilized man would’ve subdued his attackers, if he could, then called the authorities. Theron’s actions left her fearing the worst.

Mikani smiled. “Take your time. The longer we sit with you, the longer I get to put off my paperwork.”

His humor helped; and his partner got out a notebook, proving they didn’t think she was making up stories for attention. This time, she gave her account without the nervous stammering that led Shelton and Cutler to imagine she was a crackpot. Mikani and Ritsuko listened with somber expressions; and this time, she didn’t censor the story at all. Leo pressed her arm when she described Theron’s hands changing, growing ferocious talons, but she wouldn’t recant.

It happened. I’m not out of my mind.

“That’s quite a story,” Mikani said, once she finished.

Hot color washed her cheeks. “I know how it sounds.”

Ritsuko studied her with quiet sympathy. “It was dark. Perhaps you saw some knives and thought—”

“No. I’ve never seen magic like that, nothing so powerful, but I’m
not
crazy.”

“Why were you following him?” Mikani asked.

That was the question the other inspectors hadn’t thought to ask. It also rendered her testimony even shakier. But before she could respond, Leo cut in, “There are four corpses down in the Patchwork. What do you mean to do?”

Aurelia held up a hand, indicating her friend should stand down. “No, it’s fine. I wouldn’t have told the other two, but Inspectors Ritsuko and Mikani deserve the truth.”

She explained the whole story—Theron’s sudden appearance and romantic overtures, her suspicions about his plans, and how she’d taken steps to uncover his true agenda. By the time she finished, the male inspector was studying her as if he couldn’t decide on an appropriate reaction.

Finally, he said, “That was . . . enterprising, but ultimately unwise.”

“I had
no
idea the night would end in so much death,” she snapped.

The female inspector nodded. “Likely you thought you’d catch him meeting with whoever pointed him in your direction.”

Aurelia eased back into her chair, relieved that someone understood. “Precisely; some crony of my father’s, perhaps. I thought he might even be behind Theron’s courtship.”

“He?” Mikani asked.

“My father.”

The two traded another weighted look, then Ritsuko said, “You’re a House scion?”

“My name is legally Aurelia Wright. I haven’t claimed any House affiliation in many years.”

“And what about this Theron? Is he a House scion as well?” Mikani inquired.

She shrugged. “I’ve no idea. I was trying to learn more about him when . . . this happened. I won’t be pursuing his acquaintance further, I assure you.”

“I understand,” Ritsuko said. “We’ll send officers to check the morgue. If four bodies have turned up, as you claim, then we’ll pick Mr. Theron up.”

Mikani added, “But if I’m honest, it’s your word against his. He could claim
you
killed them, and that’s how you knew of the murders.”

Terror clenched her stomach into a knot. “Oh, bronze gods. Will he know that I reported him?”

“Don’t worry.” Ritsuko patted her hand gently. “It’s our policy to keep such matters confidential.”

Aurelia pushed out a hard breath, the cup and saucer clattering in her lap. “If there’s nothing further, I’d like to go home.”

Both inspectors stood, but Mikani spoke. “You’ve given us ample information. We’ll handle it from here.”

She nodded and shook both their hands, then Leo escorted her from the building. “They seemed to take it more seriously at least.”

“Thanks for coming with me.”

He put a protective arm around her shoulders, more like her old friend than he had been since before the accident. Aurelia had thought that man lost forever, drowned in bitterness and loss. “As if I’d let you go through it alone. I’ll see you to your apartment.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Auri,” he said in a tone that brooked no refusal.

A tiny part was glad to see this Leo back. So she didn’t argue. “Very well.”

•   •   •

L
ATER, AFTER A
bath, she felt much better. Leo had arranged with Hargrave for a meal. The covered platters arrived just after she stepped out of the bedroom, dressed in a clean, simple shirtwaist. Leo was arranging the food on her table as she joined him. Before the accident, they had spent many such evenings.

You’re not the only one who’s been lonely.
She’d tried to convey that his looks didn’t matter, but little by little, he’d pulled back until they were barely even friends, more business partners tied by the Royale. Yet he’d come through for her last night and braved his fear of mockery today. He considered himself a monster and expected the world to confirm his fear. It was cowardice that kept him down in that dungeon, paying a woman to pretend to care about him.

“Elaine will be furious,” she said, perching on the edge of the settee.

The broth smelled wonderful, light and clear. Surprise touched her with feathery awareness; he’d remembered that she couldn’t eat a heavy meal after an emotional upset. First, something light, followed by bread. Once her stomach settled, she’d manage more.

“Let me worry about her. And to be honest, I’m too concerned about you to care for her pique.”