The Invisible Library (16 page)

‘Irene!’ Kai said from behind her, far too loudly. ‘Are you awake?’

‘Yes,’ she murmured, ‘but please don’t shout.’ She pulled herself upright and managed to knock the horsehair cushion to the ground. ‘Sorry. Where are
we?’

‘In my rooms.’ Peregrine Vale stepped forward. ‘Mr Strongrock brought you here an hour ago. Miss Winters, you have been the victim of an appalling assault. Do you feel well
enough to speak?’

Irene put her undamaged hand to her head. ‘I’m so sorry. I have a dreadful headache,’ she said, not entirely untruthfully, ‘and I don’t know what’s going on.
The last thing I remember is touching this door handle which was booby-trapped . . .’

‘It was some sort of electric shock,’ Kai said helpfully. He went down on one knee next to her, looking up into her face. ‘I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to try to
get somewhere safe while we worked out what to do next, Irene. The only person who I was sure we could trust was the Earl of Leeds here—’

‘Please,’ Vale interrupted, ‘call me Vale. The title is unimportant. What
is
important now is locating and arresting the fiends who set this lethal trap.’

‘Well, I . . .’ Irene tried to think what to say next. ‘I . . .’

Vale held up a commanding hand. ‘Say no more. I am aware that Mr Strongrock here is your subordinate.’

‘Oh,’ Irene said.

‘It was blatantly obvious,’ Vale went on. ‘Your signals to him in the restaurant, your ability to handle yourself in combat, and his unwillingness to speak while you were
unconscious – these all made it quite clear that you were in command of the mission. Miss Winters, I realize that you have your own agenda, but I ask you – I appeal to you – to
trust me. I believe that our aims are congruent. I think we can help each other.’

‘Then Kai’s told you . . .’ Irene let the sentence trail off meaningfully. This wasn’t what she’d wanted. The man was a near-total stranger to her. However
impressive his skills were, and while he fitted the character type of nobleman, so he should understand the principles of noblesse oblige well enough, there was still risk. There was always a risk.
She was supposed to be manipulator, not manipulated.

Her hand hurt. It was distracting her.

‘He has told me nothing,’ Vale said, and Kai nodded in agreement. ‘He turned up in a cab on my doorstep with you unconscious in his arms, and he asked for shelter until you
were awake again.’

Irene pushed straggling tendrils of hair back from her forehead. She didn’t have to feign pain or confusion. ‘I don’t think that we’re the only ones keeping secrets here,
Mr Vale. The attack on you last night was too deliberately timed to be coincidence.’ It was a guess on her part, but it hit a mark; his eyelids twitched very slightly. She looked up at him.
‘I think there’s more to all this – the murder, the theft of the book, Belphegor – than just a simple crime of greed. When we met last night, you referred to “thefts
of occult material”. This isn’t the only book that’s gone missing, is it?’

Vale threw himself down into another armchair. ‘You’re correct, Miss Winters. Oh, sit down, sit down, Strongrock. To be frank, I need people that I can trust. The Fair Folk have
contacts at every level of society. My enemies have even more. You two are strangers in London, and though you have no apparent links to the Fae, you have nobody to vouch for you or speak in your
favour. I may have reasons to believe that you are reliable . . .’ He frowned. ‘No. Leave that for the moment. I will explain my part in this affair, and then perhaps you will explain
yours.’

Irene looked down at her hand. She wished she could rip off the bandages and see just how bad it was – surely not a permanent injury? It was that infernal urge that came with any injury,
wanting to see how it ‘looked’ every minute of the day, as if she’d actually be able to see it getting better or worse. And if it did get worse, if she’d damaged herself for
life? She couldn’t stand the thought of being crippled . . . but investigating would have broken the flow of Vale’s confidences, and she needed his information. ‘Please,’
she said softly, looking up from her hand and trying to stop herself fiddling with the bandages. ‘Please, do go on.’

Vale interlaced his fingers. ‘When I introduced myself as the Earl of Leeds, it was accurate enough, but it is not a title that I care to use often. The dark associations of the city of
Leeds and its Earls go back to King Edward’s reign in the fourteenth century. I broke from my family under – under somewhat unpleasant conditions, and have no wish for further
connection with them. My father is dead, and I cannot be disinherited, but equally I have no interest in the family lands, properties and secrets.’

‘Is that why you live in London?’ Kai asked. Irene stole a glance at him. He was leaning forward with an expression of keen interest, but there were lines of clear disapproval in his
face. His mouth was pursed in what was very nearly a censorious frown.

Vale nodded. ‘My family have no interest in seeing me, nor I them. They hope that I will not marry, and that the title will pass to my brother Aquila. However, a week ago I received a
letter from my – ’ he hesitated a moment – ‘my mother.’ The words came with difficulty. ‘She wished to advise me of a theft which had taken place, and to ask me,
as detective if not as son . . .’ He fell silent for a moment, staring at his fingers as if they were somehow stained. ‘To ask me if I would investigate the matter for her.’

‘And the subject of the theft?’ Irene enquired delicately.

‘A book,’ Vale said. ‘It was a family journal – that is, not a printed work, but a collection of handwritten notes and studies, herbal references and fairy
tales.’

‘Fairy tales,’ Kai said slowly.

Vale nodded. ‘You will see why I am intrigued by Lord Wyndham’s murder and the disappearance of his book. Taken in conjunction with certain other thefts which have taken place, it
suggests a culmination of events. None of the other thefts have involved murder. And as for the explosion last night beneath the Opera—’

‘What?’ Irene said, coming upright.

‘Ah, you wouldn’t have read the morning paper yet,’ Vale said. ‘The incident bears the hallmarks of secret society activity. A number of cellars were collapsed, but the
foundations seem to be undamaged. The police have not requested my assistance – ’ Irene could almost hear the unspoken
yet
– ‘so I can only make do with the public
reports.’

‘But what makes you think this is connected with the thefts?’ Kai asked.

‘Two things,’ Vale said. ‘Firstly, the timing. It took place the very night after the airships arrived in convoy from Liechtenstein. I do not think that I need to remind you
about that.’ He looked up from his contemplation of his fingers. ‘And secondly . . .’ He hesitated again before continuing. ‘My family was involved with a certain society,
and they believe it was connected with the loss of their book. The same group met beneath the Opera.’

‘You’re being very careful not to name that society, Mr Vale,’ Irene commented.

‘Indeed I am,’ Vale said.

‘Are they connected to the Fair Folk?’ she probed.

Vale laughed, a surprised bark of a laugh. ‘My dear Miss Winters! Show me a society that
isn’t
connected to the Fair Folk. I suppose you could say no more than most of
them.’

‘And its connection to Liechtenstein?’ she continued.

‘Ah. Now here we come to the nub of the problem.’ Vale frowned. ‘I should probably have offered you tea. I do apologize. I always forget that sort of thing. But in any case,
from what I’ve heard, the Liechtenstein Fair Folk are very definitely not affiliated with – well, let us call them the Society. So the Ambassador’s arrival, just before the
Society was targeted in this way, is notable for its timing.’

‘You think
he
caused the explosion?’ Kai asked. ‘Or the Society? Or were they the targets of the explosion?’

‘Possible.’ Vale waved a hand. ‘Possible. Certainly it is worthy of further investigation. And now, Miss Winters, Mr Strongrock, since I have done my part and told you why I am
involved in all of this, I ask you to do the same.’ He leaned forward in his chair, his eyes hooded, and Irene wondered how much of what he’d said had been a carefully constructed
bluff.
Trust me. I’ve told you everything. Really I have. Now it’s your turn.
‘If we are to progress, then there must be some trust on both sides.’

Irene held up her good hand before Kai could speak. ‘Before that, Mr Vale, I’d like the answer to one more question.’

‘Within reason, I am at your disposal,’ Vale said.

‘Why do you feel that you can trust us?’ she asked. Certainly she’d like to cooperate with him. It would make matters much easier; it might even make success in this mission
possible, as opposed to out of the question. But it might also be a trap.

He might even be Alberich. How could she tell? The very thought made her swallow, and made her bandaged hand throb and twinge again.

‘That is a fair question,’ Vale allowed. ‘I will be honest with you. I do have a few gifts from my family heritage. One of them is – well, not exactly prognostication,
but an ability to tell when something is going to be important in my future. I have used it to advantage in a number of my cases, though I do not discuss it with the public. When I met Mr
Strongrock the other day, I
knew
, in a way which I fear I cannot describe to you, that he was going to be closely involved with me in the near future. I had the same sensation upon meeting
you, Miss Winters. On assessment of your characters, I choose to assume that you will be my allies rather than my enemies. I hope that you will not disappoint me.’

Irene glanced at Kai for a moment. He shrugged neutrally. But it wasn’t as if it was his decision, in any case; this wasn’t a democracy and he wasn’t an equal partner. The
decision, the risks and the potential for disaster were all hers.

Vale’s story hung together and made sense, which was more than one could usually expect of events. More than that, Irene had the feeling that she could trust him. She
wanted
to
trust him. (Should that in itself make her suspicious?) And there was nothing that said they had to tell him everything. And this was only a single mission, after all. They could leave this entire
alternate behind them, and he’d have no way to follow them. There wouldn’t be any repercussions afterwards. And, well – if he
had
been Alberich, then they’d already
be dead. Just like Dominic Aubrey.

She made her decision, and leaned forward to offer her good hand. ‘Mr Vale, I am grateful for what you have said. I believe we can cooperate.’

Vale smiled briefly, and clasped her hand. ‘Thank you. Then perhaps you can tell me about yourselves?’

Irene glanced at Kai. ‘You have already made it clear that you believe we’re not English.’

‘Indeed not,’ Vale said crisply. ‘Nor are you Canadians.’

‘Ah,’ Irene said, and quickly rephrased her next statement. ‘We are representatives of – a Society. You will understand if we don’t name it, I hope.’

Vale’s smile was a little bitter. ‘If you can vouch for its good intentions, that will be sufficient.’

‘I can vouch for its non-interference,’ Irene said scrupulously. ‘We’re after one thing: the book that was stolen from Lord Wyndham’s house. We arrived here with
the intention of purchasing it,’
well, that would have been one option
, ‘only to find the man, ah, vampire, murdered, and the book stolen. Now we want to recover it. If together
we can discover the truth behind the book thefts, the murder, and the explosion, well, that would surely be the best of all possible ends.’
And
, she thought privately,
the Library
might be interested in those other books as well. Except for the one from Vale’s family. That one they could afford to give back, and he’d appreci
ate it.

‘And your enemy?’ Vale gestured at Irene’s bandaged hand.

‘We only have his name,’ Irene said. It was probably safe enough to give that. ‘Alberich.’

Vale shook his head. ‘I know no player in London by that name. But for the moment, yes: I think we can work together.’

‘Excuse me,’ Kai said. Irene turned to look up at him. He was clearly holding himself in check with a great effort. ‘May I speak to Miss Winters alone for a moment?’

‘Certainly,’ Vale said. He rose from his chair. ‘I will have some tea fetched. That is – your Society does drink tea?’

‘Always,’ Irene said.