Mr. Pennybaker excused himself to fetch more hot water and clean bandages, leaving me alone with Sir Hugo. The head of Special Branch fixed me with an impassive stare. His eyes were deeply shadowed and there were new hollows beneath his cheeks, new silver threads in his dark hair. The Ripper case was clearly wearing hard upon him, and I knew he felt the failure of bringing it to a close every moment.
“I wish I could say you looked well,” I began.
His smile was slow in coming. “It would be ungentlemanly of me to remark that you are looking less than bandbox perfection yourself, Miss Speedwell.”
“Most ungentlemanly,” I agreed. “Did you receive my note?”
“I did. It arrived concurrent with Mornaday’s urgent summons to this location. Providentially, I was in the office at the time. I should like to point out that you omitted to relate several key pieces of information,” he said with his customary severity.
“I thought you rather had your hands full with the Ripper investigation. This seemed less important.” I gave him a grin, which he did not return.
“Your consideration does you credit,” he told me.
“What will happen now?” I inquired.
He sighed. “What do you think?”
“That you cannot risk opening an investigation,” I said simply. “A public inquest would bring it all to light—my uncle’s plans, my identity. It would accomplish almost what de Clare intended in the first place, would it not?” I did not wait for him to reply. “And, perhaps more damning, it would expose Archibond, a member of your own force, as an anarchist just when you cannot afford the disapprobation of the public.”
“They already hate and fear us for not bringing this monster to justice,” he said, clearly reluctant to speak the fiend’s name. “They call us incompetent and corrupt and brand us as failures because we cannot solve the insoluble. If we permit this case to become public, it would indeed prove a blow from which the dignity of the royal family—indeed the Empire itself—could not recover.”
“Did Archibond have family?” I asked.
He shrugged. “A sister who kept house for him. She is the only one who will care when he does not come home.”
“What will you tell her?”
“The same as we will tell the rest of the Yard—that Archibond was in pursuit of a criminal and died in the attempt. The criminal escaped. The doctors at the Yard will certify Archibond’s death as a fall, and he will be given a quiet hero’s funeral. It is better than he deserves.”
“And de Clare and his man?”
Sir Hugo considered this. “The Thames carries all sorts of refuse out to sea,” he said after a moment. “And what is carried away does not come back.”
I nodded. “It is a kindness to preserve the fiction of Archibond’s respectability for his sister’s sake.”
“It is more for the sake of my men,” he said with more candor than I expected. “Their morale is at low ebb at present. I could not countenance breaking it further. Those who are here today are my most trusted juniors. They will die before they reveal what he was. And it is a good secret to die with.”
He gave me a tired smile. “And you will go on about your life,” he said firmly. “Without meddling in matters you oughtn’t.”
“Certainly,” I said in a milky tone whose blandness did not fool him for a moment. His expression turned severe.
“You have had enough lucky escapes to do credit to a cat,” he told me. “One might even say you were born under a lucky star.”
He reached into his pocket and drew out the diamond star that had been the source of all our troubles. He held it out to me and I took it, marveling at the heft. Illumination broke across the surface, glittering in the gaslight.
“Where did you find it?”
“Archibond had it in his pocket. My man turned it over when Mornaday and I were in conference.”
I handed it back to him. He regarded me in obvious surprise. “I thought you might like to return it yourself.”
“No, thank you,” I said firmly. “I have had quite enough adventure for the moment.”
He gave me an enigmatic look. “I am glad to hear it, although I think I shall believe it when I see it, Miss Speedwell.”
He shook hands and left me then, just as Mornaday returned, looking a little green for his recent exertions. Mr. Pennybaker entered with a fresh can of hot water, his eyes shadowed with fatigue, but he would not rest with unfinished business.
“What about you now, Miss Speedwell?”
“What about me?” I inquired.
He looked at my arm. “My dear, didn’t you realize? You have been shot.”
I glanced down at the sleeve of my jacket where a neat hole formed the black heart of a rose of blood. “Mornaday,” I said distinctly. “I do hope you won’t hurt yourself when you catch me.”
And before he could respond, I pitched headlong into blackness.
* * *
• • •
When I awoke, the first exquisite sensation was one of floating, just resting gently upon a golden cloud that drifted on a golden sea. I shifted slightly and a shaft of pain ripped through my arm.
“Mind you move slowly,” said a familiar voice. “If you tear out those stitches, Pennybaker will have my guts for garters. He told me to watch over you.”
I opened my eyes to find J. J. Butterworth sitting on a chair, her eyes deeply shadowed, but her mouth curved into a smile. A line of sunlight fell upon the carpet at her feet.
“Stoker,” I said, barely forming the words through lips so parched I could scarcely speak.
“Awake before you, and now out again,” she told me. She rose and put a cup to my lips. Water, that most precious, most delicious libation. I drank greedily until she took the cup away. “Not so fast. You will heave it all up again if you aren’t careful. It is the ether making you thirsty. I will give you another drink in ten minutes if you stay awake.”
I forced my eyes wider. I turned my head, that strange and floating balloon that seemed oddly detached from my body. I tried to move, but my legs refused to answer, weighted and dead.
“I am paralyzed,” I murmured, closing my eyes.
J. J. snorted. “You are not paralyzed. Vespertine is lying on your legs.”
I opened my eyes again to see the great shaggy beast draped over my lower limbs, head heavy upon my stomach, eyes gazing up at me in anxious adoration.
“He refused to leave you,” she told me, ruffling his ears fondly. “I wanted to keep him for myself, but he has attached himself to you.”