The Numbered Corpses (Elysium #4)

Chapter Two

Booker wasted no time kneeling beside the corpse to examine it. Trinket drew a deep breath and joined him, ready to catch even the smallest detail with her keen sense of observation. The dead man was no one she knew from Tinkerfall, but since she'd only lived in the city for less than six months, she couldn't boast familiarity with every citizen like Gin had been able to. He was fully clothed, and based on the smell and state of decay, he'd been dead for a few days.

"There's no sign of heavy bleeding around the numbers," Booker said, eyeing the man's carved forehead.

"So they were put there after he'd expired," Trinket said. "That matches up with what Benedict's done before."

"Out of the way!"

Someone grabbed hold of Trinket's shoulder and yanked her onto her feet. She turned to find herself in the grasp of a tall police officer with a very red nose. He was glaring at Booker, whom he held tight by the jacket with his other hand. Booker's look of utter frustration bordered on disgust as he fixed his gaze on the officer.

"Sir, if you'd just allow me—"

"Get out of here, Larkin," the officer growled, getting in Booker's face. "You're nothing but trouble."

"Yes, but if you'd—"

"Ever since you teamed up with this little assistant of yours," the officer gave Trinket a shake, "dead bodies've been popping up all across the city."

"Right, so who better to help you investigate the deaths than us?"

Scoffing, the officer shoved them back into the growing crowd and motioned for his fellow constables to follow him. "Come on, boys. Let's get this thing to the station."

Booker's eyes were glued to the corpse, his jaw clenched and a muscle in his cheek twitching as he watched the officers surround the dead body. Worried that he might force his way into the scene and get arrested again, Trinket took hold of his arm.

"Come on, let's go finish our dinner," she said, leading him away from the crowd and towards the Clocktower. "If you don't eat something soon, you may pass out."

"I've lost my appetite," Booker mumbled, craning his neck to glance back at the body.

"With dead bodies littering the streets, I can see why."

"Why do they do this to me?"

"Because you are simply a citizen, Booker."

"'Simply a citizen'? Really?"

They stopped in front of the door to the alehouse, and Trinket cocked an eyebrow at him. "Your ego does not help you in situations like this, Mr. Larkin. Let's go pay for our uneaten slop and then return home to discuss things over tea and crumpets. Don't tell me you've lost your appetite for tea and crumpets?"

He finally tore his gaze away from the police and smiled at her. "How is it you're both the emotionally cognizant one and the sensible one in this relationship?"

Rising up on her toes, she planted a kiss on his cheek and gave him a teasing grin. "Well, you can't have brains, beauty, and common sense, now, can you? What would that leave for me?"

"Oh, you most certainly surpass me in beauty, my dear. And you give me a run for my money with regard to brains, too." He held the door open for her. "But you're also a bad influence, it seems. Or at least according to that bloody bobby back there."

Trinket laughed softly as they returned to their table. "You yourself admitted to my corrupting influence, did you not?"

Taking her arm, he gave it a gentle squeeze. "If only they knew how sweet and innocent you were before I got my scalpels in you."