The Numbered Corpses (Elysium #4)

Chapter Nine

There were still roaches clinging to Trinket's skirts when she returned home. She absentmindedly brushed them away and hung up her shawl on the coat rack as she played back her conversation with Scales, berating herself for how stupid she'd been to talk to him in such a brazen manner. When she lived with her family, she hadn't even dared to stand up to her mother, and she wasn't nearly as terrifying as Scales. How had she become such a risk-taker?

"Ah, good, you're home."

Pulling herself from her frazzled thoughts, she found Booker peeking out from the parlour, a cheerful smile lighting up his face. The sight of him warmed her heart and chased away the chill that had settled in her bones.

"How did the fact-finding mission go?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe.

One of the roaches had made its way onto her shoulder and was now tickling her cheek with its wispy antennae. "She didn't see much, but what she did observe seems to point to Benedict as the one who left the frog," she replied, clutching her skirts to resist brushing away the imaginary insect.

Booker's smile grew. He looped his arm around her waist and led her into the parlour where a platter of toast, crumpets, cheese, and fruit awaited, along with tea for two. Her appetite was minuscule after the incident with Scales, but she appreciated the gesture all the same.

She settled onto the settee and straightened her skirts as an excuse to shake out the roaches that were still there.

"So, what did our favorite criminal shopkeeper see?" Booker asked as he sat beside her, handing her a cup filled with what smelled like ginger and peach tea.

"When she heard someone at the front door, she peered outside and saw a tall figure, most definitely male. However, by the time she got downstairs, he was gone."

As she sipped her tea, Booker scratched his chin and stared off at the fireplace in thought. "Yes, Benedict was rather tall, even as a youth."

"And 'tall' is one of the characteristics noted by those who've seen him. Both Daphne and Tory mentioned it."

"Good point. I wonder if others have caught a glimpse of this 'tall stranger' leaving bodies throughout the city. Perhaps we should ask around."

"Do you think he himself was leaving the bodies?"

"What do you mean?"

"Would he have done the legwork? Or would he have paid someone else to do it, to stay out of sight?"

"Ah, that's a possibility."

"At the very least, he'd need help. It took nearly three of us to drag that squirrel woman home."

"True. Maybe he's found a partner to aid him in his experiments."

A shadow fell over his expression, and Trinket acted quickly. "I highly doubt that's the case. Benedict probably hired someone from the slums to do the heavy lifting."

Booker nodded firmly, as if trying to convince himself. "Yes, that would make sense." He turned back to her, that easy smile gracing his face once again as he put an arm around her shoulders. "How was Emma? As prickly as she was last night?"

Taking another sip of tea, Trinket raised her eyebrows. "She was less than pleased to see me."

"But you won her over with your charm?"

She laughed. "I think it was more my humiliation."

"What do you mean?"

Setting the teacup and saucer down, she turned to face him. "Are you aware half the city is gossiping about us?"