Page 77 of Disturbing the Dead
“Handsome widowed sister,” I say.
She rolls her eyes. “Yes, but there is no mention of my chemistry, even when it played into the last case. My sense is that we are not looking at a writer who is part of our social circle, even our wider circle. This is a stranger who has absorbed Duncan’s story through the papers and broadsheets and maybe uncovered a tidbit or two through gossip, but has stitched the rest out of whole cloth.”
“I think you’re right,” I say. “Which is not going to help us get rid of these. Or even just control the narrative.”
“That is why you have Jack,” she says. “We believe she works in this milieu. Let her investigate. We have a murder to solve, and Mallory has an underground market to infiltrate.”
“Not until this evening. It is only…” I check my pocket watch and curse.
“Teatime,” Isla says. “You both missed lunch, and so I shall insist on tea. Later, we must find you proper attire for your mysterious late-night excursion.”
We’d hoped for an update from McCreadie, but he’s obviously busy with the case. After tea, Isla slips off, saying we will worry about my outfit later. Gray and I spend some time in the lab with the Hand of Glory, in case I need to give it away tonight.
After dinner, Isla enlists help designing my costume. Who she enlists has me doing a double take.
“Mrs. Wallace?” I say, and then look at the housekeeper’s hands, expecting to see she’s only bringing something into Isla’s rooms. They’re empty.
“Mrs. Wallace has graciously agreed to help us with your outfit for this evening,” Isla says as she closes the door behind the housekeeper.
“Er…” I say.
“That was a thank-you,” Isla says to Mrs. Wallace. “Mallory is struck dumb with appreciation.”
“I do appreciate it,” I say. “I just…” I glance at Isla. “Have you explained where I’m going?”
“Not yet.”
Oh, this should be fun.
“I decided you can do the honors,” Isla says to me.
Double fun.
“Er, uh…” I glance at Isla. “I’m not sure how much I should say.” When she doesn’t seem ready to help, I turn to Mrs. Wallace. “We are working on the investigation, obviously. There is reason to believe that the, uh, mummified remains may have been taken for, uh, medical reasons. Medicine, that is.”
“Mummia,” Mrs. Wallace says. “I have heard of it. Ridiculous notion, but one cannot blame people for being willing to ingest almost anything that might restore their health.”
“Right. Yes. So that’s what we think, but it’s no longer readily available, so if the remains are sold, they’d be sold at a black—at a market for illegal and mystical substances.”
Her eyes narrow. “You are planning to go to the underground market?”
“You’ve heard of it?”
She answers with a snort and then says, “If you are counting on the ‘old’ Catriona having contacts that will allow her into the market, you will find yourself stopped at the entrance. If you can even find the entrance, which I doubt. I myself have never gained admittance, and I was more than a mere thief.”
I open my mouth to ask what she was then, but this isn’t the time—and I know she won’t answer.
“That part is handled,” I say. “Someone is taking me there and getting me in.”
Her eyes narrow more. “Who would have the influence to not only obtain entry but to be able to take a guest? No one short of—” She rocks back on her heels. “You are working with Queen Mab.”
“We are working with someone,” I say firmly. “I can divulge no more.”
“It must be Queen Mab. I wondered whether you had approached her during the case with Lady Annis. I know it was whispered that she was responsible for selling the poison that killed those men. Now you have made a contact, which you are using.” Her eyes are all but slits now. “Does she know who you are?”
“Whoever is helping us knows I am Dr. Gray’s assistant. That is enough.”
Mrs. Wallace makes a shockingly rude noise. “That is certainly not enough. Someone must tell her who you are.”
