Page 86 of Disturbing the Dead
The woman pokes and prods the hand with a metal probe, not unlike what Gray and Isla might use. She also employs a magnifying glass.
“I will accept this as genuine,” she says. “Where did you obtain such a thing?”
Queen Mab answers for me. “It was found quite by accident, by someone who did not recognize it for what it was, but my friend here did. It has been in her possession, and when I mentioned needing something to trade, she remembered this.”
The woman keeps examining it, not raising her veiled head as she says, “You should tell your employer to be more careful, child. He already has a reputation as a ghoul. Being seen purchasing such a thing would not help.”
I try not to react and keep my gaze on the hand.
“I do not believe we said she was here on behalf of any employer,” Queen Mab says smoothly.
The woman turns to Queen Mab. “Please give me some small credit for intelligence, old friend. I might not be a detective myself, but I can put together simple clues, enough to know I am speaking to an actual detective. Or, at least, the assistant to one.”
When we don’t answer, a sigh ripples her veil. “You said it was purchased by someone who did not know what it was. How many people do you think see a severed hand in a shop and declare they must have it?”
“More than you might imagine,” I murmur.
“Perhaps, but I also know your question is connected to the mummy murder. You are seeking information on selling a mummy but not seeking to actually sell one. That told me I was almost certainly speaking to the young lady from The Mysterious Adventures of the Gray Doctor.”
“The what?” Queen Mab says.
“Is everyone reading it?” I mutter.
“I am not,” Queen Mab says. “I do not even know what ‘it’ is.”
“Someone is fictionalizing Dr. Gray’s investigations,” I say. “And doing a very poor job of it, too.”
The woman looks my way. “You mean your role is not to examine imaginary bits of evidence on the floor, as an excuse to put your pretty bum in the air?”
Queen Mab snorts. “Now I do need to read them.” She addresses the other woman: “Does it matter who my friend is?”
“It might. While this Hand of Glory gets my attention, I could not use it myself. I would need to trade it, which is too much trouble. Also, it is an unfair trade. That hand is more valuable than my information. What I would like in exchange is what I trade with you, Mab. Except from the good doctor’s sister.”
I frown at Queen Mab.
Queen Mab sighs and says to me, “I offer my services as a herbalist, mixing her ingredients into concoctions that require my skill and equipment. She would be asking the same from Mrs. Ballantyne.”
“I can’t agree to that on Mrs. Ballantyne’s behalf,” I say.
“Understood,” the woman says. “I will tell you how to contact me with the answer, and when I have it, I will give you what you need.”
“Is there anything I can offer instead?”
“I do not think so, child, as your only skill seems to be picking up imaginary evidence off the floor, and I fear I am the wrong audience for such delights.”
I can’t see her face, but her tone says she’s teasing. Still, I say, “I would really rather not pass on the burden for this to another.”
“It will not be onerous,” Queen Mab says. “She mostly wants to make Mrs. Ballantyne’s acquaintance, to add a chemist to her resources.”
I’m not happy about it, but it’s obvious that I’m not making any other deal here, and Queen Mab seems satisfied with the one being offered. That means it’s as good as I’m getting. Like she said, the hand mostly bought me credibility. It’s not actually going to buy what I need.
As we’re leaving, Queen Mab says, “I know you do not wish to put this responsibility on Mrs. Ballantyne, but it is not your responsibility to take either. You are trying to solve a murder, one a case for which Dr. Gray isn’t even being paid.”
I say nothing.
“You are not getting this information for your own use,” she says.
“I would still rather pay for it myself.”
