Jacob Marber, she was thinking. For God’s sake. Hunting Berghast’s son.
Well, much luck to him. The world was wide and the finding hard. Hadn’t it taken Henry himself eight years to trace the child, and that with a glyphic to find the way? What made Jacob imagine he could do it quicker?
But there were pressing affairs here as well, she reminded herself. The examination, for one. Charles Ovid would need to be assessed for his talent, a plate of his likeness taken by the photographers down the street, a file made up. She’d prepared the room under the house already, even before she’d brought Walter back to the flat; all was ready. There was that, at least.
She stopped just inside the iron gate at 23 Nickel Street West and opened the pies with her thumbs and took out a small packet of powder and mixed it into the meat. Then, in the parlor, she gave the boy all three pies, and took up a candle in its dish and went upstairs. It would take some minutes for the powder to take effect, she knew. There was little rush. She found Coulton in Walter Laster’s room.
A second candle burned at the bedside. Coulton stood over the litch, turning his hat in his hands, his whiskers wild and scraggly. In the candle fire his eyes were shining.
“So he’s back, then,” he said softly, not looking at her. “That’s what this means. Jacob Marber has returned.”
“Yes,” said Margaret.
“Look what he’s done. Walter, the stupid bugger.” Coulton put his hat on the edge of the bed, ran his fingers through his thinning hair. “You can’t keep him here, Margaret. It isn’t safe. Not for the boy, not for any of us. Jesus, you don’t even know if them ropes is strong enough.”
“They’re strong enough.”
“Is there a lock on that door?”
“He’ll stay put.”
“Maybe when he’s sleeping. But when he comes to? What do you aim to do with him?”
“Take him to Cairndale, of course.”
Coulton laughed. “Sure. And maybe feed him a kid or two while he’s waiting?”
She knew it sounded mad. She met Coulton’s gaze and saw his expression darken.
“You’re serious. To the institute? What the devil for? Can he even pass through the wards?”
She set the candle down in its dish and glanced out into the hall to be sure the boy was nowhere near and then she clasped her hands in front of her. “He’s our only direct link to Jacob. We’d be foolish not to use him.”
“Use him how? He’s just a dog off its leash.”
“He can be rather talkative for a dog, Mr. Coulton. He’s already offered some interesting insights into Jacob Marber. For instance, it seems Jacob left him here in London with a task. He has been searching,” and here Margaret lowered her voice, “for a keywrasse.”
In the silence that followed, Coulton scratched at his whiskers. “Well … that doesn’t sound … good,” he said slowly.
She watched him. “You have no idea what that is, do you?”
“None at all.”
“A weapon, Mr. Coulton. A very powerful weapon. It would be of great consequence to Jacob, should he acquire it. Needless to say, he will not succeed. Especially with his loyal Walter locked up at Cairndale. Besides,” she added, “I rather expect Dr. Berghast will want to examine Walter in person.”
Coulton massaged the meat of one hand, working its fingers in a fist. “Aye,” he said reluctantly. “What’s that you been feeding him? It isn’t tar? Where’d you get a twist of the poppy?”
“I have my resources, Mr. Coulton. The same as you.”
“We should just kill the bugger right now.” He leaned over the unmoving form of what had once been Walter Laster. “If we even know how to do that. You got to dig around in there, cut out the heart. Isn’t that how it goes?”
“You’re the one who knows about litches. You encountered one before, didn’t you?”
Coulton grimaced. “Aye. Years ago, in Japan.”
“How did you destroy that one?”
“It weren’t me what done it. It were the litch’s maker.”
“Mm. We could ask her.”
Coulton sighed, and for a moment she saw in the candlelight the compassion that was in him, that was a part of him, that he hid with his gruffness. “It were a terrible thing, Margaret,” he said, “what happened there. I wouldn’t want to ask the poor girl. She don’t need to go through it all again.” He went to the window and lifted the gauzy curtain and stared out at the encroaching dark.