Bronze Gods Read online

  “I’ll be brief,” she said. “I have a note here from you to Theron Nuall. It’s of the utmost importance that you tell me what information you meant.”

  Erebos scowled, leaning back in his creaking chair. “That’d be Mr. Nuall’s and my business, now wouldn’t it, Inspector? It seems outright illegal to be inquiring into it just like that.”

  “It’s also illegal to murder young girls. I said you weren’t a suspect, but if you protect a killer voluntarily, I have no choice but to assume you’re a willing accomplice.” Her voice was hard, so there could be no mistaking her intent.

  That’s not a threat; it’s a promise.

  The man hesitated, drumming thick fingers on his desk. “Murder is . . . bad for business. If he’s involved in that, you’d put him away, aye? Maybe even the noose?”

  “I can’t guarantee what his sentence will be. That’s up to the judge. But he certainly won’t be around to demand your time.” She thought that was what he was driving at. “Or take you away from more lucrative pursuits.”

  “The right bastard’s been a thorn in my side since he showed up.” He shook his head, digging through his desk. “Very well. I want it clear, I’m merely an information broker here. I had no idea what he was planning to do with this.”

  “So noted. What do you have?” Ritsuko held out a hand, for she’d found it was best to assume people would give her what she wanted.

  Erebos held out a folded piece of paper. “He won’t come looking for this, will he?” He looked nervous, his fingers trembling slightly.

  Ritsuko glanced at Mikani, wondering if he had the same idea. “If he does, give it to him. I’ll just write a copy of it. But if he comes to see you, try to find out where he’s heading next. Then send word to us immediately.”

  Mikani stepped forward. “Don’t try to stop him, don’t let him know we’re looking for him. The farther away you keep from him—”

  “The happier I’ll be,” the criminal muttered.

  Ritsuko took the sheet from Erebos and unfolded it. She skimmed it, and her breath caught. “Names. Five of them.”

  It’s a death list. Her fingers trembled when she showed the page to Mikani, because she didn’t trust herself to reveal the rest out loud. Do I sound as frightened as I feel? She scrawled them in her notebook while trying to calm down. But she couldn’t forget Mikani’s vision, or his sense there would be a third victim.

  Her partner swore quietly and turned for the door. “Cira Aevar’s on here. Electra. And Miss Wright, along with two others. We need to send constables to check on them. Nuall might be heading for one of them even now.”

  Ritsuko handed the paper back to Erebos. “Thanks for your time.”

  The men in the warehouse watched her leave, Mikani at her side, but they didn’t interfere. Their card game continued, and Ritsuko was relieved when the night air hit her, even cold and wet as it felt.

  She rubbed her eyes. “If we have more yet to do, I need coffee. Or . . . something illegal. I’m on my last legs.”

  Her partner chuckled wryly. “Let’s get our people moving, then get some rest. I don’t think either of us will be of much use tonight. And I’d rather not corrupt you further, partner. You’re already dressing like me.”

  For once, she was too tired to argue.

  CHAPTER 27

  “YOU’RE A LITTLE LATE,” MIKANI OBSERVED, AS RITSUKO strode into the duty room the next morning. It was nearly noon, and he’d been at work for over an hour already.

  Actually, I was about to go check on you.

  “I had some errands.” Her brow was a bit damp, as if she’d been running up and down flights of stairs. “They took longer than I expected.”

  “Problem?” He was a bit surprised to hear she’d managed to do anything but sleep, but that was Ritsuko. She hadn’t risen to inspector by failing to exceed expectation.

  “Just personal business. What do you have there?”

  Mikani had found a report waiting in his bin; he scanned it while Ritsuko checked her messages. “Two of these girls aren’t in House holdings . . . but it seems they’re keeping better track of their errant daughters these days. One of them’s renting a studio not far from here. Shall we check on her?”

  “Certainly. I have some questions.”

  He glanced at her. A night’s rest had done them both a world of good; they no longer looked like they’d just crawled out of a weeklong bender. Well, she doesn’t, anyway. But then, Ritsuko’s always cleaned up well.

  “I’ve a shortage of answers, but shoot.”

  Ritsuko laughed, a rueful tone to it. “I meant for the girl.”

  “Very well. I’ll drive, you question them.”

  Nodding, she fetched her jacket from the coatroom. Mikani sometimes slung his over the back of his chair, but not Ritsuko. She was tidier than that. It was hardly worth it to hang it up, no longer than she’s staying. As she shrugged into it, he caught sight of five purple marks on her arm.

  “That looks . . . Did one of those thugs grab you?”

  He stepped closer. I wasn’t paying attention, damn it. Should’ve gotten some reinforcements before we rushed in.

  Ritsuko rubbed her arm, seeming surprised. “No, that was Shelton, actually. We tangled last night before I received the writ from Gunwood.”

  Mikani made a sound deep in his throat. That bastard’s gone too far. “I’ll just have a word with him, then we can head on out.” He grabbed his walking stick, fist clenched tight around the metal handle as he started toward the lounge, where that pair could often be found dawdling.

  “He’s not in. Gunwood has Cutler and him on protective duty with Miss Wright.”

  He stopped and turned to her. “He did what? Those two?”

  “And he gave us the arrest.” She shifted, her expression quietly imploring. “I appreciate the concern, but . . . let’s get to work.”

  Mikani hesitated, rubbing his thumb along the carved handle of his walking stick. “Very well. Let’s see to these girls, then. Shelton can wait.”

  This is not over.

  Just before they arrived at the building where the first girl kept a flat, Ritsuko said, “I didn’t realize you’d reconciled with Saskia.”

  Mikani started and turned toward her. What the hells? Then he swerved as they nearly ran over a cycle messenger; the rider spat a few choice words as he sped past.

  “How in Winter’s name—” He paused. “We haven’t. Reconciled, that is.”

  “She isn’t as I pictured from the way you used to describe her.”

  He chuckled wryly. “It was around that time that we started talking about our lives outside HQ, yes. I was angry back then.”

  I was furious. And not ready to deal with what happened.

  “Yes, your confidences did possess a rather . . . rantish quality.” Her eyes laughed, though her lips didn’t so much as twitch. Ritsuko’s voice carried a throaty edge, too, as if from suppressed amusement.

  He snorted. “I tried to get her arrested, you know.”

  “Oh, Mikani. Your women should be offered a manual and a waiver to sign before they get involved with you.”

  He turned at the corner and pulled the brake hard. “Would that have helped you?”

  “I’m your partner, not your woman.”

  “True. You’re paid to put up with me.” He smirked and slid out of the cruiser.

  “Not nearly enough,” Ritsuko muttered as she headed for the building.

  The apartments had a carefully cultivated artistic air. Shutters and doors were distressed, but the locks and fittings were new. The light sconces were antiquated but clean. Even the threadbare carpeting of the aisles was obviously expensive. Mikani pushed the door open and went up to the second floor, where the Reinert girl believed she was hiding from her interfering parents.

  A muffled thump and a choked shriek drove him forward; he shouldered the door once, twice, and the jamb split. He tumbled in to see the girl half-dressed and cowering in the corner nearest th
e doorway. A man lay on the floor in the middle of the room, his features rendered indistinguishable by swelling, and blood smeared the wood beneath his head. There was only one person moving in the room; after a lightning glance between the prone victims, the attacker sprinted toward the window. Not even gunfire slowed him down; Mikani emptied his revolver, and one of the bullets struck the suspect’s calf as he crashed through the glass. Mikani ran after him while Ritsuko checked on the other two, but by the time he got to the sill, the assailant had vanished from sight.

  Impossible.

  “Did you get a good look at him?” Ritsuko asked, kneeling. “Was it Nuall?”

  “Tall, dark-haired, and fast. I didn’t get a look at his face, but I did wing him.”

  There was a spatter of blood on the window ledge, and he could distinguish a trail on the ground below. “He can’t keep running for long. How’s she?”

  Ritsuko shook her head. “She hasn’t said a word. I don’t see any physical injury, so she must be frightened out of her mind. We need to summon a physician.”

  Mikani knelt by the man and shook his head. “I don’t think her companion’s breathing. I’ll get the landlord to send couriers to HQ and to her House.”

  That was too close. A few more minutes, and we’d have missed him and lost her.

  “Track him down,” Ritsuko said. “If you hit him, he can’t get far. I’ll stay with her until her family arrives.”

  He stood, hesitating. She can take care of herself. “All right . . . be careful, partner.”

  “If he comes back, I’ll shoot him in the face.”

  Hell and Winter, at this point, I don’t even know if that would be enough.

  Mikani loped off down the stairs and around the corner, reloading as he moved. Before he left the building, he ordered the landlord to notify HQ. Hopefully it won’t take long. The delay might have cost him the chance to capture the attacker, but there should be officers swarming all over this building soon.

  That accomplished, he ran outside. As soon as he spotted the shattered glass and bloodstains on the cobbled street, he slowed and looked around while he tracked the attacker into an alley. He glanced into the shadows and paused, trying to sense him. There’s that familiar reek. It’s him. He proceeded carefully, senses open and gun at the ready. The detritus cast long shadows and offered too many hiding spots; crates, sacks of litter, and unidentifiable piles of refuse made for slow going.

  A dark figure lay slumped by the wall.

  “Identify yourself.” Gun in hand, Mikani crept toward the body. He didn’t think he’d hit the assailant in a vital artery. But maybe I got lucky. He braced for a trick, but when he shook the person’s shoulder, he tumbled forward.

  Damned be.

  It was a scrounger, his throat torn away. The trail Mikani had been following mingled with the growing pool of fresh blood under the body. He looked around with growing frustration, but could spot no other exits. Just sheer brick walls on three sides. The lowest window was at least four stories up on the right and looked undisturbed. But on closer examination, he noticed narrow runnels scraped into the bricks; they were staggered, almost like . . .

  Claw marks. As if the killer dug his nails into the walls and hauled himself up. Mikani remembered Miss Wright claiming that Nuall’s hands had turned into talons the night she saw him kill four men. Now I have another body with the throat torn open and no plausible explanation for how the suspect got away. Cursing beneath his breath, he headed back to the apartment. Hope Ritsuko got something from the girl, at least. I can’t follow a blood trail up the wall and on the rooftops.

  When he stepped into the flat, he spotted Ritsuko still on the floor, but she had the sobbing girl in her arms. There were constables on the scene, mostly looking bewildered. Mikani understood their confusion; it was improbable that a normal man could jump through a glass pane, down a full story, and land strong enough to run away. He didn’t look forward to writing this report.

  “There’s another body in the alley down the block, heading east. Two of you get over there, secure it for transport. Get this poor chap covered, at least.” He nodded to the young man in the middle of the room as the uniformed constables sprang into action. “Statements from the landlord and neighbors. Move, men, move!” Gunwood’ll be so impressed at how quiet we’ve kept this. He came up to Ritsuko, lowering his voice. “Is she better? Bastard got away.”

  She whispered, “Crying instead of rocking. I’m not sure. I can’t leave her until—” At that moment, a woman burst into the room; she was overdressed for the flat, but she paid attention only to the young woman clinging to his partner’s neck. When the girl saw, she stumbled toward the newcomer with a broken, “Mama!”

  “It looks like I’m dismissed.” Ritsuko pulled to her feet. “There’s another girl you need to secure.” Without explaining why, she snagged two constables and wrote down the information. “Make sure she’s safe, then notify Commander Gunwood.”

  “But, ma’am—”

  “No questions. Just do it.” Then she strode out the door, and it felt more like flight to him than a purposeful exit.

  Mikani could tell she was thinking hard as she ran down the stairs and pushed out of the building onto the street. “I know that look. Tell me.”

  “It seems this maniac has every advantage. You shot him . . . he didn’t stop. He’s faster, stronger, and presumably more powerful. How are we supposed to fight that?”

  He caught up to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they got to the cruiser. “Ritsuko—” Hells and Winters, she’s right. “I don’t know. But I’m sure you’ll figure something out, then I’ll improvise, and we’ll stop him. Because we have to.”

  “Actually,” she said grimly, as if she expected him to argue, “I have an idea.”

  • • •

  RITSUKO DIDN’T SPEAK after Mikani handed over the keys. She drove in silence, mentally mapping the address she recalled from Aurelia Wright’s statement. After this errand, it would be prudent to check on her, ensure that Shelton and Cutler were doing their jobs. It should be safe enough, though. He has no way of locating her. That was the one comfort in this situation.

  Hansoms and carriages clogged the road, and parking was difficult here. Pedestrians crowded the walks, fighting for space with the vendors. Muttering, she slammed the brake on and turned off the cruiser, some three blocks from their destination.

  “It’ll be faster to walk from here,” she said, climbing out.

  Mikani looked up and down the street, rubbing his temples. “Where to?”

  “Just . . . come on. It’s bad enough that I’m doing this. I refuse to discuss it.”

  She set a rapid pace, weaving in and out of the shoppers. This was the lower-class version of the park’s lake promenade with cheap wares and copious bargains all spread out over raw wooden tables. Farther on, the shops had walls and ceilings, too. She passed all the goods and swung into an alley that had Chen the tattooist on one side and Sad Sue’s pharmaceutical emporium on the other. Sandwiched between them was a nondescript doorway—unmarked, just as Aurelia had said. Ritsuko knew she had the right place by the crescent moon etched into the door. Though it was Sunday, the stores didn’t close up, as it was the only free day many citizens had to do their marketing.

  She entered without knocking.

  The room was dimly lit, two gaslights flickering on the back wall. Though some shops had bright windows as a showcase, in this one, they had been blacked out, probably to discourage prying eyes. It looked like a jewelry store with various necklaces and amulets laid out on blue cloth. None of the items were marked with description or price.

  She felt Mikani’s gaze on her, and Ritsuko turned with a quiet sigh. “Do you know what this place is?”

  He nodded, his voice low. “The question is, why are we here? We’ve a suspect on the run, and we nearly had a third victim. I’m not sure how much a luck charm will help.”

  “If there’s anything here that can giv
e us an edge, then we need it. And you have no idea how stupid I feel saying that.”

  The curtain leading to the back room stirred, then parted. A man stepped out; Ritsuko placed him in late middle age. He had a crop of salt-and-pepper hair and a well-groomed mustache; he didn’t look as seedy as his shop did from the outside. Possibly that was the point.

  “May I help you?”

  Ritsuko felt ridiculous. Though she had no extra senses like Mikani, she felt keenly that her partner thought she was wasting time better spent elsewhere. She was aware that time was ticking away; by this point, it was late afternoon, and they had neither the means to catch the monster nor any method of defeating him should they happen to stumble on him.

  Sadly, she didn’t even know what to ask, but that didn’t stop her from trying. “I . . .” she started. Then she tried again. “Do you have anything to help win a fight, when the odds are stacked against us?”

  “That’s . . . a rather unusual request.” The arched brow told her the charm merchant suspected she was mentally unstable.

  Lovely. Even in a place like this, the gentleman thinks that proper young ladies don’t engage in behavior such as I’m describing.

  “We need something quiet and fast. Can’t spend five minutes focusing, and nothing flashy.” Mikani stepped up beside her; he still looked dubious, rubbing at his temple as he examined the displayed items. He held his open hand an inch above them, as if searching for one in particular.

  The proprietor watched him with a furrowed brow. “I deal in subtlety. So if you’re looking for . . . stronger items, I wouldn’t know anything about that.”

  Mikani scoffed. “Of course you would—” He paused, tilting his head. “This one, I think.”