Irene frowned. ‘How can you tell that?’
‘No scratches from picklocks, the lock wasn’t forced and the door wasn’t kicked in.’ Lucci’s eyes slid to the building door, which still hung open. ‘Speaking of which, boss, we might want to consider taking the air before the cops get here. The neighbours might get nosy and call it in.’
‘I will inspect the place first . . . For signs of my property.’ Qing Song tagged on the second sentence a little hastily, as if realizing he’d need an explanation for his interest. ‘If we find news of your colleague, we will inform you. What is his name? And where will you be staying?’
Irene cast her mind back to the hotels Captain Venner had mentioned, and picked the one without a visitor with a wolf pack. ‘I’ll be taking rooms at the Plaza Hotel until this is sorted out,’ she said. ‘And my colleague’s name is Evariste. If I run across your property while I’m looking for him – what is it, by the way?’
‘A jade statue of a wolf,’ Qing Song said. ‘You couldn’t possibly mistake it.’
‘I see.’ Irene almost wished she was wearing glasses, so that she could adjust them disdainfully. She decided her persona needed one more little push, just to confirm herself in Qing Song’s eyes as a powerful, arrogant, but conveniently ignorant idiot. ‘I trust that your investigation won’t get in the way of mine. Which I shall start to commence now. Good day.’ A powerful, arrogant idiot with bad grammar, she amended her own thought.
Qing Song’s eyes narrowed in anger at being so casually dismissed, but he didn’t speak. However, his wolves growled as they backed away from the door, leaving Irene clear passage, and the note of rising fury in their voices told her that she had managed to prick his temper. The air was close and heavy with leashed power; even Lucci had removed his hat to swipe a handkerchief across his forehead and was standing well clear of his boss.
Irene strolled to the door, keeping her pace even, and left the building. She’d need at least one trip by subway, just to make absolutely sure that no wolves could track her scent.
And she had a lot of questions for Evariste.
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘Congratulations,’ Irene said when Kai opened the door. ‘I believe you have managed single-handedly to find the most dubious hotel in New York.’
Kai waved her into the room and closed the door behind her, then sat down with a thump in the battered armchair. He rested his elbows on his knees and put his head in his hands. ‘This has been very stressful,’ he said in muffled tones.
Irene looked from him to Evariste. Evariste was lying on the room’s only bed, thoroughly gagged with the remains of a torn-up pillowcase, with his wrists tied to the far corners. He glared back at her. ‘For all of us, I think,’ she said drily.
‘I had to assume that he might be as resourceful as you are.’ Kai paused. ‘Which is meant as a compliment. But then I had nothing to do except sit here and wait.’
Irene imagined it. Sitting here in this windowless room in a seedy New York hotel, with nothing to do except look at the wall and listen to Evariste’s breathing. And no way for him to know what she was doing, or how much danger she was in. She laid a hand on Kai’s shoulder. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘I wish I’d been able to think of a better option.’
‘Did you manage to deal with Qing Song?’ Kai asked, sounding slightly mollified.
‘The answer would be yes, obviously, since I’m still alive and talking to you.’
Kai snorted. ‘Seriously.’
Irene noticed that Evariste had gone very still and tense on the bed at Qing Song’s name, and that he was giving her his full attention. ‘Seriously,’ she said to both men. ‘I accused him of interfering with my investigation, before he could suspect me of interfering with his investigation. Then I acted like an arrogant, over-privileged idiot until he was only too pleased to see me go. I’ve broken my trail enough times between there and here that his wolves won’t be able to follow me. But he left me with a number of very interesting questions.’
She walked across to the bed where Evariste lay. Like everything else in this dump, from the lampshade to the carpet to the washstand in the corner, it was old and battered. But it was solid enough, and the bindings round his wrists held him firmly in place.
He looked up at her, struggling for self-control. His throat jerked as he swallowed. His skin was a washed-out greyish-brown against the off-white of the pillowcase, as though he’d been indoors for weeks on end without the chance to see the sun and he’d been living in fear for all that time.
Irene felt a twinge of guilt, but suppressed it. Evariste wasn’t an innocent; he was a sworn Librarian, like her, and as such he had responsibilities. Right now the best thing she could do for both him and the Library was to establish the truth. ‘Evariste, we need answers,’ she said. ‘If I take the gag off, will you help us?’
He jerked a nod.
‘All right. Hold still . . .’ Irene fumbled with the knot. ‘Kai, please can you get a glass of water? I imagine Evariste’s mouth will be dry, after he’s been gagged.’
‘That sounds like personal experience,’ Kai said, splashing water into a glass.
‘My exploits aren’t always brilliantly successful.’ Irene managed to tease the knot open and dropped the strip of fabric on the pillow, then helped Evariste work the remaining wad of fabric out of his mouth. She sat down on the bed next to him and wished that she’d had some actual training in interrogation. As opposed to practical experience of being on the other end. ‘All right, Evariste. I realize that we haven’t met under the best of circumstances. Would it help if I said I’m sorry about that?’
‘No,’ Evariste croaked.
Perhaps that had been a bit too much to expect. She took the glass of water from Kai and held it to Evariste’s lips, letting him sip from it. ‘I’ll introduce myself. I’m from the Library. My name is Irene.’
Evariste choked on the water, and Irene hastily pulled the glass away. ‘Are you all right?’
He stared up at her. ‘You’re her? The Irene? The one who stopped Alberich?’
‘Most of our teachers would be getting migraines at such an imprecise sentence,’ Irene said, wondering about her reputation. ‘My name is Irene, and yes, I recently left Alberich abandoned in a burning library, which I can only hope did stop him. Permanently.’ She left out the part that she’d started the fire. She was, after all, trying to get Evariste to trust her.
He hesitated for a moment. Then he said, ‘Prove it. Let me see your Library brand.’
Irene suppressed a sigh. It would have been nice if the one person in this world to whom she’d actually told the truth had believed her. ‘Very well. Just a moment.’