The dining room sat silent; the words of encouragement drained away.
I took solace in a piece of cake, silently thanking Mrs. Tuffins for her breakfast choices on the worst mornings.
“Well, it can’t get any worse,” Miss Chen said, sipping her tea.
I held up the newspaper for her. “Also there are pictures.”
She spit out a little tea back into the cup. “Oh no, I take that back,” she said, dabbing her chin with a napkin. “Those drawings are supposed to be you?”
“Yes, that is me, the healing harlot.” I indicated my own crude depiction. The artist had rendered me as a wily seductress, emphasizing my features so it was mostly curled lips and sneaky eyes. My brothel double was probably refining her costume accordingly.
“It’ll be impossible to recognize you, at least,” Catherine said.
“Why don’t you show me his office?” Miss Chen suggested. “Just tell me where to look.”
I shook my head. “No, he still seems to be a good and honest reporter.”
“I would not call the man ‘good’ exactly,” Catherine said, picking up the paper to read the end aloud. “They are as cunning and cruel as the heroic Captain Goode suggested them to be. What do they want? We do not know. But this reporter is sure they will stop at nothing short of complete chaos. My gentle readers, take care. Be wary. We do not know enough about these extraordinary powers, but I can tell you that, like all power, in the hands of our new Constable of the Tower, it can keep us safe, but in the hands of the wicked Braddock, the effects are only ill.”
“Bit overdramatic,” Miss Chen snapped.
“‘New … Constable’?” I asked. “I hope that’s not what I think it is.”
Catherine and Rose were already turning through other newspapers, trying to find an explanation. Catherine stopped at one article, bit her lip, and read, “They are honoring Captain Goode with the position of Constable of the Tower of London.”
“That’s … absurd,” I said. “He hasn’t done anything.”
The position was reserved as an honor for high-ranking and successful military officers like the Duke of Wellington. Captain Goode was no Duke of Wellington. Did they just hand out constable positions willy-nilly to anyone with a positive adjective in their name?
Rose skimmed through another paper. “I think they are considering his work at the Society. They say he’s been protecting England secretly for years without any recognition.”
“I think there’s a lesson to be learned from this,” Catherine said.
“Never hope for anything good?” Miss Chen asked, biting into a biscuit.
“We can’t keep doing bad things for good reasons,” Catherine continued. “All it does is make us appear worse.”
“What if we wrote a letter to the editor explaining everything?” Rose asked. “Tell him this is a misunderstanding. He would appreciate the truth.”
“I don’t know what we’d write. ‘Our deepest apologies. We got nervous and Mr. Kent’s tongue slipped and he accidentally attempted to blackmail you.’ I wouldn’t even believe it myself.” I paused for a moment, realizing the house was quieter than usual. “Where is Mr. Kent, anyway?”
“He was gone when I woke up,” Mr. Adeoti said, looking up from his notes.
“Trying to avoid us, I assume,” Miss Chen said.
“Knowing him, he’s already gone to blackmail a competing newspaper,” Catherine said.
I glanced out the window to the yard in the back. Sebastian was just outside, apron-clad, helping Mrs. Tuffins ready her garden for the spring. He didn’t exactly look joyful as he knelt and dug into the hard soil, but he didn’t look quite so lost, either. And he didn’t look for me every few seconds for reassurance.
Better to tell him about the newspaper later. When we had a plan. When I didn’t feel quite so lost and helpless myself.
“I think we’re wasting our time with these tangents,” I said. “There must be some way we can deal with Captain Goode directly.”
“We still don’t know how to find him,” Miss Chen said.
“If he’s a public figure now, he’ll make appearances,” I said. “There’s probably a ceremony for that Constable position.”
Miss Chen shook her head. “You are not going to try to shoot him in public again.”
“No, I thought we would follow him and do what you suggested for the reporter,” I said. “Wait until he goes into a building or a carriage and break it from afar.”
Miss Chen seemed to consider that, but my sister looked concerned.
“He’s never going to be alone,” Rose said. “There will always be servants in houses or drivers in carriages.”
“Not to mention the fact that he may have his own bodyguards like Lady Atherton had,” Catherine said. “Given that his power is not particularly useful in a fight.”
“What’s your solution if we don’t go after him?” I asked Catherine. “We sit here and wait for him to make a mistake?”
“We save lives,” Catherine replied. “What was the name of the man you saved at the British museum?”
“Lord Lister,” I said.
Catherine looked back at the newspaper for confirmation. “Neither of yesterday’s victims are a Lord Lister. Which means he listened to you. He hid and he’s still alive because of you.”
“Or his body hasn’t washed up yet,” Miss Chen said with a shrug.
Catherine ignored that and continued, “The more we save, the more our reputation will improve. People will appreciate it.”
“How will we know whom to save?” I asked. “We had to wait for Mr. Jarsdel to kill Sir Thomas before we knew of Lord Lister.”
“Leave that to me,” Catherine said confidently. She peered back down at the newspaper. “We know of four targeted men so far. Cox, Lister, Snow, and Bell. That should be enough to find a pattern—oh, there it is. The next victim will probably be a man named Pasteur.”
Rose snorted and giggled at that, while Miss Chen and I exchanged confused glances.
“A little … germ-theory humor,” Catherine explained to me. She shared a quick smile with Rose. “Anyway, I think we need to take the time to research. That may give us some insight into whether he has more plans.”
“We already tried this with the head of the Society,” I said.
“And it nearly worked,” Catherine argued. “I figured out the pattern. Only, Lady Atherton ruined it.”
“If we went after the attackers instead, we wouldn’t have to guess who would be on the list!” Mr. Adeoti suggested, setting his pen down. “I have a list of the Society members, and we could find them individually before they are given more terrible orders.”
“And we ask them to refuse their orders?” Miss Chen asked. “At the risk of their loved ones?”
“Oh, well, we’d have to rescue and protect all their family members and friends,” Mr. Adeoti said optimistically. “So with thirty Society members … that’s only a few hundred people.”
Miss Chen gaped at him and his notebook for a moment, then shut her eyes and turned away before accidentally breaking it apart. “Sometimes I can’t tell if you’re joking.”
“Not at all!” Mr. Adeoti said, showing us his notes. “I’m sure we’d get it done quickly with our determination!”
“And where exactly are we going to keep them?” Catherine asked, looking around the cramped dining room. “And how are we going to keep the angrier ones from trying to kill us?”
“Out of all the powers we have, Miss Rosamund’s power would be the safest way to convince the reluctant,” Mr. Adeoti said.
Rose’s face blanched at the suggestion.
Miss Chen’s, however, brightened at the idea for once. “We’d have to find another place for them to stay. But they would be more cooperative—”
“No,” Catherine said firmly. “No, we’re not doing that. Rose doesn’t want to be using her powers like that.”
The defense did not seem to help, though. Rose only went whiter at Catherine’s words. Her chair squeaked loudly against the wood. “I must take a walk” was all she said before she hurried out of the room.
“Rose!” Catherine called, trying to follow, but I stayed her.