“No,” he answered. “The lot of you can go to hell.”
“Do you have any friends or family?” Mr. Kent asked.
“No, they’re all dead,” Mr. Jarsdel answered.
“Is there anything we can do to persuade you to help us?” Mr. Kent asked.
“No, nothing,” Mr. Jarsdel replied.
“Why are you so committed to working for Captain Goode?” Mr. Kent asked.
“He keeps my power high,” Mr. Jarsdel answered. “Higher than it’s ever been.”
“And what if I said you could achieve the same thing on your own with hard work?” Mr. Kent asked.
“I’d say I don’t care,” Mr. Jarsdel growled, the white glow radiating off his skin and dying again as he started coughing.
“Ah, yes, I see, very effective power there,” Mr. Kent taunted.
“It will be,” Mr. Jarsdel said. “When I am burning you from the inside out.”
Mr. Kent’s eyebrows shot up, and he turned to us. “I think he would be a very negative presence on this team.”
“Mr. Adeoti, did you find anything?” Catherine asked, tapping his shoulder. “Mr. Adeoti?”
That snapped him out of the trance. “Only … confirmation,” he said, taking long blinks, shaking his head, trying to collect himself. “He was taken to Captain Goode’s residence after the police released him, so that is accurate. And he’s … quite angry at us.”
“He’s made us aware of that,” Mr. Kent said. He paused and sniffed the air. “Does anyone else smell that?”
Sebastian was the first to react, pushing Mr. Kent out of the way and diving down behind Mr. Jarsdel’s chair. Thin plumes of smoke had risen in the air. He had been trying to slowly burn through his restraints.
“One of his fingers got loose,” Sebastian said, covering Mr. Jarsdel’s hands with his jacket, smothering any errant flames. “I need more rope.”
I handed him the remainder, which he used liberally to wrap each of Mr. Jarsdel’s fingers together, along with his whole hand. Even between Mr. Jarsdel’s weakened state and the extra precaution, sleeping in the same house as this killer didn’t seem any safer an option than my proposal.
“We can’t start our own prison up here,” I said. “It’s too dangerous.”
“We can’t let him go,” Sebastian said, tightening the ropes.
“We’re not giving him to the police again,” Mr. Kent said.
“Then we should act now while his information is still accurate,” I said.
“What information, Evelyn? All we have is an address,” Catherine said. “Mr. Kent, ask him how close Captain Goode needs to be to shut off your powers.”
“I don’t know,” Mr. Jarsdel answered Mr. Kent.
“Ask him whether he needs to see you or whether he can sense your power.”
“I don’t know,” Mr. Jarsdel answered again.
“Ask him who Captain Goode’s bodyguards are.”
“Miss Fahlstrom is always with him,” Mr. Jarsdel answered.
“And anyone else?” Mr. Kent asked.
“I don’t know” was the refrain. “I only saw them once.”
“And you want to go attack him without knowing any of this?” Catherine asked, barely concealing her exasperation. “We all stayed behind to stop the murders. Not to take unnecessary risks and be the next victims.”
“I’ll help,” Rose said.
The room was silent for a moment before protests came from Catherine and me, our other argument forgotten.
“Rose, you don’t need to—”
“I said we’d find another way.”
“Please, I want to,” she said, quieting us. She glanced at Sebastian. “This is the only way to learn how it works.”
She took a few steps closer to Mr. Jarsdel. I felt myself moving closer in case he tried to do something again.
“Mr. Kent, will you ask if I might change his mind?” Rose asked.
Mr. Kent nodded. “Mr. Jarsdel, Miss Rosamund very much hopes you’ll join us. Would you help us for her sake?”
“I—No…” Mr. Jarsdel said, with the slightest hesitation.
Mr. Kent pressed on it. “How do you feel about Miss Rosamund?”
“She’s the only one of you I can stand,” Mr. Jarsdel said.
“Then why won’t you reconsider?”
“Not going to trade that power even for a pretty girl!” Mr. Jarsdel replied.
“Perhaps it needs a lot more time,” Mr. Kent said, glancing back at Rose.
“There may be a way to speed it up.” Mr. Adeoti cleared his throat. “There isn’t much specific information about the charm power, but there are general patterns to how all the powers operate. I suspect there’s a weak effect with presence, but perhaps speaking or direct contact will be stronger.”
“I see,” Rose said, biting her lip, thinking to herself. “Mr. Jarsdel, do you not feel any guilt for the lives you’ve taken?”
“They were a threat to us,” Mr. Jarsdel answered, even though Mr. Kent wasn’t asking the question.
Rose paced a few steps back and forth in front of our prisoner. “I understand, but I … I can’t help but imagine one of them having a fight with his wife that morning. Maybe they parted furious at the other, but it softened over the course of the day as they both realized the misunderstanding and their mistakes. By the time it was evening, they would have been counting the minutes, eager to see each other, to apologize, to appreciate each other. But then you found the man on his way home and ended his life, while she spent the night awake, waiting. It makes me sad to imagine there might have been things that were never said.”
“I hope that wasn’t the case,” Mr. Jarsdel said, his voice breaking a bit. He still looked angry, but it wasn’t directed at anyone. “I don’t wish to make you sad, Miss Rosamund.”
Rose glanced back at Mr. Kent for his assistance. He took a moment, clearing his throat multiple times. I could feel a lump in my throat on Rose’s behalf myself.
“Mr. Jarsdel, the invitation still stands. Would you like to join us now?” Mr. Kent asked. “To ensure Miss Rosamund’s happiness?”
Mr. Jarsdel looked genuinely torn. “No … I’m sorry, my loyalties are elsewhere.” He turned to Rose. “Perhaps you may be able to join the Society of Aberrations. Then we might protect you.”
Rose closed the distance and stood over Mr. Jarsdel. She held her hand out and circled him, trying to find the most harmless place to make contact. She finally stopped behind him and settled her palm on the top of his red head. It would have made a very strange portrait.
“Will you join us now?”
“I … I don’t know. I’m sorry.”
I gaped at Rose and Mr. Jarsdel. He wasn’t a convert, but the progress was astounding. How much more time until he would do anything for Rose’s sake? Until he wanted to protect her so badly he would give his life for her, like Mr. Hale and Camille did?
“This may take some time,” Rose said. “Would someone fetch me the newspapers from downstairs? I’d like to read them aloud to Mr. Jarsdel.”
We spent the rest of the day like those quiet ones in Bramhurst with Mother in the morning room. The ones where Rose and I would spend hours doing needlepoint, drawing, or whatever else a young lady was required to learn to charm a man. Except here, we were skipping straight to the point.
Catherine and Sebastian stayed in the room to help watch over Rose, while Mr. Adeoti and Miss Chen moved to the parlor to study more objects of Mr. Jarsdel’s. I spent the time attempting to practice Miss Chen’s techniques to raise my power, but it was impossible to concentrate as I imagined Captain Goode escaping us again and again.
Rose’s reading and contact made more progress. Every hour, Mr. Kent returned to ask a series of questions testing our prisoner’s loyalty, and by lunchtime, Mr. Jarsdel agreed to join us in protecting Rose. By teatime, he would kill anyone to protect Rose. By dinnertime, he was quite certain that he would die to protect Rose. And by bedtime, Mr. Jarsdel was adamant that he would do anything for Rose.
Mr. Kent seemed to enjoy testing the limits of what anything meant.
“Would you live out the remainder of your life in the wild among a herd of goats if it would keep Miss Rosamund safe?”