CHAPTER 17

Throughout Irene’s life—and during the last year or two in particular—she had been growing more and more habituated to a key principle. Don’t waste time arguing against the impossible; accept it and find a solution.

For a moment she wondered if Prutkov could have been as ignorant of the facts as she was. But she rejected the thought: he was Melusine’s apprentice, and he was one of the people organising this peace conference. He would know as much as possible about this Paris—and about its libraries.

Which meant he’d lied to her.

No. He’d not just lied to her—that might be understandable in the line of duty. He’d lied to her when having that lie discovered would leave the Library even more endangered than it had been before. Irene could—barely—tolerate being used. But she would not accept being used badly.

A thread of fear ran down her spine at the thought of what might be going on here. Prutkov being secretive was the good explanation. The alternatives were much worse. “All right,” she said. “I take your point. Clearly I need to discuss this with my supervisor. Will you all let me look into this?” Before you tell your superiors that the Library’s untrustworthy, she meant, and they all knew it. “It’s possible that I’m just a victim of lack of communications, from someone who didn’t think that I … needed to know.”

“I think we can agree to that,” Vale said.

“Speak for yourself,” Mu Dan said, a snort implicit in her voice. “This is either incompetence on the Library’s part or deliberate malice. You can’t expect me to keep silent about it.”

Irene wished for the counterpane back. Her feet were aching with the cold. She saw Kai open his mouth to speak, and she cut in before Mu Dan could reject it as personal partiality. “But can I ask you to keep silent until I’ve investigated? Do you believe that I’m sincere, at least?”

“Anyone can seem sincere,” Mu Dan countered. She pointed a finger at Silver. “He seems sincere.”

“Do you accept, on the evidence so far, that I’m acting in good faith—and that I honestly didn’t know about this Enfer business?”

Mu Dan considered, then shrugged. “Yes, I do. But, Irene, consider my position. I can’t conceal secrets from His Majesty Ao Ji.”

Irene noticed the interesting hierarchy indicated there. Not my lord or my superior, but just His Majesty. This was an avenue she could work with. “You’re an independent judge-investigator,” she countered, turning Mu Dan’s earlier words back against her. “I’m sure there have been times when you’ve held back from immediate prosecution in order to confirm the full facts of a case. Let’s be honest.” She looked round at the room. “If anyone tries to take this to my superiors here and now, those same superiors are going to put the blame on me. They’ll say I was ignorant, or I misunderstood, or something. They might take me off the case—and then you’d have to work with someone who might not be as … sincere.”

It would have been nice if they’d disagreed. But they didn’t.

“We do unfortunately live in a world of politics,” Mu Dan finally said. “Very well, I agree, on the understanding that you’ll share your results as soon as you have them. And what about His Highness here?” She indicated Kai. “What will you say to your uncle?”

The edge to Mu Dan’s voice suggested a personal dimension, possibly even a grudge towards her fellow dragon, and Irene noted that down for later investigation.

But Kai merely shrugged. “As various people have pointed out, I’m not a member of this investigative group, and thus I am under no obligation to report its findings. Regarding my obligations to my uncle … I’m making a personal judgement that allowing Irene to investigate will be the most productive course of action. Is that acceptable?”

Mu Dan nodded curtly and the tension in the room went down a notch. She turned to Vale. “So what did you find out about last night?”

Irene retrieved her counterpane while Vale recounted last night’s investigation, with occasional input from Silver. It boiled down to the fact that, yes, there had been explosions, yes, there had been anarchist slogans daubed on the walls, and, yes, there were currently no clues. Or should that be, no, there were currently no clues? It was difficult to be sure of the proper grammar when everyone was gloomily agreeing on the absence of evidence. At least the immediate animosity had been defused.

“There’s something I’ve been thinking about,” she said. “I don’t know how long they had to do it, but I’m assuming that representatives of all three sides gathered as much information about this Paris as possible—before the conference started. Nobody was going to jump into these waters unprepared.”

Silver frowned. “True, but unfortunately the Cardinal isn’t sharing anything that significant or useful.”

“Yes,” Irene agreed. “I can accept that. But who was doing the investigation on the dragon side?”

“Ren Shun,” Mu Dan said. “It would have been one of his duties, naturally.”

“But he wouldn’t do it himself, would he?”

Mu Dan tilted her head thoughtfully. She’d taken one of the chairs and was sitting in it as primly as an etiquette illustration. “No. He would have his agents do that. You think that I should press for access to his servants and private records?”

Vale nodded. “Winters is right. Perhaps while he was researching this location and the peace conference participants, Ren Shun stumbled across something which caused his murder.”

“His Majesty won’t like it,” Mu Dan said. “He wanted to keep this investigation entirely separate from Ren Shun’s private life. But I can see your point. I’ll make the request for access.”

“You hadn’t made it already?” Irene asked, as innocently as possible.

“As a matter of course, yes, but it had been turned down. I’ll stress the point.”

Irene glanced across the room at Kai and saw that he was looking thoughtful. She knew what was on his mind. Mu Dan was being less than honest or forthcoming here—but Vale, who lacked Irene’s experience with dragons, might not have realised it. “Correct me if I’m wrong,” she said, “but I understand that most dragons of Ren Shun’s rank would have at least one private servant to see to things that were beneath their master’s dignity. Even if Ren Shun was a spymaster, he wouldn’t necessarily go out on the town every night to collect reports. That would be what his trusted staff did. Dragon society is very hierarchical. I’ve come to appreciate that fact recently. And Ren Shun’s servants would be particularly loyal to him—and particularly interested in avenging his murder, one hopes. So where are they?”

Mu Dan was silent, tapping her fingers on the gilded arm of her chair. When she spoke, she was clearly picking her words with care. “Irene, you’ve asked me to let you handle your own affairs inside the Library. In return, I formally request that you let me pursue this trail myself. I know that something’s wrong. What’s that phrase from the play? Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.”

“You think there’s obstruction at a high level?” Vale said, leaning hawk-like towards her.

“I think there’s obstruction at some level,” Mu Dan returned, “but I need more information. As you’ve pointed out, we usually have servants. I have servants. But right now, I’m isolated here without my staff, and with nobody but you to depend on. This is not a state of affairs which I enjoy.”

“Ah, sweet honesty,” Silver drawled. “The pin that pops the boil and brings all the inflammation to the surface. Should I confess my suspicions now as well, just to complete the triangle?”

Kai and Vale exchanged glances. “Well,” Kai said, “since we’re on the subject, you could tell us if it’s relevant that the Cabaret de L’Enfer was stinking of chaos and has a witch in its back rooms.”

“Don’t think you can shock me, princeling. The detective already told me about that.” Silver shrugged elaborately. “And he said that you didn’t think it was significant enough to warrant further investigation. So stop pointing fingers. Given that I arrived in Paris at the same time as everyone else—and I can prove it—I don’t think I should be your prime suspect. But I can certainly try to shake a little more information out of my own kindred, if only to save us from unjust accusations.”

“Right,” Irene said as firmly as possible, trying to regain control of the situation. “Other immediate trails to follow from last night are the rats and cats, the cake, the apples, the explosives, and the chlorine gas—I’m assuming it wouldn’t be that easy to get hold of explosives and chlorine gas, even in Paris?”

Silver raised a languid hand. “I’ll take the cake—that is, I’ll investigate the bakers. And of course I’m still looking into the question of theatres, after that anarchist attack on the dragon king. But alas, I have nothing to show, except for a growing set of entertaining nude studies for my private collection. I’m wondering whether or not we really have a connection here. Are the anarchists linked to the Blood Countess? Or do we have two separate enemy factions? And any number of theatres could theoretically be harbouring the Blood Countess in their basements, attics, or somewhere backstage, but …” He shook his head. “No evidence.”

“If there is a link and she was hiding out in one of the theatres, wouldn’t it be saturated in chaos?” Mu Dan asked. “Wouldn’t you be able to recognise such a thing, the moment you set foot inside it?”

“Yes, except for two points. The first is that she would be hiding. I believe she’s muffling her influence in order to go unseen by both sides, otherwise either we or someone else would have found her already. And the second point is that I’m finding Paris rather a mess, to use the vernacular. Have you ever seen one of those weather maps with wavy pressure zone lines all over it?” He waited for Mu Dan’s nod. “It resembles something like that. There have been so many powerful ones of my kind—and your kind—wandering around the city that it’s frankly impossible for any of us to sense her unless we happen to walk directly into her lair. Surely you’ve noted the same thing yourself, while you’ve been making the rounds.”

“Can you scry for her with the Language, Irene?” Kai asked.

“I doubt it,” Irene said reluctantly. “The only times I’ve managed to do such a thing in the past, I’ve had a direct connection to the person in question. I’ve used their blood or had their Library name.”

“Could you use the cats from the cellar?” Mu Dan asked. “Put some sort of metaphysical leash on them?”

“I don’t know,” Irene admitted. “I’ll investigate. It’s not something I’ve tried before. And it couldn’t be any harder chasing a cat through Paris than it has been tracing some of the people at this conference!”

“Surely you’re exaggerating,” Kai said.

“I’m not,” Irene said. “Really, I’m not. You haven’t seen the witness statements, have you? Well, trust me, the concept of ‘work ethic’ seems rather lacking round here. ‘Junket’ would be more appropriate. The principals on both sides are the only ones who are doing any real negotiating or have any say in the eventual result. Everyone else is just here as servants or staff or bodyguards, or simply to bulk out the retinue to the same size as the other group. A dozen of the lower-ranking people from both hotels were sneaking out on the night of the murder to hit the theatres and cabarets, even if they tried to claim otherwise. The testimony from the servants and the hotel staff proves it. At least two of the dragons have been spending their spare time art shopping for their private collections. Green and Purple—or Thompson and Thomson, or whatever they call themselves, from the Fae delegation—apparently want to sign up with the Paris police or the Foreign Legion or anywhere that will send them on interesting jobs. Heaven help anyone who does sign them up. Even the Cardinal admits to hanging out at rare bookshops. A dozen of the witness statements confess to being in someone else’s rooms. Three of them contradict each other. And pretty much every single servant from both sides is refusing to contradict anything their master or mistress says! If we want to find out who killed Ren Shun, we’re going to need something more definite than ‘if my lord says he was in his room, then of course he was in his room.’”

“An excellent summary, Winters,” Vale agreed unhelpfully. “So what are your thoughts?”

Irene looked round the room. Two dragons, one Fae, and two humans. In a way, it was a positive omen for any future peace treaty that they could all be in the same room together, planning a cooperative effort. “I’ll look into what my superiors know,” she said, “whether or not they think I ‘need to know.’ And I’ll see if the link from the Richelieu Library to the Library is still there or if it’s been broken. I’ll examine the crime scene there from a Librarian’s perspective too. And I’ll look into chasing cats. Lord Silver, please add the Cabaret de L’Enfer to your list of places to visit. I’d be interested in your opinion.” She waited for his gracious nod before continuing. “Mu Dan, you’ve told us that you’ll investigate Ren Shun’s servants and his research. How are you with chlorine gas and explosives? Or poisoned apples?”

“Underinformed,” Mu Dan admitted. “I’m used to having the skilled members of my staff perform those analyses. Perhaps that is something Vale should take to Inspector Maillon?”

Vale nodded. “That I can do, and I’ve been given the equipment for some scientific analysis. I should have some data and a list of addresses of chlorine suppliers by lunch: the inspector is not overly gifted, but his records are sound. We may be able to track down the agents of the Countess by practical methods, if not by metaphysical ones.” The idea clearly pleased him.

“Excellent,” Irene said. “And what about a connection between the previous assassination of Minister Zhao and Ren Shun’s murder? We’d thought”—well, she’d thought, at least—“that Mei Feng might have useful knowledge, since both she and Minister Zhao served the Queen of the Southern Lands?”

“I was going to mention that,” Mu Dan said. “Vale, Mei Feng requests an interview with you at your convenience. She will be glad to discuss the matter with you.”

Vale’s brows rose. “Interesting. And suggestive.”

“Of what?” Mu Dan asked, with a trace of irritation. Clearly she’d rather have been the one doing the questioning.

“Anything out of the ordinary is suggestive,” Vale said blandly. “Rest assured that I will keep you informed.”

“Kai,” Irene said hastily, “can we call on your assistance, or does your uncle require you today?”

“My uncle has requested that I attend him as a secretary, and naturally I am glad to oblige,” Kai said, in tones that couldn’t have been faulted by the highest arbiters of etiquette. But regret showed in his eyes: clearly he would much rather have been out and around Paris, contributing to the investigation.

A memory surfaced at the back of Irene’s mind. “Actually, there is something that you could do for me—and I don’t think it would conflict with your obligations. Could you set up a meeting for me with Li Ming, seeing as he’s your uncle Ao Shun’s courtier?”

Mu Dan was motionless under her cape, but Irene had the impression that her shoulders had stiffened. If she’d been a cobra she would have flickered nictitating membranes, and possibly even spread her hood in warning.

“Easy enough,” Kai said. “But why Li Ming in particular?”

Interesting: clearly Kai didn’t know of any quarrel between Ren Shun and Li Ming, such as Mu Dan had hinted at. And clearly Mu Dan saw no need to share. “I’ve heard of a possible issue between Li Ming and Ren Shun,” Irene said diplomatically. Let everyone assume it was Librarian gossip if necessary. “I don’t believe Li Ming is the sort of person to go round committing murder—”

“I assure you he could, my little mouse,” Silver said. “Without a second thought.”

Irene wondered what caused that reaction. “If you will allow me to finish my sentence,” she said, “I don’t believe he’s the sort of person to go round committing murder, then dumping the body where everyone would find it.”

Silver tapped a finger against his lips. “Fair point.”

Kai didn’t actually disagree. Which also said something about Li Ming’s reputation among dragons. “I can tell him you want to speak with him,” he said. “But we have several conference sessions scheduled, and then it’s the opera in the evening. The principals on both sides are attending.”

“Which opera?” Vale asked.

“Tannhäuser.”

“Hm. The Paris version, or the Vienna version?”

“The Paris version, I heard,” Silver said, “which should mean we get the full ballet in act one—”

“Much as I usually like opera,” Irene said through gritted teeth, “at the moment, I’d only take an interest if a masked maniac was about to drop a chandelier on the heads of the audience. Which I hope is not going to happen.”

“At least it’s not Siegfried,” Kai said. “The whole dragon-killing thing could imply such an insult …” He caught the look in Irene’s eye and smiled as he pulled back from his digression. “I should probably be getting back to the Ritz. Irene—Mu Dan, gentlemen—I know that I’m not directly involved in this investigation, but you have my word that I will cooperate in any way possible.”

The room felt that much colder with him gone, and Irene wished again that everyone else had turned up a few hours later. For just a little while last night she’d been able to forget the pressures of the investigation and everything that was at stake. Now it was crowding back in on her. And she faced the additional issue that someone higher up in the Library could be guilty of anything from concealing information to active malfeasance.

“We’d better get started,” she said. “I apologise for throwing you out of my bedroom, but I need to put some clothes on …”

“Of course,” Mu Dan said, rising. “I’ll be in touch as soon as I have something to report.”

“As will I.” Vale held the door for the dragon. “Be careful, Winters. Of all of us here, you are the one who’s given the Countess personal reason to dislike you. Watch your step.”

Irene had been trying not to think about that. “Trust me, I will,” she said. “I have no intention of complicating matters even further.”

Silver was the last to the door, and he paused there for a moment, until Irene was forced to ask, “Is there anything further?”

“Why, yes.” Silver’s teeth gleamed as he smiled. “Yes, there is, my little mouse.”

“And that would be?” Irene supposed it would be too much to expect him to apologise for earlier.

“I’m just musing on the fact that every member of this team is hiding a scandal. Except me, of course. Quite a change from usual.”

Irene frowned. “We’ve already been through that, haven’t we?”

“I think we omitted something.” His smile was less pleasant now, and more the curled lip of a man who feels himself in control. “Your friend the detective, for instance.”

Irene snorted. “That’s ridiculous. Vale’s about the only person here who isn’t hiding something.”

“Is he? Tell me, Miss Winters …” Silver let the moment draw out. “What do you think the dragons would say if they found out the detective had Fae blood somewhere in his family tree?”

“That is a ridiculous attempt to stir up trouble—” Irene started, knowing that she had to say something, that silence would be an admission of the truth.

“Neither ridiculous nor an attempt,” Silver contradicted her. “I’m sure if anyone thought to look, they could find proof.”

Irene weighed her options. Silver had hinted at Vale’s family bloodline before. She’d ignored it—she honestly didn’t care about it. But under the current circumstances, with people eager to take offence, this might indeed raise claims of bias about any evidence Vale found.

And then two facts clicked together in her mind, answering a previous question. “Now I know why they brought you in as the Fae representative,” she said slowly. “It’s not because you’re an investigator. It’s because they think they can use you to control Vale.”

Silver tipped his hat to her. “I couldn’t possibly comment. Just remember that I didn’t tell you that. And I’ve grown rather fond of you, Miss Winters, so as the detective said—watch your step. I wouldn’t want to lose you.”