The Invisible Library (The Invisible Library #1)(67)
‘Possible, certainly, sir,’ Singh said cautiously, ‘but none plausible. I had my men check the cellars very thoroughly. There are no connections to the local sewers, or to the Underground. Of course, if he trusted it to one of his servants, then we have a whole new set of possibilities. If that’s the case, then we might do better watching the black market for such things to see if it shows up. Or we could see how the Iron Brotherhood go about finding it – if they’re after the damn thing too.’
Irene and Bradamant glanced at each other, and Irene could guess what the other woman was thinking. If they did have to resort to scouring the black market, or liaising with secret society members, then it might be better for Bradamant to break away from the group. She could then use any contacts that she’d made as ‘Belphegor’, rather than be known to be working with Singh and Vale. Of course, Bradamant could then find the book, and be the one who took it back to the Library. So which was more important for Irene? Finding the book herself, or making sure that it was found? She knew what the answer should be, but that didn’t mean that she liked it.
Vale and Singh were also looking thoughtfully at each other. Then Vale leapt to his feet. ‘Well, then! I believe this calls for a visit to the Natural History Museum. Ladies, Mr Strongrock, I trust I can prevail upon you to accompany us. Inspector, do you have a cab downstairs? You can give us a lift there before going on to get your search warrant.’
Singh looked at Bradamant, Irene and Kai with less than total enthusiasm, but controlled his expression. ‘I have one, sir, but I believe that we may require a second one if we are not to subject the ladies to unduly close quarters.’
‘I’d rather not delay,’ Irene broke in. A growing sense of urgency was pricking at her. Maybe the bank deposit box was the more likely possibility, but what if they were wrong? ‘Inspector, do you think you were followed here?’
Singh frowned. ‘I can’t deny that it is possible, madam. Not that anyone would find it strange. A great many people from the Yard come to visit Mr Vale here, and very frequently at that.’
Vale stepped across to the window, and stood to one side of it, peering down at the street below. ‘I can’t say whether they followed you, Inspector, or whether they’re watching me,’ he reported, ‘but Hairy Jimmy of the Whitechapel Roaring Boys is watching my front door.’
‘That’ll be Lord Silver, I believe,’ Singh said, slipping his papers back into his case. ‘The Iron Brotherhood wouldn’t have anything to do with werewolves.’
Vale considered for a moment. ‘Well, with London traffic the way it is at this hour of the morning, even if they are going to the museum, we should still make it there before they do.’ He snatched a coat from the overloaded hatstand, flung it on, and caught up his hat and sword cane. ‘Let us be off.’
Kai had also sprung to his feet in wild enthusiasm, and was busy finding his own hat and coat, which allowed Irene to tug Bradamant into the passage for a word in private.
‘What is it?’ Bradamant asked quietly.
‘What are the identifying marks for the book?’ She saw Bradamant begin to say something, and held up a hand to stop her. ‘Look. You said that you’ve already been fooled once with a fake. If it was your superior who sent you back – if you’re actually here with permission . . .’ She saw Bradamant’s eyes narrow in anger at that. ‘Then he wouldn’t have sent you back again without giving you some sort of way to identify the genuine article. Are you really going to risk losing the book because you’re not prepared to share that with me? A book which may be that important to this world?’
Bradamant’s glare was pure poison. ‘Don’t rush me,’ she said. ‘I’m thinking.’
‘Think fast,’ Irene said. ‘Vale will be coming to find us in a moment.’
‘Tale eighty-seven,’ Bradamant said. ‘The Story of the Stone from the Tower of Babel. If it’s there, then it’s genuine.’
‘Thank you,’ Irene said. She picked up her hat and veil, and skewered them in place with a hatpin.
Bradamant seemed about to say something but, with a visible struggle, managed to contain herself. She adjusted her own hat, then swept out, calling sweetly, ‘We’re coming!’
A few seconds later they were jumbled together into a hansom cab and heading to the Natural History Museum. From what Irene could remember of London’s geography, it was at least half an hour away – more, if the traffic was bad. Singh had muttered the instructions to the driver rather than shouting them loud enough to be heard across the street, and was now brooding in the corner of the cab. Kai, Vale and Singh were all sandwiched onto one seat, while Irene and Bradamant shared the seat opposite and tried not to look too comfortable.
‘Do you know who we need to speak to when we get there, Inspector?’ Vale asked Singh.
Singh nodded. ‘I have the name from last time – Professor Betony, and even if you can’t find her, then you can find her office in the Department of Cryptidology downstairs. With any luck, you can be in and out of there before anyone who might be following you catches up. We can then establish if the book’s here or not. And I’ll be getting that search warrant in the meantime.’ He gave Bradamant one of his flat looks. ‘And then this young lady can return the other books that she made off with.’