From The Ashes (The Ministry of Curiosities #6)(66)

"No."

"Make inquiries of independent witnesses?"

"No."

Lincoln sat back and I could swear I heard him draw a sharp breath.

Shock rippled through me, too. Lord Marchbank had killed a man based on very thin evidence. Accident or not, he'd committed a violent act. I wasn't sure how to take the news. Marchbank may not be the upstanding gentleman I thought him to be.

"There was no doubt in my mind, Fitzroy," Marchbank said. "Not after reading the diary. You would do the same."

"I would have got answers out of him first."

"That part I don't dispute. I wish I'd spoken to him about his hypnotism, and how it worked, why he was like that. His name was Christopher Eckhart, if you'd like to research his family."

"You should have given it to me earlier. It should have been recorded in the files, his family connections investigated and noted."

Marchbank acknowledged this with a nod of his head, but offered no reason for leaving it until now to inform Lincoln. "The thing is, Fitzroy, you assumed that I had a motive for killing those supernaturals, and Charlie, but I'm not the only one who worries about what people like her can do. Ever since Frankenstein showed us the possibilities of magic, and summoning Estelle Pearson proved how badly things can go wrong, the entire ministry has been on tenterhooks. We all distrust those who hold such great power over us. Charlie may be an honorable person, but not everyone is like her, and she's not incorruptible."

"I'm quite sure I am, thank you," I snapped.

"Everyone should be wary of supernaturals, even other supernaturals. Even you. Both of you."

"I am fully aware of what people who possess magic can do," I said. "As is Lincoln. No one is more aware. But that doesn't mean we can murder all of them. Just because a person holds a knife, it doesn't mean they're going to stab someone."

Marchbank held up his hands. "I agree. That wasn't the point I was trying to make."

"Someone, however, disagrees."

"They do," he added quietly with a frown at Lincoln. I half expected Marchbank to tell us his own suspicions, perhaps even mention his thoughts about the other committee members, but he did not.

"I will be bringing the supernaturals back to London," Lincoln assured him. "After the killer is caught."

"A task that has now fallen to me. Unless…"

Lincoln handed him a single page document from his pocket. "My report."

Marchbank hesitated then unfolded it. After a quick read, he flipped it over, but the back was blank. "Is this it?"

Lincoln nodded. I'd read the report and agreed with him that much had to be left out. Marchbank was a suspect and we couldn't let on how much we knew, even if he promised not to tell the others.

"What have you been doing all this time?" Marchbank asked.

"I've been preoccupied with other matters."

Marchbank's gaze slid to me. "I see."

Seth peered around the door. "The last box is being loaded now, sir."

Marchbank rose and we walked him to the front door where Doyle stood waiting with the earl's coat over his arm.

So what will you do with yourself now?" Marchbank asked, a hint of mockery in his gruff voice. Clearly he still didn't believe Lincoln would step aside completely from the investigation.

"I may take a holiday at the seaside," Lincoln said.

"But it's December!"

"The country is beautiful at any time of the year."

"I didn't peg you as an aesthete," Marchbank said as Doyle helped him into his coat.

"I wasn't, until recently. I believe I became a lover of the countryside on my recent visit to Harcourt's estate in Oxfordshire."

Those few days out of London had been lovely and I held fond memories of them. Lincoln had once told me that he'd not truly noticed how beautiful the countryside was until then.

"Grand place," Marchbank agreed. "You ought to come and visit Lady Marchbank and me at March Hall. You too, Charlie. Not in winter, though. Bitterly cold place is Yorkshire at this time of year."

Didn't I know it.

"That's why Elsa and I prefer to stay here until Easter." He tipped his hat and Seth saw him to his carriage.

"Well?" Seth said when he re-entered. "What did you learn?"

"He killed the hypnotist who killed his father," I said.

He whistled. "And I thought him the sane one."

Lincoln walked off without a word, and took the stairs two at a time.

"Something got into his bonnet," Seth said, watching him go.

We headed to the kitchen and waited for Bella to leave before I repeated what we'd learned about Marchbank to the others. Lincoln still hadn't come downstairs and my curiosity eventually got the better of me.

I knocked on his door and he bade me to enter. He sat in an armchair in his sitting room, a paper in hand and others on his lap and on the table nearby. He looked up and seemed surprised to see me. He quickly stood and set down the paper.

After a moment, he said, "Is everything all right?"

"I was wondering what you were doing. You left in rather a hurry without explanation. Is everything all right with you?"