Her Majesty's Necromancer (The Ministry of Curiosities #2)(36)

"Lincoln," Lady Harcourt said, accepting a cup of tea from Gus, "how did—"

She stopped when Lord Gillingham put up his hand. "Wait for the maid to leave," he said.

"All of my staff are aware of what happened," Lincoln told him. "They're ministry employees and as such need to know ministry business."

"Did you hear that?" Gillingham directed his spluttered appeal to General Eastbrooke and Lord Marchbank. "He's lost all reason! Involving a maid in our affairs is dangerous, as well as ludicrous. Particularly this maid."

"Calm down, Gilly," Eastbrooke said with a shake of his head. "She already knows what we're about, and Lincoln won't tell her anything he thinks ought to be kept from her. You know that."

"Bloody mistake," Gillingham muttered.

"If anyone can be trusted, it's Lincoln," said Lady Harcourt. "May we move on? I have a question. How did you get the grave robbers to tell you about the captain?"

Lincoln tore his steely glare away from Gillingham and fixed it on her. "I used my charms."

She stared directly back, unsmiling. Gillingham snorted.

"You beat the stuffing out of them, didn't you?" Eastbrooke said around a bite of cake. "Be sure to keep your name out of it. We don't want any more trouble with the police."

Lincoln shook his head when I offered him cake. His gaze met mine and for a brief moment, it seemed to warm. But the moment was fleeting and the pits became dark, cold wells again.

"You should have learned more from them," Gillingham said. "You've got no name of the man paying them, no place of residence, and only a general description. If it were me, I'd have scared something more useful out of them."

If it were him, he'd probably have soiled his trousers.

"Not good enough, Fitzroy," he muttered into his teacup. "Your charm didn't work on this occasion."

"That isn't fair," I snapped, rounding on him.

Lord Gillingham gulped too much of the hot tea and coughed until his eyes watered. I took the moment to continue, ignoring Lincoln's warning of "Charlie, don't." It wasn't fair that he be blamed, and it was about time they became aware of how useful I could be.

"It wasn't Lincoln who scared them off but the body of a dead man."

"What do you mean?" both Eastbrooke and Marchbank asked.

"I raised one of the bodies in the butcher's and used him to scare answers out of Pete and Jimmy. It worked effectively. The men were tight-lipped until that point and weren't going to give us anything. While we think they gave us enough to continue the investigation, if you do not, then it's my fault, not Mr. Fitzroy's."

"You did what?" Gillingham exploded. "Are you mad, girl? Fitzroy, you allowed her to do this?"

"I ordered her to do it," Lincoln said. "Not that it is your affair, what I do and how I manage ministry business."

"It bloody well is!" Gillingham had the sort of coloring that reddened easily, but his face had turned positively crimson.

"That's enough!" Eastbrooke shouted. "You're out of line, Gilly. Lincoln's methods may not be conventional, but they are effective. It's precisely because of his unconventional methods that he's good at what he does. You know that as well as anyone in this room. Now pipe down and listen to what he has to say."

"Unconventional and ungentlemanly."

Lady Harcourt dropped her teacup into the saucer with a clatter to draw everyone's attention. "He is more of a gentleman than you, Gillingham, in every sense of the word."

Gillingham sneered at her, but she simply picked up her teacup again and took a sip. I tried to catch her eye and smile my approval, but she didn't look my way.

"If the necromancer is living here, she might as well be useful," Lord Marchbank said quietly, with a nod in my direction. "As long as she's discreet."

"How discreet is it to have a dead man walking the streets?" Gillingham muttered in a last gasp effort to speak his mind. He remained silent on the topic after that, thankfully. Another protest and Lincoln may have decided to break the man's jaw after all.

"I've investigated further," Lincoln went on, picking up the story. "The four men whose bodies were taken were probably all opium addicts. The captain visited them at either one or more opium dens while they were still alive, and he targeted them specifically after death. It's unclear why. The grave robbers think the captain may be an army man, but his description says otherwise. He wore spectacles and doesn't have a strong build. That, coupled with his interest in cadavers, makes me think he might be a medical officer in the armed forces rather than a regular officer."

I hadn't thought of that but it was a good guess, based on what we knew.

Everyone looked to the general. "You don't expect me to know him, do you?" He shook his head. "There are countless captains in the medical corps. Besides, I retired some years ago."

"There isn't enough information to go on," Marchbank agreed. "We need a name."

"There may be countless medical officers," Lincoln added, "but how many have been dismissed for dubious behavior?"

"It's possible he did something of a similar nature during his tenure, I suppose." The general stroked his mutton chop whiskers and stared into the middle distance. "No one comes to mind, but I'll look into it."