“He walks on the air,” Ben said. “I saw him do it.”
“Saw him, and lost him. You’ll know as well as we do how hard it is to keep hold of the swine. We’ve a windwalker of our own on the justiciary, which should give us a chance of catching him if we find him, but we can’t just keep her hanging around on rooftops, when for all anyone knows Pastern’s in Glasgow or Dover or Constantinople.” Janossi shrugged. “We’re under pressure here, Constable. Not enough experienced justiciars, one of our most senior people off active duty and another retiring next month. We don’t have the manpower to go hunting Pastern, and that’s all there is to it. If you want to assist the Met, or look for him at your own risk, be my guest. If you find him, let me know, and we’ll come and get him for you. But I’ll tell you now, if we do that, we’ll give him to the Met, not back to Herts. Dead policemen outweigh an escape from custody.”
“Good. He can go to the Met, and the gallows. He deserves it.” Ben’s voice didn’t sound quite like his own, but there was no doubt in his heart. There was nothing in his heart but dull, scouring disgust. Nothing at all.
“It’s a bit more complicated than that, I’m afraid,” Janossi said. “I didn’t work on the case myself, but as I recall— Oh, just a minute, there’s Mrs. Gold. She’ll know. Mrs. Gold! Do you have a moment?”
Ben twisted round at Janossi’s cry. He was sure he’d shut the door behind him, and it was indeed closed. There was no aperture or window in the door to see through, but as he looked, it opened, and a dark-haired woman in an advanced state of pregnancy plodded in, heavy-footed. Ben leapt up with automatic courtesy. The woman didn’t seem to notice him.
“You called, Joss?”
“Can I have a minute? It’s about Jonah Pastern.”
Mrs. Gold made a face of loathing and took the chair, seating herself with heavy care. Ben hovered awkwardly.
“This is Constable, um, from Hertfordshire,” Janossi said. “He worked with Miss Nodder’s justiciary up there, on Pastern.”
Mrs. Gold cocked her head to look up. “Oh, yes. You were the people who lost him in that farcical manner. Thank you so much. We had the obnoxious little gadfly making bad worse all through December because of that. I hope you’re here to redeem your force’s blunder.”
Ben hadn’t had a woman speak to him like that since he’d left dame school. He had no idea what to say to that chilly voice, but apparently his spine knew exactly how to react, because he found he was standing very straight, head up and staring ahead.
She didn’t seem to expect a reply, turning back to Janossi. “What about Pastern?”
“Well, I haven’t really looked into the case. I did know the constable was coming, but the files are somewhere in Mr. Day’s office, probably, and—”
“Say no more,” Mrs. Gold told him. “When we bid farewell to Steph, I’m going to throw a lighted match in there and seal the door. I might not even wait for him to leave. What do you need to know?”
“Where to start looking for him,” Ben said.
“How dangerous he is,” Janossi added. “And what his role was in that business. It wasn’t him who killed the policemen, was it?”
Mrs. Gold glanced between the two men, considering. “In reverse order. Pastern was a minor part of a major conspiracy. He committed a series of thefts and deliberately implicated an innocent woman, and he was accessory to murder. How dangerous he is…I don’t know. He seems to be quite without morals, and I shouldn’t wish to see an innocent standing between him and something he wanted. Are you all right, Constable?”
Her dark eyes were locked on Ben’s, her nose flaring slightly in concentration. He swallowed. “Yes, ma’am. Go on.”
“Where to look. Well, if I knew that, I’d go and get him myself. Not myself, Joss,” she added impatiently, as Janossi’s mouth opened. “I would tell you to do it, because I’m only allowed to waddle the corridors like an overstuffed goose, poking my beak into things.”
“Three more months,” Janossi murmured, voice soothing.
Ben blinked at that—the woman looked huge to his inexpert eye. He didn’t think he’d done anything but blink, but she glanced up at him, and said, “Twins. Anyway. We have no idea if Pastern’s still in London, but if he is, where I would look, if I was allowed to do anything and if we weren’t overstretched to the point of madness, and if I felt he wouldn’t simply flee on sight, is places like Holywell Street, Piccadilly, Cleveland Street. The men’s meeting places.”
Ben was no expert on London, but he knew what that litany of names meant, and he could feel the colour heating his face. Janossi had also gone red. Mrs. Gold looked between them, unembarrassed. “Well, that’s one thing we know about Pastern for certain, he’s that way. Enthusiastically, I’m told. Isn’t that how he got away from your lot, Constable? Seduced the arresting officer?”