Kai hesitated in the way he did when he was about to say something Irene wouldn’t like. ‘It’s an apprentice’s duty to share the master’s work. And dangers.’

‘I’m worried about her safety.’

‘You never worried about mine like that. You never tried to send me home.’

Irene kept her voice down with an effort. She absolutely didn’t want Catherine overhearing this conversation. ‘We never had an assassin directly targeting us in the past—’

‘What about Alberich? When he was trying to destroy the Library and was hunting you personally,’ Kai said unhelpfully.

Irene generally tried not to think about that. Having the Library’s most notorious traitor and enemy – now dead, she devoutly hoped – take an interest in her was the sort of thing that not only inspired nightmares, but fanned them to paranoia. Even if Alberich could somehow still be alive, though, this world had been warded against him. If there was a new crime lord in London, whoever it was, it wasn’t him.

‘Thank you for bringing that up,’ she said drily. ‘If we’re looking for people with grudges against us, I agree Alberich has motive. I burned his headquarters, ruined his plans, et cetera. What he doesn’t have is opportunity. But even when he was actively targeting me, we didn’t act like sitting ducks, just waiting for him to make his move. That’s why I want to get Catherine away . . .’ Her voice trailed off thoughtfully as an idea half formed in her mind. Obvious targets. She filed it for later consideration.

‘Well, we aren’t doing that now,’ Kai said. ‘We’re staying under cover till we have more information. Catherine is as safe here as she would be anywhere else.’

‘She’d be even safer with Lord Silver,’ Irene said firmly. ‘And since I’m going to speak to him anyway, I can ask him about it.’

‘I think you’re making a mistake. She should be here.’

‘She’s my apprentice. If I have rights over her, then I have the right to put her somewhere safe.’

Kai frowned. ‘Irene . . .’ He trailed off.

‘I should be moving,’ she said, changing the subject. ‘I’ll be back as soon as I can. If you feel well enough to travel before I return, for pity’s sake leave me a note saying where you’ve gone.’

‘What’s your own itinerary?’ Kai asked.

Irene had to smile at that. Sauce for the gander was sauce for the goose. ‘Visit Lord Silver at his embassy, then Sterrington, then our lodgings for messages, then Vale’s lodgings, then back here. See – I’m completely transparent. It’s just past ten o’clock in the morning, so Sterrington should be at her office.’

‘If it’s ten o’clock in the morning, then Silver will be in bed and hungover.’

‘Yes,’ Irene said cheerfully. ‘I’m rather counting on that.’

CHAPTER SIX

It took repeated knocking at the Liechtenstein Embassy to raise any response, and the elderly woman who finally answered the back door glared at Irene. ‘No hawkers welcome,’ she said. ‘No flowers, no love notes and no policemen. The Ambassador’s out.’

‘He’s what?’ Irene said, stunned. Lord Silver had scheduled a party for last night, and most of the day before it.

The woman sniffed and tugged her shawl tighter round her shoulders, apparently about to slam the door in her face.

‘I beg your pardon,’ Irene said quickly. ‘I was just surprised. Do you know where Lord Silver has gone?’

The elderly woman leaned closer, breathing halitosis in Irene’s direction. ‘Fact is, he didn’t rightly tell me. He left me to tidy up. And what I’m going to do with the food that’s ordered for today I don’t rightly know.’

‘Can you get him a message? It’s urgent . . .’ Irene started, her irritation growing.

Then she looked more carefully at the woman. That nose was just a little too pronounced, the stoop overdone. The bad breath wafted in her face was the product of onions and garlic. The whole effect was staged. ‘You know who I am,’ she said quietly. ‘Let me in.’

There was a flash of clarity in the woman’s rheumy eyes. Then she stepped back to let Irene inside.

Irene lowered her umbrella and unwound her veil once the door was safely shut. She’d changed her hat, coat and veil from her usual subdued colours for something a bit brighter and cheaper. She’d change them again before going on to Sterrington. Standard protocols for when a spy – or a Librarian – suspected they were being followed. ‘All right,’ she said. ‘For the record, I identify myself as Irene Winters. What’s going on?’

The woman straightened up, rubbing her back. ‘You have to tell me how you spotted that,’ she said ruefully, her voice abruptly clearer and less dialect-ridden. ‘I thought this persona would put off Peregrine Vale himself, if he came round asking nosy questions.’

‘It was partly the shawl,’ Irene said apologetically. ‘It was far too clean. And something about the accent . . . but it was an excellent effort.’

The woman nodded appreciatively. ‘So you were asking after Lord Silver. He’s gone to Hawaii.’

‘Hawaii?’ Irene could hear her voice rising. ‘Why?’

Silver’s retainer shrugged. ‘They were drinking rum and coconut milk cocktails last night and someone said, We should be drinking these in Hawaii. Lord Silver agreed. Then he loaded up the household and half the guests in ether-cabs and headed for the zeppelin port.’

Irene groaned. ‘No . . . ulterior motives? An urgent need to get away?’

‘Not unless you count the weather, miss. Lord Silver’s not too fond of rain – unless he’s bathing naked on the roof. In company.’

‘Can you contact him?’

‘I can send a message, miss, but I can’t promise when he’ll read it.’

Irene was silent for a moment. Was Silver really on holiday, or had something or someone scared him off? Maybe she was just being paranoid – but he rarely left London. In any case, she clearly couldn’t leave Catherine here.

At least Lord Silver was probably safe from planned assassinations – if he was in Hawaii.

‘I’ll leave you a note to pass on,’ she said. ‘I’d also appreciate it if you could let me know of any attacks on the embassy. Lord Silver and I may have a mutual problem.’

‘Can do, miss,’ the woman said. ‘Send your message, that is. The rest of it’s at his lordship’s discretion.’

Irene repressed a sigh. ‘That’ll have to do.’

Her next stop was across London Bridge, on the other side of the Thames. She was aiming for a tangle of ‘modern’ architecture – designed for bankers, lawyers and similar types. These offices sat cheek by jowl with classical Regency buildings, converted for the same aforesaid business types. She’d picked up an ether-cab shortly after leaving the Liechtenstein Embassy. No person of quality would be walking around this bustling neighbourhood for more than five minutes, even if the packed streets meant journeys took twice as long.

This also meant twice as long sitting in the back of a cab, wondering if a bullet would shatter the window at any moment. Twice as long worrying about Kai, and Vale, and Catherine, and all the things that could go wrong.