Page 65 of The Unweaver

“We’ve been over this, Lieutenant Potts.” Bane’s voice was cool, but his gaze was blistering. “Numerous times. As much as I enjoy these unannounced visits, I don’t answer questions without my solicitor present. If you’d like to further infringe upon my legal right to operate a private business in the UK, schedule an appointment.”

The copper glanced back at Cora. “And she—”

“She doesn’t answer questions either.”

The copper’s gaze lingered on her for a too-long moment before returning to Bane. “The Metropolitan Police have made repeated efforts to contact you, Mr. Bane. You have made this all but impossible. Your solicitor Mr. O’Leary has evaded every subpoena issued. Your Judge Forley has blocked our every attempt at securing a warrant for this money laundering scheme you call a club. Now there is the pressing matter which brings me to your office today. The murder investigation of Mr. Erik Verek.”

Cora gasped. The copper noticed. Bane shot her a quelling look.

“You are required by law, Mr. Bane, to answer this summons regarding your dealings with the deceased. Mr. Verek, as you are undoubtedly aware, was found brutalized the morning after Christmas. Witnesses recounted a similar story of a disturbance and gunshots. Mrs. Verek and their three children deserve answers.”

Cora’s gut twisted with horrified guilt. She hadn’t considered the Pyromancer might have a family. A humanizing detail. Shehadn’t just killed Verek; she’d widowed his wife and orphaned his children, too. The stubborn tar flecks under her fingernails seemed thicker, darker.

The corpses and their discovery were her fault. She’d insisted on bandaging Bane’s stab wound before attending to the business of hiding bodies.

“Mr. Verek was not the only mangled corpse discovered this week with connections to you, Mr. Bane. Your late employee, Joseph Gallagher, was found murdered near Sutton last night. I was at both scenes and found them most... unusual. Mr. Gallagher and Mr. Verek both appear to have been mauled by different manners of beast. There is also the unsolved murder of Thomas Horace, whose body washed up in the Thames on December 20, not far from your recently acquired property, the former Silvertown docks. Curiously, we received a tip from a cab driver, regarding a December 18 ride with a tall, foul-smelling woman to these same docks.”

Lt. Potts’s pointed look at Cora’s gore-spattered coat lanced through her.

Her mind reeled at the body count piling on top of them. Bane’s Ferromancer, Gallagher, was dead, along with Verek and his thug Horace.

Bane, however, seemed unfazed by the murder accusations.

“There is also a matter of great national security importance, which I hesitate to mention in—" Potts’s gaze swept to Cora. “Mixed company. I will say that certain higher-ups have been inquiring why Mr. Verek’s steel shipment, scheduled onyourboats, was never delivered to Irish soil. We have reason to believe, Mr. Bane, that you illegally confiscated this shipment.”

“Matters which can all be discussed,” Bane said, “during a scheduled appointment.”

The copper bristled, flicking lint from his well-decorated shoulder. “Some in Parliament might be impressed by yourwar record, Mr. Bane, and are willing to overlook certain transgressions. As a proud soldier myself, I don’t consider espionage as serving your country. I wouldn’t be surprised if you were a double agent for the IRA the entire bloody war.”

Bane lifted a brow and remained silent.

Lt. Potts propped his elbow on the desk and leaned forward. “Most police officers in London might be in your pocket, Mr. Bane, but not me. You would do well to remember that. I’ve seen the bodies. I’ve seen things you could not pay me to unsee. Inexplicable things. I know these inexplicable things are tied togangactivity.”

“Duly noted.” Bane inclined his chin towards the door. “Fuck off.”

The copper stared hard for several moments before straightening to his full height, arms stiff at his sides. “I’ll be keeping my eye on you, Mr. Bane. A very close eye. The Metropolitan Police will be in touch.”

Cora plastered herself against the wall as the copper paused to assess her. She half-expected him to arrest her then and there. For killing Verek. For the other crimes she was overdue for punishment.

At last, Lt. Potts’s footsteps retreated. New fears sprang up in his wake. A suspicious copper was dangerous not only for Bane, but for her and every single mage. Hopefully a cutthroat gangster was all Potts suspected Bane of being.

“Persistent pain in my arse,” Bane muttered, lighting a cigarette.

She found her breath again. “The copper? Or me?”

Perusing her with a flicker of impatience, he deigned not to respond.

“What if the copper figures out—”

“I’ll handle it. What happened?”

On shaking legs, she stepped forward and set the death marker on his desk. His gaze passed from the berry to her. “Explain.”

Bad news was best spoken quickly. Breathless, she launched into her treacherous magpie encounter. When she finished, his cigarette had smoldered to ash between his fingers. He stared at her, a muscle working in his jaw and a storm building in his eyes. The reins of his temper hung by a fraying thread.

Cora took a step back. The thread snapped.

“For fuck’s sake!” His palm slammed down on the desk. “Why thefuckdid you go out on your own? There’s a fuckin’ war going on!”

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