The sound of the approaching siren was so close now, the ambulance could only be a street or so away. I pulled Janice’s cell from my pocket, then dug out my phone to grab the inspector’s number and called her.

“Chief Inspector Henrietta Richmond speaking.” Her tone was cool and somewhat reserved—no doubt because I was calling her from an unknown number. And undoubtedly it was already being traced. “How may I assist you?”

“Inspector, it’s Emberly. Amanda Wilson just made an attempt on Janice Green’s life after apparently pumping her for information over the last couple of weeks.”

There was a slight pause. “Interesting. I take it Janice is still alive?”

“Yes, but she’s been drugged with who knows what. I’ve called an ambulance.”

“Yes, I can hear it. What happened to Amanda?”

“Jackson’s following her. We’re hoping she might lead us to Rinaldo’s location.”

“We weren’t aware Amanda was working for him.”

“Nor were we.” Though we had suspected it. “Janice apparently saw them together. She has a pic of them beside an SUV, and the number plate is crystal clear.”

I read it out to her.

“I’ll get it traced immediately,” the inspector said. “Stay with the secretary. I’ll get someone over to check out her house. If they attempted to erase her, she must know something. Keep me informed on her condition.”

“Will do, Inspector.” I hesitated. “Were you aware that some government officials took the inverters and all the information relating to them from Rosen Pharmaceuticals a few weeks ago?”

“Yes, I am.”

“So they were actual government officers, and not fakes?” I persisted.

“Yes.” Amusement touched her tone. “You are not one for giving up until you get what you want, are you?”

“It depends on what it is I want,” I replied. “Did you discover what that chemical formula was?”

“It’s vinegar, apparently. We’re searching the buildings under the Skipping Girl Vinegar sign, as that’s the most obvious place to start.”

Luke was unlikely to have done anything obvious, but I guess the search had to start somewhere. “What about the original premises on Burnley Street?”

“Those buildings were demolished, but we’ve nevertheless sent the military to the area, as well as several other, smaller factories that are actively producing vinegar.”

“I doubt they’ll find anything at such a place,” I said.

“I agree, but they must still be checked.”

The wail of the siren stopped, and the silence was almost eerie. I walked down to the front door. Two men climbed out of the ambulance and were walking toward me, the first of them holding a medical kit.

“The patient is inside.” I stepped to one side to let them both in.

But as I did, I realized the second man was wearing jeans and sneakers rather than the usual black or blue pants and black boots. Government funding might be tight right now, but I doubted the use of casual clothing as part of their everyday uniform had been approved.