The flickering candlelight shone on her hair, flashed on the jewels around her long neck, glowed through the wine as it sloshed from the neck of the bottle. Does she try and charm me merely because I hold the writ of the Closed Council? Nothing more than good business, to be on good terms with the powerful? Or does she hope to fool me, and distract me, and lure me away from the unpleasant truth? Her eyes met his briefly, and she gave a tiny, knowing smile and looked back to his glass. Am I to be her little urchin boy, dirty face pressed up against the bakers window, mouth watering for the sweetmeats I know I can never afford? I think not.

'Where did Davoust go to?'

Magister Eider paused for a moment, then carefully set down the bottle. She slid into the nearest chair, put her elbows on the table, her chin on her hands, and held Glokta's eye. 'I suspect that he was killed by a traitor in the city. Probably an agent of the Gurkish. At the risk of telling you what you already know, Davoust suspected there was a conspiracy afoot within the city's ruling council. He confided as much to me shortly before his disappearance.'

Did he indeed? 'A conspiracy within the ruling council?' Glokta shook his head in mock horror. 'Is such a thing possible?'

'Let us be honest with each other, Superior. I want what you want. We in the Guild of Spicers have invested far too much time and money in this city to see it fall to the Gurkish, and you seem to offer a better chance of holding on to it than those idiots Vurms and Vissbruck. If there is a traitor within our walls I want him found.'

'Him… or her.'

Magister Eider raised one delicate eyebrow. 'It cannot have escaped your notice that I am the only woman on the council.'

'It has not.' Glokta slurped noisily from his spoon. 'But forgive me if I don't discount you quite yet. It will require more than good soup and pleasant conversation to convince me of anyone's innocence.' Although it's a damn sight more than anyone else has offered me.

Magister Eider smiled as she raised her glass. 'Then how can I convince you?'

'Honestly? I need money.'

'Ah, money. It always comes back to that. Getting money out of my Guild is like trying to dig up water in the desert—tiring, dirty, and almost always a waste of time.' Somewhat like asking questions of Inquisitor Harker. 'How much were you thinking of?'

'We could begin with, say, a hundred thousand marks.'