“Oh, think you know so much?” Hatun shook a finger at the detective. “Well, I’ll have you know I saw a lot more than boys with badges and a lot of silly rope. I was by there last night, and I looked the devil in the eyes, I surely did. I’m guessing you saw it, too, eh? Can’t ignore what you see with your own eyes, can you? Not you.”

“You saw him?” Jackaby’s eyes widened. “Hatun, you mean to say you actually saw the murderer last night?”

“Murderer?” Now it was Hatun’s turn to look surprised. “Oh dear. I guess must have, at that. I hadn’t realized. Who did he get?”

“Bragg,” I answered. “Arthur Bragg. A newspaperman. Did you know him?”

She shook her head. “No. Poor soul. But I’ll say a few words tonight.”

“I don’t suppose you’ve spoken to Marlowe or any of his officers yet?” asked Jackaby.

“Oh no. Been keeping to myself. Kept my shawl on all tight all night, didn’t want anyone finding me after what I saw.”

“You were hiding in your shawl?” I asked.

Hatun gave the pale blue knit shawl around her shoulders an affectionate tug. “Only street folk can see me in this, beggars and homeless, like. Never had much cause to watch out for them—they’re good souls, the most of ’em. For everyone else—well, it doesn’t make me invisible or nothing, just impossible to notice.” She smiled proudly.

Jackaby and I exchanged glances.

“Erm, I found you,” said my colleague.

Hatun gave him a knowing wink. “You don’t exactly follow the rules when it comes to finding things, though, now do you, Detective?”

Jackaby looked to me again. “Miss Rook? Are you able to . . . ?”

“Yes, of course I can see her.”

Jackaby turned back to Hatun. “I’m afraid it may not be working properly,” he said with a pitying look. “Now, what is it you saw at the Emerald Arch last night, precisely?”

“Oh, stuff it with the snooty faces.” Hatun closed the gap between us and looked me up and down. “Young lady, that’s a lovely dress.”

“Thank you, I—”

“Where do you live?”

“Well . . .” I hadn’t yet found proper lodgings, and having only had gainful employment for a matter of hours, hadn’t yet felt up to asking Jackaby for a week’s advance. “I’m working on that.”

The woman stuck out her tongue at Jackaby. “See? Homeless. It’s working fine.”

Jackaby raised an eyebrow in my direction, but persisted with the matter at hand. “The Emerald Arch, Hatun? What did you see? Be specific.”