Barnabus set a penny etched with his initials on the table where they always set them upon arriving at headquarters, whether for a meeting or simply to pass the day. There were no other pennies on the table. The house, then, was empty.

He stood at the foot of the stairs, pondering. Where ought he to wait? The library was a comfortable and familiar place, but his mood did not match the calm feel of that space. The boxing saloon would certainly allow him to work out some tension, but it was not conducive to conversation. He could slip into the pub—having an actual pub inside a clubhouse was an odd thing, but the Dread Penny Society never did anything in the usual way—but he would be tempted to sample what was on tap there, and he didn’t dare. Gemma’s life, after all, depended on them getting this right.

His stomach rumbled, answering the question of his destination. The kitchens. That meant taking the back stairs all the way down to the below-ground level. He didn’t overly mind; he was still waiting for Fletcher to arrive.

It was strange being alone at headquarters. He wasn’t one who spent long hours here. He hadn’t the leisure time. Even then, when he knew Mrs. Simms would make certain any patients who happened by the surgery were looked after by her or sent to another doctor for care, he felt a pull away from headquarters. And not always to work on his next “Bodies of Light” installment.

He felt that same pull tonight, urging him to return to the Donnellys and sit with Gemma. He wanted to talk with her. Try to comfort her. But she was in too much danger for him, alone, to address it. He needed a word with Fletcher.

The larder was never entirely empty at DPS headquarters, though the offerings were modest. He started a fire in the fireplace, heating coals enough for roasting a potato and warming a bit of smoked pork.

He’d only just placed his humble meal on a plate when he heard footsteps approaching. He turned his attention to the doorway just as Fletcher and Stone stepped inside.

Fletcher’s mirthful smile was firmly in place. Barnabus didn’t doubt he understood this was an urgent manner; the swagger was simply his way.

“We debated where we might find you,” Fletcher said. “Stone, here, owes me a guinea.”

Stone didn’t look angry but also didn’t join in the jest.

“Henry found you quickly,” Barnabus said. “Seems I chose the right messenger.”

“Steady in a storm, that Henry.” Fletcher shook his head in appreciation. “If I thought he’d take up writing, I’d stand him for DPS membership in a heartbeat.”

“Put a bug in Hollis’s ear,” Stone said. “Educating little ones is that fella’s lifework.”

Stone wasn’t wrong about that.