He held up another finger. “And two, more work means more money for the Kindcaids. They are desperate for trained hands to help with the effort. Gemma knows the trade; her father gave her no choice in the matter. She’d be an asset to them. They know Gemma’s in London, and they are searching for her, no doubt to strong-arm her back into their ranks. If she refuses, I have no doubt they will kill her.”

Fletcher and Stone exchanged a glance.

Barnabus rubbed at his face. “I can’t keep her safe on my own. She’s found a job, but it takes her too near South London, and that’s where all her family lives. She won’t go back on account of the risk, but not having a job will eat at her. Even the daughter of a resurrection man has her pride.”

“I can find her a position,” Stone said. “There’s work where I’m toiling most days, up near Marylebone. I can keep an eye on things. Quietly, of course.”

“That’s a far spell to go from Finsbury.” Gemma would either have to spend hours walking each day or hop a hansom cab, which would take money. “But I’ll let her know of your offer and see what she thinks.”

“I’ll gab with the Dread Master about all this,” Fletcher said. “Might be there’s more we ain’t heard.”

“Do you think he knows the connection between the Mastiff and the Kincaids already?” Barnabus tried not to be too obvious in his question, but there was every chance the Dread Master already knew. Stone was listening to everything they said. And Mr. Sorokin had known Gemma even before Barnabus had.

Fletcher nodded. “There’s very little escapes the Dread Master’s notice.”

“Do the Kincaids know of your connection to Gemma?” Stone asked.

Barnabus shrugged. “Her father did. It’s possible he didn’t say anything to anyone before he died, feeling embarrassed that he’d been thwarted. But he might just as easily have denounced me to every last one of them.”

Fletcher and Stone exchanged another silent look, but they had clearly communicated something.

“What was that about?” Barnabus asked.

Stone answered for them both. “Only that your Gemma ain’t the only one we need to safeguard.”

Gemma walked up New Bond Street with Móirín on one side and Stone on the other. Baz had asked Stone to find her a job, and he’d managed the thing in less than a day. But that job was in Marylebone, too far for walking every morning. She’d stayed with the Donnellys that night, not going back to Baz’s house in Finsbury.

Part of her worried that he preferred it that way.

“Might as well ask her your question, Stone,” Móirín said. “Little point putting it off.”