“I don’t think he’s a criminal; the law disagrees with me, but the law is an ass,” said Miriam. “Anyway, he’s got access to cellars. Lots of cellars and backyards running into the rookery. I think we can go down there, then try to cross over. If we can’t, we can’t. If we succeed we’ll be somewhere in the basement levels. How’d that work out?”

“Angbard gave me some of his keys.” Roland patted his pocket. “We can give it a try. The only thing worrying me is the time it’s taking.”

Liar, thought Miriam, watching him in side-profile. You and me, when this is over, we’re going to need to clear the air between us. She focused on the line of his jaw and for some reason her heart tried to skip a beat. See if we can catch some quality time together with nobody trying to kill me or blackmail you. For a moment she felt a deep stab of longing. We’ve got a lot to talk about. Haven’t we? But not right now, in the middle of a compartment full of Clan couriers, serious-faced and wound up for action.

The train slowed, slid into a suburban station, and paused. Then it was off again, for its final destination—the royal station, five minutes down the line. “Go tell the others, we want the next stop,” said Miriam. “Remember, follow my lead and try not to say anything. It’s not far, but we look like a mob, and a weird one at that. If we hang around we’ll pick up unwanted attention.”

Olga raised an eyebrow. “If you say so.”

“I do.” The train hissed and shuddered as it lurched toward the platform. “Hats on and spirits up. This shouldn’t take long.”

The walk to the pawnbroker’s shop seemed to take forever, a frightening eternity of hanging on Roland’s arm—steering discreetly and trying to look carefree, while keeping an eye open for the others—but Miriam made it, somehow. “This is it?” he asked dubiously.

“Yeah. Remember he’s a friend.” Miriam opened the shop door, shoved him gently between the shoulder blades, turned to catch Morgan and Brill’s eyes, then went inside.

“Hello? Can I help—”

“I’m sure you can.” Miriam smiled sweetly at the man behind the counter—a stranger she’d never seen before in her life. “Is Inspector Smith here?”

“No.” He straightened up. “But I can get him if you want.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Miriam drew her pistol. “Lie down. Hands behind your back.” She stepped forward. “Come on, tie him!” she snapped at Roland.