Sarie knelt next to the bodies and patted them down. Whoever had done them had left their purses behind. And the boots.

“Their flashpieces is gone, though,” Flinn pointed out. He was right—their amulets were missing, and jinxflingers never even went to the privy without their flashpieces.

Sarie and Flinn searched the area, but didn’t find them.

Flinn squatted next to the corpses, scanning their clothing in the growing light. “Look at this,” he said, sweeping his hand down the torso of the wizard with the boots.

There, faintly daubed in blood, was a vertical line with another line zigzagging across it.

Flinn sat back on his heels. “What does that look like to you?” When Sarie said nothing, he thrust the talisman Cat’s copperhead had made into her face.

Sarie looked again. Now she saw it—the stylized serpent and staff. The gang sign of the Demon King, Cuffs Alister’s new street name.

“That don’t make sense,” she said, after a long pause. “He’s left the Life.”

“But he’s got himself a crew and a crib and he said himself he’s got a game going,” Flinn muttered. “Said he didn’t want to let us in because it was too risky.”

Sarie waved at the two on the bricks. “You think these ones had a hand in what happened to his mam and sister?”

“Does it matter?” Flinn said.

“You think he’s out hushing wizards at random?” Sarie said.

“Him or Cat Tyburn, maybe—she’s rum with a blade.”

She shook her head. “He’s a charmcaster himself. Anyway, Cuffs is too smart for that.”

Flinn licked his lips. “Remember what he said down in Filcher Alley. He wouldn’t say what his game was. But, you know, he did call it a lack-witted scheme. A fool’s quest. Maybe that’s why he didn’t want to let us in.”

“He’d of taken their purses,” Sarie said. “Make it look like footpad work.”

“Unless he was making a point,” Flinn said. “Why else would he sign his work?”

Sarie tried, but her weary mind couldn’t come up with another argument.

“Maybe Cuffs an’t in his right mind,” Sarie said, frowning. “Remember how he was after Mam and Mari burned. I never seen anyone that draws trouble like he does.”

“The bluejackets will be stumbling through here before long,” Flinn said, judging the angle of the light.

Sarie thought on it. “Here’s what we’ll do.” She wadded up the end of the wizard stole in her hand and pressed it into the neck wound, saturating it with blood. Then she mopped it over the symbol on the corpse’s coat until she’d blotted it all. “Good thing these is fresh,” she muttered. She handed one of the purses to Flinn and stuffed the other into her carry bag. “Let’s take these too. Make it look like a slash and grab.”