He stared at her a long moment before a low chuckle escaped from his mouth. “I see.” Bits of food clung to his beard, and he took up his napkin to wipe them away. “You shouldn’t provoke him like that. One day, you’ll do it to the wrong man, and he’ll kill you for it.” He said it matter-of-factly.

She kept the smile on her face despite the sharp terror that tightened her throat. For a moment, she had thought Ibrahim an ally, but his comment was a reminder that no Virtue could be a true ally, only a man with whom she temporarily shared a common enemy.

“Tell me about Virtue Daniel,” she said.

Ibrahim’s gray eyebrows rose. “So, you have discovered that he was the victim.”

“Tell me what you know of him. I’ve earned that much.”

He pushed his plate away, satiated, and focused his attention on her. “What can I say? He was a member of the Order of Raphael. Young. Well favored. But I had only met him once or twice. He was not Chamuel, and we tend to stay with our own Order.”

“And his wife?”

Something must have shown in her face, because he asked, “You’ve met her, then?”

She nodded.

“A shrew of a woman. Much older than he, and wealthy. I gather theirs was not a love match.”

She had no affection for Mrs. Alameda, but if she had been married to such a faithless man, she might have earned the title of shrew herself. “I believe she loved him, but that is neither here nor there. What of his business dealings, his social life beyond his marriage?”

She still thought that someone else had been in that room, whether a spurned mistress or a wronged business partner.

Ibrahim frowned. “Daniel Alameda is not on trial.”

“Considering the time and place of the murder and its personal nature, I believe the killer and he were acquainted. I want to know whom he associated with in his final days. That’s all.”

He sat for a moment, studying her. Whatever he saw made him nod sharply. “As you wish, Miss Anant.” He reached up to his lapel and unpinned the scales there. He slid the ornament across the table. “He was in business with the head of the Order of Raphael. Whatever Daniel was doing in his last days, he will know. Show him this, use my name, and he will speak to you.”

“And who is he?”

Ibrahim motioned toward her pocket. Confused, she pulled the handbill out and gave it to him. He spread it open on the table and pointed to the name at the bottom.