It was blunt, it was gauche, it was discourteous, and it was still a thousand times better than the way the conversation had opened. Malveaux seized the diversion eagerly. “Yes and no. I spent some time in Vyerland doing historical research decades ago, so when the opportunity came up to assist with the child soldier rehabilitation program I had the language and the cultural experience to be useful as a volunteer.”

“If you know Vyer culture, perhaps you can guess whether there was any rhyme or reason to Grey’s choice of victims?” Fae asked. “Because from all reports, no one’s been able to find any proper motive.”

Professor Malveaux bowed his head, and the worried look returned. “He . . . I have no proof, of course, but I fear Grey imagined himself as a vigilante of sorts.”

“What?” said Miranda, interested at last. She didn’t even glance at Khabir as he gently, even submissively, placed a drink at her elbow.

“I understand that each of his victims had committed some sort of crime—legal, social, or religious. He was not exactly devout, but he had a very strong need for boundaries, both for himself and for others. People who transgressed boundaries upset him.”

“But the Mermaid—what did she do wrong?”

“Dancing,” said Malveaux gravely. He refused Khabir’s silent offer of a drink with an equally silent shake of his head.

“What’s wrong with dancing?” Fae began.

“Dancing at private parties,” he clarified quickly, with a certain emphasis on the word private.

“You knew her?” Khabir sounded vexed.

“I knew of her, or someone like her. I never saw her. I didn’t want to say anything in case I was wrong and inadvertently maligned some poor young innocent who could no longer speak in her own defense. It is best to keep one’s reputation unsullied in this city.”

“She’s dead now,” Khabir pointed out. “I’m sure she’s beyond worrying about her reputation.”

Malveaux acknowledged the truth with a little nod but replied, “Let sleeping rumors lie. After all, her murderer has been captured and will soon face the ultimate justice. What more needs to be said?”

“What do Grey’s moral codes say about punishing transgressors?” Miranda asked. “Perhaps he thinks he’ll be rewarded for his actions after death.”

Malveaux paused, thinking hard and clearly not liking his thoughts. He clapped his hands together and rubbed them briskly as if feeling a sudden chill. “Dr. Ecouvo, I believe I’ll take my leave now. It would be very unkind of me to tire you, and all I have done is talk about your work . . . hardly a cheering topic for a casual visit.”

“Not at all, Professor. This is my bread and butter in more ways than one. But I think you understand that, what it’s like when your work is your passion.”