LITMIR.BIZ

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brought in all but a few unimportant dabblers and the one man at the top—the most evil of them all—Cyril Henley.

      Drew nodded his confirmation. “We wanted to wait until the women had retired for the evening.”

      Jamie thought of Miss Eugenia, ready to flee with her embroidery in hand. But he would not expose her. If she could not sleep, at least they had that much in common.

      “Wycliffe wants to send you both abroad,” Drew told him.

      “Abroad? Me and Charlie?” Jamie turned to his superior. Why would Wycliffe send them away in the middle of an investigation?

      “There has been no sign of the Brotherhood,” Wycliffe told them. “No whispers. No sightings. And no more women have gone missing. With his cohorts captured, the secretary suspects Henley has left the country. Or perhaps someone else has disposed of him for us.”

      In Jamie’s experience, which was prodigious, the Home Office wouldn’t be that lucky. Men like Cyril Henley were like cockroaches. They survived all attempts to eradicate them, then came back to infest the world with their own sort of filth.

      Wycliffe interpreted Jamie’s silence for skepticism and nodded. “I doubt it, too, Hunter. But the secretary is convinced he has left England. Gone to France, Germany, Italy or perhaps even the Americas. He is bound to find followers and victims enough wherever he goes, as long as he does not make the mistake of trifling with the ton again. But this mad dog is our responsibility.” Wycliffe paused to take another drink from his glass. “And that is why I recommended you to the Foreign Office.”

      Jamie opened his mouth to speak, but Wycliffe held up one hand to halt him. “You want these curs caught as badly as I do, Jamie. You, Charlie and Andrew know more than anyone else about this case. Andrew is married and does not work for the Home Office. You and Charlie are all we have left of the men who have been on this case from the beginning. If Henley is gone and the Brotherhood crushed, who better to send after him?”

      Charlie stopped his pacing. “Transfer to the Foreign Office? Now there’s an intriguing notion. Another day, I might be tempted by the proposition. But not at the moment. There are too many loose ends here. And I’ve fallen behind on my paperwork.”

      Jamie almost laughed. When had Charlie ever cared about paperwork?

      “What do you say, Jamie?” Wycliffe asked.

      “I think it is highly unlikely that Henley has gone anywhere.” No, he would be thinking himself impervious to the Home Office. It was far more likely he was biding his time, waiting for the Home Office to put the case aside in favor of more urgent matters. He met Wycliffe’s dark gaze. “I think I’ll pass.”

      Wycliffe sighed. “I believe the secretary is expecting your acceptance. He has made arrangements.”

      “Tell him to arrange someone else.”

      “I thought you wanted to advance.”

      “Not at the expense of this case. Henley has not gone anywhere.” Jamie noted Drew’s distress and the look on Wycliffe’s face and realized there was more to this than they were telling. “Why are you so anxious to get us out of the country? “

      Drew sighed and sat back in his chair. “There is a price on your head.”

      “Henley?”

      Wycliffe finished his brandy and stood. “Him, or any of the other cases you’ve brought to justice recently. I thought you’d be better off out of reach for a while. Take time to think about it, Jamie. Make yourself scarce. I will stall the secretary while you reconsider.”

      Jamie was no coward, but the thought that someone wanted him dead badly enough to pay for it was sobering. Henley would be looking for any way to stop Jamie from coming after him. “Give me another week, Wycliffe. I’ll make my decision then.”

      His superior nodded. “Take care in the meantime.”

      Charlie gave a low whistle as they watched Wycliffe take his leave. “I wonder just how many people want you dead, Jamie,” he ventured.

      Jamie chuckled. “I can envision a queue from parliament to St. Paul’s. But I have no intention of leaving the country. The bastard is here. In London. I feel it in my bones. Henley would never abandon his hunting grounds. I’d wager everything I own that someone is hiding him. His family, perhaps, or friends. Each time we get a lead, or think we’re closing in, he disappears in a puff of smoke.”

      Drew looked doubtful. “How do you propose to find him?”

      “Draw him out. There’s a bounty on my head? Good. I shall make myself visible. And when he comes after me …”

      “Setting yourself up as a target is a rotten idea, Jamie. He won’t come for you himself. He’ll hire cutthroats. And I don’t want you dead.”

      Charlie began to pace, his head down. “Can we talk you out of this?”

      Jamie pointed to his ears. “Deaf.”

      “Talk to Lockwood about this, Jamie. He still has connections at the Home and Foreign Offices, and he may have insights or be privy to information—”

      Jamie took a deep breath. He did not want to involve their eldest brother, Lord Lockwood, in this quagmire. He had a wife and new child to think about, not to mention the duties attached to his title. “Not unless we are desperate. But this has to end now. Two months ago we thought it was over but they rose again. Last week we got the rest, but not Henley. I swear, the man is as slippery as an eel. As sure as I’m sitting here, Henley will find other hearts as dark as his own and rebuild his cult. He has a taste for killing now.” And pray God he did not come after Eugenia to finish the job.

      Drew combed his fingers through his hair and sighed. “There is a bounty on your head. Go, Jamie. Transfer to the Foreign Office. Make it a holiday. Let someone else handle this.”

      Jamie looked down into his glass again. Good sense and reason told him Drew was right. However. “I’ve been on this case from the beginning, Drew. I intend to see it through to the end.”

      “‘Pears to me it’s more personal than that.”

      Jamie tossed the remainder of his wine down and stood. Damn Drew’s perception! “I want that blasted scum dangling from a rope for what he’s done, and justice for—” he stopped himself from saying Eugenia and substituted “—for all their victims. And I bloody well want an end to all the secrets and lies.”

      “It always comes down to that with you, does it not—needing to know every last detail, every last truth? Why, Jamie? What drives you to that?”

      “Truth never fails. There is no argument against it. It is the only rampart that remains when all else is crumbling. Truth tames chaos. It is just, honest and right. You can stand by it unashamed, depend upon it. If I did not stand for truth, what else would matter?”

      “I pity when you finally learn that some questions are better left unanswered, and that the truth does not always serve you best.” Andrew pushed his glass away and shook his head. “The world is not as black and white as you think, brother, and the truth is a double-edged sword. If you chase after it, be damned sure you are prepared to get cut.”

      “Living with lies could never be better,” he said with unshakable certainty. “C’mon, Charlie. It appears I am going to need you to watch my back.”

       Chapter Two

      Gina had expected shock, perhaps even outraged protests, but not stunned silence. Apart from the heavy rain outside the windows and the decisive tick of the tall case clock on the wall opposite the fireplace, the library was silent. Not even the clink of a teacup being replaced in its saucer broke the spell.

      She glanced around the circle at the faces of her friends. Her sister, Isabella, looked as if she were sitting atop a coiled spring, ready to catapult off the settee and restrain her. Lady Annica,

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