bear to face the world beyond these walls. Guilt gnawed at him, every single day.
He finally peered at me with that unnervingly bright gaze of his.
“I know why you’re here,” he told me. “It’s about Lucas Tollburn, right?”
I looked him straight in the carmine-centered eye.
“Of course. Was it Hanlon who killed him?”
In addition to the red ones, Willets had a powerful inner eye that had a habit of fastening on anything remarkable that happened in the Landing. And he gave a cautious nod.
“I saw him approach Tollburn’s house, but not what happened after that. Circumstantial evidence, then. But this is not a court of law, so I’d suppose that it’ll do.”
I felt bemused. His gaze normally penetrated almost anywhere. Why hadn’t he seen more? But he seemed to understand what was concerning me.
“Ever since I first developed my powers, I’ve been aware of certain things regarding Tollburn. Firstly, he was a far more complexly talented adept than anyone ever suspected. His maternal grandmother was Erin Luce, one of the great dowager-witches of Victorian times, and he learned his magic at her knee. So I suppose that should have been predicted.”
He was right. I waited for him to go on.
“Secondly, for most of his life, he had not one but two Spells of Shielding set in place around him. One around his home, and the other around his actual person.”
“Stopping him from being watched?” I asked.
“Exactly.”
“Which is why you didn’t see the murder.”
Willets looked pensive and troubled.
“Tollburn was a mystery to me. Despite the fact I could not see him, I could sense him sometimes. And often, come nightfall, in places where he ought not be.”
Which was a completely new one to me. There had been no hint of that before. I felt my eyebrows rise.
“Other people’s homes, for instance,” he continued. “While they were asleep.”
But we were talking about a man in his eighties. What exactly was the doctor suggesting?
The pigeon on the rafter rustled its wings and then stopped again. Powder from them floated downward through the gloom, making it sparkle slightly.
“This was recently?” I asked.
He nodded. “Almost up until his death. I could feel him skulking around. But, no…”
He could see what was bothering me.
“Not physically, you understand.”
I didn’t. But I didn’t press him either. Willets took his time about explaining things, and it was usually worth the wait.
“More like his undiluted spirit. He went all over town that way, and stopped in certain places, just watching and listening.”
“But you said the people he visited were asleep.”
His head came up a few inches. “Watching and listening to their dreams, perhaps?”
And altering them to his benefit? A chill ran through me, at that thought. I had heard of some pretty weird power games being played by the Sycamore Hill set. Influence and status were like food and drink up there. But this capped almost everything. What exactly had the man been doing?
“You want to hear my theory?” the doctor asked, breaking across my train of thought. “I think Lucas Tollburn had some form of spell, maybe some kind of magic instrument, that rendered him invisible and let him move around that way. He always was near the top, hierarchy-wise. Maybe he used those powers to maintain his position.”
And we’d always had such a lofty opinion of him. I swore to God, when it came to the dealings of our upper echelons, it was like the court of Caligula sometimes. I struggled to make sense of what I’d just been told.
“So if Hanlon killed him, then he might have gotten hold of the instrument in question.”
Willets pursed his lips. “It’s more than likely.”
“And you’ve no idea what it might be?”
“None. But there’s one person who definitely will know.”
I got that one straightaway.
“Millicent?” The way she’d scrabbled through those desk drawers. “What can you tell me about
He finally peered at me with that unnervingly bright gaze of his.
“I know why you’re here,” he told me. “It’s about Lucas Tollburn, right?”
I looked him straight in the carmine-centered eye.
“Of course. Was it Hanlon who killed him?”
In addition to the red ones, Willets had a powerful inner eye that had a habit of fastening on anything remarkable that happened in the Landing. And he gave a cautious nod.
“I saw him approach Tollburn’s house, but not what happened after that. Circumstantial evidence, then. But this is not a court of law, so I’d suppose that it’ll do.”
I felt bemused. His gaze normally penetrated almost anywhere. Why hadn’t he seen more? But he seemed to understand what was concerning me.
“Ever since I first developed my powers, I’ve been aware of certain things regarding Tollburn. Firstly, he was a far more complexly talented adept than anyone ever suspected. His maternal grandmother was Erin Luce, one of the great dowager-witches of Victorian times, and he learned his magic at her knee. So I suppose that should have been predicted.”
He was right. I waited for him to go on.
“Secondly, for most of his life, he had not one but two Spells of Shielding set in place around him. One around his home, and the other around his actual person.”
“Stopping him from being watched?” I asked.
“Exactly.”
“Which is why you didn’t see the murder.”
Willets looked pensive and troubled.
“Tollburn was a mystery to me. Despite the fact I could not see him, I could sense him sometimes. And often, come nightfall, in places where he ought not be.”
Which was a completely new one to me. There had been no hint of that before. I felt my eyebrows rise.
“Other people’s homes, for instance,” he continued. “While they were asleep.”
But we were talking about a man in his eighties. What exactly was the doctor suggesting?
The pigeon on the rafter rustled its wings and then stopped again. Powder from them floated downward through the gloom, making it sparkle slightly.
“This was recently?” I asked.
He nodded. “Almost up until his death. I could feel him skulking around. But, no…”
He could see what was bothering me.
“Not physically, you understand.”
I didn’t. But I didn’t press him either. Willets took his time about explaining things, and it was usually worth the wait.
“More like his undiluted spirit. He went all over town that way, and stopped in certain places, just watching and listening.”
“But you said the people he visited were asleep.”
His head came up a few inches. “Watching and listening to their dreams, perhaps?”
And altering them to his benefit? A chill ran through me, at that thought. I had heard of some pretty weird power games being played by the Sycamore Hill set. Influence and status were like food and drink up there. But this capped almost everything. What exactly had the man been doing?
“You want to hear my theory?” the doctor asked, breaking across my train of thought. “I think Lucas Tollburn had some form of spell, maybe some kind of magic instrument, that rendered him invisible and let him move around that way. He always was near the top, hierarchy-wise. Maybe he used those powers to maintain his position.”
And we’d always had such a lofty opinion of him. I swore to God, when it came to the dealings of our upper echelons, it was like the court of Caligula sometimes. I struggled to make sense of what I’d just been told.
“So if Hanlon killed him, then he might have gotten hold of the instrument in question.”
Willets pursed his lips. “It’s more than likely.”
“And you’ve no idea what it might be?”
“None. But there’s one person who definitely will know.”
I got that one straightaway.
“Millicent?” The way she’d scrabbled through those desk drawers. “What can you tell me about
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