“How do you know I didn’t do it when I fell into the hedge?”Neil challenged.
“Well…” Ellie prodded lightly at the injury.“You can see where the heat from the bullet has slightly cauterized the outer edges of the… er…”
She trailed off as she took in Neil’s alarming pallor.
“We can wrap it up nicely for you,” Ellie assured him instead.
“Not until I’ve had a better look at it,” Constance cut in crossly.“I’ve never seen an actual gunshot wound before—even one that hasn’t made a hole.”
Neil clamped a hand over the injury—wincing at the contact—then treated her to a forbidding glare.“No.”
Constance slumped down onto the settee with a pout.
Giving up on trying to contort himself into the right angle for a look, Neil turned to a small mirror mounted on the wall.He shifted until the raw, blood-smeared welt slashing across the side of his abdomen was framed in the glass.
“Eurrrgh,” he gurgled queasily.
“Throw a little petroleum jelly on there, and you’ll be good as new in a day or two,” Adam helpfully instructed him.
“Were you able to confirm Colonel Borthwick’s location while you were entirely ignoring my instructions and getting yourselves shot?”Mr.Chowdhury mildly inquired as he sat back down in his chair, legs elegantly crossed.
“We did better than that.”Constance perked up excitedly.“We know exactly where he’s keeping the book.If I’m able to return to the building with a bag of sawdust, twenty or so yards of rope, and a live rooster, I feel quite certain—”
“There’s also this.”Neil pulled a piece of crumpled paper from his pocket.It looked only slightly damp, unlike the rest of him.He offered it to Mr.Chowdhury.
“The nominative case?” Mr.Chowdhury skeptically read from the page.
“Ignore all that,” Neil instructed with an embarrassed flush.“It’s the rest of it that might help—the Brahmi.”
Ellie hurried over to Mr.Chowdhury, tripping slightly over the throw blanket that she still wore.“What Brahmi?”
“The Brahmi from the manuscript,” Neil elaborated.“Or at least the last page of it.I managed to copy it down before Borthwick, er…”
“Became aware of our espionage and shot Neil,” Constance filled in cheerfully.
“I have not been shot,” Neil protested again, still looking green.
“Just grazed a little,” Adam helpfully elaborated.
Ellie leaned further over Mr.Chowdhury’s shoulder for a better angle, consumed by scholarly curiosity about the transcription.
Mr.Chowdhury cocked his eyebrow in a manner that perfectly combined a hint of amusement with mild disapproval.
“Er… sorry,” Ellie began awkwardly.“It’s only that I have a tremendous interest in ancient Indo-Aryan languages…”
He handed her the paper, rising from his chair.
Ellie snatched it, dropped into his seat, and eagerly scanned Neil’s copied lines.“Oh, but this is wonderful!Do you know, I think I can see some similarities to Phoenician in some of the character styles.”
“Are there really?”Neil perked up, forgetting his injury for a moment to come peer over Ellie’s shoulder.
“Do we need the book if we’ve got a copy of the important stuff?”Adam asked.
Mr.Chowdhury moved to the doors that opened onto the suite’s narrow balcony.He studied the rooftops, which still glistened from the recent downpour.“Trying to get the manuscript from Borthwick involves risk—which is why I very clearly instructed you not to try to do it.”
“We weren’ttrying, exactly,” Constance protested.“We just… fell into it.”
“Fell into the colonel’s study,” the solicitor returned dryly.He frowned, his mind working.“It will take Borthwick time to track down someone who can translate the text.If we can beat him to it and reach the astra first, it might be possible to avoid a confrontation entirely.”
