Arthur went cold and silent.
“I went to the antiques shop,” Wesley started. “And yes, I was arguing with Brodigan—Giovacchini—with that fellow, whatever his name is. We were in the back office. And then we heard this horrible scratching, like claws on the window—”
Arthur paled.
“—then someone snapped the lock on the front door, I’ve no idea how. I heard them talk; there were three of them. They called Brodigan asubordinate paranormal—does that mean anything to you?”
Arthur nearly choked. “A code word, perhaps,” he lied. “Did you see them?” he quickly added, before Wesley could ask anything further.
Wesley swallowed and shook his head. “I—I didn’t—he convinced me not to interfere.” He uncharacteristically stumbled over the words. There was a haunted look in his eyes, a man who’d made a hard choice and still wasn’t sure he’d done right. “He told me to stay out of sight. He said there was an eight-year-old girl upstairs, in danger. He saidyoucould be in danger. The way he said it—I believed him.”
Arthur’s heart was pounding. “He was telling the truth,” he said tightly. A truth perfectly calculated to keep Wesley safe while Rory sacrificed himself, and Arthur was both grateful and furious.
“There was an Englishman and two others, an American woman and another man, Spanish perhaps, if I had to guess from their voices. I didn’t see their faces. They took Brodigan with them.” Wesley ran a hand over his face, looking ill. “I found the little girl upstairs after, she’s safe. But I let them take Brodigan, and Arthur, I swear, if he hadn’t told me about the girl, I wouldn’t have—”
“I know.” Wesley had many faults, but he also had a medal of his own from the battlefield. He wouldn’t have given up Rory out of cowardice, or even out of spite, no matter how angry he’d been.
“But I don’t understand,” Wesley said. “He’s just an antiques dealer, and he didn’t look like he had two pennies to rub together. Is he in bad with mobsters? But if that’s the case, he should have taken my money—”
Arthur stared. “You offered topay him? To, what—leave me?”
“I assumed money was all he wanted!” Wesley winced at Arthur’s expression, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “And as offended as you look, he was twice as outraged, so fine. You star-crossed fools deserve each other.” He pursed his lips. “Was he kidnapped to get to you?”
Arthur shook his head. “He’s the prize,” he said, as he reached for the door.
“Wait—” Wesley grabbed Arthur’s arm. “Are we going to the police?”
“No.”
“But—”
“Donotcall the police. This can’t involve innocent law enforcement. I need bigger guns.”
Wesley furrowed his brow. “Who’s bigger than the police?”
Jade. Zhang. He clapped Wesley on the shoulder. “There’s something else I need you to do for me.”
Wesley folded his arms, but he was listening for once.
Arthur pointed to the door. “Go into that reception and make my excuses. I don’t care what or how. Lie for me, tell anyone who asks that I’m around somewhere. And talk up John; whatever you need to say to make the governor think highly of my brother.”
Wesley frowned, but said, “All right, very well. But where do you suppose they were taking Brodigan—?” He threw up his hands as Arthur pushed past him for the door. “At least tell me where you’re going.”
“To the Lower East Side.” Arthur pulled open the door. “For people bigger than the police.”
It took Arthur thirty minutes to navigate the choked streets back down to Chinatown. He left the car illegally parked in front of the Dragon House, ignoring the stares as he strode up to the window. The teahouse hadn’t opened for dinner yet, but he knocked on the glass door.
It took a few minutes, longer than usual, but finally Ling was hurrying toward him “They’re still unconscious,” she said, as she unlocked the door and opened it.
“Unconscious?”Arthur’s stomach dropped as he stepped inside. “Who?”
But he could guess, because his wait had been long because Zhang wasn’t awake to see him outside.
“Jianwei and Miss Robbins,” said Ling, confirming Arthur’s fears. “We found them that way, the library ceiling cracked and a bookshelf broken, two of Pavel’s potions shattered.”
And Arthur hadn’t been around to do anything about it because he’d run. “Are they—”
“They’re all right. We got them into bed. My aunt thinks they’ll wake in a few hours and be fine. It’s Pavel’s potions; wild, but they don’t hurt people.” She added regretfully, “We’re looking, but we haven’t found Rory yet. Without Jianwei, we can only look on foot.”
