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Vale’s smile narrowed even further. ‘Why, Mr Strongrock, the fact that they mirrored my own. I suspect that we are investigating the same matter. To be frank, sir, if we are both chasing the same hare, I would rather that you did not start it and cause us both to lose it.’
Kai darted Irene a glance. Clear as daylight, she read a desperate plea for help in his eyes. ‘Mm,’ he said meditatively.
Irene gasped. It was probably a little theatrical, but, she hoped, not too much so. ‘Mr Strongrock! Our investigation is strictly private! Even if His Lord— that is, even if Mr Vale is a famous private detective, we could be looking into entirely different matters!’
She hoped that conveyed the message of we need more information thoroughly enough.
Kai patted her on the hand soothingly. ‘My associate has a point, Mr Vale,’ he said. ‘We are operating under conditions of strict confidentiality.’
‘As am I, sir,’ Vale said with equanimity, not seeming at all put off. ‘Whatever minor assumptions I might make about you are simply the result of anything you may have revealed to me yourselves, rather than from any investigations on my part.’
Kai raised his eyebrows. ‘But we have revealed nothing to you,’ he said, a moment before Irene could kick his ankle.
‘Forgive me when I say that it is obvious that you are strangers to London,’ Vale said. He turned his glass in his hand, regarding it with a dry smugness. ‘I am not speaking merely of Mr Strongrock’s need to check the street signs when leaving the Liechtenstein Embassy. Neither of you have the accent of native Londoners, and to be truthful, I cannot place either of you within the British Isles.’ He frowned a little. ‘Which is unusual. Miss Winters might perhaps have a trace of Germanic brutality to her verbs – possibly the result of a governess or boarding school at an impressionable age? Mr Strongrock, on the other hand, has the accent and the bearing characteristic of certain noble families of Shanghai. While neither of these in themselves is that unusual in London, both of you are dressed in a manner that suggests a hasty choice of clothing from a second-rate supplier. Miss Winters’s gloves, for instance.’
Irene glanced down at her gloves, which lay next to her table setting, unable to resist the impulse. She knew that they clashed with her dress, but there hadn’t been much of a choice in the shop.
‘Precisely,’ Vale said. ‘A woman as carefully turned out as Miss Winters would not commit such an elementary error in dress. Similarly, Mr Strongrock’s shoes – ’ Kai shuffled his feet further under his chair – ‘were clearly worn before him by a man with the habit of kicking the right side of his forefoot against his chair, but Mr Strongrock himself does not do so. And if the two of you had been in London for a while now, and making enquiries about Lord Wyndham and the Liechtenstein Embassy, then I assure you that I would have known about it.’
Kai opened his mouth, and Irene realized that he was about to say something like how did you know I asked about Lord Wyndham? Apparently he had never been taught the first defence in the science of provocative questioning: Keep Your Mouth Shut. This time she did manage to kick him under the table. He shut his mouth again.
‘Mm,’ Vale said, apparently satisfied. ‘A sharing of information could be quite useful. But on the other hand, as Miss Winters has said, we could be looking into entirely different matters. I believe we have come to the point where we decide whether or not to trust one another.’
‘So it seems,’ Kai said, making a recovery. ‘Some more wine?’
‘Thank you,’ Vale said, extending his glass to be filled.
There was silence for a few minutes. Irene turned over various strategies in her mind. Unfortunately, most of them involved Vale briefly leaving the table so that she could talk urgently with Kai, and this seemed unlikely to happen. She was simultaneously impressed by the man’s skills of observation, and significantly worried by them. This sort of intellect was splendid in fictional characters, but in practice it risked making their task a great deal more awkward. Fortunately, the situation was interrupted by screams and loud grinding noises from the street. Diners dropped their knives and forks to turn towards the doorway. A couple of men leaped to their feet, wineglasses still in their hands.
Kai managed an infinitesimal blink at Irene, then turned to Vale. ‘Do you think we should investigate, sir?’
‘Of course!’ Vale exclaimed, rising. He picked up his swordstick, balancing it casually in his left hand. ‘Madam, kindly stay here. Mr Strongrock, if you would accompany me – ’ He strode towards the door.
‘What do I do?’ Kai hissed at Irene.
‘Stay with him,’ Irene whispered. ‘I’ll hold back. Find out what’s going on. Be careful, he’s a detective.’
‘I’d worked that bit out,’ Kai muttered. But he displayed a wild enthusiasm as he raced after Vale, an eagerness for action.
Irene glanced around as the two men raced off. Nobody creeping out of the shadows to try to abduct her while their attention was elsewhere. Good. She picked up her bag and walked after them.
The restaurant’s reception area had large glass windows which provided a convenient view of the street outside. The place was in total chaos. A giant mechanical centipede – well, some sort of segmented insect with multiple legs, Irene was hardly going to stand there and count them all – was wreaking havoc in the narrow alleyway outside. She spotted a badly damaged cart and several broken windows. There was barely room for it to navigate, let alone turn around, and it was dancing a few steps forward and then a few steps back as its front feelers seemed to quest for something or someone. Oil oozed from its crevices, while steam puffed from its head-segment and mingled with the ambient fog. She noticed that a couple of people had already been hurt and bystanders were screaming and running in all directions. Then of course pausing, at a theoretically safe distance, to watch what it did next.
Kai and Vale were standing in the doorway, assessing it. At least, Vale looked as if he was assessing it. Kai just looked stunned.
‘How the hell did that thing get through the streets?’ Kai asked.
Vale sniffed. ‘It probably came up from the sewers. The recent renovation programme has been a godsend to criminals across London.’
‘Vale!’ The creature’s echoing voice boomed down the street. ‘Prepare to face your doom!’
‘Ah,’ Vale said cheerfully, ‘it’s for me.’
Kai looked hurt. ‘It might have got us confused,’ he said. ‘Perhaps it’s for me.’
‘No, no, I assure you it’s for me,’ Vale said. ‘But would you mind watching the rear end while I distract the front? Sometimes they have high-emission scintillotherms located there.’
‘Of course,’ Kai said. ‘Not a problem.’
