Page 61 of Hawk & Sparrow

The rest of her words were lost in the sharp crack of a gunshot.

NINETEEN

SUNDAY, 13TH OF NOVEMBER—11:46 A.M.

Around her, people were screaming.

The street’s calm devolved into chaos. In seconds, people were running, knocking one another over as they tried to flee.

“Evans, come on!”

Vesper felt Maximilian grab her by the upper arm and drag her away. They’d almost reached the end of Main Street. People were darting left and right down the intersecting road. She was all right, Maximilian was all right, but … a bolt of white-hot panic knifed through her. What about Tom and Nell? Rory and Ronaldo? She dug the heels of her boots into the ground, forcing Maximilian to stop. He stared at her, bewildered.

“We need to get out of here, Evans,” he said urgently. “It’s not safe.”

“I can’t leave.” Vesper shook her head. “I came here with other people from the Globe. I can’t go without making sure none of them is still in the market. You don’t have to stay, but I’m going back.”

For a moment, Maximilian seemed to wrestle with himself. Then he inhaled sharply. “Let’s go.”

Vesper turned and headed back down Main Street. Several vendor tables had been overturned, and it looked as though several people had been knocked over or roughed up in the melee. She looked up and down the street.

“Tom! Nell! Rory! Ronaldo!”

No answer. Vesper’s panic grew more acute. Several of the labor protesters from earlier were being cuffed by police, a few of them shouting obscenities. She looked away. Her eyes had just caught on something at the very end of the street. Several uniformed police officers were standing in a circle around something, someone. She made out Chief Stettner in the midst of them. Vesper’s pulse leapt to her throat as she drew closer. At the sharp click of her boots on the pavement, Stettner turned around. His gaze was wary.

“Miss Evans,” he said as she ran forward. “Stand back. This is a police—”

Vesper ignored the police chief as she pushed past him, then froze.

Charles Belver was lying on the ground dead, a single bullet hole in his chest.

TWENTY

FRIDAY, 18TH OF NOVEMBER—1:03 P.M.

The sky was an ominous pale green as Vesper stood before the steel casket.

She wasn’t alone. Around her stood most of Basalton’s high society, all dressed in formal black, all with their heads bowed in collective solemnity. A member of the clergy was standing next to the casket. He checked his pocket watch, then began.

“Good afternoon,” he murmured. “Today, we are gathered to remember the life of our dear friend Charles Michael Belver. We’ll begin with the reading of the eulogy…”

Vesper let her mind wander as he went on. When he was finished, he gestured for Mrs. Belver to step forward. She was wearing a black veil that covered most of her face, but Vesper still saw the woman’s bottom lip tremble as she laid a single white lily on her husband’s casket before taking her seat. The clergyman gestured, and everyone else came forward to lay their own lilies. Once the last person had laid theirs, the clergyman folded his hands and bowed.

“Peace be with you all,” he said gravely.

The rest of the mourners dispersed after that, but Vesper remained standing at Charles Belver’s grave. Maximilian stood next to her, and the two stayed silent as the groundskeeper lowered the casket into the ground. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t quite accept it.

Charles Belver was dead.

The news of what had happened had spread through Basalton like an epidemic. Vesper had heard at least three different variations of the story on the street, but the same details had cropped up enough times to paint a picture. Belver, it seemed, had been underpaying his workers at Belver Steel, a cost-cutting measure he’d employed to try to keep the failing company afloat. A disgruntled worker who’d been protesting at the farmer’s market had seen him, and decided to take matters into his own hands. Now one of this city’s captains of industry was dead, and they were back to square one.

“Miss Evans?”

Finally, she looked up at Maximilian. He seemed hesitant.

“Are you … all right?”

“I’m fine,” said Vesper. “Just thinking about what I need to do for the Globe. Let’s meet at Guillermo’s tomorrow.”