Page 71 of Hawk & Sparrow

“Funny.” Richard’s expression didn’t betray even a shred of humor. “I don’t believe you.”

“It’d be easy enough to get the truth out of them,” said the blond Rouser holding Maximilian. Now that they were in proper light, Vesper saw that the man was younger than she’d expected, but there was a hardness in his eyes that aged him. He kept his grip on Maximilian tight, but with his other hand, he withdrew something from his pocket, and flicked it. Vesper saw the silver glint of a switchblade, and shivered.

“Hold on,” said Maximilian, his voice strained. “We only came to the pub because we were trying to get information on Francis Gladwell.”

Richard grimaced. “I knew it. Coppers.”

Oh, for goodness’ sake. “We are not with the police,” said Vesper firmly. “We were just trying to figure out why Francis Gladwell joined the Rousers!”

There was a long pause. The anger on Richard’s face was replaced with open confusion. “What?”

“Wasn’t he a member?” Vesper asked.

The Rouser holding on to her let out a dry laugh, and Richard shook his head.

“I don’t know where you got your information,” he said, “but Frankie was no Rouser.”

“He had dealings with you though,” Vesper pressed. “His—someone said that they saw him with the Thally Rousers. They thought he might have some sort of business with them.”

Richard scoffed. “We are a diverse enterprise.” A hint of amusement touched his expression. “There are any number of reasons he could have been seen with one of our members.”

“Would any of those reasons require significant amounts of money?” Vesper asked.

Richard hesitated. “You’ll have to speak to the boss.”

Vesper started at the same time Maximilian said: “Wait, isn’t that you?”

Richard shook his head. “I serve as first captain, but Thally’s the boss. That’s who you’ll need to speak to.”

“When?”

“Now,” said Richard. “Thally’s asked to see you, that’s why you’ve been brought here. I’m taking you up to the office.”

Vesper tensed. The Thally Rousers’ boss had asked to see them. Why?

“A few rules,” said Richard. “You don’t speak unless spoken to. You don’t sit down unless invited to do so. You insult the boss? You answer to us.”

Vesper swallowed. “Understood.”

Richard nodded, and the Rousers holding on to them turned them around and marched them out of the room and up a flight of narrow, rickety stairs. There was only one door at the top of the landing, and only once they’d reached it were they released and shoved forward. Vesper started for the door, but Maximilian caught her wrist.

“Let me go first,” he said firmly.

Vesper nodded. She watched as Maximilian took a deep breath, as if to gird himself, then turned the door’s handle and stepped inside. At once, the concentrated smell of cigarette smoke made her want to choke, but Vesper kept silent as she filed in behind him.

They were standing in an office. A large oak desk was positioned in the center of the room. On it sat a single white candle. Vesper’s eyes adjusted, and she noted that there was a figure sitting behind the desk, a silhouette cloaked almost entirely in shadow.

“Well, well.” A low, gravelly voice broke the heavy silence. “What have we here?”

“Mr. Thally, my name is Vesper Evans.” Her voice trembled as she began. “We’re here because we’re looking for answers about Francis Gladwell, the inventor who was recently—”

The figure suddenly leaned forward, so that the candlelight illuminated one half of their face, and threw the other half into sharp relief. Whatever words Vesper had been about to say disappeared.

“I…?”

The old woman sitting behind the desk was small, fair-skinned, and heavyset, with cottony white hair styled into an elaborate updo piled high on her head. An amused smile touched her face.

“Not what you were expecting?”