“I don’t understand,” Virginia said. “There is no record of my appointment with Lady Hollister.”
Owen struck another light and studied the appointment journal that was open on the assistant’s desk. It showed no booking for Virginia on the night she had been sent to the mansion.
“How did you receive word that you had been requested for a reading?”
“The usual way. I got a message from Mrs. Fordham. It was a lastminute booking. Mrs. Fordham explained in her note that Gilmore Leybrook himself was eager for me to accept the commission. Leybrook is very keen on attracting high-quality clients to the Institute.”
TWENTY-TWO
What do you know of Gilmore Leybrook?” Owen asked.
“Very little, to be honest,” Virginia said. “No one does. He is a talent of some kind, but I’ve never been certain of the exact nature of his ability. He arrived on the London scene about a year ago and established the Institute. He was successful right from the start.”
“He must have money, in that case. The Institute is an expensive operation.”
“One of Leybrook’s many talents is his ability to attract funding for the Institute,” Virginia said dryly. “He is charming and persuasive. There is something about him that draws people to him.”
“A side effect of his talent, perhaps, whatever it is.”
They were back on the street, walking toward the park, where Owen hoped that they would find a cab. That prospect was dimming rapidly. The streets around the Institute were empty. It was nearly midnight, and the fog had thickened to the point where the gas lamps appeared only as glary orbs in the mist, the light they cast all but useless.
Part of him was attuned to the currents of the night, listening for the sound of footsteps that might signal the approach of a footpad. But they had the street to themselves. Normal people, not even normal street thieves, went abroad at night in such an impenetrable atmosphere, he thought. But he and Virginia were not what most people would call normal.
It felt good to share the night and the hunt with this woman at his side. It felt right.
“If we are correct in our initial conclusions, you were the killer’s intended victim the night you read the looking glass for Lady Hollister,” Owen said. “But things went wrong. Hollister ended up dead, and you and one of Hollister’s other intended victims, Becky, escaped. I am quite certain the second killer did not plan that ending to the affair.”
“What was Becky doing there that night?” Virginia asked. “Why would she have been needed if I was the intended subject of the experiment?”
“Good question. I asked one of my aunts to stop by the Elm Street charity house today to inquire about Becky.”
“You did?” Virginia turned her head quickly to look at him. “Was there any news of her?”
“My Aunt Ethel reports that Mrs. Mallory was able to persuade Becky to attend the charity school.”
“I’m so glad,” Virginia said. “If she learns typing or telegraphy she will have a chance to forge a respectable career for herself. She will be able to escape the streets. I still find it hard to believe that Arcane has taken over responsibility for the school.”
“A sign of a change in the organization, perhaps,” Owen said.
“I’m far from convinced that Arcane is truly changing, but I suppose I must allow for that possibility.”
They walked in silence for a time, their footsteps echoing eerily in the fog.
“There is something else besides my talent and my association with the Institute that I have in common with Ratford and Hackett, now that I think about it,” Virginia said after a while.
He glanced at her, but in the darkness she was all but invisible to the eye. But not to his other senses, he thought. He would always know when she was anywhere in the vicinity. Her energy would always thrill him.
“What is that?” he asked.
“Ratford and Hackett were both spinsters with no immediate family. So am I. The deaths of women like us, those who are alone in the world, are almost certain to go unnoticed by the authorities.”
“The killer did not take Arcane and its new investigative agency into account,” Owen said. A cold satisfaction flashed through him. “That will prove to be his great mistake.”
“No,” Virginia said quietly. “His mistake was that he did not take you into account, Owen Sweetwater.”
At the end of the street, carriage lights glowed weakly in the fog.
“We’re in luck,” Owen said.
They quickened their pace. The driver was glad of the fare on what had evidently been a very slow night. Owen bundled Virginia into the cab and sat down across from her. The vehicle rumbled forward.
“I may have an idea,” Virginia said with a meditative air. “I do not know if it will be of any use, but you might find it of interest.”
“Tell me,” he said.
“There is a social event planned at the Institute tomorrow night. Everyone connected to the organization will be there. Leybrook is giving a reception in honor of D. D. Pinkerton, the mentalist from America. Pinkerton arrived recently in London and is very popular. Leybrook hopes to persuade him to become affiliated with the Institute.”
“You are thinking that perhaps the killer may be in the crowd?”
“If he is involved with the Institute, as you believe, then yes, it is very likely that he will attend,” Virginia said. “Of course, there will probably be over a hundred people there. That makes for a very large pool of suspects.”
“Yes, but we know a little more about him now. And I think there is every possibility that the killer will be drawn to you in the crowd.”
“What makes you believe that?”
“You were the intended subject of his grand experiment, whatever it is, and you got away. You ruined his plans. He wanted you before, but now he will be obsessed with you.”
“You sound very sure of your analysis of his thinking.”
Owen looked out the window into the night. “It is what I do, Virginia. It is the way I hunt. I saw the killer’s obsessive nature in the energy he left at the scenes of the murders. He is driven by a force that is as strong as physical passion. In fact, the compulsion is a form of sexual desire.”
She frowned. “I don’t understand.”
Owen turned back to her. “When he returns to the scenes of the murders, he no doubt tells himself that he is merely studying the evidence of his successful experiments. But the truth is that the scenes of death arouse him in a sexual manner. He is thrilled by what he has accomplished.”
“Thrilled by the act of murder?”
“The death scenes fill him with a ravishing sense of his own power. I suspect that in the past he has felt quite the opposite. Weak and powerless. Unimportant. But now he has found a way to make himself feel strong and powerful. He has become addicted to the sensation. He will continue to kill until he is stopped.”
She shuddered. “And all the while he will tell himself that he is actually conducting some sort of scientific experiment.”
“Yes. You say you plan to attend the reception at the Institute?”
“Certainly. The receptions are good for business. Leybrook gives them regularly. My colleagues and competitors will all be present.”
“I will escort you.”
She blinked. “Are you serious?”
“When it comes to the hunt, I am always serious.”
She pursed her lips. “I really don’t think that is a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“I am planning to attend with a friend.”
