Dorian Vane stepped into the belfry without appearing to have passed Marie on the stairs. Rain shone on the world behind him, but not on his tailored coat. One pale altered eye settled on Caro’s shadow. His smile was the smile of a merchant recognizing merchandise.
“Inspector Blackledger,” he said. “Marie has been hiding her most interesting junior.”
Nelly moved between him and Caro. “Senior Inspector Brass does not hide evidence.”
“No. She files it where no one sensible would look.” His pale eye flicked toward Nelly’s dark hand. “Usually under personnel.”
Caro’s shadow bared moon-white teeth. Nelly’s answered with a growl that shook dust from the bell. Dorian’s smile warmed, which was worse than if it had vanished.
He produced a narrow contract bound in red thread. Hollowbell’s council marks crowded the bottom. Caro’s name appeared in the margin in a different hand. “The town received thirty-seven years of harvest. Payment is overdue. I have come for the guardian and the bell ringer who concealed it.”
“I never signed,” Caro said.
“Your ancestor did. In perpetuity is such an economical phrase.”
Nelly examined the paper without touching it. “The contract identifies the shadow as communal collateral. You are attempting to reclaim it from an individual bearer.”
“An administrative distinction.”
“Those are the Bureau’s favorite kind.”
For the first time, Dorian looked at Nelly rather than through her. He offered to release Caro if Nelly surrendered the wolf-shadow attached to her own hand for examination. He called it an exchange between professionals. He knew the name of the sealed inventory room where she had first encountered it. He knew Marie had removed seven pages from the incident report.
Nelly wanted to look toward the stair. She did not. If Marie had secrets, Dorian would not be permitted to use Nelly’s face to open them.
Behind her, Caro quietly wound the bell rope around his bandaged hands. “Inspector,” he said, no longer asking whether she had come to take the shadow. “Tell me when.”
Dorian extended his altered hand. Its fingers lengthened through the lantern light, shadow-dark and precise, made for separating one impossible thing from another. “There is still time,” he said, “for everyone here to leave believing they were paid.”