Quimbley nodded in response, and gulped down a deep breath as he gathered his composure, starting with grooming his walruslike mustache.

“Wesker intercepted some intel from the Sectarians,” the Inspectre said, “regarding both you and Connor showing up at their offices. He learned that even though they now have possession of the fish artifact, they were still particularly interested in Ms. Blatt. All we know is that someone was very keen on finding her and was sending someone after you. So rather than involving the Enchancellors at this point, I convinced Wesker to keep things quiet and we decided to investigate the situation ourselves. Neither of our divisions wanted the red tape and triplicate forms of openly declaring a joint venture. We tried getting you on your cell, but you didn’t answer. We feared the worst.”

“I turned itoff because I was on a surveillance mission!” I said defensively. “One you sent me on!”

The Inspectre was wheezing now.

“Sir, are you okay?”

He nodded. “Ripping good rooftops in SoHo. Took me a bit of effort to climb up to the top of the building next to you, though. That’s when we observed a woman in black moving into position near your apartment. Striking-looking young lady.”

“That would be Jane,” I muttered quietly. The two of them stared at me blankly. I kept my voice low, hoping Irene couldn’t overhear. “Bane’s errand girl? The one you sent me to watch tonight? Look, Iknow Jane was watching me. I had everything under control here.”

Wesker perked up at the mention of her. “On a first-name basis now, are you?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head perhaps just a bit too much. “She was just there when Connor and I first encountered the Sectarians. When I went a little bat happy in their reception area.”

“You realize how bad that’s going to look for your future at the Department, don’t you?” Wesker said.

I smiled weakly. “Sorry,” I added.

“Nonsense,” Quimbley said, “happens to the best of us at times, my boy. Now, where was I?”

Wesker’s face tightened and he looked like he wanted to strangle the Inspectre right there in my living room.

“I believe you were moving in on Jane…” I offered.

“Ah yes!” the Inspectre said, eyes lighting up. “Yes. Anyway,Jane had lowered herself over the edge of the building across from yours, and before I knew it, Wesker was sprinting across the rooftops like some damned fool superhero. Before I could catch up, he pulled a switchblade and flicked it through her tie-off line. I tried to call out, but alas, too late.”

It was true that Jane was with the enemy here, had even brought a gun to deal with us if she had found Irene in my apartment. Still, it bothered me to think of her being harmed. That was a gut-wrencher I hadn’t expected. I couldn’t imagine Wesker killing her in cold blood. We had procedures and protocols in place for the handling of humans under the influence of dark forces. But then again, it wasWesker we were talking about.

“He didn’t kill her, did he?” Irene asked suddenly.

Quimbley shook his head. “I don’t think so. When I looked over the edge of the rooftop, I couldn’t tell.”

Wesker stepped forward.

“Enough of this concern for the enemy,” he said and glared at Irene over my shoulder. “What isshe doing here?”

I tried to look past Wesker, seeking guidance from Quimbley, but all the old man could do was look at me sympathetically.

“Don’t look at him,” Wesker shouted. “Answer me! What is she doing here?”

I tried to compose myself, keeping my anger over his tone in check, but the best I could do was sarcasm.

“I’m sorry, Director Wesker,” I said. “I didn’t realize that the Division of Greater and Lesser Arcana had generously provided accommodations for clients such as Miss Blatt. I suppose that’s why no onenoticed her orhelped her all day when she arrived. When I stopped by the office on my way home the other night, I found her pushed aside just like another stack of paperwork. The woman was practically beside herself. So tell me, where do you propose we have Ms. Blatt stay while the investigation is ongoing?”

“We’re not in the practice of running a boardinghouse for wayward ghosts,” Wesker said testily.

“You’re not in the practice of providing accommodations forany of the entities we deal with,” I said, shouting. “Unless you count containment, of course, but Irene’s not a prisoner.”

“You want to watch your tone with me, Canderous,” Wesker said.

“Or what?” I was losing what little patience I had. Connor had warned me several times before about my handling of superiors at the D.E.A., but Wesker was being openly hostile in the presence of the Inspectre, so I wasn’t afraid. Sure, the man was dangerously ambitious and everyone knew he had it in for the Inspectre, but Quimbley was respected throughout the entire organization-and a lifetime member of the Fraternal Order of Goodness to boot! Thaddeus Wesker knew he would never be as well liked as the Inspectre and that frosted his biscuit. His general mistreatment of me was just ineffectual lashing out.

“What will you do to me?” I continued. “Last I checked, I answered directly to the Inspectre here, not to you. And since when does the Director of Greater and Lesser Arcana concern himself personally with the doings of a lesser spectral apparition like Ms. Blatt anyway?”

The words were out of my mouth before I had a chance to think of how Irene would take being called “a lesser spectral apparition.” I felt like a heel for letting the words slip out. I turned to apologize, hoping she hadn’t taken offense. But whether she had taken offense or not wasn’t an issue.

Irene Blatt had disappeared.

Wesker finally backed off when he noticed Irene had vanished. The three of us took a quick look around my apartment (I handled the investigation of the White Room) but there was no sign of Irene. Quimbley suggested that he and Wesker leave, but not before giving me orders to report to his office first thing in the morning.

I was sick to my stomach over Irene’s disappearance. I had taken her in when the rest of the Department couldn’t be bothered, made her my charge, and now I had lost her. But I couldn’t obsess over it now. There was someone else I had to check on. I headed down to the rear exit of my building and let myself out into the dark and trash bag-filled alley. The stink was powerful, but I fought back the urge to vomit and started picking my way through it.

It didn’t take long to find Jane. All I had to do was follow the soft moans and grunts of pain from a pile of trash bags that had exploded when she had landed on them. She was completely out of it when I picked her up. Next to her on the ground was a small black notebook. I scooped it up and slid it into my jacket pocket with one of my gloved hands. The last thing I wanted was to be psychometrically sucked into her life. Right now, I needed to get Jane up to my apartment.

As I carried her on to the elevator, I thought about my options. First I’d assess how badly hurt she was. Finding Irene would have to wait.

As the elevator stopped on my floor, I slid the cast iron door aside. I hurried down the hall, hoping none of my neighbors would stick their noses out, and I was thrilled when we made it to my apartment safely. I laid Jane down on my couch. She was motionless except for the telltale signs of gentle respiration. The left arm of her spy gear top was peeled away, along with several layers of skin. A slow but steady trickle of blood dripped down the side of my couch and gathered in a small pool on the floor. Her face was bruised down the left side, but otherwise she looked peaceful.

Blood was a funny thing in real life. I had seen much more gruesome sights thanks to television and the movies, never once feeling woozy. But the smell of real blood mixed with garbage in my own apartment was something else. I was barely able to hold my stomach down.