“Coming to the rescue of cultists again?” I snorted.

“Sectarians,” Davidson reminded me with a waggle of his finger. “They’re officially referred to as ‘Sectarians.’”

“Your timing is impeccable as usual,” I said. “Do the Sectarians have you on their payroll as well?”

Davidson shook his head and resumed his politician’s smile. “The Mayor istrying to look afterall his constituents and their needs, Simon. He doesn’t play sides.”

Perhaps the Department had a mole or a leak that had alerted Davidson. Perhaps it was Wesker who was really playing both sides and he had called Davidson in. That mystery would have to wait, though. Right now I was too busy having trouble just moving.

Davidson’s words had an immobilizing and calming effect, the same one that I had experienced during our initial encounter at the Sectarian Defense League. Davidson made his way to Faisal and started undoing the rope, and although I wanted to stop him, I could barely move. The best I could muster was a leisurely stroll down the aisle toward them.

The Inspectre seemed to be the only one unaffected. “Seems to me that no matter how you dress it up, Mr. Davidson, evil is still evil.”

I think his understanding of the politics of it all was the only thing that kept the Inspectre from laying a hand on Davidson as he released our prisoner.

“Everything okay, Mr. Bane?” Davidson asked as the last coil of the rope fell to the floor. “Are you hurt?”

Faisal stood, brushing the creases out of his suit. “Only my pride, Mr. Davidson. Only my pride. Somehow this young man here got the drop on me in my offices and gave me a bit of a wallop. Not sure how he pulled it off really, but perhaps I’ll press charges.”

Although I didn’t like the idea of having charges pressed against me, I was somewhat relieved that we hadn’t blown Wesker’s cover.

“You’ll have to take that up with the police,” Davidson said. This seemed to disappoint Faisal, and he frowned.

“Took your time getting here, didn’t you?” Faisal said with a sneer.

Davidson’s smile faltered for a second. “The wheels of justice are ever turning, Mr. Bane, if not always briskly.”

By the time the effects of whatever Davidson had done wore off, I found myself standing next to Inspectre Quimbley. His eyes were fixed on Connor. Something unspoken was happening, but I didn’t know what. The Inspectre put his hand lightly on my shoulder.

“Simon,” he said, “be a dear boy and hand me that clipboard over there, would you?”

I slipped on one of my gloves. I had no idea if I would get a reading from the clipboard but I grabbed it and handed it over. The Inspectre casually slipped the manifest page onto it and slowly began to creep the whole thing behind his back.

Faisal paused from sneering at David Davidson and cocked his head in our direction. He tsked-tsked us. “I’ll be taking that back, thank you.”

“What?” the Inspectre said with feigned ignorance. “Oh…this? Yes, of course you will…”

He pulled the manifest free of the clipboard and held it out to the head Sectarian. Faisal raised one of his thick, black eyebrows. “It’s good to see such obedience.” He turned to me. “You could learn a thing or two from him, lapdog.”

“I’ve learned plenty,” I said, feeling totally ineffectual. “And I’ll learn what you did to Irene, too.”

“Perhaps,” he said with a smile, “but if you could only prove it…or anything for that matter.”

Davidson stepped in at this moment. “You don’t have to say anything more, Mr. Bane. We’re leaving.”

“No,” Faisal said almost cheerfully as he narrowed in on me. “I don’t mind. Tell me, Mr. Canderous, you seem quite taken by Ms. Blatt, don’t you? Every time I run into you, I seem to be subjected to one of your little fits of misguided bravado over her.”

I felt embarrassed and angry at the same time, my face turning bright red. I did care for Irene, but I didn’t want all of it coming out right here in front of my own Department-especially in front of Connor. I didn’t even want to think of what the Inspectre would make of my involvement in all this.

“Your obsession with Irene,” Faisal continued, “seems to be clouding your judgment, I suspect, and corollary to that, it causes you to meddle in my affairs far too often. Maybe what I have to say now will make you back off my people once and for all.”

“Are you going to threaten to kill me?” I said.

“Yes, you’d like me to say something like that, wouldn’t you?” he said. “Here in a room full of witnesses. No such luck, I’m afraid, but I want to give you something to think about.” His eyes fell to the manifest and he tapped his finger at the page. “You’re terribly concerned about this wooden fish. So intent on getting it back. Did you ever give a thought for a single second that maybe the fish wasn’t Irene Blatt’s in the first place?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I made a sudden lunge for the manifest but he easily avoided me and held it out of reach.

“The day you accosted one of my fellow Sectarians in Ms. Blatt’s apartment…did you take a good look at her place? Anything strike you odd? Single woman…living all alone in a veritable paradise of antiquities…?”

I recalled her apartment, trashed as it was. Her tastes and collecting habits were so similar to things I had or would love to own. It was one of the first things that had intrigued me about her. I lived in the same type of antique-freaque way, and maybe I needed to start looking at our similarities for clues instead. Maybe she was more like me than I thought.

“She’s a psychic?”

Faisal scrunched his face at me, looking like one of those Chinese dogs with all the wrinkles. “What?! No, you nitwit!”

“Then I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t know why she owned all that stuff. Maybe she had a rich family or something.”

Part of hunting down who Irene Blatt truly was had fallen to me, and the truth was I hadn’t been able to come up with much on her in the real world. Over the past week, it had fallen farther down the list of priorities, especially with Tamara’s death and Jane’s appearance in my life.

“Irene had a bit of a habit,” he said. “A real pro with the sticky fingers. A little something that you can see she turned into quite a profitable career.”

“She’s no thief,” I said defensively. There was only one ex-thief around here, and that was me. I moved for Faisal, but the Inspectre held me back.

“Wasn’t she?” Faisal said. He folded the manifest and slipped it in his pocket. “Then answer me this: What was she doing freelancing for a filthy cultist like me then? I suppose the fact that she whored out her skills in high-class, high-stakes thievery to us was just a coincidence. And when she got a little greedy over one of my commissions and decided to hold out for more money…”

“Hold on,” Davidson interjected. “Hold on for a second. Are you implying you had someone murdered? The Mayor’s Office does not condone that sort of conflict resolution…”

“Just giving Mr. Canderous here some hypothetical food for thought,” Faisal said. “Of course we would havenever harmed her.”

As he turned away from Davidson, Faisal winked at me and I snapped. I couldn’t help myself. I dove forward, intent on killing him if I could just, God willing, wrap my hands around his neck. He was begging for the eternal dirt nap, and I was more than happy to be the one to give it to him.

The Inspectre had me by the arm and was trying to pull me back, but I didn’t take notice until I felt a second set of arms wrap around my waist. Connor had joined our little circle of friends.

“Don’t,” he whispered in my ear as I struggled to break free. “That’s what he wants, kid. Davidson will be witness to it, report it back to Town Hall, and they’ll shut us down faster than you’d believe.”

“We’re just going to let him walk out of here?” I asked.

Inspectre Quimbley nodded.