The Wolf with the Iron Jaw (Elysium #1)

Chapter Thirty-Two

Six days passed without a single Wolf sighting, even with Booker and Trinket rising early and staying out late to search for it. Two more bodies were discovered, though, both belonging to folks indebted to the Mice. The "bite" marks were similar to those that had been found on Vern and Mrs. Wotton but still too neat and precise to match the ones on the Lipstick Woman.

"They're clever, but not clever enough," Booker said, shrugging on his coat as they prepared for an early morning stroll. "They'll slip up eventually. I'm sure of it."

"I certainly hope so," Trinket said, trotting down the stairs and tugging on her gloves. "This blatant disregard for life is getting a little ridiculous. I'd like to see it come to an end."

"My dear, you're delusional if you think being found out will keep the Mice from killing."

She raised an eyebrow. "I thought it was already well-established that I'm quite delusional?"

He chuckled and pulled open the door.

A bulky man stood on the doorstep, a large fur hat in his pink, chapped hands. He gave a nervous smile, running chunky fingers through his blond hair tied back with a lovely black ribbon.

"Good morning, sir and miss," he said, his accent thickly North Eastern.

"Ah, good morning," Booker said uncertainly. "Can I help you with something?"

"Actually, I wonder if I can help you."

Booker leaned against the doorframe. "That depends on who you're affiliated with."

"I am with no one, sir. At least not yet. I heard word that you have been searching for something."

"I've no time to beat around the bush, my friend. Get to the point."

Nodding, the man inclined his head and lowered his voice. "There is tell that you are eager to capture wolf."

"That's really no secret."

"I believe I can help. I think I know creature you are searching for."

Booker narrowed his eyes and looked the man up and down. "Who are you?"

The stranger straightened his posture and extended his hand. "My name is Boris Sidorov, but most people have known me as Ignatius."

Trinket drew in a sharp breath.

Ignatius.

The Wolf's caretaker.

Booker's demeanour went from wary to delighted in a heartbeat. "Mr. Sidorov. What a pleasure to meet you. Please, come inside."

~

Boris sat rigidly on the settee and smiled up at Trinket as she placed a tray of tea things on the table before him. "I thank you, miss."

Offering him a gentle smile in return, she turned back to Booker who was sitting in the armchair, legs crossed and chin perched atop his folded hands. It was no wonder their guest was as uncomfortable as he was, what with the master of the house watching him so intently. She stationed herself beside Booker and cleared her throat, hoping to remind him to be polite.

It seemed to work. He broke his concentrated stare and gave his head a quick shake. "So where have you been staying, Mr. Sidorov?"

"At Clock House," Boris said, stirring some milk and sugar into his tea. "It is very rowdy, but I am used to such noise. I have been guesting at inns and pubs for some time now."

"Since the Baron's wolf went missing?"

He hesitated before nodding. "Yes, since then."

"Did the Baron let you go?"