The Experimental Murders (Elysium #2)

Chapter Twenty-Nine

 The weather was warmer that night than it had been of late, but there was still a pervading chill in the air as they made their way to the Clocktower. Daphne hadn't batted an eye when Booker informed her that they would be going out and were not sure at what hour they would return. She simply bid them farewell with a smile and a wave and returned to tidying the kitchen.

"Do you think this could be a trap?" Trinket asked as they neared the alehouse.

"Why would it be a trap? And who would be setting said trap?" asked Booker.

"That girl seemed awfully nervous. What if the Mice are using her to lure you in?"

He shot her a skeptical look. "In the middle of the Clocktower? I would hope they're smart enough not to accost me in a public place where I am well-known and well-loved."

"Well-loved?"

"Fine, well-known. I agree that she was unusually jumpy, but I think perhaps it's due to the sensitivity of her information. Trafficking and dead bodies are not subjects one typically speaks of in polite company."

Though Trinket was still uncertain, she nodded and followed him into the Clocktower.

Even at midnight, the alehouse had a plethora of customers, all of them drunk and lecherous. Night flowers used the men's intoxication to their advantage, charging higher than usual prices in the hopes that they'd be desperate enough to not give the expense a second thought. Booker kept a firm hold on her arm as he led her to a table where they could have a good view of the room.

"Do you see her?" he asked as he took his seat.

She looked around, but there was no sign of her. "No. Are we early?"

"Not really. I'm sure—"

Someone slipped out of the crowd and pulled a chair over to their table. Though her head was down and her hair was tucked under a large top hat, Trinket saw that distinctive scar and knew this was the same girl.

"I apologize for my secretive behavior," she whispered.

"Somebody have a price on your head?" Booker asked, looking her up and down.

"Not exactly. It's just that you're not the only ones searching for this information."

Booker leaned forward. "Who else is interested in it?"

The girl's gaze wavered slightly, as if she were resisting the urge to glance about the room. "Bad men."

"And you think I am not a bad man?"

There was a glint in his eyes. He was back to his old self.

"Not as bad as them," she said. "Besides, you helped someone dear to me."

"Did I?"

"She goes on and on about what a lovely doctor you are."

"She's one of my patients? Who?"

"For her safety and mine, I can't give you that information. But because of her, I've decided to tell you what I know about a certain subject I think will be of interest to you."

Booker motioned for her to go on.

"First, the trafficking. There's no trafficking here in Tinkerfall. At least not with regard to night flowers."

"How do you know?"

"I may or may not have been involved with it in a nearby town."

Trinket's gaze strayed to the girl's scar. "You're a night flower?" she asked.