The Vampire of Tinkerfall (Elysium #3)

Chapter Eleven

 As the morning wore on, the blood began to dry. Trinket and Booker changed into more presentable clothing and retired to the parlour where they sipped at tea and dined on crumpets and jam. Daphne joined them after some insistence from them both, and together they discussed the autopsy.

"I'm assuming the poison was injected through the bite," Booker said as he traced the rim of his cup.

Trinket leaned back on the settee beside him. "But you have no idea what kind of poison it was?"

He shook his head. "I pored over every toxicology book I could find, but there was no mention of anything that would make a person bleed internally. Well, at least not as badly as the old man did."

Daphne sat up in the armchair and started picking at the air with her fingers. She then mimed placing something into her tea and twirled her hand over the cup.

"True, maybe it was an original mixture," Trinket translated.

"Perhaps," Booker murmured. He sighed and placed his cup on the table. "I could really use Frieda's expertise right now."

At the mention of his old friend, a thought occurred. "You don't think she's involved, do you?"

He turned to her. "What do you mean?"

"Is it possible she and Benedict have teamed up in this game? You were all friends in the past, and it would certainly explain the poisoning."

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "No, if Frieda were involved, she would have made herself known already. Subtlety is not her method of operation."

Daphne tapped her neck with two fingers and shrugged, knitting her brows together.

It took a moment for Trinket to decipher her gestures. "How is the vampire injecting the poison?" she tried.

Nodding, Daphne turned her expectant gaze to Booker.

He hesitated and pursed his lips. "Honestly, I'm not sure. Perhaps she has some sort of needled syringes embedded into her jaw?"

"That sounds horrible."

"Although, the puncture wounds were rather large for needles."

"They could have been like the ones you use to draw blood from corpses."

Booker's eyebrows lifted. "Yes, that's certainly a possibility."

As they all sat in silent contemplation, the bell began to ring. Daphne set her tea aside and went to answer it. Booker leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees as he stared at the fireplace.

"If only the old man had gotten a better look at his attacker," he said. "Then we could be putting forth more effort into finding Benedict's latest creation rather than playing this guessing game."

Daphne returned with Gin by her side. Both Trinket and Booker rose to their feet at the sight of the urchin. The young girl never appeared without some interesting tidbit.

"What news, Gin?" Booker asked.

She frowned slightly. "Well, I don't know if it's news exactly, but there's a whole lot of commotion down at the market."

Booker's eyes lit up. "Another body?"

"Booker," Trinket scolded, and he instantly wiped the glee from his expression.

"No, not a body," Gin said. "It'd be easier if you just came and saw for yourself."

~

Chaos. Utter chaos.

It was the only way to describe what was happening in the market.

"Strings of garlic! Only five pence apiece!"