The Numbered Corpses (Elysium #4)

Chapter Six

Booker's attempts to rest must have succeeded, as he was in a far better mood when he joined Trinket and Daphne for dinner. Praying nothing would happen to change his state of mind, Trinket did everything she could to keep him positive and hopeful.

"Even if nothing happens tonight, we can at least cross off 'time' as a potential meaning for the number," he said as he and Trinket made their way through the center after dinner.

The Clocktower loomed ominously in the distance, its dirty windows glowing from the lamplight within. The raucous laughter and drunken singing could be heard even from afar, a slurred melody of debauchery and misconduct attempting to lure them inside like a siren.

"What will we move on to next?" Trinket asked.

"There may be no addresses that go quite that high, but perhaps you were on to something with regard to apartment buildings."

"What about the idea the serving girl suggested this morning? About a coded message?"

"Benedict and I didn't dabble in that sort of entertainment. We preferred medicine and surgery."

Trinket wasn't sure she'd call that entertainment, but she didn't mention that as they entered the alehouse.

The Clocktower tended to be much livelier in the late evening hours. Granted, no matter what time of day it was, there were always plenty of drunks stumbling through the door. But at night, the grimy establishment truly came to life.

Again, they took a seat in the center of the room where they could observe the chaos from all sides. Trinket was relieved to find there was no reptile of any sort draped around the serving girl's neck when she approached.

"Can I get you anything to eat or drink?" the girl asked. She glanced between them and added, "Or are you here for a room?"

Determined not to blush or react as she had with Grace, Trinket looked to Booker and raised an eyebrow. "Well, Mr. Larkin?"

He laughed softly and turned to the serving girl. "As tempting an offer as that is, I'm afraid we've come to bask in the merrymaking your good alehouse is known for. Along with that, we'd like two cups of tea and some cold meats."

The young girl nodded and disappeared into the kitchen.

"Is a dead body really more appealing than a night with me, Mr. Larkin?" Trinket asked, feeling a blush creep up her neck.

Leaning forward, Booker tried to keep a smile at bay but failed miserably. "Your time spent with our night flower friend appears to have emboldened you, my dear."

Trinket scanned the room nonchalantly. "All right, so the numbers aren't a code, but they could be an apartment address. Anything else?" she asked.

Tapping his fingers against his lips, Booker let out a contemplative hum. "Like I said, it was mostly medicine and surgery with us. All we cared about was science."

"And frogs and cats?"

An obnoxious laugh erupted from a few tables down. Trinket's heart sank when she glanced over and discovered Viper sitting at a large table with several of his Mice. There was a rather frail woman in his lap who winced as he tightened his grip on her tiny waist. Remembering what Grace had told her about the Mouse's sadistic love-making, Trinket had the sudden urge to free the woman from his grasp. But there was no way she was going to confront the leader of the most notorious gang for miles around, especially not when he was drunk.

"Lord, I hope Scales isn't nearby," said the serving girl as she returned with their food and tea. "Last time he and that fella crossed paths, we had to replace two tables."