sir?”
“Douglas Clark, at your service.” He didn’t bother to
get up or bow. “You can leave her, Chief.”
Doyle removed my manacles. “Keep your chin up.”
“Always.” I watched him go before I sat down beside
my aid-solicitor. “I’m not lying, sir. Th e charges being
brought against me are utter nonsense.”
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“Th ey always are, dearie.” He turned to me. “You’re
young, which will help, although you can’t claim
ignorance of the law. Th at always sets hissonor’s wig
on end. Someone coerce you to wave your wand in the
wrong place? Your da, maybe?”
“I’m an orphan.”
“Th at’s too bad. Got a teller off last month for having
a home seeing by blaming her brother for not paying
their rent. And her without a proper license at all.” Clark
studied my face. “What sort of magic you practice?”
“None.”
He shook his head. “Can’t go in denying your
business, miss. Th ey wouldn’t fi le charges without hard
evidence.”
“Th ey have none. I’ve never practiced magic.”
He turned back to the papers and scrabbled through
them, his frown deepening with every page he turned.
“No witnesses, no confi scations, no testimonies. Th at
can’t be right. Hang on, here it is.” He pulled out a paper
and held it up. “His lordship charges that the defendant
bespelled her physical residence to protect the occupants
and repel intruders.”
“I did nothing of the kind,” I assured him.
He nodded absently. “Th ey’ve listed some enchanted
objects that were found openly displayed on the exterior
of your residence.”
“Seven wardlings, nailed above my entry,” I said. “Put
there by a police warder, not me.”
“Th e cops?” He glanced up, completely perplexed.
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“Why’d they want to ward your place, then?”
I detailed the attack on me by the snuff mages as well
as my subsequent detainment and drugging at Rumsen
Main. “I did not fashion or display the wardlings.
Th ere is no other magic item on the premises or in my
possession.” I almost reached for my pendant before I
thought better of it. “Nor have I uttered a single spell.”
“Hang on.” He dug down to the very last page of the
charge statement, and after reading it sat back in his
chair. “Th e charges are being brought by Lord Nolan
Walsh. Himself’s one of them bankers downtown what’s
got more money than H.M. What in sweet Mary’s name
did you do to bring his wrath down on your head, gel?”
So Walsh, not Dredmore. An invisible burden lifted from my shoulders, not that I welcomed the tiny surge of
relief that came with it. “I’m working for Lord Walsh’s
wife, Lady Diana. Someone inside his household has
been—”
“No.” Clark held up his hand. “Don’t tell me any
more. I can’t have knowledge of that and stand for you.”
He studied the statement a second time. “Th is police
warder, will she bear witness that she was the one that
put up the protection at your home?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you’ve never read so much as a tea leaf in your
kitchen?” When I shook my head, he gathered up his
papers and stuff ed them in his case. “Th is is how it will
go, then. I’ll refute the charges, have you repeat the
statements you’ve made to me to the magis—and only
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about the coppers warding your place, if you please—and
then we’ll see just how much money the banker spent on
this.”
“Do you think he bribed offi cers of the court?”
“To bring you up on charges, probably several of
them.” Clark regarded me steadily. “But it’s your lucky
day, my lass. He didn’t think to bribe me. ”
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Chapter Three
Clark and I were summoned before