Where? he mouthed to Wayne. Where did you find it?
Wayne just nodded to the guests, who were looking right at Waxillium.
“Are you quite all right, Lord Ladrian?” Steris asked. “I know a good zinc counselor if you have need of some emotional aid.”
“Er … no. Thank you. I am quite all right, and I think this has been a very productive meeting. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“That depends,” she said, rising, apparently taking that as an invitation to end the conversation. “The wedding party is on the morrow, I believe. I can count on you having reviewed the contract by then?”
“You can,” Waxillium said, rising as well.
“I think this meeting was wonderful,” Wayne said as he stood. “You’re just what my nephew needs, Lady Steris! A firm hand. None of this rabble-rousing he’s been used to.”
“I agree!” Lord Harms said. “Lord Ladrian, perhaps your uncle can attend the dinner—”
“No,” Waxillium said quickly before Wayne could say anything. “No, unfortunately, he has to return to his estates. Told me just earlier. He has a very important foaling to attend.”
“Oh, well then,” Lord Harms said, helping Marasi to her feet. “We will send you word of confirmation once we have accepted the Yomen invitation.”
“And I will do likewise,” Waxillium said, escorting them to the door of the room. “Farewell until then.” Tillaume bowed to them there, then escorted them out. Their departure felt rushed to Waxillium, but he was relieved to see them go. Considering Wayne’s sudden intrusion, that had actually gone pretty well. Nobody had ended up trying to shoot him.
“Nice bunch,” Wayne said. “I now see what you’re doing. With a wife and in-laws like those, you’ll feel quite at home here—just like the jailhouse and its occupants back in Weathering!”
“Very nice,” Waxillium said under his breath, waving one last time as the Harms family walked out the mansion doors. “Where did you get the bullet?”
“It was dropped at the theater robbery. Traded the constables for it this morning.”
Waxillium closed his eyes. Wayne had a very liberal interpretation of what “trading” entailed.
“Oh, don’t get that way,” Wayne said. “I left them a nice cobblestone for it. I think Steris and her pop are convinced you’re a loon, by the way.” He grinned.
“That’s nothing new. My association with you has been convincing people I’m insane for years now.”
“Ha! And here I thought you’d lost your sense of humor.” Wayne walked back into the room. He slid his pencil out of his pocket as he passed a table, trading it for one of Waxillium’s pens.
“My humor isn’t lost, Wayne,” Waxillium said, “just strained. What I told you is true, and this bullet doesn’t change anything.”
“Maybe it doesn’t,” Wayne said, retrieving his hat, duster, and dueling canes. “But I’m still gonna see what I can find.”
“It’s not your job.”
“And it wasn’t your job to start hunting down criminals out in the Roughs. Doesn’t change what needs to be done, mate.” Wayne walked up to Waxillium, then handed him the hat. Once Waxillium took it, Wayne threw on his coat.
“Wayne…”
“People are being taken, Wax,” he said, taking back his hat and putting it on. “Four hostages so far. None returned. Stealing jewelry is one thing. Taking food from Roughs towns is another. Kidnapping people … well, there’s something goin’ on here. I’m gonna find out what it is. With or without you.”
“Without me.”
“Fine.” He hesitated. “But I need something, Wax. A place to look. You always did the thinking.”
“Yes, having a brain helps with that, surprisingly.”
Wayne narrowed his eyes at him. Then he raised his eyebrows, pleadingly.
“All right,” Waxillium said, sighing and fetching his teacup. “How many robberies now?”
“Eight. Seven railway cars and, most recently, the theater.”