what he had found beneath it, it was all as he had related to Master Magnus the previous night, while his leg was being tended to.
‘Describe this woman,’ Master Magnus instructed with sceptical interest.
‘It was not a face I had seen before,’ Quare replied. ‘Youngish, I would say.’
‘Attractive?’
‘I was too taken aback to notice.’
‘Were you? In my experience, regardless of the circumstances, the attractiveness of a young female is among the few things a young male may be depended upon to notice.’
Quare felt himself blushing. ‘The light was poor, and one side of her face was bruised and bleeding,’ he explained.
‘Did you move her? Staunch the bleeding?’
‘No, master.’
‘You did not … touch her at all?’
Quare bristled. ‘What do you mean?’
Master Magnus raised a bushy white eyebrow above the gold frames of his spectacles. ‘You would not be the first to take advantage of such an opportunity. Alone with a helpless young woman – a woman, moreover, who by her wanton actions might be said to have forfeited the protections a civilized society accords the weaker sex.’
‘Do you think I would spare a woman’s life only to violate that which is more precious than life?’
‘Fine sentiments, sir. They do you credit, I’m sure. Yet I cannot help but notice that you did not attempt to aid her. A strange sort of chivalry, that.’
‘I …’
‘No matter. Surely you questioned the woman once she had regained consciousness.’
Quare started as a cat – the same calico he had evicted earlier – leapt into his lap. He stroked the animal, grateful for the distraction. ‘Er, no. In truth, I was worried that her blade had been poisoned. You will grant, master, that poison is a woman’s weapon.’
At this, Master Magnus gave a stiff nod, as though compelled against his will to acknowledge the point.
Encouraged, Quare went on. ‘I thought it best to return the timepiece to you as quickly as possible – before the poison took effect or any accomplices came to Grimalkin’s aid. I was loath to lose the prize so soon after having won it.’
Master Magnus chuckled. ‘I do not mean to denigrate your bravery and resourcefulness, my boy. But even you must realize how unlikely – inconceivable, rather – it is that a regulator of your limited experience could take a seasoned agent like Grimalkin by surprise. No, sir, no. That alone proves – were the idea itself not absurd on its face – that the woman you overcame on the rooftop was not Grimalkin, but an imposter.’
‘An imposter! But she stole the clock from Lord Wichcote – and, by the sound of it, crossed blades with more than one adversary to do so!’
‘Pishposh. By your own testimony, you did not see what went on in that attic. For all you know, the woman was aided by an accomplished swordsman, who sacrificed his life – or at least his liberty – in order to facilitate her escape. That seems more likely, does it not, than a lone woman besting multiple swordsmen? No doubt the woman and her accomplice believed their chances of robbing Lord Wichcote would be improved if one of them dressed as the notorious Grimalkin. Such a stratagem would also enable the woman to conceal her gender beneath a mask – thus giving Lord Wichcote the mistaken impression that he was facing two men.’
‘But I saw no evidence of an accomplice!’
‘Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence.’
‘If only you had seen the speed and skill with which she moved, master. She very nearly skewered me! How do you explain that?’
‘You believed you were facing Grimalkin – and believing made it so. Preconceptions colour perceptions, my boy.’
‘What of your preconceptions, then? Because you cannot entertain the possibility of a female Grimalkin, you spin hypotheses out of whole cloth!’
‘No, sir, no,’ the master repeated, giving the floor another thump with his stick. ‘Why, it were as likely for me to dance a jig atop this desk as for Grimalkin to be a woman! Put the notion from your mind. That was not Grimalkin you fought. And a good thing, too, else you would not have survived, much less come back in triumph, bearing the prize.’
Quare was not in a mood to be mollified. ‘If not Grimalkin, then who?’
‘That is precisely the question, Mr Quare. And you may rest assured that it is a question I mean to get to the bottom of. Not just the woman’s identity – and that of her accomplice, should he be proved to exist – but