That is why I wish to know—’
The Old Wolf overrode him. ‘You were present, I believe, at what the wits of the Worshipful Company have dubbed the Massacre of the Cats?’
Quare gave a wary nod.
‘And that unfortunate event, unless I am gravely misinformed, had something to do with an unusual timepiece, a pocket watch – this pocket watch, in fact.’ At which, with a triumphant flourish, he pulled from beneath the desk the silver-cased hunter that was at the centre of all that had occurred.
So, Quare thought with a sinking heart, despite all the efforts of Master Magnus to keep the watch out of his rival’s hands, Grandmaster Wolfe had ended up with it anyway. And now, he realized further, his own role in deceiving the grandmaster must come to light. He did not know what the repercussions would be, but he did not doubt they would be severe. This was not the time to mourn his master. Nor to solve the mystery of his death. His own life might well be hanging in the balance. He must weigh every word with the utmost care.
‘Well, Mr Quare? Do you recognize this watch? It was found in Master Magnus’s hand, clutched so tightly in death that, I regret to say, his fingers had to be broken in order to extract it.’
‘I …’ How much should he admit to? How much did the Old Wolf already know? ‘I may have seen it before …’
‘Do not fence with me, sir,’ barked Grandmaster Wolfe. ‘This is the very timepiece that you took from Grimalkin, is it not? The timepiece that originally belonged to Lord Wichcote?’
Quare sighed; it seemed he had no choice now but to reveal the truth – or, at least, that portion of the truth which was known to him. ‘Yes, though I didn’t realize it at the time. That timepiece – the one you are holding, I mean – was hidden within the one I took from Grimalkin. Or so Master Magnus told me.’ He judged it best to say nothing yet of Grimalkin’s gender.
‘And what of the clock you brought to me, sir?’
‘Master Magnus gave it to me.’
‘And the story that went with it?’
‘Master Magnus provided that as well.’
‘I see. Both were counterfeit, then. I will hear the true story of what took place on that night from you, Mr Quare. But first, you will explain to me why Master Magnus took such extraordinary precautions to keep this watch from me. For I have examined it, and in truth I find it baffling. It seems no more than a model, a toy. Exquisitely crafted, to be sure. But useless as a means of telling time. Yet it was coveted by Lord Wichcote, Grimalkin, and Master Magnus – three men uncommonly well versed in the horological arts, whatever else one may say about them. The French, too, desired it, and dispatched Mr Aylesford to acquire it for them, by hook or by crook. Shall I tell you what I believe? If this hunter does not tell the time, then it must perform some other function – and somehow that function must be related to the Massacre of the Cats. It is, in short, despite its appearance, a weapon of some kind. A weapon with the potential to win the war for whichever side possesses it – for what may kill a cat may kill a man as well. Have I struck close to the mark, sir?’
‘I do not know,’ Quare answered. ‘I cannot explain the purpose of that watch. I do not know the secret of its functioning. If Master Magnus knew these things, he did not share them with me.’
‘You would do well to reconsider your loyalty to that man,’ said the Old Wolf, frowning. ‘He cannot protect you any longer – you must shift for yourself now, sir. Master Magnus had a duty to turn over this timepiece to me immediately. Yet he did not. What am I to think of that? What is Mr Pitt to think of it?’ He held up a hand to forestall any response. ‘Now you come to me with news of a French spy in our midst – Thomas Aylesford, to be precise. A man who is implicated in the murders of three journeymen of this guild, as well as in the deaths of some young noblemen who had the misfortune to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. You yourself are wanted for questioning in the matter of these killings.