Unhallowed (Rath and Rune #1) - Jordan L. Hawk Page 0,14
then, and I’ve yet to hear of a hauling company that works those hours. But the bigger of the two told me to mind my own business if I didn’t want a smack.”
“He threatened a pregnant woman?”
“Can you believe it?” She grinned suddenly. “So I made a sign as soon as his back was turned, and he dropped a box on his foot before he made it out the front door.” Her smile faded. “I asked the landlady the next morning about it, and she said all she knew was that Mr. O’Neil had paid his rent for the month and anything else was none of her concern.”
“I see.” Sebastian didn’t like the sound of any of this. “And you had no warning he was moving out?”
“None at all. I’d last seen him that very morning, in fact. We spoke about the Daylight Comet, so you’d think he would have mentioned leaving if he intended it.” She shrugged. “Sorry I can’t tell you more.”
“You’ve been very helpful,” he assured her. “Thank you for your time, Mrs. Pickman.” He took out his card and handed it to her. “If anything else of interest occurs to you, please telephone or send word to me at the Ladysmith.”
Once back out on the street, Sebastian walked slowly toward the trolley stop, his hands tucked into his pockets. The sun lingered in the west, and the air smelled of coal smoke, fish, and the ocean. Technically, nothing Mrs. Pickman had told him was absolute proof that Kelly hadn’t left of his own volition. His rent had been paid, his furniture removed, and his letter of resignation mailed. One could easily argue that everything Sebastian had learned was in fact evidence Kelly left of his own accord, even if he’d done so rather abruptly.
It was the abruptness that made no sense. Arthur said Kelly had spoken to him about leaving—but why hadn’t he said anything to Sebastian? And why wouldn’t he mention his departure to his neighbor?
Of course it was possible that Kelly had decided to leave between speaking to Mrs. Pickman in the morning and the time the movers took his things that night. Possible, but not plausible. Kelly had been careful, meticulous. He was a planner, not someone given to sudden whims. It was what had made him good at his job.
Sebastian tightened his jaw. He was more certain now than ever that something bad had happened to Kelly. And, since it seemed no one else intended to help, it was up to him to find out what.
Chapter 6
Early next morning, Ves walked to a café near the museum. Halley’s Comet burned in the dawn sky like a distant, angry eye. Strange to think that something so far away could influence the arcane workings of the earth.
As he walked, he pondered what Mr. Rath had said about the former binder—O’Neil, wasn’t it?—who he seemed to think had disappeared. It was quite possible the fellow had simply gotten fed up with his life and job, abandoned his post, and moved away. Or he might have stolen something.
O’Neil wouldn’t be the first to commit such a crime. While Ves was at the library in Boston, one of the librarians had been caught smuggling a rare first edition out beneath his coat. When police went to his apartment, they’d found it full of other volumes the man had taken, awaiting a contact from the New York book trade to come fetch them. In the end, the librarian had confessed to stealing hundreds of valuable books over the last five years.
Perhaps O’Neil had taken a book whose absence would be noticed sooner rather than later, and had left town with it accordingly. Maybe Rath knew, or suspected, or was even in on the scheme. It would explain why the archivist seemed so disgruntled with Ves coming in as a replacement. He didn’t want to risk inviting a stranger to join him in stealing from their employer.
There was one other possibility, of course. Fagerlie wanted a man inside the Ladysmith Library. And not just any man; one who would be motivated to do whatever Fagerlie wanted, without asking too many questions himself. Ves was a binder and conservator, so that was the position the library would need to fill.
Surely he was just being paranoid. The rare book trade was often cut-throat in the metaphorical sense, but not the literal. Though Fagerlie was a sorcerer; clearly he wanted access to some awful tome that resided deep within the Ladysmith.