“That’s more than I ever saw.”

She shrugged. “It was only fog in the night. When you’re a kid, you can turn that into the veil between the living and dead if you have your best friends spooking you into it.”

Charles Street wound around the western base of Beacon Hill, an area known as the Flat. It was the retail shopping district for the well-heeled, not so impressive an address as Briallen’s on Louisburg Square, but most Bostonians would have a hard time making the rent there, never mind owning an apartment.

“Thanks for arranging the interview. I’m surprised you wanted to come,” I said.

Keeva paused at the window of an antique store. “I was getting stir-crazy. I made macBain let me go.”

“Made him? I wasn’t aware anyone could make Dylan do anything.”

She smiled at me. “I discovered your Number One Fan hates memos. I’ve been burying him in them. I think he wanted a break.”

For a moment, it felt like old times, Keeva and I actually relaxing around each other. We did that back when we were partners. Which was not to say we let down our guards, but we could be social on occasion. On Pinckney Street, Murdock pulled up in front of the Ardman townhouse and met us at the door.

“I thought I was going to be late,” he said.

Keeva gave him a curt nod. Their polite animosity reflected the reality of their competing agencies. “Let me take it from here, gentlemen. Rosavear knows me.”

A young human-normal woman answered the doorbell. Most fey preferred other fey clans to act as servants, old habits from the days when servant was a code phrase for conquered slave. “Guild Director Keeva macNeve and guests. Lady Ardman should be expecting us,” Keeva said.

She grasped Keeva’s hand. “Sophie Wells, pleased to meet you, Director macNeve. These are the gentlemen from the police department?”

Keeva introduced us, and Wells shook hands with sincere attention before stepping back to let us in. The Ardman house was grand yet small-scale. Old movies shot on soundstages gave people the impression Boston brownstones were enormous. Most were smaller inside than the run-of-the-mill Mc-Mansions in the suburbs these days. A small foyer paved in black-and-white stone tiles opened onto a comfortable, tasteful parlor decorated in ochre and maroon.

Wells gestured to the room. “Please have a seat. I’ll let Lady Ardman know you’re here.”

Keeva and I sat on opposite ends of the couch while Murdock wandered to the window. Despite my typical experience with fey royalty, Lady Ardman appeared without the usual cooling-our-heels waiting time. She was a small woman, strongly built with a blunt attractiveness. Her long, narrow wings glowed a faint indigo, darkening to almost black at their sharp tips. Keeva had dropped the glamour hiding her wings when we entered the house, and they undulated behind her in soft gold-and-white folds. Inverni fairies tended to be smaller than their Danann cousins, but they still packed a punch in the essence department. They made no bones about reminding each other.

Keeva and I stood. I didn’t know many Inverni, so I took the opportunity to get a decent imprint of the species essence, especially after my strange experience in the alley during my run. As I shook her hand, her essence felt odd, not at all Danann but powerful in its own right. Species essence resonated similarly from person to person. She didn’t feel like my alley attacker. My attacker’s essence was a shadow of Ardman’s.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Rose, but these detectives were hoping you might help them with a case,” Keeva said as the three of us took seats. Murdock remained attentive beside an armchair.

“You’re no trouble, Keeva,” Ardman said, her smile a bright flash of white.

“It’s about the Viten case.”

And the smile disappeared. “I see. What could possibly have happened after all these years?”

I took that as my cue. “Lady Ardman, two people have been found murdered recently. They had a history with each other and the Viten case. We’re concerned their deaths might be related to it. My first question is have you noticed anything out of the ordinary lately that might concern you?”

Ardman straightened in her seat as her wings darkened. “Murder? Am I in danger?”

Keeva shot me an annoyed look. “Mr. Grey is asking as a precaution, Rose.”

She didn’t seem to believe her. “I haven’t noticed anything. Is there something I should be looking for?”

I softened my apparently insensitive tone. “I was hoping you could tell us. Our files do not show any living associates for Viten. We were wondering if your memory was different.”

“Lionel didn’t have any friends that I knew of, if that’s what you’re asking,” she said.

“Lionel?” Murdock asked.

Ardman looked at him as if she were only now realizing he was in the room. “That’s the name he used with me. I never knew him by his other names.” She paused, looking at Murdock with an uncomfortable expression. She approached him and lifted her hand to his face. “May I?”

Murdock looked down at the hand and nodded. Ardman touched his cheek. After a moment, she regained her composure and withdrew to her chair. “Have you walked the Ways, Mr. Murdock?”

Murdock glanced sharply at me. “She wants to know if you are fey,” I said.

He gave a tentative smile. “No, ma’am.”

Ardman considered him. “Are you sure? Perhaps you don’t remember. Your essence reminds me of the fey friends of old.”

Keeva cleared her throat. “Detective Murdock is human normal, Rose. He was involved in a fey event that disrupted his essence.”

Ardman looked about to say more but remained silent.

“Did you ever meet a woman named Rhonda Powell?” asked Murdock. A little out of left field, but the Powell murder obviously still bothered him.

Ardman stiffened. “It is rude to mention her to me, Detective Murdock. That affair was a private pain to me for years that I never wanted revealed. But to answer your question, no, I never met her. Lionel kept her in New York as far as I know.”

“You don’t know anyone else who might have an interest in your old case?” Murdock asked.

“Are you doubting my word, sir?” Ardman asked.

Keeva glared. “I think that’s enough, Detective Murdock. Lady Ardman has answered your question. Other than ensuring she feels safe, I believe we are finished, don’t you?”

Murdock didn’t react to her. “That’s fine. I just have one more question: Where were you last Thursday and the Tuesday before?”

The surprise on Keeva’s face made my day. Ardman laughed. “I supposed that is a polite way of asking me if I have an alibi on the days of these murders. I was here, Mr. Murdock. Both days. My staff’s loyalty does not extend to lying if you would like to verify that.”

Murdock nodded. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for your time, Rose,” said Keeva. Sophie Wells reappeared to let us out. As soon as the door closed behind us, Keeva whirled on Murdock. “That was way out of line, Detective.”

Murdock’s eyebrows went up. “What?”

“You don’t accuse royalty of murder, even if she is an Inverni,” she said.

I frowned. “Lay off, Keeva. He didn’t accuse her of anything. He was doing his job-even if she’s ‘an Inverni.’ What makes you think the Boston P.D. care whether she’s royalty or not?”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “You’re welcome for the help.” She launched herself into the sky with an angry buzz and disappeared over the roofline.

I shook my head as I watched her go. “It never lasts.”