“Damnation.” Dominic grimaced, winced, and then touched his jaw. “I assure you, it was not Pierce who was responsible for this.”

“Certainly not.” Anthony reddened. “Devil take it, the man’s a hairdresser!

“And also a professional murderer, if Mr. March and Aunt Lavinia are correct in their conclusions,” Emeline pointed out. “But if it was not Mr. Pierce who did this to you two, who was it?”

Anthony exchanged an unreadable glance with Dominic. Then he shrugged.

“It was quite dark in the street outside Pierce’s lodgings last night,” he said. “I accidentally collided with the edge of a stone doorway.”

“I see,” Emeline said. “Doorways can be extremely hazardous.”

Priscilla gave Dominic a searching look. “And you, sir? Did you suffer a similar misfortune?”

“Stumbled on the step,” Dominic muttered. “Struck the railing.”

Shortly before midnight that evening, Anthony opened the sack of pies he had purchased just before nightfall and took out one of the two remaining meat pies. He offered the sack to Dominic, who lounged against the opposite wall of the narrow alley.

Dominic helped himself to the last pie.

“Tomorrow night I will purchase a larger number,” Anthony promised around a moutheul of leaden pastry.

“It is our own fault that we ran out so quickly,” Dominic reminded him. “In hindsight, we probably should not have given half of our supply to that pair of urchins who chose to spend the night in the doorway of the button-and-ribbon shop.”

Anthony thought about the two youngsters they had met earlier that evening. The boys had been no more than eight or nine years of age, cheerfully brash and impudent and imbued with a streetwise knowledge that would have better suited men of twenty. They had also looked very hungry. Neither he nor Dominic had been able to resist giving them some of their pies. The pair had been delighted and had sped off with their treasures to settle into their doorway at the far end of the street.

“On second thought, maybe I can persuade Whitby to make us a batch,” Anthony said. “I’ll also ask him for some more of that cold salmon and chicken he provided for us this afternoon.”

“An excellent notion. Tell him to double the amount this time in case those two youngsters are in that doorway again tomorrow night.” Dominic munched his pie. “But it may not be necessary. From the sound of it, this business probably won’t continue much longer.

“March seems very sure that Pierce will make a move soon. He says the hairdresser is not only arrogant, he is consumed with a need to prove that he is as good as the last Memento-Mori Man.”

Time passed. Out in the street, the slant of moonlight shifted slowly. Aside from the odd carriage or cart, nothing moved. The light in Pierce’s window had gone out half an hour ago. He appeared to have retired to his bed.

“Did it strike you that there was something different about Emeline and Priscilla this afternoon?” Anthony stretched his arms high overhead to relieve the stiffness.

“Different?” Dominic pondered the question for a moment. “I hadn’t thought about it. Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. Just seemed that they were both in particularly fine looks today.”

“They are always in fine looks.”

“Very true.”

There was another lengthy silence.

“I think Priscilla is attracted to you,” Anthony offered after a while.

“She is attracted to the contents of my laboratory, not to me.”

Dominic sounded glum.

“Don’t be so certain of that. The two of you do have a great deal in common.”

“Huh.”

“You find her pretty. It was never Emeline who interested you, admit it. The only reason you flirted with her was to get at me.”

“Dominic shrugged. The movement of his shoulders was barely visible in the shadows. You’re in love with Miss Emeline, are you not?”

“Yes. Her aunt wants us to wait to announce our engagement, but Emeline and I have other plans. First I have to convince Tobias to marry Mrs. Lake and move into Number Seven Claremont Lane.”

“So that you and Miss Emeline can take over his house?” Dominic sounded intrigued. “A very clever notion. Do you think he will agree?”

“I’m having some difficulty convincing him of the wisdom of my plan, but I have every hope of success.” Something flickered at the mouth of the alley across the street. “Did you see that?”

“What?”

“I think there’s someone standing in the entrance to the alley that leads to the rear of Pierce’s lodgings.”

The figure moved, slipping cautiously out of the deep pool of darkness into the moonlight.

“Dominic straightened swiftly. Yes, I see him. Make that, her. It’s a woman in a cloak.”

“I’ll wager it’s Pierce in his female attire,” Anthony whispered.

“You’re right.” Dominic kept his voice equally low and soft. “Don’t move. We must not let him see us.”

The cloaked figure drifted swiftly down the street. Pierce did not carry a lantern, apparently content to rely on the bright moon.

There was an eerie lack of sound about his movements.

“Like a ghost in the night,” Dominic whispered.

The old bawd took another long swallow of gin and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She squinted at Tobias across the planked table and cackled wetly.

“They called me Mother Maud in those days,” she said. “Made a nice living selling the babes and young ones, I did. Ye’d be surprised how much of a market there is for a healthy little boy or girl. All types of folk, high and low, came to buy my wares.”

The woman gave him a cold chill in his vitals, but Tobias did not allow his revulsion to show in his expression. The tavern, tucked away in the bowels of one of the worst neighborhoods in the city, was a dark, smoky hell. It made the Gryphon look like an exclusive gentleman’s club.

Mother Maud stopped talking and waited expectantly.

He put a few more coins on the table. Next to them he placed the memento-mori ring that he had found in Fullerton’s bed chamber at Beaumont Castle. The little gold coffin glinted evilly in the candlelight.

“Smiling Jack told me there’s a rumor that several years ago you sold two small boys to a man who wore a ring similar to this.” He opened the coffin.

Mother Maud stared at the tiny death’s-head for a long time.

Then she switched her attention to the little pile of coins. Her uneasiness was plain to read in her face.

He added another coin to the heap.

“Aye.” Mother Maud drank some more gin, as though to steady her nerve. “I did some business with a man who wore a death’s-head ring.”

“Tell me about the business.”

“He was different from my usual clients,” Maud said at last.

“In what way?”

“Most of em what purchased the children set em to work. They trained the boys to pick pockets or steal or beg or climb the chimneys. The girls went into the brothels or were put out on the streets to earn their keep.” She raised one bony shoulder and let it drop.

“There were some who purchased the little ones for reasons that I did not want to know.”

If some of the children had been used in ways that gave even Mother Maud a few qualms, Tobias thought, he’d rather not know about them either. But he had to get the truth tonight.

“The man who wore the ring,” he said. “Why do you think that he wanted to obtain two young boys?”

Maud took another swig of gin and set down the bottle. Her rheumy eyes glinted malevolently. “He said he was a man of business but he had no sons to take over the firm. He told me that he wanted to take on some apprentices. Teach em his trade.” She squinted. “But if all that was true, he could have got what he wanted from a proper orphanage, eh?”

“Instead, he came to you.”

“Aye, that he did. He paid Mother Maud handsomely, he did. And I gave him value for his money, I did. Two healthy lads in prime condition. Both smart as whips. Brothers, they were. One was about eight years of age. The other was four or five, I think.”