Page 72 of Who Cries for the Lost

“Astrid thought Sibil had him killed.”

Hero said, “Why would she think that?”

“Because he came to see Sibil that night.”

“You mean Saturday? The night he was killed?” said Sebastian.

Rowena nodded. “They had a big row. He accused her of tricking him—of using him. She doesn’t really see stuff, you know. She likes to think she does, but the truth is, most of what she claims to ‘see’ really comes from information she gets from people’s servants and the like. Or else she coaxes it out of her customers while she’s doing a reading for them, but she does it so clever-like that they don’t realize what she’s done.”

“I did rather suspect that,” said Sebastian.

Rowena sniffed.

Hero said, “Did Sedgewick threaten her?”

Rowena nodded, her eyes wide. “Sibil, she told him to be careful, that he didn’t know who he was dealing with. But he said he now knew precisely who he was dealing with.”

“Did he say how or where he learned what she was really doing?” asked Sebastian.

“I don’t know—I didn’t catch everything they were saying. But Astrid did—she had really good hearing, you see; much better than mine.”

“She confronted Sibil about what she’d heard?”

Rowena nodded. “Yesterday.”

“And what did Sibil do?”

“She told her she’d kill her if she even thought about betraying her.”

Sebastian and Hero exchanged glances.

“She does that, you know,” said Rowena. “Kills people, I mean. Well, she doesn’t do it herself, but she’s got somebody who does it for her.”

“Do you know who he is?”

Rowena took a step back, her nostrils flaring wide with fear as she shook her head from side to side.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me the truth,” said Sebastian, his voice hard. “Who is he?”

“I don’t know!”

“Sibil spies for the Bourbons, doesn’t she?” Hero said quietly.

Rowena hesitated a moment, then gave a quick nod, her lips pressed tightly together.

“And this man she knows, he does the Bourbons’ killing?”

She nodded again. “Sibil calls him ‘Gabriel,’ but I don’t think that’s his real name.”

“What does he look like?”

“I don’t know exactly. I’ve caught glimpses of him a few times, but he never looks the same. For a while there I thought he must be two or maybe even three different men. But then I realized it’s all the same person; he’s just really good at makin’ himself look different. Sometimes he looks like a Bond Street beau, but other times you’d think he was a costermonger.”

“Is he English, or French?”

“I don’t even know that. Sometimes he sounds like one, sometimes he sounds like the other. And there was one time you’d have sworn he was German, listenin’ to him. I reckon maybe he used to be an actor.”

Either an actor, thought Sebastian, or someone with experience adopting disguises.

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