Apollo's Ghost-Hunting Daughter

Chapter 12

Kipps, it turned out, was quite an accomplished cook. We ate in his kitchen, Alastair circling underneath the table like a shark looking for its next kill, and came up with a rough plan to meet at the café down the street later in the day to exchange information and decide on the next steps. Then he called me a night cab and waited on the street corner with me in his pajamas, rapier held loosely at his side. There was no paranormal activity, but it never hurt to be cautious.

By the time I was tromping up the steps to Grimble, I'd caught the end of the night crowd who had just finished filing paperwork and reports for this evening's series of cases. The smell of ectoplasm hung heavy in the lobby and voices carried down the hall from the canteen, where an early morning meal was being served.

I skipped past this, running into Hardy in the stairwell. Or perhaps she was laying in wait. With Hardy, it was hard to tell.

"Where on earth have you been? I've been looking for you all day!" she said, grabbing my arm and giving me the once over to ensure that I was in one piece. "Are you--why do you smell so strongly of Kipps's cologne?"

She had a perceptive nose, that was for sure.

"You're not going to believe this," I said, leading her to my room.

Hardy knew more about me than most people, but she most certainly did not know about my parentage, so when I gave her the facts, I gave her the facts written in the case report. She listened with interest about the surprisingly early end of our case and started to squirm when I explained this morning's events. I thought she was going to faint when I told her about waking up on Kipps's sofa.

"You say nothing happened but are you sure nothing happened?" Hardy asked.

"How could you say that? Of course nothing happened. He was the perfect gentleman. Do you think Kane would have let me go with him if he felt otherwise?"

"I'll have to meet Kane to judge his character myself," Hardy decided.

"Figured you'd say that. I have the next few days off so I can spend them with Kane. I was planning on meeting him around eight, if you want to join us for breakfast."

"I can do eight. I'll meet you in the lobby."

"Alright, then. See you at seven thirty. We'll catch the bus over to Soho."

Hardy left and I showered before crashing again. I woke early and rank Kane to make arrangements for the day. Since my plans included showing Kane around the offices, I pulled on my lilac jacket and dressed practically, rapier at my hip, Artemis's knife on my thigh. As promised, Hardy was in the lobby, also dressed for work, although she wore considerably more makeup than I did, which wasn't uncommon. She cared about appearances. I didn't as much, especially since cobwebs had a tendency to get tangled in false eyelashes and in the dark, the effort just didn't seem worth it.

We walked to the bus stop and timed our arrival just right, catching a bus just moments later. She was pestering me with questions about yesterday and last night, and I patiently answered, although she was starting to fray my nerves.

Thankfully, she stopped talking as we approached Kane's hotel and spotted him on the street, just where he'd been yesterday when Kipps and I had walked from the other direction. He saw us and waved, moving to intercept us. I quickly made introductions.

"How about a spot of breakfast and then we can all head over to the offices? I need to debrief with my supervisor, then I'm off," I suggested.

"I am at your mercy," Kane replied. "How's the hangover?"

"Oh, it's grand," I ground out. The headache was persistent and I felt chronically dehydrated. Since waking up at Kipps's flat, I'd been guzzling tea.