Chapter Fourteen

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 "Gin! Gin!" Trinket called out as soon as she entered the slums.

A small urchin girl with sandy hair appeared from one of the alleys. "Gin's off playing cards," she said.

"Please, go get her, tell her Booker needs her help immediately."

The little girl nodded, and before she could even turn to leave, Trinket was off running once again. She made it to the front door of the house and fumbled for her key. Hurrying inside, she sat on the stairs and laid her head in her hands, trying to catch her breath and make sense of what had just happened.

Booker got arrested.

By the police. The actual police.

Although she often wondered about his ability to evade the authorities for so long, she was still shocked that they had finally come for him. How was he going to talk his way out of this one?

But as her heart rate began to slow, she remembered the note. Pulling it out of her pocket, she reexamined the words. While the handwriting was Booker's normal messy script, it did not appear to have been written in a rush. And she hadn't seen him pen it at any point during the night. So he must have had it ready before they went out to dinner.

Which meant he had planned this.

Though this gave her some relief, it also infuriated her that he sprung this on her without any warning whatsoever. Even a slight hint at what he had in store would have been appreciated.

The bell rang, and she jumped to her feet to answer the door. Gin stood there, slightly out of breath and leaning against the door frame. "Booker needs me?" she asked.

Nodding, Trinket motioned for her to come inside. "Yes, thank you for coming so quickly."

She closed the door and turned to Gin who was looking about confused. "Where is he?" she asked.

Fiddling with Booker's note, Trinket took a deep breath. "He's been arrested."

Gin's eyes went wide, and she rushed to the door.

"No, no, Gin, listen," Trinket said as she caught the urchin around the waist.

"Let me go, I have to help him!" Gin said as she struggled against her.

"Gin, he planned this."

The girl settled down a bit, but her eyes were still wild. "What do you mean? Why would he want to get arrested? What's going on?"

"He slipped this note into my pocket right before they took him," Trinket explained, holding up the paper. "It said to find you and get rid of 'it.'"

"'It'?"

"The body. He said earlier tonight that he had figured out a way to dispose of it without arousing suspicion, and apparently this was what he meant."

Leaning against the stair railing, Gin pulled at her tangled braid. "So while he has most of the police distracted, he wants us to dump the body."

"Yes, I believe so."

Gin nodded, but the unease in her expression remained. "All right, so how are we gonna do this?"

Trinket stuffed the note back in her pocket. "I'm not sure. I know she's downstairs, but the last time I saw her, her organs were all outside of her body."

Gin wrinkled her nose. "Then how are we gonna move it?"

Drumming her fingers on the door, Trinket tried to think. Maybe Booker left more instructions for them in his desk or by the body.

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