The Seat of Magic (32 page)

“With
Lady
Carvalho?” Oriana asked.

“That's what it says.” Duilio wondered if there could be some link between the “delicate matter” to be discussed and the blackmail Oriana had mentioned last night. He could see Oriana was wondering the same. “I suppose we'll find out what this is about at eleven.”

*   *   *

L
ady Carvalho didn't refuse to see his mother, but sent down word she wasn't yet prepared to receive visitors, so the butler led them to the front sitting room to wait. Not only were the three of them waiting there, but Anjos and Gaspar had met them at the Carvalho house as well.

The front sitting room of the Carvalho house wasn't as garishly decorated as the library, but featured the same clashing colors, this time coral and pink floral upholstery that must surely be driving his tasteful mother to distraction. Then again, Lady Carvalho was her friend, and she was usually tolerant of the woman's foibles. Oriana and his mother sat on one of the loud couches, talking together,
possibly plotting the details of the upcoming wedding, although from his mother's serious expression, Duilio doubted that. Perhaps they'd moved on to Miss Carvalho's blackmailer instead.

Gaspar came to stand near him, giving Duilio a chance to survey the Cabo Verdean inspector. The infante had told him that Gaspar was married to the Lady, but neither of them had ever mentioned that interesting fact. Duilio guessed they'd kept it secret because the inspector was
mestiço
—half African and half Portuguese. His marriage to a Portuguese lady, while it wouldn't be too sensational back in Cabo Verde or even down in Lisboa, would likely cause gossip in more conservative Northern Portugal. And while Duilio might be a half-breed himself, it wasn't the same. Selkie blood wasn't visible in the way that African blood was. He suspected Gaspar had to endure discrimination on occasion . . . or perhaps more than occasionally.

Gaspar returned his regard, one dark brow lifting speculatively. “So I see that you and Miss Paredes . . .”

His words trailed off, but Duilio had no doubt what the man was intimating. He felt a flush creep up his cheeks. While the infante seemed to enjoy confusing him, Gaspar preferred to shock. “Can you actually
see
that?”

Gaspar folded his arms over his chest and leaned one shoulder against the wall. “Yes. One of the more amusing aspects of my talent. There's a visual tie left behind that I perceive, although it's difficult to describe.”

Now
that
would take some serious contemplation. There was a tie created when two people became lovers? “My brother must have been in the center of a web at all times.”

“Some people are like that,” Gaspar said. “I tend to keep my distance. They're often catastrophes waiting to happen.”

What must it be like to know everything about every person he meets?
Duilio guessed that was why he perceived Gaspar as old,
even though the man was only five years his senior. He shook his head. “Did Anjos tell you the healer Dr. Teixeira saw all those years ago was a Jesuit?”

“Yes, although it's more pertinent that he's
male
,” Gaspar said. “Male healers are fairly rare. I believe this solves a mystery I've been pondering since the first time I visited this house.”

Duilio regarded him with a furrowed brow. He hadn't made the connection before, but he had an idea now why they were at the Carvalho house. Lady Carvalho's appearance at the doorway prevented him from asking Gaspar for clarification.

Lady Carvalho was the daughter of a noble family and near fifty like his own mother, but she hadn't aged as well. The yellow morning dress she wore made her seem washed out. Even so, she was a kind woman who'd always invited his mother to their family events despite the fact that his mother and father lacked noble pedigrees, and Duilio had always liked the woman better than her blustering husband. Lady Carvalho surveyed the inhabitants of her sitting room, wringing her hands together as if she were regarding her executioners. Then her quivering chin firmed. She entered the sitting room and ordered the butler to shut the door behind her.

His mother rose and crossed to Lady Carvalho's side. She took her friend's hand and drew her toward the sofa where she had been sitting with Oriana. “These gentlemen have come to talk to you, Luiza. It's a police inquiry, but I promise they'll be discreet.”

Lady Carvalho sank down on the end of the sofa. “This is about Genoveva, I suppose.”

Anjos came around the end of the sofa and sat in one of the chairs, several feet from the lady. “Indirectly, my lady,” he said in a kind voice.

“I suppose he told you.” Lady Carvalho's voice sounded dismayed. “He's been threatening to do so.”

Yes, this was definitely about Genoveva Carvalho's blackmailer.

“He hasn't,” Anjos said. “Inspector Gaspar has a special gift,
one that allows him to see what gifts others possess. We've always known that Miss Genoveva is a healer, even though she seems unaware of it. As your husband isn't a healer, nor are you, that tells us your daughter is either adopted or had a different father.”

Lady Carvalho pressed her hands together in her lap, knuckles white. “The second.”

“Would he have been a Jesuit novice then?”

She shot a nervous glance at Duilio's mother.

She laid a hand over her friend's. “Luiza, I bore a child before I was married, so don't concern yourself about my opinion. No one needs to know about this.”

“He's been threatening to reveal her if I don't send her to him to”—Lady Carvalho sniffed and tugged a handkerchief out of her sleeve—“to study his art. I don't want her around him, but he's going to ruin her reputation if we don't give in.” She sniffed into her handkerchief. “On top of Constancia running away, it's too much. My husband is furious. He's threatening to send Genoveva to a convent instead.”

“Oh, dear. Constancia has run away?” his mother asked gently.

Lady Carvalho took a deep breath. And then another. “Yes, she declared she was going to marry Tiago Coelho, and her father flew into a fury. So they ran to his family out in the country. They married last week.”

Duilio couldn't help grinning when he imagined how much that would irritate belligerent Lord Carvalho. Tiago Coelho had been one of the family's footmen. A few weeks before, the young man had endured a severe beating trying to protect young Constancia. Despite his being a Freemason, whose prime tenets included Equality, Carvalho didn't epitomize that particular ideal. He'd probably been livid. No wonder Genoveva took his threat of the convent seriously.

His mother patted Lady Carvalho's hand. “I'm sure Mr. Coelho will do all he can to make Constancia happy.”

Anjos waited until he had the lady's attention again. “Now, Lady Carvalho, we need to know everything you can tell us about
this Jesuit. His name, what he looks like, where he's living. We need to find him.”

Lady Carvalho sniffled again. “Why?”

“We need to speak with him regarding a death last week,” Anjos said, choosing the least sensational route. “We believe he might have information.”

“I don't know where to find him,” she said. “I promise. He's come here three times, but I don't know where he's staying.”

“Staying?” Anjos repeated. “He doesn't live here in the city?”

She shook her head. “I don't think so. He's only been coming around for a month. I don't know why he wouldn't have come before if he had been living here.”

“And his name?”

“Pedro Salazar,” the lady said softly. “I thought he was leaving the novitiate. He told me that, all those years ago. But then he left for Spain and didn't come back.”

Well, they had a name now. Duilio still doubted the Jesuits would give them any information, much less help the police find the man. Lady Carvalho went on to describe a tall, lean man, just over fifty, with dark eyes and straight brown hair.

“He was brilliant, you know,” she volunteered. “He believed that if healers and doctors worked together, anything could be accomplished. That illnesses could be defeated, injured parts could be replaced with new ones, and even the dead could be returned to life. That was why he went to Spain. There was a doctor there who wanted to work with him.”

“Spain isn't very friendly toward witches,” Duilio observed. “Why risk going there?”

“It was his
dream
,” she said. “He was willing to sacrifice anything to chase it. His freedom, his life. Even me.”

And a well-bred Portuguese girl who discovered she was with child would have to find a husband quickly—or enter a convent, as
Rafael Pinheiro's mother had done. Duilio doubted kindly Lady Carvalho had ever had much choice in her life after that.

“Does he still chase that dream?” Oriana asked.

“I don't know,” Lady Carvalho whispered. “When he came here, I didn't let him stay long. He . . . his presence made my flesh crawl, as if there was something wrong about him—something evil. I can't imagine what, but I just wanted to run away.”

Oriana leaned forward. “Miss Genoveva mentioned he'd been following her. Has he?”

“She told you?” Lady Carvalho asked, sounding amazed. “I don't allow her to go out alone now, because I fear he might steal her away.”

Inspector Anjos nodded. “A wise decision, Lady Carvalho. I suggest you keep your daughter home until we have him in custody. We do suspect him of wrongdoing.”

“What has he done?” she asked hesitantly.

Anjos seemed to consider for a moment. “Several young women have been murdered,” he finally said. “We think he may be involved.”

Lady Carvalho went whiter than before. She made the sign of the cross, covered her face with her hands, and sobbed. Lady Ferreira laid a consoling hand on her back. “You could not have known, Luiza, all those years ago.”

“Wait a minute,” Oriana said, looking over the back of the sofa at Duilio. “Miss Genoveva said he was following her. Last night when I saw Maria Melo, I pulled Miss Genoveva into the shadows. She seemed frightened, but at the time I assumed it was of
me
.”

“The priest,” Duilio inserted. “It was
him
.” When Anjos gazed at him expectantly, Duilio clarified. “Pardon me. Last night from the balcony at the Simões house, Miss Paredes saw Mrs. Melo speaking to a priest. Miss Carvalho must have thought it was him.”

Gaspar pushed away from the wall. “I think we need to ask Miss Genoveva, then.”

Lady Carvalho rose, handkerchief clutched in her hands. “I'll go up for her.”

With that, the lady left the room, while Anjos rubbed fingers against his temples as if his head ached. “So now we have two people we can't find,” he said, “one of whom is tied to the deaths of the prostitutes, and one of whom is a spy who might or might not be an assassin. But apparently they're dealing together.”

I'm missing something important,
Duilio thought.

“Could Mrs. Melo be choosing victims for him?” Oriana asked. “After all, that was her function within the Open Hand.”

“His victims are random,” Anjos said softly. “Women one might find on the street alone late at night. They might believe a priest trustworthy and walk in his company, making it an excellent guise for a murderer.”

“If he was on the street last night,” Oriana said, “might he not have been looking for another victim?”

Yes, they would have to check the morgue later. Duilio hadn't talked to Joaquim so far this morning, so he hadn't heard anything. “And what does either of them have to do with the murdered nonhuman girls?” he asked.

“To our knowledge, nothing.” Anjos rose when Lady Carvalho appeared on the threshold of the room, a red-eyed Miss Carvalho behind her. Oriana rose to let Genoveva have space on the couch, and Anjos stood until the women settled. He offered Oriana the chair in which he'd been sitting, but she shook her head and went to stand next to Duilio instead. “Now, Miss Carvalho,” Anjos said as he sat again, “I believe your mother told you what we were discussing.”

Genoveva lifted her chin. “Yes, Inspector. I was on the balcony at the Simões ball, and saw that man in the street below. He's been following me frequently for the last two weeks.”

Anjos leaned closer. “We believe you're in danger from him, Miss Carvalho.”

“How so?” she asked.

“When a healer goes bad,” Anjos said, “they can kill with a touch. This man must not come anywhere near you or anyone in this household. Do you understand?”

Anjos might be using a gentle tone, but he'd delivered the truth in the bluntest terms. Miss Carvalho nodded jerkily, her shoulders rigid and her spine straight. “I understand.”

Duilio was glad the girl seemed to grasp the seriousness of the threat.

“Now, I believe we've learned what we needed,” Anjos said. “Is there anything you can think of that might tell us where to find this man?”

Miss Carvalho shook her head slowly. Anjos bid the two Carvalho women a good day and indicated that the group should vacate the family's home.

“What will happen if you capture him?” Miss Carvalho asked before they managed to get away. “Will . . . will I have to testify?”

Given the resolute look on her face, Duilio had no doubt she would. But she clearly didn't want to do so. Testifying would expose her even more publicly than the priest's earlier threats.

“We're going to kill him, Miss Carvalho,” Gaspar said. “So it won't be necessary.”

Anjos directed a narrow-eyed glare at Gaspar.

“Kill him?” Miss Carvalho cast a horrified glance toward her mother.

“I'm sorry, but that is likely,” Anjos said more gently. “We cannot jail him. He would only kill the guards, so our choices are limited.”