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policeman. “May I have a
word with my client?”
    “Sorry, sir.” And the fellow did look sorry.
“You ain’t his lawyer, so Detective Tilton says I’m not to leave
you alone with him.”
    I kept my expression neutral. I ordinarily
did my best to avoid the police, for the sake of both my profession
and my private life. But it was unavoidable to come into contact
with them at times, and Detective Tilton and I had crossed paths
before. He’d made it clear he considered me as much a brute as any
Pinkerton strike breaker. As I thought him too eager to jump to
conclusions, not to mention too willing to be bribed by the old
families, the dislike was mutual.
    “Of course,” I said. Turning my back to the
officer, I asked, “How are you holding up, Mr. Lambert?”
    “How do you think?” He wrung his hands
unhappily. “Do you have any idea what they’ve accused me of
doing?”
    “I read the account in the newspaper.”
    He groaned and sank back down onto the edge
of his iron cot. “The newspapers...I’ll lose my position for
certain. The scandal...”
    “Don’t lose hope.” I stepped up to the bars
and wrapped my hand around one of them. “Just tell me what
happened, from your perspective.”
    “I was asleep in my rooms last evening—I
live in a boarding house with other bachelors—when my landlady woke
me. She said the police wanted to see me.” His face twisted. “I’ll
be lucky if she hasn’t already thrown all my possessions into the
street!”
    “I’m certain she’ll be understanding,” I
said, more to calm him than because I thought it the truth. “Please
continue.”
    Lambert swallowed convulsively. “I-I thought
the police had come about the map. That they’d found it, perhaps,
or-or something, although why they’d visit in the middle of the
night I couldn’t imagine. Instead, they arrested me. They said
I...they said I killed him.”
    “Mr. Tubbs.” I tried not to think of the man
as I’d last seen him: his tentative smile, his disappointment when
I’d refused his offer to meet away from his job.
    “Yes.” Lambert swayed back and forth.
“Detective Tilton showed me photographs. It was...horrible.
Unspeakable.”
    If Tubbs had died half as
hard as the Widdershins Enquirer
Journal claimed, no wonder Lambert looked
so shaken. “What evidence did Detective Tilton present against
you?”
    “He said I must have done it. That I was
angry after the accusation of theft, and it drove me into a
murderous rage.” Lambert blinked rapidly, but the tears broke loose
and slid down his face anyway. “When I protested my innocence, he
suggested I was either a liar or a madman.”
    “But there was nothing else?” I prompted.
“Nothing of yours at the scene?”
    “Of course not! How could there have been?
I’m an innocent man, Mr. Flaherty. You must believe me!”
    The desperation on Lambert’s face would have
moved a far harder heart than mine. “I do,” I reassured him. “I
have one last question for you. Have you experienced any more
incidents like the one which first led to your encounter with Mr.
Tubbs?”
    He shook his head vehemently. “No.”
    “No loss of memories? Moments of
disorientation? Strange visions?”
    “No.”
    I hoped he was being honest, for his sake.
Certainly he seemed sincere...but at the same time, he might deny
it out of fear such an episode would be used against him.
    Could the map have been a misdirection all
along? Did someone harbor a grudge against Mr. Tubbs and wish to
discredit and kill him? It was hard to believe, given what I’d seen
of the man, but I couldn’t simply dismiss the possibility.
    “Thank you for your time, Mr. Lambert,” I
said. “I suggest you hire a lawyer, if you haven’t already. In the
meantime, I’ll see what I can discover.”
    “Thank you, Mr. Flaherty.” Lambert blinked
back tears. “And please, hurry. My life rests in your hands.”

Chapter 10
    Whyborne
     
    As soon as I reached my office, I removed
the Wisborg Codex