A Charm of Magpies 03 Flight of Magpies Read Online Free

them with pursed lips through half-moon spectacles, was not much of an improvement. As well born as Fairley but a lot more use, Mrs. Baron Shaw could be relied on for absolute fairness, but as Stephen well knew, this was only welcome when one was not in the wrong, and her expression suggested this was not currently the case.
    He ran through the last few days in his head, wondering what infraction had caught the Council’s attention. It couldn’t, surely, be the Magpie Lord’s power: they would have called him in alone for that. The thought nevertheless made him feel slightly cold. Telling Esther and her husband that he and Crane were lovers had been one of the most frightening moments of a life filled with fears, and he had not even managed to form the words himself, instead retreating into Lucien like the coward he was. Explaining that to the Council… No.
    Pay attention, Steph. They’re not here about that.
    John Slee raised his head from the papers he had been ostentatiously shuffling. “Well, come on, we’re running late.” He looked as annoyed as if the delay was Stephen’s fault. “What have you to say about this?”
    “About what?” Esther said. “Nobody’s told us what we’re here for.”
    George Fairley snorted. “Your guttersnipe. That thieving young rough, what’s her name.”
    Stephen stiffened, and Esther drew an angry breath, but Mrs. Baron Shaw spoke before either of them could. “That’s what we’re here to discuss, George. It is not proven. And the justiciar’s name is Saint. I can write it down if you have trouble remembering all five letters.” She gave Fairley a tight smile with no pretence at sincerity, and held it until he muttered something and glanced away, then looked over her spectacles at Stephen and Esther. “I take it you haven’t heard about the robberies.”
    “What robberies?”
    “A series of relatively small thefts from wealthy homes.” Mrs. Baron Shaw was hugely wealthy herself, and a member of the highest society. Stephen knew that she had met Crane several times at the parties and political salons to which Leonora Hart dragged him, as well as in a shabby church hall at Stephen’s side during an outbreak of magical malpractice. He wondered if she was curious about him.
    She was tapping her finger on the desk in front of her. “Small items, cash and jewellery, stolen from rooms on third or fourth floors. Through windows which are, by any normal means, inaccessible.”
    “Two separate witnesses report a figure running away through the sky,” said Fairley with immense satisfaction in the curve of his damp lips. “The thief, they say, was walking on thin air. And the witness from Monday night states very clearly that he saw a fair-haired young woman.”
    Stephen stared at him. “Are you accusing Jenny Saint of theft?”
    “Do you know any other blonde, female windwalkers?” Fairley returned.
    “No,” Esther said. “But I know plenty of witnesses who make mistakes. And quite a lot of liars.”
    “Why weren’t we told about this earlier?” Stephen demanded. “If you believe that Saint is abusing her powers to commit crimes—”
    “Macready’s team has been alerted,” Fairley said.
    “Macready,” Stephen repeated. “You have asked one justiciary team to investigate a member of another justiciary team.” He shoved his hands behind his back, feeling the surge of power through them as his anger rose. “You’ve accused Jenny Saint to Macready without even telling us?”
    “We’re telling you now.” Fairley sounded smug.
    “That’s entirely unjust. I protest that, sir.”
    “We are the Council,” Slee said with thumping authority.
    “We are Jenny Saint’s trainers!” Esther snapped back.
    “Do I need to remind you of Saint’s disciplinary record?” Fairley put in. “You two have protected her despite consistently poor behaviour—”
    “She’s impulsive,” Stephen said. “She’s not a thief.”
    “She is a thief. Always has been.