"Ow!"

"Then stop fidgeting." Anna snapped as she drew the needle carefully through the skin before knotting it to cut the wire. "You're lucky I tackled you."

"Yes, I feel very lucky." Ms. Braithwaite sneered back, flinching as Anna bound her arm tightly with gauze. "Because I wanted to be banged and bruised before I went to jail."

"Serves you right." Anna tossed her tools into the metal pan, folding her arms before turning Ms. Braithwaite to examine the possible damage to her wrists. "For what I know you've done and what I've no idea you've done."

"If you've no idea then how can you say it serves me right?" Ms. Braithwaite snorted, "You don't know anything about me."

"I know you impersonated me to steal three bodies."

"They're dead."

"And other people might die if you don't tell us why." John's voice cut through their banter and Anna moved immediately to his arm to examine the darkening patch on his jacket. "I think one of the bullets winged me."

"Ms. Braithwaite too." Anna removed the jacket and frowned at John's shirt. "This'll take a bit more time to sew up."

"I'm sure asking Mr. Carson to borrow his office would be out of the question." John ducked past her to grab for some gauze and pressed it to the wound. "For now. Until we get her somewhere safe and these bodies moved back to the morgue. I'm not taking my eyes off this."

"Stubborn."

"Name call all you want." He winced as he pressed the gauze to his shoulder. "And where is the intrepid Mr. Moseley?"

"Here." Anna pointed and moved around Ms. Braithwaite and John to greet Mr. Moseley as he descended his truck. "Mr. Moseley, right on time."

"I try to be punctual." He gave a little smile, as if Anna had paid him a fine compliment, and twitched for a moment before speaking again. "And where do we collect the… Cargo?"

"They're down here." Both Anna and Mr. Moseley turned to where Ms. Baxter stood by the open doors to the cellar. "If you'd like, I can show you."

"Ah, if you could lead the way we'd, that's to say my helpers and I would very much, that is, we'd appreciate the help."

"Lord give me strength." Ms. Braithwaite groaned but Anna shushed her and watched as Mr. Moseley and Ms. Baxter descended the stairs together.

"I guess there is some benefit to the macabre." Anna turned back to Ms. Braithwaite. "Who was shooting at you?"

"If you're hoping that your Frankenstein level of stitching to my shoulder'll put in good enough spirits to talk to you then you're just as mad as the two befuddled inspectors." Ms. Braithwaite maneuvered slightly, "Although it look as if you're down one right now."

"He's off investigating who tried to kill you." John stood, checking the gauze before grabbing another wad of it to press at his shoulder. "You're lucky."

"Why? Was he supposed to be the baddie in the little duo you've assembled?" Ms. Braithwaite scoffed, "I've seen more terror arise from bad comedy shows."

"Because whoever tried to shoot you didn't succeed like they did for the last poor soul who was gunned down in this alley." John pointed to the other bullet holes in the brickwork. "Actually, it was two souls. James Kent, your former co-worker, and a noble constable of mine named Henry Laing."

Ms. Braithwaite's face hardened but she held John's gaze as Anna watched. "What of it? You think that frightens me?"

"It should." John pointed, grimacing as it pulled at his shoulder but guided Ms. Braithwaite to follow the path of his arm to where William and Alfred hauled the first of the bodies into the back of Mr. Moseley's lorry. "Because that's how people in your line of work are rewarded. Don't be fooled and think you were a victim of circumstance today. They were shooting for you."

John stood, "And maybe, next time, there won't be a Doctor Smith to save your life. Or me to take a bullet for you. It'll just be you bleeding out somewhere." He gathered the files scattered over the ground before turning back to Ms. Braithwaite. "Food for thought as you sit in lock up."

Anna waited, watching the shuffles and shifts of Ms. Braithwaite's posture as John walked away from her, and bit at her cheeks to keep from smiling when the fear won out and Ms. Braithwaite called out for John. "Wait! I'll tell you… I'll tell you what you want to know. Or at least what I know."

They managed to find space in the cramped confines of Ms. Baxter's office, she more than willing to hand over the space to give her an excuse to continue a conversation with Mr. Moseley in the alley, and Anna finally addressed John's shoulder. The bullet went through and through, missing anything major, and Anna cleaned and stitched it with swift efficiency as Ms. Braithwaite told what she knew of the operation. With her still in handcuffs, and trapped behind Ms. Baxter's desk with Anna and John between her and the door, it fell on John to write with his left hand. A feat he handled remarkably well as Anna taped the gauze to him and bound up his shoulder.

"Then you only know what we already do." John let the pen drop, shaking his head. "At least you're a witness. All the others with this information are either wearing badges or dead."

"Comforting." Ms. Braithwaite bit at him as Anna helped John back into his shirt and jacket. "What now?"

"We send you to prison and hope no one kills you there."

"You've an awful bedside manner."

"I'm not a doctor, Ms. Braithwaite."

"Well your doctor's bedside manner isn't better."

Anna gave her a smile, "Only for you."

"It doesn't matter anyway." Ms. Braithwaite slumped in her chair. "It's not like it'll be long before Vera finds out about what happened here."

"And then?"

"You said it yourself." Ms. Braithwaite nodded at John, "It's probably going to be my death sentence. Prison's not a safe place for me."

"It's not safe for anyone. The point is to keep you away from other people."

"So the moment I'm clapped in irons I'm expendable."

"Say it how you like, Ms. Braithwaite, but it's the way it is." John stood, taking his notes. "Prison's purpose is to keep people like yourself away from good people. The people you hurt in the crossfire of your selfishness."

"Because we're not people if we're criminals?"

"Because no one should have to care more about you than you obviously didn't about them, that's why." John shook his head, "Be that as it may, however, we'll find somewhere to keep you so you'll not make too much trouble."

"I might have a solution for that." Anna jerked her head toward the door and she and John exited to the corridor. "What about your mother's house?"

"Excuse me?"

"It's not the station and it'll give you an excuse to keep an eye on her."

"I'm not dragging my mother into this." John chewed the inside of his cheek. "What about your friends? The ones who keep mucking everything up for us. Can't they do us a solid, just once?"

"I've already expended more than a few favors for this case already."

"Then that leaves Robert." John ground his teeth. "Let me make a few calls and then we need to go."

"Go where?"

"To speak to my ex-wife." He shuddered, "Because for as much as I hate everything about what's happened here, Ms. Braithwaite's right. It's only a matter of time before Vera hears about what happened here and we're in it."

"We're already in it." Anna shook her head, exhaustion finally catching up with her. "We're been behind the eight ball since this whole thing started."

"Everyone does seem to know more about this than we do." John paused, "Have we… Have we received an answer from your friend?"

"He's willing to give you some of the answers you want, yes." Anna cringed, "But he'll only give you an hour and nothing he tells you is reportable. You'll just have to handle the information you have as it is and then find a way to prove it."

"Sounds about right for this case." John scratched the back of his head, hissing as it pulled at his fresh stitches before nodding. "I'll try and get Robert on a phone. We'll sort out Ms. Braithwaite and then you and I'll see my ex-wife."

"How very ominous."

"Not to be dramatic, but there is more than a little worry for me about it." John shook his head, "I need a holiday."

Anna watched him go before leaning against the wall next to the office door. "Don't we all."

"What?"

Anna started as Ms. Baxter came into the corridor, "Nothing. I was… Speaking to myself, mostly."

"I do that on occasion." Ms. Baxter nodded toward her office. "What about Ms. Braithwaite? Is it…"

"She'll probably go to prison." Anna shrugged, "For how long or where, who knows. And if she can get herself a good solicitor then maybe they'll find a way to keep her from suffering more severe repercussions but…"

"It's a shame."

"Is it?"

"We're all better than our worst mistakes." Ms. Baxter rubbed at one of her arms. "Mr. Barrow had a few bits of information about my life that, under a different light and very altered circumstances, came to shape who I was for a very long time. Longer even than I like to admit."

"If I can ask, between us," Anna leaned forward, "What did he know about you that was so damning you had to keep quiet about the work he did?"

"He knew I'd been to prison." Anna tried to keep her eyebrows from raising but it could not be helped. "Yes. I served my time for it and I was lucky that the war made a lot of the repercussions go away."

"How so?"

"I served three of the five-year sentence passed on me when war broke out. They offered a deal that if I served the remaining two years in a nurse's home I could leave with a, mostly, expunged record."

"Then how'd Mr. Barrow find out?"

"I was friends with his sister and our families were always close when I was growing up." Ms. Baxter gave a little shrug with her shoulders. "He knew I'd served time and said he knew people he could ask to get the information and use it against me in my employment search."

"Did he?"

"I was never brave enough to challenge him. And, even now that he's dead and the threat is somewhat lifted, I'm afraid that whatever debt he though I owed him might've… Transferred to whomever he worked for."

"Do you have any idea who that could be?"

Ms. Baxter shook her head. "None. I know he and Ms. O'Brien were thick as thieves and he managed to ensnare poor Jimmy into his plottings. But otherwise I only knew of his work. If it was bigger than him then… Then it wasn't until the night that Turkish gentleman died."

"Seems like everything comes back to the five forks at that table and a stupid pen." Anna shook her head but stopped. "But why only five forks?"

"Sorry?"

"There were seven people at that table, that night. Jimmy, Mr. Barrow, Ms. O'Brien, Vera, Mr. Pamuk, one other gentleman I don't know, and Mr. Carlisle. So why only the five forks?"

"Jimmy, Thomas, and Ms. O'Brien wouldn't have been eating."

"But that would leave a fork extra." Anna held open her hands and turned to John as he entered the corridor. "Why the extra fork?"

"What fork?"

"At the table that night. We collected into evidence five forks and the pen. If three of them weren't eating, because they were only there for the toast, why was there an extra fork?"

John blinked and then risked an answer. "Because someone thought they were getting more courses and everyone else knew they weren't."

"Exactly." Anna snapped her fingers and reentered the office, knocking on the desk to get Ms. Braithwaite's attention. "Who knew that Mr. Pamuk was going to die that night?"

"What?"

"The night of Mr. Pamuk's death there were five forks. Their menus would've allowed for three courses, that's a minimum of three forks each but there were only five forks for the four people at that table." Anna folded her arms over her chest. "Why did three of the people at that table know they were only getting a single course while one of them prepared for at least two?"

Ms. Braithwaite looked between Anna and John. "I don't know."

"Then I guess it's-"

"But Vera would." Ms. Braithwaite stared both of them down. "She is one of the only people left standing from that table."

"She, Mr. Carlisle, and…" Anna turned to John. "Who was the other man?"

"Alex Green." Ms. Braithwaite drew them both back to her again. "He was the one who had Mr. Barrow moving drugs. It was, before Mr. Carlisle stepped in, his operation. Then he partnered and business boomed."

"Were you a partaker?"

"Never." Ms. Braithwaite shook her head. "But he moved more than a little of his product when Ms. O'Brien started her nights of gambling, I'll tell you that."

"And what else would you tell us?" John leaned forward but Ms. Braithwaite shook her head. "Nothing until I know I'll not die the minute I set foot outside the doors of this building.

"Fair." John stepped back and motioned for Anna to join him in the corridor again. "And that's exactly what we hope Mr. Mason here can provide."

A kindly, older gentleman entered the room, nodding to Anna and John, and even Ms. Baxter still in the corridor, before coming over to Ms. Braithwaite. "I do hope you don't mind but you'll be staying a short time with me."

"What?" Ms. Braithwaite looked between John and Anna but Anna had no response and John only shrugged. "What is this? Who is this?"

"Mr. Mason's an old friend of the police. He'll keep you safe and, in the case that you need one, he's to be your solicitor."

"I don't-"

"Have a choice." John clarified, stopping Ms. Braithwaite's argument. "Because if you refuse this offer you will probably die because we'll release you and whoever shot at you will probably succeed in killing you."

"You can't be serious."

"As the plague, Ms. Braithwaite." John turned to Anna, "Are you ready?"

"If Mr. Moseley is-"

"He's all finished." Ms. Baxter immediately interrupted, leaving John and Anna open mouthed at the speed of her response. "He's… He's all finished."

"Oh, then…" Anna turned to John. "It would seem I'm available."

"Perfect." John nodded at Mr. Mason, "Do what you can with her and endure as best you can."

"Will do." Mr. Mason gave them a smile and accepted the keys John gave him for the handcuffs. "I'll keep her safe, Inspector."

"I know." John left the office and Anna followed him out, checking over her things as John continued to file through the papers Ms. Baxter gave him. "These will take time to sort through."

"You could always recruit a constable or two for help."

"No." John tucked the papers away and moved into the alley, finding the hidden crate to safely slide the files in to keep them concealed. "The fewer people involved in this operation the better chance we have of making sure this evidence doesn't go missing."

"I think Ms. Braithwaite may have a point," Anna leaned on the wall as John finished. "We truly have no idea what we're doing."

"What else can we do?" John shrugged and grimaced again, holding at his injury. "This is the only life I know and it's the one I've got to live."

"I wasn't saying we should stop." Anna trailed John to the street, helping him hail a cab. "I was just saying that, perhaps, we should consider that we're not ready for what we might find."

John paused, leaning back against the seat in the cab before offering another shrug. "I think I wasn't prepared for this from the moment I walked into the Cerulean Swan hoping to end my evening early with a quick arrest."

"And now?"

"Now?" John sighed, "Now I think I'm just hoping I don't kill everyone as I try to solve this. Because what point would it be to try and solve a case if everyone, when you're finished, is dead?"

"Not much." Anna stayed silent a few moments, "What should I know about your ex-wife before I meet her?"

"That she's a pit viper and try not to show her any emotion." John held Anna's eyes as she almost laughed but immediately sobered at the level of seriousness to his statement. "She's… She's not nice, which is putting it mildly, but the fact she got involved in this means she's even worse than I imagined."

"Than you imagined?"

"I thought she was horrible when she cheated on me while I was a prisoner of war, and perhaps before, but this…" John bit at his cheek. "I never saw her as a woman who would be involved in selling drugs or back room gambling or whatever else might be intertwined in all of this."

"I guess we never really know people."

"I guess." John slouched in his seat. "All I know is I never saw anything like this in my life when I took this job."

"Me either." Anna sat straighter, "Where are we going?"

"Vera, last I knew, still works at one of Carlisle's papers." John faced forward, "We're going to knock on all the doors we need to until we find which one decided to take her in after she married him."

It only took them two papers to find the one that made her a supervising editor. And even less time to get them into her office so Vera could leer at them from across a rather obnoxiously large desk. Anna tried to adjust in the purposefully uncomfortable seat but settled for perching on the very edge of it so as to not strain her toes keeping herself from looking too small for the chairs.

Vera herself was… Anna barely had words for her that were not horrible contradictions. The lines of age that might have suggested wisdom if not used for conveying wrath. Dark hair and stunning eyes used only to seduce or cut down. And the smile that reminded Anna of predators. Everything about her spoke to vicious efficiency and a terminal lack of remorse. The kind of person one would associate with doing the worst of deeds and leaving nothing but a faint whiff of lost time in the act itself.

She swallowed as quietly as possible and waited for Vera to finish her inspection of them. What the woman saw she kept to herself but the continual glint at the corner of her eye, the way she kept darting glances at Anna, almost had Anna gripping the arms of the chair to stop herself shivering. The standoff dissolved quickly as Vera leaned back in her chair to survey them like penitents seeking absolution for some crime in her kingdom.

"How the mighty have fallen, eh Johnny?"

"We're here about the deaths at the Cerulean Swan."

"You already questioned me about the… Unfortunate demise of Mr. Pamuk while I was on the premises and I have nothing more to offer you now than I did then." Vera opened her hands to them, shrugging as a devious smile took over her face. "There's nothing else to say."

"What about the deaths of Mr. Thomas Barrow or Ms. Sarah O'Brien?" Anna kept her eyes on John's face as he asked, twitching slightly to keep pressure off his injury. "Do you know anything about them?"

"They stopped by our table that night. Asked if the service was fine. Sarah always got a good table for Richard and I." Vera eyed John, "Something you probably don't understand, in your insufferably nobility, is the benefit of having friends in high enough places to do things for you."

"What I don't understand is how you don't know anything about their deaths, if you claim to know them."

"You remember Asia Johnny. There's a few different versions of 'knowing' someone." Vera ticked them off on her fingers, "The acquaintances you simply run into every now and again. The people who enter your circle and you have to care for. And then there's family. Sarah was, for all the lovely little conversations we had, the outer circle. Therefore her actions have no effect on me."

"What about Edna Braithwaite?"

"Can't say her name rings any bells for me."

"Your rang one for her."

"I'm the editor of a very popular ladies' magazine so I'd understand if she felt some attachment to my work."

"It's not as popular as it used to be." Anna muttered and paused when the weight of Vera's gaze landed on her. "Didn't you know? Your circulation is down by ten percent over last quarter and almost twenty-five percent from last year. Perhaps your husband, Mr. Carlisle, might've been better served hiring on Mr. Gregson instead of buying out this arm of Mr. Gregson's business."

"My husband trusts my abilities."

"I highly doubt that or he wouldn't have handed you the reins to the easiest success in his purchase history just to have you flush it down the toilet." Anna turned to John, "Thinking about it, I don't actually believe that Ms. Braithwaite could've been talking about Vera."

"No?" John's confusion played well as he tried to mask the reasons for it in a shuffle on his uncomfortable chair. "Why's that?"

"Because she obviously couldn't be in charge of something as complicated as… Well, you know." Anna went to stand, darting a look back at Vera to catch the cracking veneer barely covering a seething expression. "It would be too complicated for her tiny mind and Mr. Carlisle knew it."

"My husband and I share everything. We trust one another."

"Clearly not." Anna nodded at her, "But it was… Not lovely to meet you. I'm just sorry you failed to live up to expectations."

"And what expectations are those, Doctor?" Vera stood, leaning over her desk with her arms supporting her to create the image of an imposing triangle. "Whatever Johnny here told you is a lie."

"I don't think his painting of you as a vicious viper was anything but absolutely true." Anna clicked her teeth, "But I never thought he'd lie when he said you were devious. I was expecting some grand architect and, instead, I find an errand girl. Reduced to a page boy."

"Page boy?" Vera's fingers could have snapped through the wood on her desk. "What I do, for my husband, is beyond what you could comprehend."

"Then explain it to us." Anna shrugged, opening her hands. "Perhaps you can impress us with something because, otherwise, this is a wholly unjustified visit that has been, if anything, rather a disappointment."

"Because what I do behind this desk is more than shilling out papers to pampered princesses and their sycophantic friends." Vera almost spit at Anna. "I control an empire that stretched through China, Singapore, and Turkey. I help run it all and if that idiot hadn't mucked it all up then we'd all be richer than kings. But no, Kemal had to-"

"Had to what?" Anna regretted it the moment she spoke, realizing she broke the precious track she so carefully laid to bring out Vera's ire, to incite her to prove herself. All of it shattered in the second her voice broke Vera's concentration and the woman realized what she said. Or almost said.

"Had to go and die." Vera snorted, reaching for a glass on her desk and uncorking a glass decanter to pour from it, not offering any to John or Anna. "Fool. Whatever it was he was doing when he was… Well, not with the ladies, got him tossed in a body bag and shipped home a disgrace."

"Is that what the papers said about it?"

"It's what Richard told me about it." Vera sipped at her drink, frowning for half a second before studying the glass and knocking the remaining contents back. "He visited me today, as he always does, and told me you still had theories knocking around about it. Even though higher people than you said to leave it be."

"I was always tenacious."

"You were a stubborn bastard who couldn't see when he'd lost." Vera winced, coughing as if something caught in her throat. "Richard thinks you're fools and I agreed with him. It's why I told him all about our marriage so he could publish it as an expose in his newspapers. Along with the details of the investigation you're still running when you were supposed to drop it."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Oh but I would Johnny." Vera stood again, facing off with John this time. "You compared me to an animal and yet you're surprised when I attack?"

John stayed silent and Vera snorted at him. "Did you forget that beasts have claws and teeth and talons and fangs?"

"I couldn't forget what a viper you are Vera." John stuffed his notebook and pencil back in his pocket. "And I couldn't-"

But both he and Anna stiffened as Vera jerked, convulsing to fall onto her desk before slipping off it to hit the floor on the other side. "Vera?"

They rushed around opposite sides, trying to get to Vera as she twitched and thrashed on the floor, seizing and shaking through the foam gathering and spitting from her mouth as she choked on it. Anna reached for the water on the desk, snatching at it to try and get some of it down Vera's throat but she knocked Anna's efforts away and only succeeded in soaking one another. Less than a minute later Vera stopped moving, her eyes staring eternally at the ceiling.