A Charm of Magpies 03 Flight of Magpies Read Online Free Page B

born and bred on the streets, and once a guttersnipe, always a guttersnipe.”
    “Fairley. Is that the fellow I met in spring with the damp mouth and damper handshake?”
    “Grovels to anyone he can’t bully. Yes.” Crane had described him as an oleaginous prick, Stephen recalled. He made a mental note to repeat that pithy phrase to Esther. “He doesn’t like me, or Saint. Or Esther, actually.”
    “Mrs. Gold is something of a challenge,” Crane pointed out. “So, this windwalking is a rare skill? Not a talent you’ve been hiding under a bushel?”
    “Good Lord, no. It’s an extraordinarily rare ability. I know of Saint, a grandmother who has rheumatism now, a chap in Yorkshire with a terrible drink problem, and a poor devil on the South Coast who lost concentration over a cliff and shattered both his legs in the fall. There are doubtless more of them out there, but not many—”
    “And no fair-haired young women among them to your knowledge,” Crane finished for him. “It doesn’t look too good for Miss Saint.”
    That was, Stephen reflected, one of the reasons he loved him. Other men might have made reassuring noises, and Stephen would have been obliged to pretend to be reassured. Crane did not.
    He came to sit on the other end of the sofa, swinging his feet up so his legs rested on Crane’s lap. “No, it doesn’t look good. She’s not the most scrupulous person, and they pay us such a pathetic pittance, and…no. But I’m not going to see her convicted on that basis without hard evidence. Give a dog a bad name, and all that. We’ll keep an eye on her.” Stephen sighed. “What made it worse was that Esther had a blazing row with the Council about it. Fairley had already convicted Saint in his own head, but she put up John Slee’s back too—I told you about him, didn’t I, the idiot who campaigns against the justiciary. It wasn’t helpful. She was feeling rather poorly.” He took a gulp of wine, steeling himself. “Er, Lucien…”
    Crane frowned. “What is it?”
    “Esther. It’s why she’s not well. She told me today, after the meeting. She’s expecting.”
    “Expecting what? Oh, expecting . Well, that’s good news. Isn’t it?”
    Stephen made a face. “The thing is, she’s had three miscarriages so far, that I know about. And it seems as though the problem is related to using her powers on a large scale. The last time was just after the Underhill business last winter, and Dan made her promise that next time she’d stop work right away.”
    “And she’s expecting now.”
    “Yes, and sick as a dog with it.” Stephen had been obliged to hold her hair as she retched after the meeting. It was, he felt, a duty he could have been spared.
    “So…?”
    “So I’m on my own for the next year at least, assuming everything goes well. Even if she wasn’t ill, she can’t use her powers. If she did and lost the child— She shouldn’t risk it, anyway.”
    “No, of course. Well, give her my best wishes. So who replaces her?” Crane paused. “You will be getting some help, won’t you?”
    Stephen rather wished his lover wasn’t quite so acute at identifying problems that might otherwise have gone unmentioned. “From whom? There are seven justiciars in London, including me and Es, and four of them are juniors, and one of those is Saint. The Council have refused to appoint any more in ages, even though we lost Arbuthnot the summer before last. Esther’s been asking for someone to take her place but she can’t go on any more. She’s been sick four times a day for the last week.” Stephen opened his palms helplessly. “There’s not much I can do except pick up her workload.”
    “On your own?” Crane’s brows drew together. “What about Christmas? Rothwell?”
    “It, uh, might not be possible.”
    “Oh, for—” Crane shoved Stephen’s feet off his lap and sprang up, stalking over to pour himself another glass of wine.
    “Look, I want to go,” Stephen appealed to his