Humanity, he thought darkly—watching a giggling woman in her fifties plunking down a wad of twenties for a set of commemorative china plates with hand-painted portraits of victims, suspects, police investigators, and crime scenes—humanity is a sick species.
“Is she honestly going to display those hideous things in her house?”
Kit glanced around at the sound of a familiar voice at his elbow. Ann Vinh Mulhaney was gazing in disgust at the woman buying the plates.
“Hello, Ann. And I think the answer’s yes. I’m betting she’ll not only display them, she’ll put them right out in the middle of her china hutch.”
Ann gave a mock shudder. “God, Ripperoons . . . You wouldn’t believe the last class of them I had to cope with.” She glanced up at Kit, who gave her a sardonic smile. Kit had seen it all—and then some. “On second thought, you probably would believe it. Have you seen Sven yet? He came up before I did.”
“No, I just got here. Robert said something about finding a spot to watch Primary go and said he wanted my opinion on something.”
“Really?” Ann’s eyes glinted with sudden interest. “That something wouldn’t have anything to do with Peg Ames, would it?”
Kit blinked. “Good God. Have I missed something?”
Ann laughed, pulling loose the elastic band holding her long dark hair, and shrugged the gleaming tresses over one shoulder. She’d clearly just come from class, since she still wore a twin-holster rig with a beautiful pair of Royal Irish Constabulary Webley revolvers. Unlike the big military Webleys, which came open on a top-break hinge for reloading and were massive in size, the little RIC Webley was a solid-frame double-action that loaded like the American single-action Army revolver through a gate in the side, and came in a short-barrelled, concealable version popular with many time tourists heading to London. At .442 caliber, they packed a decent punch and were easier to hide than the much larger standard Webleys. Kit had shot them several times during his down-time escapades—and had cut his finger more than once on the second trigger, a needle-type spur projecting down behind the main trigger.
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