Watters glanced at Fletcher, who took him aside again. 'The doctor says he may lose the sight of one eye.' Watters nodded. 'So you were attacked because of your Masonic rings then, Elwood.' 'Maybe sir, and maybe not. They never mentioned them, but they took our rings away. They bit off Nixon's finger, sir, bit it off like a dog with a bone.' Watters disguised his thrill of horror. He had seen and heard a lot worse, but every case presented him with some new depth of human depravity. 'Do you remember how your attackers looked? Could you give me a description of any of them?' There was silence for a moment, and then Elwood spoke again. 'The woman who threw the powder was small, sir, with a saffron shawl and hair as black as the Earl of Hell's waistcoat. Once the attack started, I never