“Mr. Carlyle? Douglas Carlyle?”
He shuddered and met her eye. He didn’t flinch, didn’t blink. He stared right through her. “My name is Jane Pinkerton. I’m a master sorcerer with the Pinkerton Detecting Agency. I’m here to help you.”
“Master?” His voice creaked from disuse. He scrambled to his knees. “Master. Master. Master.” He reached out and clawed at her skirts. Jane stepped back as Gallagher moved in front of her and shoved the man away. Carlyle moaned and cowered in his corner, muttering, “Master. Master. Master.”
“You didn’t need to do that,” she snapped at the professor, pushing him aside.
“He was accosting you!”
“The man’s clearly terrified and is looking for help.” She knelt to Carlyle’s level. “Can you tell me anything about what happened?” she asked him.
But Carlyle was ba
