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The thief-taker did not seem charmed, however. “Show me,” he barked.

Grace hesitated. Nobody, aside from the most trusted, knew all the hidden doors leading in and out of the secret passage. By revealing it to the thief-taker, was she putting them all in danger once the brothel resumed its operation?

“Need I remind you that you’re the main suspect?” Gunning drawled. “And the only reason I am even entertaining you outside of the roundhouse is as a courtesy to my brother-in-law. And I don’t even like the man. So, it is in your best interest to cooperate.”

She pursed her lips. “Who is to say that after I show you the secret passage you won’t use it after we reopen?”

He let out a frustrated breath. “If you don’t show me, there’s a good chance this brothel will never reopen.”

“Only five people have known about the existence of the secret passage before the day of the murder. Only five people still know the ins and outs of that passage to this day.”

“Do you include the owner of the brothel in these five people?” Gunning narrowed his eyes, peering into her soul.

Did he suspect she was the owner? She supposed that conclusion was inevitable. And as long as he didn’t suspect Grace, she was fine with that. When this endeavor was over, she would like to return to her anonymity.

“Yes,” she said in a calm tone.

“I need those five names.”

Grace licked her lips, her palms perspiring under his intense perusal. “I can’t give them to you.”

“We made a deal, Miss Tricheuse—”

“Madame,” she interrupted.

He gave a dismissive nod. “You help me find the murderer. I help you clear your precious brothel’s name. I can’t do my job if you withhold information from me.”

“The entire point of me agreeing to this deal was that I keep my fellow harlots out of danger and suspicion. They are not murderers. I can say that with a great deal of certainty.”

“For the sake of the argument, let’s say you’re right,” he said, stepping closer to her. Crowding her. Towering over her. “None of your precious colleagues perpetrated the murder. But someone did. That someone slipped in and out of the room undetected. This tells me that one of your colleagues must have shown the secret passage to someone else. Therefore, they are an accomplice. To figure out who that accomplice is, I need to question those people—”

“What you are proposing is an elaborate conspiracy,” she interrupted hastily. “When an easier explanation is that the secret passage was not utilized in perpetrating this murder at all.”

Gunning pursed his lips in annoyance. No doubt, few men ever dared interrupt him. He made an intimidating figure with his tall height, ungentlemanly wide shoulders, and frightening reputation. But Grace had dealt with more intimidating men than he.

“Then how can you explain the murderer getting away without being seen?” he asked in a deceptively calm tone.

Grace turned away from him and walked toward the door leading to the main hall. “I’ll show you.”

* * *

Ford followed Madame Tricheuse down the corridor as she led the way.

The dark and gloomy interior of the building made him feel anything but pleasure. Perhaps filled with beautiful courtesans, their perfumes wafting through the air, their laughter surrounding the guests, their half-naked limbs enticing the patrons, this place would be more arousing.

As it was, all Ford felt was annoyance, frustration, and stomach-churning hunger.

Normally, this time of night was when Ford would stumble home after a long night’s work for a meal and a much-needed bath before tumbling into bed.

But this was the perfect time to meet Madame Tricheuse.

At this hour, every drunk and petty criminal would be stumbling back inside to sleep, while every honest working man was just rousing for the busy day ahead—it was the perfect time for a clandestine meeting, with less chance of being noticed by any suspicious parties.

And if Ford was going to solve this murder, he needed to be careful.

He had no idea who the aristocrat’s murderer was.

He wasn’t naïve enough to believe the dainty harlot before him was the perpetrator, but he wasn’t arrogant enough to completely remove her from his suspect list. This particular gentleman’s murder was not an isolated case. Something darker was afoot. Something to do with mysterious, secret societies.