I need to do some serious structural work on this part of the book. I was going to get that done today, but then my kid’s computer decided to start sparking…
Naturally, this state of watchful peace did not mean that we were permitted to wander through the embassy on our own; we were accompanied by two men with shotguns and a Swedenborgian lay sister. Their eyes were watchful but not particularly hostile, but what impressed me was their steady heartbeats. The Americans were not nervous to have either monsters or agents of the Crown present, despite the fact that we were investigating a murder that might have diplomatic repercussions. Either they knew nothing, or there was nothing here to know.
From the look on his face, Dr. Bell was coming to the same conclusion. “Things here seem calm enough,” he said, apparently indifferent to the American ears surrounding us. “I wonder if they’ve even been told about the ambassador’s son?” He flicked his eyes my way; I flatter myself that I understood his meaning immediately. The Americans’ heartbeats had not elevated even a flicker at his words; if anything, they slowed down a touch. Clearly the rank-and-file at least were not unduly concerned about the situation. Unless they were under a spell of some kind — my own eyes settled on the Swedenborgian for a moment — but I supposed that Dr. Doyle might have made his own kind of signal if he felt magic at work.
Bell’s own heartbeat was quite informative; strong, and at moment, quick like a runner’s. I suspected that he lived for these sorts of encounters. I also suspected that he quite enjoyed the idea of having someone along who could taste a man’s fear or worry from across the room. I worried about that, a touch; he might wish to make this a permanent arrangement. Not that murders are not interesting, but one should not make a regular meal of them.