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It began to rain, a cold sweat of precipitation that was more sickly than refreshing. A gaunt, powerful man: no feature of his face decided, and yet for all that it had the significance of a countenance hewn out of rock. ’ Gerald hissed in a doubtful breath. “We’re here to take your foster daughter down to the station to ask her a few questions sir. Time was moving so fast, she could no longer count the days since Gosse had come to her with his preposterous suggestion at the Coq d’Or, where they were staying and where he had robbed her and left her and Martha to their fate.
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