"What do you mean?" said George.
Price suddenly stood and pressed a hand to his temple. "I don't like to tell you this as it might get the man into trouble."
George and I exchanged glances. "Go on," I urged Price.
He sighed and picked up the pipe from its little stand on the mantelpiece. He put it into his mouth but didn't light it. "Blunt wanted to know how to summon one," he mumbled around the end of the pipe, "how to control them, all the different kinds of demons, that sort of thing."
"You didn't think his questions unusual?" George asked, incredulous.
"Of course I did, boy!" He pulled the pipe out and pointed the end at George. "I told him about you and your library and I said if he wanted to know anything, you were the man to ask." He sighed, and folded his long, thin arms over his chest. "I even told him about that specific book you mentioned. I said it was a good place to begin."
George groaned and I closed my eyes. It was looking more and more like Blunt was involved. But if that was the case, why did he tell us about the conversation with Price at all? He must know Price could turn the suspicion back on him.
"And no one else overheard you?" I asked.
Price shrugged sharp, angular shoulders. "They might have. I don't know, do I?" He strode to the door, reaching it in two giant strides even though he had to avoid George's chair and a pile of books stacked beside it. "Anyway, it's not my problem, I didn't summon the bloody thing." This he directed straight at me, as if it were my fault my sister had accidentally released the demon. I suppose it was, in a way. "Give my regards to Blunt."
George stood but instead of leading the way out, he confronted Price. "I say, you don't seem too perturbed by the fact there's a shape-shifting demon loose in the city and that you might be partially responsible."
"I am not responsible, partially or otherwise." Price grunted and popped his pipe back in his mouth. His gaze flicked to me, cool and assessing once more, then back to George. "The death is a tragedy of course," he said with a nod at the newspaper. "But I don't see how I can help. Demons are your specialty, Culvert. Of course if there's anything I can do to help, I trust you'll let me know."
Dismissed, George and I had no alternative but to leave although George hesitated for a brief moment in the doorway. Once outside, we climbed back into his carriage just as the clouds parted above and let the sun shine through. It didn't last long and the gray clouds had swallowed up the beams by the time we reached the end of the street.