Free After Glow by Jayne Castle

appeared.
    “You’re the new Guild boss, ain’t ya?” the man rasped. “Saw your picture in the papers tonight.”
    One of the many downsides of his new position was the very high profile that came with it, Emmett thought. On the other hand occasionally it could be useful.
    “I’m Emmett London,” he said. He did not introduce Lydia who was standing very quietly in the hallway.
    “Thought so. Name’s Cornish.” He squinted at Emmett. “This thing with Maltby. Guild matter, huh?”
    “Yes, it is.”
    Emmett sensed rather than saw Lydia’s surprise and disapproval, but he paid no attention. He hadn’t lied to the old man. As far as he was concerned, as long as Lydia was involved in this mess, it was a Guild matter. After all, she was sleeping with him and he was running the Cadence Guild. It was a simple enough equation.
    “Maltby was murdered, wasn’t he?” Cornish grunted, as if something he had been thinking all along had just been independently confirmed. “Knew he didn’t accidentally OD. He didn’t always resonate on what you’d call well-tuned amber but he was no fool when it came to his Chartreuse. He knew how to handle the stuff. Been using for years, y’know.”
    Lydia moved forward. “We’re trying to find out what, exactly, happened here today. Can you help us?”
    “Me? Nah.” Cornish shook his head very fast. “I didn’t see nothin‘. Just heard a lotta noise out in the hall late this morning. Next thing I know there’s you and the new Guild chief and a bunch of cops and medics cluttering up the place. Then I seen ’em carry out poor old Maltby.”
    “There were two people inside Maltby’s apartment when we arrived tonight.” Emmett reached for his wallet and deliberately took out a couple of bills. “Did you happen to see them enter?”
    Cornish examined the cash with great longing. “Well, now—”
    “Like I said, this is a Guild matter,” Emmett said evenly. “I’m only in the market for the right answers.”
    Cornish hesitated, obviously pondering the risks of lying to the new boss of the Cadence Guild. Then he sighed heavily and shook his head with deep regret.
    “Didn’t see anyone go in the front door,” he said. “Must’ve used the alley window. Heard ‘em tearing the place up but never got a look at ’em.”
    “Thanks.” Emmett handed the cash through the crack in the door. “The Guild appreciates your honesty, Mr. Cornish.”
    Cornish brightened at the realization that he was going to be paid, even though he hadn’t been able to supply any useful information.
    “Thank you, Mr. London, sir. Much obliged. Sorry I couldn’t help you out a bit more. Glad you’re takin‘ an interest in what happened to poor old Maltby. Me and him was neighbors for a lotta years. Gonna miss him, even if he was half barmy.”
    Cornish made to close his door.
    “Wait, please,” Lydia said urgently. “I have one more question. Did Professor Maltby have any visitors recently? Say, in the past two or three days?”
    “Not that I seen.” Cornish paused, pondering. “Didn’t hear anyone knock on his door yesterday or the day before for that matter. But—”
    “Yes?” Lydia prompted.
    “Maltby went out the night before he took a little too much Chartreuse or whatever it was that really happened.” Cornish shifted slightly, one shoulder bunching in a shrug. “There was nothing unusual about that, though. Long as I knew him he went out two, sometimes three times a week, always at night.”
    “To buy his drugs?” Lydia asked.
    “Nah. Gone too long for that. Besides, he got his Chartreuse from the same guy who sells me—” Cornish stopped in midsentence, belatedly aware that he was about to implicate himself. “Uh, what I mean is, every-one around here knows that a Chartreuse buy don’t take more than about sixty seconds. Dealers don’t like to stand around chatting with the customers.”
    “How long did Maltby stay out at night?” Lydia asked.
    “Hours,”