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“Not our murderous elf so much as a link to Gilda.”

“Mathi’s Gilda?” I asked in surprise.

“We’re still checking, but I believe so. The description fits.”

“What sort of connection was there?”

“She worked for Afran Eadevane.”

Eadevane being the only dark elf line that had pale skin and were often mistaken for light elves despite their build and abilities with stone. “In what capacity?”

“Maid and bed companion, from what has been said. She was fired under suspicion of theft, but nothing was ever proven, and no charges ever laid.”

Which is probably why Mathi’s people had never found anything when he’d ordered a background check on her. “Firing someone surely wouldn’t be justification enough to destroy an entire building, though.”

“That often depends on state of mind and the statement the destruction is meant to make,” he said. “I’ve asked Sgott to check whether a violence report was placed against Afran. Apparently he had a history of abuse.”

“I doubt she would have. Ljósálfar royalty often treats the servant class as less-than-human.” It would, however, explain the revenge-seeking destruction.

“I know, but it pays to follow every lead, however unlikely it is to result in a satisfactory conclusion.”

“Was Afran one of the casualties in the building’s collapse?”

“No, although if he was our elf’s target—and at this point, he’s definitely a candidate—then for all intents and purposes, they would have believed him to be home.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Why?”

“His chauffeur drove the car into the underground parking?—”

“The building had underground parking?” I cut in. “Where?”

“Underground.”

Amusement ran through his tone, and I rolled my eyes. “Clever.”

He laughed. “We installed a car lift behind the building, accessible via the lane. You wouldn’t notice it if you didn’t know it was there.”

And I obviously hadn’t. “Who was in the car if not Afran?”

“A friend he’d rented the apartment to for the next two weeks. Afran is currently staying in the penthouse suite located next to his office in London.” He paused. “How did the trip to Swansea go?”

His tone was neutral—very carefully so, I suspected. “It was a mix of results. We retrieved the scroll Loudon purchased from Kaitlyn, but it was amongst a dozen others, so we’re currently going through them all.”

“We?”

“The usual suspects,” I said evenly. “But I think I know why you’re having no luck finding our red-haired elf. Lugh remembered kicking a green-eyed Myrkálfar elf out of my life when I was around twenty, and his name happened to be Halak, which is an anagram of Ka-hal. He couldn’t remember Halak having red hair, but it’s possible the color is an illusion to throw us off track. He came here from the Cloondeash area looking for work, apparently.”

“I’ll instigate a search. Halak is an unusual enough name, so if he worked for us, it should yield some results.”

“Hopefully.” I hesitated. “I’m likely to be at Lugh’s most of the night reading these damn scrolls, but would you like to catch up for breakfast tomorrow?”

“Café, your place, or mine?”

“Your place is wrecked, and mine isn’t practical.”

“We’ve worked with impractical before,” he replied, with a hint of a smile in his voice. “And I’ve other apartments, remember.”

“Liverpool is too far to drive for breakfast.”