Fury settled her gaze on what Flint placed before her on the table. Her book. With the heart, the guts ripped from it. Not just a great deal of what she'd recorded, but the proof of it all too. Notes, statements. Malmesbury must have a quite a lot on all those she had kept tabs on.

Lucky him.

But it would be an act of unprecedented folly to say is this all? and scratch Flint's eyes out. She hadn't swept in here on the toes she'd decided to keep the loss of the book was ...