Besides, I had a feeling I wouldn't like the answer.
He disappeared and I watched the space where he'd been for a long time until George's polite cough drew my attention.
He held out his arm. "Shall we wait outside?"
***
During the carriage ride to Clerkenwell, I told George everything that had transpired that night. From the light cast by the lamps mounted outside the windows I could just see the grave set of his face and the frown settling above his spectacles.
"So now we must speak to Blunt to find out once and for all how he is involved," I said. "And to find out where Finch lives."
He reached under the seat and removed a box. I recognized it as the one he'd brought with him the last time we visited Blunt. The one with the pistol inside.
We arrived at the school shortly after that. George took one of the carriage lamps and left the other for the driver. Together we tried the front door. It was unlocked, as Jacob had promised. I hesitated and glanced at George. He looked pale in the gaslight, a trickle of sweat trailing down his temple despite the coolness of the air. "I think it best if Jacob deals with Blunt first," I said. "If his methods fail then you should use that." We both looked down at the pistol. He tucked it beneath his cloak and nodded. A slight color returned to his cheeks. Whatever he was, he was not a coward. Fear did not make someone cowardly; allowing that fear to stop them taking appropriate action, did.
He followed me into the school, down the corridor, towards a sliver of light peeping out from underneath the door next to Blunt's office. Noises came from the other side -wood splintering, glass shattering, objects landing with thuds. Blunt's voice over them all, pleading. "Stop! Please, stop. Don't hurt me. Please." Jacob had started without us.
I ran to the door but George overtook me. "Wait," I hissed. "Wait out here." He looked like he wanted to disagree. "Just give me a moment," I said. "I'll try to calm Jacob first. You wait here to-."
"But Emily-."
"I'll be fine, George. Jacob will protect me and we need you as our surprise. If Blunt doesn't confess then you can come in and use whatever means at your disposal. I couldn't bear it if that pistol went off by accident."
I didn't wait for his answer but entered the room and was surprised to see it wasn't another office but a bedroom. Two candles flickering on the mantelpiece provided a little light, illuminating a mess. Someone sat in the big bed, the covers pulled over their head. Blunt. Jacob stood near the window, the broken leg of a stool in his hand. The rest of the stool lay on the floor in pieces along with torn sheets, clumps of wool from a pillow, shards of a mirror and various other oddments.