by V. J. Timlin
Anouk and Nat leaned in to read the article Amanda was pointing at.
Body of a prostitute found in Flower Estate alley, said the headline. Under it was a grainy photograph of a woman. The quality was low, but Anouk recognised the girl—Shannah. Anouk’s blood turned to ice.
“Yes, she’s one of Madam Valeria’s girls.” Nat’s voice was almost inaudible.
“I thought they worked inside the premises and not on the street,” Amanda said.
Nat’s eyes met Anouk’s. “Yes. Madam Valeria doesn’t allow it.”
Anouk’s skin prickled. Could this be their much-hunted lead? “So there is something fishy going on at the brothel.”
“Aye,” Nat grunted, his face grim.
Chapter 19
The Communicator chirped on the table, causing Anouk’s heart to race. Earlier in the day, Nat had sent a message to Rose, asking where she was and if she could meet them. It was their turn to set a trap, he had said. This might be their chance to get Stalo—or at least get closer to him if Rose was co-operating with him as it now seemed. Was this her reply? Anouk licked her lips in anticipation as Nat pressed a button on the device.
“Let’s see what Rose suggests,” he muttered.
Anouk dropped her backpack on the floor and hurried to join Nat. She peered over his shoulder, but didn’t catch the message. “What did she say?”
“She wants to meet us at Vaughn’s Bakery at midnight.”
“Vaughn’s Bakery? Where’s that?”
“It’s at the border of The Pits and Flower Estate.”
“That’s conveniently located.” Anouk sniffed. “And an odd hour. Another trap?”
“Aye, and I’m a little insulted they’re being so obvious.” Nat sat at the table and started to type a message. “I’ll say we’ll be there.”
Anouk gaped at him. “What about our snooping gig around Madam Valeria’s brothel? We got a good, solid lead from Amanda. I think we should check it out before walking into another hastily set trap.”
Before Nat pressed the send button, the Communicator peeped again. His eyebrows shot up and he pressed a button to read the message. This time Anouk caught it too.
Trap.
“Did Rose just…” Anouk let her unfinished question hang in the air.
Nat nodded. “Warn us? Yes.”
“What’s going on?”
“Hard to say. Maybe the first message was the one she was told to send, but the second was from her.”
“Why would she risk herself and her girls by warning us? I’m sure the one who dictated the first message wouldn’t be thrilled about the second if he saw her sending it.”
Nat lifted his hands, turning his palms up. “Perhaps she’s trying to attract our attention so we’ll know what’s going on and come help them escape.”
Anouk touched her Phines at her waist. “In that case, we have to postpone our plans and go and help her.”
Nat typed his message again, hit the send button and faced Anouk. “We’re not cancelling our snooping. I want to check first what we can learn in Flower Estate before we go to Vaughn’s Bakery. The new lead is more likely to yield new information than going to another ambush.”
Anouk frowned at Nat. “But what if something happens to us and we can’t make it to the bakery on time? Stalo might order his men to hurt Rose or…” She swallowed. “…Valintina and Danja.”
“We have to take risks.” Nat added when Anouk opened her mouth to argue, “You can’t let what could happen dictate what you do. If you start, pretty soon you’re frozen.”
“Suppose you’re right,” Anouk grumbled.
“You don’t think our disguise will work?”
Anouk glanced at a package on her bed. There they were, their costumes, supplied by Amanda and wrapped in brown paper. Two dark suits favoured by working-class men—she had her reservations. “What if there are other rat-catchers around? Are they as territorial as the rats they hunt?” She shuddered. “Or what if someone actually asks us to catch a rat! Do you know how to do it? Because I don’t.”
“No one will ask for our services. It’s evening and everyone is busy seeking entertainment. So, no one raises an eyebrow if two rat-catchers snoop around dark alleys and backyards. That’s expected.”
“You really are getting the hang of the verb to snoop in its different forms,” Anouk said in a dry tone.
Nat grinned.
* * *
Anouk stayed right behind Nat as he navigated through the winding narrow streets. A metal, cage-like rat trap rocked back and forth on the strap of his backpack, making faint clinking sounds when it hit a buckle. As Nat had assured her, people didn’t give them a second look.
She had never seen a rat-catcher, but according to Vari and Fitzwil, she and Nat would pass. A black scarf under the top hat hid Nat’s unruly curls while a half-mask covered his mouth, hiding his features. Anouk had the same set of clothing and gear, except she wore a cap under which she had tucked her hair. From a distance, no one should be able to identify them—or so they hoped.
If someone offered them an assignment, Nat would wave a written order from the district council to clear the area of the rodents. It was forged, of course. Fitzwil’s handiwork. It would fool Anouk, but she wasn’t sure if it would fool the locals. Nat had chuckled at her question about this chance and said it was highly unlikely anyone would demand to see the document, let alone approach them in Flower Estate on their way to Madam Valeria’s, but it was good to have one just in case. Anouk sighed. Fingers crossed they wouldn’t come across a real, professional rat-catcher.
She scanned the surroundings, her heart pounding. Although no one paid any attention to them, her skin crawled—they were approaching enemy territory.
She brushed the side of her coat with her hand, touching the brand new Phines under it like a talisman. The weapon gave her the same sense of security as the katana. How silly she had been to hesitate about owning and carrying one. Her reasons had been based solely on her preconceptions and distant memories from childhood. She was an adult now, and her father hadn’t been part of her life for thirty years. Besides, she couldn’t have hidden her katana under her rat-catcher costume nor passed off the elegant blade as a tool of the trade.
Nat turned a corner and with long strides, he headed down another street. Soot-covered terraced buildings framed the lane. The tight-crammed houses were like the walls of an open sewer; noises of life echoed between them, forming a cacophonous symphony that wouldn’t ease until nightfall, an hour away.
Nat slowed his pace. “Keep your eye out,” he said over his shoulder and his voice barely audible.
Anouk nodded. The traffic grew busier, telling her they were nearing Roister Street.
Nat’s head turned from side to side like clockwork as he scanned the street. Anouk did the same, pretending to be searching for signs of rats. Initially, the thought of sighting those long-tailed rodents made her shudder in disgust. Now, though, she wasn’t sure which one she preferred, rats or confirmation of Madam Valeria cooperating with Stalo.
She tried to spot the same thing as Nat, a potential anomaly in the mass of people—something that could signify danger. In truth, all she saw was danger lurking in every face, carriage and wagon.
“I don’t think I make a very good bounty hunter. More of a paranoid one,” she muttered.
“Paranoia is good. Keeps you alive,” Nat said without taking his eyes off the crowd.
He stopped abruptly by a street corner, and Anouk almost bumped into his back. She gazed over his shoulder. Her stomach knotted. Madam Valeria’s brothel loomed across the street like the headquarters of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.
It was early evening, and the traffic in front of the premises was already busy. When Madam Valeria was this successful, why would she collaborate with Stalo? Anouk could think of one reason that might sway the madam on his side—the Gadget and coordinates to her world.
If it were up to Anouk, she would tip off Chi
ef Constable Loka, just in case, and let him raid the place. Cooperating with Stalo or not, that woman was doing something illegal, Anouk was sure of it, and the chief constable should know about. But alas, it did not work like that. So she glanced at Nat and asked, “What?”
Nat faced Anouk. “Let’s first check the alley where Shannah’s body was found.”
“By all means. As long as we move out of sight of that whorehouse. Lead the way.”
They walked past Madam Valeria’s brothel. Anouk studied the windows from under the brim of her cap; red curtains were drawn over them, but judging by the light sieving through, the life inside continued and business ran as usual. Were they mourning their murdered colleague? Anouk didn’t believe Madam Valeria would dwell on it too long. She appeared to be the kind of entrepreneur who put business first—always. Anouk gave a mental shrug. Guess that was why the place was so popular among the men from all levels of Rondon society. Well, at least among the men with money.
“Oi, you’ve no business here,” came an angry call behind them.
Anouk and Nat spun on their heels to meet the caller. A short, plump man glared at them, standing with his legs apart and his fists on his hips. He wore a similar dark suit as Anouk and Nat. His black top hat towered on his head like a chimney. A brown terrier at his feet bared its teeth, adding to the threat.
“This is my block.” The man lifted his dark bearded chin. “I’m Madam Valeria’s official rat-catcher. You’ve no business here.”
Oh, wonderful, so they were as territorial as the rodents they hunted.
Nat bowed without taking his hat off. “Good afternoon, my good man. We have an order from the district council to act in this area.”
The man narrowed his eyes into slits. “I wasn’t notified. I demand to see the paper.”
“Of course.” Nat nonchalantly produced the document from his pocket—the man snatched it and scrutinised it for long minutes. Anouk chewed her lips from behind her mask. She glanced around. They were just a few yards away from Madam Valeria’s doorstep, where an argument could draw unwanted attention. She looked back at the man again who held the paper only an inch from his nose.
After a small eternity, he tossed it back to Nat, a disgusted expression on his face. “I’ll make a complaint to Madam Valeria. She’ll sort out this outrageous coup.”
Anouk’s eyebrows flew up. A coup? Really?
“You do that. But till then, it’s goodbye.” Nat bowed again and started to walk away.
“This doesn’t end here. You’ll hear about this,” the man shouted after them. His terrier barked as if in agreement. A few passers-by looked between them and the man, with curious expressions. They needed to get out of sight as soon as possible.
Nat twisted his neck over his shoulder. “The rat-catcher is heading to the brothel.”
“Super,” Anouk growled.
“It’ll be a little while before they come for us. We’d better hurry.”
Nat hurried to the street corner and they came to an alley. The fading light didn’t reach the secluded area. The strong scent of piss hit Anouk’s nostrils and she wrinkled her nose. Excellent, they had found a local urinal.
Nat took a torch out of his pocket and switched it on. In its shaft of light, the alley appeared as any other—narrow and surrounded by high stone walls.
“Are you sure this is the right place?” The name of the lane had been in the newspaper, but she couldn’t see any street signs. Maybe it didn’t have one and not that this was the first without. In Rondon the street signs seemed to be randomly distributed. As if the traffic department had played darts with the Rondon map when deciding which streets and alleys would get a sign. There was no logic.
Nat swept the beam from side to side over the cobblestones like an intangible brush. He halted, took a couple of steps and knelt down. “Yes.”
Anouk walked over to see what he had found. Under the yellow light, splatters and larger stains of blood dried on the stones looked dark and disturbing… the crime scene. Anouk was visibly shaken and felt sickened to the core. Poor girl… She staggered a couple of steps back and tore her gaze away from the stains.
Nat came to her side and put his hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright?”
Anouk nodded. “Yes, I’m fine. Just needed some air. That’s all.”
He gave her a gentle squeeze. “Do you want to leave?”
Yes. This place gave her the creeps and it stunk. She cleared her throat and straightened, then shook her head. “No. It’s connected to Madam Valeria, so yeah, we better check this lead.”
Nat grunted in acknowledgement and studied the alley. “This is a perfect place to meet in secret and commit a murder without too big of a risk of being overseen.”
He was right. The alley was along a busy street, but a narrow extension of a building made the alley a secluded dead end. A veritable nook hidden from prying eyes.
“She was killed here?” In the newspaper, there was no mention if Shannah had been murdered there or if her body had just been dumped there.
“Hard to tell,” Nat mused. “Perhaps she was dragged here or lured, using some excuse.”
The thought of a murder possibly happening in the alley just a day or two earlier made Anouk’s skin crawl.
A screech cut the air. Anouk started back, fumbling for her pistol. Angry curses drifted from the street.
“Fucking blind bat, look where ya goin’.”
She closed her eyes, forcing herself to breathe slowly. There was no danger. She was armed and a bounty hunter, goddammit. Feeling a tad more centred, Anouk opened her eyes.
Nat was kneeling again next to the blood-covered stones. He moved his torch back and forth with slow sweeps, stopping once in a while to examine a spot.
“Seeing anything special?”
Nat didn’t reply for a moment. He stood and let the beam of light brush the walls. “No.” He took a step towards Anouk. A series of metallic clicks echoed in the alley.
“What was that? Did you kick something?”
“Aye,” Nat grunted. Something flashed when the shaft of light moved over the cobblestones a few feet from where Anouk was standing, Nat bent down to pick it up.
Anouk leaned over Nat. “What is it?”
He held a small, button-like object in his hand that gleamed golden.
“A cufflink.”
“The murderer’s?”
Nat turned the bauble. “Mmm, maybe. There’s no carving on it.”
“So basically, it could belong to anyone.”
“Yes, although I think this is gold and not brass which means whoever lost it has a bit of money.”
“You know Madam Valeria. Would she look the other way if the killer was a noble born?”
“Madam Valeria usually is very adamant that girls are not allowed to come to harm. That’s why she has no problem finding new girls to work for her.” Nat paused and looked at the cufflink again.
“Alright, for the sake of argument, let’s say the murderer left that behind. In that case it could mean he, or she, was in a hurry, or flustered,” Anouk said. “Maybe someone heard Shannah’s screams which means there might be a witness. And if Shannah put up a fight, the assailant might have been wounded. In which case we should check the nearby hospitals.”
“I don’t think…” Nat snapped his hand closed around the cufflink.
Footfall came from the mouth to the alley. Anouk’s heart leaped into her throat. Were the rat-catcher and Madam Valeria’s men already coming? Nat switched off his torch.
“Come.” He took Anouk by her arm. “There is a ladder to the rooftop.”
They tiptoed towards the low building that cut the alley in half. The footsteps at the mouth halted. Anouk touched her Phines with her clammy hands. Had they been heard?
They reached the ladder.
“Go,” Nat whispered. “I’ll watch your back.”
Anouk bobbed her head and climbed as fast and quietly as she could. Footfall echoed again when s
he reached the roof. Nat followed right after her. They lay flat, looking down at the alley. For a while they saw nothing, nor did they hear any more footsteps. Had the rat-catcher and the madam’s men changed their mind? Anouk allowed a soft sigh of relief to escape her lips. Maybe it was a false alarm, just someone who needed to pee. After all, the alley seemed to be one big urinal, based on the sharp stink.
No, the steps echoed again. This time more softly and advancing further into the alley. Anouk lowered her head. They should be fine as long as they didn’t make any noise. A shaft of light flickered in the alley. Anouk frowned. Had Madam Valeria sent only one person to look for them? It scanned the surface of the cobblestones as if looking for something. Anouk narrowed her eyes. Or was he the murderer or his servant? Darkening evening made it impossible to see who the person was, but the figure against the moving light looked slight. A woman? Or young boy? One thing was sure, he or she wasn’t there for Anouk and Nat, but for the cufflink.
If the cufflink indeed belonged to the murderer, the bastard had sent his servant to remove the evidence. Didn’t have the balls to do it himself. Typical rich asshole.
Nat whispered into her ear. “Either a child or a woman.”
“A servant?” Anouk whispered back.
“Most likely. I’ll capture her. Watch my back.” Nat turned to crawl to the ladder, but Anouk grabbed his hand. “What?”
Anouk hesitated. “Supposing she has a gun or something? She might not be that harmless.”
“That’s why I asked you to watch my back. We can’t let her escape before we have spoken to her. She might know something about the murder.”
“Alright, but be careful,” Anouk whispered before letting go of Nat’s hand.
She pulled her Phines. This was it. The time to test her guts to use it but she wasn’t happy about it. She directed the shaking barrel towards the moving figure.