by Helen Goltz
She dabbed the white lace onto his skinned knuckles and secured the lace handkerchief around his thumb where a cut continued to bleed.
‘Thank you,’ he said.
Matilda studied his face and blackening eye. ‘Why did you take the brunt of it? Where was Daniel?’
‘I was trying to arrest the man, so I met his fists first. Besides, it is best if Daniel preserves his hands for his occupation.’
‘Is the man you arrested the murderer?’ she asked.
‘I am not giving you a headline for your newspaper, Matilda,’ Thomas answered.
‘Well, I’ll remember that next time I find out some information and give it to you first and foremost,’ she said.
‘And I thought you shared that with me to help my career along as a close friend and a good citizen,’ Thomas said, watching her, a hint of amusement in his eyes.
‘No,’ she answered bluntly.
Thomas laughed, shook his head and looked out of the hansom cab window. She always managed to disarm him.
Matilda continued. ‘I told you the information I knew hoping to get a murderer off the street,’ she said and catching his eye, smiled. ‘And to help you advance I suppose.’
Thomas grinned.
‘Besides, I don’t write for a daily newspaper, Thomas, in case you have forgotten, so your headline will be of no advantage to myself and Mrs Lawson.’
‘Ah, right then,’ he continued to tease her in the fashion that he had done for well over two decades. ‘So, you don’t want some insider information?’ he asked, as she sat back, having released both his hands and had begun rummaging through her handbag.
‘Well, I wouldn’t say no,’ Matilda said. ‘Who was he?’
‘We don’t know yet,’ Thomas answered and saw the disbelief cross her face. ‘No, that’s the truth. He was seen with Mrs Wilks, so I want to know why.’
‘Odd.’
‘Indeed,’ Thomas agreed.
‘Here it is,’ Matilda exclaimed, and pulled out another white lace handkerchief and a small wrapper of ointment. She studied his face again. ‘How is the eye?’ It was black and red and looked terrible.
‘It’s fine,’ he said stoically.
Matilda reached for her throat, running her hand down to her neck muscles, and gently touched the bruises that had now almost faded underneath her dress collar. Thomas’s gaze followed her hand.
‘I know for a fact, Thomas, how much a good hit can hurt.’
‘Well then, it is painful,’ he conceded.
She gave him a sympathetic look and opened a small paper wrapper. ‘Allow me.’
‘What on earth is that?’ he said, objecting to the dark cure-all stick and its smell.
‘You should know,’ Matilda said, turning the paper wrapper towards him so he could read it – Bates’ Salve. ‘Harriet put it on every bump and scrape that you and Daniel had growing up. It has many good properties which I could recite to you, but better still, close your eye.’
He grimaced.
‘I won’t get any in your eye, it’s supposed to go on the broken flesh around it. It numbs the area and stops the infection.’
‘Why on earth are you carrying it around with you, and what else have you got in there?’ Thomas nodded at her handbag, which resembled a small doctor’s bag in shape and design.
Matilda clamped her bag shut and removed one of her gloves. Thomas’s eyes widened in surprise.
‘Harriet made me carry it around in case my neck and throat became painful, so I could dab a little on.’ She placed her gloves in her lap and looked up at him to administer the ointment.
Thomas looked unconvinced. Matilda sighed and put her hands in her lap, giving him an impatient look.
‘Fine,’ he said, and closed his eyes, waiting for her touch. ‘Just be careful you don’t poke me in the eye every time we hit a bump.’
‘Then keep still,’ she said. ‘Lean right up against the edge.’
He did so and waited; momentarily he felt her gentle touch as she dabbed the ointment around his eye. Thomas swallowed, she was too close, it was too intimate. He didn’t dare open his eyes, but he could feel the skin of her fingers on his flesh, feel her warm breath upon his face. He was inches from kissing her.
‘There,’ she said, and just in time as the hansom jerked to a halt, pushing them closer together. Thomas opened his eyes and helped straighten Matilda back in her seat.
‘Thank you.’
‘You’re very welcome,’ she said with a satisfied smile.
The cabman had leapt down from his higher seat and appeared at their door. Matilda wiped her fingers on her handkerchief and put on her glove.
‘Right, your stop, Matilda,’ Thomas said and alighted to assist her.
She stepped down capably and thanked Thomas and the cabman.
‘I’ll walk you inside,’ Thomas said, glancing up the pathway to the house as the front door opened.
‘No need, there’s Harriet,’ Matilda said with a wave and a smile to her housekeeper at the ajar front door. ‘Perhaps you should come in and let us both clean you up and ply you with tea.’
‘As tempting as that is, I’ll be fine,’ he said, with a nod to Harriet, he re-entered the hansom. He was in pain, exhausted and dirty, and did not want to make it harder for himself to leave in an hour or so.
‘Goodnight Thomas.’
‘Matilda,’ he said and watched her until she reached the front door. He tapped the roof for the cabman to depart. He glanced back to see Matilda watching after him. Thomas sat back and sighed, sore, tired and frustrated as he often was after an encounter with Miss Hayward.
On the way home he imagined coming home to her every night, her face the last he saw of an evening and the first in the morning, her small, warm body next to his. Agony.
Chapter 36
As they shared tea and cake at Bowen’s Tearoom, Matilda finished telling Alice all about her adventures last night at the bookstore and then running into Daniel and Thomas on her journey home.
‘Goodness, the Gallery Exhibition Saturday evening will be quite dull for the three of you after last night,’ Alice said. ‘Perhaps we should go back to Fortitude Valley with Daniel and Thomas.’
Matilda laughed. ‘I am sure they will be quite happy with an uneventful night, but I am not sure Thomas will be welcome at the gallery with a black eye. I must ask Gideon will it be a concern for his patrons. Thomas was angry when he saw the route the cabman had taken me.’
‘Of course he was,’ Alice said. ‘He’s very protective of you.’ She lifted the dainty teacup, sipped and returned it to the saucer before stabbing her fork with anticipation into a beautiful jam sponge dessert.
‘I have to say,’ Matilda began, lowering her voice, ‘it felt strangely comfortable caring for Thomas last night, as a wife might should he return from duties needing attention. I couldn’t sleep for thinking of him.’
Alice gushed, ‘That’s wonderful, Matilda.’ She squeezed Matilda’s hand.
‘It’s odd is what it is.’
‘Why?’
Matilda finished a mouthful of her sponge cake and said, ‘Because it is Thomas. I have grown up with him. He has pushed me into creeks, thrown bugs at me, beaten me at races – and been most angry when I’ve beaten him – we’ve fought like brother and sister and now…’
‘Now?’
‘Well, it is fair to say there is an attraction. But yet he did not want to come in for a cup of tea last night or to allow Harriet and me to fuss over him. I think sometimes he is pleased to have me off his hands and he finds me a duty.’
Alice scoffed. ‘He is in love with you, Matilda, and I am sure you feel the same, if you let yourself admit it. I envy you; I want to be loved and love.’
Matilda looked surprised. ‘But I thought you wanted a career first.’
‘I want both,’ Alice said, finishing her slice of cake and declaring it, ‘light and delicious.’
‘Indeed,’ Matilda agreed.
Alice continued. ‘My father wants me to marry his oldest friend’s son, Joseph. He said we had been promised to each other at birth. Well, not me and I’m sure Joseph feels the same, we have nothing in common and no attraction to each other.’
‘Is that why you are here?’ Matilda asked. They stopped to admire a lady going past in a fashionable hat.
‘Yes. I told my father that I had a calling and was going to join a nunnery.’
Matilda’s jaw fell open.
‘He was furious, but my mother was thrilled. So I negotiated with him that I would have a year in Australia with my guardian to see if perhaps I could fall in love instead of becoming a nun.’ She laughed.
‘Alice, you are positively wicked and brilliant,’ Matilda said.
‘A girl must do what a girl must do. We have so few options available to us, but there are ways to get around them.’
Matilda looked at her new friend with great admiration. They accepted a fresh pot of tea and Matilda poured.
‘Do you think you might like my brother? I won’t be offended if you feel you are unsuited.’ Matilda held her breath, hoping for a positive response.
‘I like them all,’ Alice assured her and laughed at seeing Matilda’s expression. She clarified. ‘What is not to like about Daniel? He’s handsome and lively, talented and charming, very much like you.’
Matilda blushed, unused to taking compliments.
‘Thank you, Alice. Oh, imagine if we were sisters-in-law, wouldn’t that be exciting,’ she said.
‘You, me and Minnie, and whoever else comes along. You will have four of them.’ Alice lowered her voice and leaned forward slightly. ‘Tell me, what prevents you from loving the detective?’
Matilda sighed and placed her cup back on her saucer. ‘I guess I have loved him like a brother, like my fifth brother for so long, that should I change our relationship to more and we fall out, I will lose him forever.’
‘But you might have him forever. How would you feel about someone else being his wife?’
Matilda’s breath hitched. ‘Well, when you put it like that…’
*****
Thomas expected and endured the remarks from his colleagues as he walked along the second floor of the Roma Street Police Barracks en route to the stairwell, and the cells below on the first floor. He looked as if he had done ten rounds in a boxing ring but assured his colleagues that he was fine and won the battle, despite the throbbing eye and bruised face.
‘You did well, Thom, bringing him in.’ Detective Harry Dart slapped his partner’s shoulder as they walked towards the interview rooms to talk with the Russian boxer. ‘I feel terrible that I was dining on your nephew’s cooking and enjoying the bookstore while you were fighting for justice.’
Thomas smiled at his partner. ‘I think you’ve paid your dues many a time.’
They entered the interview room to find the boxer – sullen, sitting with his arms crossed and glaring at them.
‘You have no right to hold me overnight for fighting when you started it,’ he said, his accent thick.
‘Requesting that you accompany me to the police station for some questions is not starting a fight nor an invitation to one,’ Thomas said and sat opposite the man.
The Russian laughed when he saw Thomas’s face. ‘Who are you both, what do you want?’
Harry answered. ‘Detective Dart and Detective Ashdown, and you are?’
‘You should know that if you arrested me.’
‘You haven’t been arrested yet,’ Thomas answered.
‘So I can leave?’
‘No. Your name?’ Thomas asked, exasperated.
The Russian drew a long breath, cracked the knuckles on his hands and then spat the words out, ‘Georgievich Melnikoff.’
‘Write that down, plus your address,’ Harry said, pushing a notepad and pencil to the boxer.
‘And what was your business with Mrs Irina Wilks at the Freak Show?’ Thomas asked.
The question caught the Russian by surprise. He sat back; his eyebrows raised as he stared at the detectives.
‘Wilks? The woman at the Freak Show? That’s why I’m here? Not illegal boxing?’
‘That’s why you are here,’ Detective Dart said.
The Russian’s countenance changed; he ran a hand over his mouth, he glanced towards the exit and then he ran his tongue over his lower lip.
‘We’re not waiting for you to invent an answer. Why did you meet with her?’ Thomas continued.
He shrugged. ‘She had some work for me, around the show.’
‘Go on,’ Thomas prompted him, relieved the Russian had admitted the acquaintance, and he didn’t have to get Teddy in to identify him.
‘Manual work.’
‘Is that so? Odd when she has a crew on hand. How much did she pay you for this work? And before you say you did it out of the goodness of your heart, we have witnesses who saw you accepting money from her.’ Thomas embellished the truth as Teddy saw him accept something from Mrs Wilks but couldn’t be sure it was money.
‘A small amount for odd jobs.’
‘How did you meet her?’ Harry asked.
‘The Russian community always welcomes people when they come to town. I met her at the Russian Centre. It is a small community, but we extend a welcome to all with our heritage,’ he said proudly.
Detective Dart stood. ‘We have Mrs Wilks in another room so we will need you to wait here until we ask her the same questions.’
The Russian sat back, bluffing that he was fine with them doing so, and crossed his arms across his chest again. Thomas rose and the two men departed. They stopped outside to glance back at him through the small window that the room afforded. He was worried – the bravado had departed from his countenance.
‘How do you want to play this?’ Harry asked as he and Thomas walked towards the room where Mrs Wilks was being held.
‘She’s shrewd,’ Thomas said, ‘and she will know that the boxer will not go to gaol for her unless they have a history or are family. According to the boxer, they have neither.’
‘Now that we have his name, give me five minutes while you get Mrs Wilks upstairs to the interview room and I’ll see if he has a record for anything,’ Harry said, and turned off, taking the stairs back up to the records department.
Thomas went and got himself a cup of tea while he waited. He’d felt better – his eye ached and his head throbbed – but the thought of his time in the hansom with Matilda last night and the promise of the gallery event this weekend was cheering him up no end. Luckily, Teddy appeared to have withdrawn any interest in Matilda… he’s a quick learner, Thomas thought.
Harry was back before he had finished and with a shake of his head confirmed, ‘there’s no file for him here at this station, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t been involved in something elsewhere – in other colonies or overseas,’ he said.
‘Right, let’s get this over with,’ Thomas said and, after tipping out the remains of his tea, followed Harry to the interview room to press Mrs Wilks for answers.
Chapter 37
Despite the fact that Matilda had ventured to the Freak Show on her own recently, today she was working under the guise of the Women’s Journal, thus she travelled with Alice as they promised Mrs Lawson. Matilda and Alice were visiting the giantess, Anna, to drop in the latest issue of the magazine featuring the profile piece and Amos’s bill for his services. It was also a good opportunity to stop, rest and take tea; Matilda was not expecting her visit to be dangerous. As Matilda sat opposite the two very different ladies, she could not help being amazed at her two new, independent and fascinating friends.
‘We’ve received a wonderful response to our interviews and story about yourself and the ladies of the Exhibition,’ Alice said.
‘Most sympathetic and supportive,’ Matilda agreed.
Anna smiled with pleasure. Matilda could tell she was
a little uncomfortable in the company of two smaller and dainty ladies, and she did her best to relax her, but Alice soon put Anna at ease.
‘You are far more patient than me, Anna,’ she said, addressing Mrs Tufton informally, as she had been invited to do so. ‘I’m sure I would have crushed several of those men just because they could leave and be independent and we struggle for the same right.’
Anna chuckled. ‘I confess there were a few gentlemen that I would have liked to have done that to, but I didn’t have the fortune of lifting them during my show.’
Matilda smiled at her friend.
‘You’re too kind-hearted for that, Anna, you don’t fool me.’
Anna blushed, uncomfortable with kindness. She returned to tending the kettle as Alice placed an apple tea cake that she had baked on the small table.
‘That looks delicious!’ Matilda exclaimed.
Alice smiled. ‘I do have some womanly skills, Mother insisted.’
‘Goodness, look,’ the giantess said, pausing in the tea making for her guests.
The young ladies rushed to join her at the window.
Detectives Thomas Ashdown and Harry Dart, flanked by half a dozen policemen in uniform, were approaching the Exhibition.
‘There’s Mr Wilks,’ Anna exclaimed as the business manager and heir of the Freak Show emerged from the tent to meet them.
‘He seems nervous,’ Alice said, and they watched Mr Wilks glance around before he moved back inside the big tent. Moments later he appeared again with his wife, Irina – only released from police questioning earlier that morning. It was nearing ten o’clock, thirty minutes before the Exhibition was due to open in its last week – if they were allowed to pack and leave, which was still very much at the mercy of the police. Fortunately, at that hour there were few members of the public present, many scared away by the recent murders.