by Kate Parker
I ran out of the house and down the steps to the automobile. My father drove us over to my shop at breakneck speed, frightening horses pulling carriages as we passed them with a roar.
I gathered up what I needed from our flat for my role in freeing Uncle Thomas. Then I added the little gold box that I needed to give to James to my bag. Noah wasn’t happy about my planned return to the Marlowe Club, but he wished me and the Gates family well. I told him not to wait up.
Then we drove back to my grandparents’ home. Gran was waiting with Garrett, Tommy, and the rest of the family.
“We followed them to the West End. To a club in Mayfair. They took him through a back door into the basement,” Garrett told us.
“We’ll need to break in the back way and get him out,” Uncle Wilbur said.
“I’ve been in there once. An assault won’t get you in or free Uncle Thomas. We’ll need a diversion. Maybe two.” I’d been quiet on the ride back, thinking. Now I laid out my plan.
Grandfather, who knew more about timing than I did, made some corrections and one very big addition. Then we all scattered to dress for our assault on the Marlowe Club.
Gran helped me dress for the part of a wealthy heiress and did my hair. As a final touch, she pulled out a diamond and blue sapphire necklace and earrings.
“No, it’s too dangerous,” I told her. “I might lose them. They must have cost the earth.”
“Don’t worry about that, Emily. The important thing is to get Tom freed without any of you getting hurt. And as your grandfather says, carrying out a con requires looking and acting the part. Now, do us all proud.” She gave me a wide smile.
“Yes, ma’am.” I couldn’t fail her. Not when she was counting on me.
I walked out to the drawing room to whistles and applause. My father looked particularly proud, which annoyed me. Why couldn’t he have been there when I was alone after my mother died, trying to nurse Matthew through his illness and running the millinery shop at the same time?
Some of my cousins were dressed in black from their hoods to their shoes. My grandfather and my cousin Joe, who had Grandfather’s elegant looks, were dressed in evening jackets and white tie. Gran straightened ties and tucked in hoods.
“Zach,” Grandfather asked the youngest of my “working” cousins, “are you ready to deliver this message to Scotland Yard? Into the hands of Detective Inspector Russell and him alone?”
The boy stood up straight and puffed out his scrawny chest. “Yes, sir.”
“Good lad. You may have the most important role of the night.”
Grandfather might think getting James and the police involved with rescuing Uncle Thomas was a good idea, but I was afraid it would end any friendship between the detective and me.
It had been decided Grandfather, Cousin Joe, and I would go in the front door as newly arrived visitors from Canada, where we made our fortune in timber. Our other cousins, led by Uncle Wilbur, would go in the back when we created the diversion. My father would drive us in style up to the front of the club.
The first step went according to plan, except for a horse pulling a hansom cab rearing and nearly turning over the cab as we approached in our noisy motor-car on a particularly dark street. Then, as soon as my father dropped us off, the automobile engine died. My father then began the laborious task of tinkering with what was reputedly a temperamental contraption, drawing the eyes of the doorman to him and the car, and away from the inside of the club.
My grandfather glanced around as he began his old man act, introducing his grandchildren to the city of his youth. Joe and I did our best to look awed at our surroundings while locating the exits, searching for the best place to cause a loud distraction, and any possible way down to the basement.
Having been inside once, I signaled the location of Lucky Marlowe’s office with a nod. It was important he not see us. Marlowe would recognize Grandfather and me, which would destroy any possibility of surprise.
The entire ground floor was decorated in red brocade, and there were tables for all sorts of gaming in every room. A huge bar was set up in the second room with an average-sized bartender. The waiters, however, all appeared to be weight lifters, despite their evening attire.
We each took a flute of champagne and began to mingle with the other “guests.”
A couple of young women in gowns that showed their assets circulated the rooms. One of them latched on to Joe, making him appear to be flustered. I knew it was because he was supposed to be part of a caper. At least, I hoped he wasn’t having his attention drawn elsewhere.
I was across the room from Joe and had lost sight of Grandfather when Lady Westkirk came out of Marlowe’s office carrying a satchel. I had to make sure she didn’t see me, since I was the only one of the family she would recognize.
Appearing to wander around a craps table, I stood behind the largest man there and peeked out from around his shoulder.
At that moment, Grandfather walked into the room and glanced around. When his gaze fell on Lady Westkirk, he froze.
She looked at him, took a step back, and then hurried to a doorway near the bar. I guessed it led downstairs.
Grandfather mouthed “Marlowe’s Italian girl.”
My cousins might not yet be ready to act, but we had to put our plan into action. My uncle’s life depended on it.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I threw my champagne flute into the air in the direction of the gaming table and I screamed. The bubbly liquid spilled on a lady in a green silk gown who cried out nearly as loudly in shock and dismay before the glass landed on the felt covering on the table as I bellowed “Rat” at the top of my lungs.
Women, holding up their hems, screamed and hopped around, getting in the way of the waiters who were trying to find and eliminate the beast. Men began to hustle their wives or girlfriends out of the room, getting in the way of each other.
Somewhere I heard a car horn blast. A-oo-gah. A-oo-gah.
I dashed to the door Lady Westkirk had entered, my grandfather behind me. It led down a dark wooden stairway, but I could see faint light at the bottom.
As I reached the bottom, I heard shouting from my left. I ran forward and shoved open the wooden door at the end of the hall. It stopped after only moving a foot.
Then it swung the rest of the way open and I found myself looking down the barrel of a gun. As I started to raise my hands, the man holding the gun sank to the floor. I found myself facing one of my masked cousins, holding a coal shovel.
He swung back into the fight as I grabbed the gun off the floor and stepped into the melee. My cousins were dressed alike in black with hoods that covered their noses and mouths. They were used to working together in crowded quarters and poor lighting. I didn’t ask, but I suspected it came from doing burglaries.
They battled Jeb Marlowe and several of his employees. My grandfather pushed past me into the room, saying, “Hold on to the gun,” as he passed. One of my cousins freed Uncle Thomas, who had a bloody nose and cuts but otherwise looked all right, while all around them men fought.
Uncle Thomas jumped into the fray as I heard a noise behind me. I turned to find Lady Westkirk carrying a satchel and tiptoeing toward the stairs. “Stop right there.”
She smirked at me. “You wouldn’t use that. The Gates clan doesn’t believe in hurting people.”
“While you’ve killed how many?”
She gave me a saucy smile. “It doesn’t matter. They shouldn’t have stood in my way.”
She turned and ran up the stairs. I followed as quickly as I could, holding the gun in one hand and my skirts in the other. I reached the top in time to see her wallop Joe with the satchel and then run past him. The hold-all gave a rattle as she swung it through the air and a clank when it connected with my cousin’s face. Barely glancing at Joe as he struggled to regain his wits and his feet, I went after her.
The ground floor of the gaming club was empty as she ran up to the first floor with me on her heels. As she hurri
ed up, I reached for her and she kicked me. I lost my balance and tumbled down the steps.
Fortunately, I landed in a heap on a thick Persian carpet. Joe had disappeared and there were sounds coming from Lucky Marlowe’s office. Leaving that to Joe, I rushed up the stairs again to check every room on the first floor, clutching the gun.
I found no one as I gasped to catch my breath. My gown was designed for a fashionably thin waist and Gran had pulled my corset as tight as she could, making it hard to breathe. Neither of us had expected me to be as active as I’d been tonight.
I passed bedroom after bedroom of red flocked wallpaper, red velvet curtains, and unmade beds with sheets in a tangle as if they had been abandoned in a hurry. Here and there was a forgotten item of clothing.
I heard a squeak over my head and I took off running up another flight of stairs. These rooms weren’t as luxurious. Red was still the dominant color, but the mattresses and the carpets weren’t as thick. Curtains and bed covers were smoke stained and threadbare and the tangled sheets looked gray.
I walked into one of the rooms. Running footsteps below in the alley attracted my attention and I walked over to look out the window. The people below were only shadows. As my cousins would appear in their black outfits.
The door shut behind me.
I turned, pointing the gun with my finger on the trigger.
“Oh, Miss Gates,” Lady Westkirk said, holding a revolver of her own with more assurance than I could muster, “do put that gun down before you hurt yourself.”
“After you.”
“I think not.”
“Where did you learn to handle a revolver?” I asked. Anything for a distraction.
“On the London docks. It’s a handy skill. One you should learn.”
“You came up here for your luggage?” A trunk sat near her along the wall.
“It was a good place to store it until we were ready to leave.”
“You and Jeb.” We were still aiming our guns at each other. I hoped if she kept talking, she wouldn’t shoot. I hoped someone would come upstairs and grab her from behind. I hoped tomorrow would find me alive.
“Yes. We were planning to quietly leave after the club shut down tonight. Instead, the help has run off in all the excitement. Now I don’t know how I’ll get my trunk to the ship.”
I felt no sympathy for her and her problem of moving her wardrobe to Australia. “Why did Jeb Marlowe tell me he was leaving with Roxanne? He sounded very convincing.”
Lady Westkirk smiled. It was frigid. Cruel. “Jeb’s always been a good actor. We didn’t want anyone to link us together. It would make leaving that much easier if my husband and his cursed son didn’t know. And Australia is far enough away for us to disappear.”
“Why do you want to disappear?”
“It beats hanging. Now, get on your knees before I have to shoot them out from under you.”
The click of the hammer cocking made me decide she meant it. As I was lowering myself, she grabbed the gun I held. Then she tore down the drapery ties and began to tie me up in them.
This was one of the many games my cousins and I played as children at my grandparents’ house. If you hold your hands and wrists just right, you can slip the bonds right off.
She pulled the drapery ties tight, not realizing it made no difference. As soon as I moved, I’d be free.
“What really happened to Lady Abbott?”
“Poor little innocent Victoria. And she was an innocent, even though she was looking for excitement. She and that lump of a husband of hers. He might have been big and handsome, but he was totally useless when she needed him. That night, Theo and I both got into bed with her. She got frightened and started to scream. Theo shut her up immediately, but then we had to get rid of the body.”
I felt ill. How could she be so indifferent to the murder of a girl right in front of her?
“Jeb and Theo moved her down the back stairs to where the carriages were parked. And so began the famous carriage race.”
“Jeb and Theo drove?”
“No, Theo and I did. Later, Jeb came to the park and helped me unhitch the horses and flip over the carriage.”
I had thought Lord Theo Hughes was terrible, but this woman in front of me made me think she was just as bad, if not worse. The world would have been a better place if Lord Theo and Lady Westkirk had never met. “Anyone accustomed to carriage races could have tried to run me down near the Marlowe Club on my first visit.”
“You need to learn to move faster.”
I looked over my shoulder to see her gloat. I needed to keep her talking. “What role did Lord Armstrong play? Is he part owner of the Marlowe Club?”
“Haven’t you figured it out? Armstrong’s the one with the contacts to get all the magic dust we want. That’s how he’s now full owner of the Marlowe Club and we have the money to get out of town.” I heard her move to the window to check the alley below. Before I could act, she was back, pulling on my bonds.
Magic dust? “You mean cocaine?”
“Of course. Lady A keeps him on a tight leash, so he takes care of others’ needs in order to build his own fortune.”
“And the monarchy says they’re above trade. Hmmpf. They’re just like us.” Could I get her on my side?
“There is no ‘us.’ You’re a plodding, boring, middle-class shop owner. I’m a free spirit. I take what I want.” She gave a final tug on my bonds and stepped around me, still pointing the gun at me.
“What good did it do you to kill Lady Theo?”
“Lady Theo? Hah. Roxanne suited her much better. Jeb, fool that he is, told her all our plans. They were friends. He liked her. Fool. Stupid, stupid fool. If we didn’t want to be followed to Australia and brought back in chains, she had to be silenced.”
“Why did you take off her clothes and leave her outside in her bare feet?” It made no sense to me.
“To shame her. She was so proud of her clothes and her looks. It was so important to her. She’d have been embarrassed. Served her right.” She pointed the gun in my face. “She was a bothersome little wench. Like you.”
I had to move fast. I slipped out of my ties, grabbed the gun and her hand, and swung it around away from me.
The gun went off with a thunderous sound. The room smelled of burned fabric. In shock, I loosened my grip and she swung the gun back toward me as she stepped back.
“Now you’re gonna pay.”
The door began to open behind her. I hoped it was the police, Lady Kaldaire, my cousins. Anybody. I started to shake as my breath caught in my throat.
It was Jeb Marlowe.
“We need to get out of here. Now,” he told her in a tone both demanding and panicked.
She never took her eyes off me. “Clean out the safe and meet me in the alley. The carriage is waiting.” When he didn’t move, she added, “Hurry.”
“Lock her in and let’s go.”
“That’s not smart.” Her voice was cold.
“Do you want to hang? We don’t want to leave any bodies here or the police will follow us the whole way to Australia.”
“What about your friend Tom?”
“His family freed him.”
Thank goodness Uncle Thomas was safe.
“You incompetent fool.” Her scorn showed in her voice.
When she didn’t move, he said, “Get going. That shot you fired woke up the neighborhood. The police are bound to find our carriage at any moment.”
“What about my trunk?”
“Forget it. You can buy anything you want in Australia. We need to leave now.”
He grabbed her arm without the gun. She tried to pull away, but he dragged her out the door. A second later, I heard a key in the lock.
Another game my cousins and I played with our grandfather. I had the door unlocked in about three seconds, thanks to a hairpin. When I heard footsteps on the stairs, I went out in the hall to follow them.
Staying to the side of the hall and then the stairs to avoid
squeaking boards, I listened as Jeb said, “I’ll clean out the office and meet you in the alley in a couple of minutes.”
Two sets of footsteps went off in different directions. I followed the lighter tread of Lady Westkirk. I had almost caught up to her when she peered out a window overlooking the alley. “Wonderful,” she murmured. “Bobbies.”
Her footsteps came toward me. I slipped behind a large leafy potted fern and hoped she didn’t notice me in the shadows.
She went right past me and I waited, holding my breath until I could tell which way she went. Through the empty rooms and toward the front door.
When I was sure she was near the front door, I ran after her. I reached the open front door to find her on the outside steps. She started to turn, the gun swinging toward me, as I leaped out and landed on top of her.
She partially broke my fall, but all the air had been knocked from my lungs. She lost her grip on the gun, which landed next to the satchel.
Lady Westkirk recovered faster than I did. Just as my fingers touched the metal barrel, she grabbed the gun, snatched up the satchel, and stood up, pointing the gun at me.
Before I realized what was happening, my father grabbed her from behind. She whirled around and fired. My father went down in a spurt of blood.
Chapter Twenty-Six
How dare she kill my father? I may have hated him for years for abandoning my mother on her deathbed, but he was my father. I wasn’t about to let her escape now. I was barely aware of shouts from the street. All I saw was her and that gun. I went after her.
Before she could aim to get off a second shot, I punched her in the jaw. “How dare you, you…”
She dropped the gun but stomped on my foot. I was hopping when she punched me just above the waist.
Didn’t she know you never punch anyone in the corset? Gran had pulled my corset tight. It was like wearing a brick wall. I could barely feel her blow, while she certainly felt it in her hand. Bianca clutched her fingers while I, undamaged, slugged her in the face again.