The Bellingham Bloodbath

by Harris, Gregory

  It wasn’t thunder; someone was at my door.

  I stumbled to it just as another pounding cracked through the storm’s tirade, and, without even thinking, yanked it open. At first my eyes refused to adjust to the diffuse gaslight flickering in the hall, but as my brain caught up to the signals being relayed through my retinas I found myself staring at Colin. His hair was matted flat and there was water dribbling down the sides of his face. It took a moment before I registered the expression on his face and the dark, sunken look in his eyes.

  “I can’t sleep,” he mumbled.

  I stared at him a moment before saying, “Oh,” my voice cracking as a fresh wave of exhaustion swept over me.

  He kept staring at me, his gaze unwavering, and when nothing else would come to my mind I finally stepped back and gestured him in. He shuffled inside without another word and I closed and bolted the door behind him, all the while trying to think what I should say. I sucked in a deep breath and turned around, set on lighting a few candles, only to find that he had already peeled off his saturated clothing and was climbing into the bed. My brain heaved with relief as I stumbled back and climbed in beside him.

  I resumed my former position, curling into a tight ball, but before I could properly settle in he moved against me, gently tucking himself within my arms. He pressed himself so completely that I was certain a wisp of wind could not come between us. I held him, the cool dampness of his skin warming at once, as he reached out and clasped my nearest hand, pressing it to his chest.

  The next thing I knew I felt his lips on mine and as I smiled and opened my eyes I was stunned to find the sun streaming in and him standing beside the bed fully dressed. He straightened up while fumbling with the buttons on his vest, the poor thing as wrinkled as a centenarian, while I tried to coax myself to wakefulness. The rest of his clothes had fared little better, leaving him looking ready for a day in pursuit of charity.

  “Rise and shine,” he said cheerily, his face lighting up with his dimpled smile. He stepped over to the glassless window and whisked the sheers aside, allowing an effervescent swath of warm sunshine to stream unimpeded into the room. “There’s much to be done today.”

  “Maybe so,” I said, kicking the covers free and stretching lazily. “But you certainly can’t do it looking like that.”

  “No?” He swept his jacket off the floor and shrugged into it. “Something amiss?”

  “Unless dishevelment became the fashion overnight.”

  “You were wearing much less than dishevelment when you opened that door last night. What a sight.” He chuckled as he tugged at his clothes as though that might encourage them to lie flat. “Now get up and get yourself dressed before you’re the cause of further delay this morning.”

  I laughed as I sat up. “You really aren’t going out like that, are you?”

  “Only as far as our flat,” he said, bullying his feet into his shoes without even looking down. “Can you be out front in ten minutes?”

  “I can.”

  “Then I shall get us a cab.”

  Sunshine made the Devonshire appear almost agreeable, or perhaps it was my mood. The room seemed almost vaguely charming in its stark simplicity, with the well-worn bed more a comfortable old friend than the hazard to the spine I had first pegged it to be. Even the gaping window commanded a compelling view of the hopscotch of rooftops with their chimneys and pipes.

  The fresh morning was so relieving that I didn’t even mind the brief wait for the bathroom. Even so, within ten minutes, my spirits soaring, I was bounding down the stairs to join Colin.

  “Well . . . well . . .” The accusing words erupted out of the dark space beneath the stairs so unexpectedly that it caused me to miss the final step and lurch jarringly onto the ground floor. “Look ’oo’s up,” the voice sneered.

  “Morning.” I offered a quick smile as I glimpsed the haggard face of the black-haired woman still wrapped in the same robe she apparently spent her life in. While everything else about the day looked brighter, nothing of her had altered a whit, including the fork still holding her mop of hair aloft.

  “ ’Oo do ya think yer foolin’?” She stood with her arms folded across her chest, the sly smile on her face revealing more gaps than teeth.

  “Pardon?” I started to say before realizing that she had likely discovered the shattered window the day before. “Oh. You mean the window.”

  She slammed a hand onto the dust-laden counter and snarled at me, “I’m talkin’ ’bout ’im that spent the night in yer room! I told ya a thousand bloody times that two a ya cost extra and I don’t give a bloody shite if he was only there part a the night. ’E’s extra and ya gotta pay.” Her eyes narrowed. “And what about the winda?”

  I pulled out some coins, trying to ignore her withering glare. “Of course.”

  “Damn right.” She snatched some of it before seizing my wrist. “What about the ruddy winda?”

  “It was stuck,” I said. “When I tried to open it the glass broke.”

  She puckered her face. “It was rainin’ last night. What the ’ell were ya openin’ the bleedin’ winda for?”

  “The room stank,” I grumbled.

  She was clearly unimpressed. “That’ll cost ya,” she sneered, snatching a few more coins before releasing my wrist. “And if ’e comes back tonight, you’ll be payin’ fer ’im again. I ain’t runnin’ no buggered charity ’ouse.”

  “A charitable organization would never stand for these conditions.” I scowled.

  By the time I stepped outside and breathed the clean air, now washed free of its customary soot, smoke, and animal detritus, I felt rejuvenated again. Even the grimy buildings looked almost renewed.

  We got back to our flat in minutes and I remained with the driver while Colin ran up and changed. He was gone an astoundingly brief time yet looked ever so much more dapper by the time he returned.

  “Let’s be quick,” he called to the driver as he climbed aboard. “There is money to be earned if you proceed with all due haste.”

  “Bribing drivers, are you?” I laughed.

  “Without question. We’ve a full day ahead and I don’t relish continually searching for transportation, so I have offered the fellow a bonus if he provides his services solely to us today.”

  “A bonus . . . how extravagant.”

  “It will be wisely spent. Especially given the neighborhood I’ve coaxed him to start in.”

  I looked at Colin curiously. “What neighborhood?”

  He picked up a small leather satchel that he’d brought from our flat and opened it so I could peek inside. Nestled within lay the little pink blanket belonging to the missing Lady Priscilla. “This will be our second stop.” He grinned mischievously. “It will provide the proof we need to bring the little pup home to her mother. But our first stop”—he flipped the satchel closed and looked at me—“shall be Limehouse Street.”

  “Limehouse?!”

  “I may have been a mite hasty about your visiting that Heikens shrew. She sent that urchin to let us know she had learned something about Lady Stuart.” He shrugged with uncustomary remorse. “If she really has come up with information on her then I’m a fool not to hear her out.” He turned his gaze to the passing scenery, placing a protective hand over mine.

  “I should have just told you I had gone there—”

  “No . . .” He removed his hand and dug a crown from his pocket, flipping it easily through his fingers, a contented smile settling on his face. “You probably did the right thing. If she hadn’t sent that boy . . .” He shook his head with a smirk on his lips. “But I’ll tell you what. Later on we’re getting your things from that infernal hotel. You’ll not spend another minute there. That was a terrible idea.”

  I laughed, happy to comply and wholeheartedly in agreement. If he needed time to himself in the future, I would just keep my mouth shut. And so it was that we didn’t speak again until the cab pulled alongside the alley behind Limehouse.

  “Wait here,�
�� Colin ordered the driver as we climbed from the cab.

  “You’ll pay me somethin’ before I let ya outta me sight.”

  “We’ll give you half,” I spoke up, slipping some cash into his upturned hand. “You’ll get the other half when we return.”

  “If we’re not back within the hour, notify Scotland Yard!” Colin called out as he headed down the alley.

  “Yer holdin’ half me fee. I’ll come get ya meself.”

  “Reassuring,” Colin muttered, following me through the unmarked door that had once led to Maw’s teeming establishment. Other than the toxic smells of liquor and opium clinging to the structure, it pained me how little it resembled its former life. “I haven’t been back here since the night I dragged you out,” Colin muttered as I led him down the narrow hallway to the main room.

  “I barely knew you back then. I had no reason to trust you.”

  “You knew who I was. I’d seen you plenty of times at Easling and Temple.”

  “Plenty of times?!” I laughed. “I didn’t attend classes enough for that to be true.”

  His nose curled as the lingering scents assaulted us. “My getting you out of this place is the best thing that ever happened to you.”

  “It is. But the same can be said for you too,” I needled before turning and calling out, “Hello!”

  “Cuppy . . . ?” Maw’s raspy voice drifted right back and I realized she was sitting among the shadows behind the counter.

  “Yes, it’s me.”

  She stood up and came ambling out, and I heard Colin suck in a hard breath as she made her way around the counter. Her obvious frailty had the effect on him I knew it would. This was no longer a daunting woman, though I had never thought her to be so. While she had not been one to be trifled with, neither had I ever seen her be cruel.

  She moved to within a few feet of me before casting her good eye over at Colin. “Brought ’im, didja? Knew ’e’d wanna see what was left a me.”

  To my relief, Colin kept quiet.

  “How are you, Maw?”

  She waved me off. “Same as I look.” She gestured us over to the set of well-worn chairs and slowly lowered herself into one of them. “Ain’t this somethin’?” She snickered. “The three of us sittin’ ’ere jest like ol’ times.” She looked at me with a smile that seemed almost wistful. “Two days in a row, Cuppy . . .” She let her voice trail off, leaving me to wonder whether she thought it a good thing or bad.

  “You sent for us?” Colin spoke up, an edge in his tone.

  “Always ’bout the business, ain’t ya?” Maw shot him a glance, her good eye raking him carefully. “I ’ope ’e’s been good to ya, Cuppy. ’E never was one fer words.”

  “Yes, Maw.”

  “Don’t!” he snapped.

  She clucked and shook her head. “Still full a ’isself, I see.”

  “This was a mistake.” He stood up, his body tense, and threw an agitated glance at me. “We’re done here.”

  Maw shrugged and leaned back in her chair with a chuckle. “Jest like ol’ times,” she said again.

  “Sit down, Colin. We haven’t heard what we came here for.”

  “She’s just fiddling with us. We’ve already found Lady Stuart anyway.”

  “Found ’er, didja?” Maw chuckled again as though she was the only one who understood the joke. “That ain’t nothin’. It’s knowin’ ’er that counts. Didja get ta know ’er? Didja get the truth?”

  “And what do you know about truth?” he shot back.

  Maw went still a moment before turning to him and speaking in a low, even tone. “I never lied ta nobody. Weren’t my fault everybody was so eager ta lie to themselves. All I ever did was help people believe they was seein’ what they wanted ta see: the prettiest girls . . . the ’andsomest boys . . . the finest opium . . . the smoothest scotch. If that’s the way a customer saw it, well then, that’s the way I saw it too. So where’s the ’arm in that?”

  “You degraded people. You made them addicts.” His gaze slid over to me and I could see his outrage lurking there.

  “I didn’t drag nobody ’ere. All I did was offer services. Weren’t none a me business why anybody did what they did.” She studied him a moment. “I didn’t try ta stop ya when ya took Cuppy outta ’ere. And I coulda.” A smile broke across her face. “So don’t act like me judge and jury. Tell me, ya like them that judges you and Cuppy?”

  “That’s different.”

  “It’s always different. Was different to those that came ’ere too. But ’ere you are tellin’ me what I did was wrong and what you do is fine, yet there’s those that hate us both jest the same. That don’t make ya think . . . ?”

  “Please . . . ,” I interrupted. “We came to hear about Lady Stuart.”

  Maw waved a bony hand and sucked in a wheezing breath. “There ain’t no damn Lady Stuart,” she announced with a great deal of self-satisfaction. For a moment I thought Colin would surely leap up and strangle her, but he contained himself, remaining as rigid as a molded soldier. “Name’s made up. Did she tell ya that when ya met ’er?” Maw grinned wickedly. “Did yer right proper lady tell ya she’s jest a ruddy Gypsy? That ’er real name is Magdala Genovesse?” She clucked happily. “She married some ol’ sot for ’is money and that shite title. Didn’t get much a the former from what I ’ear, but did end up with a place off Lancaster Gate with ’er father actin’ the ’ouseman. Calls ’im Evers. Maybe that’s ’is name.” She shrugged. “ ’Ell if I know.”

  “Are you sure?” Colin frowned.

  “Ya really askin’ me that . . . ?”

  I couldn’t help chuckling as Colin went on. “Why the ruse then? What’s she hiding?”

  “She’s tellin’ fortunes to them society ladies fer money. The real ladies. ’Ear she makes a tidy sum at it too. Seems some a them ladies won’t do nothin’ ’til they check with your precious lady. Only way she can be doin’ that is ta make ’em think she’s one a them.”

  “Of course,” he said, absently running his fingers through his hair. “Is it only the ladies? Does she tell fortunes for the men as well?”

  Maw laughed. “Ain’t ya learned nothin’, boy? Money don’t give a shite what’s between the legs. Ya do what ya gotta do fer whoever’s willin’ ta pay. True a you, true a me, true a Magdala Genovesse no matter what the ’ell she calls ’erself.”

  “Has she been linked to anyone?” he pressed. “Have you heard anything about someone she might have been carrying on with?”

  Maw dismissed him with a wet explosion of her lips. “What woman ain’t been linked with a ’undred different men? Don’t mean nothin’.”

  “Humor me.”

  She leveled her sharp brown eye on him, the slightest curl tugging at the edges of her lips. “I been humorin’ you since the day ya first walked in ’ere ’bout a thousand years ago.”

  “Maw . . .” I leaned forward, placing myself between her and Colin. “Was there any particular man you’ve heard mentioned?”

  Her watery eyes flicked back to me and her smile widened. “Always the one in the middle, ain’t ya?”

  “Maw—”

  “She ain’t with no one!” she groused. “I’m tellin’ ya she ain’t got no need fer a man. She’s makin’ all the money she wants and got ’erself all set up nice and proper. Not everyone needs a man, ya know.” Her words came out harsh and disapproving, and I knew what she was inferring. She had always set a powerful example of strength. Even now—half-blind, stooped, and looking as frail as a baby bird—she still managed to learn anything she wanted to know. And I was certain the information had cost her nothing. She never owed anyone.

  “I also ’eard that Bellingham woman ’ad ’erself a tosser of a brother in the Irish Guard name of Mulrooney. ’Ad no use fer ’is brother-in-law.”

  “We’ve met him,” I said, shooting a pointed glance at Colin. “I didn’t think much of him, either.”

  “Ya ’member I told you ’bout that brawl at McPhee’s? I ’eard ’er bro
ther ’ad everythin’ ta do with it. A bunch a officers from the Life Guard and those Irish cads. ’Eard the officers took the worst a it.”

  Colin stood up for the second time, only now he did so slowly and without anger. “Thank you for your help. You must allow us to pay you for your time.” He looked grave and sallow, but Maw only laughed.

  “I don’t want yer money.” She kept right on chuckling as she looked up at him. “But there is somethin’ you can do fer me.”

  A second passed before Colin said, “And what would that be?”

  “Ya be good ta Cuppy. Don’t let ’im end up alone. If yer lives change, if ya fall away from each other, don’t let this ’appen to ’im, ’cause ’e ain’t got the stomach fer it.”

  Colin’s face went slack as he stared at her, but I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “I’m going back to the cab,” he announced disconcertingly. And before I could say anything he left the room, and a moment later I heard the alley door creak open and closed.

  “ ’E’s a good man,” Maw said. “A bit ’arsh about ’is edges, but that keeps ’im interestin’.” She tottered unsteadily back to her feet. “Now get outta ’ere. ’Elp ’im solve ’is case. And don’t come back ’ere. I ain’t tellin’ ya again.”

  I smiled at her as I stood up, wanting to reach out and hug her, but she moved away before I could do any such thing and did not stop until the worn counter was between us. That’s when it struck me that in all the years I had lived under her roof, when she had given me a place to sleep, and made sure I had what I needed to survive, and put me to work, and given me a sense of my own value, even when she had hollered at me to hurry up or pay more attention, that in all those years I had not once, not ever, hugged her.