“Then you should release me now and give up on your plan.”
“Impossible. Do you have any idea how much these girls will bring me?”
By the way Seth spoke, Xavier sensed he was talking about a shipment a bit larger than normal white slavery loads.
“Not as much as you evidently think. The price will drop when you flood the market.”
Dead silence hung in the room.
“Hadn’t thought of that, eh?”
A blade bit into Xavier’s neck. “Shut up!” Seth growled. “You think you’re smarter than me? Yet, who is tied up and injured? And who holds the knife?”
“No one said you were a fool, Seth,” Xavier replied in a calm voice. “However, I do think you’re prone to rash decisions. Until I am returned, do you really believe you can move those girls onto a ship? Or anything else for that matter? I’m a very popular fellow and as long as I lay here blind and tethered, you might as well declare crime on holiday.”
The knife pressed harder into his neck. “All the more reason to kill you now!”
“Consider the consequences. First, the moment they find my body, your troubles will multiply many times over. You will unleash a pursuit equivalent to the hounds of hell. I promise you, they will not stop until you are dead. Second—and probably more worrisome for you—you won’t know which trusted minion told me of your plans. You will have to kill them all just to feel safe again. That will damn near cripple your hold on the docks. I can think of several fellows who will jump at the opportunity to take your place.”
The knife pulled away. A moment later, a door opened, and then slammed shut. In the brief time the door remained open, Xavier heard a woman singing a bawdy song to a poorly tuned piano. He smiled as he recognized the piano.
Seth holds me in the Dragon’s Cloud. Shame I have no one to tell.
Chapter 7
Vic climbed into the waiting carriage and nodded at Jacko. While he had removed his flashing gold chains and bright scarves, he still looked like a pirate, only a barely visible pirate, dressed in dull black clothes.
She reached over and felt the texture of his loose black shirt. “First time I’ve seen you in anything other than silk.”
“Work clothes. Can’t risk light reflecting off me.”
Soot darkened his face, no doubt for the same reason.
“You do have your letter of introduction, I hope. Because Mrs. Carson won’t go anywhere with you otherwise.”
“I beg to differ, but yes I do.”
When they arrived at the Bedlam Asylum, Davy let Jacko out on the backside and then drove Victor up to the front gates.
Dressed like a young dandy out for a night’s adventure, Vic joined a rather large group of gentlemen gathered in the lobby for their midnight tour.
Vic frowned as she counted twenty-six men. The midnight tour was far more popular than the mid-day tour, which had consisted of her and one old man.
“Victor,” a slightly inebriated voice called out.
She silently cursed then smiled at the source of the voice. “Charles, good to see you.” Honestly, she had hoped never to see this stupid oaf from her Oxford years again.
“We missed you at finals,” Charles declared in a slurred voice. “You were good for that, if not much else.”
Victor’s smile turned brittle. Charles was the head of the Oxford cricket team and declared Vic and the other studious boys ‘bloody useless nancies’ because they didn’t play. However, he always turned to them for help the night before an exam.
Charles scratched his head and smirked. “I’m surprised to see you here. I’d come to the mind you were a eunuch.” He then laughed, clearly, thinking himself quite the wit.
The Bedlam official called for their attention. “All the gentlemen wishing the tour of the men’s facility, follow me.”
Victor was both relieved and surprised to watch Charles step forward. Just as the herd of gentlemen hurried down the hall, Charles glanced around, evidently expecting Victor to have chosen the same.
Only eight gentlemen remained for the woman’s tour. Victor sighed with relief. She had no idea how she would have successfully opened cells and created a diversion if all the men had wished to visit the women.
Soon, an official led their group down the corridor into the first wing. Once all eight gentlemen were through the hall door, the guide locked the door with flair.
“This is the ladies’ ward. As you will discover, some of them are old, and some are young, but all are crazy as loons, so take care. We are not responsible for any injuries you incur on the tour.”
He walked to a cell made of three stone walls with iron bars across the front. It reminded Vic of a horse barn she had seen once, except the barn smelled nicer and didn’t have bars. A trembling sweat-drenched, young woman huddled in the corner. He opened the cell gate and nodded to a gentleman up front to enter. “She’s a timid one, she is.” He locked the gentleman in and the group continued down the aisle.
Vic had a great desire to call these gentlemen out for their depraved behavior. These women deserved pity, not abuse. However, such an outburst would get her kicked out of the tour and dash her plans to save Mrs. Carson. Still, she was seething in anger by the time the guide called her forward and sent her into a stone room that smelled like a feral animal’s musk and urine. A wild-eyed woman in a torn and filthy gown hissed upon Vic’s entry. The creature, arms chained to the wall, struggled to break free.
“Be careful, she bites,” the man warned before moving further down the hall and leading another gentleman to his lady.
Vic’s heart went out for the poor woman. “Can I get you water?”
“You can bugger off!” the woman screamed and fought with her chains.
Stepping closer, but still out of biting range, Vic whispered, “I’m not going to touch you. And as soon as the official leaves, I will release you from these chains.”
The young woman stopped struggling and stared in confusion.
Vic held up the key. “I pinched it. I’ll let as many of you out as I can. I wish I could do more.”
“That’ll be enough,” the girl replied and studied Vic with uncertain eyes.
The official returned and laughed. “Scared of her, are you? For a pound, I’ll give you another.”
“No, I like a challenge.”
“Suit yourself.” The man continued down the aisle. Vic waited until she heard the click of the ward door and put her key to work.
The moment she released biting girl, she hurried from the cell, not relying on the woman’s apparent goodwill. The wildcat seemed to have a trigger temper. Locating the nearest occupied cell sans gentleman, she unlocked the cell door and then moved to the next. Most of the women were not chained, in which case she opened the door and moved on. For those chained to the wall, she entered and released them. She had intended to rally them to riot after she set them all free.
However, biting girl seemed to have a different plan which included revenge against the men who tormented them. With long arms, she reached through the bars and snared a man about his neck. The other women were quick to join her.
Vic had just released an old woman in the last cell from chains when she heard a blood-curling beast-like scream followed by a man’s call for help. The wild howl called forth a blood lust among the other women. She needed to get out of this place before the inmates forgot she was the nice fellow who set them free.
She pushed her way through the angry mob and reached the ward door unharmed. If only she had lifted the door key! She knelt down to pick the lock but the frail old hag from the last cell screamed and latched onto her back.
She tried to shrug off the wild woman, but the terror had talons like an eagle. Vic gave up picking the lock and buried her face to protect it from the woman’s claws.
A moment later, she felt the eagle shudder and then drop to the floor. Vic looked up at the biting girl. Blood covered her face and dripped down onto her breasts.
“Why�
�d you release that one? She’s nutters,” the biting girl scolded.
Vic refrained from commenting they all seemed a bit nutters. She resumed her efforts to pick the lock. In twice the time it normally took, and with considerable verbal abuse from biting girl, she opened the door.
A second later, the ungrateful woman shoved her to the floor, stepped on her rump, and disappeared down the hall. Sensing a stampede, Vic scurried through and pressed herself to the outside wall. A writhing mass of arms, legs, talons, and hair poured from the ward. Once the danger passed, Vic hurried in the opposite direction, down the maze of halls, grateful she knew her way out.
The air filled with shouts and whistles. Large brutish men ran past her towards the fray.
As she hurried along, a horrible thought came to her mind. The plan was for Davy to leave Jacko the carriage so he could steal Mrs. Carson away. Unfortunately, that left her with no means of transportation. God only knew how long it would take to walk home from here. Damn it all! If she had only thought beyond the actual rescue of Mrs. Carson.
No one stopped her until she arrived at the front lobby. The guard checked behind her to ensure no mad women followed and then let Vic out. The moment, she burst through the door, Davy whistled for her.
God Bless him, he had secured a cabby!
Chapter 8
The speed with which Vic set free a riot amazed and impressed Jacko. By the cacophony of screams and whistles echoing in the halls, she may have over-achieved her objective. This sounded serious enough to rally the police.
He dropped down from the ceiling and replaced the tile, then made his way to Mrs. Carson’s cell.
They frequently moved the inmates around. However, the woman in cell 46 fit Vic’s description.
“What is your name?” he demanded as he worked the cell door lock.
“I’m Virginia Carson. And who are you?”
“I’m a friend of Victor’s.” He swung open the door.
“Excellent, let’s go.” She hurried from her cell and waited for Jacko to lead the way.
Jacko laughed at Vic’s insistence that he would need a letter of introduction. He led her through the cleaning rooms, into the mechanics shop and downstairs to the supply shed. Never once did Mrs. Carson speak or demand to know where they were going.
When they arrived in the furthest corner of the supply room, he climbed up the floor to ceiling shelves. Upon removing a ceiling tile, he turned to ensure Mrs. Carson followed and saw her fiddling with her skirts. He’d never rescued a woman before and had not considered she would have trouble climbing. Hurrying down, he tossed her over his shoulder and climbed the shelves again, trusting the woman not to shriek and carry on.
When he reached the top, he lifted her into the ceiling. Her skirt slowed her progress. He glanced back, worried at their slow speed. Getting caught here would be the worst of all possibilities. Not only would he be arrested and Mrs. Carson returned to her cell, but Xavier’s clever access to this place would be discovered. Finally, she moved forward enough that he was able to pull himself up and replace the tile. He breathed a sigh of relief.
Squeezing past her, he noticed she had tucked the hems of her skirt into her waistband so they no longer impeded her legs’ movement. He liked this woman. She might be old, but she was the quietest, quickest, and most obliging inmate he had ever rescued.
When he reached a roof overhang, he pulled away two boards. Hanging on to a solid board, he leaned down and verified the coast was clear. Satisfied, he uncoiled a rope attached to a roof beam and let it fall through the hole. He then motioned Mrs. Carson forward.
Without instructions or encouragement, she sat on the edge of the hole. To prevent painful rope burns, she untucked the skirt and ensured it lay between her legs and the rope. Taking a deep breath, she slid down like a seasoned thief.
Jacko pointed to the carriage waiting on the street.
The woman nodded, lifted her skirts ankle high and ran as if the hounds of hell chased her. Once certain she was safely inside the carriage, Jacko set the boards to right, recoiled the rope for the next time he needed it and moved further down, where he leapt out a window. The fall was twenty feet, but he rolled when he hit, which softened the blow. Once he verified the sound of his landing had not acquired unwanted attention, he hurried to the carriage, leapt onto the driver’s seat, and moved away from the Bedlam Asylum as he wiped the coal smut from his face.
Vic had performed her task a bit too well. They had not traveled more than two blocks when police paddies and wagons of officers passed them.
“Excuse me, young man, but may I see your letter of introduction?” Mrs. Carson called out from the carriage window.
“Now?” Jacko asked in shock.
“Yes, please.”
Jacko stopped the carriage, pulled out the letter, and handed it to her.
“Thank you. Could you pull up to the lamp so I might read it?”
Jacko shook his head and rolled up to the lamp. Additional police wagons passed by.
A minute later, Mrs. Carson leaned out the window. “Thank you, you may proceed.”
***
A beautiful pink sunrise adorned the sky as they pulled up at the country estate. Despite the early hour, the door to the estate opened and a young lady with unfettered dark brown hair rushed out and opened the carriage before Jacko could tie off the horses and do so.
Having no need to get down now, he remained on the carriage and watched the two women hug and rejoice in their reunion. To his surprise when Mrs. Carson broke from the embrace, she turned to him.
“Jacko, would you step down here please?”
Curious, he did so.
The old woman grasped his hand. “I owe you a great debt for saving my life. If I can ever be of assistance to you, please do not hesitate to ask. I can see you are anxious to leave, but may I offer you food and drink before you go?”
Jacko smiled. “I’d appreciate that. Could you pack them in a basket? I will not rest easy until I’m certain Vic arrived home safely.”
The old woman’s eyes grew worried. “Vic? Was Victor there?”
“Yes. He incited the riot needed to distract the guards.”
Both Mrs. Carson and the young lady burst into laughter. “Well, given all the police who passed us, I believe he excelled at his task.”
Jacko nodded. “May I ask why you chose that moment to ask for your letter?”
Mrs. Carson gripped his arm. “There was a small chance you were sent by my husband. If you had no letter, I intended to call for help.”
“But that would get you thrown back in the asylum.”
Mrs. Carson shrugged. “Worst case—yes. However, I felt I had a good chance of convincing the police you had knocked off my driver and were abducting me. I, of course, would not have claimed to be Mrs. Carson, rather Victoria Collins, presently visiting her daughter, Alice Collins.”
The young lady held out her hand. “I’m Alice. Thank you for saving my mother.”
Jacko took her slightly calloused, strong hand in his and smiled. “It has been my honor. And if she ever needs saving again, do not hesitate to call. I have retrieved several men from Bedlam and not one of them was half as sensible or cooperative in their rescue.”
Then to his utter shock, Mrs. Carson hugged him.
“You are a good man.” She tugged at a strand of his long hair. “Although you could use a haircut.”
“I disagree entirely, Mother. He looks so dashing with those black locks.” Alice smiled at him with clear admiration.
Jacko returned her smile and was pleased she did not falter. Most ladies swooned at the sight of him. He remembered his time at the Marquis’ estate. Every time he stepped into the castle, some silly maid would faint.
***
Thoughts of Miss Alice filled Jacko’s head as he returned to London, munching on the generous basket of food she prepared for his travel. He wondered if a Mr. Collins mucked about to ruin his budding fantasy.
He
frowned. Her mother’s last name was Carson and hers was Collins, indicating Alice had a husband. With a heavy sigh, he nudged the tired horse forward.
When he arrived at Thorn’s Private Inquiries Davy was out front, muttering beneath his breath while he took charge of the horse.
“Is the day already set against you?” Jacko teased.
Davy looked up and sighed with relief. “Thank God, you’ve returned. Vic intends to check out Wapping Basin ‘while the criminals sleep.’”
Jacko knew there was no such time. Trouble never slept. “Let me try and talk him out of it.”
Chapter 9
Jacko entered just as Vic stormed through the door. They collided, almost causing a hammer and a block of wood to fall from her arms.
“Oh Jacko! I hoped you’d turn up. Did you deliver our package safely?”
“Package delivered.”
“Excellent! You look exhausted. Why don’t you go home and get some sleep. I expect we’ll have a busy night.”
Jacko laughed beneath his breath. My God, but she is an active fellow. No wonder Xavier dotes on her. Between the two of them, London crime might be in serious danger of extinction. “I do need sleep. I hoped to grab a few hours in Davy’s bed.”
“I’m sorry. Have you no place to sleep? You are welcomed to stay at my house.”
He smiled as he realized she thought him impoverished and homeless. “I have a home. It’s just a bit of a hike from here. Davy’s bed will be fine.”
“Then sleep here as long as you like. Don’t worry about clients, I’ll lock the door. And there is food in the kitchen when you get hungry.”
As she rattled off her orders, she hammered a nail on the outside of the door and hung a sign, which said, “Out Investigating Our Clients’ Cases.” Chuckling, he imagined the horror on Xavier’s face once he saw the sign.
The thought of Xavier sobered him and he lost his smile. He had yet to tell Vic his searches yesterday afternoon and evening proved fruitless. However, he still held out hope the handsome reward he offered for information on the whereabouts of a one-eyed beggar might bear fruit. As word spread that he’d pay up to ten thousand pounds, he was certain to get information. Most would be false leads, but he hoped to find at least one diamond among the coal.
The Missing Partner (The Adventures of Xavier & Vic Book 2) Page 7