by Geonn Cannon
Beatrice grinned and rolled the car to a stop at the kerb. Dorothy climbed out as Trafalgar and her enforcer, Leola, stormed toward her from a few yards down the street. Trafalgar was carrying what appeared to be a bladed weapon in one hand with a short club in the other. Leola seemed intent on using only her fists for whatever confrontation was to come.
“Miss Trafalgar,” Dorothy said. “I was just on my way to see you.”
“To admire your handiwork?” Trafalgar said, her lips curling into a sneer. “Your victim’s name was Adeline Okoro!”
The challenge faded from Dorothy’s expression, replaced by confusion. “My victim? Adeline? What in blazes are you--”
Her question was cut off by a wide swing of Trafalgar’s club. She obviously planned to lash out the moment she was in range but miscalculated the distance. Dorothy rocked back on her heels and felt wind on her face from the club’s passage. Trafalgar took another step and followed through with her swing. Dorothy ducked to avoid it this time and threw herself at Trafalgar’s midsection.
Leola pulled back her fist, but Beatrice stepped in and hooked her arm around the woman’s elbow. They spun like dance partners and Beatrice stuck her foot out to trip Leola. Both went down, but Beatrice recovered more quickly. She struck from a kneeling position and punched Leola just under her ribs in the soft skin of her gut. Leola was dazed long enough for Beatrice to get to her feet for another attack. Leola’s shoulders rose and fell as she centered herself before launching forward with a second attack. Beatrice leapt out of the way but Leola was prepared. Her hands hit the pavement and she turned her pounce into a somersault. The heel of her shoe clipped Beatrice’s chin and sent her reeling.
Pedestrians had cleared the area, and all other traffic was stalled to give the four women space for their brawl. Trafalgar’s bladed weapon caught the buttons of Dorothy’s vest and popped them off. Dorothy grimaced and captured Trafalgar’s wrist to keep the blades from getting a better angle on her.
“I haven’t the slightest clue what you’re accusing me of, Miss Trafalgar. But I assure you--” Trafalgar thrust her free hand into Dorothy’s gut and knocked the wind from her. Dorothy doubled over and released her grip. They pushed away from each other as if drawn back magnetically, and Dorothy put a hand against her stomach to make sure the clothes and skin had come out unscathed.
“You sent an assassin after me,” Trafalgar said. “He failed, but claimed the life of my dear friend. Adeline Okoro. You will say her name before I make you pay for her death.”
Dorothy’s eyes widened. “Bloody hell.” She straightened as much as her bruised abdomen would allow. She took her gun from her belt and tossed it aside, then did the same with her dagger. “Miss Trafalgar, I deeply regret the loss of your companion and I assert wholeheartedly that I had no hand in it whatsoever. Miss Sek and I were also the target of an assassination attempt this afternoon. I have the evidence in the car if you would like to see it. The method was an explosive hidden inside a package allegedly sent to us by you.”
Trafalgar’s posture relaxed slightly. She flexed her fingers on the grip of her club, and Dorothy saw the bladed weapon was attached to a ring around Trafalgar’s middle finger. She was impressed by the ingenuity but forced her mind to stay on track.
“Why do you think I would have sent someone to kill you?”
“The sniper named you upon his capture.”
Dorothy nodded. “We must interrogate this man at once, the both of us together. He could be invaluable to finding out what precisely is going on.”
Trafalgar had the grace to look sheepish. “I killed him.”
Dorothy’s shoulders slumped. “You didn’t.”
“He murdered my friend in cold blood,” Trafalgar said through clenched teeth. “Tell me you wouldn’t have done the same thing in my place.”
Dorothy looked at Beatrice and conceded. “Right. We’ll simply have to make do.”
“We?”
“Yes. It stands to reason that two attempted murders occurring nearly simultaneously with both victims named as the perpetrator in the other attempt.” She sighed. “Someone wanted to eliminate us. They made certain there was a contingency in the event one or both were unsuccessful. Either we both die and our invisible adversary gets what he wants, or one of us dies and the other is held accountable. ”
Leola said, “Or neither of you dies, you end up brawling in the street. It’s only a matter of time before the police arrive and start asking questions.” She looked at Beatrice, who was still rubbing her jaw. After a moment Beatrice nodded, a small gesture of apology, and Leola returned it.
“Right.” Dorothy straightened her ruined vest and smoothed a hand across her hair as she examined the crowd around them. “I would like to see the crime scene, Miss Trafalgar, if you would be agree to that. I’d also like to see the man who claims I hired him. It would be interesting to see if I even recognize the bloke.”
“Very well.” Trafalgar snapped the blade in half and concealed it up her sleeve. Dorothy made a note to definitely get a closer look at the weapon, and soon. “Since it seems we’ve been targeted by the same person it only makes sense that we enact a temporary truce.”
Dorothy nodded. “It’s so agreed. Lead the way.”
Trafalgar inclined her head slightly, then motioned for Leola to follow her. Despite the apology Leola and Beatrice still eyed each other warily until they were outside of striking distance. Beatrice smoothed down her clothes and checked her hair as she led Dorothy back to their vehicle.
“Someone going after both of you. That’s intriguing.”
“Isn’t it? For the time being it’s almost worth joining forces with Trafalgar to determine the true culprit. Needs must and all that.”
Beatrice didn’t seem convinced, but she slipped behind the wheel and watched Trafalgar’s car. “If you say so, mum.”
Dorothy sighed as she settled back in her seat. “Ah, I love it when you call me ‘mum.’”
Beatrice smirked and started the engine. Trafalgar passed them, and she pulled out into the street to follow her across the bridge.
#
The spray of blood was still visible on the front steps of Trafalgar’s townhouse, and Dorothy was taken aback by how large the pool had been. It had dried by that point, a deep maroon spill, and it chilled her to stand in front of it. Trafalgar stood at her right shoulder, with Beatrice and Leola standing on either side of the front steps to redirect any foot traffic that might pass by. Dorothy took a moment of silence in honor of the woman who had died before she spoke.
“Show me where she was standing, if you would.” Trafalgar demonstrated, and Dorothy took position on the third step. “And you were directly in front of her?”
“I was here.”
Leola pointed. “The shooter was in that window, between the third and fourth corbel.”
“Third and fourth... what?”
Leola said, “The bracket holding up the cornice.” She held out her arm and leaned to one side so Dorothy could follow her finger. “See?”
“Ah, yes. Thank you.” She chewed her bottom lip and then narrowed her eyes. “Was that his only option? What about these other windows? Do they lead to offices, locked rooms, what?”
Trafalgar shook her head. “It’s a loft space. He could have used any of them. He didn’t want to be seen when we approached, so he chose a position as far away as possible.”
“And sacrificed a sure shot for a riskier attempt. He knew he would be shooting at this position and yet he moved that far away. He was confident in his ability to hit you from that distance.”
“He shouldn’t have been,” Trafalgar said flatly, pushing down her anger and grief.
Dorothy rocked her head from side to side. “Perhaps, perhaps not. But if he missed he knew he wouldn’t have a second chance. If any of these windows were as good as the one he picked, why not get a little closer? An assassin would place himself as close as he needed to be, and in this case that was still quit
e far away. That speaks to his ability.”
“What ability?” Leola said. “He missed.”
“A man with an assassin’s rifle, with an assassin’s skill, would not miss so perfectly. He would not prepare a shot for Trafalgar that was off by less than a meter. If he missed, he would have hit the... the...” She gestured at the door.
“The lintel?” Leola suggested.
“Yes,” Dorothy said. “If he was aiming for Trafalgar and misjudged the wind, the bullet would have been carried farther. It would have gone into the street or the building.” She extended her hand to lay two fingers flat against Trafalgar’s temple; her arm was nowhere near at full reach, and her elbow was in fact slightly bent. “The man who chose that vantage point would not miss by this much. And he certainly wouldn’t have been fortunate enough to score an unintentional perfect kill. The man was not aiming at you, Miss Trafalgar. He hit his target.”
Trafalgar’s eyes flashed with anger. “Why would he want to kill Adeline?”
Dorothy dropped her hand. “She was incentive. Beatrice and I assumed the plot was for us both to die, but now I don’t believe that’s true. The plot was to kill me and set you up to take the fall.” She closed her eyes to picture how the plan would have gone down. “A package arrives in the mail, a package with your name and return address. I open it, and the explosion kills me. Meanwhile, here in Bankside, a sniper kills Adeline Okoro. Enraged, you make haste to my doorstep...”
Trafalgar said, “At which point I would have broken down the door when you didn’t respond. I would have found your charred corpse on the parlor floor...”
“And I’d wager anything the Met would be right behind. I’ve little doubt whoever arranged this was poised to make a call to them at just the right moment. I had to spoil the whole thing by surviving the attempt.”
“But why go through this production?” Beatrice said. “If someone wants you dead and Trafalgar out of the country, surely there are easier ways to go about making both those things happen.”
“True,” Dorothy said. “But this method leaves our enemy’s hands clean. The police have a suspect for my murder and Trafalgar is arrested and jailed. The only loose end is Adeline’s death, and I’m sorry to say the police likely wouldn’t expend much energy in solving that.”
Beatrice said, “Why not?”
Trafalgar said, “Her skin is the wrong color, and she was too close to a brothel for her death to be a mystery in their minds. The case would have been completely closed before a single police officer set foot on the crime scene. But why us? Let us presume someone is clearing the path for... something... and didn’t want us to interfere. Why in Heaven’s name would he target us both?”
“It’s common knowledge we’re enemies. If some constable did get it into his head to investigate, our antagonism would have made the murder charge easier to swallow.”
“Yes, I understand that. But why would anyone fear the both of us getting in his way? He was perfectly willing to murder you. He could have murdered me without bothering to line up a scapegoat.”
Dorothy chewed her bottom lip as she thought. Finally her eyes widened. “Oh, crumbs. He wouldn’t target us specifically. If he wants to eliminate his competition, we wouldn’t be his only targets. He would want to clear the entire playing field. Archaeologists, practitioners, and explorers all over London are in grave danger.” She hurried down the steps and motioned for Trafalgar to follow her. “Come! We can only pray it’s not too late to stop him from massacring all of our peers in one fell swoop!”
Chapter Five
Little more than a dozen King’s College students filled the Department of History’s main lecture hall, shuffling their feet or staring at the dust motes dancing in the sun that filtered through the arched windows. The young men were well-distributed among the sea of wooden seats, their distance from one another enforcing just how low the turnout for the class was. Those who bothered to show up were mainly there for the spectacle, but one or two were fresh meat who had yet to hear the rumors.
Professor Desmond Tindall finished writing “Mitanni” on the chalkboard with a flourish on the tittle above the last letter. He was young with hair the color of wet sand and bright blue eyes. When he tanned people often said he looked like the beach at low tide. Currently the hairs of his beard were dusted with residue from the chalk, and ghostly fingerprints marked the front of his shirt and the collar of his tweed jacket. He turned away from the board to face his class once more.
“The Hittite, Mycenaean, and the Mitanni kingdoms all fell to the might of the mysterious Sea Peoples. These invaders spread like a plague across the Mediterranean, and they had their sights set on the biggest prize of all: Egypt, and the Nile delta. Their victories had already set in motion the events that would cause the collapse of the Bronze Age. If they had managed to take down Egypt then history would be forever changed. The only thing standing in their way was Ramses III and the full might of the Egyptian navy. Warships and galleys blockaded the mouth of the river and stood to protect the kingdom. In 1175 BCE, Ramses built a fleet specifically to repel the invasion. When the Sea Peoples arrived--”
A hand went up at the back of the room. Desmond nodded to the student, who stood up. “You keep calling them the Sea Peoples. Surely there’s a more accurate name for them.”
Desmond smiled. “Of course there is. Atlanteans.”
The class chuckled, but their humor died when Desmond didn’t admit to making a joke. The student said, “As in...?”
“As in people from Atlantis. Now, if you will refer to your textbooks--”
This time the interruption came from the doors at the back of the lecture hall. Dorothy Boone didn’t pause as she barreled into the aisle and down the steps. The students who had been startled out of their near-dozing gawped at the woman dressed in trousers and a bowler hat but she ignored their stares. “Des! You must come at once. Lives are at risk.”
“Ah. Yes, class, you may have heard of this lovely lady. This is my betrothed, Lady Boone.”
She stopped at the bottom of the steps and looked at the students she had just become aware of. “Oh. Right, you’re in the middle of a...” She looked past him at the chalkboard. “Oh, Des. Atlantis again? Really? Even Plato admitted that was just an allegory.”
He took a measured breath. “The evidence suggests--”
“The evidence suggests you are a lovely man who is susceptible to fairytales and legends.”
Beatrice Sek had entered with Dorothy but remained at the door. “Perhaps this is a debate better suited to another time.”
“Quite right,” Dorothy said. “The timing is unfortunate, of course, but you must come with us. Lives hang in the balance.”
Desmond sighed and put his chalk down. “Class, I apologize for the interruption, but I’ve learned that Lady Boone rarely exaggerates when it comes to matters of life and death.” He took his coat and hat from their hooks and stepped around his desk. “We shall pick this up again on Monday. Class dismissed.”
“And forget that rubbish about Atlantis,” Dorothy said. “It’s a myth, pure and simple. The Sea Peoples were actually from Pavlopetri, off the coast of Greece. Don’t allow him to fill your head with lies and confusing half-truths. Ta.”
Desmond wrapped his arm around her elbow and hauled her outside. “A matter of life and death and yet you still have time to toy with the children.”
“All in good fun, Des,” she said.
He sighed and looked ahead to where Beatrice was leading them out of the building. “Always good to see you again, Miss Sek.”
“Likewise, Professor.”
“What exactly is the problem this time?”
Dorothy said, “This morning, someone attempted to kill me and pin the blame on Trafalgar. When Trix and I went to confer with Miss Trafalgar on this occurrence, we discovered that someone attempted to kill her and named me as the mastermind.”
“Unthinkable,” he said. “But she is unharmed as well?”
Desmond put his hat on as they exited the building. He fished for a pair of tinted sunglasses from the inner pocket of his jacket and put them on as well. “Who else is in danger?”
“Trafalgar and I believe we weren’t our assassin’s only targets. Whoever is responsible might be someone who is also in our unique line of work. Today’s attacks may be his attempt to clear the field of competition.”
“That’s inconceivable. No one I consider a colleague would stoop to those tactics. This is a gentleman’s profession.” Dorothy shot him a look and he grunted. “You know what I mean. We wouldn’t resort to murders and mischief.”
“Be that as it may, can you think of any other reason Trafalgar and I would both be targeted for death on the same day? We were each named as the other’s alleged assassin. There’s no possibility in my mind that this was a coincidence. We must assume the worst.” She opened the car door and let Desmond get in first. “Trafalgar is at the offices of Dubourne and Associates, while we have called ahead to Mr. and Mrs. Keeping so they’ll be expecting our imminent arrival. I have a list of all those who share our unique occupation, and we shall be paying them all a visit as soon as possible. If we are correct we shall either find more potential victims or the villain himself waiting for word on how his plans have fared. Either way, a bit more exciting than your preposterous Atlantis lecture.”
Desmond shook his head. “It infuriates me when you presume you’re correct without any evidence whatsoever to support your claims.”