Well Kept Secrets (The Adventures of Xavier & Vic Book 4)

by Liza O'Connor

  His eyes widened. “Are you daft, girl? I can’t afford no surgeon.” Gripping his side, he demanded, “Now you gonna sell me medicine or do I go elsewhere?”

  “I’ll sell you quinine. If it’s malaria, you should show a marked improvement.”

  “A marked improvement?” He snorted and eyed her over. “You really aren’t from down here. What happen? Your fancy up and leave you?”

  Ignoring him, she counted out the tablets and placed them in a tin box. “Take one tablet three times a day.”

  “How much?” he asked.

  Damn it all! The book didn’t give her a clue what the charge should be. She flipped through the other books. Nothing! Racking her brain, she tried to remember the cost from her prior visits to an apothecary. While she had never gotten malaria, it was quite common around the docks.

  “I ain’t got all day, girl.”

  “That will be one shilling,” she said.

  “A shilling! Do I look like some rich dandy?”

  Without warning, the tin box was yanked from Vic’s hand. She turned and watched her new boss dump the pills into his hand, move half to his right hand and offer them to the customer. “Half a shilling without the box.”

  The man slapped a coin on the counter and took the pills and shoved them into his pocket. “You should fire this girl. She don’t know what she’s doing,” he said and stormed out the door.

  “I couldn’t find anything stating the prices,” she explained.

  He chuckled and handed her a slim book. “Inside is a list of what I pay for the stuff. Your job is to figure out how much something costs me for a standard dose and then double it.” He frowned. “You can do math, right?”

  Vic nodded.

  “Then you still got your job. The worker before you was half done with this task before she talked about stuff she shouldn’t have and got herself killed.” His eyebrows rose in unison. “You can learn from her mistake.”

  Vic nodded quickly, presenting a face of fear, while inside she celebrated. Less than an hour and she knew it was Mr. Schnell who killed Maggie. All she had to do now was prove it.

  “Get to work on that notebook. Whether I hire you or not will depend upon the progress you make by the time I lockup.” Mr. Schnell turned and disappeared into the back.

  Calculating the prices would have been straightforward if anyone had listed the quantity of the product purchased. Instead, Vic had to hunt down the bottle and estimate its volume or the amount of pills inside, then check the apothecaries’ book to see how much was used in a dosage.

  Upon going through the list, she discovered twelve cases of laudanum and sixteen cases of chloroform had recently been delivered, but were not on the back wall or underneath the counter.

  She growled in frustration. This job would be much easier if Mr. Schnell would tell her everything she needed to know. Or better yet, he could tell her where the murder weapon was and confess to killing Maggie. Then she could quit in good conscience

  Or could have until she realized how much chloroform the man had bought in the last year. This could be what worried Maggie as well. No legitimate apothecary would use a tenth of this amount. Who would buy so much chloroform? What nefarious purpose were they using it for?

  She closed the book and carried it with her as she eased into the back room. She hoped to investigate the area without Schnell’s knowledge, but if caught, she would claim she needed to find a case of laudanum to determine how many bottles are inside.

  She came upon the boxes of laudanum and chloroform first thing. They were stored in the corner of a narrow space that seemed to be a buffer between the front room and the next room.

  She carefully opened the door across the narrow storage room and peeked inside. “Mr. Schnell?” she whispered as her eyes took in a parlor room that would do the Queen proud. Rich red velvet furniture gathered around a beautiful cherry settee table. A crystal chandelier hovered above and sparkled with gas lights. Finely filigree patterned gold wallpaper and matching carpet finished off the room.

  “What are you doing?” Schnell yelled as he entered the parlor from another door and stormed towards her. She stepped back crossing the narrow storage space, until she hit the wall.

  “I’m sorry, sir.” Her hands shook as she opened her book. “The ledger says that twelve cases of laudanum were bought just Tuesday, but I can’t find any in the stock out front.”

  “Why are you taking inventory? I told you to work on prices!”

  “I need to find the case so I can count the bottles inside, then determine the amount of liquid inside a bottle. It’s the only way to price it correctly.”

  His clenched fist relaxed upon her explanation and he let out a long sigh. He pointed to the cases in the corner. “There.”

  She turned to go to them, but he grabbed her arm. “Never enter my parlor again. If I’d had a client with me, you’d be gone now. You understand?”

  “Gone?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Fired.”

  She suspected ‘gone’ was a little more serious than ‘fired’.

  “Now don’t disturb me again.”

  “I won’t.”

  He turned and disappeared into the beautiful parlor, leaving Vic alone in narrow, dreary, storage room.

  Upon counting the content per case, she returned to the front room and completed her calculations. Having nothing further to do, since no customers had entered the shop, she sat and read about symptoms and recommended solutions.

  She specifically read up on laudanum and chloroform. Given the normal dosage, half of the ladies in London would need to patronize this shop to account for that sizable order.

  At seven, her landlady arrived and asked for a bottle of tonic water.

  The only ingredients she had to make tonic water were water and gin.

  The landlady leaned in and whispered, “Make it strong, why don’t you. I feel tired to my bones. Just like you did, when I gave you that furnished room.”

  Vic smiled slightly and poured the bottle two thirds full of gin. When she started to top it off with water, the landlady pulled the bottle from her hand and took a deep swig, then handed it back to her. “That’s a good one. Just top it off with the same.”

  Vic glanced to ensure Schnell was safely tucked away in his parlor before topping off the landlady’s ‘tonic water’.

  “You’re a doll; you are. Glad I got you this job. Be careful walking home later. These streets can be dangerous, especially for a pretty lass like you.”

  She waddled off to the door and paused before opening it. “Oh, a bizzie might be dropping by your room to look over Maggie’s possession, but if they take the woolen blanket I loaned the poor woman, you’ll have to replace it.”

  Vic struggled to keep her mouth shut. She had bought Pete that blanket and she’d be damned if she’d pay for it twice.

  The woman didn’t wait for a response. She just waddled outside and then picked up her pace. Evidently, she didn’t feel particularly safe walking home at night either.

  As the woman disappeared from view, Vic realized her landlady hadn’t paid for her bottle of gin. She hoped the woman didn’t intend to make this a regular thing or Schnell might notice.

  Claire would have never stood for the theft the landlady had forced Vic to participate in. Her dainty, beautiful sister was a force to be reckoned with.

  Vic resumed reading the ailment book.

  “Damn it, I told you to work on the prices, not read books!” Mr. Schnell barked.

  “I finished,” Vic stated and handed him the book.

  He opened it and turned it at angles, then closed it. “That was fast. The last girl spent weeks doing this.”

  “I’m very good at math,” Vic replied.

  Schnell tilted his head and studied her. “What’s your story?”

  She shrugged. “Fell in love with the wrong man. Gave up everything to have him, and then he disappeared.”

  “Figured as much. Well, go on home.” His lack of
interest indicated, he found Jane’s life as pathetic as Vic did.

  “What time should I be here in the morning?” Vic asked.

  He handed her a key. “I don’t like getting up ‘til noon. But you should be here at six.”

  She nodded. “And my pay?”

  “How much is your room?”

  “Two shillings a week.”

  “I’ll pay you three shillings, six pence so you can have some extra for food.”

  Gad! She’d starve and freeze to death on such a pittance.

  “However,” he added in a stern voice, “for that princely sum, I expect you to work a full day and then some, plus keep your mouth shut and never enter the parlor again.”

  Vic nodded her agreement and gave him a faint smile.

  “Then get on with you.”

  Chapter 6

  The walk to Vic’s tenement room was indeed scary. It hadn’t seemed terribly safe when she walked it with Pete this morning, which seemed a lifetime ago. But now, with men lurking in every shadow, and herself dressed as a woman, every nerve in her body was on alert.

  When a hulking man push off the wall and thrust towards her, she slipped her fingers into her hair and removed the pearl comb. Deftly, she readied the weapon in case he attacked her.

  “I’ll pay you for your time,” he stated.

  A seductively low, and somewhat familiar voice spoke from further down the alley. “Honey, that chit don’t want nothing to do with you, but I do.”

  When the man turned in the direction of the tall redhead, Vic hurried down the street, grateful that the not-quite-pretty lady-of-the-night had saved her from having to kill someone her first day on the case.

  By the time she reached her building and climbed four flights, she was exhausted and out of breath. Before she could open her door, someone grabbed her around her waist. He stank of whiskey and urine.

  “Let me go!” Vic yelled and elbowed the man in his stomach.

  Curses fill the air along with a promise to strangle her neck.

  Her door flew open and someone inside demanded, “What’s going on here?”

  She turned and sighed in relief at the sight of Captain Meyers.

  Her favorite Scotland Yard investigator glared at the drunk holding his gut. “Get out of my sight before I have you arrested.”

  “For what?”

  “Accosting this young lady.”

  “I didn’t touch her. Did I?” The drunk fixed his blood shot eyes on Vic, with a none-too-subtle threat left unspoken.

  “He didn’t touch me. I was just startled,” she replied.

  Meyers snorted in disgust and focused on the drunk. “Get on with you then.” Once the man moved off, he motioned Vic into her room.

  Upon closing the door behind her, she explained herself. “I’m sorry I had to back the bastard up, but otherwise he’d hold a grudge.”

  Captain Meyers patted her back. “And you were right. I was just playing my part so he wouldn’t think you and me are friends.”

  He sat down on the sole chair in the room and motioned to Vic to sit on the bed. “I told the landlady this was a crime scene and anything of Maggie’s that goes missing comes back to her.”

  Vic rolled her eyes. “Yes, and she’s holding me responsible.” She checked about the small bed she was about to sit upon. “Damn it! She’s already taken Pete’s blanket.”

  “And I’m guessing a chair as well,” Meyers added.

  Vic nodded. “Did you find anything of interest in Maggie’s belongings?”

  He shook his head. “I got nothing.”

  Vic smiled at his news, happy she could be the hero once again. “Well, Mr. Schnell just as good as told me he was the murderer and let me know if I talked about his business, I’d end up the same way—dead.”

  “That’s great! Er…not the part about you being killed, but about me having someone to investigate. Do you have an idea yet what he’s doing that you’re not supposed to talk about?”

  That question killed her smugness. “No, but I have a few clues.” She described the fancy parlor in the back and the cases of chloroform and laudanum.

  Meyers scratched his chin in thought. “Sounds like he’s kidnapping people for ransom, but if he is, the people he’s asking to pay haven’t come to us.”

  “None?” Vic asked in disappointment.

  “How about Mr. Thorn? To be honest, I’d go to him first if I had money and wanted my loved one back alive.”

  “Nothing.” Vic released an exasperated sigh. “Well, why else would he be taking people…Wait! Has there been a rash of robberies where everyone in the house slept through a major heist?”

  Meyers shook his head.

  Bloody hell! What good were her clues if they led to nothing? “Can you ask Tubs to watch the alley behind the apothecary and see who enters? I think someone was visiting Schnell today when I came in for the job, but whoever it was never left by the front door, which means he left through the alley.”

  “I’ll pass that on to Mr. Thorn. Don’t think he or Tubs would like it much if I started giving the big fella orders.”

  Vic chuckled. “Worst case, Tubs would just ignore you.”

  “Yeah, well, I still remember the old Tubs, so I’d just as soon not test your theory.”

  “Was he really that frightening back then?”

  Captain Meyers leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Honestly? Not a policeman on the force wasn’t scared to death of him. I saw a man shoot Tubs point blank once. The big guy swatted the fellow away like a fly and walked off.”

  “Then why did all those policemen come running to arrest him today?”

  By her friend’s confused expression, she assumed he hadn’t gotten all the facts. Just like Stone to leave out vital details. Upon explaining what happened this morning, her friend seemed more baffled than ever.

  “That’s most peculiar,” Meyers said. “Conrad is a bit of a bully, but for him to rally… How many did you say?”

  “Nine. Ten including him.”

  “And they didn’t run off the moment they saw Tubs?”

  “No. Tubs left before they arrived.”

  “And still they stayed?”

  “Until Stone arrived and sent them back to work.”

  Meyers rubbed his head. “That’s just not right. Nine you say?”

  Vic nodded. “Can you tell me why it’s not right?”

  “Truth is, being a constable for the docks is hard and dangerous work. That means they often come to each other’s whistle, knowing the returned favor might save their life one day. But they expect when they’re called, it’s something they won’t die for. These men learn early on to pick their fights and there’s an unspoken rule to choose your battles carefully. That’s why a lot of murders aren’t even reported. They got a good idea who did it and they don’t want to go after them. Tubs was one of the men they never went after.”

  “So Conrad shouldn’t have called them on this.”

  “No. And when they arrived and learned it was Tubs…” He paused. “Maybe they didn’t realize it was Tubs.”

  “They did when Conrad told Stone that Tubs had killed Maggie.”

  “And did they get upset?”

  “No. They seemed a bit tense, but I attributed that to Stone’s presence.”

  “Any chance you caught any of their names?”

  “Afraid not, but one looked like Santa Claus dressed as a constable.”

  Meyers smiled at her description. “Fredericks. I’ll follow up on this.”

  “And what good will that do?”

  “Not sure, but something’s not right.”

  “Wouldn’t it make more sense to interrogate Conrad?” Vic had once undergone a Scotland Yard’s interrogation and still to this day it was the worst non-lethal experience of her life.

  “I intended to, but my interview was stopped before it ever started. Word came from higher up to cut him loose.”

  “Why would someone ‘higher up’ care abou
t Conrad? And how would they have even heard about his interrogation?”

  “Good question, since Stone only asked him to give me a report of what happened. However, before he even finished writing his report, the message came down.”

  Vic scratched her chin as she took all this in.

  “What are you thinking?” Meyers asked.

  “That Conrad has connections with someone of true power, which gives him power.” She met his eyes. “He could very well be the person of power who killed Maggie. The slicing of the tongue proved the people around here know who killed her. Otherwise, the threat would be lost.”

  “But you said it was Schnell.”

  “I may be wrong there. Schnell certainly knew why Maggie was killed, and agreed with the deed, perhaps even ordered it, but I just realized, he’s only about five-foot-three. Tubs said the murderer was about the size of Conrad, five-foot-six.

  Meyers closed his eyes. “You think Conrad’s working for the other side.”

  “Could be. It could also explain his connections. They aren’t his. They are his boss’s. And by that fancy parlor, I’m guessing Schnell has some well-placed visitors.”

  “If you’re right about this, investigating him could cost me my new rank.”

  The ugly truth hit Vic hard. While she and Xavier did what they bloody well pleased, Captain Meyer and even Stone performed their job only on the tolerance of those above them. They also had to pick their battles if they wished to continue fighting the war.

  “Leave it be. Just let Xavier know what we think.”

  A heavy sigh of relief escaped Meyer as he stood. “I should be going on now. Be sure to lock the door after me. Sorry to say, but some of them will think I’ve had my way with you.”

  His comment startled her. “Really? Is that standard treatment of young women, because if it is—”

  He held out his hand. “Not with me, but if we’ve got bad constables down here, they might take advantage of their power.”

  Nodding in agreement, she walked him to the door and bolted it the moment he left. Good thing too, because not a minute later someone tried the doorknob.