"Yes, mum," Werner said. "Thank you, mum."
I said to the older boys, "You take good care of him."
They nodded. "Yes, mum, we will," and hurried out.
I put a sixpence on the sketch book then slid it across the counter to Tenni. "Thank you." I picked up my dress box.
"I'll send word when they return, mum."
When I went out to the carriage, Honor peered at me with a puzzled expression but said nothing.
Later, I watched Amelia fuss over my new dress. Would Werner get to my Ma and back safely? The adults wouldn't harm him in the Pot. But he had to get to the Pot, and children on both sides of that wrought-iron fence ignored convention.
The two older boys will look after him, I thought.
At dinner, I felt anxious, wanting to hear of the boy's safe return, of Ma's answer, something.
Tony said, "Is anything wrong? You've hardly eaten."
I laughed in spite of myself. What wasn't going wrong in my life? "No, I'm fine."
"I hear you went to pick up your Spring dress today."
I'm sure you did. "Yes, and I saw some sketches of my Summer dress. Madame was occupied, so I'll probably go back in a day or so to choose between them." The mashed potatoes were delicious. "She really has done a wonderful job."
Tony gave me an amused smile. "I remember when you first came here. They had to throw your clothes away, they were so torn and filthy —"
Morton glanced up from his meal, a question in his eyes, and I felt mortified. After they stripped them from me without so much as an if-you-please ... they were all I had.
"— and now ... I'm glad you get to wear pretty things."
That sentiment, coming from Tony, surprised me, cooled my anger. When I considered the matter, it seemed amusing. Even as a child during the lean times, when I would have killed for bread, fine clothes meant nothing to me. Warm clothes, now ... a different story. But once I spent my nights fed and in warmth, fancy dresses did garner a certain appeal. "Thank you; I appreciate them."
Tony gazed at me from the other end of our long dinner table for several seconds. "You deserve beautiful things. Those rags were what you had, I know, but they weren't worthy of you."
Why was he saying these things in front of Blaze Rainbow? "Thank you."
Tony drained his wine glass, set it down. A maid hurried to refill it. "I wish you saw yourself the way I see you."
This interested me. "And how is that?"
"To me, you're the most beautiful woman in the world."
I chuckled. Was Tony drunk? "I'm sure Master Rainbow is embarrassed by such talk."
Morton laughed softly. "Men in love are all alike. You're a very fortunate woman."
Interesting. "Have you ever been in love, Master Rainbow?"
He picked up his wine glass. "Can't say that I have. From what I've observed, it usually doesn't turn out well."
I laughed.
"Well," Tony said, "I plan to be the exception." He rose, and came round to my side. "Now if you'll excuse us —"
Morton grinned. "By all means."
The doorbell rang.
"Now who could that be at this hour?" Tony seemed more than a little annoyed.
"I'll get it, sir," Pearson called out, and the door opened.
Tony said, "I'll see what this is about," and went off around the corner. He came back a few minutes later, a perplexed look on his face. "Mrs. Spadros, there's a child here to see you."
I rose and hurried past him to the front door.
Little Werner Lead and the two older boys stood on the front porch. Werner brightened when he saw me. "She said okay."
"What?"
"The message. She said okay. I asked if that was all, and she said yes."
My mother hadn't seen me, hadn't even tried to get a message to me in six years. When I got a message to her that her life was in danger, all she said was, "okay"?
I woke at the pain in my scalp. I grabbed the hand pulling my hair as I fell hard to the floor.
Ma yelled, "After all I told you, why did you go after him? You could have had another year, maybe two. We could have gotten you out of here. You stupid girl! You've ruined everything!" She yanked me to my feet, dragging me by my arm to the carriage, shoving me inside.
I didn't know any of the women in there. "Ma!" I felt terrified. What was happening?
Ma shook her head as if disgusted at me and went inside without saying goodbye.
Didn't she even care enough about me to send a message? "What made you come here?"
Werner smiled. "The shop was closed. I saw you in the paper on New Year's. I know everyone's address in the city." One of the boys behind him laughed, as if they hadn't known that but weren't surprised by it. He turned to Tony. "Hello, Mr. Spadros."
Tony stammered, "H — hello." Then he gained his composure. "I've never met a Memory Boy before."
Werner held out his little hand. "Werner Lead. A pleasure to meet you." He turned to me. "I better get home." He started down the steps.
"How can we get in touch if we need your services again?" Tony said.
Werner gestured towards the messenger booth down the street. "They all know me," he said, and the three of them disappeared in the gloom.
"How remarkable!" Morton said, from behind us.
"We must recruit that child," Tony said. He turned to me. "Where did you find him?"
"The girl at Madame's shop knew him," I said.
Tony nodded. "Very good." He went back inside and to his study, presumably to make plans for what he might do while using the boy's services.
Morton and I returned to the table.
"Some bourbon, please, Mary." I felt relieved that the boy got to Ma and back safely with the message, but I wished I had the opportunity to ask Werner more about her.
Mary turned to Morton. "Would you like anything else, sir?"
"No, thank you."
She turned and left.
"Looks like you dodged a bullet there," Morton said.
"What do you mean?"
Morton leaned his elbows on the table. "It doesn't take an Inventor to see you don't love the man."
I thought of Mary, and Tony, and the vent below us. "That's rather impertinent, Master Rainbow. Not to mention untrue."
He shrugged. "I've never been known to mince words. And as you'll next tell me, it's none of my business."
"So why say it?" I feigned a laugh, feeling uneasy. "Next you'll be telling me you can take me away from all this."
Morton snorted. "I got cured of that nonsense long ago." Mary brought in my bourbon, then left. "No, you'll do what you need to when you're good and ready." He leaned back. "I just hope too many people don't get hurt in the meantime."
His words angered me. “You won’t enjoy working for Roy.”
“What do you mean?”
I spoke softly. “One day soon, you’ll be given an offer you can’t refuse. A loved one’s location. A secret you’d rather not be revealed,” I studied Morton, but he never moved, “and I wager you’ll become Roy’s creature, just like most other members of this household. And if you refuse ....” Or more likely, from what I’d seen so far, run. “Coming here will probably be what kills you.”
Morton said nothing.
I really didn't want to talk with him anymore, so I went to Tony's study. He lay asleep on his sofa, an empty wine glass on the floor beside him. I rang for Tony's manservant, and we got him into his bed. But I pondered Morton's words later that night. It bothered me that I was so transparent.
Perhaps this was why Sawbuck suspected me.
The Records
The next morning, I decided to have our staff outing at the Spadros Country House. With Jane's help, I began coordinating preparations with the housekeeper there. Tony was gone much of the time, and I considered using the target range on my own, but there never seemed to be a good time for it. Like when Tony was engaged with the accountant, Jane had many questions for me, and tasks which only I could do.
I wasn't able to get to Jake Bower's office until a few days later. This time I wore Madame Biltcliffe's mourning garb. Mr. Bower stared at me for several heartbeats, then hurried me inside, alarm on his face. "That veil's much too thin. I've never seen your face plainly, yet I recognized you from your portraits. If you plan to continue this, you'll need a better disguise."
Feigning amusement, I pulled the veil away from my face. He regarded me, then let out a laugh.
"What is it?"
"I recalled our last meeting. At the time, I thought you might be a Hart. Now —"
I leaned forward. "Why do you think so?"
He sat back, hand to his chin, and his eyes narrowed. Then he shook his head. "I don't know, but it was my first thought. The shape of your eyes, the color of your hair. The way you move. How you phrase things." He paused. "Who are your parents?"
"Fanny Kaplan of the Spadros Pot gave me birth. Peedro Sluff claims to be my father, but —"
He gaped at me. "You're Peedro Sluff's daughter?"
I gave a bitter laugh. "As I said, he claims this." Peedro showed no love for me. For all I knew, he claimed I was his daughter to buy his way out of the Pot. But something in Mr. Bower's tone of voice made me curious. "Why? Who is he to you?"
Mr. Bower took a deep breath. "Peedro Sluff was once the finest marksman in Bridges." He glanced away. "It's a long, unpleasant story."
I leaned back. "I'm in no hurry. And he has never been one to suffer questions."
Mr. Bower snorted. "No, he never was, even then."
"So you knew him well."
"Yes," he said, "once, I did."
I heard this story many times before as I played outside the tan linen curtains in my mother's brothel. A police officer tasked to infiltrate a group of Party Time users, who then became addicted. Yet I sat in astonishment at the thought of my father being talented at anything.
The brown-haired man dashed towards us several blocks away, shouting urgently.
Peedro Sluff froze uncertainly as Daniel raced towards them. Then Peedro whipped out a revolver from behind his belt and fired, the motion smoother than I could ever have imagined.
My father could only have been acting as an assassin. Even deeply intoxicated, that night he shot steady and true. But who was his original target? Was it Roy, or someone else?
Daniel was no threat. If Roy had been Peedro's target, then my father betrayed someone. Someone powerful enough to feel he might survive the consequences of killing Roy, yet too frightened to do the deed himself. By shooting Daniel instead, Peedro angered both the Diamonds and whoever hired him to kill Roy.
"Sluff became more wretched with every month, until one day he disappeared. I thought him dead." Mr. Bower seemed more disturbed than glad to learn Peedro still lived.
Something in his tone warned me not to ask further questions on that topic. "Your letter said you had news?"
"I do." He glanced away, took a deep breath and let it out. "The workers at the plant told me they saw a man with a gun, and fled in terror. Jack Diamond came to help them."
I leaned forward. "Are you sure?"
"I spoke with several of them," he said. "Of course, that helps little. I had to pay them a great deal before they would even talk to me."
Something wasn't right here. "See what else you can learn."
He gave me a shrewd look. "Might you be interested in other information? I know you were against learning about the rest of the Diamonds, but I did stumble across an interesting item —"
"What is it in regards to?"
"Your family, if I may be so bold."
My family? Ma? What could he possibly be talking about? "Would you care to be more specific?"
"Not without additional payment, since you forbade me undertake this investigation."
"Can you at least give me the type of information you're speaking of?"
"Financial records, for one."
"Financial records. For one." The way he said it made me think he had much more. "Involving both the Spadros Family and the Diamonds. But not Master Jack?"
He nodded. "Not Master Jack."
I leaned back and opened Madame Biltcliffe's fan. "What price would you put on such dry, tedious fare as financial records?"
Mr. Bower relaxed. "Ah, but the nature of financial records is anything but tedious. Who paid who, and for what, and why — and how often. These are all fascinating subjects, or could be, to the right mind." He paused. "For example, I could spin a scenario with these records which you would find most interesting."
I snorted. "Indeed. The right mind might put unsavory spin on a great many deeds."
He gave me a sad gaze. "You don't trust me."
I shrugged. "Should I?" While I appreciated the information about my father, I had learned through bitter experience to trust no one associated with him.
Mr. Bower said nothing.
This was ridiculous. "You call me here at great risk to my person, yet bring me little information, and that unusable. Then you try to gain further monies from me by making innuendo. I'm sorry if I don't find this conversation diverting."
He leaned forward. "I'm trying to help you. I like you. You seem sincere. I fear you're with associates who are anything but." He paused. "You won't like what I've found."
Interesting, and not in a good way. "I hope you understand my dilemma. I truly can't pay you anything further. While I have a wealthy Family, I'm not privy to their coffers —"
"But you might parlay this information into a great deal of money for yourself."
A great deal of money? This sparked interest for maybe a second, but something warned me against it. "— and I find I fear what you might have to say."
He nodded slowly, his eyes evaluating me. "Then we'll speak no more of it."
I didn't like this. "How do I know you won't sell this information to someone else?"
He gave me a wry grin. "Who would care about such dry, tedious matters as financial records?"
Who indeed. I closed the fan, tapping it on my chin. "All I need do is notify my father-in-law. Roy Spadros would be most unhappy if information were spread about his Family."
Mr. Bower turned ashen. "I meant no offense, madam." He stared at me in horror for a moment. Then his eyes narrowed, color returned to his face, and he spoke with determination. "I must protect my interests and charge fair price."
"I would need to see this information to know what a fair price was."
"But then once seen, I no longer have sole possession of it. You might even refuse to pay, yet how could I retrieve it? You must understand my dilemma."
"That dilemma is yours, sir, not mine. I will pay nothing for unseen information." I rose, but fear gnawed at my midsection. "I trust if you learn anything further about Master Diamond that you will inform me at once."
He bowed. "I am at your service, madam."
Repositioning my veil, I went out into the Plaza and wandered, not considering where.
Jake Bower had information about the Spadros Family he shouldn't have. Yet my words to him were a bluff, and he knew it. For me to inform anyone, I would have to reveal how I got the information, when I got it, and that I had lied to my husband to even meet with Mr. Bower. Alone. Unescorted, and all that.
I didn't understand Tony's obsession with my reputation, or with my safety. It seemed excessive, stifling. I could see why he might want me to be safe. But everyone knew I was a Pot rag — how could they possibly think more poorly of me than that?
I sat on a bench. I had to think.
My reaction to Mr. Bower's news about Jack Diamond bothered me. I had learned to trust my instincts and reactions on cases; they seldom proved wrong.
But what reason did Mr. Bower have to lie? He put himself into terrible danger even talking to workers at Jack's factory. One word from a worker and Jack Diamond might turn his attention to Mr. Bower himself. I began to regret my harsh words to the man. Perhaps he was just trying to help.
What about Mr.
Bower's secret information? His words made no sense to me. What kind of financial information could Bower possibly have?
A mother and three small children passed by, and glancing up at them, I noted I sat in front of Pike and Associates. Going inside, I asked for Thrace Pike, and was sent up at once. "What do you know of your grandfather's associate Mr. Jake Bower?"
Thrace Pike still wore his same suit; I felt amazed that it still held together. He shrugged. "I've never met the man. All I know is what I've heard."
"Which is?"
"He's a good investigator, cunning, and gets information no one else seems able to. He worked with the police at one time, but they had some sort of falling-out and he now despises them."
I nodded. I didn't know what happened with Mr. Bower's wife, but it seemed to cause him pain.
I felt Mr. Pike watching me; he blushed and glanced away. "Why are you here, Mrs. Spadros?"
"Mr. Bower has said things to indicate he has information which could cause harm. It frightens me. If he were to tell anyone I went to him, a blow to my face would be the least of my troubles." I gazed into his eyes. "I didn't know where else to turn."
Mr. Pike straightened. "You were right to come to me." He paused. "Has he threatened you?"
"No. He said he wished to help me, that he had financial information which could bring me a great deal of money, but —"
At the word money, Mr. Pike blanched.
"What is it?"
He shook his head. "My thoughts are horrendous; I dare not speak of it. If I were wrong —" He appeared to undergo some great internal struggle. Finally, he said, "No. I will not make such accusation of any man. Not even — no. Not without proof." Whatever his thoughts were, they distressed him greatly.
What could he possibly be thinking of? "What should I do?"
He paused for several seconds, then he came to a decision. "Leave the matter to me. I will find these records. No one will harm you, I shall make sure of that."
The Ambush
At the Spadros Women's Club, white stone steps with black wrought iron banisters led up to a black door with silver knobs. A man in black and silver Spadros livery opened the door for me.
The Queen of Diamonds Page 18