Unobtainium 1: Kate on a Hot Tin Roof

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Unobtainium 1: Kate on a Hot Tin Roof Page 12

by Niall Teasdale


  ‘I see them,’ Kate replied. ‘You’re a hundred yards behind them. They just turned left. Hold on…’ She darted across the rooftop, a flat one, she was using as a vantage point, and looked down upon the alley the two men had taken. ‘Got them. They’re going in. The building on the north side of the alley.’

  ‘A tobacco warehouse.’ There was a noise a little like a grunt, distorted by the portio. ‘Now they’ve made me want a fag.’

  ‘I didn’t know you smoked.’

  ‘I don’t. Except for those times when I do. An occasional cigar at the club is my usual vice. I get worse in Kenya for some reason. David accused me of smelling like I’d rolled in an ashtray one day in Nairobi and I cut back to almost nothing.’ There was a pause. ‘Besides, it’s bad for the breathing.’

  Kate jumped across the alley and began walking to the rear of the building. This roof was sloped and she had to balance on a few inches of brick at the edge. It had occurred to her that most women, Antonia included, would find it hard to perform such a feat, and harder still in heeled boots, but it seemed quite natural to her. Another of those ‘features’ her father had gifted her with somehow. Master Sun had suggested performing his forms in such an outfit was unconventional, but if she could do it then it indicated even greater inner balance.

  ‘I see no easy way in. There is a loading port in the eaves here which I could get to. I do not recommend you use the same door.’

  ‘Perhaps not. And not tonight. We retreat and return soon after dark tomorrow. I feel the need for a change of clothes before entering this jungle.’

  ‘Should we not inform Inspector Franklin of the location and have him send constables?’

  ‘I think that by the time they have gained entry, even assuming the slavers do not have a snitch in the Yard, half the girls would be dead and the men ready to fight. If they do obtain prior warning, all the girls would be dead and the men long gone. Besides which, we do not know that this is the location we seek. No, we will enter, and if this is the lair of such foul men as we believe, we will seek to rescue those captured and detain the criminals.’

  Richmond, 8th August.

  ‘I do believe you may be enjoying this a little too much,’ Kate opined.

  Antonia was sitting on the floor of the drawing room with shotgun parts arrayed before her as she carefully cleaned them. ‘I am finding the excitement more than a little to my taste,’ she replied without rancour. ‘David and I were active people. We explored, we hunted. When we were back in England we would frequently simply go walking to be outside in the fresh air.’

  ‘I would not describe the air around Whitechapel as “fresh.” I would, in fact, find it inaccurate to describe it as air.’

  ‘That as may be, I have missed activity. I crave the thrill of the chase and this escapade has given me that thrill. And, should we succeed, we will have done some good in the world. Now, you have your sword and your Webley?’

  ‘I do. My revolver lies in its case. I’m not as familiar with its use as I might be…’

  ‘You will find that a Webley is a reliable weapon and you may find that it comes in useful. Your natural abilities and training with the rifle should suffice to make you an excellent shot. Should this kind of action become a habit, I shall undertake to instruct you in some techniques which may be useful in close confines. I shall have this brute and my Mauser. The Germans may be disagreeable at times, but they do make a quite excellent automatic pistol. And Mister Browning’s Auto-5 is a most suitable close-quarters weapon. Belgian, but we shall not hold that against it.’

  Kate giggled. ‘I know little of either country, or the people who live there. Mrs Morton was always somewhat disparaging of foreigners. You say the same things, but I do not think you are as serious.’

  ‘I have my doubts on the Germans, some of them anyway, but generally people are people. Nationality and colour of skin have no bearing on temperament, you’ll find. I’ve known white men who were absolute scoundrels and black men who held honour above all else. No, I do not take seriously my disparagement of other nations and I do not believe that any woman could.’

  ‘Why women in particular?’

  ‘Kate, most women cannot vote. We can own property in our own names, but we are treated much as we have been for centuries, as chattels. Women are considered fine operators of the latest technical marvels of the world, but we remain, in the eyes of men and society, as weak, and silly, and unsuitable for management and politics. I have love for neither but I should like the choice of refusing them. No, how can we, we women, consider others our inferiors when we are treated as such ourselves? And how can men who consider half their own nation’s populace inferior consider themselves superior to anyone?’

  Kate pondered for a second. ‘But Charles isn’t like that.’

  Antonia smiled. ‘Charles is prone to it by education, but is, I believe, too much of a scientist to allow it to affect his judgement. He is so scientific that he will not postulate a theory without adequate evidence to work with. We return to Conan Doyle for he wrote that when one creates theories without facts, one tends to twist the facts to fit the theory, or more correctly, one ignores the facts which do not fit the theory. Charles makes up his mind about people once he knows them, and when one knows someone it is not prejudice to call them bad or evil, for you know them to be.’

  ‘Then I’m lucky to have met you and Charles. My own nature surely calls for prejudice beyond that earned by any normal man one might meet, and you have both treated me as a civilised human being.’

  ‘My dear Kate, you are a civilised human being. None may say otherwise in my presence without receiving the utmost censure.’

  ‘As I stated, I am clearly a most lucky woman for having the company I keep.’

  Wapping.

  Kate dropped from the apex of the roof, landing easily on the beam which stood out above the loading door. It was meant for a block and tackle such that heavy objects could be lifted up easily, but it served as a passable perch for a girl with preternatural balance. She employed that and her unnatural strength as she dropped again, hanging from the post by an arm and a leg so that she could lean forward and press her ear to the wood.

  There was nothing to hear beyond the split wooden door and she managed to prise it open without too much difficulty. Apparently no one had considered this point of entry to be a viable one since they had not locked it. Dropping to the boards inside the building, Kate removed her portio from its pouch and thumbed the button.

  ‘I am in. I shall attempt to locate some evidence of the ring and then make further contact.’

  ‘Be careful,’ Antonia said from the street below. ‘If this building does house our missing girls, the other occupants are not likely to take kindly to your presence.’

  ‘The feeling will be mutual.’

  The attic space seemed to be stocked with lengths of two-by-four and a lot of rolls of something which looked like fishing net made of galvanised iron twisted together. Kate had never seen the like of it, but thought, perhaps, that the two components might make a sturdy cage for a girl without her strengthened constitution. That she considered a good sign and hurried to locate a means of getting down, which she found in the form of a staircase in one of the corners.

  From the arrangement of the outer windows and general knowledge, Antonia had surmised that the building had one, lower, high-ceilinged room which was the main warehouse, perhaps three storeys in height. Above it would be another floor, perhaps open, perhaps divided into rooms. As Kate descended, she discovered that it was a bit of both. Half the building was open, but contained a few crates which gave her some opportunity for cover. The other half appeared to be rooms of some sort and she could hear voices from those. A moment of concentration resolved words, but in no language she knew, or even recalled hearing.

  Seeing another staircase across the floor, she moved towards it as quickly and quietly as she was able to, finding that it dropped to the floor below in three stages with
a small landing between each flight of stairs. Moving down to the first of these, she looked out on the warehouse floor.

  There were cages there, each about six feet by six feet and no taller than she was. Each cage was made of wooden posts bolted together with the metal netting nailed across it. Each had two pallets laid on the floor with a blanket and no pillow. She counted ten cages in two rows of five, and in all fifteen girls occupying them. At a table set between the rows, three men sat playing cards. She could see a shotgun leaning against the table, and one pistol. It was likely all three were armed.

  Backing up the stairs, she located a spot behind some crates away from the occupied rooms and took out her portio. ‘I have located the girls. They are on the ground floor with three men doing a poor job of keeping watch over them.’

  ‘Any others in the building?’ Antonia asked.

  ‘I believe so, but they are in rooms upstairs, out of sight, and I have no way of determining how many.’

  ‘That is tactically disadvantageous.’

  Kate looked around and then grinned. ‘I may have a way of slowing their progress if I can achieve it without alerting them.’

  ‘Very well. If you are discovered, fire your pistol. I will hear the shot and attempt to make entry. Be most careful, Kate. Charles would be most upset with me if you came to harm on this enterprise.’

  ‘I will be most careful, Antonia, for we cannot have that.’

  She took it slowly, because she wished to be sure of no one hearing her. With her strength she could easily have moved two crates at a time, but she took one, and then another, placing them in front of the three doors which opened out onto the larger space, and then piling additional ones atop them. Within ten minutes she had a wall, two crates deep and two across, in front of each of the doors. It would not be impassable, the doors hinged away from her barricades and they would be able to push through, but it would slow them significantly.

  ‘They are contained, for a time anyway. Should I attempt to let you in the door?’

  ‘No, dear, I shall make my own entry. Prepare yourself.’

  Kate untied the string which tethered her revolver over her left shoulder and hung it by her right hip. She broke the gun open and checked the load, and then snapped it shut, taking it in her left hand before slipping her sword free from where it was slung on her back. Suitably prepared, she slipped down the stairs in time to see one of the guards arriving at the door.

  ‘Goodness!’ Antonia’s voice came from the opening doorway. ‘I was not expecting to find someone home. Very good. Kirsty Wickhampton-Smythe of the Temperance League. I’m here to ensure that none of your slave girls are drinking!’

  The reaction was, probably, to be expected. The man, a tall, thin figure wearing a wide-brimmed hat indoors, pulled a pistol from his belt and waved it at Antonia. ‘Kom in! Nou!’

  Kate saw Antonia step inside, her hands raised and no weapon visible. As usual for these occasions, she was dressed in a brown coat and skirt with a white, high-collared blouse beneath it. ‘Oh, Afrikaans. Haven’t heard that in ages. Welkom by London. Ek hoop vir jou olifant is opgehou.’

  The man peered at her as though she was insane, pushed the door closed, and then turned his head in the direction of his compatriots, who were now on their feet at the sound of voices. ‘Daar is ’n paar krankzinnige vrou hier.’ As he turned away, Antonia’s arm snapped down, her elbow punching into her hip. Her hand closed around something and there was a sharp crack. The man crumpled in front of her and she moved rapidly to slough her coat.

  The other guards were moving now, heading around the cages. One of them held the shotgun, while the other was wielding an automatic pistol of some sort. Kate vaulted the railing of the landing and then dropped, rolling out of the fall and coming to her feet to start off towards the gap in the cages. The two slavers emerged to find a Webley revolver and a Browning shotgun aimed at them.

  ‘Gentlemen,’ Antonia said, ‘please drop your weapons. I have shot less honourable beasts than you for far less reason, so drop them now!’

  ‘Indringers!’ Apparently Antonia’s plea was not going to be accepted without a fight. The guns began to lift and both women fired first.

  ‘They’ll be down in a minute,’ Antonia said as the guards sank to the floor.

  ‘Not until they get past the crates I put in front of the doors.’

  ‘All right. Free the girls and send one for the police. I’ll keep an eye on things upstairs.’ She started for the stairs, her skirt swinging about her ankles as she marched.

  ‘Right…’ Kate walked up to the first of the cages and her sword slashed out. The hardened adamantium edge parted the wire like water and she pushed her pistol into her belt before pulling the gap open wider. ‘What’s your name?’ she asked the nervous-looking blonde within.

  ‘Nelly, mum. Nelly Smithy.’

  ‘Nelly, you run outside and you find the first policeman you can, and you tell him to send aid here. You tell him Mrs Antonia Wooster sent you.’

  ‘Yes’m.’ And Nelly was off, a half-dressed teenager who was soon screaming her lungs out as she ran into the night.

  There was a loud bang from upstairs and Antonia’s voice yelling, ‘I said stay where you are or you’re dead! Bly waar jy is of jy is dood!’

  Kate moved on to the next cage. ‘Get a move on, Nelly,’ she muttered.

  ~~~

  ‘What on Earth did you shoot that first man with?’ Kate asked as they watched the police lead men in handcuffs out of the building.

  Antonia lifted her right arm, showing the inside of her forearm where a curious mechanism was mounted on straps. It seemed to consist of a number of rods and a spring with a small lever placed near her elbow and a derringer pistol mounted on the end of one rod near her wrist. ‘Not the most useful of weapons, except at close range. Push the trigger here against my hip and the gun pops out into my hand, ready to fire. It does take a little getting used to, but it is something of a surprise when you appear to be unarmed.’

  ‘It seemed most efficacious on that man. He went down like a puppet with its strings cut.’

  ‘Being shot through the lung will do that to you, dear. Try to avoid it.’

  ‘I’ll try to remember that.’

  ‘Mrs Wooster, Miss Felix.’ Franklin walked up to them looking tired, but it seemed more general lack of sleep than weariness. The man actually appeared to be trying to smile. ‘Some days are very long, but then they give you something to stay up for when you least expect it. You’ve done a service to the city today.’

  ‘You’re not going to reprimand us for sticking our noses into police business, Inspector?’ Antonia asked.

  ‘If anyone asks, I was most stern.’

  ‘Of course. I am suitable chastened. What will happen to the girls?’

  His face fell a little. ‘We can see to it that a doctor attends them, but they’ll be back on the street tomorrow and likely in trouble of some sort before the week’s out. We’ll try to persuade at least a few to seek a shelter and give it up, but…’

  ‘I understand. It is more than I expected.’

  ‘What about that one?’

  They all looked over at the small, red-haired girl who was sitting nearby in a blanket, shivering. She was pretty, and quite young. If she was sixteen it was a surprise, but she was a well-developed sixteen and it was not so surprising that, orphaned, she had turned to prostitution for a living.

  ‘Miss Chastity will be returning with us,’ Antonia said. ‘I have a friend of hers there who will help her get back on her feet. And, perhaps, she will be one of the ones who comes out better for this ordeal.’

  ‘Well, that would be one good outcome. The press has gathered outside, Mrs Wooster. You may wish to be circumspect in your departure, but you can leave when you wish. I know where to find you if I need you.’

  ‘I think, Kate, it would be best if you departed the way you came. We shall try to avoid your face appearing on the front page.’

 
; Kate grinned. ‘I’ll see you back at the house,’ she said, and then headed for the stairs.

  Richmond, 9th August.

  Kate sat on the rug in the drawing room, carefully examining her sword for signs of damage after the wire-cutting exercise of the night before. She had found none, but she was being most thorough given that it was the sword’s first outing. And it still had not ‘tasted flesh.’ She found the idea of an inanimate object caring what it was used for silly, but still…

  ‘Doctor Barstow-Hall has come calling, Kate,’ Antonia announced as she entered the room, ‘with a newspaper in hand.’ She sounded amused.

  Kate rose quickly, but gracefully, to her feet and smoothed her skirts. ‘Good morning, Doctor Barstow-Hall,’ she said as Charles followed Antonia in.

  ‘Don’t you “Doctor Barstow-Hall” me, young lady.’ He was not looking angry, however. ‘Aside from anything else, it makes me feel old. Compared to you I’m ancient, but there’s no call for torturing me with it.’

  Kate grinned, stepped forward, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. ‘Good morning, Sharles. What have you been reading in your newspaper?’

  ‘Sit, Charles,’ Antonia added, waving Kate to another chair so that Charles could sit down without being ungentlemanly.

  ‘I have been reading that Mrs Wooster has assisted police in the rescue of fourteen young women from the hands of white slavers out of South Africa, no less.’

  Antonia smiled. ‘There is, I am informed, a market in white servants and brides, as well as the obvious employment by brothels. Southern Africa is a harsh environment and they cannot persuade enough young women to go there voluntarily.’

  ‘I see. I have also been reading that, according to one witness, Mrs Wooster was aided by another. I shall read from the description.’ Kate’s cheeks coloured as he flapped open the paper and turned to the inside page. ‘“She did wear trousers like she was a man, so she did, but I know she was a woman for she had as fine a pair of bosoms as I have seen in many a year. And her eyes! Her eyes were glowing gold!” I hope my put-upon accent did not make that indecipherable.’

 

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