Turnkey (The Gaslight Volumes of Will Pocket Book 1)

by Lori Williams

  “Not going to count it?” I asked.

  “Don’t have the time. But you know. Half the money, half the box. About the same. I’ll try my luck.”

  “Your call.”

  “And give me that book you have.”

  “Sure.” I handed it over, and watched as she hid the thin envelopes between the pages of the volume.

  “Clever,” I commented.

  “Thank you,” she said, closing the book and tucking it under her arm. “It seems your poet Pocket was of good use after all.”

  I sighed. “As much as he ever is.”

  The triumphant Helen Blue-Eyes gave me at last a warm smile, patted my shoulder, and turned for the door.

  “Good evening to you, Mister Falston, or whoever you are,” she said as she left. “Best of luck finding your beauty amongst the ugliness.”

  The door closed again and I was alone.

  But not for long.

  Hardly a minute had passed when my would-be partners in crime barged their way inside, loudly cavorting. I rolled my eyes and sat down on top of a billiard table.

  “Oh, ho!” Hack-Jack announced in a loud and pronounced tone. “Look, brothers! We arrive again at the study! Let us partake in a round of cards!”

  “Just shut the door,” I muttered, my long face resting in my palm.

  They complied and immediately started inspecting the opened box.

  “What’s the matter with you?” Gren asked me. “Didn’t enjoy your date?”

  I scowled at him. As if answering for me, Jack flipped up his head in alarm, his hair flying out into its typical, unruly form.

  “Hey!” he barked. “What happened to the money?”

  “What?!?” Gren exclaimed, moving his focus back to the box.

  “There was way more, way more of it filled up in here! This is…this is just pathetic!”

  “What the hell?!?” Gren yelled. “Where did it go?”

  “Tutoring,” I grumbled.

  The other three stopped and slowly turned their eyes on me.

  “What?” Gren quietly, angrily asked. “What do you mean, ‘tutoring?’”

  “I mean, the girl with the skeleton key decided to help herself to the box.”

  “And you let her?!?”

  “Yup,” I dryly replied.

  “What in the name of God is wrong with you?!?”

  “Mister Pocket!” Quill chimed in. “I can understand the urge to woo a young woman—”

  “Quill, please,” I started.

  “But this neither the place nor the appropriate gift to be showering upon your—”

  “Okay, first of all, let me make it clear that I had no desire to shower that girl with anything, let alone the money! And furthermore, the only reason she walked of here with half is—”

  “Half?!?” Gren yelled. “You gave her half?!?”

  “She figured us out!”

  “What?”

  “That’s right. She saw us coming from the start. Threatened to turn us all in if I didn’t give her what she wanted.”

  “And you fell for that?”

  “What was I supposed to do?”

  “Call her bluff. She had no proof on us.”

  “Apart from me with the box in a locked room.”

  “Yeah, but still…I mean, you could’ve…eh…” Gren sighed and gave up the argument. “So it’s over.”

  “Oh, come on,” I said. “It’s not like we’re leaving empty-handed.”

  “That’s true, I guess,” Quill reluctantly agreed.

  “Yeah,” Gren mumbled. “But once it’s split four ways…”

  “Feh,” Jack grunted.

  I couldn’t believe this lot. Here they were, standing around their own little treasure chest of free money, the amount of which they didn’t even know yet, and they were just sulking and moping around like paupers.

  “I’ll be back,” Gren said, downtrodden. “I need another drink.”

  “Hey, hey!” I interjected, stepping into his path. “You can’t leave now! We’re almost out of here!”

  “I’ll be right back!” he promised, hurrying out.

  He was gone before I could continue arguing, and I returned to the billiard table for some reason. I just lied down there, completely flat and stiff, as if I expected the green, fuzzy carpet of the playing space to serve as some earthly grave.

  “You spend a lot of your time in pretend gravesites, Pocket.”

  “Yeah…I need to work on that habit.”

  I sat up after a time and saw Jack and Quill staring at me.

  “You all right?” Jack asked.

  “Me?” I said. “Sure. Just a little tired.”

  “You look it.”

  “Thanks.”

  “We’ll be departing before much longer,” Quill added. “Try to endure.”

  “I will,” I responded with a yawn. “But it would help if Spader didn’t run off in a fit every five minutes.”

  “He’s just…concerned.”

  “Then he’s in good company.”

  “I know. But it’s…well…Gren’s in a hard way with money.”

  “Well, he just got a hold of some. You’d think he’d be in slightly higher spirits.”

  “But his share will be smaller.”

  “At least he gets a share, right? One less odd job or lucky hand of poker he’ll need before earning his dinner, right?”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “You’re right! You really, truly are! Because I can’t see why you so-called pirates are frowning over a free bounty!”

  “T’wasn’t free,” Jack retorted. “We worked hard for this!”

  “Fine, granted. But enough of the pessimism.”

  “But Gren will—” Quill started.

  “Gren will survive with what he’s gotten. He’s stubborn, but I can see that he’s tough. Besides, apart from a little boiler-plating, he seems to be in decent enough shape. Where’s his money going, anyway? Bad luck at the tables?”

  “No…”

  “What then? Debts? Addictions? Expensive taste in his skin-grafted metalwork?”

  “No, no.”

  “Then where’s it going?”

  “Kari,” Jack said in almost a whisper.

  “Shhh!” Quill said, kicking Jack in the knee. “That’s none of his business!”

  “Kari?” I said, sending the name back. “Who’s that? Some pub waitress or lady card dealer?”

  “Nevermind,” she said, looking sincerely uncomfortable with the subject. “Just please trust me when I say it’s a very good reason.”

  They both gave me a very serious set of eyes, and I was worried that I may have crossed a line.

  “Yeah…” I said to them. “I’m sorry. I…uh…didn’t mean to make light out of something personal.”

  “It’s okay, sensei,” Quill said, smiling gently.

  I humbly nodded. Jack grinned and grabbed me by the shoulder.

  “It’s like this, Pocket,” he said. “Sometimes some people have more than just their own problems to tend to. Sometimes some people make other problems their own problems. And sometimes, sometimes, some problems of some people can become some problems for other people if some people aren’t responsible for those problems. You understand?”

  I laughed and smiled at the two. “Sure, Jack. I understand.”

  Quill pursed his lips and cocked her head to the side. “I’m glad someone does.”

  I laughed again. “You two aren’t exactly the classic, ruthless, pirate types, are you?”

  “Nah,” Quill giggled. “Not hardly. And you aren’t a hardened criminal, are you, Pocket?”

  “Not even close.”

  “Then why the price on your head?”

  “It’s a long story, but to sum up…well…I just found the wrong pretty girl in the wrong sleepy building.”

  “Heh. I see. Well, who wants to be ruthless, anyway?”

  “Hey,” Jack interjected. “I can be kinda ruthless.”

  �
�No, you can’t,” Quill said.

  “No, you can’t,” I also said.

  “Aw, to Hell with ya both,” Jack retorted with a mock sneer.

  “Listen,” I said, “in case I forget to say it later, thanks for everything. I mean, the lift and the bed and all.”

  Quill grinned and extended her hand in a nice mimic of stately posture.

  “Mister Pocket,” she said.

  “Miss Quill,” I replied, taking her hand. “Mister…Hack-Jack.”

  Quill’s eyes rolled about for a moment, contemplating, and then the young girl shook her head.

  “No,” she politely said. “Miss Celeste, if you please.”

  I blinked. “Celeste?”

  “It’s too late in the evening for stage names. So let’s start anew. Elle Celeste. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Was she serious? Unless I was mistaken, a possibility that’s sadly never very farfetched, the Celestes were a very notable, very wealthy family from one of New London’s more…comfortable living districts. I could hardly imagine any branch of such a family’s tree living such a sordid life as the girl before me has done.

  “Maybe she was lying. Another fake name.”

  “I considered that, Alan, I did. But…I don’t know…there was something altogether different about the way she wore that name. Something…proud. Almost shining, you know?”

  “Almost celestial?”

  “Heh. I suppose so, barkeep.”

  I nodded as eloquently as I could manage. “Miss Celeste, then,” I said. “Charmed.”

  Hack-Jack was next, gripping my hand and roughly shaking it about.

  “Jack Domino,” he said. “A pleasure.”

  “A pleasure, Mister Domino.”

  The three of us took a moment more to enjoy our exchange of pleasantries, bowing and nodding and shaking and curtsying and honestly enjoying each other’s company. Sure, we were silly mock-ups of high society, playing around in borrowed clothes, but our gestures were sincere. And hell, if that isn’t humanity cultured, then no such thing exists.

  “Do us a favor though, Pocket,” Jack then said. “Keep those names under your hat once you get one back on your head. If our real identities were to get around…well, you can imagine.”

  I smirked. “Pretty big risk, confiding in a stranger. Do I look that trustworthy?”

  He shrugged. “Guess we’ll find out.”

  “I guess we will,” Quill added. “But I suppose at the end of it all, I’d rather you remember us as two-named people than as one-named characters.”

  “I doubt that’ll be a problem,” I gently replied.

  My eyes slid across the room and stopped on the donation box. I thought it over, hopped down from the billiards table, and went to our bounty.

  “What’re ya doing?” Jack asked, watching me place the lid back onto the box.

  “I was thinking,” I replied. “How about we go ahead and get this thing out the window while we’re waiting for Gren? Save ourselves a little time.”

  “Ahhh!” he cackled. “Now you’re thinking like a pirate!”

  “Good to know. Okay, Jack. Climb out that window.”

  “Aye-aye.” Moving quickly, he cast open the swinging frames and pulled his skinny legs over the sill. “All set!” he announced once he was standing out on the tailored grass.

  “All right,” I said, “let’s do this. Quill, can you give me a hand?”

  “Sure can,” she said, moving over and assisting me.

  Carefully, we lifted the box, carried it over to the window, and began sliding it at a tilt out to Jack.

  “There you go,” he said. “Easy.”

  There was a knock at the door. Keeping eyes and fingers on my work, I called out to the sound.

  “Come on in, Gren.”

  The door clicked open. Glancing down and out the window, I saw Jack’s hands clench onto the sides of the box.

  And that’s when I heard it.

  “Thievery!” someone screamed behind me.

  Someone who wasn’t Gren.

  Someone who was about as far away from being Gren as was humanly possible.

  And he wasn’t alone.

  Twisting our heads over our shoulders, we found a furious and gaping mob of gentlemen and ladies stuffing the doorway and grinding their teeth.

  “Oh,” Quill whimpered to the group. “Hi.”

  “Villainy!” someone else shouted.

  My mind raced.

  “All right!” I spoke. “Hang on now! Before we all get mistaken and hotheaded, let me explain!”

  A figure pushed her way from the back of the crowd, gasping. As she broke through into the room, I realized that it was Helen Blue-Eyes, followed by her father.

  “There!” she shouted in her panic, voice ringing of innocence and fear. “There he is, Father! Just as I told you! That…that…ghoul of a man! He tricked me with promises of education and marriage! He has manipulated me, no, us all, for his own devices!”

  “Deceit!” the father shouted out.

  I stared at Helen in disbelief. For a quick moment her face changed, addressing me with a knowing, wily smile before switching back to her mimicked astonishment. The book was still tucked under her arm.

  “Unbelievable,” I grumbled.

  “William!” Helen’s father bellowed. “I pray to God that you have a reason for these actions!”

  I glanced at Quill, who seemed to be looking at me for direction.

  “Hey,” I heard Jack say from outside, “is something happening in there?”

  Still holding a box of money halfway out of an open window, I cleared my throat and formally addressed the group.

  “Esteemed guests, new friends, I am not a man of very many words, so please believe me when I say, sincerely, on behalf of myself and my brothers, the following. Ahem…run!”

  We moved in a panic, the three of us dropping the box at the same time and taking off in different directions. The donation box quickly tilted and slid back into the room. It hit the floor hard, knocking the lid open and spilling its contents into the air.

  The mob erupted, grabbing at Quill and me as we raced around chairs and leapt corner tables. Fortunately for us, most of our attackers chose first to tend to the storm of scattered money, giving me enough leeway to get back to the window.

  Jack’s hand reached in and quickly yanked me out. I tumbled backward, landing stomach up on the soft grass. As I rose, Jack leaned back in and tried to help Quill.

  “Haste!” he shouted.

  “I’m trying!” she shouted back.

  Quill shrieked and as I got to the window, I saw that Helen had caught her by the arm. The others were fumbling with the donations.

  Things seemed bleak, but then spirited, little Quill surprised me. With her free hand, she ripped off her fake mustache and glared at her assailant.

  “This is not how a lady behaves!” she shouted to Helen, who in her disbelief momentarily lost her guard. Quill grabbed the hardcover book the other possessed and bopped her on the crown with it. Stunned, Helen shuffled back. Quill slipped free and jumped headfirst like a rabbit out the window and onto me and Jack’s arms. Of course, we hadn’t expected this, so we were instantly knocked flat onto the ground.

  “Come on!” Quill said, climbing off of our fallen bodies. “Stop lying around! We aren’t out of this yet!”

  And she was all too right.

  “Eloquent exit, Pocket.”

  “Dazed and on my back, Alan. My signature.”

  We ran in the dark, hurrying along the outside of the manor as angry men shouted and climbed out of the window after us. The stars above seemed to cheer us on, popping and glowing with each footstep.

  “Faster!” Jack yelped. “Where the hell is Gren?!?”

  “Good question,” I replied.

  We rounded a corner of the building and came face to face with a wrought iron gate.

  Locked.

  “We’re fenced in!’ Quill gasped, pulling at the gate. />
  “And climbing over’s out of the question,” Jack said, referring to the row of sharp-pointed, decorative spearheads that lined the entire fencing.

  “Okay,” I said, catching my breath, “there could be some other exit nearby, maybe along the bars. Something subtle.”

  Jack snorted and picked up a stone.

  “I’m through being subtle!” he growled.

  “Don’t!”

  He launched his stone without a second thought through a nearby manor window. The shattered glass fell like rainwater. Reveling in his victory, Jack peeled off his mustache and laid it to rest with the shards.

  “Let’s move!” he said.

  “You want to go back in there?!?” I yelled.

  “Do you know another way?”

  I swore and followed them through the hole. We hurried down a dark corridor and up a flight of stairs, feeling for a light. Instead, we found a pair of doorknobs, both of which turned in our hands.

  “You two try the left one,” I said. “I’ll take the right.”

  They nodded and disappeared. I took a deep breath, hoping to find something helpful on the other side of my door, and entered.

  I was met with a chorus of shrieks and sundries thrown at my head as a frantic rush of bodies plowed by me, leaving me tattered, dizzy, and alone.

  I had discovered, it seemed, the ladies’ lavatory.

  Quickly, I grabbed a chair sitting before a lavish vanity mirror and wedged it under the doorknob to block entry to the room. It wasn’t long before someone came banging on the other side, of course, so I hurried out to a connected balcony and actually managed to climb up from it and get myself onto the roof of the place.

  Walking slowly and looking around the area, I quickly spotted Hack-Jack and Quill scrambling out onto the open lawn at the front of the manor. I signaled to them, throwing my arms around like an idiot, but had no luck. Finally in desperation, I removed my shoes and threw them at the pirates.

  The first shoe got no reaction.

  The second caught Jack in the head.

  And after a half-minute of swearing, he spotted me and moved within earshot.

  “I see you both got free,” I stated.

  “And I see you got…onto the roof,” Quill said, perplexed. “Why is that?”

  “Not really sure. Did you find Gren?”