“As you wish, monsieur,” said the magician, with a French accent as elegant as his outfit. “Since your audience will be unacquainted with the Magnificent Yannick and his astounding talents, it would be best to start with —”
At the sound of his name, Rémy’s mouth fell open in astonishment.
“Mon dieu — Yannick?” she exclaimed, the words bursting from her lips before she’d even thought them. “Yannick! Is that really you?”
The magician turned sharply toward her. His face was partially cast in shadow by the rim of his hat, but Rémy would have known her childhood friend anywhere.
“Good gracious!” Yannick exclaimed, whipping off his hat to let a flash of white-blonde hair free. “If it isn’t the very excellent Rémy Brunel! Where on earth did you spring from?”
Rémy laughed, dancing forward onto the stage to pull The Magnificent Yannick into a hug. “I perform here, you idiot! Three times a week. I’m the star attraction!”
“Ahem.” They both turned toward Richards, who was on his feet, looking at them both with raised eyebrows. “That is a matter for debate, Miss Brunel,” he said, “and in that debate, I will always have the deciding vote. Perhaps you’d both like to stop wasting my time so that I can see whether Yannick is as ‘magnificent’ as he’d have us all believe?”
Rémy bit her lip, nodding as she retreated to the wings again. She watched as Yannick got into his part with gusto, laughing quietly and willing him on. He was better than she remembered, with more stage presence and a nice turn in tricks. He’d even added in some hypnosis. Richards evidently thought he was good, too. Not that he clapped once Yannick was done, but he did book the magician for a trial week, which was even better.
They embraced again once Yannick came off stage, Rémy’s face fixed in the permanent grin she had worn since she’d first realized who he was. It had been so long since she’d seen anyone from home — anyone from that life.
Yannick pulled back from the hug to look at her, though he didn’t let her go. His bright blue eyes were twinkling, just the way they always had. “I wondered what had happened to you,” he said. “I heard that Gustave had . . . how shall we say it? Got his come-uppance, at last.”
Rémy smiled grimly at the memory of her old circus master, the devil who had forced her parents into a curse that tore them apart and made her into his pet jewel thief. “Oui. Well, he had it coming, wouldn’t you agree?”
Yannick laughed. “Oh, I would . . . I would, Little Bird.”
Rémy felt a jolt at the sound of her old circus name. No one called her by it now, not in her new life in London, and she realized that she missed it. And with that she also realized that it wasn’t just the name she missed. A wave of homesickness rolled over her as she thought of Claudette and Amélie, of her pony Dominique, of the whole company helping to put up the circus tent at each new place they visited, of nights around the circus fire, laughing and eating and just . . . being together. She swallowed, hard, to stop the memories engulfing her heart.
“Hey, what’s the matter?” Yannick asked, his hands still on her arms.
Rémy stepped back and smiled a watery smile. “Oh, nothing. Nothing at all! It’s just so good to see you, and such a surprise! What are you doing in London?”
Yannick glanced at the toes of his shiny black shoes and shrugged. “The circuit in France wasn’t what it used to be. I thought I’d try my luck here. Cross your fingers for me, Little Bird.”
Rémy grinned again. “Ach, you’ll be fine. The Magnificent Yannick always falls on his feet, isn’t that right?”
Yannick grinned back, and Rémy realized with another shock that he had grown up since she had seen him last. He wasn’t the floppy-haired, awkward boy she’d known when they were both small and trying to learn their trade. He was a man now, and he was handsome with it. She wondered for a moment what Yannick saw when he looked back at her and suddenly wished that she’d thought to brush her hair instead of just scrunching it all up into a ball to get it out of the way.
“Where are you staying?” she asked, to pull herself away from the unexpected thought. “Not too far away, I hope? We must catch up, Yannick!”
“Ah, well,” the magician said, ruefully, turning to point at a battered old suitcase that was propped against the wing. “In that respect, I’ll take any advice you care to give me, Rémy. As long as it’s cheap, that is.”
“Oh, well, if you don’t have anywhere, you must come and stay with us,” Rémy blurted, almost before she’d even realized she’d been thinking the words.
Yannick raised a quizzical eyebrow at her. “Us?”
“Yes — J and I live in a place in Limehouse Basin. It’s huge, big enough for you too, of course, if you’ve still got your bedroll and aren’t too proud to sleep on the floor!”
Yannick looked doubtful, and also a little curious. “And this . . . J . . . won’t mind my intrusion into your . . . lives?”
Rémy laughed, “No, of course he won’t.” Then she realized what Yannick had really been asking, and laughed again. “J’s just a boy, Yannick, a street boy who needed a home, just like me. It’s a long story, but now we’re friends and we share an old workshop. Come and stay there with us, at least until you find those famous feet of yours again. It’ll be fun — like old times!”
Yannick grinned along with her, and nodded. “D’accord. Okay, I will.”
{Chapter 4}
NEW TROUBLE
It was early evening when Rémy and Yannick walked back to the warehouse, winding through the throngs of people who crowded the East End streets. Yannick had swapped his elaborate stage clothes for a plain pair of brown trousers and a rough cream shirt, topped off by a cap that made him look far younger and much more like the boy he’d been when they’d first known each other. As they chatted, Rémy thought back to those days, when life with the circus had seemed to be one long, hot summer of fun that would never end. That was before Gustave had realized her talent for stealing jewels, before her life had been as much about breaking into houses as it was about performing on the trapeze. She laughed at another of Yannick’s circus tales and realized that, in his company, she was completely relaxed. Even better, the opal hadn’t twitched once, so her mind was clear of anything but her own thoughts. It was refreshing, for sure. This, thought Rémy, is how all friendship should be — easy and undemanding.
“Do you remember that time outside Rouen,” Yannick said, laughing even as he remembered, “when Marta the elephant took fright and went on the rampage, right into that woman’s vegetable patch? I thought Gustave was going to have a fit!”
Rémy laughed, “I do remember! She only calmed down because of you. You were always so good with the animals. Marta loved you.”
“I felt sorry for her. She shouldn’t have spent so much time in that leg iron.” He scowled for a minute. “Gustave never understood that she would have stayed of her own accord, as long as we showed her love. He always preferred that animals — and people — obeyed him through fear. He was a fool.”
“He was,” Rémy agreed, “but he is gone now, and we make our own lives, at last. Look, here we are!”
They had arrived outside the workshop, which, seen through Yannick’s fresh eyes, she realized seemed rather a corner of nothing. It was just a rotten old wooden door beside a stinking, salty lock. But of course that was what the Professor had always intended it to seem, to disguise what was hidden beyond.
Inside, the fire that burned fiercely in the big fireplace had warmed the space, and the room smelled of fresh cooking.
“Aha,” Rémy said, cheerily. “Looks as if someone was ready for us, Yannick. J’s been cooking stew again!”
“Wot do you mean, again?” asked J, sticking his head around the door to his room. The boy’s face almost completely hidden by a large contraption that looked at bit like a metal globe. He wore it as a hat, making his unruly fa
ir hair stick out all over the place. It seemed to be combined with a pair of the Professor’s night glasses and two sets of conjoined compasses that met in the center of the wearer’s head. It jangled slightly as the boy pulled it off. “You want something else, you only ’ave to say so, Rémy.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she said, seeing J look Yannick up and down.
“Oo’s this then?” The boy asked, putting down the device and shuffling into the room.
“J, I’d like to you meet an old friend of mine, from back in my circus days in France. Yannick, this is J, a very good new friend of mine.”
“It’s wonderful to meet you, J,” said Yannick, offering an opulent bow and holding out a hand for the boy to shake.
J looked a little bowled over by the elegant greeting and flushed as he grasped Yannick’s hand. “Er, likewise, I’m sure,” he said. “You stayin’ for dinner?”
“Actually, J, if you don’t mind, Yannick’s going to stay not just for dinner, but for a few nights. He’s on trial at the Albert Saloon, you see. I said it would be all right. It is, isn’t it?”
“Oh,” said J, a tad awkwardly. “Yeah, o’course it is. Any friend, et cetera. You’d better be happy bunking on the floor, though.”
“You are very kind,” said Yannick, smiling. “I cannot tell you what a relief it is to find a friendly face — more than one — in a new city such as this. I am in your debt.”
“Ah, well, none o’ that,” J muttered, turning back to retrieve his spoon. “Dinner’ll be ready in a mo. Make yourself at home, like.”
There was a knock at the door. With barely a pause, it creaked open on its old hinges to reveal Thaddeus Rec, his battered hat under one arm and a bunch of bright yellow daffodils in the other. The first person he saw as he stepped into the room was Yannick. He stopped dead.
“Oh,” he said, after a moment of silence. The policeman’s eyes flicked from Yannick to Rémy and back again. “My apologies. I didn’t realize you had visitors.”
“He ain’t a visitor. He’s a friend,” J said, raising his eyebrows significantly as he stirred the pot. “Just like you are, Mister Rec. Come on in, grub’s nearly up.”
Thaddeus continued to stare at Yannick. Yannick stared back. Rémy, confused by the sudden and unexpected hostility that had entered the room, took a step between them.
“Ah, Thaddeus Rec, this is my old friend, Yannick. We used to be in the circus together. He’s a magician — he’s just arrived in London and has got a spot at the Albert Saloon. Isn’t that amazing? We’re going to be colleagues again!”
Thaddeus nodded curtly at Yannick, but didn’t relax for a second. At a loss for something else to say, Rémy pointed at the flowers. She’d never seen Thaddeus with any such thing before.
“You are visiting family later?”
“What?” Thaddeus tore his gaze away from Yannick and looked at her for the first time. Then he looked at the flowers, still clutched in his hand. His cheeks flushed a little. “Oh. No. These . . . these were . . . are . . . for you, actually.”
It was Rémy’s turn to blush. Flowers! No one had ever given her flowers before.
“Ah,” said Yannick, a knowing smile in his voice. “So you are the type of girl who likes flowers now, oui?”
Rémy flushed deeper, embarrassed as she saw the amused look on her old friend’s face. Beside her, she felt Thaddeus tense even more and knew he had taken Yannick’s jibe as if it were aimed at him. It wasn’t — Yannick had always teased her in the past and it looked as if the present would be no different.
“You don’t have to have them if you don’t want them,” Thaddeus said with a carelessness he obviously didn’t feel, dropping the daffodils and his hat on a nearby table. “They’re a shameless bribe, really. I’m — ” he cleared his throat, “I’m on official police business. Well, in a manner of speaking, anyway.”
“Police business?” Rémy asked. “Then you’ll want to talk to J, I suppose. Thaddeus is an Inspector with Scotland Yard, Yannick,” she explained.
Yannick’s eyebrows shot up into his fair hair. “A policeman!” he said. “Well, you really are moving in exalted circles now, Rémy Brunel. I will really have to — what is it you English say? — mind my Ps and Qs.” He strolled toward the fireplace and sank into one of the armchairs that flanked it. “Isn’t that so, Mr. Policeman?”
Thaddeus glanced at him, an expression of annoyance briefly passing across his face. “That depends on what you’ve done that I might be interested in, Mr. . . . Yannick, is it?” he said coolly. Then he turned back to Rémy again. “Actually, it’s not J I wanted to talk to this time. I was hoping you might help me. I need a fresh pair of eyes on this case, and I can’t think of anyone better. You know, given your . . . previous, um . . . occupation.”
Thaddeus seemed to suddenly realize what he was saying and looked away, embarrassed. Her criminal past as a jewel thief was something else they never, ever talked about.
“Well, don’t mind us,” said Yannick, apparently oblivious to Thaddeus’s discomfort. “I’m just going to sit here quietly and wait for J’s delicious-smelling stew.”
Thaddeus frowned. “Perhaps we can talk privately?” He suggested to Rémy.
“Anything you have to say you can say in front of Yannick, Thaddeus,” she said, with a touch of irritation. “I’ve known him for many years. He is completely trustworthy.”
Rémy saw Thaddeus’s eyebrows flick up slightly. He looked at Yannick again. “Have we met before?” he asked suddenly. “You seem familiar, somehow.”
Yannick shrugged. “Not that I know of. Perhaps we passed in the street once.”
“Perhaps.” Thaddeus frowned, and then turned back to Rémy. “There’s been a burglary, a strange one, and the second of its kind. It happened last night — well, early this morning, really. One of the big houses in the West End. Hanover Square, to be exact. Jewels taken from a locked safe in a locked room that’s only accessible through the gentleman’s locked study.”
“Hanover Square?”
“Yes. It’s a very well-to-do place. Lots of Lords and Ladies live there. You wouldn’t believe the way they live on that side of town.”
Rémy nodded. “Little men in uniform to open doors for you . . . more jewelry than clothes…”
Thaddeus looked at her curiously. “How do you know what it’s like? You’ve never been there . . . have you?”
The opal tickled, moving against her chest almost as if in warning, just as Rémy saw the policeman’s gaze fall upon the huge ruby ring given her by Lady Sarah. She loved the red stone so much that she hadn’t taken it off since.
“Where did you get that?”
And there it was, clear as day, his doubting voice in her head . . .
Where did that come from? Could Rémy be the thief?
And then, just as quickly . . .
No. No, she wouldn’t do that. She’s changed . . .
But the damage was done.
Rémy leaped toward him. She only came up to Thaddeus’s shoulder, but even so, he took a step back in the face of her towering anger.
“You think it was me!”
“What?” Thaddeus asked, holding up his hands, “No, of course I don’t! I just wondered where the ring came from, that’s all!”
“And you assumed I must have stolen it! As if I am still a thief! As if I hadn’t done enough to prove myself to you!”
“Rémy, wait! That’s not what I meant!”
“But it’s what you thought! Isn’t it?”
“No! No — not really.”
“And here I thought you actually wanted my help, but no, you just wanted to find someone to pin your case on. That would be so easy, wouldn’t it?”
Rémy saw the anger flicker into Thaddeus’s eyes, the brown and blue darkening as if thunder had rolled into the room. His jaw tightened, and
he shook his head.
“How can you say that? How can you even think that after everything? Do you even understand how difficult this entire situation is for me? You’re still a wanted criminal, Rémy! I am a Detective Inspector of the Metropolitan Police! Do you know what would happen if they found out —”
“Then what are you doing here at all, little policeman? Why associate yourself with a disgusting criminal like me? Eh?”
“I don’t think you’re disgusting. Of course I don’t — you know I don’t!”
“But I am a thief, yes? And you are sworn to put people like me in jail. Why else would you be here, eh?”
“I came because I thought you could help me,” Thaddeus said. “I thought, stupidly, that you might want to help me solve this case. I thought — God knows why — I thought we might work well together.”
“How can we work together when you think I am the criminal you are searching for?” Rémy yelled back.
“I don’t! I never even said that!”
“You didn’t have to!”
The both stopped, breathing hard, staring at each other through seething eyes. Something electric sparked between them, and just for a second, Rémy remembered the kiss they had shared, all those long months ago. Thanks to the opal, she couldn’t work out if she was the one thinking about it or if he was.
“Ahem . . .” The discreet sound came from Yannick, still seated in the chair across the room. It cut through the tense silence in the room like the crack of a whip.
Thaddeus jumped, as if he’d forgotten that they were not alone. He stepped away, scowling as he took a deep breath.
“I am sorry,” he said, in a cold voice, “that I intruded on your reunion with such unimportant matters. Good evening. J, I’ll see you soon.”
He turned on his heel and stalked to the door, snatching up his hat with such violence that the discarded bouquet tumbled to the floor. A moment later he was gone, but Rémy was too angry to let Thaddeus get away so easily. She followed him.
“That’s it?” She hissed, incensed, catching him outside on the street. “You’re going to walk into my home, accuse me of theft, and simply leave?”
The Ruby Airship Page 3