Thaddeus glared at Missy. “You,” he said. “Back to try to get me killed again?”
She returned his glare levelly, her expression filled with loathing. “You tried t’cleave my qab.”
“You tried to kill me!” Thaddeus said. “Before I took your hat! My hat! That’s my hat!”
“It’s mine,” Missy said. “You didn’t give me a shilling.”
Thaddeus felt a rush of heat creep through his body. “You b—”
“Language!” the older girl said sharply. “I will remind you that you are in the presence of a member of the royal family of France and a lady of Queen Margaret’s Court.”
“—lack-hearted miscreant,” Thaddeus finished lamely. The memory clicked into place. “Wait, you’re that girl on the airship!”
Alÿs curtsied. “At your service.”
Missy turned to Alÿs, hand out. “’E’s here. Pay up.”
The older girl dropped a handful of coins into her palm. “I hope we can do business again soon,” she said. Missy counted the coins, then tucked them away so quickly Thaddeus wasn’t entirely clear where they had gone. She nodded. Then, with one more venomous look at Thaddeus, she disappeared into the darkened street.
“So,” Alÿs said. “Man who jumps out of airships, are you going to invite me in?”
“I, er—” Thaddeus opened and closed his mouth several times, flustered. Three assassins sent to his house to murder him? That, he could deal with. A former employer pursuing him down a dark alley with a dagger? Inconvenient, to be sure; perhaps even vexing. But this diminutive girl, with her imperious demeanor, was entirely too much to handle. He looked around for help. Donnie smiled serenely at him. Claire was watching him with an expression of curious interest, and was that a tiny smirk on her face?
“Come in, uh, Your Gr—err, my ladyship,” Thaddeus stammered.
Claire was unquestionably smirking now.
“You may call me Alÿs,” Alÿs said. She stepped into Bodger & Bodger and managed, somehow, to create the impression that she owned the place. “And what do I call you, Shoe Man? And your friends?”
“I’m Thaddeus, my la—Alÿs,” Thaddeus said. “This is Claire and, um, Donnie. They’re twins. Bodgers. Um, the Bodger twins.” He shook his head to clear it. “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you,” Alÿs said. “I’ve been running all over London. I would never have found you if I hadn’t happened upon your friend. What did you do to Missy to make her hate you so much, anyway?”
“She set me up. I failed to die. Apparently, she didn’t like that,” Thaddeus said.
“That must be an interesting story,” Alÿs said. “But I’m sure you have many of those.”
“You have no idea,” Thaddeus said ruefully.
Alÿs curtsied again. “Claire Bodger. Donnie Bodger. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“Likewise, my lady,” Donnie said. He glanced between her and Thaddeus. “Don’ get many social callers of th’ royal sort here. Mostly folks from your side o’ the river come ’ere in a more official capacity. You ain’t here to enquire about military clankers. Yet here y’are. That’s three times someone’s come knockin’ and wantin’ to know ’bout Muddy an’ kites an’ airships. What kin we do for you, Alÿs o’ the French royalty?”
“Three times?” Alÿs said. “Who else has been here? What have you told them?”
“Such a lot o’ questions,” Donnie said. He looked Alÿs up and down. “You ain’t here as a member o’ the Court. You look like someone in trouble. Why are y’here, Alÿs o’ Her Majesty’s Court?”
Alÿs deflated visibly. “I’m in trouble,” she said softly.
Claire nodded. “You look hungry too. Sit,” she said. “Have some stew. Tell us about it.”
Alÿs sat gratefully on a stool at the workbench. Between bites, the tale came out. She started with her encounter with Thaddeus on the airship, describing the ruckus that had followed his abrupt disappearance: the ring, the arrest, the standoff, the Cardinal’s intervention. Thaddeus turned pale when she told him the Royal Guard was hunting for him.
The Bodger siblings listened attentively while she told them how she had followed the trail from the shoemaker’s shop to Highpole Street. Donnie’s eyes narrowed when she told them of the murder and her subsequent headlong flight from the Guard.
“Describe the man you saw,” Thaddeus demanded. “Black cloak? White bony hands?”
“I don’t know. Maybe?” Alÿs said. “I only got a quick look. He dropped this.” She pulled out the dagger. Donnie took it from her, examining it closely. He whistled and handed it to Claire, who examined it as well before passing it back to Alÿs.
“You’re lucky you’re not dead,” Claire said. “Go on.”
Alÿs finished her story, recounting her encounter with Missy and her arrival at Bodger & Bodger.
“Well then,” Donnie said after she had finished. “There’s some more pieces.”
“Beg pardon?” Thaddeus said. He was still reeling from the news that he was suspected of being an Italian spy of, apparently, the baby-eating variety.
“This is a conspiracy,” Claire said. “Think of a conspiracy like a machine. If you want to know how it works, you have to understand all the parts. My brother is saying we have more parts now.”
“What parts?” Thaddeus held his head in his hands mournfully.
“We know that you were hired to frame the Queen. It seems the same person who tried to kill you also likely as not killed Kanda. That means we know the mastermind wants to cover his tracks. We know, thanks to your friend here, there’s some kind of vote coming up tomorrow that the Queen was supposed to participate in, though apparently that’s up in the air now.”
“She’s not my friend,” Thaddeus said sullenly.
“Muddy, m’boy, don’t be an idiot. You’re needin’ all the friends you kin get right now,” Donnie said.
Thaddeus looked away, recognizing the self-evident wisdom in Donnie’s words. “Okay, so why was I supposed to frame the Queen? To keep her from this vote or whatever?”
“Mebbe, mebbe not,” Donnie said. “Conspiracies have layers, like an onion.”
“I thought she just said it was like a machine,” Thaddeus said. “Now it’s like an onion?”
“It’s a metaphor,” Claire said.
“Mechanical onions? What sort of metaphor is that? I think you two are just as confused as I am. You’re making this up as you go along.”
Beside him, Alÿs looked pale and withdrawn. Out of her environment, she was nothing like the confident, commanding woman he’d met on the Queen’s airship. She also was much younger than he’d thought, and smaller, too. She gave him a flicker of a smile and looked away.
“So what do we do?” Thaddeus said.
Donnie shrugged. “We wait,” he said.
“That’s what you said before.”
“Patience, Muddy. Our enemy is playin’ a long game. We need to know more.”
“Our enemy?” Thaddeus said. His voice was bitter. “He didn’t try to kill you.”
“’E killed Kanda. She was one o’ us.” Donnie’s face was serene. “We will find ’im. We will punish ’im. This ain’t just about you anymore, Muddy.”
“But we need—”
“Patience.”
“But—”
Thaddeus was interrupted by the door crashing open. Elias, the apprentice, hurried inside, breathing hard. He ran up to the four of them. “I’m back!” he said. “I found out…who is she?”
“This ’ere’s the Lady Alÿs,” Donnie said. “She’s in a bit of a spot. We’ve taken ’er in.”
Alÿs rose and curtsied. “And you are?”
“This is Elias,” Claire said. “He’s the new number two apprentice.”
Confusion played across Alÿs’s face. “Who is t
he number one apprentice?”
“What did you find out?” Donnie said.
“No sign of trouble at Mister Thaddeus’s flat, sir,” Elias said. “No bodies. No coppers. Nothing. No sign that anything happened at all.”
“Except for the hole in my window,” Thaddeus said.
“No sir, Mister Thaddeus,” Elias said. “I mean, begging your pardon, but the window is fine. Brand-new oilskin, all nice and tidy.”
Donnie rested his chin in his hand thoughtfully. “Now that is interestin’,” he said. “More pieces.”
“What do you mean?”
“He means we know more than we did,” Claire said. “Our adversary is organized, meticulous, and disciplined. He, or they, don’t leave anything to chance. They clean up loose ends. They make sure everything is tidy. Which makes it all the stranger that they hired Muddy here.”
“Hey!” Thaddeus said. “I don’t think—”
Claire held up her hand. “Muddy, you know I like you. You are undisciplined and disorganized. You are practically a walking loose end. You’re brave, I’ll give you that. Ain’t too many what wouldn’t balk at jumping out of the back of an airship. But that ain’t why they hired you. You were supposed to be seen, make a big splash. Then you were supposed to disappear. I wouldn’t be surprised if your body was supposed to turn up at some convenient time. Or maybe you weren’t supposed to not stay gone, dunno. Thing is, you were supposed to be dead and you ain’t. Our enemy can’t be liking that too much. Our enemy likes things tidy. You got away. Alÿs saw the attack on Kanda. Things are not tidy. That must be worrying.”
“So what do we do?” Thaddeus asked again.
“We make things more untidy,” Alÿs said.
The Bodgers looked at her expectantly.
“We make things more untidy,” she repeated. “You said it yourself. Thaddeus is a loose end. I wasn’t supposed to see what I saw. If we both come forward, we put our enemy even more off balance.”
“There is a logic t’ it,” Donnie said slowly. “Risky, too. How do you come forward without bein’ arrested? Who do you trust? That’s the thing ’bout conspiracies. You dunno who to trust.”
“I know who to trust,” Alÿs said. “I trust the Cardinal.”
“Wait, the Cardinal?” Thaddeus sputtered. “You mean, the Cardinal cardinal? Old Sourpuss? That guy?”
“Unless there are other cardinals running around London that I don’t know about,” Alÿs said. “Why?”
“I don’t trust him!” Thaddeus said.
“Oh? Why?”
“Because he…because…because nobody trusts him!”
“I do,” Alÿs said firmly. “He is a friend of my father. He looks after me.”
Thaddeus crossed his arms, unmollified. “Nobody trusts him,” he insisted.
“How many people do you know who know him?”
“Well, I, that is, uh…” Thaddeus scratched the back of his neck.
“That’s what I thought,” Alÿs said. “We have an advantage. It’s a small one, but we should use it. We should go tonight.”
“No,” Donnie said firmly.
“Excuse me?” Alÿs said.
“No, m’lady.”
“No? Why not?”
Donnie shook his head. “Reckless. Need time to think. Go tomorrow, after you get some sleep an’ can think with your head clear. Tomorrow evening, when the streets are clear.”
“I think we should go now.”
“Yer a mess. Yer tired an’ scared. Tired an’ scared is when people make mistakes. It’s like you said. Small advantage. High stakes. Be careful. We will find a way to get you t’ th’ Cardinal, if that’s what you want. Tomorrow. Meantime, I’m goin’ out.”
That got a look of surprise from everyone, including Claire. “Now?” she said.
“Yep.” Donnie nodded. He rose from the workbench, clapping Thaddeus on the shoulder. “I’m goin’ t’ go put out the word. Someone killed Kanda. This city is filled w’ artisans an’ craftsmen an’ apprentices of all sorts. Nobody notices us. Nobody pays attention. But we are everywhere. So I’m gonna tell everyone. When yer out and about, keep yer eyes an’ ears open. Spread the word. Someone somewhere knows who this man is. Someone will see ’im. I’m goin’ t’ let people know. Twenty shillin’s t’ whoever tells me where ’e is.”
Thaddeus nodded. He could almost feel sorry for the man. If they were looking for someone, Thaddeus suspected he would be found. Then he recalled the dagger whirring toward his face, and the sympathy evaporated. It would serve the bastard right.
“Why not go to the police?” Alÿs said.
“The police? Look, m’lady, no disrespect, but the long arm o’ the law doesn’t care none ’bout what happens in Old New London an’ certainly not ’bout some foreign artisan on Highpole Street. Besides, you said it yourself. How much do you trust the city coppers?”
Alÿs opened her mouth to protest. The look on Donnie’s face changed her mind. She nodded.
“Okay then,” Donnie said. “You go an’ see yer friend the Cardinal tomorrow. I go an’ talk t’ my friends tonight.”
He shrugged on a huge, heavy overcoat and smiled his placid smile. A suggestion of something malicious glinted behind that smile.
When he had gone, Alÿs slumped. “I wish I were back home,” she said softly. “I want a nice bath, a glass of wine, and for none of this to have happened.”
“Can’t help you with that last one,” Claire said, “but I maybe can help with the first two. There’s a bathtub through the door behind the big mechanical spider. There are two knobs. One on the left is cold water, one on the right is hot. And there is some excellent wine in the storeroom.”
“Really?” Alÿs looked skeptical.
“You think only you nobly types like the fruit of the vine?” Claire said. “Darling, those of us born beneath you know more of the world than you imagine. Who do you think makes the wine you drink? Do you imagine that you get the best of it?” She winked. “The nobility gets its culture the same way they get everything else. From other people. Towels are in the cabinet. I’m afraid I don’t have any clothes that will fit you. There might be something in the apprentices’ supplies that’ll do.” She looked Alÿs up and down. “Who knows? Overalls might suit you.”
15
The sun, which had a long policy of shining on the just and the unjust alike, ascended the sky, doing its best to make the squalor of London just a little bit less squalid.
London was having none of it. The rising sun had to contend not only with the clouds that had settled over the city during the night, but also with the long cloak of soot and coal dust with which London clothed itself. By the time it reached the ground, the light managed to look pale and just a bit dingy.
It shone on a nondescript man with an easily forgotten face and a distinctly Roman nose, who was entering a rental flat just off Highpole Street with a large package under his arm. He wore unremarkable workman’s clothes and solid, practical boots. He moved with the caution of a man carrying an armload of explosives, on account of the fact that he was carrying a large armload of explosives. He looked around furtively before slipping through the door. He was annoyed, because the man from whom he’d purchased the black powder he carried had been late in delivering it to him. Harsh words had been exchanged, and they had very nearly come to blows. Normally, that would not bother the man in the least. But his wealthy and very influential patron had insisted that there be no unnecessary complications, even going so far as to suggest such complications might have implications for their future business relationship, and so the man had swallowed his temper, taken the powder, and left. In the ledger book of his mind, there was a new black mark, however, and he intended to revisit the matter promptly upon resolution of his current assignment.
It shone on the head of a young beggar girl in a hat several sizes
too big for her, who had just dipped her hand in the pocket of a respectable-looking gentleman in an expensively tailored suit jacket and a top-hat of his own, come down to the docks to inspect a load of timber sent on a steam-powered paddlewheel ship from the New World. So intent was he on the lure of future profit that he paid no notice to the urchin girl asking him for a shilling. So deft was her hand, so adroit in the way she lifted the coin pouch from his waistcoat, that he noticed not a thing, a fact that would cause him some consternation in a few hours’ time when he attempted to bribe the dockmaster into releasing his shipment without the normal dreary procedure of customs and tax.
It shone on Commander Skarbunket, dressed in his finest and, not coincidentally, least-comfortable uniform, who glared up at it with no inconsiderable resentment. He had been roused from his bed far too early in the morning by an urgent missive from Lord Gideon Clay of Borneham, demanding an immediate update on what was known of the whereabouts of the Lady Alÿs de Valois and her involvement in a murder. He was groggy and grumpy and not at all happy to be dislodged from his bed. He glowered up at the sun as though it were personally responsible for all the ills of the world, an opinion the sun would, had it the mind to, have considered grossly unfair.
And it shone through the windows of the Queen’s private dining room in the Palace. Ah, here it could do what it was meant to do. There was plenty of gold adorning the moldings along the ceiling to gleam off of, and the table was set with gold-rimmed plates it could make sparkle. Yes, this was much more like it. It gleamed and sparkled cheerfully, almost ready to forgive London its sordid grubbiness.
Her Most Excellent Majesty Queen Margaret the Merciful sat on a gilt-edged chair in front of the gilt-edged table. Her expression was that of one not entirely impressed by the gleam and sparkle of the early morning sun. In truth, she scarcely even noticed it. Her mind was more preoccupied with the knowledge that while she was no longer confined to her quarters, representatives of both her own guard and the Cardinal’s private forces stood just outside the door, lest she forget the cloud of suspicion that still clung to her like the bad smell that sometimes follows one who’s spent the entire evening much too drunk in exactly the wrong company and finds himself waking in the gutter minus his money.
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