“We did it!” the boy squealed.
“I can see that.” Isobel looked down at Jin, returning the salute. “Excellent work, first mate.”
“She is all yours, Captain Morgan.”
Isobel surveyed the Lady. The sails were furled and the mooring lines were in place along with the cork bumpers to pad the cutter against the dock. All was in order.
“And I was so looking forward to rescuing you again,” she whispered in Riot’s ear.
He raised a suggestive brow at her. But then something shifted in his gaze, sending a frisson of alarm down her spine. One moment he was relaxed, and in the next blink he was lunging towards Sarah on the dock.
Riot grabbed Sarah’s arm and yanked her into the cockpit as he drew his revolver left-handed.
Movement on another boat. A man with a rifle.
“Down!” Riot barked.
A policeman, Isobel realized as she pulled Tobias from the cabin top. He fell atop the girls, and the cockpit became a tangle of children and oaths.
“Atticus Riot! We have a warrant for your arrest! Drop your weapons, raise your hands, and step onto the dock.”
Sarah froze, the blood draining from her face. Tobias made a gurgling sound, and Jin, who’d fought her way free, looked set to bolt.
“The three of you get down below,” Riot said. The calm in his voice was so chilling that the children slithered down the hatch without argument.
As Isobel crouched next to Riot in the cockpit, she took stock of their situation. It wasn’t just one lone officer waiting in ambush. A second officer with a rifle was positioned on a nearby vessel. And a group of men were walking down the dock towards their slip—a number of policemen in their company. She recognized a man in a bowler and dark suit as well as one of the uniformed officers: Inspector Geary and Sergeant O’Hare.
An inspector should’ve put her at ease. It didn’t.
She’d encountered the inspector during a prior case that involved a message written in sand. Geary and Riot had a history. And she knew it wasn’t good.
“Tell your men to stand down,” Riot yelled back. “There are women and children aboard.”
“If you behave civilly, so will we,” Inspector Geary returned. His group had fanned out, positioning themselves behind various boats and crates for cover.
“What’s going on?” Tobias’s face appeared in the hatch, his eyes huge in the dark.
“Get back down,” Isobel hissed, glancing at the mooring lines. Should they attempt to run? If Riot provided cover, she might be able to cut loose the lines and—
Before she could finish the thought, Riot holstered his revolver, and raised his hands.
“Riot.”
He gave a shake of his head. They were cornered. There was no running. Before she could stop him, he hopped onto the dock, with his hands spread at his hips.
“Shall I dance now?” Riot asked.
“You’re not amusing,” Geary sneered. “Walk towards us nice and slow.”
“Tell your men to take their rifles off my family and aim them at me. Unless you brought an army for two little girls?”
Geary gave a sharp gesture to the officers positioned on nearby boats. All rifles swung towards Riot.
“What’s going on?” Sarah whispered from the hatch.
“Stay here,” Isobel hissed. “If anything happens, untie the lines and let the Lady drift out to sea.”
Before her daughters could argue, she climbed onto the dock to join her partner, who had stopped a good twenty feet from the men.
“…we aren’t obligated to tell you.” The snippet of conversation came from a man resembling a gargoyle. Everything about him sloped forward. Thick brows, heavy jowls, and a neck that rested on an expansive chest. Inspector Geary. He was looking smug after delivering that last statement.
Towering over the group was his giant uniformed shadow, Officer O’Hare. A strapping Irishman who was everything opposite of Geary. And then two men Isobel couldn’t place. A bow-legged man with hooded eyes, a face etched with lines, and a drooping gray mustache; he looked like he’d come straight from a ranch. The lines beside his eyes crinkled as he touched the brim of his hat in greeting. The second stranger was a rough, wiry sort with longish brown hair, whiskers, and a bored look in his eyes.
“True, but it would be the polite thing to do after you trained rifles on my children.” Riot’s tone was conversational, despite being the target of several rifles. Geary certainly wasn’t taking any chances.
“Show me the warrant,” Isobel demanded.
“Well, if it isn’t Mrs. Riot,” Geary said. “Still wearing trousers, I see. That’s grounds for arrest on indecency.”
Isobel showed her teeth. “I’m within twenty feet of my boat, which is private property.”
“You’re here for me; leave my family out of this,” Riot cut in.
Despite Isobel’s orders, Sarah bolted onto the dock. Before she could stop the girl, Sarah threw herself between her father and the guns.
No, no, no…
The men froze. Even O’Hare.
Isobel thought her knees would give out.
“I won’t let you kill my father!” Sarah shouted at the officers.
A tense moment—Riot afraid to make a move lest the men think he was reaching for a weapon, and the men afraid of shooting a child.
“Sarah, get behind me,” Riot ordered. But Sarah wasn’t having any of it.
The graying man cleared his throat. “That’s noble of you, Miss. But we’re not here to shoot your father.” He gestured for the men to lower their guns, and after a stubborn moment the officers did so.
Riot slowly put his hands on Sarah’s shoulders and forced her back. Isobel took a ragged breath and grabbed Sarah’s arm, so she wouldn’t run into the line of fire again.
“Put your hands on your head and turn around,” Geary ordered.
Hatless, without a coat, Riot placed his hands on his head, and turned to face her. He looked so tired. Resigned, even. There was an apology in his eyes.
Both criminals and lawmen hunted him. Why couldn’t the powers that be leave them in peace?
O’Hare stepped forward and wrenched Riot’s arms behind his back to clamp handcuffs over his wrists. Each click of the cuffs made Sarah flinch like she’d been slapped.
“At least tell us what he’s being charged with,” Isobel pleaded.
“Are you acquainted with a Montgomery Johnson?” the graying man asked.
Riot twisted to look back at the man. “He was one of my agents.”
“The word being ‘was’. Right up until you put a bullet between his eyes,” Geary said with pleasure.
Murder.
Isobel stood stunned while they loaded Riot into a patrol wagon. When the door clanged shut, Sarah tore out of Isobel’s grip to pound on the wagon. It took two officers to peel Sarah away, and she kicked them both for their efforts.
As the wagon disappeared, Isobel climbed aboard the Lady, cursing up a storm. Tobias’s jaw was unhinged, Sarah stomped aboard crying, and Jin clambered over from another vessel where a policeman had been stationed with a rifle. She had a knife in hand.
That gave Isobel pause. “Jin, were you planning on stabbing an officer?”
“Only if he started shooting.”
Isobel considered her pint-sized daughter for a moment. Some sort of lecture was surely required, but she was at a loss. At least the girl had waited.
“Shooting someone sure sounds like the sort of thing Mr. A.J. would do,” Tobias noted.
“You take that back, Tobias!” Sarah shouted.
“Well, it does…”
Isobel didn’t wait to see if the pair came to blows. There was no time to comfort them. She disappeared below deck to don her ‘proper clothing’: a sensible blouse, tie, split riding skirt and matching coat.
Tobias was right. Montgomery Johnson, former detective for Ravenwood Agency, had betrayed Riot by hiring assassins to kill him. But the assassins had fail
ed in their blundering attempt, and killed Mack McCormick.
When Riot went after Monty, he’d beaten Riot within an inch of his life and left him for dead. She’d certainly wanted to kill Monty herself, and news of his death caused her no grief. Quite the opposite.
“Did Din Gau shoot that man?”
Isobel looked up in surprise. Jin sat on the ladder, her question echoing Isobel’s own thoughts. Din Gau. Rabid Dog. It was the hatchet men’s nickname for Riot. A name born of fear and respect, and a good dose of hatred.
“Of course not. When did he have the chance?” Isobel hesitated over her own question. They had left Riot at the campsite for an entire day to go explore. And Jin knew it, too.
Sarah plopped down on a ladder rung. “They’re going to hang him, aren’t they?”
Before the waterworks could start again, Jin elbowed her sister in the shin. “Do not be so dramatic.”
“They took him away in irons!” Sarah shouted.
“I didn’t say anything!” Tobias yelled from the cabin top.
“Get down here, Tobias,” Isobel ordered.
“You decent?”
“Yes.”
The girls moved into the cabin to make way for Tobias, and Isobel placed a reassuring hand on Sarah’s shoulder. She tried to look them all in the eye at once. Then told the harsh truth. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, but what I do know is that Inspector Geary and his partner dislike Riot a great deal. I need you three to help me. Can you do that?”
Three heads nodded as one.
“Good.” She turned to a small captain’s desk and started writing. “I need you to send a telegram to our attorney, Mr. Farnon. Then go straight home and tell Mr. Tim what happened. Clear?”
“Yes,” they said as one.
Isobel handed Jin the note. “Then I need you three to gather all the newspapers that were published when we were at Willow Camp. I want to know what the press made of Monty’s death.”
“What will you do?” Jin asked.
“I’m going to find the only allies we have—Inspector Coleman and Sergeant Price.” Before Geary and O’Hare could interrogate her husband in one of the City’s famed ‘sweatboxes.’ But she left that part out. Honesty was well and good, but there were some things children did not need to know.
* * *
Keep reading Beyond the Pale…
Also by Sabrina Flynn
Ravenwood Mysteries
From the Ashes
A Bitter Draught
Record of Blood
Conspiracy of Silence
The Devil's Teeth
Uncharted Waters
Where Cowards Tread
Beyond the Pale
* * *
Legends of Fyrsta
Untold Tales
A Thread in the Tangle
King's Folly
The Broken God
* * *
Bedlam
Windwalker
www.sabrinaflynn.com
About the Author
Sabrina Flynn is the author of Ravenwood Mysteries set in Victorian San Francisco. When she's not exploring the seedy alleyways of the Barbary Coast, she dabbles in fantasy and steampunk, and has a habit of throwing herself into wild oceans and gator-infested lakes.
Although she’s currently lost in South Carolina, she’s lived most of her life in perpetual fog and sunshine with a rock troll and two crazy imps. She spent her youth trailing after insanity, jumping off bridges, climbing towers, and riding down waterfalls in barrels. After spending fifteen years wrestling giant hounds and battling pint-sized tigers, she now travels everywhere via watery portals leading to anywhere.
* * *
You can connect with her at any of the social media platforms below or at www.sabrinaflynn.com
Glossary
Avó - grandma in Portuguese
Bai! - a Cantonese expression for when something bad happens (close to the English expression, ‘shit’)
Bahba - Dad
Banker - a horse racing bet where the bettor believes their selection is certain to win
Bong 幫 - help
Boo how doy - Hatchet Man - a hired tong soldier or assassin
Capper - a person who is on the lookout for possible clients for attorneys
Chi Gum Shing 紫禁城 - Forbidden Palace
Chinese Six Companies - benevolent organizations formed to help the Chinese travel to and from China, to take care of the sick and the starving, and to return corpses to China for burial.
Chun Hung - a poster that puts a price on someone’s head
Dang dang - Wait!
Digging into your Levis - searching for cash
Din Gau 癲狗 - Rabid Dog
Dressed for death - dressed in one’s best
Faan tung 飯桶 - rice bucket or worthless
Fahn Quai - White Devil
Fan Kwei - Foreign Devil
Graft - practices, especially bribery, used to secure illicit gains in politics or business; corruption.
Hei Lok Lau - House of Joy - traditional name for brothels at that time
Hei san la nei, chap chung! 起身呀你個雜種！- Wake up, you bastard!
Highbinders - general term for criminals
Kedging - to warp or pull (a ship) along by hauling on the cable of an anchor that has been carried out a ways from the ship and dropped.
King chak - the police
Lo Mo - foster mother
Mien tzu - a severe loss of face
Mui Tsai - little Chinese girls who were sold into domestic households. They were often burdened with heavy labor and endured severe physical punishments.
Nei tai - you, look
Neta - Portuguese for granddaughter
Ngor bon nei - I help you
No sabe - Spanish for ‘doesn’t know’ or ‘I don’t understand’. I came across a historical reference to a Chinese man using this phrase in a newspaper article. I don’t know if it was common, but it is a simple, easy to say phrase that English speakers understood.
Pak Siu Lui - White Little Bud
Sau pan po - ‘Long-life Boards’ - coffin Shop
Si Fu - the Master
Siu wai daan 小壞蛋 - Little Rotten Eggs - an insult that implies one was hatched rather than born, and therefore has no mother. The inclusion of ‘little’ in the insult softens it slightly.
Slungshot - a maritime tool consisting of a weight or "shot" affixed to the end of a long cord, often by being wound into the center of a knot called a "monkey's fist." It is used to cast a line from one location to another, often a mooring line. This was also a popular makeshift (and deadly) weapon in the Barbary Coast.
Sock Nika Tow - Chop Your Head Off - a very bad insult
Wai Daan 壞蛋 - Rotten Egg
Wai Yan 壞男人 - Bad Men
Wu Lei Ching 狐狸精 - Fox Spirit
Wun Dan - Cracked Egg
Wun… ah Mei - Find Mei
Yiu! 妖! - a slightly less offensive version of the English 'F-word'.
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