The Troublesome Apprentice (The Adventures of Xavier & Vic Book 1)

by Liza O'Connor

  “Waste of time,” Stone said and stormed into the store while Xavier led Vic through an alley to the back of the shops.

  They climbed an iron stairway that led to the second floor above the butcher shop. Xavier displayed his expertise with a pick and they soon entered the private rooms of the butcher and his wife. He ordered her to follow his steps, but when she spied the bag from the robbery, she hurried to it. Opening it, she tilted it, showing Xavier that it no longer held any money. He scowled, no doubt, believing they had dragged the Inspector of Scotland Yard out for nothing.

  The satchel, being almost a foot wide, three feet long and two feet high, was remarkably heavy. Vic felt about the sides, poking and prodding. She turned the bag over and discovered the base pushed up revealing a false bottom that opened into the bag. From this view, she could see the handles and the support rims on the top were all made of iron and were wrapped with wiring, leading to the very heavy end of the bag where a battery must reside.

  Vic smiled as it started to make sense. In silent pantomime, she showed Xavier how the bag could be placed over an object such as a money sack. If it contained certain types of metal, the sack would move up inside the bag by the force of the magnetic pull, allowing the hinged bottom to fall back into place.

  It didn’t explain how the count remained unchanged. How did the woman leave another money sack in its place? Vic located the switch that turned on the electrical current from the battery, which revealed a hidden compartment on the non-battery side. If a sack of sand were placed inside this hidden compartment, when the money sack was lifted into the bag, the sack of worthless paper would slide out the end.

  Vic smiled in satisfaction and turned to Xavier. Her smile disappeared at the sight of the beautiful young butcher’s wife pressing a gun to Xavier’s head. Her partner’s scowl indicated a great displeasure at the turn of events.

  “You,” the woman said. “Remove the gun from your holster and put it on the table.”

  She did as the woman instructed.

  “Now, come remove this one’s gun as well. Any false move and he’s dead.”

  Vic acquired his gun and placed it on the same table.

  “Now, grab a tie back off the curtain and secure his hands.”

  Obtaining the tie, Vic returned to Xavier.

  “Tie them tight, or I’ll shoot him,” the young woman warned.

  Vic’s heart pounded with fear as she wrapped the cords about his hands in a very complex knot and pulled them so tight he groaned in pain. She hoped he realized the knot would unravel with the slightest twist.

  “Good, now both of you sit down on the floor,” she ordered while glancing down the stairwell. Holding the gun in their direction, she moved to a corner and pulled up two floorboards. She removed a bag of money, dropped it into the amazing magnetic bag, and closed it. She waited with impatience, aiming the gun at them as she glanced frequently to the stairs.

  The woman either waited for the butcher to come upstairs with news the police had left or a third hostage. Vic feared they would all be shot at that point. With two loaded guns on the table, the woman had sufficient ammunition to kill them all.

  Vic blinked in confusion as the guns on the table slowly crept towards the bag. She hadn’t turned the electrical charge on the magnet off.

  “Don’t even think it,” the woman warned her. “You’ll be dead before you rise.”

  Steps pounded up the stairs. A moment later, the red-faced butcher arrived, his hand pressed against his heart. Gasping for breath, he said “I’ve closed the store, let’s…what the bloody hell!”

  “I discovered them when I came upstairs.”

  “Are they Scotland Yard?”

  “I don’t know who the older one is, but he’s the little bastard who made such a fuss over the scales.”

  “What are we going to do with them?”

  “What do you think? The nosy cretin was examining my bag when I came in.”

  “You aren’t going to kill them?” the butcher asked in disbelief. “Emily, we can’t do that.”

  “Get the horse saddled up, and I’ll be down in a second.”

  “You can’t kill them!”

  “I won’t,” she assured him. “I’ll just knock them out so we have time to escape.”

  Relieved with her assurances, the man ran down the back stairway.

  Xavier shook his head. “It must be hard to live with such a fool.”

  “At least he knows which one of us is clever,” she said. “Are you the police?”

  “No.”

  “Then what are you doing up here?”

  “My partner witnessed your robbery and wanted a bag like yours.”

  The woman picked the bag up with her left hand while continuing to aim the gun at them. “Maybe in his next life, he’ll find one.” She smiled and pointed the gun at Vic.

  Vic stared to the woman’s left and shook his head, hoping the clever thief would think someone stood behind her. The butcher’s wife turned and fired into the corner. The strong magnetic pull from the purse yanked the gun from her hand and sucked it to its side. She reached for a gun from the table but the table was empty. Seeing Xavier had escaped his restraints, she ran out the back door and down three steps before a force violently yanked her from her feet and she slid halfway down the iron steps.

  By the time she recovered from the fall, Vic and Xavier stood above her and Inspector Stone stood below. She screamed with fury and attempted to kick the inspector between the legs.

  “None of that,” Stone declared as he grabbed the young woman’s feet and twisted them hard enough to flip her face down on the steps. She screamed in pain and outrage as he placed shackles on her feet.

  Xavier secured her hands, but had a devil of a time wrenching her grip from the handle of the bag, still stuck to the railing. “Be glad she didn’t nail you with her kick, Stone, for she is remarkably strong.”

  “And smart,” Vic added. “Did you invent the bag?”

  “I’ve never seen the case before in my life,” the woman said. “You brought it with you when you broke into my home, and that is all I will say until my solicitor is called. His name is Andrew Rathbone.”

  Stone’s brow furrowed. “Xavier, help me carry…what is your name Miss?”

  “Go to hell!”

  “Will you help me carry Miss Hell to the carriage Davy has pulled into the alley?”

  “Grab the bag, Victor,” Xavier ordered and attempted to hand it to her. He soon discovered why Miss Hell had taken such a convenient fall.

  Vic rushed to his aid. “Wait, the switch is here, I think…”

  Xavier yanked it again, with no better results. “That didn’t work. Try something else.”

  “Be patient, the magnetic field has to weaken.”

  “Patient?” Xavier exclaimed. “I said nothing when you disobeyed me and jumped on the bag instead of following me in a systematic search of the room. I did not scold you when you almost sliced my hands off with your convoluted knot. I didn’t curse when you became completely engrossed in watching our guns fly off the table and onto the bag, but when you failed to take any effort to protect yourself even as she aimed the gun at your head, I lost all the tolerance I will ever possess!”

  “I was trying to make her believe there was someone else in the room, and since she fired in the direction of my stare, causing her gun to stick to the bag, I am very pleased with my results.” Vic grabbed the bag with both hands and ripped it from the railing. “Shall we go now? For it appears I am out of sorts as well.”

  The carriage ride was a bit of a crowd with two prisoners, two angry sleuths, and one silent Inspector. If Vic thought the unpleasant afternoon was over when they arrived at Scotland Yard, she soon discovered her mistake. She was led to a room with a table and chair and interrogated by police who clearly believed she had robbed the bank.

  When Inspector Stone entered and stopped the interrogation in her third hour of torment, she had never felt so relieved to s
ee someone in her life. He led her back to his office and told her to sit as he poured them each a brandy.

  She took her brandy and downed it in one swallow.

  “I apologize for the hell you’ve been through,” he said.

  “No offense, sir, but the next time I see a crime, unless there are lives at stake, I’m keeping it to myself.”

  He grimaced. “Xavier has threatened the same on several occasions. Unfortunately for you, my men have strict instructions to treat all persons being interviewed in the same manner.”

  “Couldn’t you have given me a reduced sentence?”

  “I allow no exceptions. Well, I did take pity and ended your questioning early,” he admitted.

  “Early? That interrogation lasted longer than my whole life up to now!”

  He smiled. “It seems like that.”

  She glared at him. “Have you ever been interviewed by your men?”

  “No.”

  “Well, I suggest you dress up in a disguise and sneeze at a crime scene. You’ll soon find out why all your suspects seem guilty. Hell, I was one minute from admitting to whatever they wanted me to say if only they would let me go to the water closet.”

  “They should have allowed you to go,” Stone said, frowning as he stared at her stained pants.

  “Well, to be fair, they did allow me a break, but I pissed before I could unfasten my pants,” she lied. In truth, she didn’t dare go with two police standing over her, thus she had no choice but to disgrace herself.

  Xavier burst through the door and stormed over to Vic. “This day has contained several major lessons. Hopefully, you have learned never to involve Scotland Yard in the investigation of minor crimes. Now stop lounging about. We’ve wasted enough of the dear inspector’s time.”

  Stone rose. “Xavier, I apologize…”

  Xavier cut him off. “I want the name of the men who interviewed Vic.”

  Stone shook his head. “They were only following my orders.”

  “Never mind, I’ll get their descriptions from the victim,” he snapped and stormed from the room, pulling Vic in his wake.

  ***

  Having no tub at his place, Xavier had no alternative but to take her home. He dreaded returning her in such a state. He could only imagine the recriminations he would receive from Claire and the damn butler. Nor could he refute them. He had failed to take care of her today—several times.

  “Vic, can you describe the men who interrogated you?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Because I wish to make their lives a living hell.”

  She moved to his side of the carriage. “I know that I’m disgusting, but could you hold me?”

  “Once you tell me who interrogated you.”

  She sighed and moved back to the other side.

  “Victor!”

  “I’m sorry, but, as tempting as your offer is, those men were doing their job, and I must say they do it very well. Had I been guilty of anything, I would have confessed. I can only hope they were as successful with Miss Hell.”

  “They should not have denied you access to the water closet.”

  “They didn’t. However, when I realized they planned to stand and watch, I had no choice but to go in my pants.”

  Xavier sighed. “Come back over here.” She moved over and he pulled her into his arms. “I am so sorry. I should have never had you share the story with Stone to begin with.”

  “Why did you?”

  “Because I was so damn proud of you! Not one of his men, had they the same exact information you possessed, would have ever recognized a crime had occurred. Your intuitive skills are the finest I have ever seen. Stone is quite vain about his own abilities. I wanted him to realize you exceed even his skill.”

  Vic thought this a wonderful reason and beamed at him with great happiness.

  “Stop smiling at me, damn it,” Xavier barked. “I put your life in danger for a mere five hundred pounds. I deserve to be cursed and reviled, not stared at lovingly.”

  “Well, if you reveal my day to Gregory, you will be cursed and reviled, and possibly poisoned at dinner, so may I suggest we simply tell them we were on a very long surveillance and I wet myself rather than leave my post?”

  “I will not lie to cover my failures.”

  “Then allow me to lie and simply refrain from contradicting me? Truly, Xavier, if we tell Gregory what happened today, he’ll try to split us apart. I beg you; let me handle my over-protective family.”

  “Very well, but in doing so, this makes us even.”

  Vic frowned. “Even? What have I done to you that equates to the hell I’ve gone through today?”

  His hand captured her throat and tightened. “You were not the only one put through torment. Recall your own interrogation, worsen it by two, and then you will know what I had to endure.”

  “Was yours truly worse than mine?”

  “The chance to break down the real Sherlock Holmes? They threw everything they had at me.”

  Chapter 42

  Xavier was rather glad they had not shared the truth, for Gregory’s reprimand of the minor event Vic described was quite severe and contained many issues other than her state of dishevel.

  “I must be blunt, Mr. Thorn. I am not convinced your influence is good for Victor. He was a polite young man planning to enter banking before you came into his life. Now he is often rude, ill dressed, and sleep deprived. I grant you are fond of him—”

  “My feelings for Victor exceed ‘fondness’,” Xavier clarified. “And to be honest, I am not pleased with the level of care I have provided Vic, and I do intend to improve. The truth is I’ve never had to care for anyone but myself, and evidently, I am lower maintenance than most. But I will learn how to maintain the pup better.”

  “This is not a ‘pup.’ This is a young man, a special young man.”

  Xavier stared at him a moment. “Hold your thought,” he said and walked into the garden and located Claire and Jonas in their playtime. “Excuse me for the intrusion,” he called out from behind the bushes.

  Claire laughed. “Yes, Xavier?”

  “Is your butler aware of Vic’s true gender?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Thank you,” he said and returned to Gregory. “Sorry, you were saying?”

  “I was saying Victor is a special young man…”

  “Woman,” he corrected. “We both know Vic is a ‘she’ so let’s speak plainly.”

  Gregory seemed shaken by his words. “You know?”

  “Of course, I know. We are lovers, and if ever she wishes it, we will be more than that. I admire and adore Vic. I may struggle with her maintenance requirements, but I will never give her up. As to her impertinence and tendencies toward rudeness, I agree she possesses both, but she didn’t get them from me. First of all, she possessed these characteristics from the first day she showed up to work eight hours late, and secondly, I am not rude. I may be blunt with the truth at times and possess expectations for people to show up for work and do their job, but that is not rudeness, so it is absurd to lay her only two flaws at my feet. Upon your own admission, sir, you raised her and thus you must take credit for her flaws and her extraordinary uniqueness. Moreover, despite what animosity you feel towards me, I shall not return the sentiments, because you raised a woman who is perfect to me in every way. Now, have we finished this conversation so I may go upstairs and tend to my high maintenance pup?”

  “I believe we understand each other very well.” Gregory left the room with his head high and his backbone stiff.

  Xavier climbed the stairs three at a time and located the bathroom. Vic relaxed in a large porcelain tub. A smaller tin tub, filled with foul yellow water, rested next to it. “This isn’t for me, I hope.”

  His pup laughed. “No. I rinsed off before I took my bath. So this water is tolerably clean if you wish to join me.”

  He started to remove his shirt and then stopped. “Better not. I do not have a condom with me.”<
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  “I’m sure Claire has some.”

  “I’ve no doubt, but I’ve interrupted them once in their strange games. I’ll not do it again.”

  “Join me, and we’ll try to be good.”

  He arched his brow in doubt of her claim but lost his clothes and approached the tub.

  “Sit in front of me. That will be safer, I think.”

  “Marginally,” he admitted and climbed in. With her legs curled about his hips, he leaned back onto her breasts as she reached around and washed his chest.

  “All in all this has been a very nice day,” she declared.

  “Oh God!” He reached back and caressed her head. “My poor pup has lost her fabulous brain and is now senseless. Don’t worry my little scamp, I’ll love you all the same.”

  Snaring his hand with her teeth, Vic nipped him. He retracted his digits at once.

  Satisfied she’d won the battle, Vic resumed washing him. “I’m very serious, compared to last week this has been an action packed day.”

  “Action is not always a good thing.”

  “We began the day making love,” she reminded him.

  “Really? It seems a life time ago.”

  “And in the carriage you assuaged my fears and convinced me you truly do love me as much as I love you.”

  He kissed both her hands. “I stand corrected; the day has been worth all its troubles.”

  “Why did you lead Albert Finn to believe we are lovers?”

  “Albert jumped to the assumption the moment he laid eyes on you, for you are a very beautiful young man.”

  “And you are a very striking and spectacular.”

  “What? Not handsome?”

  “You are too extraordinary to be called handsome.”

  “I am middle-aged and craggy.”

  She swept her hands over his body. “Where? I cannot find a crag,” she teased. Capturing his manhood, she continued her playful game. “Is this a crag? Doesn’t feel like anything called by such a silly name, but I suppose it could be.”

  He rolled over and he faced her. “You are soon going to learn what a crag feels like,” he warned as he pulled her mouth to his and kissed her with passion.