As they get closer, Isaac realized who it was.
“Shit, that ain’t no marshal.”
“You got to be shitting me.” Ben stopped in his tracks. “I thought you were dead.”
Standing between them and the women was Russell. And he was pissed off.
“If you think we’re going to cut you in, think again,” Ben told him.
“I’m not here to be cut in.”
“You ain’t getting the women, neither.”
“Didn’t come here for them.”
“Well then, what did you come here for?”
“I’m here to kill both of you,” Russell said.
“Think you can take the both of us?” Isaac asked. He sidestepped away from Ben.
Before Ben could say another word, or Isaac take another step, Russell drew his pistol and cut them both down.
The Portuguese captain and his men ran for the safety of the ship. As soon as the captain reached the gangplank, he ordered, “Hoist anchor, set sail immediately.”
Russell walked up to the two men. Ben was dead, but Russell shot him in the head anyway. He bent down and found the key to the wagon lock. He rummaged through Ben’s clothes and found only a few dollars and took it. He went to Isaac, who was still alive and moaning, “I don’t believe this,” over and over.
Russell pointed the gun at Isaac’s head and fired.
“That’s for Bernie.”
Russell watched as the ship prepared to get underway. He would have to wait for the next ship. He rummaged through his coat and took what little money he had. He turned and walked back to the wagon, unlocked the door, and opened it. He saw Sarah and Jenny drugged up, but still alive.
He drove back up to Baltimore Street, headed for the Dollhouse. He got to the red-light district and parked in an alley beside the Dollhouse. Russell had made many dealings with the Dollhouse, but this time he was met with indifference when he walked into the parlor with Sarah.
“What is going on here? This is not supposed to happen. Why you bring them back here?” the owner argued.
“I was stolen from. I got my property back, is all.”
“But the deal was made.”
“I broke that deal. We’ll make a new one.”
The owner looked worried. “You bring trouble here.”
“There won’t be no trouble.”
“How you know?”
“Cause I killed the two bastards that stole from me.”
“What about police?”
“They weren’t around.”
“Okay, okay. Where the other one?”
“Outside in the wagon.”
The owner snapped his fingers and the lady assistant came out to the parlor. “Go outside and bring other girl in here, double quick.”
The assistant hurried to get Jenny.
“Get her upstairs, quickly,” the owner told Russell.
Russell took her upstairs and was met by a maid who held the door open. Russell placed Sarah on the bed. He turned around as the assistant came in with Jenny, putting her beside Sarah.
“We go downstairs and take care of business,” the owner told Russell.
They walked down to the office in the parlor. The owner got behind the window and sat down.
“Next ship due Monday morning. You stay here. Don’t go out. Don’t be seen.”
“How much?” Russell asked.
The owner started to calculate. “Let’s see. Friday, Saturday, Sunday. Including meals. A-h-h-h, any entertainment?”
“Not tonight. But I will want a bath,” Russell said.
“Okay, one bath.” The owner calculated a little more. “Twelve dollars for whole weekend.”
Tired and not in the mood for arguing, Russell gave him the money. The owner snapped his finger and got the attention of one of the maids.
“Follow me,” the maid in red said, and took Russell to the room adjacent to that of Sarah and Jenny. Russell noticed an interior door between the two rooms.
“Can I get some hot water for the tub?”
“Sure, sure. When I get back, okay?” The maid left and shut the door.
Noontime came with a knock at the door. Russell had been waiting on his bath before he slept. He got up from the bed and opened the door. It was the maid, with food.
“You eat lunch, now.”
“Sure, thanks, I am hungry.”
The maid went to leave.
“What about my hot water?” Russell asked.
“You bet. Coming right up.” The maid left him and went to feed the women some soup. Russell walked over to the inner door and put his ear to it.
“Time for their shots.” Russell heard through the door.
“That ought to do for a while.” Russell heard the door close.
At one o’clock, a knock came at his door. Russell opened up and there were three pretty maids, dressed in red Kimonos, with hot water in buckets.
“Come on in,” he said with a smile.
The maids filled the tub and seemed to be waiting for a tip. Russell gave them a quarter each and they started to leave.
“Do you have to go so fast?” Russell asked.
The maids smiled, but without saying a word left.
“Damn.” Russell took his clothes off and got into the tub. He washed himself with soap and water. Sitting there, he began to doze off. Feels so good. Guess it wouldn’t hurt to try out the merchandise. That was his last thought before he fell asleep.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Friday, July 3, 1863
“You said the war was won on July Fifth,” Mike said. “That gives us two days. I need to find my wife.”
“We must stop the Confederate steam cannon at all hazards. Nothing else matters,” Charles argued.
“Without Sarah, life doesn’t matter,” Mike rebutted.
“Do you even know where your women are?” Charles asked.
“I don’t care. We’re not going without Sarah and Jenny.” Then Mike thought of what the kidnappers said. “The men that kidnapped them said they would make good prostitutes.”
“A whorehouse,” Ray said.
“The red-light district is just down the street,” Charles said.
“Then let’s go.” Mike got up, felt a shock of pain run up his left leg, and sat back down.
“You okay, Mike?” Ray asked.
“Have any medicine?” Mike said.
“Yes, I have an ointment in the first aid kit.” Charles went for the medicine.
Mike took off his shirt and rolled up his pants leg.
“Ray, get me a soapy towel.”
Clanging noises came from the room Charles went in.
After unwrapping the old, dirty dressing, Mike tried to do it himself, but it was too painful. “Ray you’ll have to do it.”
Ray used the wet soapy towel to clean Mike’s wounds. Mike gasped and gritted his teeth the whole time Ray scrubbed.
“The scratches on your chest don’t look too bad, but your leg... that bite looks infected,” Ray said.
Charles came back with the ointment.
“Here. Try this.”
“What is it?” Mike asked.
“Damn if I know. The men use it for minor scrapes and burns.”
“Well, give it to Ray.”
Ray smeared some on Mike’s chest and used the rest on Mike’s leg. He rubbed it into the bite wound and all around it.
As Charles handed Ray gauze, he saw the wound and was appalled. “Is that a bite?”
“Mountain lion got him,” Ray said.
“Holy smoke. How did you get away?”
“We did, is all you need to know. The red-light district is just down the street?”
“That’s a bad part of town. A man could get killed or worse yet, shanghaied,” Charles said.
Suddenly, there was a rumbling noise from outside. Ray felt it first. “Earthquake?” Ray said nervously.
Charles opened the back door and walked outside to Baltimore Street. Mike and Ray followed. Charles looked at his go
ld pocket watch. It was 1:03 P.M.
“It’s started,” Charles said.
“What’s started?” Ray asked.
“The cannonade before Pickett’s Charge,” Mike said.
“They heard it here in Baltimore.” He remembered the scene...
***
Over a hundred Confederate canons opened fire from Seminary Ridge. Mike and Ray were with Armistead’s 9th regiment that had formed up in the tree line with the rest of the brigade. The sound was deafening. Mike heard the whistling sound of a Union solid shot that passed overhead and struck the ground with a massive thud just yards away. The unpleasant odor of sulfur drifted along the rank and file...
***
“Hey, you okay?” Charles asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Mike said.
“It’s just after one, so time is short. If you are going after your women, go now. I’ll get us tickets for the four o’clock train to Frederick and meet you back here at three.”
“Two hours?” Mike stated apprehensively.
“If your wife is still in town, that should give you plenty of time to find her and get back here,” Charles said.
“I hope so,” Mike said.
Charles pointed down Baltimore Street.
“Walk in that direction and you’ll come to the red-light district. Meet you back here at three?”
“How am I supposed to know what time it is?” Mike said.
“Here, take my pocket watch,” Charles said.
“Really, your gold watch?”
“Bring it back to me by three.”
Mike slipped the watch in his trousers.
“Come on, Ray,” he said, and he started down Baltimore Street.
“Wait,” Charles said. “Here’s money for the both of you.” He gave Mike two silver dollar coins.
“What’s this for?” Mike asked.
“Never know when you might need a buck,” Charles said.
Mike’s outlook got brighter. “Thanks.”
Mike and Ray hurried along the street, looking everywhere, but with no luck. They came across a line of women and children in front of the post office. Mike saw them reading a big list that hung on the wall.
“What’s that they’re reading?” Ray asked.
“Casualty reports.”
They continued down Baltimore Street. Ray was looking for street signs when a woman on the second floor threw a pail of urine from her window. It splashed on Ray’s shoes.
“Hey watch it!” Ray yelled.
The woman ducked back into her room and shut the window.
“Ignorant bitch,” Ray said.
Mike laughed.
“Ain’t funny!” Ray said.
“Sorry.”
They crossed Hanover Street, and Mike smelled fresh bread baking.
They came to a large intersection. The sign read: “Light Street.” Mike walked into the street and was crossing the intersection. Ray was right behind him, not paying attention to his surroundings. Suddenly, Ray got knocked down by a carriage.
“Watch where you’re going!” the man in the carriage yelled.
Mike spun around. “You okay, Ray?”
“Yeah, only my feelings got hurt this time.”
Mike helped Ray to his feet. “I think we’re real close to the red-light district. You go up there and I’ll go up here.”
“Think it’s a good idea to split up?”
“We’ll cover more area that way. We’ll call out their names as we go.”
Ray went up one street, while Mike went up the next.
Mike came down Gay Street to Baltimore Street and there it was. He had found the red-light district. He walked to Light Street and waited for Ray.
“Where the hell is Ray?” Mike muttered after a few minutes. Standing on the street corner with the heat of the sun on his face, he had a vision of the last time he lost Ray. A disturbing thought ran through his mind. It was in the woods of Gettysburg. He remembered reaching his hand into a slimy pile of guts and fishing out Ray’s Zippo lighter. He thought Ray was dead then. And now the nightmare was creeping its way back into his mind.
Mike snapped out of it when people walked by. “Need to find Sarah.” Mike started to walk away from the meeting point.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Friday, July 3, 1863
From around the corner came Ray. Mike was relieved and ran and clutched Ray, giving him a bear hug.
“Find anything?” Mike relaxed.
“Nothing. A few thought I was some kind of pervert looking for loose women.”
“Well, I found the red-light district. One block that way.” Mike pointed to where he had come.
They started down Baltimore Street and after one block they had their first solicitation. A woman in her fifties was waving at them. She was not the prettiest woman they ever saw, but Mike walked over to ask her a few questions.
She had dark frizzy hair rolled up in a bun and dark circles around her eyes. And to top it off she had a black mole next to her nose. The woman lit a pipe, took a few pulls, and stared at them.
“You two fellows looking for a good time?” She smiled, revealing stained yellow teeth.
“Well, ma’am, not exactly. I’m looking for a certain woman,” Mike said.
“Come on in here, my girls are just as ugly as any,” she laughed exhaling the smoke.
“What?” Ray said, confused.
“It’s a joke, hon. Come on in and have a look around. If you see any you like, let me know.”
Mike took a chance on finding Sarah there and walked up the white marble steps into her establishment. The first thing that hit Mike were the strong odors of tobacco and whiskey. There were six not-so-good-looking, girls sitting along a wall. Mike started to walk out.
“Where you going so fast?” the madam said, and then shut the door. A large man stood at the door and blocked them from leaving.
“Can’t go without leaving a dollar on the table. Them’s the rules,” she said, and blew smoke into their faces.
“You’ve got to be kidding? We don’t have time for this,” Mike said.
“Do I look like I’m kidding?” she said.
It was painfully obvious she was not letting them out the door without a dollar on the table. Since Mike didn’t want any trouble, he placed one of his silver dollar on the table.
“Now can we go?” he asked nicely.
“Sure you don’t want to screw one of my girls?” The madam said. “You paid.”
“We’re sure,” Mike said.
The madam closed in on Mike.
“How about me and you, darling?” She put down her pipe and leaned against him. She put her face close to his. Mike smelled her whiskey breath and pipe smoke.
“Sorry, I’m married,” Mike said awkwardly.
“What does that matter, lover?” she purred. Her yellowed teeth, what was left of them, gleamed with her smile.
Mike gently pushed her away. “I really need to find my wife. She’s been kidnapped.”
“Well, why didn’t you say that in the first place? When was she taken?”
“A while back.”
“You better hope she’s still in town.”
“Where else would they take her?” Mike asked.
“They put the pretty ones on the boat to the Orient, where they get the most money for them as sex slaves.”
“Oh God, no.” Mike felt sick to his stomach. “I really need to find her.”
“Go on, get out of here. Let them pass Henry,” the madam said earnestly.
Mike headed for the door and practically pushed Ray down the steps.
Outside, they could still hear the distant cannonade. Mike walked quickly up the street. Ray saw another prostitute in the doorway, waving at them.
“There’s one,” Ray pointed out.
“Can’t do that again,” Mike said.
“I can,” Ray said.
“We only have one dollar left.”
“I feel lucky this time,” Ray
said.
They went across the street to the house.
“Any new girls?” Ray asked the woman.
“Just me, hon, just one dollar for all this.” She put her chest out, gesturing with her hands.
“Sorry to have bothered you. We’re looking for two women new to town,” Mike said.
“None better than this right here,” she said.
Mike led Ray away from the woman and sat down on the curb, rubbing his sore leg.
“We’re running out of time. The fight in Gettysburg will soon be over, and in two days, so will the war.” His eyes got watery. “If we don’t stop that gun, everything we went through was for nothing.” Mike was in an awful way, and Ray didn’t know what to do about it. Mike eyed an arabber.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Friday, July 3, 1863
The arabber was selling fresh fruit and vegetables from his colorfully painted, horse-drawn wagon. Mike walked over to him with Ray right behind.
“Excuse me sir. Any new girls in town?”
“You mean... those kind of—“
“Yes,” Mike interrupted. “But I’m really looking for my wife. She’s been kidnapped.”
“Along with another woman, named Jenny,” Ray added.
“Well, look, you didn’t hear it from me, but the house at the end of the block is where I’d start looking.”
“Have an address?” Mike asked.
“It’s called the Dollhouse. The worst of the worst,” he said.
“Thank you. Now we have a place to start,” Mike said.
“Well, I sincerely hope you find your women.”
“Me, too,” Mike said.
“Need some fresh fruit?”
Mike didn’t want to spend his last dollar on fruit, so he said, “No money,” and started to walk away.
“Wait, take this. On me.” The arabber handed them each an apple.
“Thanks, mister,” Mike said. He reached in his pocket and pulled out his last silver dollar and handed to him.
“That’s too much money for two apples.”
“Keep it. You’re a good man.”
The apples were not only delicious, but restored their energy. They continued their search, walking down Baltimore Street looking for the Dollhouse. They came to the last building in the block area. There was a strange quietness to the area. No prostitutes hanging around the stoops calling out to men who passed by. Mike became frustrated that he couldn’t find the Dollhouse.
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