Relieved, she crawled around the settee then stood and tiptoed to the credenza. Holding her breath, she inched the front slat up out of the box. The whir and click of tiny gears accompanied Macak out of the carrier. His metal leg gleamed in the flicker of candlelight reflecting off a mirror on one wall.
“We need to go now,” the woman insisted.
“We need to search the place,” Garrett countered.
Panic spiked. She grabbed Macak and ducked behind the settee. A glance back confirmed she had left evidence of her passage by failing to replace the front slat on the box. Garrett entered the room and she ducked lower, peeking out enough to see him stop next to the credenza. She was ruined.
“What the—”
A knock on the door cut him off.
“Mr. Folesworth,” a strong feminine voice called.
“Get out,” Garrett hissed, hurrying back the other way.
“Open up or we’re coming in!”
Maeko curled around the cat, heart pounding in time with the fist against the door. She heard rushed footsteps in another part of the suite. The front door flung open and the trio she had seen downstairs stormed in with pistols in hand followed by one of the lobby guards. They stopped and stared at the bodies on the floor, expressions turning grim as they dropped into defensive postures. Then the woman gestured to each of the men, sending them through the room in different directions. She knelt to check the bodies and Maeko began an awkward, one-armed crawl behind the settee toward the door. Macak twisted in her hands to lick her cheek with his rough little tongue.
There were sounds of a scuffle and someone shouting. Elsewhere in the suite, a door slammed.
The tower guard came back into the room pushing someone ahead of him.
Ash.
Served him right for being rude to her. She couldn’t help a twinge of sympathy, though, for the terror in his eyes and admiration for the defiant set of his jaw and shoulders. He was trying hard to hide his fear.
The woman turned her gun on him and he flinched. “Who are you?”
“I don’t have to tell you anything,” he growled, though the tremor in his voice belied his confidence.
Maeko couldn’t see the detective’s face from her hiding spot, but she could hear cold promise in the woman’s response.
“You don’t have to, but you’ll be sleeping at JAHF until you do. Looks like your associates abandoned you.”
Ash lowered his gaze, the color of shame rising in his face, twisting more sympathy out of Maeko. “I wasn’t supposed to be in here. They told me to wait on the airship.”
The woman gave a joyless chuckle. “Guess you should have listened.”
Maeko’s insides squirmed. She could stay hidden and maybe they wouldn’t find her before she got a chance to escape. Alternatively, she could let them catch her. It was clear Macak’s owners weren’t going to be rewarding her, but she did know how to get out of JAHF. Ash’s family didn’t look rich, but they weren’t poor either. Maybe they would help her out if she helped him…and he did need help.
Before she could second-guess herself, Maeko gave Macak a little squeeze and he meowed.
With the speed of a lightning strike, the woman vaulted the settee and landed with her pistol inches from Maeko’s forehead. Dread formed a solid lump in Maeko’s stomach when she stared up the cold dark center of the barrel. The woman made a motion for Maeko to stand with her free hand. When she hesitated, the finger on the trigger twitched. Maeko held up one hand to show surrender and stood, moving slow so as not to alarm the woman with the twitchy trigger finger, clutching the cat to her chest. The gun rose with her, trained on her forehead. She met the woman’s eyes. They looked pale gray in the dim light, cold and calculating.
“You.” Surprise made Ash’s voice crack and embarrassment brightened the red in his cheeks.
The stockier of the other two men stormed into the room. The woman stared where she had her pistol aimed with humorless intensity, but Maeko dared a glance at Ash then at the other man. Both looked puzzled.
“What?” the woman prompted.
“Two blokes and a bird beat feet out the back entrance and took off in an airship,” the stocky man reported.
“Isn’t there a guard up there?”
“A guard station. No guard.”
“We’re still hiring,” the lobby guard defended.
“Fools.” Her lip twitched into a sneer. “Did you shoot the airship?”
“Nah. I didn’t want to chance it going down in the street.”
The woman exhaled irritation. The last man stepped out of a dark hallway, looking them all over with disturbing nonchalance.
Maeko met the woman’s eyes again. “I’d have shot it.”
The woman’s sneer turned into in a skeptical smirk. “You would have, would you?”
“Yes.”
“Like you’d know how to shoot a gun, rat,” Ash snapped.
Last time I put my neck on the line for you.
The woman holstered her weapon. “Search the place boys. See what else you can find. Our client is going to be livid when he hears about this.” After the two men she’d arrived with hurried off to do her bidding, she gave Ash and the guard a calculating look. “Take the boy downstairs. I’ll be there in a minute.”
The guard shoved Ash ahead of him through the door.
Once they were alone, the woman gave Maeko a thorough scrutinizing. “You’re not the typical London street rat.” She gestured to Macak. “Is that Mr. Folesworth’s cat?”
Maeko nodded, feeling the twist of anxiety at the inevitable separation from the cat she had just gotten back from Garrett. She dug her fingers into Macak’s fur and he purred, gazing up at her. Tears stung her eyes.
Saving Ash had better be worth it.
“How do you play into this mess, rat?”
“I’m not a rat,” she muttered.
The woman raised her brows skeptically and waited.
“I found the cat in an alley.” Turning him around, she showed his metal leg. “This address is etched inside the leg. I was going to bring him here, but Captain Garrett nicked him from me. I decided to come tell Mr. Folesworth who had his cat. When I got here, the door was unlocked and…” She shrugged.
“And you thought you’d invite yourself in?” The woman narrowed her eyes when Maeko didn’t answer. “Captain Garrett? Is he one of the bludgers who slipped out the back?”
She nodded.
“What can you tell me about him?”
Maeko lifted her chin, more confident without the gun in her face. “Why should I tell you anything?”
The woman’s eyes narrowed more, becoming angry little slits in her face. “You need a reason other than I’m packing iron and you’re not?”
Maeko nodded again, swallowing the lump of fear in her throat. If the woman thought her a rat, then perhaps she would believe that a rat had nothing to lose. It wasn’t much of a bargaining chip, but it was better than nothing.
“I’m a friend of the family.”
Maeko glanced at the gun and gave her a sour look. “Rubbish. You need to lie better than that.”
The woman clenched her jaw. She had a hard face, all sharp planes and angles that might soften with the right hairstyle. The short men’s cut she sported wasn’t that style.
“I’m a private detective. I was hired by Lucian Folesworth’s brother to find him and this cat.” She flicked a finger at Macak and he shrank away, laying his ears back. “His wife,” she glanced at the bodies, “late wife, reported them missing. Now it looks like I’m looking for a murderer as well. If you think that puts me in the mood to contend with an impudent street rat, you’re mistaken.”
The stockier of the two men tromped back into the room. “No sign of the inventor, Em. It looks like his study’s been ransacked too.”
The detective pressed one hand to her forehead.
“Em?” Maeko wrinkled her nose. “What kind of name is that?”
“It’s short for Emerau
de.” The detective closed her eyes and rubbed at her temples now, the muscles in her jaw clenching.
“That’s not much better.”
The gray eyes opened, glaring down at her. “I need you to tell me what you know about the people who were here. Who’s the boy?”
“I’ll tell you what I know if you promise not to turn us in to the Lits.” Unlikely, but it would be easier than breaking out and therefore worth a try.
“You’re a cheeky little rat, aren’t you?”
Maeko turned her attention to stroking the cat.
“Can’t blame you. I know how it is being a girl on the streets,” Em muttered.
There was remorse in those words that made Maeko want to believe her, but it was hard to imagine anyone climbing from the streets to become a detective, especially a woman.
She focused on the feel of soft fur under her fingers.
“Sounds like she’s got you in a corner.” The lilt of amusement in the stocky man’s voice earned him a glare from Em.
The tall man stepped into the doorway of the room Garrett had been in when Maeko arrived, his narrow frame backlit by the flickering of the abandoned candle. He grinned and gave Maeko an appreciative nod. She ignored him. Best to assume they were no more her friends than the Lits were.
“All right. I won’t turn you in if you tell me who the boy is, then show me where you found the cat and where you were when Captain Garrett took him away from you?”
Maeko nodded. “The boy is Ash. He’s Garrett’s son, I think.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere.” Em turned her attention to the two men. “Finish checking this place over, but don’t touch the bodies. We’ll let the Lits do the dirty work. I’m taking the waif and the cat downstairs. Chivvy along and join us when you’re done.”
“Sure thing,” the tall man drawled, revealing an American accent. With a nod to Em, he sauntered back through the doorway.
“You got it, boss.” The stocky man tipped his hat, earning a wry smile and a shake of the head from Em before he too disappeared into another room.
“Why don’t you let me carry the cat?”
Em held her arms out and Maeko turned away, clutching Macak to her chest. “I’ll put him in his crate.”
Em waited for Maeko to slip the cat back into his crate before gesturing to the door. “March.”
With the crate in hand, Maeko marched out of the room as ordered.
Downstairs, Ash stood near the door glowering at the guard still holding one arm while the guard, in turn, glowered at the well-dressed toff standing at the front desk arguing with the desk attendant. The attendant’s eyes lit on Em with a glimmer of desperate hope and the new arrival turned. A coachman hat sat low on his brow, shadowing his face. There was a flash of recognition in his eyes and he stormed toward them, giving Maeko only a passing puzzled glance.
“Detective Wilkins, what’s going on? I came to check on Lucian’s family and they told me I couldn’t go up. Me.” His incredulous tone said he was someone far too important to deny entrance, or he at least thought he was.
Em, her expression drawn with ill tidings, continued walking, gesturing for him to accompany her. At the front desk, she met the growing impatience in his eyes with unflappable somber composure.
“Mr. Jacard, I am afraid Lucian’s wife and daughter are dead.”
The attendant blanched.
The immediate shock on Mr. Jacard’s face turned to denial and anger. “That’s ludicrous. How? I can’t—”
Em slapped a hand down on the desk to silence him. She spoke in a low voice. “Someone shot them in their suite. As long as Mr. Folesworth is still missing, we need to keep a low profile on this. Get the Lits down here,” this to the pallid attendant who gave a jerking nod, “and have them handle the bodies as discreetly as possible. No one talks about this. The Folesworth family is on vacation.” She waited for the attendant to nod again. “Mr. Jacard, I assume you can manage the business in your partner’s absence.”
He looked insulted. “Of course, I’ve done so many times, but I must see…”
“You need to wait until the Lits have had a chance to investigate the scene.”
Mr. Jacard glanced at Maeko now, eyeing the crate she held. His eyes narrowed. “Is that Macak?”
“Yes. The girl found him.”
An odd light sparked in his eyes. “I’ll take care of him.”
When he reached for the crate, Maeko drew it closer to her. Em threw a hand between them, earning an indignant scowl from Mr. Jacard.
“The cat is evidence in a murder investigation now. I can’t let you take him yet. I’m sorry.”
“That’s ludicrous,” he declared again. A favorite word? “It’s just a cat.”
Em’s lips pressed together, her professional patience fading. “You know better, Mr. Jacard. I’ll be delivering the cat to Literati offices. You can take it up with them.” She scrawled a brief note for the desk attendant to pass on to the Lits. The young man accepted it and disappeared through a door behind the desk.
Her assistants arrived in the lobby then. After an exchange of abrupt nods between her and the two men, she bid Mr. Jacard good-bye, then directed Maeko and Ash outside to a coach drawn by two soot-grayed white horses. The same coach Maeko had seen outside of JAHF when she escaped with Hatchet-face. Beyond the coach, she spotted Chaff in the shadows of another building. He must have gone down the stairs as the detective was heading up the lift. She met his eyes and gave a tiny shake of her head to show that he shouldn’t attempt anything. His brows pinched in distress. He stayed in the shadows, watching, eyes searching for opportunity in spite of her discouragement. He wasn’t willing to give up on her, not even when he should.
She glanced away, not letting Chaff see her faint smile, and spotted Mr. Jacard watching from one corner of the tower. Staring at the crate she held, he struck a lucifer, the flame casting strange shadows over his narrow features.
She resisted Em’s prodding.
Were those tears on his cheeks? Had he been close to the deceased? More than a mere business partner?
His eyes jumped up and met hers. He lit the cigarette pressed between his lips, tossed the still burning match down, and stepped back into the shadows.
She hugged the crate to her chest and climbed into the coach.
After a short ride in which Maeko, Em, and Ash sat in stubborn, pensive, and sullen silence, respectively, they pulled up behind the pub. They left Macak in the coach with Rueben, who Em tasked with questioning Ash while Maeko led her to where she found the cat. The mess from the ashbin no longer littered the ground, but the stench lingered and the bin itself still lay on its side awaiting replacement. That made it easy to show them where she had found Macak in the venting. Em stalked around the alley, searching the venting and the grime around it for clues. Amos, the stocky man, stayed with Maeko to keep her from making a break for it.
“What were you doing back here?” he asked.
Maeko looked him over once and said nothing.
“Hiding from the Lits?”
She shrugged.
“I thought you told Em you weren’t a rat.”
She ignored his teasing, turning instead to watch the detective stride back to them.
“Come with us, Amos. I want you to search the place while I talk to the owner.”
“Do I get to search the ladies?” His leering grin won him a scowl from Em.
For once, Maeko agreed with her.
The detective wasn’t one to be outdone, however. “If you can find a lady in this place, you go right ahead.”
With that, she turned her back on Amos and opened the alley door, not troubled by the fact that it wasn’t the proper entrance.
Shame on the owners for not bothering to lock it.
It was an invitation to thieves…and Literati officers looking to snag a sleeping rat. Maybe she was a rat, but did that mean she was worth less than anyone else? That was something her mother always tried to drill into her.
“Act cheap, Mae, and you’ll be treated cheap.”
Now that she understood how much most people looked down on prostitutes, the words rang hollow in her mind.
Setting her shoulders and clenching her teeth against a surge of fresh hurt and anger, she followed Em through the door. They entered the hallway Barman had led her down before. As they passed the first side door, Em nodded to it and Amos peeled off, ducking through it to start his search. The detective continued past the remaining doors, a hound on a scent, tracking straight through the swinging doors into the kitchen.
Heldie spun around from her cooking, still dressed every bit like a harlot.
Not fair, Maeko chastised herself.
Many women of the pirate movement adopted such attire to offend and defy proper elite society. It was rude to assume Heldie’s attire screamed harlot rather than pirate when the pub expressed, at the very least, tolerance of the pirates by allowing Garrett’s band to perform there.
Barman sat at the table counting coin out to an older man in the fine attire of a gentleman, perhaps a successful merchant. Both men turned as the door swung open. Barman stood and the other gent followed his example.
“What’s that rat doin’ back ’ere?” Heldie asked, her sharp voice cracking so she had to clear her throat halfway through.
Maeko met Heldie’s wide-eyed stare. The woman looked away and a creeping dark anger crawled up Maeko’s spine. Who had turned her into the Lits? Maybe it hadn’t been Garrett after all. The black look Barman gave Heldie added weight to the suspicion. Em, on the other hand, appeared pleased to have Maeko’s story verified by their reactions.
“Keep your mouth shut woman and cook,” Barman snapped.
Under the circumstances, Maeko appreciated the sharp tone he took with Heldie, but Em stiffened, incensed by the show of male authority. She didn’t seem the type to submit to any authority. Heldie scowled and spun around, returning to her task with her shoulders hunched. Barman nodded, satisfied, then looked the detective over. Coming to a decision, he turned to the other man.
“It’s been a pleasure, as always. Looks like I’ve got some other business to attend to.”
The Girl and the Clockwork Cat (Entangled Teen) Page 6