The Girl and the Clockwork Cat (Entangled Teen)

by Nikki Mccormack

  The gentleman tipped his top hat and nodded. “I’ll stay for that drink next time, Barman. A good day to you all.”

  The man collected his coin from the table and slipped around Em, skirting through the edge of the doorway to avoid any chance of contact. Given her cross look and the way she’d set her hand on her waist, pushing the coat back to reveal the pistol she wore, Maeko couldn’t blame him. Lingering silence followed then, as Barman and Em sized each other up. Heldie glanced over her shoulder at them, but turned back to her work when Maeko glared at her.

  “Your name’s Barman?”

  “No, Ma’am. It’s Grenville, actually. Folks call me Barman because it’s easier to remember when they’re liquored up. Who are you to be bargin’ into my kitchen when I’m conductin’ honest business?”

  “I don’t care a whit about your business,” Em snapped. Her apparent disgust with lower classes was making Maeko suspect that the detective’s roots were comparably humble. “I’m looking for someone. A younger gentleman, about five-foot, eleven inches, with short brown hair and brown eyes. A rather slight build, almost feminine. He wears spectacles most of the time and sometimes carries a cane. He has a wedding ring on his left hand and a distinctive ring on his right hand made up of an assortment of tiny gears. He usually sports a moustache. No beard.”

  Heldie dropped the spoon she was holding with a clatter and snatched up a plate of food. Eyes downcast, she walked toward the door. As she slipped by, taking the food out to a patron, Maeko noticed the whole plate trembling with the shake in her hands. Something had upset her. Was it just Barman’s reprimand?

  Turning her attention back to the others, she saw Barman pursing his lips in thought. After a few minutes, he shook his head.

  “I see a lot of blokes through here, Ma’am. That description don’t ring a bell.”

  “Do you remember the rat?” Em gestured in Maeko’s direction and she had to fight the temptation to kick the woman in the ankle.

  Not a rat.

  “Indeed I do. She showed up here with a rather odd cat last night.”

  “Yes. The cat belongs to the gentleman I’m looking for.”

  Barman shrugged his broad shoulders.

  “Perhaps you remember the group of musicians you had here last night?”

  “Captain Garrett and his bunch? They’re regular entertainment around here. A great bunch of kids.”

  “Kids?”

  “You know how it is. After you reach a certain age, they all look like kids.” Barman tilted his face away then, giving her a suspicious one-eyed gaze. “Why do you ask? They aren’t in any trouble, are they?”

  “No,” Em lied and Maeko had to give her credit for the absolute confidence with which she did it. She removed her hand from her hip, letting the jacket slide back over the gun, easing the tension in the room. “They might know something about the man I’m looking for. Do you know how I can get in touch with them?”

  “You only want to ask them some questions?”

  “Yes. My name is Em Wilkins. I’m a private detective hired by the man’s family. If they have any information at all, it would help. He has a wife and young daughter who are very worried about him.”

  Tug at the heartstrings. That was Chaff’s fallback if he got in to trouble and he was good at it. Still, it made Maeko feel dirty listening to the woman use the deceased to twist information out of Barman. It looked like it would work too.

  “I know what it’s like to lose someone,” he muttered. His cheeks drooped and a shimmer of moisture gleamed in his eyes. He pursed his lips, staring at the floor a few seconds before looking up at Em again. “I know where they live out in Hammersmith. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind you payin’ a visit under the circumstances.”

  He proceeded to give her directions then introduced her to some of the more regular patrons so she could inquire if any might have seen the man she was looking for. She drew Maeko along with a tight grip on her upper arm.

  With nothing else to do, Maeko listened in and watched around the room. She spotted Heldie chatting with a patron and sucking down large gulps of something out of a mug on the table. The woman stopped by the same table every time she came out with another batch of food and again on her way back into the kitchen, taking a swallow every time she passed and exchanging a word or two with the man sitting there. By the time Em reached Heldie, her cheeks glowed with a bright flush and questioning her proved pointless given the giggling fits Heldie succumbed to a few questions in. The detective lost patience and dragged Maeko back out to the coach.

  “Get in.”

  Maeko braced a hand on either side of the door. “Why? I did my part.”

  Em gave her a stern look. “Do what you’re told or I’ll add another lump to that one on your head. I want to ask you and the boy a few more things about Captain Garrett and his crew.”

  She climbed back into the coach. Someone had let Macak out of his crate. His tail went up and he leapt into her lap when she sat. She scratched his head and he pressed into the affection before curling up there. She didn’t trust Em any more than she trusted anyone else, but at least she’d get to visit with the cat a little longer. Any hope of being part of his life had vanished when she’d let Em catch her. Not that she was set up to care for a cat anyway, but the idea held a certain whimsical appeal. Still, the detective’s investigation involved Macak now, and two people had died. The sooner she left it all behind, the better.

  “My parents didn’t kill anyone,” Ash declared in the silence.

  “I’m sure they just dropped in for a cup of tea,” Em countered.

  Ash jerked toward the detective and the tall man shoved him back.

  “They didn’t—”

  “Be quiet, boy,” Em snapped. “When I want an answer, I’ll ask a question.”

  “The bodies were a couple days old,” Maeko offered.

  Em’s stare was intense. “You’re full of surprises, rat.”

  “I’m right.”

  “You are, but that doesn’t make them innocent. They were there tonight inside the suite. Why would you assume they hadn’t been there before?”

  Maeko shrugged.

  Ash started to say something and Em cut him off with a sharp glare. “This is a murder investigation now, not just a missing person. Rueben’s heard your story. You’ll get a chance to tell it again when the Lits question you.”

  Ash sank into silence, his quiet burning anger heating the interior of the coach.

  Macak looked up at Maeko with his bright yellow eyes and she hugged his warm body to her. Pressing her lips to his head, she murmured, “I’m sorry. I can’t keep you.”

  Em watched her and Ash in silence as the coach moved along and a sense of dread spread within Maeko.

  “Where are your parents, rat,” Em asked after a time.

  Maeko shrugged, falling back on the comfort of silence until the coach rolled to a stop outside of JAHF.

  Chapter Six

  Amos and Reuben turned away from her glances, guilt apparent in the slouch of their shoulders and the avoidance of their eyes. Rueben ducked his long body out of the coach and started up the stairs to the building.

  Maeko glared at Em. She should have lied and given an address for her parents. Why did trying not to lie always turn out for the worst? “We had a deal.”

  Ash looked from one to the other. “What deal?”

  “Sorry, rat. It has to be this way. I can’t have you two running around talking about the case while I’m working it. Besides, you’re better off with the Lits than living out on the streets.” Em’s refusal to meet her eyes held more weight than the words themselves.

  “You don’t believe that.”

  Brushing aside the threadbare curtain that covered the coach window, Maeko saw Reuben already sauntering back down the steps with a familiar Literati officer trotting along behind in an effort to keep up with his long-legged strides. Another officer emerged from the building and started down the steps.

 
Em exhaled, her weary expression aging her face beyond its years. “This really is the only way. There’s a lot at stake here that you can’t understand.”

  Reuben stepped to one side. The officer was reaching for the handle on the door of the coach. Em held up the crate for Macak and Maeko urged him back inside.

  The door opened.

  She gave Em a cold look. “I hate you.”

  “I’m sure you do.” Em handed the crate out to Rueben. “I would.”

  The young officer’s jaw dropped when he looked into the coach. “You again!”

  Maeko channeled all her anger into a glare for Wells as she stepped down to the pavement. General annoyance aside, she appreciated that someone like Tagmet hadn’t come to collect them. Wells she could deal with.

  Reuben handed the crate to the second officer then climbed back into the coach, tucking his long limbs in like a spider retreating into its den.

  The officer looked puzzled. “What’s this?”

  The crate meowed back at him.

  “Put it in the evidence room. It’s part of an investigation. Someone will be by for the cat and the boy later.” Em leaned forward and looked out the door past them. An ironic smirk twisted her lips. “Nice sign. Really gets the message across.”

  Wells glanced over his shoulder at the building. Maeko followed his gaze. A large brass sign on the side read: Literati, For a Brighter Future. Only someone had scratched an l over the r in Brighter so that it now read: For a Blighter Future.

  “Not again.” Wells groaned.

  Maeko stifled a giggle. She didn’t want any of them doubting the sincerity of her hatred, Em in particular.

  The door of the coach closed behind them and it rattled away. Wells, keeping a tight grip on her upper arm, turned to watch the departing coach with a puzzled expression.

  “She never has been one to waste time on pleasantries.”

  Setting aside precious silence before the draw of nagging curiosity, Maeko asked, “You know her?”

  “So you do talk.” The officers started guiding them up the steps.

  “More than she should,” Ash muttered.

  Maeko turned her glare on him, but he refused to look at her.

  “I know the detective as much as any officer does. She’s a thorn in our sides more often than not, but she usually finds what she’s looking for. Tagmet says she has black powder for blood and spits venom three feet when angry.” He gave Maeko a wink and she had to fight back a grin. The image of Em in her mind developed snake eyes, a flat nose, and a long forked tongue, a transformation she thought suited the woman rather well. “I think he might be exaggerating a bit. I can say that they don’t make many women like that one and I think most of us are glad of it.”

  He directed her through the front door. She squinted in the harsh electric lights, finding her eyes drawn to the floor where the heavyset officer had fallen under Hatchet-face’s assault. No trace of the encounter remained. Wells stopped her there, sending the other officer ahead with Ash and the cat. When they were gone, he turned to her. She shifted her feet, uneasy before his searching gaze, though she liked that he hadn’t called her a rat once yet. It made him likeable, the way one couldn’t help liking a clumsy puppy.

  “How did you get away from Dobson? He killed two of our men on his way out of this place. When I heard he’d taken you, I figured we’d start finding pieces of you around the city in a few days. Instead, I find you back in my custody apparently unharmed.”

  The stench of sour sweat filling her nostrils. Ropey, scarred muscles pulling her toward a deadly embrace.

  A shudder passed through her. She could still see his boot smashing down on the hapless rat and feel the press of the ashbin bottom heavy against her back.

  Wells furrowed his brow and his grip on her arm tightened, though she didn’t get the sense that he meant to cause discomfort. The small ache pulled her out of her memory.

  “You poor thing. You must have been terrified.” He shook his head and then met her eyes with more of that bothersome intensity. “Tell me honestly. Did he do anything to you?”

  Do anything? She thought for a second. There was a slight rise of color in the officer’s face. Oh, that kind of anything. She shook her head. When the intensity didn’t go out of his stare, she said, “I ran from him as soon as I got a chance and hid.”

  Wells smiled, the tension relaxing from his face, though the heightened color remained. “Clever lass. We haven’t figured out how he got out yet. Did you see anything?”

  Unlocking her cell had worked to confuse them. One more point for the street rat. They didn’t expect a simple street girl to be resourceful enough to escape their fine facilities. The question remained as to whether she could do it more than once. She shook her head again. “I was sleeping when he came into the cell and grabbed me. He threatened to kill me if I made any noise.” As if I would ever make noise.

  “Sorry to bring up the incident, but I had to be sure. Come along then. Your old accommodations are waiting. We should be able to get you processed and out of this place by tomorrow afternoon.” He spoke as if he believed that was a good thing and started guiding her back to the cellblock. “Sadly, we lost two good men in that incident and we were already understaffed. That’s how I got stuck on this duty.”

  Perhaps you should stop sending patrols out to pester homeless folks.

  He rambled on along the same vein until he had her locked back up in the cell, dropping a few tidbits of useful information that she tucked away for later. Taking advantage of his sympathetic streak, she played up feminine fragility and talked an extra blanket out of him before he left. The cell next to hers stood empty, haunted by memories of Hatchet-face, so she curled up in the far corner on the rough camp bed, wondering what they’d done with Ash. Despite her intent to remain vigilant, the long stretch of too much excitement left her too weary to keep her eyes open.

  Raised voices in the next room snatched her from a restless sleep. She didn’t think it had been long since her arrival, but she couldn’t be sure without a clock. The hands on the one over the door hadn’t moved since she arrived. The other officer stormed into the cellblock, yanking Ash along, his face screwed up tight and red with rage. Ash balked, throwing his weight against the officer’s grip, but Wells followed on his heels, prodding him in the spine with his club to get him moving again.

  “My dad will make you pay for this!”

  The officer shoved him none-too-gently into the neighboring cell.

  Ash caught himself on the bars and spun around, an enraged dog ready to lunge at its captors. Wells bounded forward and swept the door shut. He slipped the key in and locked the cell with practiced speed.

  Ash stopped and glared, having at least enough sense to realize that attacking the bars served no purpose. He glared daggers at the officers until the door swung shut behind them. When he looked at her, she turned a shoulder to him, refusing to let those lovely eyes that brought a flush to her cheeks suck her in. Too many people had taken advantage of her lately. No sense opening the door for more of the same.

  “At least you smell better now.”

  She said nothing.

  “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”

  She sat on the camp bed and pulled her legs in to her chest, remembering the feel of soft fur warm under her fingertips. “Unfortunately, no.”

  He stared at her and she avoided his eyes, focusing instead on the initials J.D. carved into the wall of her cell.

  “That’s a barmy thing to say.”

  She shrugged. “Where’d they take you?”

  “I tried to run,” he muttered, averting his gaze.

  Amateur. She eyed the bars at the front of the cell. “Do you know what time it is?”

  “Late.” At her exasperated look, he dug a watch out of his trouser pocket. “’Bout one thirty-seven. Why?”

  Wells, in his rambling, mentioned that his shift ended at two o’clock. That meant there might be an opportunity to slip
out around that time. She didn’t know where the other officer went, but Wells must have been in the front office judging from how fast Rueben returned to the coach with him when they first arrived. If they were shorthanded, those two might be the only ones around. If she tried to escape and failed, they would know she could slip out and she wouldn’t get another chance. If she succeeded, she could get Ash out, for a price, then beat feet out of the city and lay low for a while. A few hideouts out around Whitechapel would take her in. If she could find Macak, she would take him with her.

  “My name’s Ash.”

  “I know.” She stood up and walked to the front of her cell.

  “You’re a little short on manners, aren’t you?” He chuckled. “Actually, you’re a little short all around.”

  She gave him a sharp glance and found her gaze drawn to green eyes sparkling with amusement at his own humor. There was also fear in them, but he did a decent job of keeping it in check. He wasn’t street smart. That much was apparent in his bearing. He stood proud and rigid. There was none of the telling looseness in his posture born of experience wriggling through crowds in search of a pocket to pick and crouching in dark corners to evade Literati patrols.

  Wrenching her gaze away, she turned sideways to the bars, putting her back to him, and stepped a leg through. She heard him walk to the near corner of his cell. He was silent while she pushed her way through again. It was easier the second time, perhaps because she didn’t fear becoming stuck now that she had done it once. As soon as she was through, a hand closed on her arm. His grip was stronger than she would have expected and his skin rough, the calloused hand of someone who knew something of hard work.

  She twisted, yanking free, and glared at him. Why did everyone think they had a right to touch her?

  His eyes met hers, shining with fierce determination. “Take me with you.”

  If he believed she would leave him, he might be more amenable to her terms. She shook her head.

  His jaw tightened. “I’ll shout and they’ll catch you.”

  She tensed. She couldn’t stop him from yelling for the guards and once he did, she didn’t stand much chance of getting away. The noise might provide a distraction, but it would also put the officer on alert. Chances of getting through the second door were better with stealth.