Jimmy watched the man depart in the same direction from which he’d come. He lifted his hand to his chin and scratched. If Katrina ever got a look at such a fellow, he’d lose her for sure. At once he froze. His free hand went to his empty wrist.
“Well, bugger me. The bloke lifted me dance card!”
“Jimmy!” Katrina called out as she hurried across the street. She’d seen Mister Nosey pass by and waited a good two minutes before venturing forth from her hiding place.
He looked up. “Where’ve you been? And who the hell is that?” He indicated belatedly to Susanna.
Katrina heard the intake of breath from behind her. She stepped up to Jimmy and spoke before he could issue any more expletives. “This is Lady Kendrick. She’s a new friend of mine.” Susanna caught up to and stood next to Katrina. “Lady Kendrick, this is Mr Lock.”
Susanna made to take a step forward. “How do you—”
“For chrissake, Katrina! A lady?”
“That will be enough, Mr Lock. Lady Kendrick needed some assistance. It seems her reticule has gone missing. I was wondering if perchance you picked it up by mistake.”
Jimmy looked as if he was going to throttle her. Instead he threw his hands in the air. “Unbelievable. No, I don’t have the bloody thing.”
Susanna groaned from next to Katrina.
“Well, did you see anyone else there tonight? Perhaps someone with whom we are acquainted?” She tilted her head towards Jimmy to make him understand her meaning.
“No,” he spouted with more force than necessary. “It was only you and I. Which is how it should be right now. Get rid of her ladyship and let’s be off.”
Brave little Susanna spoke up then. “Oh, please, Miss Katrina. Please don’t send me home without my reticule! Mr Lock,” she turned to him. “I will make sure you receive a fine reward if you’ll help me locate it.”
Jimmy sighed and dragged his hands down his face. “All right, all right. Far be it from me to turn down free money. A friend of mine and Miss Katrina’s did show his face in the crowd, however brief.” He shook his head as if he still couldn’t believe it. “Brenner. Heh, it seemed he’d got there even before we did. Checkin’ up on us, I’d imagine.” Jimmy said mostly to himself.
Susanna’s eyes widened. “Oh, thank heavens. Perhaps we can—”
“There’s no way in hell you’re takin’ this one to meet Brenner,” Jimmy commanded.
Katrina sighed and closed her eyes. There had to be an alternative to taking a member of the elite to the Den. She paced a few steps in the opposite direction. Other than chance of risking exposure, the solution to this mess had to be elementary. If she were to simplify the situation, all she had to do was go to Mr Brenner and merely ask if he had the reticule—but how to do it without Susanna trailing along? She turned to look at her unlikely companions and returned to the spot she’d vacated a moment or two before.
Katrina smiled. “Jimmy?”
“Whatever it is you wish to ask me, the answer is no. I’ve been served that sweet tone before from women and it’s always ended badly.”
“Oh, come now. I was only thinking—” she took a tremulous breath and forged ahead. “If you could stay here and watch over Lady Kendrick—”
“Just what do ya think I am, a nanny?”
“Well, I can’t think of a better way, can you?”
“Yes, we drop the subject and go home.”
Katrina took another step towards him. “Please, Jimmy, do it…for me?” She looked directly into his eyes and watched as his cold façade melted away.
“May the saints preserve me,” he murmured.
“You have my deepest gratitude.” Katrina rose up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek.
“Well… I hope you don’t expect me to entertain the wee kitten.”
Susanna’s intake of breath didn’t go unnoticed. “Jimmy, be nice.” She turned to Susanna. “Lady Kendrick, perhaps it would be best if you waited back across the street. You could have a seat in that garden again. I’m sure you will feel more comfortable there than standing on this street corner.”
She nodded and Katrina took her by the arm. They crossed the lane and Katrina whispered, “You’ll have to excuse Jimmy. He really is a good chap once you get to know him.”
“You must know him quite well,” Susanna said without looking at Katrina.
“Not as well as one would think,” she mumbled back. There just wasn’t time to explain her association with the infamous Jimmy Lock.
Moments later, Katrina hurried by on her way to the Den. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“You owe me a favour, Katrina,” he said loud enough for her to hear. And if he had anything to say about it, it would be a favour of an intimate nature.
He grinned to himself. He reached up and touched his cheek where she’d kissed him. It was as if he could feel her soft, warm lips still pressed to his skin. Katrina could talk him into just about anything—even playing governess to a member of the ton.
Jimmy glanced at the house behind which Lady Kendrick now waited for Katrina’s return and wished he’d not discarded that cigar he’d been given earlier. He scanned the street in front of him in hopes of retrieving the unused portion when a familiar voice caught his attention.
“Drop something, Mr Lock?”
It was Brenner and two of his burly bodyguards, Artie and Oliver. Jimmy wondered if they’d crossed Katrina’s path. “No. Just takin’ the air.”
“Where is Miss Katrina, then? Did you leave her at the party?”
Relief broke the keen hold anticipation had on Jimmy. Obviously, Brenner hadn’t come across Katrina. “Mmm, she was onto something big,” he shrugged, “so I broke off early.”
“I’m glad I found you alone. I’d like to finish our discussion.”
Shite, so this was the reason Brenner peeked in on us earlier in the evening. “Which discussion is that?” Jimmy knew perfectly well—in fact, he’d expected Brenner to not let the subject lie for long.
“You. Wishing to leave the Den.”
“Funny, but I was under the impression this conversation was closed.”
“Far from it.” Brenner tilted his head towards Jimmy.
At once Brenner’s thugs took hold of each of Jimmy’s arms, making it impossible to get at the knife inside his coat sleeve. He knew it would be futile to struggle so he remained still, but ready to bolt if given the chance.
“I can’t let you leave us.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
Brenner thought for a moment. “I suppose it doesn’t matter which. Either way, you belong to me—to the East Side Den of Thieves.”
“As I told you before, I belong to no one.”
“That’s where you are wrong. All I have to do is turn you in.”
“And be incriminated yourself? I don’t think so. Your bluff has been called, Brenner.”
Brenner took in a deep breath through his nose. “Well, that’s that then. Oliver, Artie.”
A beefy fist buried itself deep into Jimmy’s gut, inciting a whoosh of air that rushed from his lungs. Another hit smashed into his nose right between his eyes. The pain nearly crippled him—the sound of crunching bones and feel of gushing liquid rolling down his throat and chin were enough to make him want to wretch. His legs gave out, but still Brenner’s boys held on. When they released his arms and began to batter his limbs with blunt objects it was all he could take. Jimmy sank to the ground. A knee connected with his left cheekbone and several more foot blows landed in various places on his torso. Shards of light smattered amidst the black oblivion that swirled beneath his eyelids. He accepted it with a grateful heart until his head was lifted by his hair and his battered body hoisted up. His eyes drifted open and he met Brenner’s gaze head on.
“I can’t have you working for anyone else, you see, so myself and everyone else will just have to accept your death as a necessity.”
Brenner drew back his arm. Just before Jimmy blacked out, he saw som
ething sharp flash in Brenner’s hand.
Proud of herself for finding the Den via an improvised new route, Katrina made sure that no one witnessed her as she made her way up to Mr Brenner’s room. His door remained wide open and a single lamp wick glowed low as if it hadn’t been doused properly. She raised her fist to knock upon the portal frame when she noticed the room was unoccupied. With one more glance down the corridor, she stepped inside and turned up the wick. The illumination allowed her to see clearly the few items upon his bed—she was sure they’d come from the Frosts’ ball. A single reticule sat in the centre of pile of trinkets.
Peeking inside, she espied a stack of papers. “Thank God,” she murmured and shoved the bag under her neckline, down into the fabric of her left sleeve. She shook her arm until the bundle fell comfortably to the back. After a quick inspection of each puff that encircled both upper arms, there seemed to be no visual difference between the right and the left. A creaking board sounded from the hall. Her blood froze in her veins. But after a few moments, when no other sounds permeated the silence, she expelled her breath, reached over and turned down the lamp. “Must have been the rafters settling.” Relieved, she deftly stepped towards the door, anxious to make her exit undetected.
No one lurked in the corridor—and for that she was grateful. The less trouble she got into from the hierarchy, the better for her health. She couldn’t imagine what would happen if someone caught her appropriating spoils she wasn’t entitled to.
Not two steps down the corridor, she heard hushed voices. Fear crippled her lungs once again. Slowly she backed away from the noise and headed for the back stairs.
Katrina sighed in relief. In just moments she’d made it back down to the streets and alleyways of London. Not long after, the corner on which Jimmy was supposed to be waiting came into view. But Jimmy was nowhere to be seen.
Chapter Eight
Katrina could have throttled Jimmy. Where in hell is he? She stormed across the street and towards the house behind which she’d told Susanna to wait. She whipped around the corner and slammed directly into Susanna.
She reached out to steady the girl. “Good heavens, Lady Ken—” Katrina’s tirade came to a skidding halt. Susanna was trembling. “What happened?” Katrina held tight to her shoulders and, regardless of the darkness, tried to look her new friend directly in the eyes to determine just what was going on. “What’s wrong?”
Susanna’s lips quivered open, then shut before any words passed between them.
“Lady Kendrick… Susanna? What is it?” Katrina gave her a shake.
At once, Susanna collapsed into her arms, gasping. “Oh, you poor dear. You poor, poor dear,” Susanna murmured in between sobs.
Given a million years, Katrina still wouldn’t have been able to guess what on earth Susanna was going on about.
Katrina drew in a breath to enquire when Lady Kendrick raised her gaze to Katrina’s. “I’m not quite sure how to tell you this, but your friend…”
“Yes?”
“Mr Lock…”
“Yes, go on.”
“Has been…” Susanna heaved in a ragged lungful of air. “Has been murdered.”
“Murdered?”
Susanna’s head bobbed up and down at a frantic pace. “Yes.”
“What do you mean murdered?”
“Murdered. Killed. Good heavens, there is only one perfectly clear definition of the word.”
“Yes, of course—but… But how?”
“Three men. Two of them beat him and the last one stabbed him. Then they dragged his body off in that direction.” She pointed towards the street where not far beyond lay the Thames.
Katrina’s world tilted. Susanna thrust out her arm and caught her just before she toppled over. Katrina accepted Susanna’s comforting embrace as her thoughts wandered to Jimmy. Tears filled her eyes and her heart ached as if a hole had been carved in her soul. Never once had she fancied herself in love with him, but the twinge of guilt she felt for not reciprocating his feelings nagged at her. He was a dear boy who didn’t deserve such an end no matter his circumstances.
“Poor Miss Katrina,” Susanna cooed and patted her back. She pulled away to look into Katrina’s eyes. “Now, in my estimation, it isn’t wise to tarry here any longer… Who knows if those brutes will be back?”
“Did they see you?”
“No, but we really should depart as criminals often return to the scene of a crime.”
Katrina managed a nod and not moments later, allowed Susanna to lead her in the opposite direction of the Thames.
The reality of Jimmy’s death refused to take root in Katrina’s mind. She remembered snippets of conversation and all the stolen moments she and Jimmy had spent together, aside from when she had learned to steal of course, pondering, philosophising… He had often made her laugh at a time that should have been the most painful of her life. He’d comforted her and soothed her—she considered him her best friend, regardless of his flirting.
And now he was gone. The only reliable man she’d known in her life. It just wasn’t fair.
The night air had turned cold, damper than usual at this time of year, which intensified the chill on her cheeks owing to the trail of tears from her grief. She wiped her face with the backs of her hands and found that she and Susanna had arrived at the portico of a town house. She’d cried the entire way there, and hadn’t realised it. Mourning had a way of blurring the passage of time unlike anything else. The amber-coloured glass shade mellowed the otherwise glaring gas flame that hung from the ceiling, casting a warm glow about the porch.
Lady Kendrick turned to her. “Again, I’m terribly sorry about your friend. Why, tonight’s horrible episode didn’t even result in finding my reticule.” Katrina detected in her voice a mix of disappointment and sorrow.
“Oh, yes. Forgive me.” Katrina sniffed. “I found it. I just didn’t have the opportunity to present it.” She shoved her hand inside her neckline and from inside her sleeve she pulled out Susanna’s reticule.
First Susanna clutched the bag to her chest, then felt for the contents. “I could hardly believe when it first disappeared. Now I can hardly believe it’s back!” She opened the drawstrings and peeked inside. “It’s there. It’s all there.” She sighed. “Thank you.”
Katrina could tell the young girl reined in her joy for the sake of Katrina’s unhappiness. It was very refined of her to do so. She took a step towards Susanna to voice her appreciation when the words seized in her throat.
“What the hell is going on here?” a man growled and stepped from the shadows.
Even without a visual, Katrina knew exactly who it was. Shite. The nosey bloke must have been following us! He either didn’t have a life of his own—which she found near impossible to believe owing to his masculine, handsome features—or he was the busiest body in all of London.
“Good heavens, Maxwell, you scared the breath out of me—and I’ve had quite enough of that tonight, thank you very much.”
Katrina flinched. This man is Susanna’s brother? Oh, God.
“You have a damn fine lot of explaining to do, young lady.” He took Susanna by the arm.
Before Katrina could consider bolting, her upper arm was seized as well. “Miss Katrina.” Maxwell looked her up and down, likely accessing if she held the wherewithal to escape.
Bollocks, he knows my name.
“And yes, I know your name.”
“But how—?” The mindless query slipped unheeded from between her lips.
“Oh, no. Not until I get the story—the true story of why you two have been traipsing around London all night long.”
Susanna huffed out an irritated sigh. “I must protest, Maxwell. Ladies, myself included, do not traipse.”
“The hell you don’t.”
“Your foul language isn’t helping matters, either. I’ve never been able to stomach your bursts of temper.”
“Don’t even try to change the subject, Stinker. Now out with it.”
Stinker? Ah, yes. The overbearing, older brother. Katrina had heard of such, and this man’s portrait could have resided in every shop window in London accompanied by the title.
“Unhand me first. Your violent reaction isn’t seemly for a gentleman.”
He released Susanna, but not Katrina, then led them both through the front door and through the first portal they came to. The room was dark, save for the blade of light coming through the curtains across the expansive floor. It smelt faintly of pipe tobacco, leather furniture and old books. His hand was like an iron band about her arm, but it was the heat radiating from his body that drove her to distraction.
“Light a lamp,” he ordered his sister.
Moments later, Susanna struck a match. “I think the wick needs to be changed, it’s nearly done for.”
“No time, just use what’s left.”
“Very well, and stop barking at me like a wolfhound.”
Katrina ignored their sibling banter. My word but he smells nice. She drew her bottom lip between her teeth to nibble upon it…and to have an excuse to breathe through her nose. His light, spicy cologne reminded her of something—something dangerous, but she couldn’t place the incident in her mind.
Once the wick fibres were lit, he demanded of Susanna, “Now. Tell.”
“Well, it all started last week—”
“The abridged version, if you please. Start with tonight right after you left to speak with your husband about staying behind at the Frosts’ ball.”
“Oh. Well, Charles gave me his permission and when I went to find you, you were absent. Where had you gone, Maxwell? I should be good and angry at you for—”
“Stick to the subject at hand, Susanna,” he said in a bored voice.
Regardless of their ongoing repartee, not once did Maxwell’s grip loosen around Katrina’s arm. He was apparently a man who liked being in control. She barely quashed the wayward visual that floated through her mind of other ways he enjoyed his control, but not before it threatened to topple her. Katrina turned her focus on Susanna and realised it would take a lot more than a change of subject to ignore Maxwell.
Cat and Mouse Page 6