The Ace of Clubs

by Patricia Loofbourrow

  “My grandfather hasn’t hired enforcers as yet. Although nothing he did would surprise me.”

  “But Dame Anastasia’s dead!”

  “His point exactly.” He turned the page.

  “Wait,” I said. “He thinks I killed her?”

  “Surely not. But —” He shook out the newspaper, “he did valid work, which you refuse to pay for.”

  I considered this. “We had an agreement.”

  Thrace Pike shrugged. “Back to the point, please, madam. I have little time. My grandfather believes I’m attending my daughter, who I told him was unwell.” He turned the page. “The documents. Your husband pays a tremendous amount to Diamond Manor every month in the name of Gardena Diamond.”

  This news astonished me. “Are you certain?”

  “I am.” He sounded distressed. “I could scarce believe it.”

  “What ... why would my husband do such a thing?”

  “I can think of several reasons.”

  “Such as?”

  “The most likely is blackmail.”

  Gardena did urge Tony to tell me something vital. But why would Julius Diamond — or whoever was blackmailing Tony — want money paid to Gardena? “None of this makes sense.”

  “Perhaps Miss Diamond provides some service we know nothing about,” Mr. Pike said.

  “I can’t think of what.” And why keep it secret?

  He crossed one leg over the other. “There’s a third option, which may be what Mr. Bower referred to.”

  Something in Mr. Pike’s voice made me afraid. “What?”

  “I hesitate to mention this, madam, as it’s too horrible to imagine that a man would treat you so.”

  “I shall inform you at once if I become too distressed.”

  “Your husband could have a secret family.”

  It took everything within me not to laugh aloud. Tony had been the most devoted husband possible. And he seemed so eager for a child. Why would he want children so badly if he already had some? “What if it were true?”

  “Once a man signs betrothal papers, the marriage can only be broken if both families agree before the wedding takes place. Once married, no other alliance may be entered into unless divorce is finalized.” He turned the page. “Now, yes, men do break their vows, and there might even be children. But for a man to take from his estate to provide for them?” I saw Mr. Pike shake his head from the corner of my eye. “He would be subject to criminal action on behalf of his heirs present and future.”

  “So what happens to the woman in this circumstance?”

  “She certainly would have cause to file for divorce, but —”

  “No, the other one.”

  “Well,” Mr. Pike said, surprised, “she certainly wouldn’t be accepted in society any longer. If married, her husband would immediately divorce her.”

  “Oh?”

  “Some men might reconcile with a repentant woman, but her reputation would be permanently tarnished. They would probably need to leave the city to have any hope of living without constant scandal. An unmarried woman’s father, though ....”

  I knew he suspected Gardena, which infuriated me.

  “To preserve his reputation and that of his heirs, her father must denounce her and turn her out at once.”

  “But where would she go?”

  He shrugged. “She could go the Pot and continue her whoredom there, I suppose. It’s a pity for the child, but —”

  “That’s quite enough.” Why should a woman suffer so for falling in love? “I wish to hear no further.”

  Mr. Pike didn’t speak for a few moments. “Very well, madam. Will there be anything else?”

  Why was this happening now? “Are you acquainted with a man named Frank Pagliacci?”

  “No, madam. Should I be?”

  “No. That’ll be all for now. Thank you. Please speak of this to no one. I’ll contact you should I need further assistance.” I rose without looking at him and continued on, my guards following.

  The idea of Tony keeping a secret family was utter nonsense.

  Yet none of the other reasons made sense either. Why would Gardena blackmail Tony? Why would she insist on him telling me the truth if she was?

  But then I stopped, facing the shore. What if it were Julius or that insufferable Cesare who blackmailed Tony, using Gardena to hide the money’s final destination?

  I began walking back to Tony’s cabana. This was more plausible. But was Tony capable of anything so terrible that he would submit to blackmail to hide it?

  When I approached the cabana, Tony emerged fully dressed.

  “How was your swim?”

  “The water’s just right.” Tony seemed more relaxed than I’d seen him in a while. “And your stroll?”

  “Lovely.”

  Tony offered his arm. We began climbing the rocky slope back to our carriage.

  I said, “I’d like to luncheon with Gardena sometime.”

  He hesitated several seconds. “Very well.”

  “I’ll bring her to Spadros quadrant, if it helps.”

  Tony chuckled. “It would.”

  “I’m sorry I’ve caused such turmoil. I feel I’ve lost your trust, and that distresses me.”

  “Ah, now.” He stopped, took hold of my hands. “You just did what you felt necessary.” He reached up, tucked a loose strand behind my ear. “You’ve lost none of my regard.”

  Sawbuck walked past. “I don’t know about you two lovebirds, but I’d like to get somewhere cooler.” He gestured to the carriage. “What do you say?”

  * * *

  On the return trip, I pondered Mr. Pike’s findings. The most logical conclusion was blackmail. First Gardena, now Tony. Could this be part of the Red Dog Gang’s plot?

  Tony said Joe told him that the Diamonds started the Red Dog Gang. Morton said someone suborned the original Red Dogs to frame them for murder and kidnapping. All the evidence about the blackmail attempt against Gardena pointed to it being a way to keep me from reaching Anastasia in time to prevent her death.

  But this felt much more dangerous than that. Tony was terrified of even discussing the subject.

  I’d forgotten to ask Mr. Pike how long this had been going on. Perhaps someone pressured Gardena into being involved, using her grandfather’s death or some other misdeed as leverage. Perhaps she wanted me told so as to break the blackmail. Then Tony might win free. But why would Tony not want me told?

  When we reached the Manor, I invited Gardena to luncheon a few days hence. We couldn’t visit the Spadros Women’s Club: since Roy’s intrusion, most ladies of high stature refused to attend without armed guards, which the Club didn’t allow.

  I picked a highly-rated restaurant in Spadros, The Culbertson, where both men and women were welcome, then had Pearson set up a reservation. Gardena could bring her brothers or other guards as escort, and I could speak to her in public.

  * * *

  Over the next few days, I spent most of my time considering the matter. Gardena never would be around Tony for more than a few moments, and then only when Jonathan was present. Tony and Gardena always acted cross with each other. Sometimes Tony seemed afraid of her. And Cesare hated Tony as much as his father Julius did.

  A lot of things went on in the past between these two Families: murders and betrayals on both sides. But Tony was in the Family — anything, no matter how horrible, might be covered up. If one went on rumor, Jack Diamond was a murderer many times over. Roy Spadros routinely tortured people to death. Yet they both walked free, even prospered. What could Tony possibly have done which he would be so afraid of revealing?

  * * *

  I went to the restaurant, and there Gardena was. Maids escorted us to a table and poured tea.

  The room was full. Two of Gardena’s brothers sat behind her at another table, sipping tea as they waited to order. A buzz of conversation filled the room, which would drown out anything I might have to say.

  Gardena said, “To what do I owe this hon
or?”

  “I needed to speak with you.”

  Her demeanor seemed perfectly innocent. “Whatever about?”

  “I just received some disturbing news. I’d hoped you might assist me.”

  She smiled warmly. “However I can help, Jacqui. You have only to ask.”

  I leaned forward. “Why do you receive monthly stipends from Spadros Manor?”

  Gardena stared at me in horror. “How did you learn of this?”

  “What has my husband done?”

  “You promised you wouldn’t ask!”

  “That was when I thought it a simple disagreement. But ... blackmail? Dena, if I’m mistaken please tell me.”

  Gardena took a deep breath, let it out. “Do you remember the boy you met on Market Center with my cousin Octavia?”

  I nodded. Yet I felt perplexed, not making any connection between two children and our topic. The boy, perhaps four, looked like Jon; the girl — seventeen or so — had light skin and long blonde curls.

  “The boy’s name is Roland. He’s my son.”

  I felt surprised. “You have a son? He’s a lovely child. But why did you never speak of him? And why pretend he belonged to your brother?” And what did this have to do with payments?

  She shook her head. “I begged Anthony, but he wouldn’t tell you.” She paused for a long time. “His name is Roland Spadros.”

  The Decision

  Roland ... Spadros? “I don’t understand.”

  Then I stared at Gardena, aghast.

  Roy Spadros had violated Amelia, forced her to bear little Pip, terrorized and hounded her. Her entire family had gone through anguish and turmoil for a decade because of it. “Did Roy Spadros hurt you? Is that what’s going on?”

  Gardena stared at me, mouth open, her demeanor moving from shock to fear, then to a horrified realization. She pressed her hands to her mouth for several seconds, and her eyes reddened.

  My heart pounded. I hoped she would trust me. And I decided if Roy had hurt Gardena, I would go to Roy’s house and kill him. I would concoct a pretext, get past his guards and cut his throat. I didn’t care who saw, or what happened afterward.

  I’d wanted to kill him for ten years, and this was as good a time as any. Such a monster didn’t deserve to live.

  “No, Jacqui,” Gardena said, “I’ve never been allowed near Roy Spadros without many guards, and ... and now I understand why.” She looked away. “I understand many things now.”

  Gardena sat motionless as conversation from the other tables swirled round us. “I think I would take my life rather than bear a child of his.” She took a deep breath, hesitating, not meeting my eye. Then she faced me. “Roland is Anthony’s son.”

  I feared that this might be the case, but never let myself believe it. “Why?” Why hide it? Why lie?

  Gardena rounded on me, but she spoke in a whisper. “Why? Why? Because I wanted a child! No man was ever good enough for my father. I feared ending up alone, unwanted, unloved, never allowed to have children of my own.”

  But Tony loves you. “Tell me how this happened.”

  “I was almost 20! I’d been forced to turn down ten suitors in one year, men I would’ve been happy to wed. I saw a copy of the Golden Bridges — they called me ‘the Diamond spinster’—”

  I felt a surge of anger. Those men tossed sticks of dynamite as if they were toys.

  “— and I felt humiliated, Jacqui. I felt desperate. I didn’t know what else to do.

  “I knew Anthony wanted me. At the Grand Ball, I took him to a closet, and he lay with me ...”

  Five years ago, I thought. Tony would have been 17. Was I at that Grand Ball? I couldn’t remember.

  “But my father caught us, and only my father’s fear of Roy Spadros kept him from killing Anthony then and there.”

  She put him in such danger! “How could you have toyed with my husband? And why did you not marry him?”

  “We were both afraid,” Gardena said. “I’m fond of Anthony. More than fond. I was prepared to marry him. That’s what I thought would happen. How could my father do otherwise? He would be forced to.” She gave a small smile. “That’s how Cesare was born, to hear the servants tell it. My grandfather insisted they marry when my mother was found with child.”

  Then she sobered. “But Anthony feared his father’s wrath. I shouldn’t have blamed him. He was so young. Your betrothal was already announced and he felt unable to break it. He feared his father would kill me and take our son if he learned of him.”

  This explained much. “Now I see the Clubb Family’s plan.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I sighed. This would hurt. “Your son is an heir to Spadros and Diamond. All Lance needs to do is make Roland love him, and the Clubbs have three quadrants. The Harts could do nothing.”

  I recalled the news article in the Golden Bridges a few months ago about the meeting between Mrs. Regina Clubb and Mrs. Judith Hart at the Clubb Women’s Center. This was why Mrs. Judith Hart was so upset. Mrs. Clubb must have brought her there to brag of their victory.

  Hurt crossed Gardena’s eyes. “Jacqui, Lance isn’t like that. Could it be possible that he courts me because he loves me?”

  “Does he know about Roland?”

  “Well, yes, but —”

  “Lance may be the Blessed Floorman Himself, Dena, but his parents most certainly are not. They’re behind this.”

  Gardena stared at her table settings in dismay.

  The waiter approached. “Would you ladies like to order something to drink?”

  The enormity of it all fell upon me like a rock. Tony had a son I knew nothing about. When had he planned to tell me? Would I have gone to my grave not knowing?

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “I’m sorry, but I must go.”

  “Jacqui,” Gardena said, “please, wait ...”

  I glanced at her brothers; they glanced back at me. I could just imagine the exchange: pay up or something might happen to your son. And she went along with it. “No, Gardena, I’ve heard all I wish to.” I gestured at the table. “You may put whatever you like on our tab.” I felt bitter. “That seems to be what you’re used to.”

  The waiter turned away, embarrassed.

  Gardena stared at me, stricken. I felt ashamed for speaking to her in this way, angry at her, angry at everyone. I left her standing there in the restaurant as everyone watched me go.

  * * *

  At the carriage, Honor faced away, talking to the driver, and jumped when he realized I stood behind him. “Oh! I’m sorry, mum. Did Miss Diamond cancel?”

  “That’s none of your concern,” I snapped, immediately regretting it at the shock and hurt on Honor’s face. “Forgive me, it’s been a trying day.”

  Honor took on a mask rather like Tony’s, staring straight ahead. “Yes, mum.” After helping me inside, he closed the door.

  The carriage started off. Filled with guilt, shame, anguish, I drew the curtains around me and wept.

  Tony lied about everything. He didn’t marry me because he loved me so much; he was forced to marry me by his father. He clearly would rather have married Gardena.

  He lied as to why he wanted a child so badly — was it pride? Was it another way to hide that he already had an heir, that he didn’t even need me for that?

  I’d been trapped at Spadros Manor all these years for nothing!

  I wiped my face with my handkerchief. Tony loved me. He could never be that false.

  Perhaps Gardena lied to cover up some other misdeed. After all, she did kill her own grandfather. Perhaps Roland wasn’t Tony’s son, yet he was being tricked into believing the boy was.

  Honor knocked before opening the door, and he led me to the porch in silence. Pearson opened the door. “Good day, mum.”

  “When is my husband expected home?”

  “In an hour, mum.”

  After Amelia got me changed into my afternoon dress, I said, “I wish our rooms to be undisturbed until my husband arrives. When
he returns, please ask him to come directly to my room.”

  Amelia gave a sly smile, then she sobered. “Yes, mum.”

  Once she left, I went to my sideboard, filled a waterglass with bourbon, and took a long drink. I gazed at the photo of Acevedo Spadros II, who Roland — and Tony — looked so much like.

  Somewhere in Tony’s belongings would lie clues to the truth.

  I waited until Amelia’s footsteps were down the stairs, then went into Tony’s bedroom. I locked the door to the hall so no one might enter his room taking me unawares. Then I began to search. Closets, pockets, boxes of memorabilia ... a large locked drawer next to his bed. Retrieving my picks, I went to work.

  Before me lay a small lifetime’s worth of information about a boy’s small life: portraits, framed and stacked. Doctor’s notes. Pictures drawn “to my Daddy.” A curl of black hair in tissue.

  I wanted to weep all over again.

  At the bottom of the pile, I found a birth certificate for Roland Anthony Spadros. A square portion of the right upper corner was cut away. I’d never seen a birth certificate before, so the cut-away portion puzzled me.

  I moved Tony’s tea-table near the drawer. Then I placed the photos upon it, the larger in back, the smaller in front. Underneath everything sat a locket of a young Gardena holding baby Roland in her arms. This I placed in the center, my heart heavy.

  I heard the door to my rooms open. “Jacqui?”

  I sat on his bed. “I’m in here.”

  Tony came in slowly, face wary, flinching at the open drawer and the table full of portraits.

  I turned the table so it faced him and spoke with a calm I didn’t feel. “Who is this boy?”

  Tony’s face went white. “How dare you go through my things like this!”

  “Who is this child?”

  “That’s none of your concern!”

  “Why are you sending money to Gardena Diamond?”

  “What I do with my money is no concern of yours.”

  “My lawyer tells me it is entirely my concern.”

  “Y—your lawyer?” Tony looked as if he might faint.