The Ace of Clubs

by Patricia Loofbourrow

  Pearson came to us. “Master Joseph Kerr and Miss Josephine Kerr to call, sir.”

  Tony holstered his gun. “Seat them in the parlor.” He took my face in his hands and kissed me. “I love you so much.”

  I batted his hands away, laughing. “You silly man — you smell of gun! Let’s go inside.”

  As we walked back, large drops fell. “They got here just in time,” Tony said. “A few minutes later and we’d all be drenched.”

  Hand in hand, we ran back to the veranda.

  Joe and Josie sat in the parlor on two armchairs facing the sofa, rising when we entered, Joe needing his cane to do so. The sky was dark, and rain battered the window.

  Jane came bustling in. “I’ll light the lamps for you, mum.”

  Josie gasped. “Your candles are lovely. Are they new?”

  Jane looked put out.

  I smiled. “Go ahead and light the candles instead, Jane, if you would.” I sat by one of the large glossy houseplants in its marble urn at the end of the sofa. Tony sat beside me. “To what do we owe this honor?”

  “Why, you’ve come to our home,” Josie said. “It’s only right that we visit in return.”

  “Thank you for your card of condolence,” Joe said to Tony. “We didn’t know our uncle well, but ...”

  Tony smiled. “I’m grateful that you’ve come.” He rested his hand on mine. “She has so few callers.” His smile faded. “I’ll remember who’s been kind to my wife and who’s shunned her when I’m in charge of this Family.”

  The scent of lavender wafted in the air, mixed with gun oil. Jane lit the first candle.

  “Is your father well?” Joe said.

  Tony shrugged, taking his hand off mine. “As wicked as ever. But enough about us. I’m glad you’re here. I spoke with the Chief of Police about your friend’s murder.”

  Lavender ... candle wax ... gun oil ...

  Lavender sprigs lined the aisle, a bunch at each pew as I walked towards him, and I clutched a bundle in my hands to stop their shaking.

  I still felt the cold imprint of Roy’s gun as I walked, not meeting anyone’s eyes.

  Jane lit the second candle. My lips tingled, and I licked them. Swallowed. I didn’t feel well at all.

  “He understands that finding her killer is of high priority.”

  Tony smiled and took my hand ... then we climbed the steps. “We are gathered today to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony.”

  The smell of candle-wax mixed with lavender ...

  “But I’m going to have my men on this as well. And the matter with your uncle. This affects my wife,” Tony placed his hand on mine, “which makes it a Family matter. You can rest assured, we’ll learn who did this.”

  The room was filled with bunches of lavender as Tony undressed me in the candlelight. I couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t bear to feel his touch.

  Jane started towards the door.

  “We’re truly grateful for you help, sir,” Joe said.

  The lavender ... the candles ... Tony touching me ... the smell of the gun ...

  My stomach lurched. I managed not to spoil my dress or the sofa — except the arm — but the potted plant was worse for wear.

  Everyone cried out, except Josie, who told Jane to bring a wet cloth. I lay draped across the sofa’s arm panting, bathed in sweat.

  Tony knelt beside me, smoothing my hair. “My poor dear.”

  Pearson came in. “I’ll call the doctor.”

  “That would be wonderful, thank you.” Tony sounded happy, which infuriated me. “Have the men bring the plant outside. The rain should wash it clean.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Josie said, “We should go.” She placed her hand on my hair. “I hope you didn’t catch ill with this weather.”

  I squeezed her hand. “Don’t fret. Our doctor is excellent.”

  Joe stood by my feet, gazing at me calmly. “We’ll return another time, when you’re well.” He mouthed, “I love you.”

  Tony, kneeling beside me, focused on my face, never saw it.

  I still felt faint. “Have a safe trip.”

  Tony carried me upstairs and laid me in bed.

  * * *

  Dr. Salmon sat beside my bed as he examined me. He chuckled at the moonstone on its chain around my neck.

  “What’s funny?”

  “Your husband gave you that.”

  “How did you know?”

  “I did an investigation into these ‘miracle gems’ when they first went on the market.” He fingered the stone, then laid it on my chest. “One of the moonstone’s claimed powers was to increase fertility.”

  This astonished me so much I laughed.

  Dr. Salmon gazed at me soberly. “My dear girl, I’ve never betrayed you. And I never will. I hope someday you can bring yourself to trust me.”

  So he suspected my morning tea. Could I trust him? Should I confess? But he had no proof, and who might be listening?

  Then he took my hand. “Tell me what happened.”

  So I told him how the smells made me so ill.

  The rain beat upon the windows, and I recalled that he attended my wedding. Did he guess as to why I fell ill? But he spoke kindly. “What can I do to help?”

  My eyes filled with tears. All I wanted right then was to go home and see my Ma. “Perhaps a day or two of rest?”

  He placed his hand on my forehead. Then he called Tony in.

  “How is she?” Tony seemed almost giddy.

  Dr. Salmon gave Tony a sad smile. “She’s never fully recovered, and has developed a case of nervous exhaustion with severe irritation of the stomach. She may eat whatever she finds soothing, but rest as much as possible for the next few days.”

  Tony stared at me in shock.

  After he left, Tony knelt by my bed, holding my hand. “All this time ... ill ... and you never said anything? How could this be? I should never have pressed and agitated you so.” He put his forehead on the bed beside me. “Oh, gods. I—”

  “Shh,” I said. “It’s not your fault.” I moved over in bed. “Join me.” Taking off his shoes and jacket, he did, and I held him to my breast, stroking his hair. “None of this has ever been your fault.”

  Tony fell asleep in my arms. I lay staring at the ceiling.

  If I left with Joe, it would destroy Tony. Even though he loved Gardena, he trusted and relied on me. I was everything to him. He never intended me harm — in fact, the opposite. He had never so much as raised a hand to me, ever. None of this was his fault.

  But could I spend my life pretending I loved Tony, when Joe had a way out?

  * * *

  Presently, Tony awoke, going off to tend to something or other. Yet I lingered, grateful for the chance to relax in privacy. All too soon, Amelia came to check on me. “A package, mum.”

  It was a new copy of the Golden Bridges. The top story:

  Third Body Found In Train Tunnel

  A third body was found in the train tunnels under Market Center this morning.

  Our Inside Reporter, speaking with a source on the island, confirms the body belonged to a man of seven and twenty who recently died of strangulation. This source also confirmed this man was an associate of the infamous Dame Anastasia Louis.

  The number of her associates missing numbers two dozen. Six and ten so far have been found dead throughout Bridges, all of strangulation.

  Sixteen dead? All of strangulation? “Good gods,” I said.

  Amelia said, “Has something happened, mum?”

  Were they targeted by an angry bankrupt? Or has the scoundrel many call the Bridges Strangler resumed his grisly work? All the deaths so far are recent, which suggests the villain keeps the men captive for an extended period before their murders.

  So far the Police have not seen fit to acknowledge this menace. We advise all young men — especially those associated with the deceased lady — to travel in groups until the madman is found.

  I handed her the paper.

 
“I’d never heard this,” Amelia said. “It’s preposterous. How could such go on without any warning about it?”

  “Perhaps the Families don’t want a tourist to bring this news to the Feds,” I said. “I believe the Feds would have jurisdiction over a multiple murderer, would they not?”

  “Ah,” said Amelia. “I wonder what the Families plan to do.”

  “That’s an excellent question.”

  * * *

  After a while, I got up, telling Amelia I’d be taking dinner in my room. Presently, Tony came in, Pearson and Honor following. They set up a small table and chairs, with various foods for me.

  “How kind of you,” I said.

  Pearson said nothing. Honor bowed. “My pleasure, mum.”

  Once they left, we began eating.

  “I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Tony said.

  A knock came at the door. “Come in,” Tony said.

  One of Tony’s men entered. “Sir, about the coat.”

  Tony gestured with his chin. “Go ahead, sit down.”

  The man gave me a glance, then pulled up a chair from my tea-table and sat across from us. “Thank you, sir. I talked with the manager there at the shop. He didn’t remember the coat at first, so we hunted down Master Rainbow —”

  “You’ve seen him?” I said. “How is he?”

  He glanced back and forth between us, then shrugged. “Seemed fine to me, mum. Anyways, the manager remembered the coat once he saw it. Said a red-haired gal picked it out.”

  Was this Zia? “Did he remember anything else about her?”

  The man frowned slightly. “Not that I recall.” He glanced at Tony, then at me. “Something you want me to ask?”

  I leaned forward. “Was she an outsider? Have an accent?”

  Tony said, “You know this woman.”

  I nodded. “An outsider. She had a heavy accent, and liked to move her hands when she talked.”

  “The manager said none of the sort, mum.” He let out a short laugh. “Seems like he would’ve: that one liked to gab.”

  How many women did this man Pagliacci have? “What did Master Rainbow say when he heard the description?”

  The man shrugged. “Don’t know, mum. Just gave me the coat. He weren’t there when we talked. Anyway, the manager said he’ll search out the invoice and send it by.”

  Tony nodded at him. “That’ll be all. You’ve done well.” Once he left, Tony said, “What is it?”

  “Frank Pagliacci collects women as the Harts do racehorses.”

  Tony laughed. “It would take all one’s energy to keep them from learning of each other. I wonder how he finds the time.”

  I snorted. Tony had put a remarkable amount of energy into keeping me from his connection with Roland and Gardena. “Let him collect his horses, then. Perhaps it’ll keep him busy enough to make a mistake.”

  The Trick

  Two days later, Joe and Josie came calling. When I saw Joe in my parlor, my heart thudded in my chest, but I made my voice light. “How wonderful to see you!” I sat next to him at the end of the sofa, while Josie sat beside me. “Would you like some tea?”

  “No, thank you,” Josie said. “How are you feeling?”

  “Better,” I said. I had the lavender removed, the room aired out, and I had no further problems. I reached up to touch the plant between me and Joe. “I fear my plant won’t recover, though.” The potted plant had wilted, in spite of all attempts to cleanse its soil.

  Joe grinned. “It’s just a plant.”

  Josie moved to the window. “What a lovely view you have.”

  Josie was such a dear, giving us time to speak privately. “Thank you.” I turned to Joe. “There’s something I wished to ask.” I hesitated, not wanting to remind him of how rude I was to him. “Do you remember when you called on us in January?”

  Joe blinked. “I suppose.”

  “Did your coachmen notice anything peculiar?”

  “Why, no,” Joe said. “Why do you ask?”

  His gaze flustered me. “I — we had reason to fear an intruder on the grounds that day. Might my husband speak with them?”

  Josie stood gazing out of the window. “We had to let them go. But I can send their names, if you wish to contact them.”

  “I hope nothing was taken,” Joe said.

  I smiled at him. “Nothing of the sort.” I gestured to Josie. “You’re welcome to look at the art book there.”

  “Thank you!” Josie sat in the window seat, eagerly paging through the book.

  “Josie loves art,” Joe said. He took my hand, whispering, “As much as I love you.”

  I clasped his hand in mine. “I desire nothing more than to leave with you. This place is a madhouse. I fear I might go mad as well, should I stay here.”

  Joe leaned forward. “Have you been harmed?”

  I shook my head. “I can’t speak of it, even if I had time.” Should I ask? I peered in his eyes. If anyone was trustworthy, it was Joe. “I can’t leave my Ma in Bridges —”

  A flash of surprise crossed Joe’s face.

  “She’s a knife to my throat as long as she’s here,” I said. “We must find a way to bring her with us.”

  He nodded, his gaze downcast. “I don’t know if I can get that many tickets. It’s a terrible large amount for one ticket, let alone four. Do you have any money at all?”

  I stared at my hands. It was a dreadful risk. If anything happened — Joe getting waylaid, Ma refusing to go, an unscrupulous ticket agent — I could lose everything I had saved these six years. But I couldn’t leave Ma here — any minute, someone might learn she was alive. “Wait here.”

  When I opened the door, Pearson said, “Mum, are you well?”

  “I need to fetch something,” I said. “I’ll return straight-away.”

  “But is it not something your maid could fetch for you?”

  I hurried up the stairs, locked the door behind me, then went to my hiding place in the back of my closets. Ten dollars (in ones) for Thrace Pike. Pennies for the taxi, change for Mrs. Bryce. The rest I placed in my pocket, returning the bag to its resting place.

  I placed the cash into a large sealed envelope. I wrapped a newspaper around the envelope and brought the newspaper to Joe. “Keep this safe. It’s all I have in the world.”

  He gazed at me soberly. “I’ll guard it with my life.”

  * * *

  Tony was out, so after the Kerr twins left, I took tea in my rooms, Amelia serving me.

  “Amelia, please fetch me onion.”

  She blinked in surprise, then said, “Yes, mum.”

  She returned with a saucer filled with minced raw onion. “For your sandwiches, mum?”

  “No, Amelia.” I smiled at her. “Did you never write secret letters as a child?”

  Amelia laughed. “I never did, mum. Not much time for that.”

  She’d worked ever since her father died when she was eight. Perhaps I could show her some fun. “Bring my stationery box.”

  I crushed the onion with the back of my teaspoon until the juices flowed. Then I wrote a note to my Ma in ink:

  A friend will visit.

  Amelia said, “What nonsense is this?”

  I grinned.

  I then took out a new pen, dipping it in the onion juice. Underneath, I wrote:

  When the owl flies

  The letters were faintly wet on the page.

  Amelia said, “What does this mean?”

  I chuckled. It was something we said in the Pot: when the owl flies, he doesn’t come back. “Well, that’s the second half of the secret. My reader will know what I mean, but someone else who finds this won’t.” I put down my pen. “That’s odd.”

  “What, mum?”

  The message Frank — or perhaps his leader — sent could’ve been read by anyone who thought to search for a secret message. The police, even. And it wasn’t coded. How could he have been so sure I’d be the one to read it? “Ever tricked someone, Amelia?”

 
; She smiled. “That reminds me of when I was a young girl. A man would follow me in my sweeping every day. Not walk past — when I moved down the road, he’d be watching me. Finally I went behind a tavern and found Peter with the horses. He was tall as he is now, so I thought he was a man grown. I told him about the man and he hid me. The next day when I went to work Peter came too, told the man he’d thrash him if he came round again.” She laughed. “The man never knew Peter was just a boy.”

  “And that’s how you met.”

  Her cheeks colored. “Yes, mum. That’s how we met.”

  “I feel certain someone is tricking me. But I don’t know who or why.” I sealed the note. “Have Pearson fetch the Memory Boy. I have a message for him.”

  “The third part of the secret?”

  I grinned at her. “Yes. Please inform me when he arrives.”

  After a few hours, Pearson notified me of the Memory Boy’s arrival. I went out to the front porch with my message.

  Werner Lead was maybe seven, with white-blond hair and a bright red jacket. The left chest and right shoulder sported a circular white patch with “MB” written upon it in red. His two brothers stood behind at the bottom of the steps.

  “Good day,” I said.

  “Hello, Mrs. Spadros,” Werner said.

  I handed him the note, and his eyes went wide. “I’ve never taken a note before.”

  I chuckled, leaning over. “Hand them that. Tell them it’s from me. But here’s the real message: My favorite flowers.”

  “My favorite flowers. Yes, mum. Where to?”

  “The message is for whoever is in charge at the Cathedral now.” I handed him a dollar.

  “Okay, mum. Thanks!”

  But he came back two hours later empty-handed. “I gave the note to them, and the men brought it inside. A woman came out and I told her the message. But when I asked if there was a message to return, she said no.”

  Was this woman Ma? “What did the woman look like?”

  “Oh, very old, mum, blue eyes, with straight white hair. She walked with a cane and men helped her.”

  I nodded. Not Ma. Ma and Molly were close to the same age. I pictured Ma’s brown skin, curly dark hair, dark eyes. Did this mean they kept her safe? “You did well. Thank you.”

  * * *

  Three days later, I went to Madame Biltcliffe’s shop for the final fitting of my Summer dress. I might never have a chance to wear the dress until next year, should the zeppelin inquest go on much longer, but Tony was true to his word.