by White, Gwynn
“It’s very large, but it doesn’t have any sparkle,” a lady in a fine dress complained to her husband as they walked away from the exhibit.
“That’s because it’s cursed,” her husband replied.
My brow furrowed. “The diamond is cursed?” I asked William.
He nodded. “The diamond is bloody. It was a gift to Victoria from her admirers in India.”
“So, you mean, we stole it,” I said under my breath.
He nodded.
I frowned. How typical. But somehow the notion made me feel a little better. If the diamond had been stolen in the first place, if it didn’t really belong to Her Majesty, then maybe that made all this better. Maybe.
As we moved forward, I eyed the layout of the space. The diamond had its own alcove off of the main thoroughfare. It was open on two sides. There was nothing else on display in order to accommodate the large crowd.
One of the guards yawned sleepily and pulled out his pocket watch.
The wooden podium—which I remembered from the schematic was really a safe—was strong enough to hold the weight of the heavy metal cage. As we drew close, I saw a steel box under the pillow on which the diamond sat. Under that was a levered panel to drop the box, diamond, and pillow inside, into the pedestal.
“Madame? Sir?” the exhibitioner called, motioning for us to come forward.
William and I came to stand in front of the diamond. It was large enough to take up the entire palm of my hand, but it was oddly cut. The shape was a strange sort of oval. As the passing lady had said, it didn’t shimmer at all.
“A bit lackluster,” William said.
The exhibitor barely batted an eyelash. It was apparent he’d heard the comment a hundred times already.
I leaned forward to look more closely. Then, pretending to swoon a little, I exclaimed loudly then tripped against the display. I reached out and grabbed the bars as if to steady myself. I threw some of my weight against the display. It didn’t move. The diamond never budged.
“Madame,” the exhibitor exclaimed, reaching out for me.
William, pretending to be distracted, waited a moment before he noticed my distress. “My dear,” he called, reaching out for me.
To my surprise, both guards—who had but a moment ago looked half-asleep—and the exhibitor arrived at once.
“Oh,” I exclaimed with a gasp. “Oh, gentlemen! Oh my! I’m so very sorry. I suddenly saw black spots before my eyes and swooned.”
The exhibitor breathed a sigh of relief. Nothing had moved. The diamond had not shuddered a bit.
“I’m so very sorry,” I said, batting my big blue eyes at them.
The guards regarded me closely, looked at one another, and with a nod, returned to their posts.
“Oh, I’m so very sorry,” I said, looking from the exhibitor to the guards. “How terribly embarrassing.”
“Are you all right, pet? What happened, love?” William asked, fanning my face.
The exhibitor smiled generously. “It’s a long line. And it’s quite hot in here, isn’t it? No damage was done. Perhaps your wife needs a bit to eat,” the man said to William.
As he spoke, I scanned around. Several gentlemen, all in similar black suits, had suddenly come very near the display. They exchanged glances with the guards then disappeared, presumably back into the crowd.
William smiled at the man. “Excellent idea, my friend.”
“There are many food tents outside. But everyone is raving about Alexis Soyer’s Symposium of All Nations at the Gore House just across the street. Hot meals. Food from all nations,” the exhibitor suggested. “I’ve heard it’s very good. Or you can get a ginger beer, a pickle, and a stale bun down that way,” the man added with a wink.
William laughed. “Thank you, sir,” he told the man then took my arm. “Come along, my dear.”
At that, we headed away from the display.
“Well?” William whispered once we were a safe distance away.
“The pedestal seemed to be welded to the ground. The bars are solid steel. Nothing shook. Nothing moved. It’s sturdy. It’s a safe, just as the schematic showed.”
“Guards are lax,” William commented.
“The ones we saw. There are guards mingling amongst the crowd. But they are all wearing the same black suits. There,” I said, motioning casually toward a display French jewels. “The man carrying the sketchbook. And there,” I said, tilting my chin toward another display of lamps.
“I see,” William said. “What now?”
“We need to see what’s done with the diamond at the close of day.”
“Then let’s have some lunch and return for a second look.”
“Pickles, bread, and ginger beer?” I asked with a grin.
“I don’t know. I’m not sure what Alice in the red dress would prefer, but my Alice was always ready to drink a ginger beer.”
Unable to stop myself, I grinned at him. “And what about you?”
“I want Alice in the red dress to have everything she deserves. Come, let’s try Soyer’s Symposium. We’ll eat Chinese food. I’ve heard they eat with sticks.”
“Chopsticks.”
“Chopsticks. Shall we try?”
“And ruin my fine red dress?”
We both laughed then headed outside, away from the vendor tents, and toward the Gore House.
The sun was shimmering brightly. It was a fine day. I held onto William, soaking in his warmth, remembering the curve of his arm.
“I missed you,” William said softly. “And you must admit, you missed me too.”
“Yes. I’ve missed you too.”
“Alice, won’t you consider—”
“What does the Queen of Hearts have over you? Why are you doing this?”
“There was a job. I…I botched it. I owe her.”
“Too easy an answer. Botched it how?”
“It’s compli—”
“Yes, it’s complicated, you’ve mentioned that. William, I’ve known you since you were ten years old. Nothing about you is this complicated, at least, not so complicated that you cannot tell me. Who knows you better than I do?”
William sighed. “No one. But Alice, I…I just can’t.”
“Until you tell me the truth, then we are at an impasse.”
“Alice, I’m trying. You don’t even know how hard I am trying here. I am doing everything—”
Just then, however, I felt a shadow fall in too close behind us. I pulled the White Queen out of the parasol handle and turned.
William broke off midsentence.
Behind me, I found Jack and Rabbit.
“Alice,” Jack said with a smile, lifting both hands in the air and stopping cold.
Rabbit, his mop of white hair glimmering in the sunshine, smiled up at me, a mischievous look on his face. It was then I noticed that he was eating a pickle inside a bun. Now, how had he managed that if they were for sale inside the exhibition? He was still wearing the oversized, expensive-looking, waistcoat.
“What is it?” William asked.
“You’re needed,” Jack told him.
“Now?”
“Yes.”
“But I was just going to take Alice to—“
“The crew of the Siren is here. There is some…trouble.”
William paused. I could see the crush of conflicted feelings wash over him as his expression changed. He needed to go. It was obvious. But I could see that he also realized the timing could not have been worse. “Alice, I—”
I wanted to understand. I really wanted to be sympathetic, but the moment had felt so good. I wanted to go on living it. In truth, I had missed him desperately. And I was very certain that I was about to get to the truth. But once more, Jabberwocky’s ghost was back to haunt us. I couldn’t stand it. “Just go,” I said coldly.
William dug into his pocket and pushed a coin purse at me. “Please get some lunch. Spend it all. Buy anything you want. I need to attend to this matter, but I’ll be back. Meet me a
t six o’clock? The exhibition closes at seven. I’ll meet you inside?”
I slipped my blade back into the parasol handle, popped the parasol open, and turned back toward the Great Exhibition building.
“Alice,” William called to me.
“Fine,” I replied.
As I walked off, I heard Jack’s voice.
“Sorry. It’s just the captain stabbed two people already. Rabbit, run off and tell them we’re coming.”
I frowned and kept going. Well, William was right. He had shown me what life would be like if I went back to him.
Disappointing.
11
Fool Me Once
Back inside the exhibit, I sat sipping a ginger beer and watching the diamond most of the afternoon. My analysis of the security was right. On first blush, the guards had seemed sparse and rather lax. That was, of course, a false assumption. There were many—many—security officers in black suits canvassing the place. I nibbled at my stale bread, the crumbly mess spoiling my fancy red dress, and tried to focus on the diamond. Instead, my mind drifted off to consider how everything had gone so terribly wrong. And whenever I posed that question to myself, a single night came to mind.
The job was supposed to be a simple one.
“Here is the address,” Jabberwocky had said, handing a slip of paper to me. He nodded to William. “Just the two of you. The banker left for Cambridge this morning. According to the maid, the safe is on the second floor behind a painting of Queen Victoria. Go now.”
“And what are we looking for?” William asked.
“Documents.”
“Surely he’ll have many papers on hand. How will we know which documents?” I asked.
“Just take all the papers you find in the safe. Leave anything of wealth. Just bring any papers,” Jabberwocky answered.
I frowned. It was unlike him to be so vague. But after that bloody business with Anna and the Queen of Hearts, I had begun to suspect Jabberwocky’s grasp was beginning to slip. Deals were going bad all around town. A new crew was starting to encroach on Jabberwocky’s territory, and he seemed reluctant to do anything to stop it. William had been patching the holes in the business and keeping things afloat. Jabberwocky seemed…distracted. I eyed him closely. Madame Mock, Jabberwocky’s mother, has degraded terribly in her final years. At the end, she knew no one, called Bess by her late sister’s name, and repeatedly asked for her mother. Jabberwocky seemed increasingly disorganized and distracted. I worried for him.
William nodded then turned to go. He only paused when he saw I wasn’t coming.
“If the papers are not in the safe, we’ll need to search the office. Sir, you know you can trust us. What are we looking for?”
Jabberwocky frowned then said, “The papers will contain the name Anastasia Otranto.”
“Who is Anastasia Otranto?” I asked.
“That’s all you need to know. See to it.”
“Yes, sir,” William said from behind me.
“Yes, sir,” I echoed.
Jabberwocky mumbled under his breath but never looked up at me.
I frowned and joined William.
“Nothing we can’t handle,” William said confidently as we headed out into the streets of London.
The sun was setting and there was a chill in the air. It was late fall. Winter was coming. Already the cough in Bess’s chest had started to rattle. I frowned and tried not to think of it. I pulled my coat tighter around me.
“You want to take a carriage?” William asked.
I shook my head. “Let’s walk. I want to think. I don’t like this. We don’t know anything. This is sloppy.”
“Ransom’s crew tried to take over another block today. Jabberwocky…I told him but he didn’t answer. Instead, he asked me to have some marmalade sent to his office. That was all. Jack and I are meeting with Ransom tomorrow. This job…something seems odd. Anastasia—whatever the name was—who is she?”
“I don’t know.”
William sighed heavily. He kept clenching and unclenching his jaw. What were we going to do? If Jabberwocky was slipping, it meant huge problems for all of us.
William and I worked our way across town until we came to the banker’s small townhouse. It was already dark, and the lamplighter had not yet arrived at this end of the street. The houses all along the row seemed empty, including the residence in question. We walked confidently to the front door. Doing so would put any passersby at ease. If we acted like we were supposed to be there, they would assume we were. I pulled out slim lock pick tools from the top of my boot and worked the lock. A moment later, the door opened, and we headed inside.
We paused a moment, closing the door quietly behind us. We stood still in the darkness, listening for any sounds of trouble.
The little house was quiet save the ticking of a clock. Nothing and no one was stirring.
William pulled out a pistol and a dagger, and we headed upstairs. William checked each room to ensure it was empty. We made our way to the second-floor office. The small space had a large desk littered with papers. The walls were lined with bookcases filled with leather tomes and other oddities.
I pulled the heavy drapes closed then lit a candle that was sitting on a desk.
There was a substantial amount of coin stacked there, but I didn’t touch it. I scanned around the room until I spotted a painting of Queen Victoria.
I motioned to William, and we headed toward the painting. It was attached to the wall but opened on a lever.
“Sorry, Your Majesty. Don’t look,” I told the image in the painting then pulled the lever.
The painting flapped open to reveal a safe built into the wall. I pulled a desk chair closer to the wall and climbed up so I could put my ear on the lock. I leaned in and began to slowly turn the tumbler. My ears pricked up, and I listened intently as the mechanism rolled as I turned the dial. It took some doing, but a few moments later, we both heard the telltale click as the safe unlocked.
“Got it,” I whispered.
William lifted the candle so I could have a better look inside.
Therein were numerous jewelry cases, gold watches, and stacks of coins. I moved them aside and pulled out a leather envelope. William held the candle while I untied the fasteners. I pulled out the papers from inside. I quickly noted a deed and a birth certificate with the name Anastasia Otranto thereon as well as some papers from the Bank of Scotland.
“Thieves,” a voice said from the office door.
William and I looked up to see a small man standing there. He was holding a lamp in one hand and a pistol in the other. From his dress, it was apparent he was the banker who was supposed to be in Cambridge.
I shoved the papers back into the envelope.
“Go,” I whispered to William.
I jumped from the chair as William turned and flung open the window.
“Stop or I’ll shoot,” the man said.
I cast a glance back. He was aiming his pistol at William.
“No need to get excited. You won’t find anything valuable missing,” I said.
William turned slowly.
“What? What are you talking about? What do you have there?” the banker asked. His glanced at the envelope. His eyes went wide. “Put those down,” he told me harshly, but his body belied the confidence he tried to exude. His hand was shaking, his finger squeezing the trigger too tightly. Just a tremor more, and we’d have a serious problem. He kept the gun on William, who was advancing slowly on him.
“Just stay calm,” William told him, putting on a false Irish accent. “No one needs to get hurt. Put that gun down.”
“Stop. Stop right where you are or I’ll shoot you both,” the banker told William.
Moving slowly, William pointed to the pistol in his own hand. “I seriously doubt you’re a faster shot than me. Why don’t you set that gun down?”
The banker looked at me. He was pale and trembling. “Put those papers down and go or I’ll shoot him.”
“Le
t’s just take it easy,” William said, stepping closer toward the banker.
“I said stop,” the man exclaimed.
William advanced quickly.
The man took a step back and fired.
William gasped as the shot grazed his shoulder.
A second later, the banker aimed again.
I had no time to think.
Dropping the pouch, I pulled the White Queen from my belt and threw her.
My aim was true. The dagger slammed into the man’s face, puncturing his eye.
His hold on the gun went soft, and the pistol fell to the floor. The man stood upright for a moment, a look of shock frozen on his face. Blood dripped from his eye. Then, he slumped to the ground.
William and I stood perfectly still.
The gunshot would be enough to raise an alarm. We needed to get out of there.
Collecting myself, I grabbed the file folder and rushed across the room. The banker lay dead on the floor. Blood pooled around his head. I reached down to pull out the dagger. She came loose with a spray of blood that covered my hands and forearms. “I…I killed him,” I whispered.
“Alice. Alice, I’m shot,” William said.
“He’s dead. I’ve killed a man.”
“You did it to save me. You saved my life, Alice.”
“But...he’s dead.” My stomach quaked so hard I almost vomited. I turned to look at William. He was holding his shoulder. Blood oozed from between his fingers. “William,” I whispered aghast, shocked to see him bleeding.
“We’ve got to go. Now. You have the papers?”