by Lynn Viehl
Wiggins looked at the rest of his boxes. “But that means . . . more than half of my boxes . . .”
“Have been stolen and replaced with fakes.” I took out my kerchief and wiped the polish from my finger. “Who dusts your collection, Mr. Wiggins?”
“I believe that would be Bertha.”
He turned and shouted the name, and a few moments later a plump maid strolled in.
“Bertha, someone has been stealing my bacco boxes and replacing them with counterfeits.”
“Someone like you,” Rina guessed.
The maid paled. “Please, sir, I didn’t want to. It’s me husband. He gambles, you see, and he lost his position, and he said you have so much, and we so little . . .” Her voice trailed off as she removed a cloth-wrapped bundle from her apron and held it out. “I can put this one back. I won’t do it again, I swear.”
“You’d spend twenty years at hard labor, all for a worthless sod.” Rina shook her head as she opened her reticule.
Wiggins looked down at the large handful of coin Rina gave him. “What’s this for?”
“Pawnshops,” she said. “To avoid suspicion she’ll have sold them to several, so have her take you round to each one. Tell them the boxes are stolen goods, mention the Yard, and they should sell them back to you for whatever pittance they gave her.”
“Thank you, miss,” Bertha gushed. “I promise, I’ll never steal again, no matter what—”
“And once you’ve gotten your things back,” Rina said to Wiggins, “send this stupid, thieving cow to me. I’ll take her round to see some of the gels that have gone to prison for their men. Maybe that’ll make her more honest in the future.”
Dredmore came up behind me. “That was exceedingly clever of you, Miss Kittredge.”
“Not as impressive as your waving a wand about and muttering incantations, I’ll wager.” I felt the hand he’d dropped on my shoulder. “Is this another attempt at a spell? If it’s to make my skin crawl, I think this time it’s actually working.”
His hand tightened. “You want to come away with me now.”
“I want a bathe.” I walked away from him, ignored the way my shoulder tingled, and collected Rina.
We’d been enemies ever since that first meeting, and nothing would ever change that. But while Dredmore could be vastly annoying, he’d never been able to do anything to harm me or my business.
The memory faded to a shadow as a shape hovered over me, large and dark and at first indistinct. I made out a black cloak, and under the cloak, a man—the man from the alley, the one who had saved my life, I realized. His eyes glowed like two stars in an empty midnight, cool and distant, but his hands felt warm and soothing on my face.
“Did they touch you?” a deep, utterly furious voice demanded.
“Of course they touched me,” I whispered against his palm. “They squashed me. They cut me.”
“Did they violate you?” the voice insisted.
“No, of course not.” I frowned. “They only tried to kill me. With ‘magic’ balls, if you can believe it. The dolts.”
My body floated off the cushions onto something harder and less cozy. This fantasy was becoming damnably uncomfortable.
“You live because magic cannot harm you,” he murmured. “I can reach you only through your dreams.” His arm supported my shoulders and my knees. I felt his groin against my hip, and his thighs beneath my buttocks. He traced the edges of my bandage and pressed my cheek against his chest, which filled me with a sense of drowsy well-being.
“That’s nice.” I snuggled. “Stay with me . . .”
His soft voice chilled. “What have you taken, Charmian?”
“Nothing. I drank some tea. It was awfully sweet. Like the old lady who brought it.” I breathed in the scent of burnt herbs and the sea and found the rest of my voice. “Do put me down, Dredmore.”
“You’ve been drugged.”
That made more sense of what was happening to me. “By you.” I batted him with a useless hand.
“Not by me.” He caught my fingers and brought them to his lips. “I don’t have to employ drugs. If I’d wanted you, I’d have carried you out of that alley. Now, where are you?”
“I’m here with you, idiot.” I wanted to scratch his eyes out, but I couldn’t feel my fingernails. “Why can’t you leave me alone?”
“I have asked myself the same question each day for five years,” he assured me. “The problem is, I don’t wish to know the answer.”
“Oh.” Somehow that made me feel a little better, and I relaxed against him. “Thank you for saving my life.”
“You’re welcome.”
“But you’re a very bad man. You do know that.”
“Charmian.” Lips touched the end of my nose. “You have no idea.”
“You’re not to kiss me when I’m drugged and helpless.” I glared at him. “I don’t want your kisses. I don’t want you. I don’t even like you.”
“You don’t have to like it, my sweet,” he said, and this time kissed my mouth. “You have only to stop fighting me. Allow me to release you.”
I frowned. “I’m not under arrest. I’m drugged. I’m dreaming. Why haven’t you put me down?”
“This.” He wrapped a hand around my neck. “This is the dream, the drug. The prison you’ve lived in your entire life. It’s time you rid yourself of it.” His starlit eyes glittered down at me. “I will free you, my gel, very soon, and then you will be mine.”
His fingers bit into my neck, so tight that I couldn’t speak or breathe. I latched on to his wrist and pulled, but I had no strength. Then a blue light blinded me, and he swore and hurled me away.
I woke up as I hit hard wood face-first. I yelped and then pushed myself up onto my elbows. I was on the floor beside Doyle’s couch. My head wobbled as I looked around me, but the office was empty.
“Bloody hell.” My belly heaved, and I crawled over to a rubbish can just in time.
“Steady, Kit.” Rina knelt beside me and supported my head with kid-gloved hands. “Go on, I’ve got you.”
The heaves continued until I couldn’t bring anything else up, and then a little longer as my belly refused to be convinced it was empty.
Once the final spasm passed, Rina wiped my mouth with one corner of her black fichu. “There now, that’s better.” She helped me up and held me steady. “Where’s the bloody lav?”
“Through there,” I heard Doyle say.
I let Rina tend to me, rinsing out my mouth with the water she held to my lips and blowing into the handkerchief she placed over my nose.
“Let’s have a look now.” She tipped my head back and peered into my eyes, and swore softly. “Bugger me, you’ve been dosed.”
I saw Doyle in the doorway at the same time I became aware of my painfully heavy bladder. “Loo.”
Rina turned to the inspector. “Out.” She pushed the door closed after him and helped me with my skirts.
I hissed as my bare bottom touched the cold porcelain. “What are you doing here?”
“I went round your place this morning, saw the copper wardlings, and came here,” she said. “Who rolled you?”
“Two snuffmages waiting outside Bridget’s.” I finished and put my clothes to rights. “Why did you go to the flat? You know I’m never there after seven.”
“No, you were here, and all night, too.” She grabbed my chin and looked into my eyes again. “The swine in charge said when they couldn’t rouse you, they brought in a physick. Sweet Mary, look at your eyes.”
All I remembered was the dream of being strangled by Dredmore. “A little nap never hurt anyone.”
“A little?” Her brows rose. “Love, you’ve been out cold for the last eighteen hours.”
Rina ushered me back into the office, where Doyle was waiting for us. “I’m taking her.”
“Not yet.” He took out a notebook. “I need some answers from her.”
“I really like him,” I confided to Rina. “Too bad he’s the law.”<
br />
“Shut up, Kit.” To Doyle, Rina said, “Has she been charged with an offense? No? You lot too busy dosing her with ruddy joy, then?”
“Tommy?” I tried to wave a hand and nearly smacked myself in the eye. “He wouldn’t do that. He likes me too much.”
“Shut up, Kit.” Doyle snapped his notebook closed and regarded Rina. “I did nothing of the sort to her. What kind of man do you think I am?”
“Like all the others in the world. Stupid. Did you really think it would make her talk?” She tightened her arm around me. “The poor gel’s never had it, you dolt. Much as you dosed her, I’m surprised she woke up at all.”
“We don’t drug suspects,” Doyle said between clenched teeth. “She ran afoul of some snuffmages; maybe they added more than killing powder to bespell her.”
“Bespelled my ass.” Rina thrust me toward him. “Look at her eyes. You know what poppy dust does to the whites. Go on, look. Red as roses, they are.” She brought a fold of my skirt up to her nose and sniffed it. “Nothing but charcoal.”
Doyle looked and muttered words unbecoming an officer of the Yard. “Someone must have slipped it to her another way.”
“In here?” Rina made a rude sound. “How?”
“In my tea,” I offered dully. “Tasted funny.”
“The guild master.” The inspector swore softly.
“Sodding bastards tried to get at her again, right under your noses. Come on, love, we’re leaving.” Rina steered me toward the door.
He stepped in front of it. “You’ll need protection.”
“Wreck,” Rina called out.
The door opened inward, hitting Doyle in the back and shoving him aside. He spun around, fist curled, and then took a step back.
Wrecker stepped in and turned toward the inspector, his face bland. “Take care of this one, milady?”
“Not just yet, Wreck.” To Doyle, Rina said, “Here’s my protection.” She patted the broad wall of Wrecker’s chest. “Got anything bigger than this, cop?” When Doyle remained silent, she said, “Didn’t think so.”
My throat burned and I thought my head might tumble off my shoulders a few times on the way out of the station, but by the time Rina and Wrecker helped me into the carri and we were on our way, my thoughts cleared.
“Don’t take me home,” I told my friend. “I need to go in to work.”
“With you nattering on and your eyes like that?” Rina hooted. “They’ll toss your ass out in the street and cancel your office lease. No, love, we’re going to the Lily.”
“I don’t have time for a bath.”
“That’s tragic.” Rina sniffed. “So is the way you smell.”
I didn’t have the strength to bicker, so I leaned back against the neck rest and closed my eyes.
If the guild master had drugged my tea, it may have been to render me helpless against a second attack—and he would have needed at least one man on the inside. I knew Doyle couldn’t have been involved; he wouldn’t have saved my life to attack me in a police station. If for any reason Dredmore wanted me dead, he could have stood by in the alley and watched the snuffmage cut my throat. I was less sure of Mary Harris, but I couldn’t imagine why a nice old lady who believed she protected people with her idiot spells would get mixed up with hired killers.
Drugging me helpless was too similar to what had been done to Diana Walsh. It stank of the same combination of cunning and cowardice.
As the last of the joy’s effects faded, I began to feel wretched. I wanted to go home and barricade myself in my flat. But even there I wouldn’t be safe, not from someone who could doctor my tea in a police station, or assault me in my sleep.
Dredmore.
Physicks believed that dreams were the mind’s suppressed desires and fears. Across the pond, there were new types of phsyicks who even studied dreams in hopes of connecting them to body ailments. I’d never thought much about it—I hardly ever remembered my dreams—but Lucien Dredmore kissing and then trying to choke me to death in my mind could be nothing more than a garden-variety nightmare.
Besides, why would he try to kill me in my dreams when he’d saved me in the alley?
When we reached the Lily, I was able to climb down out of the carri without assistance. Rina still took my arm as if she was afraid I’d run away.
“Two for the works,” she told the gel at the desk inside, who gave me a single scandalized glance before accepting Rina’s payment.
“Will you be having a massage today, madam?” the desklass asked.
“No, and we don’t need maids; we’ll see to ourselves.” Rina took the key the gel handed her and glanced back at Wrecker. “Go back to the house and ask Almira to give you a complete change for Miss Kit. Tell her something light and warm.”
“Right away, milady.” Wrecker touched his cap and took off.
“You can’t throw away my skirts,” I told Rina as she walked me back to the private bathing room. “I need them.”
“As what? Cleaning rags? ’Sall they’re good for now.” She unlocked the door and gave me a little push. “Come on, the stink of you is about to make me puke.”
“I need the skirts”—I paused as Rina pulled my bodice out of my waister and over my head—“to test the powder on them from the snuffmages’ balls”—I turned so she could unknot the mangle of my fasteners—“and see if it contains poppy dust.”
“I’ve already checked it; it’s charcoal, nothing more.” She pulled out a fold on my skirt and bent over to examine the stain. “No one would toss this much red joy at you, Kit. It’d cost the earth. The coppers were the ones that dosed you.”
“They’ve no motive,” I reminded her as I tried to unlace the front of my chemise. My fingers felt thick and I fumbled until she pushed my hands aside. “Doyle thinks I’m in on some extortion scheme. You don’t try to kill someone you think is nicking coin from the tonners.”
“In case you’ve forgotten, my gel, Doyle works for the Hill,” she snapped. “If they told him to dress you like a performing ape, put you on a leash, and take you for a walk, he’d be trotting you round Central Square right now.”
“No.” I set my jaw. “Not Tommy. He’s not like that.”
“For bleeding Christ’s sake, Kit, he’s little more than a nobber in fancy dress. Get over him.” She helped me out of my drawers and pointed to the slats. “Use the hot,” she said as she began undressing, “or you’ll never work that dried muck out of your hair.”
I stood naked on the spaced slats and reached up for the red shower pull. The water that gushed over me was almost too hot to bear, but I stood under the wide stream and let it soak me thoroughly. Once my hair was plastered to my skull, I reached for a handful of scented soap mash and began working it into my snarled, filthy locks.
Rina came over with a handled sponge but set it aside to peek under the bandage on my arm. “Shit. That sod have the decency to clean this?”
I felt like yanking on the blue pull. “He’s not a sod, and yes, he did, quite nicely.”
“Nicely my ass.” She dipped the end of the sponge into the bowl on the soap stand, coating it well before going to work on my back. “No such thing as a nice copper.”
“You’ve met all of them at Rumsen Main, I suppose.” I picked up another handle and went to work on my front.
Once I was properly soaped up, I tugged on the purple pull and lifted my face into the warm stream. I might have stood there for a year, it felt so good, but once I’d washed all the soap away, I released the pull and wiped my hands up my face and over my head.
“Get in and soak,” Rina told me before she went to another slat stand to wash herself.
I climbed down the short steps into the pool, letting my cooled skin grow accustomed to the heat before I slipped down and let the water close over my head briefly. Once I’d soaked enough, I straightened and went to sit on one of the submerged benches, where Rina joined me.
“You’ll come stay with me until they nail the bastards after you,
” she decided as she reclined back against the tile rest. “You can have poor Liv’s rooms.”
“Can’t,” I told her. “I have to go back to Walsh’s on Friday for dinner.”
“What? Dinner at Walsh’s?” She sat up and stared at me. “You fancy a trip to the loonhouse? I can save us all a lot of grief and have Wrecker take you there directly.”
“They wouldn’t have me.” I splashed her a little. “I promised the lady I’d save her marriage. She’s in a bad way, Rina, and some of it’s my doing.”
“Oh, and she’s seen to it that you’re covered in diamonds, has she?” she demanded. “Kit, someone just tried to kill you. Twice. If you’re lucky and lay low, maybe they won’t try a third time and succeed.”
“I’ll be careful.” I turned to her. “You can help me.”
She smacked the side of my head. “There. Did that help?”
“No.” I rubbed the sore spot. “You know enough dusters to find out if someone’s been buying red.”
“Someone like?”
Mentioning the dream would only get me smacked again. “I think it could have been Dredmore.”
“Lucien Dredmore’s mixed up in this?” She groaned as she fell back. “Of course he is. I suppose you accidentally ran afoul of him. How many times does this make it? Forty? Fifty?”
“He nabbed me on the Hill after I had tea at Walsh’s,” I admitted. “He warned me off them.”
“Lovely.” She made a contemptuous sound. “I’ll send him some posies to express my gratitude.”
“Dredmore knows something about Nolan Walsh and his financial business,” I said thoughtfully. “And he never dirties his hands with paltry scams. Has to be something much bigger to tempt him.”
“That black-eyed beast wants only one thing,” Rina snapped. “You. And he’ll tell you whatever he likes if it means having you.”
I sank down. “I won’t let him.”
“He’s never made a real effort, you daft twit.” Rina turned on me. “Come on, Kit. You know the man’s got more funds than three governors. His servants are nothing more than a gang of kneecappers and necktwisters. If he decides to pluck you off the street like a bun from a corner cart and take you to that tomb of his on the cliffs, who’s to stop him? Who’s to care?”