《Red Dog Conspiracy: A Noir Future Steampunk Crime Family Saga》


 Chapter 1: The Jacq of Spades - Round 1: The Letter

    A domed city, split by four rivers, an island at its center. In the southeast quadrant, a taxi-carriage pulled up to a shop on 2nd Street. In the gutter lay a card:


    BRIDGES: 500 YEARS OF CULTURE


    THE JEWEL OF THE GREAT PLAINS


    The postcard depicting an elegant couple crossing a golden bridge lay in horse manure. A carriage-track ran through it.


    I stepped over the scene as I climbed from the taxi-carriage, my borrowed boots grating on the rough concrete sidewalk. Trash flew past in the wind. The air smelled of rain, clouds hanging dark in the afternoon sky. ¡°How much to wait?¡±


    The clocks chimed half past two. The driver, in his sixties, pushed his goggles up on his forehead. His horse tossed its head and shifted. ¡°Here? Penny now, penny when you done,¡± he paused, leering, ¡°cause I like you.¡± He made no attempt to hide his survey of my person.


    Unimpressed, I handed him the penny, entering the white wooden storefront as large drops fell.


    The floorboards squeaked. The front room, lit by a bulb hanging from the ceiling, smelled of mildew. Grayish-green paint flaked off the walls.


    The woman behind the counter, pale with graying brown hair, wore widow¡¯s brown. ¡°Welcome to Bryce Fabrics. How can I help you?¡±


    Eleanora. When I last saw her ten years ago, she screamed curses and wept. How could she be here? What would she do? I felt an urge to run.


    I took a deep breath. A child changed more in ten years than a woman. Her face held no recognition. ¡°You sent for assistance?¡±


    ¡°Oh! Yes!¡± She grabbed my hand, her relief plain. ¡°I¡¯m Eleanora Bryce. I¡¯m so glad you came.¡±


    She led me behind the counter and into their back room. Three beds and a rickety desk lined the walls. A small table with two stools sat in the center. A rusty hat-rack stood in the corner close by: three thin, battered coats hung there.


    A tall, thin adolescent with dark hair sat on a stool in the far left corner. He pointed when I entered the room. ¡°That¡¯s her!¡±


    He was six when last I saw him. How did he recognize me?


    He held up the newspaper with my portrait (among others) on the front page. Emblazoned across the top, it read:


    GRAND BALL EXTRAVAGANZA!


    Bridges Family Meeting Countdown!


    Mrs. Bryce grabbed the paper from his hand, then peered at me. ¡°Herbert, you¡¯re right, it is her!¡±


    Mrs. Bryce appeared astonished to see me in my disguise: a shop maid¡¯s uniform, black with a white apron. ¡°Mrs. Spadros herself!¡± She curtsied. ¡°I would never have called if I would have known such a fine lady would answer!¡±


    I felt sad. Would she be glad to see me if she learned my true identity? Would she curtsy then, or would she strike me?


    Rain beat against the windows and lightning flashed, the rumbling of thunder close behind.


    Herbert didn¡¯t bow.


    Those same eyes.


    The same pale serious face.


    ¡°Jacqui, don¡¯t go.¡±


    The moon hung high overhead. The frigid air smelled of dirt and sweat. Thirty children trained at knife-fighting by lamp-light a few yards up the narrow alley.


    ¡°Please don¡¯t go. This feels bad. Men don¡¯t want little kids for nothing good.¡±


    Mrs. Bryce said, ¡°My boy¡¯s gone missing.¡±


    Startled at her words, I jolted out of the memory. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°My son. He¡¯s missing. It¡¯s why I called you.¡± Several portraits sat upon a tiny dresser in the corner across the room to the right. Mrs. Bryce went to it and handed me a tintype photo: a boy. Light skin, dark hair, dark eyes, round face. She claimed he was twelve; he looked closer to ten.


    Sitting with Ma at her trestle table in the cathedral, eating warm bread with butter. The sounds of moaning and panting down the hall behind the tan linen curtains. Telling Ma our story and laughing at escaping the police. The smells of sex and baking in the air. His big dark eyes happy, his pale face flushed with the liquor he tasted and the candle-lit warmth. His little legs kicked under the stool ¡­


    I shook my head, trying to clear the memories of that terrible night. ¡°This is a recent picture?¡±


    Mrs. Bryce nodded. ¡°Yes, mum, taken before Yuletide. Maybe three weeks ago? Right after we moved here.¡±


    ¡°And you¡¯re sure he didn¡¯t run off?¡±


    Mrs. Bryce¡¯s brown eyes filled with tears. ¡°No, mum, I swear. David was a good boy, in the midst of his chore-work. ¡®Off to sweep the stair,¡¯ he said, ¡®I¡¯ll be right back.¡¯ He never came in.¡±


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Thunder pealed. Harsh light illuminated the barren room.


    I called myself an investigator, but I investigated minor matters: a missing dog, renters who moved without paying. So this case violated rules I laid for myself. I avoided police affairs ¡­


    ¡°I can¡¯t pay you ¡­¡± Mrs. Bryce said.


    ¡­ and I didn¡¯t do a case without payment in advance. Not even this one.


    ¡°¡­ but I¡¯ll do whatever you like, anything, if you¡¯ll help me.¡±


    I never liked Eleanora. She never liked me. When she realized who I was ¡­.


    ¡°Please, mum, I know how it looks. The police said he run off, but I know he was taken and they all ignore me.¡±


    This woman lived most of her life a dozen blocks from this very point, well on the other side of that spiked wrought-iron fence encircling the Pot. Why would she expect the police to help an out-of-town widow with no Family connections and no bribe money? Had she really forgotten?


    My borrowed corset pinched at the hips; it chafed with every move. I wanted to change into my own clothes, get away from this room full of bad memories and guilt.


    I regarded the portrait, feeling melancholy: David looked just like him. ¡°Show me where you last saw the boy.¡±


    The Bryce¡¯s back stair appeared much like any two blocks from the Pot: rickety wooden steps with rusty metal banisters leading down to a rat-infested alley.


    Clouds loomed dark across the sky. The only real light came from an oil lamp far down the alley to our right. We took refuge from the downpour under the eaves, out of the wind.


    A dark figure moved in the shadows twenty yards to our left. Something about him frightened me. I hoped the rain would hide our words and send him away.


    ¡°When your boy disappeared, did you find anything amiss?¡±


    ¡°Nothing at all. Everything was as it should be, except I found his little broom on the ground,¡± her voice broke, ¡°and him gone.¡±


    I surveyed the alley. It appeared normal ¡­ except ¡­


    I crossed towards a red spot on the far wall, near waist level. ¡°Was this here before he went missing?¡±


    ¡°No, mum, at least, I don¡¯t think so.¡±


    I leaned over to examine the spot, Tenni¡¯s corset stabbing at my midsection. A solid red silhouette of a dog, ink-stamped onto the wall.


    The tower clock chimed three. The man began walking towards us.


    ¡°I must go.¡± I might be Jacqueline Spadros, but that would hardly stop a scoundrel from committing robbery or worse before he learned of it. We hurried back inside, and I breathed a sigh of relief when the door locked behind me.


    Then I remembered I carried weapons, and felt silly.


    Mrs. Bryce said, ¡°You¡¯re going to find him ¡­ right?¡±


    I shook my head and kept walking through the room. The situation frightened me. ¡°This is a police matter, and I can¡¯t be involved. No quadrant-lady can, but especially not me.¡±


    ¡°But¡ª¡±


    I turned to her. ¡°Do you realize who my father-in-law is? What he would do to all three of us (I gestured at Herbert) if he learned I came here?¡±


    She turned even paler than she was, and nodded.


    ¡°Don¡¯t ever contact me at my home again. It¡¯s much too dangerous. If you wish to hire me in the future, send a note to Madame Biltcliffe. Address it to my maid Amelia Dewey.¡±


    Mrs. Bryce stared at me, mouth open. ¡°I ¡ª I never sent anything to your home, mum! I swear!¡±


    I put my hand in my pocket, touched the letter hidden there. ¡°I¡¯m curious. Why did you contact Madame Biltcliffe?¡± My dressmaker Marie Biltcliffe owned a shop in downtown Spadros quadrant; she sent me cases from time to time.


    ¡°When I went to the police station, mum,¡± she said, ¡°a couple sat nearby. They must have heard me talk to the constable. The lady told me I might find help there.¡±


    A couple so certain of Madame Biltcliffe¡¯s association with an investigator that they told others of it? ¡°Did they give any names?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t ask,¡± Mrs. Bryce said. ¡°I was so upset ¡­¡±


    ¡°I understand. What did the couple look like?¡±


    Mrs. Bryce smiled like a young girl. ¡°Nice looking, especially the man!¡± She fanned herself with her left hand. ¡°They were about your age, and the lady had red hair.¡±


    This didn¡¯t help much. ¡°If you meet them again, please let me know.¡± I felt like a traitor. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I really am. But I can¡¯t help you. Leave this to the police.¡±


    Walking through the front room of this shop, I knew the right thing to do, even then. But I felt too afraid.


    I handed the taxi-driver his penny. ¡°Madame Biltcliffe¡¯s dress shop on 42nd street, please.¡±


    His mother Eleanora, in Bridges, her youngest gone missing.


    David looked just like him.


    ¡°Jacqui, you shouldn¡¯t go.¡±


    Heedless of the pedestrians and carriages beside me in the street, I wept.


    * * *


    I entered Madame Biltcliffe¡¯s dress shop through her back door. A warm glow and the smell of fresh linen greeted me. Madame¡¯s shop maid Tenni handed me a hat box. ¡°For tonight.¡±


    I smiled. Quite clever, Madame.


    Tenni was just seventeen, yet appeared much like me from behind ¡ª curled reddish-brown hair, light brown skin. We wore close to the same size, and I often used Tenni as a decoy when on a case: I would wear her clothes, and she mine.


    We went to a fitting room. Tenni helped me change into my original dress, a peacock blue walking gown. My husband Tony said he liked it because it matched my eyes.


    I sighed with relief on removing Tenni¡¯s new maid¡¯s corset, which left a red mark on my hip. ¡°Did anyone inquire for me?¡±


    ¡°No, mum. And I stayed out of sight, as you asked.¡±


    ¡°Good girl.¡± I gave her a penny.


    Tenni curtsied. ¡°Thank you, mum.¡±


    ¡°Ask Madame to return.¡±


    Madame Marie Biltcliffe entered: a tall, handsome, middle-aged woman with perfect black hair.


    ¡°Have either of you spoken to anyone about my business? Someone who decided not to contact me?¡±


    They both shook their heads.


    ¡°I have never had anyone refuse your help who I referred,¡± Madame said. ¡°And I never speak your name before the meeting.¡±


    ¡°Mrs. Bryce said a young woman with red hair told her to contact you.¡±


    Madame Biltcliffe frowned. ¡°I know of no such woman.¡±


    ¡°I feel confused, Madame. When Mrs. Bryce wrote you, why did you not contact me?¡±


    She seemed surprised. ¡°I never contact you until I speak with the woman myself. I didn¡¯t know her, and she merely sent a note. If she would have waited ¡ª¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°She says she didn¡¯t write to me.¡±


    ¡°How strange.¡± Madame Biltcliffe appeared as perplexed as I felt. ¡°I suppose I am glad she is no forger.¡±


    I laughed at that thought. ¡°No, that she is not.¡±


    I remembered my sore midsection. ¡°Would you make a maid¡¯s corset for me to keep here for future use?¡±


    ¡°I would be happy to.¡± Madame Biltcliffe smiled and went to the curtain, holding it open for me. I emerged from the dressing room, and she curtsied as I passed by.


    I breezed out of the shop and onto the street. My black and silver carriage stood ready, drawn by black horses with silver tack. As I took my day footman Skip Honor¡¯s hand to enter the coach, I glanced to my left.


    A man wearing brown stood several doors down, turning away at my glance. I didn¡¯t see his face, but he seemed familiar. I felt certain he had been watching me.


    I turned to Honor. ¡°That man. How long has he stood there?¡±


    But when Honor and I looked again, the man was gone.


    * * *


    While in the coach on the way home, I pulled the letter from my pocket.


    Dear Mrs. Spadros ¡ª


    I hate to impose upon you during the holiday, but it would be of much help if you could find time to call on me today. My maid Tenni will, of course, be ready to assist you. It is a matter of some urgency.


    Your servant, Marie Biltcliffe


    The letter, on Madame¡¯s stationery, scented with her perfume, and in her handwriting. Madame claimed she never sent it. Mrs. Bryce claimed she never sent it either. Then who did? And why?


    A puzzle. I moved the pieces around in my mind and could make nothing of it.

 Chapter 1: The Jacq of Spades - Round 2: The Ball (part 1)

    The Grand Ball. The one night this town of thieves and liars pretended they weren¡¯t ready to stab each other at the slightest provocation. I anticipated an interesting time.


    Stars studded the night sky as we alighted from the coach. My husband Tony took my hand, and we moved through the crowds lining the wide marble stairs to the Grand Ball House.


    Tony¡¯s men scanned the people and rooftops for danger, and the crowd parted before them. We stopped on occasion to allow the newsmen to take our photos with a flash and a puff of smoke.


    Fireworks boomed above us. In the distance, cheers went up after each fiery blossom.


    Boom. Cheer.


    Boom. Cheer.


    Fireworks reminded me of him. Every New Year¡¯s Eve, we played with his wind-up automatons, made from bits of junk he found. When we were eleven, he set them all walking around his flat roof while we watched the show and laughed. He never saw fireworks again.


    I felt Tony¡¯s solemn blue eyes upon me; I had stopped on the stair. I took a deep breath to clear my head, to smooth my face for the cameras, and continued on. The lamps threw strange shadows behind and between our paid admirers.


    I imagined the other Families climbing their own staircases. Why have our own photographers, our own toadies throwing hothouse flowers? Why this fragile ceasefire, which required separate entry to the building to ensure peace?


    A magnificent building once, the years had not been kind to the old Ball House. The occasional coat of whitewash did little to hide the cracks in the foundation as the island the Ball House sat upon sank under the weight of so much falsehood.


    We reached the top of the stairs without incident. Armed men in black and silver Spadros livery opened the brown paneled doors for us.


    Inside lay a rosewood-paneled antechamber, smelling of lemon polish. To our left, brown leather attached with brass tacks covered the top of the coat-counter.


    ¡°Take your coats and hat?¡±


    Tony handed over his top hat and overcoat, then brushed a strand of black hair back into place.


    ¡°And your weapon, sir.¡±


    Tony hesitated, then retrieved his holstered revolver from his left pocket.


    Tony helped me out of my floor-length forest green over-coat. It was my favorite: trimmed, beaded, and embroidered in black. I took Tony¡¯s arm as he led me to the Ladies¡¯ Room.


    A woman dressed in black and silver opened the door, and the scent of cut flowers billowed towards me. The Ladies¡¯ Room glowed yellow in the lamplight. Mirrored in front of me and to my left, the room overflowed with flowers and glittering ladies. These ladies were the most trusted wives and sisters of Tony¡¯s main men.


    The women beckoned me to the center of the room past a small table and ottoman. They took my new green velvet hat, fussing over my hair. Then they brushed off mud and blotted out wet spots on my gown. I sat on the ottoman, where they exchanged my muddy boots for soft green dinner shoes. When I presented myself to the Ballroom, I must appear flawless, or they would face questions as to why.


    Every so often, a loudspeaker blared to my right announcing each group. The words were incoherent, muffled by distance and closed doors.


    My lady¡¯s maid Amelia brought my cigarettes. Short, plump, her black hair turning gray, Amelia Dewey wore a uniform like my disguise a few hours earlier. I let her light me up and took a long drag.


    The golden lamplight reminded me of home. Not my gilded cage in Spadros Manor, but my real home in the Pot, the Cathedral.


    Ma was beautiful, the owner of the finest brothel in the Pot. Her hair was curly and dark; her skin, soft and brown. She taught me how to make deals, how to run the business, how to smile at a mark. I missed her so much it hurt.


    Was she safe? Was she happy? Had she learned to live without me?


    Amelia rose. ¡°It¡¯s time, mum.¡± Entering the Ballroom at the scheduled time kept us from meeting another Family in the hallway without our men to protect us.


    I went across the room, through the door, and to the right, down a long red-carpeted hallway to the Ballroom entry. Jazz music played far in the distance, growing louder as I approached: a dance tune.


    Tony waited at the closed doors and smiled when he saw me approach. ¡°Into battle.¡±


    I laughed in spite of myself as the doors opened.


    A golden railing lay before us. A long sweeping stair led down along the wall to our right. Beyond and far below, at least two hundred people danced. The polished oak floor gleamed.


    A great red pillar stood in the center of the room, rising to a white and gold vaulted ceiling. A large raised area surrounded it, bordered by four long steps and large enough for a whole party of its own. Rectangular tables stood on this dais. Here the four Family heads sat with their Inventors, one group to each table, on all four sides.


    Bridges had a Mayor, a Chief of Police, but the Families ruled the city.


    The platform rotated with clockwork precision. When a group appeared at the appointed time, their Family heads faced the stair to greet them. A jazz orchestra sat at the far left of the dais, the members sorting their sheet music.


    An announcer stood by a podium to our right, a loudspeaker in hand. He glanced at us as we came through the doors, checked his pocket-watch and a list, then nodded. ¡°MR. AND MRS. ANTHONY SPADROS.¡±


    We descended into the Ballroom, accompanied by applause. The room smelled of cooked meats, candles, perfumes, flowers, and floor polish. It smelled of a party trying to be fine, and it looked the part.


    The Ballroom walls were white paneling, edged with gold, with red velvet inlays. But our Family colors decked the room as well. Black velvet with silver embroidery covered the tables; silver candlesticks sat upon them. Tacky, but it got the point across: the Spadros Family hosted the Grand Ball this year.


    Tables lined the walls, laden with trays of cubed meats, candied fruits, cheeses, and small sandwiches. Waiters wearing black and silver brought drinks and cleared tables.


    Tony¡¯s parents already sat at their table on the raised area. Crossing the hall, we went to the steps to greet them.


    Glittering strands of snow now crept in among his black-ice hair, but the name Roy Spadros still turned brave men into statues of frozen terror.


    I remembered the frigid night I first saw him. He stood on the cobblestones in that moonlit intersection composed, as if in complete control as people died around him.


    Roy smelled of cold hard cash; his tuxedo, black as a clear winter¡¯s night. Blue-ice eyes stared out from a pale uncaring face, yet he could pretend courtesy when he wanted.


    ¡°Hello, Anthony, Jacqui.¡± He spoke with no emotion as he shook Tony¡¯s hand and kissed mine. ¡°Good to see you.¡±


    ¡°And you too, sir,¡± Tony said.


    Molly Hogan Spadros was beautiful, buxom, and raven-haired. She wore heavy makeup and a long-sleeved red gown which showed her figure to good advantage.


    She hugged each of us in turn and didn¡¯t flinch when I hugged her back. ¡°I am so glad to see you.¡±


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    ¡°And you.¡± Her nose had healed, and she no longer wore her cast. Matters in Roy¡¯s empire must please him these days.


    The orchestra began to play, dancers swirling around us. Our Inventor, Maxim Call, closed-lipped and eccentric as most on the Board were, didn¡¯t rise. He scribbled in a notebook, glancing up to nod at us.


    After our visit with Tony¡¯s parents, we circled the dais as it rotated, visiting the heads of each Family in turn. I didn¡¯t know them well, but we were only expected to offer brief greetings. Politeness dictated we should be off the dais before the announcement of the next guests.


    Charles and Judith Hart were both red-haired, although silver battled red. It was clear Charles enjoyed his meals ¡ª and if rumors told true, his vodka ¡ª much more than he should. The couple wore forest green trimmed in silver, which suited them.


    Roy Spadros despised Charles Hart; any mention of the man¡¯s name threw him into a rage. Roy placed the orchestra in front of the Harts as an insult, so their people would have to walk around it to greet them.


    I believe Roy intended me to kill Charles Hart one day. But Roy did not excel in persuasion. At the time, I saw more reason to kill Roy Spadros than Charles Hart, should the choice ever appear.


    For I remembered the glint on Mr. Hart¡¯s cheek at my wedding. It would not surprise me if Roy knew of Mr. Hart¡¯s soft-hearted nature, and let him attend just to watch him cry. Roy¡¯s motivation for any action was to cause pain; it seemed to be the only thing which gave him real enjoyment.


    Mr. Hart held our hands in his and smiled at us as proudly as if we were his own children. ¡°How are you?¡±


    ¡°Quite well, sir,¡± Tony said, and I nodded.


    Mrs. Hart fixed her eyes on Tony. ¡°A pleasure to see you.¡± In all the times we met, she never once looked me in the eye.


    I smiled. ¡°A pleasure to see you too.¡±


    She flinched and set her jaw. So disdain, not shyness, kept her from greeting me.


    Get in line with the rest, sugar.


    The Harts¡¯ Inventor (and heir) Etienne Hart never acknowledged us, so engrossed was he in his book. His thick spectacles had a multiplicity of lenses for closer magnification.


    Julius and Rachel Diamond, so dark of skin and hair, were the most attractive and the youngest of the Family heads. They gained their title when the elder Mr. Diamond turned his cards in six years ago.


    Rumor had it the father¡¯s death was not natural, but who expected a Family Patriarch to die in peace?


    Julius wore a black tuxedo with a white cravat. Ironic, since Tony wore the same. Rachel wore a beaded, embroidered silver-gray gown. One of the Diamond sons (they had seven in all) stood across the table. We waited at a discreet distance until the man finished conversing with his father.


    The man, just past thirty, glared at Tony when he saw us, then left. We came forward.


    ¡°Hello,¡± Mr. Diamond said, but he didn¡¯t offer his hand to either of us. A powerfully built man, but a fiercely suspicious one.


    ¡°Hello, sir.¡± Tony didn¡¯t offer his hand either.


    Julius Diamond had never spoken to Tony in my presence otherwise. Something deep lay in his eyes, close to outrage, as if Tony once gave him a terrible insult which felt fresh, which he could never forgive. Tony had never revealed what sparked his wrath; he accepted the anger as if he deserved it.


    ¡°One of these days we must get together.¡± Mrs. Diamond spoke in a childlike tone. Could she be unaware of her younger son¡¯s vendetta against our Family, the glares of her older son, the open hostility of her husband?


    They say Rachel Diamond was once a brilliant woman, who never recovered from the death of her father-in-law. I felt it a pity not to have met her before then. ¡°Yes, we must.¡±


    Their Inventor, a thin man with a face to match, tinkered with his pocket-watch there at the table, unaware of our presence.


    Alexander and Regina Clubb had bright blue eyes and golden hair. Lean and athletic, they appeared much younger than the truth, by all accounts. Some whispered Regina must be at least seventy, her oldest daughter being over fifty. Whatever her age, Regina had smooth skin and a fine figure. Her royal blue gown matched Alexander¡¯s cravat.


    Alexander Clubb had a mechanical left arm, a memento from the Bloody Year long before my birth. Rumor said his arm was a marvel, made by a master craftsman, and all the fingers worked. Just a glint of bronze and leather showed between his white glove and shirtsleeve when he greeted us.


    ¡°We¡¯re launching our new yacht next month, assuming the weather holds warm,¡± Mrs. Clubb said. ¡°Would you like to visit for a week in the Spring?¡±


    We glanced at each other. The invitation seemed genuine. ¡°Certainly!¡± Tony said. ¡°Please send word when you¡¯re ready.¡±


    Their Inventor, a young brown-haired woman, smiled and shook hands without rising. To speak with another Family¡¯s Inventor raised suspicion. So our duties completed and the music waning, we descended to join the real party.


    I glanced back at the dais. ¡°What do you suppose the Clubbs were about?¡±


    Tony smiled for the first time since entering the ballroom. ¡°We¡¯ll learn soon enough. Neither of them breathe without it being part of some intrigue.¡±


    The loudspeaker blared, the applause died down, and the music began. Tony and I danced a slow waltz, deliberately circling the dais. This gave us the opportunity to survey the room. Couples from all four Families danced around us. Since the Bad Times, much of the city¡¯s population had Family ties, even if ¡°under the table.¡±


    ¡°Fled, dead, or in a Family bed,¡± so it was said.


    Lance Clubb, a shy blond man of three and twenty, chatting with Julius Diamond? A more unlikely pair I couldn¡¯t imagine.


    ¡°What do you find funny?¡±


    I gestured with my chin, and Tony peeked at the two.


    Julius Diamond beamed, shaking Lance Clubb¡¯s hand with enthusiasm.


    ¡°I have a guess as to that.¡±


    ¡°Do tell.¡±


    ¡°You like puzzles, solve it yourself.¡±


    Lance was Alex and Regina Clubb¡¯s youngest child, only son, and the Clubb Family heir. But what could he have said to please Julius Diamond so much? I needed more information, so I put the matter aside.


    The music ended, the loudspeaker died away, and we turned to promenade the room. ¡°A drink?¡± Tony said.


    ¡°Will they serve anything stronger than port?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s unseemly for you to drink liquor in public.¡±


    I laughed. ¡°You mean to drink a ¡®man¡¯s drink.¡¯¡±


    He continued on with the same pace, his face and body not showing his emotions. He was a master at it. ¡°No, Jacqui, you drink too much. The amount you drink at these events is commented upon.¡±


    I patted his arm. ¡°I am always in perfect control of my faculties. I would never cause you embarrassment.¡±


    ¡°We shall see.¡± But he brought me to the bar anyway. Tony could never deny me anything back then.


    The bar did have some proper drinks after all. I chose a rum and soda. Tony chose a table across the room where we could see the staircase, the dais, and the dancers.


    ¡°The perfect place to sit,¡± I said, and Tony smiled.


    Our rather long table filled with sycophants, Tony¡¯s main men, and their dance partners.


    Major Blackwood, white-whiskered and round, classified in the first group. As always, in uniform, which I suspected was custom-made well after leaving the service.


    Major Blackwood made his living by being amusing at parties. He then secured invitations to luncheon, dinner, and tea the rest of the year. I imagine this saved him quite a bit of money.


    The Major began regaling the ladies at the far end of the table with a bawdy story from his days in the military.


    ¡°¡­ I had a time when I was shot in the leg when I was in the Army, and I learned to use a cane,¡± he brandished it, ¡°to get around, and began to rely on it for fetching other things near to my bed ¡­ pretty nurses, for example!¡±


    The ladies giggled.


    ¡°The use of a cane is like a habit to me, and I was walking along once ¡­¡±


    Since they were at the other end of the long table, the music was a bit too loud for me to hear him properly. I spent the time watching the orchestra.


    ¡°They play well,¡± Tony said. ¡°I¡¯ll have Michaels send a note of congratulations to the leader.¡± Jacob Michaels was Tony¡¯s manservant, like my Amelia. The idea of servitude is abominable, but few people care what I think.


    ¡°That would be lovely.¡± I drank more of my rum.


    ¡°¡­ why, it wouldn¡¯t have been gentlemanly for me to just let her lie there ¡­¡± Major Blackwood said.


    A fair quality rum, but they served better the year before. Had Roy Spadros taken up economizing as his new hobby?


    ¡°I remember when I was in the military,¡± Major Blackwood said, ¡°the scrapes I got into ¡­¡±


    I wanted a cigarette, but it annoyed Roy when women smoked. I didn¡¯t need to attract his attention tonight.


    ¡°¡­ and we hoisted the horse onto the ROOF!¡±


    Gales of laughter came from the other end of the table. Tony and I grinned at each other.


    When the set finished and the applause died down, the announcer said, ¡°MASTER JOSEPH KERR, AND HIS SISTER, MISS JOSEPHINE KERR.¡±


    I sat, mouth open in shock, my heart beating painfully. I could hardly breathe.


    Joseph Kerr.


    When I saw him on the stair after all those years, I knew he was going to be trouble.


    Dark brown hair, green eyes, golden skin, stylishly and immaculately dressed, his body toned and taut. Sensual as a cat, a large, dangerous cat, exciting and sleek, languid yet fierce.


    Still the most handsome man I have ever seen. He knew he was handsome, and from the rumors, used it to good advantage.


    Arm in arm with his twin, Joseph Kerr acknowledged the applause all the way down the stair. Josephine was as blond as Joe was dark, beautiful, and single. I heard many stories of their exploits over the years. Every young man wanted her; every young woman wanted him.


    Josie refused every man who asked for her hand, a source of constant discussion and speculation. As far as I knew, Joe never asked anyone for her hand since the night we last met. This sparked less controversy and more speculation as to who would tame him. No one ever asked my opinion, for which I felt grateful.


    I watched Joseph and Josephine Kerr descend the stairs. The unmarried set gathered around them, laughing and talking.


    Joseph Kerr was only a year older than I, yet had a reputation as a gambler, a womanizer, a dandy. Some accused him of worse. But most people defamed the Kerrs since they lost control of Bridges four generations ago.


    A waiter approached, so I finished my drink and exchanged the empty glass for a glass of champagne on his tray. Tony took a glass too, and asked the waiter to bring some for the whole table.


    Tony stood, addressing his men. ¡°This has been a good year for the Spadros Family, and it¡¯s because of you. To greater success in the New Year.¡±


    I paused, remembering a magical night long ago, then smiled up at Tony. This time, it was genuine, the smile of a woman who adored her man, a woman in love. Tony, confident in his triumph, gave me the same smile in return. If I thought about it too long, it might break my heart.


    In my whole life up to then, I had only loved one man. I had given my whole heart to this man, my very soul, if you (unlike most) should think I owned one.


    ¡°To greater success in the New Year,¡± the rest of the table said, and sipped at their glasses.


    That man ¡­


    ¡­ was Joseph Kerr.


    The champagne tasted bitter, but I drank my glass dry.

 Chapter 1: The Jacq of Spades - Round 2: The Ball (part 2)

    I went to the Spadros Ladies¡¯ Room just off the ballroom and found Amelia to get another smoke.


    ¡°Are you enjoying yourself?¡± Amelia said.


    ¡°Certainly.¡± I sat and let Amelia light my cigarette, while the attendants fussed with my gown and hair.


    Why was Joseph Kerr here, now, tonight, of all nights? Where had he been all these years? Why had he never sent one word? I took a drag, and tried to blow away the melancholy in smoke.


    The wind blew chill beside Benjamin Kerr¡¯s statue, broken upon the ground. Burns and ax-marks and hateful words decorated it.


    Joe stared at the ruin. ¡°My ancestor.¡± He surveyed the shattered plaza. ¡°One day this place could be good, like he made it. No more cold, no more rags.¡± He took my hands in his. ¡°I love you, Jacqui. I want you by me when all this is set right. Will you have me?¡±


    ¡°I will.¡± I kissed his hands. ¡°But how can I? I¡¯m to marry his boy.¡±


    Joe turned away. ¡°My daddy¡¯s old man has money, I seen it. We can go on the zeppelin, far from here. Just think, Jacqui ¡­ we¡¯ll be free.¡±


    That was six years ago. I believed Joe, and gave him all a girl had to give a man.


    That night, my mother woke me. She put me into a carriage with people I had never met, to live with people who had only disdain for me.


    Roy Spadros said if I set foot in the Spadros portion of the Pot again, he would burn Ma¡¯s cathedral with everyone in it.


    I never saw Joe again, until tonight.


    I still loved him.


    I put out the cigarette and went to the door.


    ¡°¡­ smoking again ¡­ shocking behavior ¡­ not sure why the Family puts up with it ¡­ what do you expect from a Pot rag ¡­?¡±


    I opened the door; a few old biddies stood along the wall. One hushed the other, but I strolled to the closest table as if I heard nothing.


    A handsome, brooding man sang, while the orchestra played a slow song of young love thwarted.


    I listened to the man sing, desperately trying to hold the pain back. A waiter passed with a drink tray, and I took a glass, not caring what it held.


    The music died away, and there was applause.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Jacqui.¡± That beloved voice behind me held true sorrow, but I dared not turn, not even for my dearest friend.


    Jonathan Diamond walked around to face me, and bent to gaze at my down-turned face. ¡°What¡¯s this?¡±


    I brushed at my eyes. ¡°Nothing.¡±


    He took my left hand and kissed it. ¡°You knew this would happen sooner or later. I¡¯m sorry it was tonight.¡± He took a step back, the ever-present small brown velvet bag of vials at his left hip clinking. ¡°You look absolutely beautiful.¡±


    Jonathan Courtenay Diamond was a tall, handsome man of twenty and six. The youngest of the Diamond sons, Jon had an easy air and fine manners, so unlike his father. He wore a forest green tuxedo and a black cravat pinned with his Family¡¯s symbol. His normally tight-coiled hair he wore neatly pressed, parted just right of center. ¡°You look quite dashing, Jon.¡±


    He beamed at me, and I do believe he blushed. ¡°Thank you!¡±


    For some reason, his blush made me feel better. I raised my glass to him and drained it. ¡°I wish I could get drunk and forget everything, like everyone else seems to.¡±


    Jonathan chuckled. ¡°It¡¯s not as fun as it sounds, sweet girl, especially the next morning.¡±


    His tone of voice made me smile, just like always.


    ¡°I wish I could chat, dearest. But I must make the rounds.¡± He winked. ¡°Duty calls.¡±


    I set the empty glass on the table and returned to my seat. Perhaps I could survive this night after all.


    * * *


    After some time, Joseph and Josephine Kerr arrived at our table. We rose to greet them. Joe wore a dark burgundy tuxedo, while Josie wore a burgundy gown trimmed in white. They took dressing alike as a challenge; when we were young, they would do (or steal) anything to match.


    Josephine¡¯s blond curls cascaded down one side of her perfect face beneath a rose-colored half-veil. I took her hand. ¡°The goddess approaches! Radiant, as always.¡±


    She blushed. ¡°You look lovely, too, Mrs. Spadros,¡± emphasizing my title, ¡°And I would love to get the name of your dressmaker!¡±


    ¡°I will have my maid Amelia send you a card.¡±


    ¡°I would be delighted!¡± Josephine clapped her white gloved hands. I thought this played the ingenue a bit too far, considering she was a year older than I.


    Joe took my hand and kissed it, his eyes meeting mine. ¡°Charmed to see you again.¡±


    Oh, my ¡­ he was stunning.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know you were acquainted,¡± Tony said.


    I smiled at him. ¡°Childhood friends.¡±


    Tony paused, puzzlement on his face. ¡°Ah, yes.¡±


    Evidently he had forgotten my past. No one else seemed to.


    Tony shook Joe¡¯s hand. ¡°Then you¡¯re most welcome here.¡±


    The twins beamed at him. Josephine had a gorgeous smile, but Joe¡¯s lit the room. His smile held happiness and freedom, life and contentment, a smile usually only seen in small children.


    No one who smiled like that could ever be false.


    ¡°It¡¯s so grand to be welcomed,¡± Josephine said. ¡°We adore these parties, don¡¯t we, Joe?¡±


    Joe gazed fondly at his sister. ¡°We do.¡± He turned to Tony. ¡°We meet such fascinating people.¡±


    Tony seemed at a loss for words. I took Tony¡¯s arm, heart pounding, and spoke to Joe, trying to keep my tone light. ¡°Is your grandfather well?¡±


    Joe focused on Tony, yet spoke loud enough so anyone could hear. ¡°He¡¯s 87 now. Putters around in his garden, his library. Josie takes care of him these days.¡±


    Tony put his arm around me. ¡°The old have earned relaxing afternoons. I suppose we¡¯ll see those if we live long enough.¡±


    The rest of the table laughed. The twins excused themselves, promising to return once their ¡°duties¡± were through.


    ¡°They seem a pleasant pair,¡± Tony said.


    One of his newer Associates came to the table. Reeking of alcohol, he laughed in derision, his words slurring. ¡°A couple of gods-damned Pot rags, daring to show their faces around decent folk. Shameful.¡±


    Tony frowned. ¡°That will be quite enough.¡±


    All eyes were on me, except for Major Blackwood. ¡°Well, if they¡¯re Pot rags, they¡¯re certainly delightful ones.¡±


    I laughed at the Major¡¯s oblivious cheek. Everyone followed.


    Tony turned to me. ¡°I will have that man gone.¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°I find his honesty refreshing.¡±


    Tony frowned and shook his head. ¡°I won¡¯t have such a man in my service. He insults you, or your friends, he insults me. He insults the Family that raised him up.¡±


    Tony turned to his right-hand man, an imposing fellow they called Sawbuck, and spoke in his ear. Sawbuck stood, whispered to a couple others, then gestured to the new man. They all left.


    This new man would be found floating in the river. He probably wouldn¡¯t even learn why. Such was life in the Business: fast to rise, just as fast to fall.


    Every time Tony did something like this, though, I found it disturbing. ¡°Why should a man die for having an opinion?¡±


    ¡°My men must be devoted to this Family.¡± Tony¡¯s voice was pitched to carry. ¡°All of this Family. If he can¡¯t be loyal there are many others who will.¡±


    It seemed no one wanted to speak first after that.


    After the next song completed and the loudspeaker died away, I said, ¡°I could use some air.¡±


    We moved down a red-carpeted hall to the Spadros train platform. Two of his men, watching everyone and everything but us, followed at a distance. This train entry allowed us private entry to the opera, government areas, and so on.


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Mighty columns held the level above us, with large copper pipes running overhead. We sat at a table in the black and white tiled area. Tony had my cigarettes with him, and he gave me a light. ¡°I apologize for my man¡¯s conduct.¡±


    I waved it away. ¡°I told you, it was nothing.¡±


    ¡°I want nothing more than for you to be happy.¡±


    This surprised me. ¡°That is very kind of you.¡±


    The buzz of the other tables echoed in the platform, the music and loudspeaker faint in the distance.


    ¡°I hope we can someday live without violence.¡± Tony¡¯s voice was tense, as if he were in pain. ¡°My greatest aspiration is to leave our children a peaceful future and a business worthy of respect.¡±


    I had never heard such words from him before.


    ¡°If I show mercy it¡¯s seen as weakness, by both my father and my men. But with each act of cruelty and retribution, I fear I¡¯m signing my death warrant.¡±


    I put my hand on his. Talk of death always brought my situation ¡ª or rather, my probable situation ¡ª to mind. I hoped a paying case presented itself soon.


    The danger to Tony seemed ever-present. Most men in the Business met a violent end. Should Tony die, his estate would revert to his father, Roy Spadros, who would have no further use for me. I would be without protection. It was part of what drove me to go out on a rainy New Year¡¯s Eve to secretly meet a client.


    I took a deep breath and let it out. I had to prepare for when the inevitable occurred. If I became an independent woman of means, I could hire bodyguards until I left the city. I had saved a small amount from my household allowance plus my business over the past few years. But not enough to hire guards or even buy a zeppelin ticket, should the worst come to pass.


    I hoped it never would. While I didn¡¯t love Tony, except perhaps in a platonic manner, I wished no harm upon him.


    Tony stood. ¡°Enough of this. You¡¯re too beautiful for me to spoil the evening with melancholy. Want to return to the party?¡±


    I put out my cigarette. ¡°I would love to.¡±


    Our table had been abandoned. Major Blackwood sat at another table, laughing with a different set of ladies. Tony¡¯s men sat at various other tables with their dance partners.


    We sat at the end of our original table, which held a few Clubb retainers at the other end. The waiter came round, and we ordered more drinks.


    ¡°I fear this will be the last drink for me,¡± Tony said.


    ¡°We have a carriage to take us home.¡±


    ¡°Yes, but I would like to be taken home alive.¡±


    I chuckled, patting his hand. He smiled, face flushed, and pulled my chair closer as we watched the dancers. He put his arm around me and began kissing my ear.


    I found this quite intriguing.


    We had been back about ten minutes when the announcer said: ¡°MASTER JACK ROLAND DIAMOND THE THIRD¡±


    The room went silent. I turned to face the staircase, and my heart was pounding with fear, my mouth dry.


    Black Jack.


    The man in my nightmares since that terrible evening ten years ago descended the stairs, head shaven, dressed in white. His glare cut across the room to settle on me, and my blood froze at the malevolence in his eyes.


    My stomach knotted; my hands began to shake.


    Jack Diamond was Jonathan Diamond¡¯s identical twin, but all similarity stopped at skin level. Where Jonathan was kind, Jack spoke harshly. Jonathan was warm-hearted; Jack, bitter and grasping. Jonathan wore whatever fashion dictated. Jack only wore white, even to the soles of his shoes, no matter what the event or the weather.


    Black Jack was not named so for his black hair and eyes. Nor for his skin, which, like all in the Diamond family, was such a dark brown as to be close to black. He earned this name from childhood for his rages, his cruelty, his mysterious disappearances and the terrible rumors which followed them: girls murdered, men tortured, a head found on a pier.


    All sort of evil was attributed to Black Jack Diamond: whether truth or fiction, few knew. All I know is he promised if he ever laid hands on me, it would be my last painful day.


    And I believed him.


    ¡°I feared he would be here tonight,¡± Jonathan Diamond said.


    Tony stood, shaking hands with a smile. ¡°Jon! How are you?¡±


    ¡°Well enough, but the weather has inflamed my joints. I carry this these days.¡± Jonathan brandished a black walking stick topped with silver.


    How had I not seen his cane before this?


    ¡°My poor benighted brother fears he is forgotten,¡± Jonathan said, compassion in his voice, ¡°so he makes his appearance. I sincerely hope he doesn¡¯t cause you alarm.¡±


    Tony pulled a chair away from the table. ¡°Please join us.¡± So Jonathan sat.


    A waiter came up. ¡°Some wine, sir?¡±


    Jonathan said, ¡°Tea and milk, if you please.¡± Jon never drank alcohol, and I often wondered why.


    By this time, Jack Diamond had descended the stairs and disappeared into the crowd.


    * * *


    I danced several turns with Tony (the first few, rather unsteady on his part) and a few with Lance Clubb while Tony and Jonathan sat talking.


    Though Lance was a year older than I, he seemed younger somehow. Like most this season, he wore a dark brown tuxedo with brass buttons.


    Lance Clubb appeared intrigued at my conversations with Jonathan. During the second set, he asked if he might one day be introduced to Jonathan¡¯s younger sister, Gardena ¡­


    ¡­ who was both beautiful and unmarried.


    After Lance Clubb escorted me to my chair and moved on, I whispered to Tony, ¡°Mystery solved.¡±


    Tony seemed pleased his guess had been correct.


    After sipping wine with Tony (who seemed to have forgotten his earlier words), I took a lively turn with Charles Hart. Although portly and seventy, he was a excellent dancer. Roy had left the room, which was probably why Mr. Hart chose this time to dance with me.


    ¡°You were a good pick for Anthony,¡± Mr. Hart said. ¡°I¡¯m glad you two are happy.¡±


    ¡°Why, Mr. Hart, we¡¯ve been married three years now. Of course, we¡¯re happy.¡±


    ¡°So why no children?¡±


    Turning my head, I glimpsed Jack Diamond across the room watching me. His eyes met mine: I shuddered at the hate in them.


    The music was ending. I felt unsure of how to reply to Mr. Hart. ¡°Is that proper to ask a married woman?¡±


    Mr. Hart roared with laughter; everyone standing nearby turned and stared. Then he put his hand on my bare shoulder. ¡°My dear, you are magnificent. You honestly don¡¯t know. It¡¯s a sincere pleasure to finally get to know you. I hope Anthony realizes what a prize he has.¡±


    ¡°Why thank you, sir.¡± I wondered what he found so funny. At the time, I thought the man was drunk.


    As Charles Hart escorted me to my seat, a shout, then a loud commotion came from behind, drawing ever closer.


    I didn¡¯t turn or give any other sign I heard, but I marked the sound¡¯s passage as we strolled along. When we neared Tony, he stood, gazing past me with concern. I turned to see Jack Diamond storming towards us from halfway across the room. My stomach churned, although I steeled myself not to show it.


    The music, which had begun again, stopped.


    Ten paces away, Jack Diamond struggled to free himself from the men from various Families who restrained him. ¡°Let me go!¡± His voice, deeper than his brother Jonathan¡¯s, carried well.


    Tony said loudly, ¡°Let the man have his say.¡±


    Jack Diamond approached to three paces away. ¡°You may have forgotten, Spadros, but I have not. I will never forget. I will not be ignored, and I will not be mocked. I call vengeance on your house and on the scum you shelter and protect, who murdered my own.¡±


    A brown-haired man I didn¡¯t recognize dashed towards us, shouting urgently. The gunshot echoed down the street; the man collapsed, ten yards away.


    Jack Diamond galloped up bareback on one of his father¡¯s white horses. Rushing to the brown-haired man, he held him in his arms, shocked and disbelieving. Jack¡¯s face crumpled in grief, kneeling in the frozen mud and filth. He laid his head on the man¡¯s chest, sobbing.


    They say though he was cruel and reckless before, that night drove Jack Diamond mad.


    Tony shook his head. ¡°Diamond, this,¡± he waved his hand to encompass the hall, ¡°is neutral territory. Ten years has passed since your man¡¯s death. Has there not been enough suffering?¡± He paused. ¡°Do you really want war between our Families? Is that what you truly desire?¡±


    Jack Diamond hesitated, then took a step forward, pointing at me. It took every ounce of courage I had not to shrink from his approach. I would not give him the satisfaction.


    ¡°I want her father, dead! I want her family to pay for my brother¡¯s murder ¡ª¡±


    ¡°He was not our brother,¡± Jonathan said mildly, standing next to and a bit in front of me.


    ¡°And you ¡ª you drink with his murderers! Look at you! Traitor! Scoundrel!¡± Jack lunged at Jonathan, who took a step back, eyes widening in alarm.


    ¡°No!¡± I felt horrified at the thought of Jack hurting him.


    Tony pulled me out of Jack¡¯s path and advanced upon him. ¡°You dare threaten my wife?¡±


    Joseph Kerr drew Jack away, whispering to him. Jack Diamond¡¯s demeanor changed at once; he smiled and let himself be led off.


    Jack Diamond had quite a different look when his father and five older brothers dragged him from the room.


    I found that most entertaining.


    Tony turned to me, shaken. ¡°Are you all right?¡±


    I nodded, but I felt my voice trembled more than it should. ¡°Perhaps the man has had too much Party Time.¡±


    Party Time: colorless, odorless, tastes like cinnamon sugar. The one thing still illegal in this rat-hole, yet the one thing everyone wants. The fact it¡¯s illegal let us live like kings.


    Jack showed no signs of being on Party Time. Rather, he seemed a coward and a bully. Jack hated my father, who he couldn¡¯t touch, since Roy protected him. So he shouted at me and at his brother. It was shameful; he would never have dared such a display with Roy Spadros in the room.


    The music resumed. I got another drink and leaned back in my chair, trying to calm myself. My hands shook as I drained the glass. I set it down and turned away to hide my stinging eyes.


    ¡°I apologize for my brother¡¯s outburst,¡± Jonathan said. ¡°Thank heavens Joseph Kerr was there to calm him. I wonder what clever words the man found to turn his anger.¡±


    I wondered about this as well.


    How did Jonathan come to meet Joe, or Joe to meet Jack?


    ¡°I owe Master Kerr a debt,¡± Tony said.


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Charles Hart said.


    I forgot the man stood there and witnessed everything.


    I felt embarrassed at him seeing our trials and glad for a chance at hospitality. ¡°Mr. Hart, please join us.¡±


    Charles Hart glanced at Tony, who said, ¡°Yes, please do.¡±


    Mr. Hart sat; a servant brought him some wine.


    ¡°Are you enjoying your evening?¡± Tony said.


    ¡°Come to mention it, yes!¡± Mr. Hart said. ¡°The evening has been most entertaining.¡±


    We laughed, and the thudding of my heart slowed. I thought I might not get another chance to ask, so I did.


    ¡°Sir,¡± I said to Mr. Hart, ¡°forgive me, but this brings to mind something I saw today: a strange stamp on a wall, a silhouette of a dog, all in red. Since your Family¡¯s color is red, I wondered if you had knowledge of it.¡±


    Mr. Hart shook his head, his eyes not meeting mine. ¡°Some childish prank ¡ª think nothing of it.¡±


    Tony turned to one of his main men, a distant cousin who appeared when we seemed to be in danger. ¡°You know anything about this?¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir. It looks like a new gang. We caught a boy the other day putting their marks around, sent him packing with a bit of a beat-down for his ¡ª¡±


    ¡°That will be enough,¡± Tony said. ¡°A lady is present.¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± the man said. ¡°Sorry, sir. My apologies, mum. But ¡­ they call themselves Red Dogs ¡­ or something like that. Mostly slum boys.¡±


    Tony said, ¡°Where did this happen?¡±


    ¡°We caught them around 80th.¡±


    80th street? Those boys were miles from home.


    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t need riffraff marking up my quadrant,¡± Tony said. ¡°Makes the place look bad. Send a couple of Associates to find out who¡¯s behind all this nonsense.¡±


    This made me think of David, suddenly missing from his back stair. Did he get involved with these boys?


    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± the man said, ¡°I¡¯ll have them get one of their stamp cards to show you.¡±


    Tony tucked a curl of hair behind my ear. ¡°Let¡¯s forget this unpleasantness and enjoy our party.¡±


    When Roy Spadros returned to the room, Charles Hart moved to another table, as did Jonathan. I must have danced with every man of note in Bridges before the New Year¡¯s toast and the midnight dinner.


    As we crossed the lofty pale bridge from Market Center to the Spadros quadrant, Tony pulled me close. ¡°The moment I first saw you, I thought you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.¡±


    I remembered his wide innocent eyes as he sat in Roy¡¯s carriage that cold, terrible night, and let him kiss me.


    He was a good kisser.


    Tony was more than a bit drunk, so it didn¡¯t surprise me that when we reached home he asked for his husband¡¯s prerogative.


    The common advice to young women about to wed is ¡°lie back and think of England,¡± a true absurdity during these enlightened days in the New World. But my task was much more pleasant. I thought of Joseph Kerr these many years, remembering those stolen moments in his arms, his too-skillful attentions upon my body. It made me as satisfied with my duty as any husband might wish for.


    This might sound cruel, it might even sound scandalous, but who did it harm? My spouse had his pleasure, and I had mine. We were both content.


    Seeing Joe there ¡­ ahhh, he had grown into a fine figure of a man. Too fine. I wanted more than thoughts. I wanted him, in my arms, in my bed.


    If I had listened to Air and stayed home that terrible winter¡¯s night, I would belong to Joe.


    What would our lives have been like?

 Chapter 1: The Jacq of Spades - Round 3: The Editorial

    The gun went off. The light left my best friend¡¯s beautiful dark eyes. His little body slumped to the ground three feet away, blood pooling around him.


    I struggled, I tried to scream, but no sound came out.


    David Bryce raised his head. ¡°Help me.¡±


    I woke, my face in the pillow, heart pounding.


    The bed lay empty in the pale dawn light. I felt a pang of loneliness, my eyes filling with tears.


    A firm knock at the door.


    I took a deep breath, let it out. ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°Your tea and wash-water, mum.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, just leave it on the table.¡±


    My day footman Honor came in, set the tray on my tea table, and left, without once glancing my direction.


    I pulled the covers over my head. I didn¡¯t want to think of my dream. Did it mean David was dead?


    Some said the dead sent messages to the living; the idea frightened me. If anyone should send a message, why hadn¡¯t Air sent one on his brother¡¯s behalf?


    Air and I were born the same day. We went everywhere together, as far back as I can remember. Air¡¯s real name was Nick, but he could jump much higher and farther than anyone his size should be able to. Joseph Kerr, one of our gang leaders back then, called him the air boy, and the name stuck.


    Amelia had been in to open the curtains. It looked to be another drear, overcast day. Although weary, I got up to wash my face and hands before the water grew cold. Sitting by the window, I sipped my morning tea.


    My room held white furniture trimmed in pastel blue, with pastel blue rugs over gray tiles. Portraits of strangers and landscapes of places I¡¯d never seen hung in pale frames. I hated pale colors, but no one cared what I thought.


    Snow lay in dirty piles, torn up by the feet of horses and servants milling around in the courtyard. The effect was bleak.


    The tea¡¯s bitter taste reminded me of last night¡¯s discussion with Charles Hart. If Charles Hart dared approach me about our childlessness ¡ª why him, and not Molly Spadros? ¡ª then it was already being discussed amongst the Families.


    Three years. I thought I had more time.


    I stared into the clear brown liquid in my teacup, one of the things my mother taught me after that horrible night. She tried her best to protect me, to prepare me for what lay ahead.


    I would have children when I wanted to, not whelping on command like some Spadros broodmare.


    Should I have agreed to find David Bryce?


    The idea of Air¡¯s brother gone missing twisted my heart. But what could I do? Even if I took the case, I had no idea where to look for the boy.


    The morgue might seem a reasonable place to begin, but I had no connections there. A woman inquiring after a child¡¯s body might alarm the inspectors, who might contact the police, who would want to speak with her. I couldn¡¯t risk that sort of attention.


    I felt sure the Red Dog stamp on the wall was a clue. Perhaps if I learned about this gang it would help.


    Amelia entered with my provisional tray: ¡°regular¡± tea and toast, jam and butter, newspaper and mail. ¡°Did you sleep well?¡±


    I thought of my nightmare. At least I hadn¡¯t screamed and wakened the household, like most nights. ¡°Well enough. We were up later than usual.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I suppose we all were. My little ones were so excited by the fireworks they did not want to go to sleep!¡± Amelia and her husband Peter¡¯s three children, two girls and a boy, helped Peter in the stables.


    I smiled, picturing their bright eager faces. ¡°Amelia, how did you and Peter come to Spadros Manor?¡±


    She turned away and chuckled, but it seemed forced. ¡°Ah, that would be a long story, mum, and I need to prepare your bath, or you won¡¯t be dressed in time for breakfast.¡±


    What favors must these people give to earn such high positions? I shook my head and turned to the paper.


    NEW YEAR¡¯S DAY, 1899, the Bridges Daily screamed. Flattering and appropriate photos from the night before graced the front. The articles spoke of the color of a dress, the hairstyle, the cut of a suit.


    People hungered for diversion. The Families encouraged this attention to the frivolous. It distracted from real questions, like why they struggled to survive while we feasted.


    The paper mentioned minor incidents in the Clubb quadrant: horse-tack cut, shops egged, windows broken. With each event, the police found a Red Dog stamp on a wall or card afterward. While most gangs kept their activity to the slums, these incidents in the fair parts of Clubb had been occurring for some time.


    The Clubb merchants demanded ¡°something be done,¡± and the Mayor promised increased patrols. The article called these incidents pranks, but a brave reporter printed an editorial:


    Year End Violence A Symptom


    An Editorial By Thrace Pike


    Once again the year ends with malicious acts towards the betters of this city. One might point out that merchants are of a lesser class, just as most readers of the news. However, to the majority who shiver in their homes, Yuletide feasts consisting of bread and soup ¡ª and a thin soup at that ¡ª the fat merchants strolling among them must incite dismay, if not anger.


    And why should the merchants not charge? They have fees to pay, just as do those they sell to. We all have fees to pay, but to those hanging at the bottom rung, these fees are a lead weight threatening to pull them to the utter desolation of the Pot.


    These acts of anger are symptoms of a greater ill. Perhaps it is time to make changes to the current state of affairs before the illness becomes serious.


    Those who couldn¡¯t be bought ¡­ fascinating.


    Amelia came in with a package. ¡°Rocket already sniffed it, never fear.¡±


    Rocket was a black pit bull terrier, the best bomb sniffer dog in Bridges. He could smell when you had fired a gun hours before, and would bark.


    ¡°I found some things in your coat. I¡¯ll put them in your study.¡±


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    ¡°Thank you, Amelia.¡± People often passed notes, flowers, or trinkets to others at the Ball, and this year was no exception.


    I knew what the package was before I opened it: today¡¯s Golden Bridges, the local tabloid. Its byline read, ¡°Fuck the Fairy Tales, Get the Real Story.¡±


    One of my contacts sent me a copy when she could get one: they sold thousands of copies within hours of publication.


    Their lead story:


    Mad Jack Rampage At Ball


    The notorious Jack Diamond was at it again: shouting at the Spadros heir in the Grand Ball. Why? Who knows why ¡®Black Jack¡¯ does something, or his next target? Our inside reporter caught a glimpse of the scene as he followed the Diamond men dragging the culprit from the Ball: ¡®Master Diamond flailed, offering excuses as he struggled to free himself from the wrath of his father and brothers, who suffered embarrassment at his antic. Unamused, they stuffed him into a carriage forthwith.¡¯ Perhaps Master Jack will refrain from intemperance next time, but we doubt it.


    I laughed aloud.


    ¡°Why do you read such trash?¡± Amelia said.


    ¡°I must know what people are saying. The Bridges Daily tells me what the Family Patriarchs want people to say.¡± I passed over a detailed account of the gang wars raging through the slums and came across this:


    Ball Happenings: An Inside Look


    We sit with our inside reporter, who gives us the scoop on the real news.


    GB: What tidbits did you glean from the night¡¯s events?


    IR: Other than Jack Diamond¡¯s outburst? The Grand Ball was another spectacle of indulgence. The jewelry and beading worn by the ladies alone could carpet the room.


    GB: It¡¯s interesting you mention Jack Diamond. Was this his first Grand Ball?


    IR: Indeed. I felt impressed with the restraint of Mr. Anthony Spadros, who had partaken quite a bit of wine prior to Master Diamond¡¯s display. Not to mention Jack had the effrontery to threaten violence.


    GB: Restraint in a Spadros? This is an unexpected development.


    IR: He¡¯s always been an unusual one; we¡¯re noting his progress. I did see a bit of kissing the wife, but you can¡¯t fault a man for that.


    GB: Well, if I was married to Mrs. Spadros, I¡¯d dare the scandal of a public display too.


    Really! Shaking my head, I set the paper aside. ¡°Amelia, do we have any callers scheduled?¡±


    ¡°On New Year¡¯s Day? I don¡¯t believe so, mum. Oh, wait ¡­ when Mr. Anthony took his tray just now, out on the veranda ¡­ the poor man, he had the bottle of salicylate with him ¡­ he told Michaels you and he were calling on the Kerrs for luncheon.¡±


    When did he arrange that?


    Tony took Joe¡¯s assistance more seriously than I thought.


    This would be interesting ¡­


    * * *


    Bathe, dress, hair done, then downstairs for morning prayers with the staff. Tony insisted on doing this daily.


    It reminded me of the one unbroken stained glass window in Ma¡¯s cathedral. Beautiful ladies walked in flowing gowns, Card symbols surrounding them.


    We never did prayers in the cathedral. We might be the Dealers¡¯ daughters, but the knowledge they held passed long ago.


    The flat area still remained where the Dealers laid their Cards before the Bad Times. Our elders held a reverence for that place, and never allowed us to play on it.


    After prayers, Tony and I went up to a full sideboard in our breakfast sun-room at the back corner of the house. I looked forward to this time: Monsieur made the most excellent sausage, and I loved the view of the gardens. After breakfast, we then went to the morning meeting, back downstairs in the staff room.


    Spadros Manor was shaped like a U. The parlor and entry lay on the right arm, the breakfast room and dining hall on the left. Our study rooms lay between, our quarters and guest rooms on the second floor.


    To go to the staff room, you left the breakfast sun-room, went through our dining hall, into the preparation room beyond.


    At the far left of this room was a door to a small stockroom, which led to the stables and a stair down to Amelia¡¯s quarters. At the far right, sliding double doors opened on a stair wide enough for men carrying platters to pass each other.


    A hallway just as wide lay at the bottom of the stair, running underneath the entire far end of the courtyard. Copper pipes ran along the ceiling. The first door to the right led to the kitchens.


    To the left, portraits of the staff hung above white cabinets. Vents on the floor and ceiling allowed warm air to pass through. Wide openings above a counter to the right allowed platters to be handed to the waiters.


    The staff room lay past the kitchens, also to the right. At the far end of the hall were quarters for our butler Pearson and his family, and a stair up to the parlor area.


    The staff room was white, with two long black tables, one for the men and boys, the other for the women and girls. Two doors at the back of the room led to the unmarried men¡¯s and women¡¯s quarters. Another door to the far right led to a stair which went up to the courtyard. To the right, a large dumbwaiter transported crates or large items in need of repair. Windows high up along the wall to the right let in light and air.


    To the left hung rows of bells and levers, marked for each room of the house. At present, the levers pointed down, but when we rung, they pointed up, showing what room the bell rang from.


    Tony didn¡¯t attend the morning meeting that day. Writing his end-of-the-year accounts always took him much of the morning. So I stood in front of the staff to give their orders for the day¡¯s work, Pearson standing beside me to my right.


    ¡°As we will be calling on Mr. Polansky Kerr for luncheon,¡± this produced murmurs and glances which made Pearson frown, ¡°you may spend the holiday with your families.¡±


    Essential personnel ¡ª Amelia and Michaels ¡ª would remain on duty until we left. Pearson, as our butler, was always on duty. The rest of the staff would be free until time to prepare dinner.


    ¡°I ¡ª but not Mr. Spadros ¡ª will be ¡®at home¡¯ until noon should anyone call, and we should be back for tea. I shall message if we are delayed.¡±


    ¡°Very good, mum,¡± Pearson said.


    John Pearson, an impeccably dressed man with thinning brown hair, came with the Manor when Tony and I married. A wedding gift, if you could consider a man and his family as such. I met Pearson the first day I entered Spadros Manor as a child, and his presence always made me feel more secure.


    ¡°Pearson is a most proper butler,¡± Molly Spadros once said, ¡°as was his father before him.¡±


    Meals were on time and well made, the Manor kept spotless, and not so much as a nickel was ever found missing. Pearson¡¯s wife Jane ran the kitchens, his daughter worked as a maid, and his sons waited table and did repairs.


    Of course, the fear of your body being found in the river one morning should you trespass is a great motivator. But there was something steady and discreet about the man, making his post a natural position for him.


    The clock struck half past ten. I went to my study through the stairs to my right, which led up to the parlor.


    The small stack of items from the Ball lay in a basket on a white table by the window. I sat at my desk, the only item of furniture truly mine: dark cherry with brass handles.


    I wanted to know more about the Red Dogs, and Jacqueline Spadros couldn¡¯t do that sort of inquiry. Thus letters to my contacts, short and coded, were often the way I worked.


    To my contact in the Clubb desk at the Bridges Daily:


    Dear Mr. Blackberry ¡ª


    Your help with any news about a lost pup. Red-haired, goes by the name of ¡°Card.¡± Last seen in the shop area.


    Any information richly rewarded.


    Yours, Miss Pamela Cavendish


    And another to my contact at the employment office:


    Dear Mrs. Stake (whose name was actually Miss Stack, but there was no one else at the office with a similar name) ¡ª


    Background information on a Mr. Reddington, deals in business stamps and cards. Claims multiple residences. Prior business selling exotic dogs. Known associates appreciated.


    In Gratitude, Mr. Jack Split


    And so on.


    The clock struck eleven as I handed the letters to Pearson. ¡°Would you bring in some bourbon?¡±


    He had a slight hesitation before saying, ¡°Of course, mum.¡±


    ¡°And my cigarettes, please.¡±


    He returned in a few moments with both, and lit a cigarette for me.


    I drank a couple glasses while I smoked and read the Bridges Daily editorial section once again. I thought I might like to talk with this reporter, Thrace Pike.


    Why speak with this annoyance?


    He interested me. I wanted to meet the man, to hear his thoughts. Did he truly want to overthrow the current regime, or was he unaware of the implications of his work? Did he pose a threat, or was he a rash young man destined to meet a shower of bullets in an alley? I wasn¡¯t sure, and I needed to learn if he was an ally or an enemy before whatever he planned affected my life.

 Chapter 1: The Jacq of Spades - Round 4: The Visit

    Dirty snow lay beside the road on the way to the Kerr residence. Mist drifted through the trees, even though the sun stood at high noon, a pale ball behind the clouds.


    The Spadros quadrant was the southeast of the city. The Hart quadrant, where Mr. Kerr lived, was the northwest. So we rode through Spadros quadrant, across the bridge to Market Center, then over the bridge to Hart. Thorny hedges, wrought iron, and patrolling guards kept the reality of the Pot and slums from view.


    The Kerr twins and I grew up together. I felt glad to see both of them again, for very different reasons. But they reminded me of my home and all I had lost. ¡°I have never been to Mr. Kerr¡¯s home. Is it far?¡±


    Tony said, ¡°Just in the fair part of Hart ¡­ not too far.¡±


    ¡°How fortunate for Mr. Kerr that he was moved to the Hart lands.¡± Why Hart, when Mr. Kerr lived the majority of his life in the Spadros portion of the Pot? No one entered a Family¡¯s area from their Pot without paying a steep price. It was unheard of for one Family to take another¡¯s Pot rag. Was this the insult which caused Roy Spadros to hate Charles Hart so? That seemed excessive even for Roy. But I did wonder what great boon Mr. Kerr gave the Harts in exchange for such a release.


    ¡°Mr. Kerr has done well,¡± Tony said. ¡°An old man shouldn¡¯t have to languish in the Pot, especially one with such a distinguished heritage.¡±


    I stared at Tony. Did he mock the Kerrs? He seemed sincere.


    Anthony Spadros: so different from his father at times, and at other times, very like. He could be ruthless, and also kind; vicious, yet also gentle. I often didn¡¯t understand Tony, or why he did what he did. Even his words the night before didn¡¯t fully explain his actions.


    ¡°Why did you marry me?¡±


    Tony took my hand in his and kissed it. ¡°Because I love you.¡±


    His answer, while on the surface, fine, bordered on madness. No one in Tony¡¯s position married for love.


    Why did Roy Spadros agree to it, nay, encourage it? I was no grand lady; I was a nobody ¡ª worse, a Pot rag, an untouchable, raised in a brothel, trained as a whore.


    Most people in the Pot grew up in a brothel. And yes, Ma taught me the work. But she never let me do any, even when men asked for me. At the time, it made me unhappy, because I felt different than the other girls. She said the Masked Man wouldn¡¯t like it.


    Who was the Masked Man? Some whispered he was a quadrant money-man. I never learned his identity until much later, but even as a small girl I knew he was important.


    I remembered the way I saw him as a child. Capable, larger than life, his dark cloak and clean scent billowed into the room ahead of him. His brown leather mask showed light skin around warm blue eyes. The way the Masked Man moved said don¡¯t test me, and no one ever did.


    When I was young, I hoped the Masked Man was my daddy. He treated me kindly, and took an interest in me. I liked when he came to see us.


    The whole situation puzzled me. I didn¡¯t understand why he hid his face, why he visited, why he took such interest in me. Yet many years later, here I sat, married to the second most powerful man in Bridges, riding in a carriage fit for a queen, pulled by the finest carriage-horses in the land. Perhaps this was what the Masked Man intended.


    I felt Tony watching me. If anything, he was attentive. ¡°You don¡¯t mind going out on a holiday?¡±


    ¡°Not at all. It gives the staff a day of rest.¡±


    He let go of my hand and turned to the window. ¡°You are too kind to them, Jacqui ¡­ you think too much of them. You must be careful, or they will take advantage. They are your servants, not your friends.¡±


    ¡°Look, she fancy,¡± Poignee said as I passed.


    I felt appalled. ¡°What did you say?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t put on them airs. You damn lucky but you a Pot rag, same as us.¡±


    Treysa and Ottilie snickered.


    ¡°I understand.¡± I did understand. It didn¡¯t stop me from treating them as people. I don¡¯t think Tony saw them that way.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯re glad to see your playmates again after all these years,¡± he said. ¡°I was allowed very few.¡±


    I stared at him, mouth open, and grasped his hand. I had forgotten about his older brother, the true Spadros heir, poisoned when Tony was two. No one spoke of the child, and I had never even learned his name.


    ¡°Ten was the only one my father allowed near me.¡± Tony smiled, as if thinking of pleasant times long ago.


    ¡°Ten?¡±


    ¡°Ten Hogan ¡­ Sawbuck.¡±


    I stared at him until I remembered the imposing fellow at the ball, Tony¡¯s ¡°right hand man.¡± In truth, I saw the man very seldom. ¡°Oh, yes, of course.¡±


    ¡°Everyone called him Sawbuck ¡­ we had another cousin Ten, and everyone confused them. He¡¯s my mother¡¯s sister¡¯s son.¡± He paused, then laughed. ¡°I suppose no one ever told you!¡±


    ¡°I knew you were related, of course, but not in what way.¡± Sawbuck looked nothing like Molly; I wondered what his parents were like.


    ¡°From the first time Ten learned about my brother, oh, I was two or three so he must have been eight, or perhaps nine ¡­ when he heard of it, he said he would watch over me, that he would never let anyone hurt me. He has kept his word.¡± Tony leaned his arm on the window¡¯s edge, and leaned his face on his hand. ¡°It¡¯s still strange that he calls me ¡®sir,¡¯ even now, but my father would have nothing else.¡± He stared out of the window.


    How odd the situation must feel. ¡°It sounds lonely.¡±


    Tony smiled, and shook his head. ¡°It''s of no consequence.¡± He squeezed my hand. ¡°We''re safe, and so shall our children be. I''ll make sure of that.¡±


    I leaned back, glad for my morning tea, as dangerous as it might be if anyone learned of it. I would never bring children to a world where they might become targets for an assassin.


    * * *


    Hart quadrant¡¯s streets and sidewalks were made of closely laid red brick, with curbs painted white. Joseph and Josephine Kerr greeted our carriage. Josephine wore a pale blue morning dress and a gray shawl. Joe wore a gray blazer and vest, with navy blue pinstriped pants.


    I think.


    I couldn¡¯t tear myself away from his eyes.


    But then Joe shook Tony¡¯s hand, and I remembered others were present.


    Joe cleared his throat, color rising in his cheeks. ¡°Would you like a tour? Our home isn¡¯t grand as yours, but it¡¯s sufficient.¡±


    The Kerr¡¯s row house sat on the corner, made of brown stone. It had white molding around the archway and polished wrought-iron railings. Wood paneling and tile graced the front hall. The housekeeper, a middle-aged lady, met us at the door: Marja, my kitchen maid Ottilie¡¯s mother. She nodded her head to me.


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    Joe asked, ¡°Is Mr. Kerr ready for visitors?¡±


    ¡°Aye,¡± the woman said, ¡°he¡¯s in the parlor. I¡¯ve set a fire for you. Luncheon will be ready in a bit.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Marja.¡± Josie turned to me and Tony. ¡°Grampa is a bit gruff, but he means well.¡±


    Tony and I smiled at each other, used to Roy and his rages.


    I had never met the Kerrs¡¯ grandfather. He took the twins in after I went to Spadros Manor that final time: they called it ¡°finishing.¡± This was training on how to live where people wore clean clothes, took baths, and ate with something other than their fingers, when they ate at all.


    I found my finishing painful and confusing. I can¡¯t imagine what it was like for them, having never set foot outside the Pot until then.


    From Joe¡¯s description, I expected Polansky Kerr IV to be a gray, frail man wearing a robe and slippers. I felt pleasantly surprised to meet a ruddy, well-groomed gentleman. Mr. Kerr kissed my hand and chatted with us without so much as a cane to lean on. ¡°My grandchildren speak of you often, Mrs. Spadros, so I feel as if I know you already.¡±


    I wondered where the gruffness Josie spoke of was. But then even Roy seldom raged in front of company when first met. I smiled at Mr. Kerr. ¡°I hope to make actual acquaintance.¡±


    Marja came in. ¡°Luncheon is served, sir.¡±


    ¡°Come,¡± Joe said, ¡°we don¡¯t have a chef as you must, but Marja¡¯s cooking is quite good.¡±


    Mr. Kerr took my arm, Tony took Josie¡¯s, and we went into the dining room.


    Joe was right; the food was quite good, the meal and wine, light and flavorful. But Joe spoke truth on another matter. The china, while antique, was mismatched and chipped. The house was small, old, and in need of a decorator¡¯s touch. Some of the silverware had been bent and imperfectly straightened. The table cloth was threadbare in spots. Not grand as ours, but sufficient.


    Tony took a drink of wine, leaning back in his chair and spoke to the twins. ¡°Congratulations on attending the Grand Ball.¡± He turned to Mr. Kerr. ¡°You must be very proud.¡±


    Mr. Kerr smiled. ¡°Why, thank you. I¡¯m much indebted to Mr. Charles Hart for his generous invitation.¡± He paused. ¡°I hope it¡¯s a sign of greater things to come.¡± He became animated, moving his arms as he spoke. ¡°My grandfather told me many times of when he was a boy, how beautiful the city used to be, how Benjamin Kerr raised the dome and sunk the pilings, lo these 500 years ago. The gardens, the bridges of gold, the buildings ¡­ a magnificent creation it was then.¡± His lined face became that of a man transfixed with the wonder of his vision. ¡°One day the Kerr family is going to ¡ª¡±


    Josie spoke brightly. ¡°Would anyone like another glass?¡±


    That was interesting. I raised my empty cup.


    Mr. Kerr chuckled, untroubled by Josie¡¯s interruption. ¡°You were right, Joe, she¡¯s had four already and not a sign of it on her.¡±


    Joe leaned back in his chair. ¡°And I¡¯d wager she had quite a bit more before she arrived.¡±


    Tony¡¯s face darkened. ¡°What are you insinuating¡­?¡±


    Joe leaned forward, a brief look of panic on his face. ¡°Nothing at all, I assure you! Please forgive me. I am truly sorry to have given offense.¡±


    Tony relaxed. ¡°Her taste for strong drink has been commented on in the past, and not in a good way. I would have no stain on her honor.¡±


    Well, that was kind of him. I was sure I would hear about it on the way home, though.


    Josephine laughed. ¡°One time when we were small, a truck full of vodka tipped, and we stole several of the bottles¡­.¡±


    A loud screeching noise a few blocks away, then the shriek of grating metal and a crash of breaking glass. Us Lowballs hid, glancing around in case a rival gang got past the watchers and High Cards. A minute later, Joe dashed up laughing, brown hair dark with sweat, carrying a crate of liquor bottles filled with clear liquid. Josie followed behind, lugging her own crate.


    ¡°Full proof it was, and most of us couldn¡¯t drink more than a swallow. It burned so! But Jacqui drank half a bottle straight down, before the police came and we had to run. She didn¡¯t so much as stumble the rest of the night, and she couldn¡¯t have been more than nine!¡±


    I was thirsty. I loved the warmth in my chest as I drank. I felt more alive.


    Tony turned to me, mouth open, and I grinned at him. ¡°I liked the taste. In any case, Josie exaggerates. I was twelve, and already large for my age.¡±


    I could hardly forget the night Air died.


    Tony took my hand. ¡°I have worried that she had some ailment or sorrow to cause her to drink so.¡±


    I felt bitter; he didn¡¯t understand anything. Trying not to snort in amusement, I put my hand on his and smiled.


    Joe did not smile. ¡°How admirable. And how happy you look. We must take a stroll among the roses. It¡¯s been so unseasonably warm that some are still in bloom. The snow dusted on them looks quite charming.¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes!¡± Josie said. ¡°Grampa, will you stroll with us?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    I took Tony¡¯s arm as we strolled in the small garden, bounded by a wall of brown stone topped with wrought iron. The sky was overcast and no snow fell; whatever snow might have been on the roses had melted. The roses were pretty, if wilted from the chill.


    Strolling in the Kerr¡¯s garden seemed fine enough, but I couldn¡¯t avoid Joe¡¯s comment.


    Was I happy?


    I had no reason not to be. My husband was not harsh, or brutal, or even unkind. As far as I could tell ¡ª not that I cared one way or the other ¡ª he was even faithful. I had every comfort imaginable and time for diversion of my choosing, such as the people I helped as an investigator.


    Most of the cases were petty: navigating the maze of bureaucracy at Market Center, following a man suspected of infidelity. Helping those in the Pot and the slums around it helped me feel less disloyal for leaving them to shiver in the cold while I slept in luxury.


    But every move I made, even to drink a glass of wine, shouted my strangeness in this world. And to be so near to Joe again was utterly intoxicating.


    He and Josie chatted arm in arm, and I felt a sharp twinge of jealousy, yearning to feel Joe¡¯s touch on me again. I recalled the last time we kissed, the way he smelled, the promises he made, the way he touched my body ¡­


    We completed our circuit and approached the back stair. I stumbled on the rough walkway, but Tony caught me.


    ¡°Your face is flushed,¡± Joe said. ¡°Are you warm enough?¡±


    I felt embarrassed. ¡°Quite.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps we should go inside,¡± Tony said.


    Mr. Kerr said, ¡°Would you like to visit my library?¡±


    Books lined the walls to the ceiling, with a movable ladder to fetch the upper ones. The furniture was leather, or mahogany with brass handles on the drawers. The pieces looked worn, as did the reddish-brown carpeting. A well-worn mahogany and ivory-colored chess set stood on a small table in the corner, along with two chairs.


    Mr. Kerr had come into some money, but long ago.


    While Mr. Kerr showed off his books, Josie and I sat in the window seat, and she showed me her drawings, which she kept in a portfolio. ¡°This portrait of your father is exceptional.¡±


    Josie smiled. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    ¡°Is your father well?¡±


    Josie shrugged. ¡°I assume he¡¯s drunk as usual.¡±


    Ely Kerr suffered serious bouts of melancholy. They say this worsened after his lover Josephine died giving birth to their twins.


    A dim alley, the smell of alcohol, sitting next to a weeping blond man. ¡°He hates me, Jacqui. My daddy hates me.¡±


    I felt surprised at the memory. How old was I? ¡°Josie, may I ask a personal question?¡±


    ¡°Why, Jacqui, you may always ask, whatever you wish.¡±


    I glanced around and lowered my voice. ¡°You are young and beautiful, and your grandfather is well. Why are you unmarried? Could he not arrange something to your liking?¡±


    Josie shook her head. ¡°He has forbidden me to marry. I am being trained to take over his affairs, should he fall ill or pass on.¡± She gazed out of the window. ¡°It¡¯s of no consequence; I¡¯m too busy with my own affairs as it is. Another man¡¯s household would just get in the way.¡± She giggled. ¡°A fine spinster I sound.¡±


    Why her? Joe could take over Mr. Kerr¡¯s business. ¡°You¡¯re the prettiest spinster I¡¯ve ever seen. Are you happy?¡±


    She put her hands in her lap. ¡°Completely. I have useful work, my family around me, and a bright future. I couldn¡¯t be happier!¡±


    Moved by her joy, I grabbed her hands and kissed them, as I did when we were young. ¡°I¡¯m so grateful. I¡¯ve worried about you. It¡¯s good to see you happy and well.¡±


    She smiled, blushing, and pulled her hands gently away, which made me feel she put a distance between us. ¡°It¡¯s gratifying to hear you say so. I¡¯m glad you never forgot me. I¡¯ve missed you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve missed you too.¡± I would have spoken of how lonely the years had been, the hurt of hearing of her but never from her. But those words no longer seemed appropriate.


    Joe, who sat across the room with his leg up on the arm of the overstuffed chair smoking a cigar, rose. ¡°Would you like to see the rest of the house?¡±


    So we toured the house, which was much like what we had seen already. And soon we were on our way outside.


    We made our goodbyes and got in our carriage. As the carriage pulled away, I noticed a man across the street wearing brown. He moved out of view before I saw his face. Had he been watching us?


    I leaned back and closed my eyes, feeling light-headed and weary, glad to be going home.


    The visit seemed different than I thought. Joe was charming, but distant; he hadn¡¯t once smiled during our entire visit. Josie was a talented woman with her own life. And Mr. Kerr was a mystery. The noise of the horses and carriage cut the melancholy ache I felt.


    ¡°Did you enjoy your afternoon?¡±


    I felt startled. ¡°What? Oh, yes, it was lovely. It was good to see my friends after so many years. And their grandfather is an excellent host.¡±


    ¡°Yes, he was. I¡¯m surprised at the poor way he¡¯s spoken of. I don¡¯t understand it.¡± Tony stared out of the window.


    Bitterness rose within me. ¡°I understand very well. People hate those who dare to rise from their ¡®place¡¯ and show they¡¯re as good as those born to wealth and power. Every slight shown to me the last six years has proved that well.¡±


    ¡°Jacqui ¡­¡± Tony said, as if saddened by my tone. ¡°There is a long history of hate for the Kerr family. That I do understand.¡±


    People blamed the Kerrs for allowing the violence which destroyed much of the city, especially the areas which now formed the Pot, which they say used to be beautiful. The Kerr name became a byword, a proverb of what to avoid.


    Yet his grandchildren attended a Grand Ball. Even after being sponsored into the quadrant by the Harts, for Mr. Kerr to climb from the slums to his current place in Bridges society was a monumental achievement. I wondered how he did it.


    ¡°Pity they petitioned Hart rather than Spadros,¡± Tony said. ¡°It would be grand if they lived closer.¡±


    To see Joe every day, to run into him at the shops?


    It would be torture.

 Chapter 1: The Jacq of Spades - Round 5: The Attack

    When we returned to Spadros Manor, several of Tony¡¯s men waited on the steps, porch, and walkway. They straightened, focusing on us when we arrived. After we alighted from the carriage, Sawbuck spoke to Tony privately.


    I did see some of Molly Spadros in Sawbuck, perhaps around the eyes.


    Tony turned to me. ¡°I¡¯ll tend to this and meet you inside, in perhaps an hour.¡±


    So I went to my study, read my mail ¡ª well wishes for the holiday ¡ª and after, I practiced my piano.


    Roy and Molly Spadros gave us the grand piano on our wedding day. I was not good at playing, nor did I particularly like to. But apparently it would be a slight on the Family honor for Mrs. Jacqueline Spadros to be asked to perform yet unable. No one had ever asked me to play, so I wasn¡¯t sure how this all mattered so. But I practiced anyway. I did seem to be making progress, considering five years before I had never seen a piano.


    While I played, I considered how my relationship with Tony had changed these past ten years.


    Once Roy Spadros moved my father from the Pot to the slums, my life changed forever. I didn¡¯t go anywhere. But no matter how much I hid, a different set of men grabbed me at random times, dragging me to Spadros Manor as I screamed in terror.


    Different scullery maids stripped, bathed, and dressed me each time. Then they locked me in a room with Tony as I wept in humiliation or raged at having to endure this strange, quiet boy. There we sat until time for whatever torment, lesson, or amusement Roy planned for us.


    Over the years, we went (on my part) from sullen resignation to our state of marriage.


    I was not unhappy. I just ¡­ existed. I realized I was no longer sullen: I had simply become resigned.


    The thought made me sad.


    Tea-time came and went. After tea, I dozed for a while on the sofa in my study, waking in darkness, disoriented and weary. The light from the street-lamp created a golden stripe on the far wall. Where was Tony?


    I lit the lamp on the table and picked up the basket of items Amelia found in my pocket after the Grand Ball. An envelope from Jonathan with three pressed daffodils inside: ¡°the sun shines when I''m with you.¡± That made me smile.


    A few calling cards, with invitations to visit written on the back. Then a blank card. I turned it over: a stamp of a red dog, the same dog as on the wall outside David¡¯s home.


    For heavens¡¯ sakes. That man of Tony¡¯s was quick, to have obtained a card before we even left the Ball. Perhaps one of the Associates thought to keep a card to show us. I felt pleased Tony had such intelligent men on his staff.


    I put Jonathan¡¯s flowers on my desk and the stamped card in my drawer, meaning to give it to Tony when he got home.


    A knock on the door. ¡°Time to dress for dinner, mum.¡±


    Upstairs, Amelia helped me into my red crushed taffeta dress, which Tony liked very much but I hadn''t worn for a while.


    We did this every night, even though we had no guests. Roy and Molly insisted on it for so many years it became a habit. They reasoned if we acted as if we had guests, when they did arrive our actions would appear natural from constant use.


    I was putting on my jewels when the front door closed downstairs. Where could they have been?


    Voices argued as Amelia laced my dinner shoes. I stood and examined myself one last time, then went into the hall.


    ¡°I must insist, sir,¡± Pearson said. ¡°I can have the doctor summoned at once.¡±


    The doctor? I crossed to the staircase.


    Tony was being supported by two of his men. Their clothing was dirty, disheveled, and spattered with blood. Sawbuck entered last, facing outside, holstering his revolver once he shut the door.


    I descended the stairs. ¡°Whatever has happened?¡± I grasped Tony¡¯s hand, which felt clammy. ¡°Help him to a chair, and bring an ottoman for his feet.¡± His men did so. ¡°Amelia, bring a basin of water and a cloth. Pearson, summon the doctor.¡±


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    We had stolen a new mechanism from the Clubbs, the Telephonic Telegraph. This machine transmitted sound through wires using electricity, so you could talk to others located far away. It was a marvelous creation; I couldn¡¯t believe the Clubbs had hoarded such a thing.


    Though Roy scoffed at the device, Tony saw the value of it at once. It took months of installing wire under the cobblestones to our private surgeon Dr. Salmon¡¯s office. Now we could summon the doctor at once instead of waiting for a messenger boy.


    We had finished the project just in time. The men were dirty and sweaty, but Tony was pale, his breath coming in short gasps.


    ¡°Where are you injured?¡± I turned to the men. ¡°Was he shot?¡±


    ¡°No, mum.¡± Pain crossed Sawbuck¡¯s face, and I imagined his distress. ¡°But it was an ambush: they carried lead pipes, and he took a solid blow to the ribs.¡±


    I said to Sawbuck, ¡°How did you come to be in an ambush?¡± I spoke to all the men. ¡°Bring chairs and tell me the whole tale.¡±


    Tony¡¯s men turned towards him, and he nodded. They drew up chairs and sat.


    ¡°When you arrived,¡± Sawbuck said, ¡°we gave Mr. Spadros word of a Party Time shipment hijacked. He insisted on seeing the scene of the incident and the route taken.


    ¡°We went to the scene and tended to the injured men and horses. When we returned to the warehouse, the four guards scheduled to be on duty were missing. It was most suspicious.


    ¡°When we entered the building, six men ambushed us. We shot three and the rest fled. They focused the attack on Mr. Spadros in particular.¡±


    I witnessed worse beatings as a child. ¡°Anyone else injured?¡±


    ¡°A few were,¡± Sawbuck said, ¡°but they were taken home to their families. The guards are still missing.¡±


    ¡°See ¡­ that the doctor ¡­ visits the injured,¡± Tony gasped, ¡°at my expense. And not a word to my father.¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir. I¡¯ll tell the men and their families again, in the strongest terms.¡± Sawbuck glanced at me, concern in his face.


    ¡°Don¡¯t speak,¡± I told Tony, ¡°until the doctor has seen to you.¡±


    Tony closed his eyes, grimacing with each breath. I washed his face, loosened his cravat, undid his collar, and combed his hair.


    Dr. Salmon arrived and pronounced Tony¡¯s rib broken. Tony¡¯s men carried him upstairs, then the doctor bathed his right side, which was badly bruised, and strapped his ribs. This seemed to ease the pain. The doctor dosed Tony and left a tincture of opium. ¡°Keep him quiet for as long as possible. The less he moves around, the faster it will heal.¡±


    ¡°Doctor, my husband would like his father not to know of this. What shall we say?¡±


    Dr. Salmon thought a moment. ¡°Your husband has had an attack of pleurisy. He will be ill for at least two weeks.¡±


    I handed him a silver dollar. ¡°Thank you for your services.¡±


    Every time I touched a dollar, it reminded me of how I got here. When I was twelve, a Party Time addict named Peedro Sluff said if I washed my face, brushed my hair, and was at the corner of Shill and Snow by ten, I¡¯d get a dollar.


    Before this, I¡¯d never seen a dollar; it was more money than anyone I knew had. So I said okay. Air tried to keep me from going there, truly he did. I should have listened.


    When I stepped into the hall, Sawbuck said, ¡°How is he?¡±


    ¡°He will be well. Tell anyone who asks that he has pleurisy.¡±


    Sawbuck gave a small smile. ¡°I will. Thank you, mum.¡±


    After the men left, I checked on Tony, who slept, then washed my face and returned to my cold meal. ¡°Pearson, please fetch Michaels and Amelia.¡±


    ¡°They''re at dinner, mum.¡±


    ¡°Have them bring their dinners and sit here. I need your help. I don¡¯t want to upset the others by going downstairs.¡±


    The three came up, carrying their meals and drink, and after some hesitation, joined me at the table. Jacob Michaels was young, thin, and had dark hair. Tonight he looked nervous, but he sat, as did Amelia. Amelia¡¯s eyes and nose were red, her face fearful.


    ¡°Pearson, please sit, it is fatiguing to look up at you so.¡± I smiled to soften my words.


    ¡°If you insist, mum.¡±


    I took a deep breath, and let it out. ¡°If anyone asks, Mr. Spadros is stricken with pleurisy ¡ª¡±


    Pearson raised an eyebrow. ¡°Pleurisy?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Mr. Spadros does not wish his father to know of tonight¡¯s dealings until we have some idea as to who the perpetrators were.¡±


    ¡°But,¡± Amelia said, ¡°the men ¡­¡±


    ¡°Sawbuck will see to the men and their families. Pearson, please see to the staff. I would hate to have any further losses due to this.¡±


    Pearson said, ¡°You will have no troubles on that account.¡±


    I smiled, relieved. ¡°I knew I could depend on you. In any case, Mr. Spadros may be unwell for several weeks. If anyone asks about injured men, they were ¡­¡±


    ¡°Dueling?¡± Michaels said.


    ¡°Brawling,¡± Pearson said. ¡°As rough men will.¡±


    ¡°Brawling! Very good. The doctor says Mr. Spadros should keep as quiet as he can. So he''ll need assistance and to have meals brought to him. I think we''ll need to not be at home to callers for at least the next week, but we can see how he fares.¡±


    ¡°That does sound wise, mum,¡± Pearson said. ¡°I¡¯ll notify the bridge guards.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± I took a bite of cold chicken, feeling exhausted. ¡°Michaels, please set up a bell for his room.¡±


    ¡°At once, mum,¡± Michaels said.


    ¡°Please do so quietly.¡±


    Michaels smiled, his face regaining some of its color. ¡°All that is needed is to let down the pull cord and place it within his reach; it''s been there all along.¡±


    Ah. I had no idea of the mechanisms behind a Manor house bell system, even after all these years, only that they connected to the levers in the staff room. Were the cords threaded through the walls somehow?


    ¡°Thank you, Michaels. Please, eat. I''m not in the mood to sit alone after such a day.¡±


    Amelia had been studying me. ¡°So your visit with the Kerrs was acceptable?¡±


    I''d almost forgotten it, with all the trouble. But the way she spoke made me think she was more perceptive than I thought.


    ¡°Perfectly. But ¡­ it was like returning home after being gone for many years. Things change.¡±


    All three nodded, their focus going inward. I felt pleased with myself; my statement would divert her questions for some time.

 Chapter 1: The Jacq of Spades - Round 6: The Attempt

    Every few hours Tony woke in pain. I dosed him with opium then held him as he gasped until the medication took effect.


    It reminded me of Air, a month before he died. We sat on the cold ground by the fence, and I held him as he coughed up blood. Eleanora screamed, long hair flying, banging on the black iron bars with a piece of metal until the lady at the poorhouse called a doctor. I felt sorry for two-year-old David and six-year-old Herbert, who clutched her skirts and cried in terror.


    I couldn¡¯t smoke around Tony: this made him cough. Even with Amelia and Michaels there to assist, I dared not leave him for long. It took several days before Tony was well enough to sit in a chair, so I wasn¡¯t able to venture out as I wished.


    At times, I felt trapped, at other times, close to tears at his suffering. I thought once, gazing at Tony as he slept, perhaps this is what a mother feels for her child.


    We were in a terrible situation, and so sudden.


    A reporter writing an editorial against the Families. Someone forging a note from Madame. Air¡¯s little brother missing. A couple who knew of my business and told others about it. At least one man following me, watching me. The Red Dog stamps. A focused attack on Tony by a group of men. Our guards missing. A shipment hijacked.


    I needed to do something. I often wept in frustration, not knowing what to do to help.


    A fourth-page article in the Golden Bridges appeared: ¡°unidentified bodies in the river, dead several days.¡± Other than that, Tony¡¯s adventure went unnoticed, and we were grateful.


    Roy and Molly Spadros visited shortly after. Since Tony slept, they took me to the far end of the garden for my shooting lesson while Roy questioned me as to how the house fared.


    Roy insisted on holding lessons at least monthly, up until now when Tony was away. I couldn¡¯t see when I would ever need to shoot someone.


    ¡°We¡¯re in the Business, dammit,¡± Roy said the one time I asked. ¡°Someone pulls out a gun, you better defend yourself.¡±


    So I practiced in my morning dress on grass still damp with dew. I fired while lying flat, on both knees, on one knee, standing, one handed, two handed, with my right hand, with my left hand ¡­ I seemed to have some talent for it.


    Roy often shouted or struck the ground beside me, or kicked me, or forced Molly to stand next to the target. The only way I could bring myself to pull the trigger was to focus only on the target. The world became silent; Roy¡¯s curses and blows vanished, Molly disappeared. The target was all I saw.


    I didn¡¯t always hit precisely at first, but I have never once missed a target.


    Roy examined the paper target. ¡°You¡¯re almost as good as Molly.¡± I breathed a sigh of relief once his back turned.


    Molly took my arm as we walked back to the house, while Roy followed several paces behind smoking a cigar. ¡°I¡¯m glad no harm has befallen you. Rumors of an attempt against you came before the Ball.¡±


    ¡°Against me. Me in particular?¡±


    Molly nodded.


    This was startling. ¡°From where? Why did you not say so before this?¡±


    She glanced away. ¡°I don¡¯t know the threat¡¯s exact nature. My husband didn¡¯t wish you to know.¡±


    Perhaps to see what would happen? Roy took a perverse pleasure in harm coming to anyone, but seemed to especially revel in harm coming to me. The protection we received was all for Tony¡¯s benefit. ¡°Well, other than Mr. Spadros being so ill, things have been peaceful.¡± We strolled along, and a bird flew past.


    ¡°I heard you visited the Kerrs last week.¡±


    ¡°Why, yes.¡± I wondered how she heard.


    ¡°How is Mr. Kerr?¡±


    ¡°Quite well. I didn¡¯t know you knew him.¡±


    Molly smiled. ¡°I knew Mr. Kerr when he ran a speakeasy in the Spadros Pot. You¡¯re not the only one born there.¡±


    I stared at her, and she laughed as if my expression were the funniest thing in the world.


    Molly, born in the Pot? Did Roy know? Surely he didn¡¯t know. How did she end up here?


    But then Roy came up beside Molly, and she took his arm. ¡°Darling, let¡¯s see if Jane has a treat for Katherine. She loves it so when you bring her something.¡± Katherine was Tony¡¯s younger sister and very much Daddy¡¯s girl.


    Roy seemed pleased with the idea, and never asked why Molly laughed.


    Ma told me once if you did your job really well, a quadrant-man might make you his mistress. You and your children would never have to work the beds again. She told me she knew a woman who left the Pot that way, sponsored by her Family man and set up with her own shop.


    Being sponsored by a Family and moved into one of the quadrants was the highest achievement for a Pot rag. ¡°Real freedom,¡± Ma called it.


    Had Molly managed to do this? But how? With who? How did she end up married to Roy? For her, the dream seemed to have turned into a nightmare.


    We later had tea in the parlor. ¡°It¡¯s strange,¡± Roy said, ¡°Anthony was never ill as a child. Did the doctor say why he got pleurisy now?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°I have no idea. The doctor was definite on the diagnosis, though.¡±


    Roy said, ¡°He¡¯s a good one, Dr. Salmon, been in our family since I was a boy.¡± He lit a cigar. ¡°I hear some of the men have been brawling.¡±


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    ¡°Oh? Oh, yes, they ¡­ I don¡¯t know what they were doing. Mr. Spadros was quite stern with them.¡±


    ¡°Heh.¡± Roy blew a smoke ring into the air.


    ¡°Sir, I would like your advice on a matter.¡± That tack seemed best to take with one so mercurial as he.


    Roy leaned forward. ¡°Go on.¡±


    ¡°I read in the paper last week some were unhappy with the current state of affairs ¡­¡±


    Roy scowled.


    ¡°¡­ and it occurred to me that a novel way to silence such talk would be to attack the issue head on. With your permission, I would like to invite this wayward reporter to discuss the benefits our house bestows upon the city.¡±


    Roy leaned back, one hand to his chin, and crossed one leg over the other. ¡°It¡¯s risky. Depends on the reporter and what his ideas are. If he¡¯s a crusader, seeing how we live could make him even more set against us.¡±


    I smiled. ¡°But of course, the editor of the Bridges Daily has been the recipient of much of our favor, has he not? A word and anything unpleasant would be sent to the trash can, and we would know this reporter was one we ¡­ couldn¡¯t work with.¡±


    Roy laughed. ¡°Clever girl! Loosen the fangs, so to speak.¡±


    Molly looked at me sideways, as if she guessed what I had in mind, and gave a slight smile.


    * * *


    A few days later I had an awed Thrace Pike seated in my parlor. Mr. Pike was twenty, lean, and dressed in a threadbare dark brown suit which was out of fashion by close to ten years. He had a shock of straw-colored hair and eyes so dark as to appear black. When he appeared at the door, he looked like a crusader, and for a moment I reconsidered my plans.


    I recalled my mother¡¯s skill at turning men to her favor without taking them into her bed. This gave me an idea as to how to gain this reporter¡¯s goodwill and information both. I wished I could see my mother for advice, but Roy¡¯s threats still frightened me. I dared not go to the Spadros section of the Pot to see her, and I didn¡¯t know if she could meet with me without harm befalling her. It seemed Roy¡¯s eyes and ears were everywhere.


    From my contacts I learned Mr. Pike kept a locket with a small portrait of his wife and newborn child in his waist band, given to him by his grandmother. He wore no ring. A pale indentation in his finger suggested he either felt unhappy with his situation or his family had fallen on very hard times. During my tour of our home, rather than admiring the house, he hung on my every word. At the time, I thought, crusader or not, my scheme might still work.


    Amelia remained in the corner with her needlework after bringing us both some tea. I placed my chair so Mr. Pike would be illuminated, yet I would be in shadow.


    The sun broke through the clouds and lit the room, revealing Mr. Pike¡¯s eyes were not black, instead a very dark brown.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry Mr. Spadros is unable to meet with you. Business, you know.¡± I smiled.


    ¡°I understand, ma¡¯am. What sort of business does Mr. Spadros engage in?¡±


    ¡°Managing these estates is enough work for any gentleman, don¡¯t you think? Overseeing the staff, examining the books to make sure none of our holdings is mismanaged, directing repairs of our buildings ¡­¡±


    Tony did all these. He also oversaw the casino and directed the Party Time shipments, but I didn¡¯t think Mr. Pike needed to know that.


    ¡°Yes, I see.¡± Mr. Pike opened his notebook, then hesitated. ¡°May I ask why you wanted to see me?¡±


    ¡°I read your editorial at New Year¡¯s, and I wanted to hear more of your thoughts.¡±


    ¡°Really.¡± He seemed more at ease. ¡°What part of my editorial interested you so?¡±


    ¡°Well ¡­¡± I unwrapped my shawl, placing it aside.


    Before meeting with Mr. Pike, I put on a new corset which matched my skin tone, with a neckline which cut straight across my bosom. I had Amelia lace my corset to enhance my decolletage ¡ª I dared not breathe too deeply, or I might show more than I wished ¡ª and wore a wispy, low-cut bodice covering made of veil material, also in my skin tone.


    This bodice was normally worn over a darker colored corset or bodice at a ball or evening party, but worn straight over the skin-colored corset like this, sitting in relative shadow, it gave the appearance that I wore ¡­ very little. Only intent scrutiny would show the truth.


    And scrutiny was what I desired. I have a sufficiently endowed body for almost any man.


    This combination of clothing ¡ª while perhaps indiscreet ¡ª was perfectly legal wear, even in public. Yet I noticed, as I thought might be the case with a man so newly with child, his eyes were drawn to my body rather than to my actions.


    When he didn¡¯t look away, I knew I had him.


    ¡°¡­ Mr. Pike, you wrote that changes needed to be made ¡ª I believe the quote was, ¡®to the current state of ¡­ affairs.¡¯ What changes do you ¡­ propose?¡±


    Silence does terrible things to a man. It makes him consider his words or makes them fly from his head.


    Mr. Pike said nothing. His mouth hung open; his eyes rested somewhat below mine.


    Very good.


    I chose a necklace for this occasion with a long, thin pendant that dipped between my breasts. After a few moments of silence, I began to toy with my necklace, just to see the effect this produced.


    Dip ¡­ dip ¡­ dip ¡­


    The color rose in his cheeks and his pupils widened. Very good. ¡°Ah, well,¡± he glanced at my necklace, ¡°um, I have considered the recent, um, violence in the area ¡­ due to the, ah,¡± another glance, ¡°recent, um, gang activity.¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes.¡± I felt gratified to see him glance at my necklace again. ¡°Their brazen appearance, out in the open ¡­¡± I took as deep a breath as I dared and let it out. ¡°¡­ it¡¯s intriguing. Could you ¡­ tell me more about them?¡±


    His face turned crimson, and he swallowed, shifting a bit in his seat. This would have the effect of making his trousers much more comfortable than they appeared. ¡°Well, um, ma¡¯am, um ¡­ there are always so many.¡±


    He then grimaced a bit. I didn¡¯t believe the man¡¯s face could turn any redder, but it did.


    This was highly entertaining.


    ¡°Um,¡± he said, ¡°uh, the most recent ones ¡­ um, the police are calling Red Dogs, because of the stamps found on walls or on cards, um, such as you might use for calling.¡±


    I nodded, and began playing with my necklace again. ¡°What do the police know of these scoundrels?¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± he said, not looking at me, the color subsiding from his cheeks, and I realized he had found a topic he could focus on safely, ¡°they are all young, some as young as 12 or 14, uh,¡± he glanced briefly at my necklace, and his face reddened again, ¡°mum, but, uh, apparently led by older boys who direct their actions. A lesser gang, to be sure, but they are causing a great deal of mischief at present.¡±


    ¡°These older boys. What do the police know of them?¡±


    ¡°Very little.¡± He stared at the wall behind me. ¡°The smaller ones call them aces, that¡¯s all I know. Two chips and an ace is what the boys say, and the chips just do what the ace tells them.¡±


    ¡°This is what I don¡¯t understand: what changes should we make to improve the situation? The Spadros Family provides employment, shelter, food, clothing, and safety for our whole quadrant. Would you take these benefits away merely because some children misbehave?¡±


    Thrace Pike blinked, realizing he had been caught. ¡°Perhaps I wrote hastily, madam. Of course I wouldn¡¯t want the city to suffer. But ¡­ surely you agree that the conditions in the poorer areas ¡ª when people see the opulence of the Families ¡ª could lead to a certain dissatisfaction and what you call ¡®misbehavior¡¯ in our younger citizens.¡±


    This wasn¡¯t going the way I wanted it to.


    I had an idea.


    I rose, re-wrapping my shawl to cover myself, and Amelia rose as well. ¡°Then we must do something to help! I invite you to accompany me to our poorer areas so I may donate to the needs of our people. Would you be able to join me, say, next Tuesday at noon, by the charity house outside the Spadros Pot?¡±


    Mr. Pike picked up his overcoat and held it in front of him. ¡°Most certainly,¡± he said, not meeting my eye. ¡°Thank you for your invitation, and your gracious hospitality.¡±


    After he left, Amelia chuckled. ¡°You are a wicked woman, mum. He dare not write anything specific about our meeting today, and there will be little of negativity to write about on Tuesday, unless he is more cynical than he seems.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t sure. He was supposed to leave in a warmer mood towards me ¡­ but he almost seemed angry.


    I hoped I hadn¡¯t made matters worse.

 Chapter 1: The Jacq of Spades - Round 7: The Card

    Tony improved over the next few days and was able work in his study for short periods of time. I remained with him in case he needed anything; he seemed less short of breath when I stayed nearby. His men brought back reports frequently. To my surprise, Tony allowed me in the room while he heard them.


    Jack Diamond, the obvious suspect for the attack, had been confined to his rooms after the fiasco at the Grand Ball. He remained there still, as confirmed by a rather large bribe to one of the maids who did his cleaning.


    Mr. Julius Diamond, furious with his men for not preventing Jack¡¯s outburst at the Ball, shot several and banished the rest to their Party Time manufacturing plant on double shift duty. They were working the night of the attack.


    The family of the man whose execution Tony ordered the night of the Grand Ball seemed as baffled by the attack as anyone. They held valid and confirmed alibis for that night. Even so, Tony sent men to ¡°encourage¡± them to move from the city, to prevent any ideas of revenge.


    My inquiries about the Red Dogs returned one by one. Most were of little use, but one described a ¡°chip¡±: a young man of about fourteen, blond, blue eyes, thin face, missing the small finger of his right hand. He was last seen in the Spadros quadrant outside the Pot placing a Red Dogs card at the scene of a crime, and the police wanted him.


    * * *


    The Spadros slums was a place for the desperately poor. But at least the slums had the protection of their Family. The Pot was on its own when the bullets flew.


    On Tuesday, I went to the poorhouse to give out charity. I brought several of my maids, some Spadros ladies (mainly wives of Tony¡¯s upper level men), and a carriage-truck laden with food and drink.


    The scene appeared quite different on this side of the fence.


    Though the sun stood high, fog still lingered, and the air was chill. Forlorn-looking men loitered near a broken steam-pipe warming themselves. Others stared at us as we passed, hoping for a handout, or perhaps a third job. Women sat on the curb holding pale crying babies. Children a bit older with drawn, hungry eyes swept the cracked sidewalks in front of their ramshackle homes.


    For all their suffering, they would have insisted they were better off than in the Pot. I remembered women across the fence calling us whores, as if providing for your children by the sweat of your brow was a foul thing, while their own children starved. They only offered us scorn, and I never gave them any of Ma¡¯s bread. After I was taken from the Pot, it haunted me, wondering if their children had survived.


    Air¡¯s head came to my shoulder, and he panted, trying to keep up. ¡°Jacqui, please, let¡¯s go home. I¡¯ll get you a dollar another way.¡±


    I stopped and faced him. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with you? You coughed blood! With a dollar you could get medicine and get better.¡±


    Air stared at me. ¡°Some sell little kids.¡±


    ¡°So?¡± People bought little kids by the hour in Ma¡¯s place every night. Except me. I feared I wasn¡¯t good enough.


    ¡°Not for that.¡± Air¡¯s lower lip quivered, and tears filled his eyes. ¡°They take them away. To hurt bad. To kill.¡± He coughed. ¡°I don¡¯t want anything bad to happen to you, Jacqui. I would rather die.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be careful.¡± I didn¡¯t want Air to think I was scared, so I didn¡¯t stop. But I walked slower.


    Air scanned the ground until he found a broken bottle. He held the bottle in his small fist as if planning to use it.


    The carriages stopped and we all alighted. A crowd gathered, quiet but eager to see what we had brought them.


    To my surprise, instead of Thrace Pike, Mr. Durak, the editor of the Bridges Daily, arrived with several camera-men.


    Mr. Acol Durak was a man of middle years, brown of hair and skin, with some white at the temples, wearing a dark brown suit. Solid, all business, and did his job ¡ª to make sure the Spadros Family was never put in an unacceptable light ¡ª for which he was well paid.


    Although his appearance at this event was puzzling, he was a pleasant enough man, and I was not unhappy to see him. ¡°What brings you here?¡±


    ¡°Had no choice,¡± Mr. Durak said. ¡°Pike told me about this, seemed ready to cover the story. Found his resignation letter on my desk this morning.¡±


    ¡°How very odd. Did the letter explain why?¡±


    ¡°I quote: he ¡®couldn¡¯t do his proper duty under the current circumstances.¡¯ It seemed a most vague and unsatisfactory letter. He will be getting no recommendation from me, wherever he chooses to go.¡±


    I smiled at him, but the whole situation felt unsettling. ¡°Well, Mr. Durak, I¡¯m glad you¡¯re here.¡± I turned to my ladies. ¡°Let¡¯s get to work.¡±


    The charity day went very well. While my maids packed the empty baskets, the ladies took photos with the poor children for the paper. I used the time to stroll through the crowds with the last of the sandwiches in my pocket.


    I noticed a young man off to the side who fit the description of the Red Dogs member. I walked over, and he hid.


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    ¡°I¡¯d like to give you a sandwich. No one will harm you.¡± A blond head peeked around the corner, and I gestured him over. ¡°I won¡¯t hurt you. What¡¯s your name?¡±


    ¡°Stephen.¡±


    Stephen had lost the baby fat around his face that David still had, and gained height. Yet he didn¡¯t have the strong build and heavy beard of a man. I handed him the sandwich, and he immediately began chewing.


    ¡°How did you lose that finger?¡±


    ¡°Caught in machinery at the mill,¡± he said with his mouth full, and shrugged. ¡°Don¡¯t hurt no more.¡±


    ¡°Do you know someone who wants a half dollar?¡±


    Stephen¡¯s face brightened. ¡°Me, miss.¡±


    ¡°Meet me at the train station at eleven tomorrow. I¡¯ll be near the bag area, dressed all in black with a veil, and a purple handkerchief on my parasol. Understand?¡±


    ¡°Yes, miss. All in black, purple kerchief.¡±


    I smiled. ¡°See you tomorrow.¡±


    * * *


    Tony felt well enough to join me during luncheon, which encouraged me no end. Perhaps now I could get some work done.


    I sat in my study after luncheon, drinking a few glasses of bourbon while planning our quarterly dinner party for Queen¡¯s Day, a month hence. A party which fell on a holiday required early notice if we wanted our guests to attend.


    Pearson knocked on the door; Master Joseph Kerr and Miss Josephine Kerr had come to call.


    ¡°Splendid,¡± I said, not feeling at all so. Joe¡¯s name stirred up a mix of emotions I felt unready to handle. ¡°Please inform Mr. Spadros and ask where he would like to greet them.¡±


    ¡°Yes, mum,¡± Pearson said.


    I poured another glass of bourbon and drank it.


    A few moments later Pearson returned, saying that the pair awaited us in the parlor. Tony stood in the hall behind Pearson, his face pale, and I went to him.


    ¡°Make no mention of my condition,¡± Tony whispered.


    Surely we could trust the Kerrs? ¡°But ¡ª¡±


    ¡°Not a word, or I¡¯ll have Pearson send them away. Understand?¡±


    I didn¡¯t understand, but something in his face and tone said he would have no argument. So I nodded, and we went to the parlor together.


    ¡°Welcome,¡± Tony said. The twins stood to greet us, both wearing navy blue and white. They had removed their coats, and Joe his hat, but Josie still wore her bonnet.


    Tony shook Joe¡¯s hand, wincing so slightly perhaps only I noticed it, and kissed Josephine¡¯s hand, while Joe glanced at Tony then kissed my hand in a perfunctory manner.


    We all sat, Tony holding firmly to my arm. Joe appeared perfectly relaxed. Josie sat in a stiff manner, as if sensing something wrong and not understanding it.


    ¡°To what do we owe the honor of your visit?¡± Tony said.


    ¡°We wished to return the great favor you bestowed on us when you visited our home,¡± Josie said. ¡°We have not had callers in some time.¡±


    Tony smiled. ¡°Friends of Mrs. Spadros are friends of mine. I hope we¡¯ll see more of each other in the future.¡±


    ¡°Why, thank you,¡± Joe said.


    A housemaid came in with tea, set the tray down, and carefully poured four cups of tea. We watched her in silence. She then began to hand the cups to us, beginning with Josie.


    ¡°I owe you a debt for your handling of the situation at the Grand Ball,¡± Tony said.


    Joe accepted a cup from the maid. ¡°It was nothing.¡± He took a sip of his tea. ¡°Master Diamond is easily distracted. I merely told him there were ladies who wished to make his acquaintance.¡±


    I laughed, sure Joe said no such thing.


    First of all, Black Jack had never shown the slightest interest in women, either in my sight or from any rumor. From the way Jack reacted, it was clear Joe said some other thing entirely.


    I felt bitter. ¡°You are most skilled with words.¡±


    Everyone stared at me, including the maid.


    Tony said, ¡°He certainly is.¡±


    What was wrong with me? I acted like a love-addled girl. Joe came calling on a duty visit, nothing more. He had not spoken to me in six years, and then only when forced to; certainly his silence made his feelings plain.


    ¡°I¡¯m sure Mr. and Mrs. Spadros are quite busy.¡± Josephine rose, and so we all rose as well, Tony leaning heavily on my arm. ¡°It has been good to see you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry you can¡¯t stay longer,¡± I said.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Tony said, ¡°please come again.¡±


    We helped them with their coats, saw them to the front door and to their carriage, and away they went. The smell of rain lay in the air.


    Tony said. ¡°What were you thinking? That was quite rude.¡±


    I glanced away, feeling embarrassed at myself.


    ¡°How much have you had to drink?¡±


    Not enough. ¡°I¡¯m fine. I¡¯m sorry I was rude. I¡¯ll write and tell them so.¡±


    ¡°No. If they were offended, it will only remind them of the offense. If they were not, it makes us look weak, and they will have a record of the offense to use against us. Say nothing. If they treat you coldly, apologize in person.¡±


    I nodded, grateful that he had prevented me from making a mistake in this regard.


    The day was overcast and cool, and the street, wet, as if it had rained recently, although I had not heard it. Even though it wasn¡¯t yet tea-time, on this winter¡¯s day, lamps were lit down the street.


    It still seemed strange, this theater, even after seeing it for so many years. But for a ¡°first return visit after a great personage visits you,¡± their part was done perfectly. ¡°Linger no longer than fifteen minutes,¡± said the book. Although their visit was closer to ten minutes, even with their time waiting, than fifteen.


    I hoped they weren¡¯t offended.


    As we turned to go inside, my eye fell on something farther down the stair.


    ¡°What is that?¡± I went down the steps, and stooped to pick it up. A card, stamped with a red dog. The sight made me uneasy.


    Tony frowned. ¡°What is what?¡±


    I peered up and down the street, but saw no one. ¡°Nothing. Some child¡¯s litter.¡±


    ¡°We have servants for that.¡±


    I closed my hand over the card and pretended to throw it away when we got inside. ¡°I should finish planning the dinner party before tea time, if I hurry.¡±


    ¡°Make sure you invite the Kerrs,¡± Tony said.


    ¡°All three?¡±


    ¡°If we have room, yes, all three.¡±


    It was clear he felt snappish. I didn¡¯t blame him; I had embarrassed us both. ¡°See you at tea then.¡±


    He returned to his study, closing the door with a sharp click. I went into my study, shutting the door, and took out the card.


    Like the others, it resembled a business card, stamped with the red dog symbol instead of print. The other side was blank.


    The card felt barely damp. No raindrops lay upon it. The color on the stamp had not bled.


    Someone left the card right before we came outside.


    The Kerr coachmen would have frightened off slum boys who dared to come here, much less leave something on our front steps.


    I studied the card. Why would someone put a Red Dog card on my doorstep? Who would dare to put anything on the doorstep of Spadros Manor?


    Then fear gripped me. I recalled the man outside Madame Biltcliffe¡¯s shop on New Year¡¯s Eve, the one who I felt watched me. I also remembered the man I thought watched us outside Mr. Kerr¡¯s home. Were they the same man?


    But something disturbed me more. Did David¡¯s kidnapper think I took the case? That I searched for him even now? Had someone followed me, the trail leading them here? I went to the window and peered around the drapery, but could see no one.


    What could I do? If I told Tony I was being followed, I would find myself confined to the house, or followed by Tony¡¯s men everywhere ¡°to keep me safe.¡±


    But if I told no one, and this man caught me ¡­


    I stared at the card, fear and anger colliding. Then I opened my desk drawer to lock it away ¡­ and saw the other one.


    Tony never asked about the other one. His man had been here twice and never mentioned it. Was the kidnapper at the Ball?


    I threw the card in and slammed the drawer shut.


    I would go to the fires of hell before I threw away the morsel of freedom I''d gained because of some scoundrel.

 Chapter 1: The Jacq of Spades - Round 8: The Lie

    The next morning, I pored over the newspaper, searching for clues as to the nature of the Red Dogs.


    Little had happened overnight. There were no ads denouncing us, no editorials seeking new ideals ¡­


    ¡°Anything of interest in the paper today?¡± Amelia said.


    ¡°Nothing noteworthy. Perhaps the villains took the day off.¡±


    Amelia laughed.


    But I would not be deterred. The Red Dog cards were either taunts or attempts at intimidation, and the thought of either infuriated me. I meant to get to the bottom of this.


    At first, the idea of the kidnapper being at the Ball left me bewildered. But I realized there were many men at the Ball besides those announced on the list. Waiters, retainers, cooks, Men¡¯s Room attendants, even the coat-man himself.


    ¡°I read the piece on your charity adventure in the newspaper,¡± Tony said at breakfast. ¡°Father will be pleased.¡±


    This was the longest speech Tony had given since the Kerrs¡¯ visit the day before. ¡°It was most productive.¡±


    ¡°What about the interview? When will it print?¡±


    I shook my head and shrugged. ¡°Never, so far as I know. The man resigned.¡±


    Tony frowned. ¡°For what reason?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Even his editor Mr. Durak could not say. His resignation was sudden and unexpected.¡±


    ¡°Jacqui, what happened? In the interview.¡±


    I glanced at the maid. Tony waved her out of the room. ¡°Come sit with me.¡±


    What should I tell him?


    I moved to sit to his right. ¡°Nothing happened. Amelia sat with us and we had tea. I asked Mr. Pike what he meant by his editorial. We had a short conversation. He mentioned the poor, so I invited him to come with me to dispense charity. He agreed to come but never arrived. Mr. Durak came instead.¡±


    ¡°How odd.¡± After a few moments, Tony resumed eating. ¡°I can only hope the man resigned for reasons that have nothing to do with our family.¡±


    ¡°I apologize for yesterday. You¡¯re right; I drank too much. I didn¡¯t expect them to call ¡­ and I wasn¡¯t myself.¡±


    Tony shook his head and shrugged, telling me not to think of it further.


    I felt relieved. ¡°I thought if they are upset, we should know before the Queen¡¯s Day dinner, to avoid controversy with so many guests present. Might I invite the younger Kerrs to luncheon before then, to make sure all is well?¡±


    Tony nodded. ¡°That¡¯s a good idea.¡±


    * * *


    After the morning meeting, I told Pearson I was going to the dressmaker¡¯s and would be home for luncheon.


    Madame Biltcliffe¡¯s storefront had beveled glass and polished cedar under wide eaves. Perfectly dressed and coiffed mannequins stood in the window around an empty chair made of oak trimmed in brass.


    A large placard on the chair read:


    Currently Engaged By


    Mrs. Anthony Spadros


    For Her Spring Gown


    If anything, Madame Biltcliffe excelled at salesmanship.


    My day footman Honor took my hand to help me out of the carriage, and yes, I thanked him. Society etiquette be damned. I detested the notion that I must ignore a man¡¯s assistance.


    Honor nodded without expression and closed the door.


    Madame Biltcliffe made the dress I was visiting her for weeks ago, a green silk shantung gown and jacket with black cording, quite intricate. All it needed was hemming, but fussing with the dress seemed as good an excuse as any to get away. Tony had no idea what making dresses entailed or how long one should take.


    Being the dressmaker to Mrs. Anthony Spadros brought Madame Biltcliffe a good deal of business. So our arrangement to use her maid as a decoy was most satisfactory.


    As a ¡°shop maid,¡± I could go many places ¡°Mrs. Spadros¡± could not. Besides, it wouldn¡¯t do to have someone peek behind the curtain where I supposedly posed for dress-fitting and find an empty room.


    I changed into Madame Biltcliffe¡¯s deep mourning (with veil) and left through her back door, arriving at the train station at the stroke of eleven.


    The train station was like most - a concrete slab floor with concrete pillars holding a wooden roof. Large clocks adorned the top of every fourth post, while benches of dark wood with black wrought-iron armrests completed the scene. The sky was gray and misty, the sun failing to shine upon the tracks.


    Stephen arrived twenty minutes late, out of breath. I followed him around the corner and we sat at a bench.


    ¡°A man was ¡­ after me,¡± Stephen panted, ¡°had to lose him.¡±


    Fear gripped me, and I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. ¡°What did he look like?¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t get ¡­ a good look ¡­ at his face. He was dressed ¡­ like a gentleman ¡­ all in brown -¡±


    Could it have been the same man?


    ¡°¡­ Didn¡¯t know he was following until ¡­ I went round several corners and he was ¡­ still back behind. Scared me, he did.¡±


    Why would he follow Stephen? Was he there on charity day?


    I peered around me. Several men in brown hurried to their trains, fussed with their luggage, talked with their wives, or entertained their children.


    Surely a gentleman would have been conspicuous down by the Spadros poorhouse? Wouldn¡¯t Mr. Durak, the editor, have noticed a man who didn¡¯t belong in their group?


    I glanced at the clock; I had a short time before I must leave. I took out the half-dollar, and Stephen stared at it. ¡°I¡¯m looking for a boy of twelve that¡¯s gone missing.¡±


    Stephen grabbed the top of his hair with his left hand and stared at the ceiling while his breathing slowed. Then he dropped his arm and faced me. ¡°I don¡¯t know of anyone gone missing. Did he run off?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°I don¡¯t know. All I know is there was a stamp on the wall of a Red Dog -¡±


    The young man stood. ¡°Wasn¡¯t me, miss, I swear!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not blaming you. Here, sit down.¡±


    He didn¡¯t move. A train came into the station and stopped, passengers coming and going around us.


    ¡°Come on, please. Sit. I¡¯m not with the police. I just want to find the boy for his mother.¡±


    ¡°Okay.¡± Stephen sat. ¡°What do you want me to do?¡±


    ¡°I know you¡¯re with the Red Dogs, okay? I don¡¯t care. Do they talk about the boy?¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°Nobody never tells me nothing. Just do this or do that. The ace, he gets word what to do and then he tells us, and we do it. He gives us sweets and a penny each time. The penny helps my Ma a lot. Usually all I do is put the card down, but I just started.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the ace¡¯s name?¡±


    Stephen shrugged. ¡°They call him Clover. He¡¯s older, like eighteen, and he has a patch on his eye.¡±


    ¡°Who tells Clover what to tell you?¡±


    Stephen shrugged. ¡°I dunno. I never seen him, or heard a name. That¡¯s all I know, miss, I swear.¡±


    The chime struck half past eleven.


    I handed him the half-dollar, and he stuffed it in his pocket. ¡°There¡¯s another one if you learn more about the boy. He¡¯s twelve but looks ten, with dark hair and eyes. Name¡¯s David Bryce.¡±


    Stephen nodded gravely. ¡°It¡¯s bad to take little boys.¡± His face twisted in disgust. ¡°Not what we do at all. I¡¯ll help find him.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t take chances. Meet back here in one week, same time. If someone follows you again, go to Madame Biltcliffe¡¯s dress shop on 42nd street. Leave a message for Eunice Ogier with Madame Biltcliffe¡¯s girl Tenni. She looks like me from the back.¡±


    ¡°Okay, Miss Ogier.¡± He smiled. ¡°Thanks.¡±


    I sat a few more minutes then made my way back to Madame¡¯s shop, changed clothes, and went home. I got back with time to spare.


    * * *


    After luncheon, I went to my study to plan out my calling schedule. I couldn¡¯t pretend to go places indefinitely: sooner or later I had to actually call on someone, or people would talk. I opened my calendar and began a list. Who visited and when, who left a card when Tony was hurt, those who had left invitations in my pocket at the Ball ¡­


    A knock at the door. ¡°Come in.¡±


    Inventor Maxim Call entered. I had never seen the man above ground since I came here, nor had he ever addressed me. I curtsied. ¡°To what do I owe the honor of this visit?¡±


    ¡°Come here, girl, I have something to show you.¡±


    Maxim Call was a grizzled old man, wiry and brown, with piercing blue eyes. He was a Spadros cousin, a distant one, but cared little about Family intrigue. Or social niceties, it seemed.


    I followed him into the hall, mystified. Pearson hurried to ring the bell which warned the staff that I came downstairs. The Inventor went through the parlor and down the stairs, then through the kitchens to a door in the far wall. The maids curtsied as we passed.


    The Inventor descended a winding flight of metal steps around a copper pole which felt hot to the touch. At the bottom of the steps was a white hallway, lit with electric bulbs from above. We entered a round room large enough to encompass the entire Spadros Manor, including its front porch, gardens, and stables.


    The high-ceilinged room was warm, smelling of sulfur and sweat. In the center lay an 8-foot tall cylindrical cage which reminded me of lace. A box almost as large sat inside. Pulleys and chains emerged from this, going through the ceiling into tunnels above. Many pipes lined the walls. Vents in the ceiling matched those I remembered seeing on the floors above us.


    The decor was old. The quadrant-folk called it Art Deco-dent, a reminder of the Old Days with its greedy, wicked men. I recalled the damaged grandeur of Ma¡¯s cathedral, the smooth lines of steam automobiles. The mobs called the horseless carriage an offense against nature, and burned the factories that made them.


    But this room teemed with mechanism: copper pipes, brass gears and pistons whirring. Liquids bubbled in glass tubes, and several Apprentices moved about the room.


    ¡°Quit your gawking and come here.¡±


    I blinked, embarrassed. I had indeed been gawking. I went to the Inventor¡¯s side.


    ¡°You know why we¡¯re down here?¡±


    ¡°You ¡­ tend the Magma Steam Generator?¡±


    ¡°Pish, the Generator is two miles below us. Yes, we tend it. But we do much more here.¡± He gestured to include the room, and I turned to look. A man wearing dark goggles used a bright torch on metal, another tinkered underneath a huge weapon.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    I turned back to him. ¡°How may I help you?¡±


    He grinned. ¡°You¡¯re a quick one. I did want to see you about the Generator. Tell me what you know of it.¡±


    Very little, actually. ¡°I know it¡¯s inside the city piling, here, under the house. It seems odd, though. Why did they put the piling here?¡±


    He laughed. ¡°You have it wrong way round.¡± He gestured to an Apprentice, who brought two breathing masks, and we put them on. The mask felt quite confining, and the air close, but the sulfur smell vanished after a few breaths. ¡°Want to see it?¡±


    I nodded, excited at the opportunity. The list could wait.


    Going to the box in the room¡¯s center, the Inventor opened a door in the side of it. It was an automatic hoisting device, large enough to carry people, lit by an electric light above. Once inside, I realized this was another cage, only with a finer mesh.


    The Inventor pressed a button, and we began to move. It felt strange and marvelous to descend into the earth, to see the rock move around us. The temperature rose every minute, oven-like, and I began to sweat.


    ¡°Many pilings anchor the city.¡± His voice came muffled from inside the mask, and it reminded me of the Masked Man. ¡°The one here happened to have a scientific building over it to study the magma. The first Acevedo Spadros captured this building and refurbished it as his home.¡±


    I nodded. It did explain the odd shape.


    ¡°It¡¯s good for you: this building can withstand a bomb blast. Of course, there is a danger, having molten rock in your basement.¡± The cage came to a halt, and he opened the door. A walkway through a large, dark, empty room with an orange glow to our left. Steam curled in the air. ¡°This is as close as we can go.¡±


    We hurried to a door, which he opened, and we entered a small, well-lit room. After he closed the door behind us, he opened another one just ahead. This little room let us view the curling orange steam through thick windows.


    The hole the steam exited seemed vast, many hundreds of feet across. The view was breathtaking.


    The Inventor took off his mask. ¡°The air is good here.¡± Once I took off my mask, he pointed at the orange steam. ¡°The magma is many hundreds of feet below us. We wear special suits to venture further. Water drops to our generator beneath us; the magma¡¯s heat turns the water to steam, which powers the mechanism.¡±


    ¡°So what is the problem?¡±


    ¡°Magma steam is corrosive. The combination of intense heat and corroding effect is destroying the drill tubes and pilings.¡±


    I stared at him in shock. ¡°What can be done?¡±


    ¡°There lies the problem. We don¡¯t know. Eventually, the whole thing will decay until the tubes collapse. The magma will cool and harden, and all will be well. Except that we will have insufficient steam for the Generators, and lose electricity and heat for the city.¡±


    He folded his arms. ¡°Four hundred years our city thrived. The Coup did us in.¡± His voice was wistful. ¡°Thirty years of warfare, without tending the tubes ¡­ and many of those who knew how were lost.¡± He shook his head. ¡°I suppose we must all live in this world our parents made, playing the wretched cards they¡¯ve dealt us. My life has been spent trying to learn how to slow the decay of our tubes, but I fear I will end in failure.¡±


    ¡°Why are you telling me this?¡±


    ¡°If the Spadros drill tubes are failing, the rest of the city¡¯s are as well. We Inventors must be allowed to work together if we have any chance of learning how to stop the process.¡±


    I had a revelation: perhaps this explained the Clubb¡¯s invitation at the Grand Ball. Were they trying to cultivate us as partners? ¡°I still don¡¯t understand. Why tell me this?¡±


    ¡°Roy Spadros will not listen. Your husband doesn¡¯t understand what this will do to our quadrant. You have seen cold and darkness and famine.¡±


    That I had.


    A beautiful fat rat ran by, dark against the fallen pillars, but the snow made the stones too slippery to give chase. Shivering, I felt disappointed at missing the chance to catch it. My stomach rumbled at the thought of finally having meat for dinner.


    ¡°What can I do?¡±


    ¡°Talk with your husband. Beg him to listen. Tell him what it was like for you.¡±


    I could do the first. I wasn¡¯t sure the second would help much, and ¡­ I wasn¡¯t ready for the third. ¡°I will try.¡±


    * * *


    I wasn¡¯t sure how to broach the subject of the Magma Steam Generator. So I said nothing. Tony didn¡¯t speak for most of dinner. ¡°I hear the Inventor brought you downstairs.¡±


    I felt glad he brought it up, but he almost sounded angry. What was wrong? ¡°He did.¡±


    ¡°Horrible place. I won¡¯t have you down there again.¡±


    His words stung. ¡°I enjoyed it there.¡± I loved watching the orange steam as it curled.


    Tony gave a short, bitter laugh. ¡°Did you now. Did he tell you the world was ending, too?¡±


    I felt hurt by Tony¡¯s sarcasm, angry at his disrespect. It wasn¡¯t like him. For all his gruffness, Maxim Call had spoken to me like a person, someone to be respected.


    He looked up. ¡°What¡¯s wrong now?¡±


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t take the words of an Inventor lightly.¡±


    Tony glanced at the servants. ¡°Out.¡±


    They curtsied or bowed, and left.


    ¡°Why would you speak to me that way in front of the staff?¡±


    ¡°I might say the same to you. What I don¡¯t understand is why you would ignore such a threat to the city?¡±


    Tony put down his fork. ¡°What do you want me to do?¡±


    ¡°He wants to be allowed to speak with the other Inventors -¡±


    ¡°These Inventors always want to work together. This. Will. Not. Happen. I will not have other Families stealing our work. ¡°


    ¡°He said he might learn how to fix it if -¡±


    ¡°We have the finest computers in the world. His Apprentice plans a machine to perform the computations of a hundred men. That is what Maxim Call should focus on, not -¡±


    He missed the point entirely! ¡°And how would it work without power?¡±


    Tony brought both fists down so hard his plate and silverware bounced and his water goblet overturned. He sat for a moment, not breathing, his knuckles white, his face down-turned. ¡°I can¡¯t ¡­ take anything more, Jacqui! Please.¡±


    What happened? I had never seen him like this before. Filled with compassion, I ran to him, kneeling beside his chair. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry. Please forgive me.¡± I rose, and Tony leaned on me as I smoothed his hair. ¡°I don¡¯t mean to burden you.¡±


    He put his arm around my hips. ¡°Why did you go down there without an escort?¡± Tony sounded wounded, afraid.


    What did the servants say? ¡°It never occurred to me. Maxim Call is old enough to be my grandfather.¡±


    Tony sighed, closing his eyes. ¡°But the rest are not.¡± Water from his glass soaked the tablecloth, began to drip to the floor. ¡°If you must go down there again, you must go with your maid.¡±


    Amelia would never go down there; she hated small spaces.


    He held my hand against his cheek, staring at the table. ¡°I ¡­ I just want to keep you safe. I won¡¯t have your reputation smeared. I won¡¯t have.¡­¡±


    Won¡¯t have people call me a Pot rag whore.


    Someone inside me wept behind bars of glass. ¡°I understand.¡±


    Later, he lay beside me, fingers interlaced in mine, his shirt off, the covers back. His left side was still horribly bruised, and the look in his eyes seemed to match somehow.


    * * *


    Tony asked me to run the morning meeting without him. When I returned, Tony and his men were in his study, with orders not to be disturbed until tea.


    So I asked Pearson to arrange kitchen inventory. When I saw the three new kitchen maids, I was filled with horror.


    ¡°Hey, you need be giving us more money.¡± Poignee stood in front of me in my study, hands on her hips. Ottilie and Treysa stood beside her. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t want us telling Mr. Spadros about your romp with Joseph Kerr, now, would you?


    I laughed, but I felt uncomfortable. Pearson was right; I should never have hired Pot rags, even if they were my friends once. ¡°A romance at sixteen, with a man I won¡¯t see again? I¡¯ll tell him myself.¡±


    The one girl who wasn¡¯t new said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry about your friends, mum.¡± Her voice held compassion, and remorse.


    ¡°We were friends, until they came here.¡± Then it all changed. Why couldn¡¯t they be content with the bounty they were given? Why did they have to grasp for more?


    I wondered where their bodies lay. And how I would explain Ottilie¡¯s death to Joe¡¯s housekeeper Marja, Ottilie¡¯s mother.


    * * *


    The maids and I were in the middle of the work when Pearson appeared: Mr. Roy Spadros was here to see me.


    ¡°Me?¡±


    ¡°Yes, mum,¡± Pearson said. ¡°He was most insistent.¡±


    The old monster sounded in a foul mood already. I took off my apron, washed my hands, and hurried upstairs.


    When Pearson opened the door to my study, Roy stood by my writing desk rifling through my mail.


    My mind went to the letters I received from my sources, which weren¡¯t often so well coded as mine. Did I destroy them all?


    ¡°May I help you, Mr. Spadros?¡±


    Roy stalked over and glared at Pearson. ¡°Get out.¡±


    The door closed with a click that startled me.


    In his thick hand Roy held a pamphlet, and he shook it at me. ¡°What the hell do you think you¡¯re doing?¡±


    I grasped my hands together to stop their trembling. ¡°Mr. Spadros, if you would tell me what has upset you, I would know how to answer.¡±


    ¡°This.¡± He flung the pamphlet at me, which hit my arm and fell to the floor. He began pacing the room, leaving me to pick the offending paper from the floor.


    Slaves To Debauchery And Fear No Longer!


    Written by Thrace Pike


    I felt stunned. ¡°Pike?¡±


    Inside the vaunted Family Manors, those opulent dens of thieves, lie bags of rottenness that need lancing and soon.


    Men who feed off the suffering of others with their lust for gold while their people starve in the streets, placating their cries for bread with shows of charity to gain the approval of their peers - which the corrupted editors of this foul city¡¯s newspaper are eager to encourage for a fee, and the assurance that they will not be targeted for assassination - these men should be supported no longer.


    Women who flaunt their bodies to inflame righteous men, to distract them from their duties as the keepers of morality in this city, simply for their own perverse amusement ¡­


    I put the pamphlet down, shocked and embarrassed. ¡°This man is mad.¡±


    Roy stalked over to me. ¡°The whole thing stinks of your whorish ineptitude.¡±


    I moved around the chair towards him, appalled. ¡°Surely you don¡¯t think I did anything improper! Our meeting lasted no more than ten minutes. My maid sat in the room the entire time.¡±


    Roy backhanded me across the face with such force that I fell against the chair. My dress ripped at the waist when I hit the chair¡¯s wing. ¡°Shut up, bitch. Your maid told me everything. You¡¯re lucky I don¡¯t kill the both of you.¡± Roy turned and began pacing as I rose, clutching my face. ¡°That man is a Bridger. This is going to get them marching again for sure.¡±


    I leaned against the chair, shocked.


    The Grand Order of Rational Respectability In Bridges: fanatical religious folk. So fanatical that the Grand Order ejected the Bridgers from their organization eighty years ago. Bridgers believed Party Time was the gateway to hell, and used violence to prevent its production or distribution.


    Bridgers weren¡¯t afraid of the Families: killing a Bridger just made the rest angrier. They didn¡¯t take bribes, and wouldn¡¯t respond to blackmail. Once they began, they didn¡¯t stop. We could kill them all, but that gave the Feds just the excuse they needed to come after us.


    ¡°They haven¡¯t realized how much we profit from Party Time,¡± Roy said, ¡°that¡¯s the only thing keeping them from tearing this town apart.¡±


    I had set one of them against the Spadros Family.


    Roy came from across the room and faced me. ¡°All the things I taught you, and you go to the Pot whores for your ideas?¡±


    My mother was a Pot whore. Who else would I look to but my mother? As a child, I watched my mother use the same technique many a time.


    But I failed; my eyes stung with the shame of it. ¡°What do you suggest I do?¡±


    ¡°Fix your face, get your maid settled. I¡¯ll think of something.¡±


    Amelia. I made a quick exit before he changed his mind, taking the pamphlet with me to cover the tear in my dress.


    What had he done?


    I searched the entire upstairs and main floor, except Tony¡¯s study, where the men still met, to no avail. I found Amelia downstairs in her rooms, her hair in disarray, crying in her husband Peter¡¯s arms.


    Chairs and tables were overturned; broken pottery and blood lay on the stone floor. Blood stained the lap of her apron; her brown eyes were red from weeping.


    When she saw me, she began to shake. ¡°He made me tell, mum, I wasn¡¯t going to, I swear, but then,¡± she sobbed, ¡°he cut me ¡­¡± She began to wail, putting her face in Peter¡¯s chest, and he smoothed her hair.


    Their three children, two girls and a boy, peered around the corner with frightened eyes. The oldest and youngest had eyes of brown; the boy¡¯s eyes were light blue.


    Peter said, ¡°If we could leave, we would, but Mr. Roy would follow us, no matter where we went. We thought it would be better here, that Mr. Anthony could protect us. But ¡­¡± He shook his head and turned Amelia away, then looked over his shoulder, anger in his brown eyes. ¡°She is your maid and under your care; you¡¯re supposed to shield her, not put her into harm.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I said, but it felt hollow. I turned to leave.


    Peter said, ¡°Don¡¯t come here uninvited again.¡±


    I took luncheon in my rooms. My hands shook. I tasted blood. My teeth hurt. By the time I ate and put on enough powder to hide the large darkening bruise on my cheek, Roy was gone.


    He cut Amelia.


    I felt caged; I had to go somewhere, anywhere, or else I feared I would go mad. I hid the torn dress and pamphlet in the back of my closets, changed clothes, and found a hat with a pale pink veil which matched well enough to be passable. I told Pearson I was going for a stroll and would be back by tea time.


    The overcast sky matched the gray cobblestones. The remaining bits of dirty snow and horse dung left by the sweepers were melting to gray puddles, just as my life seemed to be melting around me.


    When Roy¡¯s father Acevedo Spadros was murdered by his own men 20 years ago, Roy began a rampage which ended with most of his father¡¯s men and their families tortured to death, down to the smallest child.


    Roy left one alive from each family: tongues torn out, maimed beyond recognition, and dumped in the Pot. As a child, I saw one of those men; Amelia and I had indeed fared well.


    I resolved not to tell Tony of Roy¡¯s attack. It would only upset Tony, and what could he do in any case?


    I needed Roy Spadros to deter Jack Diamond. But when he outlived his usefulness, I would kill Roy myself.


    By the time I returned, a soft rain had begun. Pearson shook my coat out in the hallway before hanging it. ¡°I will have the girls dry it properly.¡±


    As if I hadn¡¯t cut the kitchen inventory short mid-morning. As if my maid wasn¡¯t tortured in her own quarters. What hold did Roy have on Pearson? ¡°Thank you.¡±


    ¡°I had your maids¡¯ rooms cleared to return their effects to their families. They had a number of items from your study, including some letters. I have placed them on your desk.¡±


    Why would they steal letters? ¡°I¡¯m sorry I put you through such trouble. You were right: I should never have brought them.¡±


    ¡°No trouble at all. But it¡¯s my missus you might speak to.¡±


    Poor Jane. She probably never thought she¡¯d have to train Pot rags when she became mistress of the kitchens.


    ¡°Mr. Anthony awaits you in the parlor.¡±


    The room smelled of hot biscuits and honey. Tony smiled when he saw me. ¡°There you are! You must be chilled after your stroll.¡± He paused. ¡°Why do you still wear your hat?¡±


    ¡°Oh. I forgot.¡± What else could I do? I took it off, placed it on the sofa, then turned towards him to sit.


    ¡°By the Shuffler! What happened to your face?¡±


    ¡°Does it look bad?¡±


    Tony sat stunned for a moment. ¡°I can see you¡¯ve powdered it, but your cheek is swollen and red.¡±


    I smiled. ¡°After your father came calling -¡±


    ¡°My father was here?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes, did Pearson not tell you? I told your father you were in a meeting and he left straight-away. But after I saw him to the door, and he got in his carriage and left, an insect lighted on my cheek and I was stung cruelly! It swelled, and for a while I felt ill, so I took luncheon in my room.¡±


    Tony took my hand. ¡°I¡¯m glad you feel better now.¡± He paused. ¡°How odd. A stinging insect in this cold weather.¡±


    ¡°It is odd, almost unbelievable. It was a horrible sharp sting.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll call for the doctor and have the eaves inspected for nests. I won¡¯t let this happen again.¡±


    I went to the looking-glass. ¡°The swelling has subsided somewhat; I think the cold air did it some good.¡±


    Tony¡¯s reflection nodded, his face distorted by the bevel at the edge of the mirror.


    A ridiculous story, but the best I could manage. Yet Tony seemed to want to believe me. He went to the door, told Pearson to call for the doctor, and resumed his seat.


    ¡°How was your meeting?¡±


    He shrugged.


    ¡°Were the guards ever found?¡±


    ¡°No. I fear they¡¯re dead. They were good men, with families ¡­. We¡¯ll find the villains who attacked us, sooner or later.¡±


    Dr. Salmon arrived. Tony stepped outside of the room while the doctor examined my face. ¡°What shall I say happened?¡±


    I told him of Roy¡¯s assault, and the story I had given Tony. He chuckled at that, and said he would corroborate my tale when he next spoke with my husband.


    ¡°Doctor, can anything be done for Mrs. Molly Spadros?¡±


    Dr. Salmon¡¯s face became solemn, and he shook his head. ¡°Only if she wishes to divorce him.¡±


    I shook my head, filled with melancholy. Roy wouldn¡¯t tolerate it; he would kill her before he allowed her to live free.


    He patted my hand. ¡°Don¡¯t fret yourself on her account. She is a much stronger woman than she appears.¡±

 Chapter 1: The Jacq of Spades - Round 9: The Note

    I made the mistake of reading the rest of the pamphlet. It went on for many pages, Thrace Pike describing me so well he all but printed my name. I felt humiliated. I told Tony I felt unwell and spent much of two days in deep melancholy.


    I brought trouble on my Family, offended two of my friends, and three others were dead. A scoundrel followed me, my husband was hurt, Air¡¯s brother was missing, my maid had been tortured. And I could do nothing about any of it.


    A house maid drew my bath while Amelia was ¡°indisposed.¡± I was careful not to let the maid see my midsection. The corset¡¯s boning pushed into me when I fell against the chair after Roy¡¯s attack, leaving a purple mark.


    It would be difficult to blame that on a wasp.


    During this time, a copy of the Golden Bridges arrived, and I almost threw it in the fire. A whole day I feared those men¡¯s biting scorn. But I realized I needed to know what people said, so one day, after Tony left, I opened it.


    As it turned out, there was very little there. The Golden Bridges had a column called, ¡°Hog Scrapple,¡± and halfway down the column, it read:


    GB: Item three ¡ª the pamphlet.


    IR: Methinks our young Bridger protests too much.


    GB: My thoughts exactly. Any ideas as to who he¡¯s talking about?


    IR: Well, Goldie, my boy, I¡¯m always up for a bit of fun, but a night in a torture room isn¡¯t my idea of a good time.


    Perhaps I had done better than I imagined.


    I wondered how Mr. Pike learned about our bribes to his editor. The fact that Mr. Pike¡¯s editorial was published at all seemed surprising, when I considered it.


    The third day, Amelia stormed in and threw open the drapes.


    I squinted at the sudden light. ¡°What¡¯s this?¡±


    Amelia began beating the chair cushions with a vengeance. ¡°I worked too hard and suffered too much to have you take some other maid.¡±


    I sat up. ¡°I didn¡¯t know you were ready to return.¡±


    She faced me. ¡°I will never be ready. But life would be no better somewhere else, and Mr. Roy hurt you as well.¡± She began to cry. ¡°I should have let him kill me.¡±


    ¡°Oh, Amelia.¡± I got up, put on my robe, and went to her, taking her into my arms. ¡°Come, sit here with me.¡± I brought her over and we sat on the side of the bed, although she sat gingerly. ¡°I was wrong to do what I did. I put our whole Family in danger, and I put you at terrible risk.¡± I took her hands. ¡°But I must ask: what exactly did you tell him?¡±


    ¡°I told him about your instructions for the corset, and the events with Mr. Pike.¡± Her eyes widened. ¡°But nothing more, I swear! Only what was asked about that day.¡±


    I sat for a moment, wondering if I could believe her, then nodded. ¡°What time is it?¡±


    ¡°Half past six.¡±


    I chuckled. She must have been brooding about this for hours already. ¡°I must tell you about my dress ¡­¡±


    I lay in bed waiting for my morning tea and listened to Amelia fuss and fume over the great rip in the waist of my dress.


    Amelia would probably never talk to Roy again. But sooner or later, she would talk to someone, given the right incentive. I had to be more discreet.


    When Amelia finished pinning my dress, she said, ¡°Oh! I must fetch your tray!¡± She made a second trip for the newspaper, a package, and my mail.


    Amelia reached in her pocket. ¡°I think this is also yours.¡± Amelia handed me a note addressed to her, but addressed from Madame Biltcliffe¡¯s shop.


    Inside were two notes.


    The first was in Madame Biltcliffe¡¯s hand:


    My dear lady, I found this in my post box and thought it might be for you. If not, I apologize. ¡ª MB


    The second was scrawled on a wrinkled paper:


    To Amelia: I must speak with your mistress on a matter of much urgency.


    I turned the paper over, but there was no indication as to who it might be from. ¡°Perhaps it would be a good day for me to visit the shop. Kindly send a message to Madame Biltcliffe as to which time would be best for me to arrive.¡±


    I opened the Bridges Daily with dread, but there was still no news article about the pamphlet. I wondered if Roy had something to do with that.


    In with my package, which contained a new copy of the Golden Bridges, there was a flyer:


    To-Night!


    Learn The Truth About Party Time!


    Tent Meeting, 9:30 pm


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Market Center Plaza


    All Welcome


    I sighed. So it had begun, just like in the stories. First the tent meetings, then the protests, then the marching, then the storming of buildings thought to house places where Party Time was made or sold, armed with axes.


    Could the attacks on Tony¡¯s men be Bridger work?


    Tony had never considered the Bridgers as suspects, but sent a message to his men when I raised the subject at breakfast. ¡°It¡¯s nice to be back in the Business. I was beginning to feel caged.¡±


    I chuckled. ¡°I can picture you pacing like one of those fabled East Indian tigers, growling.¡± I raised my fingers curled like claws.


    Tony smiled.


    Pearson, standing by the sideboard, raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°I heard an interesting tale yesterday,¡± Tony said. He had been most attentive to me during my melancholy, often telling me amusing tales. I think he felt unhappy with himself for his part in our argument the other day.


    ¡°Oh?¡±


    ¡°Mr. Julius Diamond was displeased with the performance of Master Jack Diamond at the Grand Ball, and threatened to cut off his funds if he causes further trouble.¡±


    I laughed.


    ¡°The truly amusing part: when my father heard about Master Jack¡¯s outburst, he told Mr. Julius Diamond at the Grand Ball that a further insult to any member of our family ¡ª or yours ¡ª from a member of the Diamond Family would be taken as a personal attack on him.¡±


    Roy threatened Julius? ¡°Oh, to be present at that meeting ¡­!¡±


    Tony chuckled, wincing at the end, and the maid giggled. Even Pearson had trouble keeping himself from a small smile, which felt most gratifying.


    After breakfast and the morning meeting (which Tony did attend), I finished my kitchen inventory with the maids and sat with Amelia in the parlor as she mended my torn dress. I pretended to do needlework, but in truth, I pondered the situation at hand.


    The letter was likely from Mrs. Eleanora Bryce. I wondered what calamity had struck for Eleanora to contact me in such a disjointed manner.


    Could this man who followed me and Stephen have frightened her? I should have warned Eleanora when the man in brown began following me. I didn¡¯t think she was in much danger with her son there; Herbert was only sixteen, but tall as a grown man. Surely his presence would deter an attack. Wouldn¡¯t it?


    * * *


    Clouds covered the sky, and the wind blew chill. When I arrived at Madame Biltcliffe¡¯s dress shop, Mrs. Bryce stood outside wearing mourning garb.


    Mrs. Bryce didn¡¯t acknowledge me until I changed into Tenni¡¯s uniform and met her in the back alley. Then she clutched my hand and began to weep. ¡°I¡¯m so grateful you came. I didn¡¯t know who else to call.¡±


    She moved away and I hurried to keep up. Tenni wore a half size shoe smaller than I did; my feet soon began to hurt at the rapid pace.


    We went through an unfamiliar maze of half-lit alleyways, stopping in front of the Spadros quadrant morgue. The building, a sad shade of gray, stood apart, a few mourners holding each other in the street outside.


    Since I played Mrs. Bryce¡¯s maid, I opened the door for her and curtsied as she went in. The room was the same gray, and the attendants wore bone white. The smell of death lay in the air.


    Mrs. Bryce would have told me if David were dead, so I felt puzzled. Not knowing what happened or who died, I waited as she gave her name and information. In a few moments we stood in another room, cold and gray, at the side of a body.


    The attendant lifted the sheet: Herbert Bryce lay on the slab.


    I felt astonished. Not three weeks ago, the young man sat in his mother¡¯s shop, very much alive.


    Mrs. Bryce burst into tears.


    I glanced at the attendant, who left. ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°After your visit,¡± Mrs. Bryce sobbed, ¡°he wondered if he raised money, you would change your mind and find David. He went to our neighbors, but no one would help us. After we saw the story of you feeding the poor in the paper, he said it seemed you had no time for us. The next morning he was gone. The constable contacted me yesterday: they found him in the Diamond slums, dead. Strangled.¡± She stared at his unmoving face, tears streaming down her cheeks.


    Diamond. What was he doing there?


    Then I saw the blue finger-marks on the young man¡¯s neck.


    More people lingered in the intersection than seemed normal for that time of night. A large crowd waited in the alleyways, doorways, and driveways, behind rusted clockwork machinery and broken-out windows, but quiet, hoping to see something happen.


    Roy Spadros and Peedro Sluff stood in that intersection, separated by several yards, facing each other.


    Peedro was a foul-smelling drunken addict, with a temper to match. The wisps of black hair on his balding head were as thin as the rags on his filthy thin body. His glazed eyes told me he had taken a lot of Party Time already.


    Roy Spadros said, ¡°I trust you have what we agreed on.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I do,¡± Peedro Sluff said, in his whiny voice.


    ¡°And where is she?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯ll be here. If not, I can show you where she lives.¡± If anything, though, Peedro¡¯s body tensed even more, as if preparing to act, but afraid to try. He took a deep breath, and his right hand twitched.


    A brown-haired man dashed towards us from the right, several blocks away. Another money-man, but not so old as Roy Spadros, maybe eighteen or so. I liked him at once. A block away, he shouted urgently, but I couldn¡¯t make out the words.


    Peedro Sluff froze uncertainly as the younger man raced towards them. Then Peedro whipped out a revolver from behind his belt and fired, the motion smoother than I could ever have imagined. People shrieked, scurrying behind fallen beams and broken hulks of steam automobiles.


    Something drew me from the alley like a magnet. I should have been frightened, but at the time it felt like a dream. I had seen men shot before. This made no sense; the younger man shouted a warning, not a threat.


    Where did Peedro Sluff get a gun? Where did he learn to shoot?


    Roy¡¯s men dashed up from the street behind him, guns out, but Roy waved them off.


    Peedro Sluff dropped his arm to his side and spoke to Roy Spadros, his breath steaming. ¡°He meant to kill you.¡±


    It didn¡¯t seem that way at all. The man tried to warn someone, yet got shot for it. It seemed so unfair.


    Roy Spadros gave a slight smile, as if he found the whole thing funny. ¡°Then you have my gratitude.¡±


    What a world we lived in. Young men murdered attempting to save a life, their valor used to further a villain¡¯s scheme! Why did Herbert, or that friend of Jack Diamond¡¯s ¡­ why did they have to die? A poor decision, a few minutes haste, a wrong turn down a street, and life disappeared.


    My eyes fell on a card lying on the table near Herbert¡¯s slab, the sort used for business. But instead of a name and location, it had a stamp of a dog on it, all in red, with a note next to it: ¡°Found on the body.¡±


    Would taking the case have prevented this?


    I made the right choice not to take this case. I helped people pay their rent and find their cats. I had no experience in solving a kidnapping. It was a police matter.


    Why would Herbert leave his mother alone? How ¡ª and why ¡ª did he go to Diamond?


    Finding Herbert in the Diamond quadrant did explain why Stephen hadn¡¯t heard of a boy being held. Even if his ¡°ace¡± was as tight-lipped as Stephen said, there should have been some rumor or indication of a young boy held against his will in Spadros.


    Across the river, though, anything might be happening and no one in Spadros would know. Foot traffic wasn¡¯t allowed over the bridges. The river was too cold and fast this time of year to swim. Few uppers had reason to cross into another Family¡¯s territory unless invited. To a lower like Stephen or his ace, Diamond quadrant might as well be another city. ¡°I¡¯m sorry about Herbert. He seemed like a good boy.¡±


    ¡°He just wanted to find his brother. Now they¡¯re both gone.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°I¡¯m sure the police will find David.¡±


    Her eyes never left her son¡¯s body, but her face screamed that she had lost all hope.

 Chapter 1: The Jacq of Spades - Round 10: The Surprise

    When I returned home, Tony, his mother Molly, and his sister Katherine played croquet in the garden. His father Roy sat under a lawn canopy smoking a cigar.


    Why was Roy here? What did he tell Tony?


    A maid stood behind Roy, waiting for orders. Roy¡¯s men watched our surroundings; I imagined they scanned for marksmen. Not that I expected any to appear on the Spadros Manor grounds. But when you had as many enemies as Roy, paranoia became prudent.


    Katherine Spadros was almost thirteen and in that gangling awkward age of intensity and drama. She dropped her mallet and charged, auburn hair flying, to envelop me in a crushing embrace. ¡°Oh, Jacqui, I¡¯m so happy to see you!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m happy to see you as well.¡± When she let go, I took a breath. ¡°Who¡¯s winning?¡±


    ¡°Mama, but I¡¯m second.¡±


    I lowered my voice. ¡°You should let your brother win, since he¡¯s not feeling well.¡±


    Tony winced. ¡°I heard that. I am neither incapacitated nor infirm.¡±


    ¡°Would you like to play?¡± Molly said.


    ¡°She can¡¯t come in the middle!¡± Katherine said. ¡°It¡¯s not fair!¡±


    I chuckled. ¡°I¡¯m content to watch.¡± I took a chair across from Roy, who ignored me, as I did him.


    I was not happy to see Roy. If he had spoken to me right then I might have stabbed him with my boot-knife.


    I asked the maid for brandy, sipping it, trying to forget the throbbing of my face and abdomen. I lit a cigarette and took a drag. When he glanced my way, I blew smoke in his direction, daring him to say anything. He disappointed me. I would have liked an excuse to put my knife in his cold dead eye.


    Tony watched me without expression. I smiled at him.


    As we walked back to the Manor later (Katherine did win after all), Roy spent a moment whispering with one of his men, then walked beside me, grinning.


    ¡°You look pleased.¡± I hoped the villain choked to death on whatever torment he planned.


    Roy chuckled. ¡°You just read the papers tomorrow, Missy ¡­ I¡¯m planning a surprise.¡±


    I recalled the third time I was taken to Spadros Manor, a few months after my father shot Jack¡¯s friend. After bathing, scrubbing, stuffing me into a dress, and this time, a ¡°training corset,¡± which I detested, the maids led me to Roy¡¯s study.


    Roy had said, ¡°I¡¯m planning a surprise ¡­¡± which at the time meant sending Tony on an errand with his mother and taking me in his carriage on a tour of his holdings.


    ¡°How do you like Anthony?¡±


    I''d shrugged. At twelve, I rarely thought about boys one way or the other.


    ¡°When you are grown, you and he will marry. Then you will own all this.¡±


    Oh, I thought at the time, it would be good to own all this. I had no idea what being married meant. No one who lived in the Pot had money to get married.


    Roy seemed in a particularly introspective mood that day. ¡°I fear Anthony doesn¡¯t have it in him to do what it takes to run this Family. But I think you do.¡± He turned to me. ¡°I¡¯ll teach you how to do what I do. If my son needs help, will you help him?¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡± After many beatings, I learned to say this in reply to anything Roy Spadros asked.


    After that, I received two sets of lessons when I went to the Manor, which increased to two or three times a month. One set of lessons took place with Molly and Pearson: reading, writing, painting, needlework, managing a household, doing accounts.


    The other set of lessons was with Roy. Roy taught me to shoot, to kill without a gun, the structure and purposes of the Family Business, strategy, tactics.


    Many times, Tony joined us for the lessons, but not always: Tony had never seen me beaten after the first time, which sent him into hysterics. As far as I know, he had no idea I knew anything about violence. I don¡¯t know what he thought, but Tony never showed any jealousy about his parents teaching me.


    As time went on, I began to feel in two worlds. I returned to the Pot clean and fed, with fine clothes, new knowledge, and new connections. In Spadros Manor, I felt dirty, unwanted, and misunderstood. ¡°Are you going to kill the man?¡±


    Roy laughed. ¡°Don¡¯t even try, Jacq ¡ª you¡¯re out of your depth. Just watch and learn.¡±


    I seethed at his cold, mocking tone.


    Pearson met us at the back door and addressed Tony. ¡°Will your family be staying for dinner, sir?¡±


    Before Tony could answer, Roy said, ¡°No. I have things to do.¡±


    Thank the Floorman. Dinner with Roy was torture in itself.


    Once they left, Tony sighed. ¡°I¡¯m glad they didn¡¯t stay. I exerted myself too much, and Katie hugs much too vigorously.¡± He looked pale. ¡°Would you tell Pearson we¡¯ll be dining in our rooms tonight?¡±


    I took Tony¡¯s arm. ¡°Only my corset saved me a fractured rib from Katherine¡¯s pincer-like embrace.¡±


    ¡°Pincer-like.¡± Tony began to laugh, then winced. ¡°Don¡¯t make me laugh,¡± he said, but a laugh burst from him, ¡°it hurts.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps you need a corset.¡±


    ¡°Ow.¡± Tony laughed again. ¡°Stop.¡±


    ¡°Poor dear.¡± I put on a sober demeanor, ¡°I will be completely grave henceforth.¡±


    He began laughing. ¡°You are utterly wicked.¡± He went from laughing to complaining and back again all the way up the stair.


    I accompanied Tony to his room and got him seated with a book, then returned to tell Pearson of the changes. ¡°And I will need to speak with Amelia after dinner.¡±


    When I returned to our rooms, Tony stood by his dresser, putting the opium bottle away.


    I felt chagrined. ¡°I had no idea you were in such pain.¡±


    ¡°I only took a bit more.¡± He returned to his seat. ¡°I wanted to sit with you up here, instead of going through such fuss as to dress for dinner. We have no one to entertain or impress tonight.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m glad!¡± Since he was left-handed, I sat to his right.


    Honor came in with the tray, set out our dinner, uncovered our plates, and poured our wine. ¡°If it please you, sir, Michaels will be available for the next hour should you need anything. I¡¯ll be going to my mother¡¯s for her birthday.¡± Our night footman would be on duty after that.


    ¡°Send her our blessings,¡± Tony said.


    ¡°Thank you, sir.¡± Honor bowed and left.


    After the door closed, Tony took a drink of his wine as I began to eat, then picked at his food. I was halfway through my meal when he said, ¡°You dislike my father.¡±


    ¡°Dislike is not the word I would use.¡±


    Tony said nothing.


    Rage boiled up. ¡°He is your father, not mine. Nor my husband, nor my kin. Am I required to love him? He stole me from my home ¡­¡± I stopped, coming too close to revealing his attack on me.


    ¡°You hate him.¡± Tony put his fork down. ¡°I hated him once ¡­ long ago.¡­¡± He sighed. ¡°Hate ties you to the one you hate as tightly as love. Far better, if you can¡¯t love, to do neither.¡±


    His words cut me to my heart. I kissed his hand, grieved at the thought of Tony having Roy for a father.


    Tony turned my face to his. ¡°Don¡¯t cry.¡± Pain lay in his voice. ¡°Not for me.¡± He kissed my forehead and smoothed my hair. ¡°I¡¯m well, and we¡¯re safe here. Please. Be happy.¡±


    I blinked my tears away and tried to smile.


    ¡°Forget my father. Let¡¯s enjoy our dinner.¡±


    For a few moments, I forgot everything but the peace of companionship, holding hands with Tony while we ate.


    But then I remembered my evening was far from over.


    Should I go to the tent meeting?


    I needed to. In truth, it shocked me that Mr. Pike published the pamphlet. He must have done it before leaving the newspaper, unless the Bridgers owned a printing press themselves.


    The publication was madness, especially for a man with a wife and child depending on his salary. What good did Mr. Pike think publishing the pamphlet would do, other than fixing the eyes of the four Families upon him?


    Knowing what little I did of Mr. Pike, he probably felt publishing his pamphlet was the right thing to do, no matter what the cost to himself or his family. He was more than likely to end up dead.


    Thrace Pike was too much the crusader, but I wished no harm on him. If Roy planned some hurt to come to the man because of me, I needed to warn him. If not, I had to learn his plans, if only to protect myself.


    When dinner was cleared away, I poured Tony some red wine from the sideboard, putting a drop of opium in his cup. Since his back was to me, he never noticed. I handed him his glass. ¡°To your health.¡± He clinked glasses with mine, smiling, then drank. I leaned over and kissed him. He set the empty cup down and took me into his lap, whereupon we made pleasant use of the time.


    Twenty minutes later, he snored in his chair.


    I''d never heard him snore before. At the time, I thought he must be very tired from his difficult day.


    About then, Amelia arrived, and we got Tony into bed.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°I need to go out tonight.¡±


    Amelia gave me a questioning glance but said nothing.


    I replaced my wedding ring with a plain band from a poorhouse sale. Several carats of jewels seemed too much for one finger, but Tony insisted I have the best. Amelia helped me out of my corset, and I changed into an outfit which buttoned up the front. I only used this outfit when on cases, so no one would recognize me.


    This dress was high necked, of plain cloth and dark brown. I wore a dark brown hat with a thick veil. With the veil, even I couldn¡¯t tell who I was when I looked in the mirror. I used a scarf to cover my hair, and added various bits of padding to change my shape from time to time.


    Leaving off my corset made me appear heavier, shorter, older. It also meant Amelia didn¡¯t have to wait there to help me undress when I returned. I had a pair of shoes that I only used on cases, so even my shoe print wouldn¡¯t give away my identity. ¡°If someone asks, you left me sitting with Mr. Spadros, and he left orders not to be disturbed.¡±


    ¡°Yes, mum.¡± Amelia peeked into the hall. ¡°No one out there.¡±


    I turned off the lamps, went into the hall and closed the door.


    We went through the upstairs storage room, then down the stair by the preparation room. Amelia peered out, then gestured to me. I slipped through the door and into the stables. Dodging the stable boys, I made it to the front of the house.


    The streets were wet and deserted. Soon I found a public taxi-carriage and was on my way to Market Center Plaza.


    * * *


    A large crowd milled about, surrounding men and women hawking their wares. Butchers stood in their booths, cutting meat to sell the next day. Children sold sweets and hot chestnuts from trays round their necks. Cigar smoke and perfume wafted through the air.


    A large white canvas tent stood on the damp grass, the base of the canvas open to the air at about mid-thigh level. Rows of wooden folding chairs faced a dark wooden stage. There some already sat, some stood, but most milled about. A tired baby cried, and his mother comforted him. Thrace Pike and his compatriots spoke together near the front of the stage.


    A bell sounded and people began filling the seats. I took a seat near the back at the end of a row, clutching my dark brown handbag like any other lower-class widow.


    Air and I raced down the grimy, trash-strewn alleyways until we got a couple of blocks away from the cops, then leaned against a wall, laughing. We escaped them again.


    Snow glittered on the ruins of old Bridges: the bombed-out ¡®scrapers and mansions, the fallen statues, the broken fountains.


    Air surveyed the scene, his face full of wonder. ¡°¡®Tis near pretty, here at night.¡±


    I nodded. It would have been prettier if the quadrant-folk hadn¡¯t destroyed it all. ¡°Why they bomb it?¡±


    ¡°Ma said people got mad,¡± Air said. ¡°Rich men ate, they couldn¡¯t.¡±


    I shook my head. People were so stupid. ¡°What¡¯s different between then and now?¡±


    Two to three hundred lower-class people almost filled the tent. A stout young woman wearing a gray dress which made her look like a man in a skirt went to the stage and began speaking about Mr. Pike.


    Mr. Pike¡¯s father and grandfather were in law, but after his father died, he became a reporter. The woman left out the part where he was no longer employed.


    Mr. Pike appeared, to a smattering of applause. ¡°Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming out tonight to hear me speak. I hope to enlighten and inform you of the facts about the illegal drug called Party Time ¡­¡±


    A man up front spoke, and laughter flowed around him.


    ¡°I understand,¡± Mr. Pike continued, a bit louder, ¡°that this drug has been used in Bridges for many generations and in the past was a part of normal social life. However, with the harmful effects that can occur ¡ª¡±


    A man a few rows down from me yelled, ¡°¡ª there ain¡¯t no harm in it! You crazy do-gooders do more harm!¡±


    ¡°¡­ seizures, hallucinations, and even death from overdose ¡­¡±


    An old woman across the room threw her hands in the air. ¡°Garn! You¡¯d have to drink a whole bottle to have all that happen!¡± Laughter broke out in several places in the tent.


    ¡°¡­ myself and others can¡¯t stand by and watch our town brought to destruction by those who lord over us with one hand and drag us down with the other.¡±


    Voices began speaking out from all over:


    ¡°Now, wait just a minute ¡ª¡± a man said.


    ¡°You took away our socializing, now you¡¯re going to take our Families too?¡± another man asked.


    ¡°What will we eat when they¡¯re gone?¡± A woman said. ¡°You gonna give us jobs?¡±


    ¡°My kids are alive now because we have work from the Clubbs,¡± another man said.


    Several people nodded.


    ¡°You¡¯re too young to remember when this city was tore apart by the gangs,¡± an old man said. ¡°The Families beat them back and brought the city peace.¡±


    Several cries of ¡°Yeah!¡± came forth from the crowd.


    A middle-aged man rose. ¡°I know who you are. You¡¯re Bridgers! You and your axes destroyed my Grampa¡¯s saloon when I was a boy, about near killed him. I¡¯ll listen to no more of this!¡± He spat and walked out, to applause. I recognized him; it was the man Roy whispered to at the house this afternoon.


    So that was why Roy felt so pleased with himself.


    Mr. Pike said, ¡°Please ¡­ please just sit and listen to what I have to say ¡­¡±


    But the roar of the crowd made him impossible to hear. An apple knocked his hat off, and Mr. Pike retreated.


    Most people walked out. Some went up front to talk with him (or at him). The woman in the gray dress handed out pamphlets ¡­ which looked suspiciously like the one Roy threw at me.


    I watched the scene for some time. If enough people left, would Mr. Pike speak to the crowd which remained?


    The tent creaked in the wind.


    More people went to the stage than I expected, which was somewhat concerning. Roy was right: I was beyond my understanding in this matter. Killing Mr. Pike, while it would have been easier, would have not only proved his point, but made him a martyr to his cause.


    A fight broke out near the stage and a whistle sounded in the distance. I moved to the side of the tent, not wanting to spend the evening questioned by the police. A constable entered the tent and I ducked underneath the canopy. Whistles and scuffling continued behind me as I stepped around the tent posts.


    Stars shone that winter¡¯s night. My breath left in clouds matching those passing high above the city near the full moon. The landscape resembled a photograph in grays and blacks: dark, yet lovely. The lights of Clubb quadrant twinkled in the distance across the river. A zeppelin passed by, farther still, and I watched its journey. Then I walked further from the tent to lean against an unlit lamp post, taking a cigarette from my handbag.


    </a>


    A voice, from behind. ¡°Light that for you?¡±


    It was Mr. Pike, of all people. I let him light my cigarette, trying my best not to laugh.


    I pitched my voice lower; I was a middle-aged widow. ¡°Thank you, sir.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t pretend.¡± Something in his eyes and voice made me think rather than seeing me, veiled and high-necked, he saw me as I looked at our previous meeting. ¡°When you went under the canopy rather than through the tent door as any usual woman would, I recognized you.¡±


    I stared at him, afraid. ¡°Why are you here?¡± Had he approached to unmask me? To humiliate me further?


    ¡°I could ask the same. Did you want to see how well your little trick worked?¡±


    I felt relieved. ¡°Mr. Pike, I knew nothing of the ¡®trick,¡¯ as you call it; I wanted to hear what you had to say. You may not believe it, but I agree with many of your points.¡± I took a drag of my cigarette through my veil and blew smoke at the uncaring stars. ¡°Unfortunately, we¡¯re not always free to do as we wish.¡±


    Thrace Pike¡¯s face, half-lit by the moon, seemed both resolute and sad. ¡°We¡¯re always free to do what we wish. Either way, there are consequences we can¡¯t escape.¡±


    I could say nothing to that.


    The wind gusted, and my veil blew up, exposing my face. I pulled it down again, securing it better this time.


    ¡°You¡¯re hurt,¡± he said, raising his hand.


    I shrank from his touch. ¡°You were free to publish your pamphlet, as you wished. Either way, there were consequences I couldn¡¯t escape.¡±


    Mr. Pike stood still for a long moment, staring past me, his jaw tight. Then the set of his face changed: he had come to some definite decision. He took hold of my upper arms, which shocked and surprised me so much I did nothing.


    ¡°I will not surrender. If your husband, or your father-in-law, or whoever sent that mob wants war, then war I will give them.¡±


    I stared at him, stunned. ¡°By yourself?¡±


    ¡°If that¡¯s what it takes. I will see this city restored to one where law, not crime families, rule. Where people can move about their city safely, not limited by checkpoints and retribution. Where everyone has an equal say and a man can advance in life with honesty, not crawl in servitude to some trumped-up self-appointed monarchy.¡±


    Could he really mean this? I saw no subterfuge in the man¡¯s eyes. He could publicly humiliate me one day and lay hands on me another, speaking lofty words as he did so, without any guile.


    He gazed into my eyes for a long moment, and he seemed then to realize where he stood and what he did. He let go.


    I turned towards the river, relieved. ¡°Noble, even admirable.¡± The man seemed determined to get himself killed. ¡°But the Families will never allow changes in the way matters stand.¡± I faced him. ¡°You don¡¯t realize how dangerous these men are. If you oppose them, they will destroy you.¡±


    ¡°We shall see.¡± Mr. Pike tipped his hat. ¡°Good night, madam,¡± he said, and walked away.


    * * *


    I made my way home, slipped in the back door by the breakfast room, and up the winding back stairs. I cracked open the door at the top of the stair. To my relief, our night footman wasn¡¯t there. A glow came from around the corner, and I realized the man patrolled the hallway.


    I crept into the darkened hall, opened Tony¡¯s door, and went in. Tony snored in his bed, slowly and loudly, with slight hitches in his breathing, as if something was stuck in his throat. It frightened me: he had never sounded like this before.


    I hurried into my closets, taking off my dress, hat, and shoes in the darkness, listening as Tony snored. I found myself holding my breath, waiting ¡­ waiting ¡­ waiting ¡­


    He wasn¡¯t breathing.


    I ran to the bed in my drawers and chemise, stockings still on. ¡°Tony! Wake up!¡± I shook him, but he didn¡¯t breathe. ¡°Help!¡± I grabbed the bell-cord and pulled it.


    The night footman rushed in. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s not breathing!¡±


    He stood, stunned, then turned to the maids behind him. ¡°Call the doctor!¡± Feet ran down the hall as I continued to shake Tony¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Lift him up,¡± the footman said, so I did so.


    ¡°Tony! Tony!¡± His head sagged forward, his lips dark and bluish. I shook him. ¡°Wake up!¡±


    Maids rushed into the room, screaming and crying. ¡°Get out of here,¡± the footman said. ¡°Give him air.¡±


    Give him air? I leaned over, took a breath, and put my mouth on his, blowing as hard as I could. His chest rose sharply.


    ¡°Uhh.¡± Tony grimaced. ¡°Ohh.¡±


    My vision blurred. ¡°Oh, please, Tony, wake up.¡±


    His head slumped forward again, and the footman helped me sit him up better. ¡°Do that again, breathe to him,¡± the footman said, so I did so, harder.


    ¡°Aaaah!¡± Tony¡¯s chest rose. ¡°Ow!¡± His eyes were closed, and his head lolled, but he took a breath on his own.


    I never felt so grateful to see someone breathe before.


    We held him upright for some time, and I breathed into him when he needed it. ¡°Oh, Tony, please wake up.¡± I didn¡¯t know how much longer I could do this, and it frightened me.


    Shoes came stomping up the stairs, along the hall, as the footman and I held Tony up straighter. He hadn¡¯t breathed again, so I blew in his mouth as hard as I could.


    At the same time, I heard the door open behind me. ¡°What are you doing?¡± Dr. Salmon said.


    ¡°He¡¯s not breathing, Mrs. Spadros is breathing to him. It seems to help,¡± the footman said.


    ¡°Uhh, ah,¡± Tony said.


    ¡°He looks better,¡± I said. His lips were pinker.


    ¡°Dealer preserve us,¡± Dr. Salmon said, shocked. ¡°How much opium did he take?¡±


    Did I do this? I shrugged, mouth open, shaking my head, feeling close to tears.


    The footman said. ¡°Do that breathing again.¡±


    I breathed in until my chest felt ready to burst, grabbed Tony¡¯s face, and blew with all my might.


    ¡°Aaaah! Stop!¡± Tony yelled, and opened his eyes: his pupils were tiny, his eyes full of tears. Their unnatural form terrified me.


    ¡°You weren¡¯t breathing, sir,¡± Dr. Salmon said. I glanced at the doctor; his shirt tails were loose around him, his jacket and vest open, his hair wild, as if he galloped straight here without a hat.


    Tony focused on him. ¡°What?¡± Then his head slumped to the left as his eyes closed.


    ¡°Did he have any alcohol?¡± Dr. Salmon appeared more concerned than I had ever seen him.


    I nodded. ¡°Two glasses of wine that I saw.¡±


    The doctor shook his head. ¡°We need to get him up walking.¡±


    By this time, Pearson had entered the room, dressed, but barefoot, with his hair uncombed. So the footman and Pearson got Tony up, walking him around the room as he snored.


    Pearson glanced at me. ¡°Where is Amelia?¡±


    Now I knew how he kept order. She had been crying in the hall but dashed in.


    ¡°Tend to your mistress at once,¡± Pearson said.


    Amelia stared at me blankly, then grabbed my robe and covered me with it. It was then I realized my state of undress.


    I sat on the side of the bed, my face in my hands. If I had returned five minutes later, Tony would be dead.


    ¡°How long ago did he take the opium?¡± Dr. Salmon said.


    I stared up at him. ¡°Right before dinner.¡± What time was it now? ¡°An hour and a half, maybe two?¡±


    ¡°Dinner was at eight, mum,¡± Pearson said, as he lugged Tony along, who still snored. ¡°It¡¯s well past ten.¡±


    Dr. Salmon shook his head. ¡°Too long ago for an emetic.¡± He went to his bag and took out a device, listening to Tony¡¯s chest for several seconds, then let out a sigh of relief. ¡°His heart is sound. It just needs to work through him.¡± He moved some of the vials around in his bag, then came up with a tiny bottle containing yellow powder.


    I watched as the doctor moved to Tony¡¯s tea table and took out a small set of brass scales. He measured a tiny amount of the yellow powder. He peered at me over his shoulder. ¡°Was his appetite good? What did he eat?¡±


    I stared at Dr. Salmon, not remembering what we ate.


    ¡°We had pork roast,¡± Pearson said. ¡°With winter peas and fatback.¡±


    Dr. Salmon nodded. ¡°The heavy meal saved him.¡±

 Chapter 1: The Jacq of Spades - Round 11: The Threat

    Dr. Salmon dosed Tony with a purgative, yet it was many hours before he felt safe to leave us.


    I couldn¡¯t sleep. I might have killed Tony, and it haunted me.


    The doctor stayed in a guest room, returning every few hours to listen to Tony¡¯s heart. Tony woke with a terrible headache, dreadfully ill, and little memory of the night before.


    ¡°You must never drink alcohol when you take opium,¡± Dr. Salmon said. ¡°I told you this before. And no extra doses. Do you hear me? If your wife hadn¡¯t been awake, you¡¯d be dead now.¡±


    We sat in Tony¡¯s room. Tony, bent over his tea table, leaned on one elbow. He nodded, his face pale and sweaty. But his breathing was normal, as were his eyes. I never wanted to see them look that way again.


    Dr. Salmon got up and paced around the room, stretching his arms over his head. I held a damp washcloth, wiping Tony¡¯s brow.


    A soft knock came at the door, and Dr. Salmon opened it. Michaels came in with a tea tray, and Tony gestured for him to put it on the table.


    Dr. Salmon put his hand on Tony¡¯s shoulder. ¡°The liquids will help, sir. As much as you can drink for the next day or two.¡± He glanced at Michaels. ¡°Get him a pitcher of water.¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡± Michaels poured a cup of tea for each of us then left, while Dr. Salmon went out into the hallway.


    Tony leaned back and sighed. ¡°The last thing I remember is holding your hand at dinner.¡± He gave me a weak smile. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I frightened you.¡±


    I brushed his hair back from his face. ¡°I¡¯m just glad you¡¯re better,¡± I sobbed.


    ¡°Ah, now,¡± he took my hand and kissed it, ¡°all will be well.¡± He took his cup of tea with his other hand and drank it down. ¡°See? I¡¯m obeying orders. Being ill is thirsty work.¡± He smiled. ¡°Let¡¯s see the mail.¡±


    I wiped my face, then took up the stack of Tony¡¯s mail and sorted through them. ¡°Here¡¯s one from your father.¡±


    Tony opened the letter and read through it, scratching his arm from time to time.


    ¡°Hmm. Your wayward reporter, what was his name ¡­ Peak?¡±


    ¡°Thrace Pike.¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes, Pike ¡­ well, Mr. Pike has been outed as a Bridger.¡±


    ¡°Dreadful!¡± Tony expected some reaction, so I gave it. I hoped the mob chased Mr. Pike home.


    ¡°We won¡¯t be having trouble from him for a while.¡±


    ¡°Why is that?¡± I felt grateful that Tony said ¡°a while.¡± Rivers are such a final place to end up.


    ¡°This morning, Mr. Pike asked to be taken on as a law apprentice at his grandfather¡¯s firm and was accepted.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± Mr. Pike was more resourceful than I thought. But if his grandfather wished to apprentice him, why did Mr. Pike become a reporter in the first place?


    Tony began to sweat and looked pained; his stomach was hurting him again. Michaels and I helped him to his feet. ¡°In any case, learning law should keep him out of our hair for a while.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t so sure that this was a hopeful development. Mr. Pike the reporter had to submit his work to an editor, who could quash the story. Mr. Pike the lawyer could become a major threat, and lawyers tended to be more difficult to get rid of.


    * * *


    Stephen never arrived at our next meeting. Although I strolled along the train station bag area for over an hour without seeing anything unusual, I had the feeling I was being watched. So I did what I always did when followed: I went to a bar.


    The Pocket Pair, while disreputable, had an excellent staff, very good food and drink, and an owner more than willing to help a lady in distress, especially if the lady happened to be me.


    V¨ªghareur ¡°Vig¡± Vikenti was a burly fellow, a bouncer until Roy¡¯s men shot the original owner for being late on his protection money. Vig took over the bar, changed its name, got some ¡°working girls¡° in the back rooms, and became an upright, paying member of Spadros society.


    Even twenty years later, a look of displeasure from Vig sent the toughest men backing off in fear. So while it appeared to be the sort of place to avoid, I enjoyed visiting.


    Vig liked me, and not in a fatherly way. But he¡¯d never been crass about it. He kept several girls in my size working the back rooms who were happy to trade dresses for a day or two and discreet enough not to blab.


    I was sixteen and on my first case when Vig saved me from violation and assault, beating the man senseless with his bare fists. Since then, we had been ¡°buddy friends,¡± and he always knew who I was no matter what I wore.


    So when I came in the door, he yelled from behind the bar, ¡°My buddy friend! Come let me give you a drink!¡± The man playing ragtime on the piano didn¡¯t miss a beat. Then I realized our night footman sat playing!


    I felt astonished. But I couldn¡¯t stare at the man or he would surely wonder why, or look my way and perhaps recognize me. So I ignored the people eyeing me curiously ¡ª I was veiled and wearing mourning, after all ¡ª and walked through the smoke-filled oak-paneled room to the bar.


    ¡°You¡¯re in trouble again,¡± Vig said, in a tone at least 100 deci-Bels decreased in volume. I nodded.


    He gestured to another man to take over the bar, then escorted me to a back room and closed the door. The delicious smells of his mother¡¯s cooking wafted through the air. ¡°Tell me what troubles you.¡±


    I raised my veil. ¡°I think someone is following me.¡±


    He walked out, closed the door behind him, and came back several minutes later. ¡°Man in brown across the street, standing with a smoke. Keeps watching the front. Looks like a cop. I¡¯ll take care of it.¡± He examined me. ¡°I got a new gypsy gal, just your size. She¡¯s got some nice dresses. I¡¯ll send her in.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Vig.¡± I stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. ¡°One day we¡¯ll sit and drink together, I promise.¡±


    ¡°You always promise.¡± He winked. ¡°You go home to your Manor. Vig will keep you safe.¡±


    He left, and I mused about good friends and promises. A woman came in, a bit older, but with brown hair and a similar form, carrying a basket. Perhaps a bit shorter and heavier, but I could slouch. I switched dresses with her without learning her name. She grinned when she saw my boot-knife on the left and my revolver in its calf holster on my right, and smiled in earnest when I gave her the half-dollar.


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Your face.¡± She handed me a small looking-glass. ¡°Use rouge or lip paint on it, then powder it, and it will look better.¡± She patted the lip paint over the marks of Roy¡¯s hand, which were turning green, then applied another coat of powder.


    It did look better.


    ¡°I¡¯ll have your dress sent in a few days. Thank you.¡±


    She nodded. ¡°You were never here.¡±


    I went out the back as a fight broke out near the front, spilling into the street. I chuckled as I strolled back to Madame Biltcliffe¡¯s.


    She in turn laughed when I entered her back door. ¡°Today you are a gypsy?¡±


    ¡°Vig will send your dress.¡±


    ¡°Ah. Then you had trouble. You are safe?¡±


    I smiled. ¡°Yes, I am safe. And grateful for your concern.¡±


    But I rushed home, fearful.


    Neither Madame nor Tenni spoke of a message from Stephen, and someone followed me to Vig¡¯s bar. I didn¡¯t want to have anything to do with the police, nor to have the young man fall into their hands. I didn¡¯t relax until I stepped inside my home and Pearson closed the door.


    ¡°Mum,¡± Pearson said, ¡°a constable is here to see you.¡±


    * * *


    Constable Paix Hanger: a tired-looking man in a rumpled uniform, navy blue with brass buttons. He stood in my parlor as if he¡¯d rather be anywhere but Spadros Manor. He seemed familiar.


    I neither removed my hat nor lifted my veil. I had decided to wear a veil until my face healed, to keep unwanted questions at bay. ¡°May I help you?¡±


    ¡°Yes, mum.¡± He stood with his hands behind his back, feet apart. ¡°I am investigating a case of a missing child, and would like to ask some questions.¡±


    I realized he was the constable at the tent meeting, who I went under the canopy to avoid. Part of me felt glad someone investigated David¡¯s disappearance, yet another part felt afraid. Why was he here to see me? Did he recognize me that night?


    ¡°I am at a loss.¡± I sat, and gestured for him to sit. ¡°Anything I can do to help, I am glad to.¡±


    The constable perched on the edge of the sofa. He smelled like the fresh winter breeze. ¡°Are you familiar with a woman by the name of Eunice Ogier?¡±


    ¡°Should I be?¡±


    The man¡¯s face never changed; in that, he reminded me of Tony. ¡°I have in custody a boy who says this woman Eunice Ogier asked him about the missing boy by name. He also says this woman was there at the same time ¡­ ¡®a rich woman,¡¯ he says ¡­ gave food to the poor. The only group there on the day he mentioned was yours.


    ¡°He stated she gave him food as well. I thought she might have been one of your ladies. We would like to learn what she knows of the matter.¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°I know of no living woman by that name. I¡¯m sorry.¡± I paused, then said, ¡°Could she be a relative?¡±


    The constable shook his head. ¡°The boy¡¯s mother is his only living family.¡± He rose. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to have bothered you, mum.¡±


    I rose as well. ¡°I wish you the best of success.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, mum.¡±


    After he left, I removed my hat, went to my study, and sat at my desk. Why send someone here? To see how I would react? Was it a threat? Or were they stupid, to think I would have a kidnapper¡¯s accomplice in with my maids?


    It was their protocol, I finally decided. They knew I would tell them nothing. But they could now show that someone asked.


    No one from the Pot would talk to a policeman, but Mrs. Spadros had to at least pretend to. Hopefully this would be the end of it.


    I wrote a letter to an old friend, sure it would divert Constable Hanger for a good long while.


    When I went up to dress for dinner, Amelia said, ¡°Mr. Roy was here today.¡±


    My stomach twisted in fear. ¡°Did he hurt you?¡±


    ¡°No, mum. He asked to see Mr. Anthony, and they were in his study for a short time. Mr. Roy sounded quite displeased. When the girl went in later to clean, a table was upset and one of the vases lay broken.¡±


    Roy must have learned of the attack. Horrible scenarios of torture appeared in my mind. I took a deep breath. ¡°Is Mr. Anthony well?¡±


    ¡°He seemed well,¡± Amelia said, ¡°but he left shortly after Mr. Roy did.¡±


    The front door opened and closed downstairs, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Tony was at dinner, and didn¡¯t appear further injured, yet said little. After dinner, he said he felt tired and went to his room.


    Tony hadn¡¯t done this in some time. I went to my room and after Amelia helped me undress, lay in bed.


    So much had happened to him; I wasn¡¯t surprised that he felt disturbed. I felt glad to sleep alone for once. But I caused a good deal of his troubles, and I wanted to help.


    Ma told me once, ¡°When a man is most in turmoil, then he needs a woman.¡±


    So I rose, turned out the lights, and took a deep breath. I had never gone to his room before; he had always come to mine. Gathering my courage, I went through our shared closets, carefully opening the door.


    Tony lay in bed, eyes open.


    I made a slight noise, and Tony peered in my direction. ¡°Who¡¯s there?¡±


    I knelt by the side of his bed, brushing his hair back from his face. ¡°I missed you.¡±


    He shook his head, just a little. ¡°Not now, Jacqui, I¡¯m tired. Please ¡­ no, just go to bed.¡±


    ¡°Why? What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    He wouldn¡¯t look at me.


    Feeling humiliated, I hurried away before he saw my tears.


    * * *


    Peedro Sluff grabbed my left arm with his left hand and yanked me in front of him. I shrieked at his touch: at his smell, I came close to retching. ¡°This is my daughter,¡± he said, and shoved me forward.


    I stared back at Peedro. This was my father?


    Roy Spadros let out a cold, cruel laugh, as if claiming utter victory over someone he hated more than anything in the world. ¡°You¡¯re sure about that, are you?¡±


    I felt frightened, confused. Fear flashed through Peedro¡¯s brown eyes, which turned into determination. ¡°If she goes, I go with her.¡±


    I woke in darkness, heart pounding. The room was quiet and empty; I felt relieved that I hadn¡¯t screamed.


    I put on my robe and peeked out of my room. Our night footman paced towards Tony¡¯s door with a candle in his hand. He listened at the door, then walked back, a golden glow beside him. He smiled when he saw me. ¡°May I help you, mum?¡±


    I stepped into the hallway. ¡°I wanted to thank you for your help when Mr. Spadros was so ill.¡±


    ¡°Of course, mum, it¡¯s why I¡¯m here.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t even know your name.¡±


    ¡°Blitz Spadros, mum. Mr. Anthony and I are cousins.¡± While he didn¡¯t resemble Tony in any other way, they shared the same smile. ¡°Glad to help. I don¡¯t need much sleep, so I might as well do something useful.¡± He chuckled, then gestured with his head. ¡°I better go check on him. Have a good evening.¡±


    He had a holstered pistol on his right hip. I watched as he walked back to Tony¡¯s door and listened to him breathe.


    As I drifted to sleep, I felt grateful we had such loyal men.


    * * *


    The news that morning had a column on a missing boy, with mention of a ¡°woman of interest.¡± The description only said this woman had brown hair.


    That trail was cold; Stephen spoke to the police. I had no intention of contacting the young man again.


    Someone followed me from the train station. That meant they had a better description than what they published. I wore a veil, true. But they had the policeman¡¯s description. Plus a whole room of people saw the proprietor greet me. Which meant the police questioned ¡ª or tried to question ¡ª Vig and the girls.


    I laughed. Vig probably threw them out with his own hands.


    Amelia gave me a curious glance but said nothing.


    At breakfast, Tony said nothing about his encounter with his father or his words to me the night before. He left for a short time after morning meeting.


    So I wrote the dinner party invitations. After I gave the invitations to Pearson, I sat at my desk, thinking.


    Air¡¯s little brother dead, his youngest brother missing.


    Grief threatened to crush me every time I let myself think of this. But if I were to have any chance of helping David, I knew I must force myself to.


    A false note on Madame Biltcliffe¡¯s stationery. A Red Dog card in my pocket at the Ball. The card on my doorstep.


    The card on my doorstep was the true mystery. Who could step onto our street in front of the Kerr coachmen, without being challenged? Not a slum boy or a hired waiter.


    But then I remembered: the constables found Herbert Bryce in the Diamond quadrant.


    I clasped my hands to my face in horror.


    Jack Diamond.


    If that madman had harmed those boys, he would regret the day I proved it.


    But then I felt afraid for my safety. A low-class scoundrel would be unlikely to touch me, even on a case. But if Jack Diamond thought I was doing my own investigation and gained the presence of mind to take advantage of it, I was in terrible danger. One word to Tony, or worse yet, Roy, and ¡­


    I wasn¡¯t sure I would survive. Jack could wreak his vengeance on me without ever being a suspect.


    That was the card¡¯s meaning: not a taunt, but a threat. Jack showed he could reach me anywhere, even Spadros Manor.


    How dare he threaten me?


    I pounded my fist on the desk. To the Shredder with you, Jack Diamond! Burn in the Fire!


    Jonathan¡¯s pressed flowers fell, wafting to the floor.


    This had gone on long enough. I would find David Bryce and free him, or die trying.


    But how?


    My only real clues were the Red Dogs and the Diamond quadrant. I didn¡¯t know how to contact one, and going to the other left me open to Jack¡¯s men, who would have orders to apprehend me should I appear.


    There seemed little choice in the matter. I would have to go to the person I least wanted to see and ask for help.

 Chapter 1: The Jacq of Spades - Round 12: The Conflict

    A run-down liquor shop in the Spadros slums: the door, warped; the floor tiles, cracked. The room smelled of mold; the lamps were dusty and streaked with soot. No one stood behind the counter, so I wandered among aisles of bottom shelf swill for several minutes before someone appeared.


    ¡°Who¡¯s there? What do you want?¡± From his speech, he had taken quite a bit of Party Time already.


    I emerged into view. ¡°Your door-bell is broken.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± my father said, ¡°it¡¯s you.¡±


    Peedro Sluff was still a dissolute wretch, who would sell his soul ¡ª assuming he had one ¡ª to supply his lusts, especially if the transaction involved Party Time.


    ¡°So this is what you traded me for? So you can snort Party Time all day?¡±


    ¡°Aww, Jacqui, you¡¯re not happy wearing silks and eating pheasant? Give me the cash you¡¯re throwing around, then.¡±


    ¡°Mr. Roy Spadros gives you money every month. Should I tell him you want more?¡±


    My father gave me a sullen glare, a sour smell wafting through the room. ¡°What do you want?¡±


    ¡°A man named Clover, with an eye-patch.¡±


    ¡°What do you want him for?¡± He gave me a leering grin. ¡°A little fun?¡±


    ¡°He has information I need.¡±


    ¡°Why should I do anything for you?¡±


    ¡°Because you don¡¯t want me as an enemy.¡±


    His eyes widened. ¡°You¡¯re a bitch, you know that? I try to help you all the time and you don¡¯t appreciate any of it.¡±


    Peedro hadn¡¯t done a thing to help me in his entire life, assuming he was even present at my conception.


    He squirmed at my silence. ¡°Okay, yeah, I know him.¡±


    I kept staring at him.


    ¡°He comes here every day after work, buys a six-pack of beer. Half past six, every night, except Sundays. Now get out of here.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    ¡°Where¡¯s my money? I should get something for helping you upper sluts.¡±


    ¡°When I talk to Clover, you¡¯ll get some.¡±


    My father growled. ¡°Get outta here, you filthy whore, before someone sees you.¡±


    I love you too, I thought bitterly, and left.


    * * *


    I got home for tea, and sat with Tony in silence. Every time I had anything to do with my father, it left me feeling melancholy.


    Did my mother love Peedro? She never spoke of him except with scorn, never showed warmth towards him, avoided my questions about him. The night Air died, she warned me away from him. She must have loved Peedro once; she could have had a child with anyone.


    Peedro must have been a very different man twenty-two, twenty-three years ago. I wondered what happened to make her hate him, to make him sink so low.


    ¡°Jacqui?¡±


    Something in Tony¡¯s voice made me feel uneasy. I forced myself to smile. ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°Would you tell me again what happened to your face?¡±


    Did Tony not believe me? What could I tell him?


    He couldn¡¯t learn that Roy attacked me. If he knew what happened, he would confront Roy about it. That terrified me almost as much as Roy did. I regarded him warily. ¡°What would you like to know?¡±


    He sat staring at me for a moment, not moving, not breathing, then shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. You¡¯ve told me everything.¡±


    Not showing the relief I felt in that moment was the most difficult thing I had done in my life. But his life depended on it.


    Tony leaned across the table. With great precision, he placed his hand on mine, yet his voice was stern. ¡°I have asked my father not to come here again uninvited. He is not pleased with me, but he will do as I ask.¡±


    I felt stunned, my heart pounding. The table turned, the vase broken ¡­ he seemed fine last night, yet I surveyed him for signs of injury with a sense of dread. ¡°Did he hurt you?¡±


    A small sad smile crossed Tony¡¯s face. ¡°My body is no more hurt than it has been.¡±


    ¡°Thank the Dealer.¡± I let the wave of relief which washed over me show, and tears came to me unbidden. ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°That is between he and I,¡° Tony said, but his voice was gentle. I felt he learned something terribly painful in the encounter with his father, something he wished he hadn¡¯t. So I didn¡¯t ask anything more.


    But he came to my bed that night, just to hold me and take rest together. For the first time, I felt glad he wished to be there.


    * * *


    Two days later, a horse truck drove past Peedro Sluff¡¯s liquor store and parked down the street. When a young man wearing a patch on his left eye came past, he found himself deposited in the back of said truck by a rather large man.


    The doors slammed. I sat on a crate near the driver¡¯s compartment. My face, hooded, lay mostly in shadow. An oil lamp stood on the floor, turned low.


    Clover scrambled to crouch in the low-ceilinged truck. ¡°What the hell?¡± He was gangling, disheveled, and smelled of smoke, with light brown hair and the beginnings of a beard. ¡°Who the fuck are you?¡±


    ¡°Tell me about the Red Dogs.¡±


    Clover laughed. ¡°Who says I know about them?¡±


    ¡°I do. Who do you get orders from?¡±


    ¡°Why should I tell you anything?¡±


    ¡°Because if you don¡¯t, the man who plucked you from the street could set you down somewhere worse. For example, the morgue. He watches you now.¡±


    Clover glanced around and gulped. ¡°O ¡­ okay, miss, no offense. Yeah, I know the Dogs ¡­ they give orders through their man. Don¡¯t know his real name; he said call him Morton. I only seen him once; he sends a message when he wants something done. He gets his orders from the Big Man Himself, he says, but he never said what the Big Man¡¯s name was.¡±


    Morton. An odd name. ¡°What does Morton look like?¡±


    Clover shrugged. ¡°Like us, I guess, only older. Brown hair.¡±


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    I wondered how this man survived to adulthood with such poor observational skills. ¡°Who else is in the Dogs?¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t know, and that¡¯s the truth,¡± Clover said. ¡°They said there¡¯s other treys, but we don¡¯t never hear nothing about them, so if one of us gets caught we can¡¯t tell nothing.¡±


    Smart. ¡°Treys?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, an ace and two chips. I guess Morton must give them all orders.¡± He paused. ¡°Unless there are other ones like Morton who give orders. That I don¡¯t know.¡±


    Since this depended on secrecy, but had to be expandable, there were at least a few Mortons in Spadros. In each quadrant. Although I didn¡¯t recall seeing reports from the Hart quadrant.


    ¡°Do you know about boys being taken? They found a Red Dog stamp at a kidnapping, and found a boy dead with a Red Dog card on him.¡±


    At this, Clover¡¯s eye widened in fear. ¡°I swear, I don¡¯t know nothing about that. Garn, they start blaming things like that on us and we¡¯re done for.¡±


    ¡°So you think someone is trying to discredit you?¡± At his blank stare, I added, ¡°Blame you for things you never did?¡±


    ¡°Yes, miss, I do. The worst I ever told my chips to do was put a rock through a window. Morton said it would get rid of the Families, so honest folk could walk without being scared of them.¡±


    The words sounded an echo of Thrace Pike¡¯s words, that night after the tent meeting. But Mr. Pike¡¯s style seemed completely different.


    ¡°I¡¯m done here.¡± I banged twice on the truck wall and raised my voice. ¡°Give the man something for his trouble.¡±


    Vig leaned in, grabbed Clover by his jacket, hauled him out, gave him a coin, and sent him on his way. We drove a few blocks, then the truck stopped. A moment later Vig opened the back door. ¡°We gotta talk.¡±


    I climbed out of the back and stood at the end of the truck. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    Vig put his fist on his hip and stared away. ¡°I like you. I help you when you have trouble. I ride you anywhere. But I¡¯ll not be no Spadros enforcer.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°You used me to scare the boy. You don¡¯t even ask. You say, ride me there, get the boy. Nothing else.¡±


    ¡°Vig ¡­¡± How else would I get the man to talk?


    ¡°No. I live in Spadros, but I¡¯ll not work for them.¡±


    I had no idea he felt this way. ¡°I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d mind.¡±


    Vig looked outraged. ¡°What do you think I am? A brute?¡±


    ¡°Vig, that¡¯s not how I see you. We¡¯re buddy friends, right?¡±


    ¡°Are we?¡± He shook his head. ¡°I¡¯ll not be no enforcer ¡­ not even for you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Vig ¡­ I didn¡¯t know. I was wrong to scare him. I¡¯ll never do it again.¡± I looked in his eyes. Had I lost his friendship? ¡°Can you forgive me?¡±


    His face softened. ¡°Get in the truck.¡± So I did.


    A few moments later, the truck lurched forward again and soon I was around the corner from my own back door. Vig did not tarry; once I was out of the truck, he left without saying good-bye.


    * * *


    ¡°Did you have a pleasant walk?¡±


    Tony and I sat in the parlor, across a small table from each other, sipping port and eating cherries covered in dark chocolate.


    It was a lonely walk from Vig¡¯s truck. His reaction shook my confidence. Was I someone who used people? ¡°Yes, it was lovely.¡±


    ¡°Two of our guards have been found.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s wonderful!¡±


    ¡°Well, perhaps. They were dumped outside the warehouse, bound, gagged, and hooded. They didn¡¯t know where they were held. They were not treated well.¡± Tony looked disturbed, and I dared not ask what he witnessed.


    ¡°Did they say anything else?¡±


    ¡°One other person was held. A young boy.¡± Tony shuddered. ¡°The child was being treated worst of all.¡±


    I felt stunned at the revelation. Could this be David Bryce? What link lay between the men and the boy? ¡°Did the men know who took them?¡±


    Tony shook his head. ¡°They said the man wore all black, his face covered with a black cloth, or veil like what you ladies wear perhaps, but thicker, so they couldn¡¯t see what he looked like. Not even a small part of his skin showed, nor the color of it, nor even his eyes, but they did say that he was a huge man, monstrously tall. He kept them blindfolded most of the time, or in the dark, and tied.¡±


    ¡°Well, that sounds pleasant. Did he say why he took them?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Tony said, ¡°that¡¯s the true mystery. He didn¡¯t seem to want anything with the men, or even the boy, except to torment them. Tormenting the boy seemed to amuse him more than anything else, especially when the boy would cry for his mother.¡±


    A wave of grief washed over me, picturing Air treated so. I covered my face with my handkerchief to hide my tears.


    ¡°Oh, my love, forgive me! I never meant to distress you.¡± Tony turned towards me, a slight grimace revealing the pain it cost him, and took my hands. ¡°Please forget my words. From the descriptions the guards gave us, we should find the boy.¡±


    I tried to smile, wanting to keep his mind off the subject of the boy, who could only be David Bryce. ¡°What of the other guards?¡±


    Tony shook his head. ¡°The guards know nothing of them. They speculate the men were killed, but we never found their bodies.¡± He took a deep breath and let it out. ¡°It is clear a scoundrel is on the loose, of greater depravity than any we have seen in quite a while.¡±


    I had no idea who this person could be. Jack Diamond, while tall, was not excessively so; there were few men in the city who fit this description.


    Tony said, ¡°I spoke with your friend Joseph Kerr at the Gentleman¡¯s Club today ¡ª¡±


    My heart fluttered at Joe¡¯s name. I missed him so much. Did he ever think of me?


    ¡°¡ª and in passing I mentioned our troubles with that street gang, the ones with the red stamps ¡ª¡±


    ¡°The Red Dogs?¡±


    ¡°Yes, that was the one. In any case, Master Kerr said he heard rumors ¡­ he called it the Red Dog Gang ¡­ that it started in the Diamond quadrant. He speculated Master Jack Diamond might be behind the mischief. It sounds like the sort of random violence that would appeal to him.¡±


    This dovetailed too closely with my thoughts to be anything but disturbing. ¡°Has anyone seen Jack Diamond of late?¡±


    Tony shrugged and took out his pocket-watch, winding it. ¡°Who knows what the man does? I suppose his family must keep track of him. It surprises me that he is allowed to roam freely, when he might be better suited to a ward.¡±


    This discussion unsettled me. While Jack Diamond was unwell, he owned property. If Fortune frowned on his older brothers, Jack might one day inherit the Diamond Family Business. To be known for speaking ill of him could be an unhappy habit should he come into his own.


    I would have to warn Joe about his loose speech. Jack Diamond made a formidable enemy. ¡°I do not like speaking of others who are not present, especially to speak of them poorly.¡±


    ¡°Forgive me. You are much kinder than I to concern yourself with the reputation of a man who has threatened you in public.¡±


    ¡°But that is it exactly. Master Diamond has spoken his mind and vented his rage. We know of his malice, and unless he were to go completely mad, he dares not carry out his threats. If you, or I, or my father were to disappear or be harmed, suspicion would immediately fall upon him.¡±


    Unless, of course, he got someone else to do his dirty work. A forged note on Madame Biltcliffe¡¯s stationery to the wrong person could ruin me. ¡°What concerns me more are those whose malice towards our Family is silent and hidden.¡±


    ¡°I hadn¡¯t considered this aspect of it,¡± Tony said.


    The fire crackled as a log shifted.


    What did David have to do with this?


    Tony said, ¡°Who holds men and boys just to torment them? And why target me with violence? I have received no threats, no demands, no word as to motive. And this hidden motive is more puzzling when I look at who might want to cause me trouble.¡± He paused. ¡°Even Bridgers wouldn¡¯t torment innocent children.¡±


    Then he shook himself. ¡°Let us forget this villain.¡± He smiled. ¡°It¡¯s been too long since we took comfort from each other.¡±


    So he finally felt well enough. I remembered the situation a few nights before with sadness. But I forced myself to smile, perfectly willing to think of Joe for an evening, even though nothing would come of it.


    Why did I do this, when Joe seemed to have no interest in me? It was how I endured the marriage-bed of a man I didn¡¯t love. I suppose it was fortunate I never became a whore; I was most unsuited to the task.


    * * *


    I smelled gun oil and lavender. I stood at the door to the church wearing my bride-gown, searching for some way to escape this nightmare. Something cold and hard pressed against the back of my neck. A gun-hammer cocked, close behind my right ear.


    Roy¡¯s voice came from behind. ¡°You¡¯ll walk that aisle, and say the words, and make no fuss. Make us believe it, now and for all time, or you¡¯ll be dead.¡±


    I woke sobbing with terror, Amelia beside me in the gray morning light.


    ¡°There, there, dear,¡± Amelia said, smoothing my hair, until I was able to catch my breath. Then she said, ¡°You just had a dream. All is well.¡±


    I never dreamed this scene before, or even recalled it; I must have put it from my mind. But now the whole memory of that horrible day fell on me in full. I wept in earnest, unable to catch my breath.


    ¡°Do you want me to call Mr. Anthony?¡±


    Fear gripped me; I stopped crying at once. ¡°No.¡± He must never know. Roy made that quite clear. I wiped my face, forcing myself to appear calm. ¡°No. It¡¯s all right. I¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    * * *


    Amelia put rosewater in my pitcher, remarking that it might lift my spirits. After I washed my hands and face, the room did smell lovely.


    My mail brought bad news: while Joe and Josephine Kerr would attend the dinner party, Mr. Polansky Kerr had a prior engagement.


    Damn. That left me with an extra seat.


    Molly stood before an easel, which held a diagram. ¡°It is vital that the number of men and women at a dinner party be equal. No one should feel slighted or uncomfortable by being the odd number.¡±


    Even at twelve years old, Tony and I listened attentively. Roy impressed upon us that being good hosts was as important as anything else we did. So here I was, ten years later, with a dilemma: who to invite that would not take offense at being invited to fill a seat? The answer to this must wait; I had more important items to consider.


    Unless I found this man Morton (perhaps even if I did), I would have to search for David Bryce. The major problem in doing so, other than the danger from Jack Diamond¡¯s men, was entering the Diamond quadrant itself.


    Public taxi-carriages wouldn¡¯t drive to another quadrant without a definite address, and I had no contacts there. Entering the Diamond quadrant in a Spadros carriage without an invitation would attract all sorts of attention, none good.


    I felt like one of Air¡¯s automatons, running into one wall or another until I found my way.

 Chapter 1: The Jacq of Spades - Round 13: The Man

    Tony left after breakfast to attend to the Business. When Pearson was out of sight, I went into Tony¡¯s library, closing the door behind me. While larger and finer than Mr. Kerr¡¯s library, it continued the gray, pastel blue, and white theme which covered most of our home. So I preferred the library at the Kerr¡¯s.


    But I didn¡¯t come here to admire the decor.


    ¡°Holy Writ,¡± I murmured, ¡°Casino Management ¡­ Fall of the Western Empire ¡­ Business Communication ¡­ ah! Here it is!¡±


    A street atlas of the city of Bridges, a slim volume, but important in my case. I opened the book onto Tony¡¯s desk, being careful not to disturb anything. After studying several maps of the Diamond quadrant, I decided to visit Mrs. Bryce.


    Mrs. Bryce appeared in better spirits, and although thinner and paler than I remembered, glad to see me. She invited me in her back room and offered me luncheon, but her plate seemed so bare I told her I had already supped. She didn¡¯t argue, eating my tiny portion as well as hers.


    She peered at me. ¡°Do you have any news?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°I have evidence that David may be alive.¡±


    Mrs. Bryce sobbed while I sat silently, recalling how unhelpful Amelia¡¯s words were earlier. At last she said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± and wiped her eyes.


    I said, ¡°A group of men was recently kidnapped. They described a young boy held alongside them. The description of the boy matches David¡¯s.¡±


    Mrs. Bryce stared at me in shock. ¡°This is horrendous!¡±


    ¡°The men couldn¡¯t tell us where they were being held. I have reason to believe your son is in the Diamond quadrant.¡±


    Mrs. Bryce nodded, tears filling her eyes. ¡°Yes, where my poor Herbert was found.¡±


    ¡°I must ask ¡ª do you have any contacts, or friends, or associates in Diamond? A person I might make a delivery to, or you might visit?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a fabric shop, much like mine; the owner imports his material from Europe. I''ve been there once before, but the prices were too high for me to order anything. I have his card here somewhere.¡± She began to search the room.


    Several people came in, milled about, and left without purchasing anything. I attended the counter, dressed in Tenni¡¯s shop maid uniform, yet no one paid me any mind.


    Finally, she said, ¡°I have it!¡±


    ¡°Very good. When can we visit? I can return on ¡ª¡±


    ¡°I will wait no longer.¡± She got her keys and hung the ¡°closed¡° sign on the door. I followed her outside; she locked the door and went down the street.


    Her decisiveness seemed such a departure from her usual manner that I felt completely surprised. After a moment¡¯s hesitation, I followed. Perhaps I would have the same reaction if my child were missing. I couldn¡¯t imagine bearing a child in the first place, so the point seemed moot.


    I found a public taxi-carriage that would take us to the Diamond quadrant, and soon we were off to the address on her card, the taxi-carriage¡¯s wheels rattling over the cobblestones. ¡°How did you come to be in Bridges?¡±


    What I wanted to ask was ¡°How did you come to leave Bridges?¡° But I couldn¡¯t ask, not yet, or she would realize who I really was.


    Mrs. Bryce sighed. ¡°My husband was an importer, but not a competent one. He died suddenly, leaving a large amount of debt which I was unable to pay. First, the better part of my inventory was seized, then my customer lists were taken, then I was threatened with eviction.


    ¡°I saw a notice in the paper advertising shops for rent in Bridges, so when the creditors informed me they were taking our home, I gathered what inventory was left and brought my sons here.¡± She stared out of the window. ¡°At times I feel it might have been better to stay and face the debtor¡¯s prison.¡±


    Debtor¡¯s prison? Her city sounded harsher than Bridges, if such a thing were possible.


    The carriage came to a halt, and we alighted to the silver-gray cobbles. The temperature had dropped, and I wished I brought Tenni¡¯s overcoat.


    The shop was in the better part of the Diamond quadrant, and I could see why the prices might be too high for Mrs. Bryce.


    I felt eyes on me, and a light-skinned man in brown turned away before I could see his face. A shiver of fear went down my back. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here.¡±


    A few streets over, we found a taxi-carriage which would take us to the slums ¡°to see our aunt.¡± For an extra penny, he brought us to a rundown street a few blocks outside the Pot, just west of the main roadway. ¡°It might be hard to find a taxi-carriage here,¡± he said.


    Clever man. ¡°Would you wait for us?¡±


    He thought for a moment. ¡°I suppose I can ¡­. If you have another penny¡­?¡±


    I glanced at Mrs. Bryce, who nodded.


    ¡°When we return, I promise.¡±


    He nodded, then pulled his goggles down around his neck, tipping his hat over his eyes and leaning back.


    We cut between two buildings and down an alley.


    From the description the men gave Tony, it seemed they were held in a larger building, such as a warehouse. Few such buildings lay in Diamond, which wasn¡¯t known for its manufacturing. Most of the warehouses were in the western part of the Diamond section of the Pot. For this reason, I planned to limit the search to the west Diamond Pot, which was all we had time for.


    The only good thing about each section of the Pot is that it is narrower than the rest of the quadrant it belongs to, being at the ¡°point,¡± if you will, closest to Market Center. I decided to begin at the south end and work my way north.


    I felt glad the warehouses were concentrated in the western Diamond Pot. I didn¡¯t want to have to travel the tunnels under the roadway, dressed as I was. All sorts of scoundrels and ruffians loitered in such places.


    Even though the Diamond Pot was fenced with wrought iron, as was the Spadros Pot, this fence also had openings, either melted away by ray blasts or by the many bombings. It didn¡¯t take long to find one and slip through.


    Someone whistled from high up and to our right, and it reminded me of my days in the High-Low Split. Our watchers whistled if they saw someone: one for quadrant-folk, to beg or steal from; two for another gang attacking; three for the cops.


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    We dodged packs of dogs and men, wove around sleeping forms, piles of trash, and the occasional curious onlooker. An old woman with dark brown skin leaned on a battered broom at her door. Dirty, ragged children just out of infancy spun a broken bottle. A man with pale skin roused from sleep peered at us then covered his head with a piece of cardboard.


    Strangely enough, we were never challenged. Also, the streets were too clean. The piles of trash were well-stacked, no smell of filth or urine permeated the air, and no corpses covered with carrion lay about. It seemed strange.


    Perhaps they conducted their affairs differently here.


    This area must have survived the wars better than Spadros quadrant; more of the buildings stood undamaged. Several of the buildings were locked (and more to the point, bolted) on all sides. As we could hear nothing and had no way to force entry, we left those. Others were unsafe to enter, and after hearing no reply to our shouts, we left those as well.


    ¡°This is so frustrating!¡± Mrs. Bryce said. ¡°My poor child could be in any of these and we wouldn¡¯t know it.¡±


    No bolts secured the next building, a one-story brick warehouse. So I retrieved my picks (which I had secreted in my bodice) and began to work on the lock.


    Steps came from behind. ¡°Ah, now look here,¡± a man¡¯s voice came, also from behind, along with a pair of hands traveling around my midsection.


    At his touch, I slumped down, backwards, and to the side. Moving forward and likely taken off guard, he fell to the other side, being thrown over my shoulder and against the door by his own actions.


    I¡¯m not sure how to explain it better: I never learned the technique¡¯s proper name. I''d practiced the maneuver many times, but never used it in reality before. It was one of the first lessons Roy taught me, and he claimed knowing the name would interfere. ¡°You brood too much as it is.¡±


    I pulled my dagger from my left boot-sheath and put it to the man¡¯s neck.


    Pale skin, a crooked nose, and light brown hair. A dirty laborer¡¯s shirt with orange-brown pants and a coat twenty years or more out of fashion. The clothes looked as if they came from the items the poorhouse threw out, too threadbare and torn to sell. His face was smeared with dirt, and he smelled as if he hadn¡¯t bathed in a week.


    ¡°Hey, now.¡± He glanced down with surprise and fear in his eyes. ¡°I was just having a bit a fun with you. No need for knifing.¡± His speech was slurred, as if he had an impediment.


    I stepped back. ¡°Fun¡¯s over, move on.¡±


    He picked up his cap and put it back on, but not soon enough to hide a look of deep chagrin. ¡°You smell too good for any maid a hers,¡± the man gestured at Mrs. Bryce. ¡°And not many maids know they way round a knife, either.¡±


    And I did; I learned knife-fighting as a child, from Josephine Kerr herself.


    ¡°Tis none your concern.¡± I fell back to Pot-speak, I suppose, without meaning to.


    ¡°No dummy, me. Pot rag dressed a slum maid, smelling like a lady. And armed.¡± He took off his cap and bowed. ¡°Please to meet you, Mum Spadros.¡±


    No dummy indeed. ¡°Hush, you fool. Black Jack would see me dead.¡±


    ¡°He would. And you too pretty for that rascal, so I keep my trap shut.¡± He smiled, and his swollen gums lacked several teeth.


    ¡°You gotta name to give?¡±


    ¡°Eh,¡± he said, disappointed, ¡°knew you would get round to asking. You can call me Morton.¡±


    ¡°Morton!¡±


    ¡°So twas you napped Clover!¡± He laughed and shook his head. ¡°You think my treys don¡¯t talk? When Clover told me a men blaming us for napping lads, I had to set things right.¡±


    I thought this was fairly admirable for a man who taught boys to vandalize. ¡°You hear a lad taken?¡±


    The man scrutinized us. ¡°Aye, just ta other side ta fence, or so they say. Jack¡¯s old barn, not used much now. One a ta whores sneaking out heard ta boy a-crying.¡±


    I nodded, and fished out a penny, but the man waved me off. ¡°You forget so soon. Help you own, aye?¡±


    ¡°Aye,¡± I said, abashed. ¡°Thank ye.¡±


    ¡°Stay warm,¡± he said.


    ¡°Stay warm,¡± I turned to leave, but then thought of Stephen. He didn¡¯t sound like an outsider, but who else would talk to the police? ¡°Wait.¡± Morton turned back. ¡°Red Dogs take outsiders?¡±


    He spat. ¡°Never.¡± Then he went round the corner.


    Mrs. Bryce frowned, as if puzzling out something. ¡°So do we go there?¡±


    It could be a trap. Pot rags don¡¯t steal from each other, cheat each other, or betray each other ¡ª usually ¡ª but they will anyone else. Since I wasn¡¯t a Pot rag anymore, I wasn¡¯t sure how I qualified in his eyes.


    He didn¡¯t look like a Diamond, which made me suspicious. I had no proof he was even from the Pot, other than an accent.


    But we might not get a better chance. ¡°We go.¡±


    Someone whistled, close by. We hurried through the maze of alleys, around broken fences, and down streets piled with the rubble of war after war. It began to snow as we went.


    For once, Mrs. Bryce said nothing. I heard her panting as we went round corner after corner, across streets, through alleys, then through another melted hole in the wrought iron, until we got a couple of blocks from the building Morton mentioned.


    Two gentlemen carried a struggling package, boy-sized, which they placed into a carriage. One had light brown skin and wore brown, the other had dark skin and wore white.


    ¡°David!¡± Mrs. Bryce said.


    The men climbed in and the carriage moved away.


    I ran after them, Mrs. Bryce behind. Then I slid to a stop. ¡°Follow me!¡± I ran for our carriage. A dozen blocks away, the carriage still stood there. ¡°Go to the end of the street,¡± I told the driver, ¡°then follow the tracks.¡± After I helped Mrs. Bryce in and shut the door, the driver did so.


    ¡°That was him.¡±


    ¡°Who?¡±


    ¡°That man in white ¡­ it was him. He came to the shop ¡­ a few weeks ¡­ before David went missing.¡± She paused, panting. ¡°He was the only one ¡­ who came by ¡­ the week we moved here. All three of us came out to the store front to meet him.¡±


    I leaned back, horrified.


    ¡°I thought he was a neighbor.¡± Mrs. Bryce stared at her hands. ¡°Why would he take David?¡±


    We sped down the lane, following the tracks, as the snow fell with more intensity.


    I jerked away from a motion out of the corner of my eye, so Mrs. Bryce¡¯s slap barely grazed me. ¡°What the hell are you doing?¡±


    ¡°You got my Nicholas killed!¡± She unleashed a flurry of slaps and punches, which I deflected as the carriage barreled along. I knew this was coming, but the timing of it surprised me.


    Finally she stopped, weeping. ¡°You got him killed! He would have done anything for you, and you got him killed. He was just a little boy.¡±


    We were born the same day.


    After Peedro finished his negotiations with Roy that terrible cold night, he let me go. The crowd began muttering about him killing a child, picking up bricks and iron rods as they moved towards him.


    Jack Diamond glared up from where he knelt by his friend, shaking with rage, dark eyes full of tears. Even Roy Spadros didn¡¯t frighten me as much as the look in this man¡¯s face, which promised terrible vengeance.


    The memory frightened me still.


    I ran to Air, sobbing, but he lay dead. My vision blurred as I half dragged, half carried Air through the foul-smelling streets all that long walk home.


    I didn¡¯t want the rats to get him.


    My mother woke when, exhausted, I dropped Air¡¯s body with a thud on the wooden floor of our quarters. Once she deciphered what had happened, she sent her girls with messages and put me to bed.


    The minute she left the room, I crouched next to the door until Air¡¯s mother came for his body. I listened to her screams, her sobs, her curses.


    Eleanora said the same thing that night ten years ago: I got him killed.


    I did get him killed. I thought about it every day; his death filled my dreams every night. There was nothing I could say.


    * * *


    After about a half hour, the driver pulled over and came round to our window. ¡°Begging your pardon, miss, but I lost them for the snow,¡± he said. ¡°Can you tell me who you¡¯re following?¡±


    I leaned out of the window. ¡°It was a carriage like yours, almost exactly.¡±


    The driver shook his head. ¡°The way that left back wheel was wobbling, he won¡¯t be driving it long. And the other had a divot outta the right back; when he made the turn back there you saw snow clear as day. That¡¯s got to be stole from the carriage-house on Market Center. It¡¯s on the repair list or I¡¯m an old maid.¡±


    ¡°Can you take us back to Spadros? I¡¯ll pay extra.¡±


    ¡°Gladly.¡± The man smiled. ¡°Most fun I¡¯ve had all day.¡±


    Mrs. Bryce didn¡¯t like abandoning our pursuit.


    ¡°What would you have me do? It¡¯s snowing. There are no tracks to follow.¡± I paused for a moment, thinking. ¡°Let me look into this further.¡±


    She wept. ¡°My little boy ¡­ why are they holding him? He¡¯s done nothing wrong!¡±


    We didn¡¯t know that, but it wouldn¡¯t help to say it. ¡°I think I know where to look from here.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯ll find David?¡±


    ¡°Now you want me to help you. After all that?¡±


    She glanced away. ¡°Yes.¡±


    The whole world became silent.


    Toss the deck ¡ª Jack Diamond thought I took the case already. ¡°Yes, I¡¯ll find him.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± she sobbed. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    ¡°But I must tell you true. I¡¯m not the police. I¡¯m just a woman. All I can do is find David, not catch the ones who have him, not bring them to justice. We might not even learn why they did it. If I get him home, you both may be in danger. These scoundrels may try to take him again. But I will find him. Will that be enough?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± She wiped her tears with her handkerchief. ¡°All I want is my boy back, even if for just one day.¡±


    I patted her hand. ¡°I always find who I look for.¡±


    I neglected ¡ª for her sake ¡ª to mention that sometimes I found them dead.

 Chapter 1: The Jacq of Spades - Round 14: The Motive

    Tony hadn¡¯t returned by tea time, so I sat in my study alone and took my tea there.


    A man in brown followed me to Vig¡¯s place.


    A man in brown took the boy to the carriage.


    At least one man in brown watched me. I almost caught a glimpse of his face several times. He always seemed familiar.


    Could this be the same man in brown who followed Stephen and frightened him so?


    At first I passed off Stephen¡¯s fear as a child¡¯s paranoia, but Stephen was more than a child.


    This explained something which bothered me earlier. Perhaps the man in brown followed Stephen the day I was to meet him, frightening him so much he felt the police were his only hope.


    And this scoundrel was allied with Jack Diamond.


    I drank my tea with a sense of foreboding.


    One reason I hadn¡¯t wanted to tell Mrs. Bryce I would find David was I wasn¡¯t sure I could.


    There was more than pride at stake. Being a woman investigator meant most people didn¡¯t trust I would do more than take their money and apologize when I failed. Even most women would rather pay more and have a man take the job, feeling only a man would give a proper day¡¯s work.


    My only leverage so far was I never failed to complete a case. All my contacts were given permission to say so.


    For me to take the case then not find David Bryce ¡ª whether dead or alive ¡ª could mean the end of my career.


    Not having had luncheon, I ate everything the maid brought me, not realizing it until I saw her surprise when she returned. ¡°Will you be having anything else, mum?¡±


    ¡°Another pot of tea, please.¡± I almost asked for rum, but I needed a clear head.


    ¡°Yes, mum.¡± The maid turned to go.


    ¡°You¡¯re Jane¡¯s girl, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Yes, mum, Mary Pearson.¡± She curtsied.


    ¡°Thank your Ma for the sandwiches, they were very good.¡± Fortunately, they were good; we ended up having them for the next several weeks, until Tony tired of them and asked for something else.


    ¡°Thank you, mum.¡± She curtsied and left with the dishes, coming back a few minutes later with a pot of tea and a fresh cup and saucer.


    I pulled over an ottoman and put my feet up. There were so many questions. What puzzled me most about this case was the motive. Why did they take David?


    The kidnappers never asked for ransom: neither gold, nor items, nor information. Instead of taking a rich child, they took a widow¡¯s son. They didn¡¯t sell the child to men who preferred such toys, but simply kept the boy, as they kept the guards.


    These men gained nothing from the kidnappings other than a brief time of torment, which perhaps gave them a perverse sort of pleasure. In a way, this reminded me of Roy, but Roy seldom released his victims. That raised another question: why let the men go and not the boy?


    Something in this felt personal.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Perhaps they meant to strike a blow at our Family by capturing Spadros guards and attacking Tony. I understood Jack Diamond¡¯s hate, if it were he I saw, two blocks away. If someone murdered Joe, I might want to strike back at them, especially if I were mad.


    But what was the man in brown¡¯s motive? Why partner with Jack, of all people? Or was this man just a lackey?


    Many of our servants weren¡¯t descended from the first Acevedo Spadros, as it turned out. But I never heard of the Diamonds using retainers from outside their Family.


    After the murder of Jack¡¯s friend, the Diamond and Spadros Families were at war for almost a year. During that time, the Diamonds expelled anyone from the quadrant who couldn¡¯t prove ties to the Diamond Family. Many of those foolish enough to flee to the Spadros quadrant ended up in Roy¡¯s torture room.


    For a while after, you had to be related to the Diamonds to even live in their quadrant. Even now, people said: Diamonds only protect their own.


    This man in brown didn¡¯t look like a Diamond to me. So where did he come from? The man in brown must be a man of means or influence, to move so easily between quadrants. Even Jack Diamond would have trouble doing so.


    Did he leave the card on my doorstep? I had seen no one skulking outside our home. With the attack, our men had been coming and going too much for strangers to get close without being seen. I wished I could get a better look at the man, or determine a way to identify him¡­.


    His clothing choice made a formidable disguise. Every fashionable young gentleman of means dressed in brown that season; there might be several thousand in the city.


    The door opened and Tony came in. He still wore his overcoat, as if he came in straight past Pearson.


    I rose to greet him, but he waved me to sit. ¡°I can¡¯t stay; my father wants to take the route the guards remember and see what we find.¡±


    ¡°But you¡¯re not completely well.¡±


    He raised his hand. ¡°I won¡¯t be in danger. We have fifty men to search, and six will stay with the carriage. There will be no second ambush, unless this scoundrel has more men than we imagine.¡±


    If he did, it could be all-out war. ¡°Be careful. I would have nothing harm you.¡±


    Tony smiled, and came over to kiss me. ¡°I hope to be home before dinner. It should be quick, whatever we find.¡±


    And then he left me sitting with cold tea and fear.


    * * *


    Tony did return long before dinner, but sat quiet and pensive. After dinner, we sat in Tony¡¯s library by the fire, sipping brandy.


    Finally, I ventured, ¡°How did your expedition fare?¡±


    ¡°Poorly,¡± Tony said. ¡°We had the men describe the path, each blindfolded, each in a separate carriage, but neither destination showed sign of their captivity.¡±


    Two men, two destinations? This seemed odd. ¡°Where did you end up?¡±


    ¡°Two warehouses in Spadros. Both guards were definite in that they did not cross a river.¡±


    They didn¡¯t cross a river. Why did these men move the boy?


    Tony shook his head. ¡°Where could this gang be hiding?¡±


    ¡°You think it¡¯s a gang?¡±


    ¡°What else could it be? No matter how large or strong, no man could overpower four armed guards, bind them, transport them, and hold them for weeks by himself. And six attacked me and my men.¡±


    This made sense. ¡°And then there¡¯s the little boy.¡­¡±


    Tony clapped his hand to his forehead. ¡°I completely forgot the child. I saw no sign of him. I don¡¯t know where to look for him. I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    Even though I would rather find David myself, I felt a sense of loss at Tony¡¯s failure to find him. Someone needed to find him; by now, he must be in a terrible state, not even having other captors to comfort him.


    What sort of monster would do this to a child? ¡°This situation enrages me.¡±


    ¡°I feel distressed as well. If the other Families hear our guards can be treated so, we could find ourselves under attack as they seek advantage.¡±


    I hadn¡¯t considered this. Should I tell Tony what I saw?


    How could I? I wasn¡¯t supposed to even be in the Diamond quadrant, much less chasing child-murderers around the city.


    The only proof of Jack Diamond¡¯s involvement? A glimpse of a dark-skinned man two blocks away wearing white and the word of a widow from the Spadros slums.


    Against a Diamond heir, whose family owned the prison and had enormous power over the courts, it was no evidence at all. For the Spadros Family to make such a dire accusation without proof could plunge the city into war.


    But I remembered what Josephine Kerr told us as children in the Pot: never let anyone get the upper hand, or they will kill you.


    Josie ran our gang, the High-Low Split, with Joe as her backup. Even the High Cards listened to her. By the time I was taken to be betrothed, the other gang members in the Spadros section of the Pot were either part of the High-Low Split, or they were dead. ¡°You¡¯re right in this. You must punish these men, and soon. No one respects those who can¡¯t protect and care for their own. This is why those in the Pot are so despised.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t despise you, or your family. Never think that.¡±


    I put my hand on his. ¡°I have never thought so. You have only offered comfort and support.¡± No matter what Roy had done to me, this at any rate was true.

 Chapter 1: The Jacq of Spades - Round 15: The Visitors

    The next day, this article appeared in the Bridges Daily:


    Saloon Raided, Owner Fined


    Last night, the Spadros quadrant saloon The Pocket Pair was raided by the police, who suspected the owner of selling Party Time. None of the substance was found on the premises, but several of the ¡®working girls¡¯ were jailed for being in the quadrant illegally. The owner, one Vig Vikenti, a native of Spadros, was fined $50.00 for hiring without letters of recommendation and released on his own recognizance.


    Those ladies would regret not securing their papers. Whether they did a poor job at their last post, were on the run from a lover, or whatever circumstance led to this disaster. Wherever they were from, they were members of the Pot now.


    I sighed, and Amelia, who was making the bed, glanced over but said nothing.


    I felt as if this might have been my fault for bringing the shop under the notice of the police, but in my mail was a note:


    Vig is fine, no worries. Gypsy gal fine too. Was too rough with cops that day, they found a way to pay back. They don¡¯t like me. ¡ª V.


    I could only imagine.


    Immediately after luncheon, Constable Hanger returned, a bit less rumpled this time. Tony was off doing his monthly casino inspection, so I had Pearson show the man to the parlor.


    ¡°Yes, Constable, how may I help you?¡± I gestured for him to sit across from me. ¡°Would you like some tea?¡±


    ¡°No, mum.¡± He continued to stand with his feet apart and his hands behind his back. I thought it a nice touch: men liked to make a show of superiority, particularly when powerless. ¡°Were you aware, mum, that letters were being sent from Eunice Ogier to the Spadros Country House?¡±


    I frowned. ¡°Eunice ¡­ Ogier ¡­. Is that the woman you came here about last time?¡±


    ¡°Yes, mum. Apparently she was known by a member of your kitchen staff at the Country House.¡±


    ¡°I shall speak to the staff about this at once.¡±


    ¡°Yes, well, the woman said Miss Ogier left the city.¡± He seemed disappointed. ¡°I thought you should know.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for telling me. Is anything else required?¡±


    The constable hesitated. ¡°Do you have mourning garb?¡±


    ¡°Why, no, I have never needed to purchase any. I have been most fortunate in that regard.¡±


    The constable nodded. ¡°Yes. That is most fortunate.¡± He paused. ¡°Well, I¡¯m sure you¡¯re quite busy. Good day, mum.¡±


    Interesting. He clearly suspected me. But it would be a brave judge indeed who signed the warrant to search Spadros Manor.


    * * *


    Later that day, Jonathan Diamond and his younger sister Gardena came to call. Gardena was two years older than I yet still unmarried.


    I couldn¡¯t understand why. She had no elderly grandfather to forbid her marriage, and was attractive, poised, and intelligent. Perhaps too much so; some men disliked women who spoke their minds, and she had no qualms about doing so. Her unmarried state didn¡¯t bother her, though; she enjoyed life, and happily spent her father¡¯s money.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry that Mr. Spadros isn¡¯t here to greet you.¡± It was strange: Tony had never once been here when Jonathan or Gardena came calling.


    ¡°When do you think he¡¯ll return?¡± Jonathan said.


    I sighed. ¡°Not until time to dress for dinner. Alas, today he must work.¡±


    ¡°We must have an adventure, then!¡± Gardena said.


    Jonathan looked pained. ¡°Nothing too strenuous, I hope.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I forgot, my poor dear brother still has the cold in his joints.¡± Gardena flopped down on the sofa, royal blue dress and raven curls flying.


    Jonathan sat with difficulty, leaning heavily on his cane. ¡°Don¡¯t mock me. It¡¯s most unpleasant not to be able to run and frolic as you continually want to.¡±


    ¡°Jon is old already, while I will be young forever.¡±


    I laughed. ¡°I¡¯ll remind you of that when you¡¯re eighty.¡±


    Gardena stuck her tongue at me, and I laughed harder.


    ¡°So what shall we do?¡± she said.


    I glanced at Jon. ¡°Do you feel well enough for the garden?¡±


    ¡°I think so.¡±


    So we moved to the veranda, which sat off the dining room, with a fine view of the gardens. The day felt warm for this time of year, but Jonathan put his overcoat on before venturing outdoors.


    I checked on my little bird, white with blue-gray markings. It hopped about a large white cage, which hung from a white metal stand. Tony asked me what I wanted for a wedding gift shortly before we married, and I chose this, so I would never forget.


    I never named the bird. It had its own name which it knew itself by, and I felt it would be wrong to give it another.


    Jon didn¡¯t look well, and I wondered why they had gone out. ¡°Are you warm enough?¡±


    He nodded. ¡°Thank you for your invitation, by the way.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry it¡¯s taken so long to have you over.¡± I smiled at Gardena. ¡°I know there¡¯s someone who will be happy to see you.¡±


    Jon and Gardena gave each other a glance which seemed part puzzlement and part hope. ¡°Let us speak with our father.¡±


    ¡°I understand.¡± I hoped Julius would relent and let them accept the invitation. What could Tony possibly have done or said to make Julius Diamond hate him so?


    We sat silently for several minutes, then Gardena insisted I walk with her, leaving Jonathan bundled up, sitting with a cup of tea at the table.


    ¡°Never mind Jon,¡± she said. ¡°He¡¯s in a mood. I thought bringing him here would make him feel better.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s such a shame Jon¡¯s not feeling well. Does Jack have similar troubles with his health?¡±


    ¡°Him?¡± Gardena laughed. ¡°His troubles have nothing to do with his body. He will likely outlive us all, unless he does something drastic.¡±


    I stared at her, appalled. ¡°Has he ever talked of doing such a thing?¡±


    She shrugged. ¡°He talks on every subject, in every permutation. He has days where he doesn¡¯t sleep, days where he appears and acts quite normally, and days where he only sleeps. On his sleepless days, he talks incessantly.


    ¡°My mother bans him from the house when he is like that; his chatter keeps the whole house awake. So he roams the streets, talking with everyone in the quadrant. My father¡¯s men accompany him to make sure he keeps out of trouble.¡±


    Jack sounded much more disturbed than I thought. ¡°Has he talked of ¡­¡± I was going to say ¡°me,¡± but I didn¡¯t want her to get the wrong idea, ¡°¡­ us?¡±


    Gardena looked at me sideways. ¡°He speaks of you, the elder Mr. Spadros, your father ¡­ Sluff, is it? ¡­ and his departed friend Daniel. Daniel¡¯s death is an obsession with him. Jack¡¯s men were supposed to keep him away from you the night of the Ball, but they were distracted. My father was quite displeased.¡± Gardena put her arm through mine. ¡°It¡¯s a comfort to be able to speak of this with you. I¡¯m not supposed to, but you are discreet and sympathetic.¡±


    I smiled at her. ¡°Thank you for your trust.¡±


    ¡°Besides, you¡¯re not a Spadros, not really. You don¡¯t think like them, you don¡¯t act like them. You don¡¯t even look like them.¡± She let go of my arm and twirled around. ¡°My father would have kittens if he knew I shared such information, but I don¡¯t care what he thinks.¡± She skipped around, then came up to me, speaking in a conspiratorial tone. ¡°One day, we must have a sleep-over party, and do each other¡¯s hair, and tell our deepest secrets.¡±


    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    I laughed. ¡°You are delightful! Should we invite Katherine?¡±


    ¡°Certainly.¡± She no longer smiled. ¡°And Calcutta Clubb, and even dull little Ferti Hart.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to offend you. I thought it a nice way to spend time with you both. We can have our party alone, if you prefer.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I do prefer. Katherine is bothersome, and too much wanting to please her father. He doesn¡¯t need to have any of my secrets, thank you.¡±


    I chuckled. ¡°No, he doesn¡¯t.¡± Jonathan leaned forward with his chin on his hand, staring into the air, and I felt uneasy at leaving him alone. ¡°I think Jon despairs of seeing us again.¡±


    ¡°We shall bring him flowers!¡± Gardena began collecting them from my garden, without so much as a by-your-leave. I watched her go here and there pulling them like a young girl, and wondered if she intended to remain such forever, or if she had some deeper intent for being here.


    A maid came out as we approached the veranda and took the flowers from Gardena, returning with them trimmed and neatly arranged in a vase.


    Jonathan smiled when he first saw the flowers but returned to looking morose.


    ¡°Whatever is the matter, Jon?¡± I said.


    He leaned back, smiling brightly. ¡°Oh, too much thinking, that¡¯s all.¡±


    I chuckled. ¡°I¡¯m not often accused of that. You can be my balance.¡±


    He immediately seemed happier. ¡°I accept your challenge.¡±


    Gardena took a few quick steps off, turning to frame us as if a photographer. ¡°Lovely! A picture of perfection.¡±


    I laughed.


    Pearson came outside. ¡°Mrs. Spadros, will your guests be staying for tea?¡±


    I turned to them. ¡°Will you?¡±


    ¡°Of course!¡± Gardena said. Jonathan said nothing to dissuade her, so we went inside.


    Whatever Jonathan¡¯s troubles were, he spoke of them no further, and we had a merry time talking and laughing.


    At the stroke of five, Pearson came in, holding a glass. ¡°Your water, sir.¡±


    Jonathan¡¯s face held deep gratitude. ¡°Thank you, Pearson! How kind of you to remember.¡± Jon took the water from Pearson, then opened his small velvet bag, removing several small clear vials filled with liquid of various colors, which he lined up.


    Each had a number engraved on the side, and Jonathan put the three bearing the number ¡°5¡± directly in front of him, the light from the setting sun shining through them as it peeked through the clouds.


    He then took a small thin glass eye-dropper from the bag. He took two drops from each of the number 5 vials, placing the drops into the glass of water. He drank the water and put the vials away.


    He had done this ¡°for his health¡± for as long as I had known him, and I simply thought it an affectation. But up until now he had never seemed ill. ¡°Jon, what¡¯s wrong? Why do you take these?¡±


    ¡°For my health,¡± he said, as he always did. ¡°Oh, you mean today? It¡¯s nothing.¡± He smiled. ¡°I feel much better. The hot tea was invigorating.¡±


    Relief washed over me. ¡°I¡¯m glad to hear it.¡±


    About half past six, Tony returned, surprise on his face. ¡°Good to see you.¡± He shook Jonathan¡¯s hand, then he came and kissed my cheek. Gardena glanced at Tony, a question in her eyes. When I glanced at Tony, his face held no emotion.


    ¡°Good to see you too.¡± Jonathan smiled. ¡°Unfortunately, we must go; we have another engagement to dress for.¡±


    I felt confused; a few minutes before, they seemed ready to stay all day. ¡°Thank you so much for coming.¡± I walked them to the front door. ¡°I was really glad to see you.¡±


    Pearson opened the door. ¡°Until next time,¡± Gardena said. Then they left, and Pearson closed the door.


    I stood in the hall puzzled. ¡°That was odd.¡± I turned, and Tony was gone.


    Tony seemed distracted at dinner, and went into his study soon after, closing the door. So I went in my study to finish setting up the dinner party.


    I had been planning the menu, decorations, entertainment, and seating for at least an hour. I was wondering who I could invite to complete the table when Pearson knocked on the door. ¡°A Master Blaze Rainbow to speak with you.¡± Pearson handed over a card:


    Blaze Rainbow, Esq.


    No. 5 Eighty-Fourth Street


    Hart, Bridges


    ¡°At this hour?¡±


    ¡°He seemed most insistent to speak with you, alone. Shall I call your maid?¡±


    I studied the card, front and back. It appeared a perfectly presentable calling card. I shook my head. ¡°No need.¡±


    Who might this man be? What might he have to tell me which required such urgency?


    ¡°Very well, mum.¡± Pearson didn¡¯t approve.


    ¡°Dear Pearson.¡± I took his hand. ¡°You may stand ready in case I should scream. But I doubt anyone who passed your scrutiny would attack me in my own study.¡±


    ¡°Yes, mum.¡± He seemed both relieved at standing guard and gratified by the compliment.


    I prepared myself for the man¡¯s entry, curious as to the nature of his visit.


    The door opened. The gentleman wore the latest fashion, with a tan outer coat and a dark brown top hat. He took the hat off as he entered the room, which shielded his face from my view until the door closed. He put the hat in his other hand, which held a polished oak-stained brown walking stick tipped in gold, and turned, straightening to look at me.


    I felt astonished. ¡°Morton!¡±


    He walked into the room, finger over his lips. ¡°Now, Mrs. Spadros,¡± he said, his speech impeccable, ¡°would any creature named Morton be in your study?¡±


    I laughed, delighted. ¡°How wonderful! However did you ¡ª? No, I won¡¯t ask, not now. How may I help you?¡±


    Morton had a beautiful smile; his teeth were perfect. That was his best feature. I wouldn¡¯t have called the man particularly handsome. He was at least thirty, yet not much taller than I. His face was too angular, his nose too large, and his skin had not survived adolescence well. But today, he appeared quite the gentleman, wearing a brown suit and polished brown wingtips. ¡°Any news on your missing lad¡¯s whereabouts?¡±


    ¡°I have hardly had time to do an investigation.¡±


    ¡°I can be of assistance, if you are willing,¡± Morton ¡ª or, I should say, Master Rainbow ¡ª said.


    I felt suspicious. ¡°What is your interest in this?¡±


    ¡°I believe someone is attempting to subvert the original goals of the Red Dogs, discrediting the group to further his own agenda. I intend to stop him.¡±


    ¡°But why? What are the goals of this Red Dog Gang?¡±


    He gave me a sudden, surprised glance.


    ¡°And why would you be involved with such a group in the first place?¡±


    ¡°Ah, my dear, I don¡¯t give up my secrets so easily. I will say only that many people are not particularly fond of your Family¡¯s rule over this city.¡±


    ¡°But you¡¯re willing to help me.¡±


    Morton smiled. It was Morton of the Diamond Pot, yet it was not. The transformation was remarkable.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry you¡¯ve come all this way. I have no information.¡±


    ¡°Madam, if you do come across any, I beg you to allow me to accompany you. I could be an asset.¡±


    The man seemed quite motivated. ¡°I have your card. If I should need assistance I¡¯ll contact you at once.¡±


    The door to Tony¡¯s study opened. Tony and Pearson spoke in the hall, but I couldn¡¯t hear what they said. ¡°I must now concoct a reason for your visit. My butler will certainly tell my husband of your arrival.¡±


    ¡°Be at ease, madam. I have prepared for just such an eventuality. This may assist in your investigations.¡±


    Just then, the door opened, and in came Tony, who had a somewhat wary look to him, not sure what to make of all this. ¡°I have not had the privilege of making your acquaintance, Mr. ¡­¡±


    ¡°Rainbow.¡± Morton handed over another calling card. ¡°Master Blaze Rainbow, currently of Hart quadrant.¡±


    Morton and Tony shook hands. I stood there, amazed.


    ¡°And to what do my wife and I owe the honor of your visit?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry to call at such a late hour, but Mrs. Hart was most insistent.¡±


    Tony frowned. ¡°Mrs. Hart ¡­?¡±


    ¡°The younger Mrs. Hart, Mrs. Helen Hart, put together a luncheon for tomorrow. The invitation for Mrs. Spadros fell behind her sofa cushions. She found the invitation this evening and was distraught at the idea that Mrs. Spadros wouldn¡¯t be able to attend.¡± He produced an invitation. ¡°But fortunately Mrs. Spadros has assured me her schedule is open.¡± He paused, turning to Tony. ¡°I hope this is still the case?¡±


    ¡°I ¡­ well, of course! Thank you for your kind efforts.¡±


    Morton bowed. ¡°I won¡¯t keep you any longer.¡± He handed me the invitation, which seemed thicker than normal, and left.


    I put the invitation in my pocket, and we sat by the fire. Tony rang for Pearson to bring us drinks.


    Blaze Rainbow¡¯s calling card sat between us.


    After Pearson returned with the drinks and went on his way, Tony said, ¡°I hadn¡¯t heard that the Harts were engaging gentlemen as their Associates. They must be either doing very well, or they have some very bored gentlemen.¡±


    I laughed. ¡°Perhaps some gentlemen such as this Master Rainbow see a way to move up in the world.¡±


    Tony tilted his head, and his eyes widened. ¡°I hadn¡¯t considered this.¡± He smiled. ¡°You¡¯re most perceptive.¡±


    I shrugged. It was the way the world worked. I felt grateful for the compliment, but I was no more perceptive than my husband. He lacked only the experience in moving from the depths, having been born to luxury and privilege.


    Being a gentleman meant privilege of its own. But in a city where one Family owned a fourth of the city, having seized most of its buildings, country-houses, and lands, even the titled were lesser to those in the Business, whose privilege was unrivaled.


    This privilege meant much more than just financial affluence. At Tony¡¯s word, men died, families were torn apart, whole neighborhoods were devastated. How could you not be shaped by being born to such power?


    ¡°Such energy in bettering oneself should be encouraged. And I like the idea of gentlemen rising in the Business. Hart is a genius.¡± Tony leaned back, sipping his drink as the fire crackled and snapped.


    Perhaps this Master Rainbow really was a gentleman. He seemed quite confident and prepared. But why pretend to be a Pot rag? Why run a Red Dogs trey?


    Tony would never speak with the Harts, asking about Morton and his relationship with them. The Families considered such information secret.


    Gardena Diamond¡¯s revelations about her brother Jack, for example, could be seen as treasonous. Her father might feel justified in beating or even killing her for betraying a member of her Family, should harm befall them because of her prattle.


    These thoughts made me re-evaluate that entire conversation. Gardena either lied outrageously, or she trusted me much more than she should, to the point of utter foolishness, nay, insanity. But which was it? Could she have a touch of the madness which afflicted her brother Jack?


    This concerned me quite a bit. I liked Gardena. I didn¡¯t want any sort of illness to befall her.


    But there was an underlying motive for their visit which was not clear to me. Jonathan ¡ª who, if anyone was sane, it was he ¡ª seemed deeply troubled. His younger sister Gardena desired some response from her stories which I failed to give, and ¡­


    I shook my head. It made no sense.


    ¡°Is anything wrong?¡±


    I frowned. ¡°I had a conversation this afternoon which I¡¯m not sure how to interpret.¡±


    ¡°Ah, Miss Gardena Diamond.¡±


    I laughed.


    ¡°She often speaks in riddles. I often wonder if she has motives other than she states, so I guard my tongue when around her.¡±


    I considered the matter. ¡°That¡¯s probably wise. She is a Diamond, after all, no matter how pleasant.¡±


    Tony smiled. ¡°She is attractive,¡± he said, the sudden huskiness of his voice showing the truth, ¡°but ¡­ a man would despair were he to become attached to her. She is too changeable, too ¡­ too much the actress, and not enough the reality of life. I don¡¯t know how else to say it.¡±


    I nodded. It was a good description, actually.


    The alternative was that she was a tremendously good spy. No one would ever suspect a woman who acted as she did of being a spy.


    I leaned back, drained my glass, and poured another. This was a puzzle, and I always enjoyed them.


    But Tony put his hand over the glass. ¡°No more. We have sat talking for long enough. I would like to go to our bed-chambers.¡±


    I chuckled, noting the irony. Thinking of Gardena Diamond evidently stirred some passion in him.

 Chapter 1: The Jacq of Spades - Round 16: The Finesse

    In the morning, I opened the invitation Morton had given me the night before.


    Inside the invitation was a note:


    Mrs. Spadros,


    I presume you are alone while reading this. If not, do not show any level of surprise or alarm.


    Mrs. Helen Hart did invite you to a luncheon, but it is next week, and you have declined because of a prior engagement. She is neither alarmed nor unhappy by your decline; the invitation was a formality urged on her by her father-in-law.


    Since I don¡¯t know the outcome of our meeting tonight, I can¡¯t advise you further. If you require assistance tomorrow, travel to the Hart quadrant at the appropriate time and go to the Ladies¡¯ Club. Enter, but do not sign in. Ask directions to the boathouse and visit the gate to dock 36. A maid of your size will be there. She is deaf and mute, but reads lips, and will bring you to a place where you can exchange clothing.


    Interesting. He knew I changed clothes to perform my cases. Was he the man who followed me? No, I decided; the man I saw was much taller, more slender. Master Rainbow might be an excellent disguise artist, but no one could change their body to that degree.


    The invitation will allow you to cross the bridge into Hart quadrant. I trust you understand what should be done with this note.


    Your servant, BR


    I smiled at the last line: I was female, not stupid. I threw the note in the fire. Try deciphering that!


    Even without the note, and without having seen Helen Hart¡¯s writing before, I should know the handwriting was not hers. A bit heavy for a woman¡¯s. An excellent imitation, though: Morton was to be commended.


    Amelia came in with my tray, paper, and mail, and I had her pick out a luncheon dress for me. I asked her to choose a color many ladies were wearing, suitable for visiting another quadrant, that had a hat with a veil.


    She was very good at fashion; at first, I had chosen poorly and been reprimanded or embarrassed. Then Roy picked Amelia for my lady¡¯s maid, and her understanding of such niceties came in handy at times.


    ¡°Will you be needing me to accompany you?¡±


    ¡°No, spend time with your family. I may be delayed past tea ¡ª I¡¯m not sure what Mrs. Hart has in mind for us!¡±


    Amelia smiled. ¡°It must be grand, going to luncheon parties and such.¡±


    I understood her feelings perfectly. ¡°It must seem that way, but these are not friends. The invitation was a way to show off their wealth and status, and I must take care with every move I make. One wrong word could cause a great deal of trouble.¡± I paused. ¡°It will be a tiring day.¡± Every word true, just not the way she took it to mean.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, mum. Of course, I don¡¯t understand your life the way you do.¡±


    ¡°I took no offense. I remember feeling as you do, until I saw the reality. There are trials with every form of life, they only differ in kind and severity.¡±


    ¡°Yes, mum. I¡¯ll go draw your bath now.¡±


    Of course, she didn¡¯t understand. Who wouldn¡¯t prefer jewels, lavish meals, your own carriage, and a maid to care for your every whim? What could possibly be wrong with that?


    I gazed out of the window at the overcast sky. Sometimes I wished I were back in the Pot. Even though survival hung on the edge, life was less complicated. How people felt about you was plain; their words, while harsh, were straightforward; and there was honor among those thieves.


    * * *


    The Bridges Daily held a surprising tale. A regulation was introduced to the city council overnight making it a crime for citizens to refuse to speak to the police, subject to a fine. If proof came later that they had knowledge of a crime, they could be jailed. The backer of the bill was Pike and Associates; it was introduced by an apprentice law clerk, Mr. Thrace Pike.


    I laughed. Mr. Pike¡¯s regulation would not make him popular, but the Diamonds would be quite pleased. More prison inmates meant more money for them.


    The Golden Bridges had as its top story:


    YOUNG MAN FOUND DEAD


    A body in the Diamond section of the under-tunnels on Market Center was identified as Stephen Rivers, age 15, of the Spadros quadrant. Master Rivers died of strangulation, says the coroner.


    The young man, involved with the Red Dogs street gang, was questioned earlier as part of an investigation into the disappearance of David Bryce, age 12. Master Bryce¡¯s brother, Herbert, age 16, was recently found strangled in the Diamond slums. Could the three crimes be related?


    I stared numbly at the portrait of the young man who so happily took my half-dollar. Did I send him to his death? I wondered if the man in brown who frightened him so caught up with him in the end.


    Stephen and Herbert. Both searched for David Bryce, and both strangled.


    Had they found David, and died for it? Did they discover some secret deemed important enough to kill in order to hide? Or did they run afoul of the scoundrel Tony¡¯s men described as loving nothing more than torment?


    Cold dread crept along my spine. What was I involved with?


    * * *


    Honor helped me out of my carriage in front of the Hart Ladies¡¯ Club, and stubborn woman that I am, I thanked him for it. ¡°Mrs. Hart will arrange my return, so you may enjoy the hospitality if you wish before returning home.¡±


    Each club had facilities for the coachmen while they waited for their personages to complete their business. I''d heard that the Hart quadrant amenities were quite good.


    He smiled. ¡°Thank you, mum.¡± Then he glanced at the sky, which as usual, was overcast. ¡°Wishing you good weather.¡±


    The Hart Ladies¡¯ Club had red doors edged with silver, and silver railings lined the brick steps. A man in red Hart livery with silver buttons and piping opened the door for me.


    I entered the expansive red-carpeted lobby. Another man in Hart livery stood behind a podium of red-painted wood. Behind him lay many tables set for luncheon, some with ladies dining. ¡°May I help you?¡±


    ¡°Would you direct me to the boathouse?¡±


    ¡°Certainly, mum. To your right, down the hall, then through the doors out to the docks. The boathouse is a brief walk, but straight on. Shall I call an escort?¡±


    ¡°No need. Thank you.¡± I gave him a big smile.


    He tipped his hat, cheeks reddening, and studied the papers he held.


    The walnut-paneled hall was inlaid with the Hart Family symbol ¡ª red, edged in silver. The glass doors at the end of the hall held the same symbol on them. A man in livery opened a door for me at the end of the hall.


    The walkway was smooth-cut, closely placed red brick, wide enough for groups of four to pass each other with room to spare, and lined with budding red roses on both sides. Silver-toned fencing stood to the right, far enough away so I saw just the tops of carriages passing by.


    We were well protected: the only goal or dream high-class women were allowed to have.


    The stories of women going on adventures seemed a myth of the far past, like the stories of travel to stars. Some said women even journeyed into the high aether.


    But they also spoke of other cities and other ways.


    One day, I would take the zeppelin, travel to other cities, experience these other ways of life.


    I glanced at a movement outside the fencing to my right. Had someone been watching me?


    I began walking faster, feeling uneasy.


    Docks appeared to my left, the roses parting at each silvered and numbered gate, with walnut-stained benches trimmed in silver across from them. I approached the boathouse and passed it, continuing on until I reached gate 36.


    A red-haired maid sat on the bench doing needlework, who smiled when she saw me.


    I followed her out onto the white wooden dock, which had white railings topped with silver at each support. At the end of the dock sat a white yacht with white sails.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Morton, or I should say, Blaze Rainbow, wearing a light brown yachting jacket and tan trousers, appeared on the deck. ¡°Welcome to the Finesse.¡±


    * * *


    I hesitated to step aboard a stranger¡¯s yacht without an escort, especially ¡ª and the thought chilled me ¡ª the yacht of a man who only wore brown. But the well-turned boat and the presence of the maid, Zia, won me over.


    He invited me indoors, offering me a seat in the oak-paneled cabin, which I accepted, and a drink, which I declined.


    I recalled my mother¡¯s instruction: ¡°Never take nothing, food nor drink, unless you trust the hand who gives it.¡± Those words probably saved me more than once. Even if I did trust Morton, a man who wore disguises and tried to grab me in an alley, I had neither the time nor the inclination to dally over drinks.


    ¡°Master Rainbow ¡ª¡±


    ¡°Please, call me Blaze.¡±


    ¡°Master Rainbow, I would like to express my condolences.¡±


    Morton blinked, as if surprised. ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    I glanced behind me, but Zia gazed forward placidly. ¡°Stephen. I read about him in the paper.¡±


    Morton frowned and shook his head. ¡°How ¡­ Where did you come to meet him?¡±


    ¡°I fear I sent him to his doom. I asked him to look for the boy, and now he¡¯s dead.¡±


    Morton stared at the table for a moment, then shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s not your fault.¡±


    The boat creaked as we sat in silence.


    ¡°If you knew the boy was being held in that warehouse, why didn¡¯t you retrieve him?¡±


    Morton avoided my eye. ¡°The building was guarded; I was alone. I sent messages for help, but you were the first to arrive.¡±


    He obviously felt ashamed of his inability to rescue the boy. ¡°Master Rainbow, I appreciate your generous offer. If that offer still stands, I need transport to Market Center in such a way to neither attract notice of the Hart Family nor the attention of my servants, who are still on the premises.¡±


    He nodded, rose, stood pondering this for a moment, then exchanged gestures with the maid Zia.


    Morton''s plan was to travel directly across the river to the Clubb Men¡¯s Boathouse, then hire a carriage to Market Center.


    ¡°If you could bring me around to the Clubb Women¡¯s Center instead, I can make my way to Market Center from there without your help. If that is acceptable, we can proceed,¡± I said.


    The two spoke in their hand language again. Morton said, ¡°I don¡¯t have a berth at the Clubb Women¡¯s Center, but I can leave you at the pier.¡±


    ¡°That would be quite satisfactory.¡±


    After Zia and Morton cast off, Morton took the wheel, moving the boat into the river. He turned the boat to the left, to sail around the Clubb Pot. Then we passed the stubs of ancient bridges which used to connect the old downtown areas of the Pot.


    The Opposition dynamited all four of those bridges at the start of the Alcatraz Coup 100 years ago. They say the destruction kept the Kerr loyalists from reinforcing, but it seemed a pity.


    We rode to the Women¡¯s Center in silence, and I bade Morton and Zia farewell at the pier. Morton¡¯s eyes seemed haunted, as if Stephen¡¯s death hadn¡¯t felt real until then.


    The Clubb Women¡¯s Center¡¯s pier, railings, and benches were beautiful polished oak, the wood trimmed in brass. Yellow roses lined the walkways, and the glass doors bore the Clubb Family symbol. I walked down an oak-paneled hall carpeted in gold to a podium like the one in the Hart Ladies¡¯ Club, painted yellow.


    I descended the gold-carpeted, polished oak steps. To my surprise, Mrs. Regina Clubb came up the other side, followed by two of Regina¡¯s many granddaughters.


    ¡°Why, Mrs. Spadros!¡± Regina Clubb said. ¡°How did you ¡ª I mean, how are you?¡±


    Ah, so she kept notes on me. ¡°I¡¯m quite well, and you?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re well, thank you. I was bringing the girls here for luncheon, and we were delayed.¡±


    ¡°I won¡¯t keep you then.¡± I curtsied smoothly, feeling glad to have an excuse not to chat. ¡°Have a wonderful time.¡± I continued down the steps, passing by her oak carriage trimmed in brass and its beautiful gold champagne horses.


    Mrs. Clubb called, ¡°You too!¡±


    A full stagecoach passed, with ¡°Casino Tours¡± marked on its side, and I smiled.


    Around the corner, I found a taxi-carriage to bring me to the Plaza at Market Center. Clubb quadrant¡¯s lamp-posts were tipped with brass, as were their public banisters and street signs. The storefronts were all polished oak; the cobbles and walkways, made of sandstone.


    As I rode along, I imagined Regina Clubb was wringing her brains like an old dishcloth trying to deduce how I got past her checkpoints.


    * * *


    When I alighted from the taxi-carriage, I saw two people I never expected to see. ¡°Good afternoon.¡±


    ¡°Why, Mrs. Spadros,¡± Thrace Pike said, color rising in his cheeks. He wore the same threadbare brown suit, and did not meet my eye. ¡°A pleasure to see you. Let me introduce you to my wife Gertie.¡±


    The stout woman who spoke at the tent meeting wore the same gray dress, but she looked better in the light of day, especially when she smiled. ¡°Nice to meet you, mum.¡±


    This dress surfaced every few years due to the Cultural Correctness Committee¡¯s insistence that women actually wore the thing. No matter how often the CCC brought out historical documents and exhorted the populace, the dresses languished on racks and ended up at poorhouse sales.


    Gertie Pike had a wide face and lank blonde hair. Her teeth, uneven, her eyes, too close together. But she moved like a woman in love, and seemed quite taken with her child.


    I came round to look in their pram. Fortunately, the child took after its father. ¡°You have a lovely baby.¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± Gertie said, blushing.


    ¡°Congratulations on your new position, Mr. Pike.¡±


    Thrace Pike looked startled. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    Gertie said, ¡°It¡¯s so wonderful; the rooms for law clerks with family are much nicer than ours before.¡±


    Her finger missed its ring too. Hard times indeed, if those dank sunless servant quarters seemed so much better than their previous ones. ¡°How lovely for you.¡±


    Thrace Pike didn¡¯t meet my eye.


    I smiled. ¡°It was nice seeing you. Have a fine afternoon.¡±


    The poor lambs. So the stories ran true.


    The Bridgers had many odd practices; the oddest, the way they arranged their marriages. Rumor had it that each chose the person they found the least attractive physically, so their relationship grew free from the distractions of lust.


    It seemed a disaster waiting to happen, but I never once heard of a divorce amongst the Bridgers.


    I was almost to the carriage-house when I heard feet running up from behind. A girl appeared beside me, hat in hand, auburn hair flying.


    ¡°It is you!¡± Katherine said. ¡°I knew it was you!¡±


    * * *


    I had a most unladylike expression in mind. ¡°Whatever are you doing here?¡±


    ¡°Mama and I were shopping, well, she is shopping and I was bored, so I asked if I could promenade the plaza, and Mama said yes, and then I saw you! So I had to come see you. What are you doing here? Tony said you were to luncheon with the Harts.¡±


    Hmm.


    I began walking again, and Katherine followed, putting her hat back on as she went.


    ¡°I was going to luncheon with the Harts, but I don¡¯t like them very much. They act as if I am not there.¡± I leaned over to speak in her ear, ¡°So I gave Honor the slip and came here instead.¡±


    Katherine clapped her hands. ¡°Splendid! We can have secret fun together.¡±


    ¡°Indeed, it must be secret, for Tony would be vexed if I didn¡¯t keep an invitation.¡±


    ¡°Tony needs a kick in his pants. He¡¯s much too far above himself. But I don¡¯t want you to be in trouble. I won¡¯t tell.¡±


    ¡°How long do we have before your Mama worries for you?¡±


    Katherine shrugged. ¡°I told her I was to promenade, but I go much faster than the rest. Probably another half-hour at least.¡±


    ¡°Very good. I want to see the carriages.¡±


    ¡°Hurray! I love horses. Daddy won¡¯t let me have my own.¡±


    ¡°The sooner we get there, the more we can see.¡±


    Katherine squealed with delight at seeing the stabled Hackneys. Soon the stable-man arrived, a middle aged fellow wearing a white shirt and brown cotton overalls, probably wondering at the noise. ¡°Can I help you, mum?¡±


    ¡°Yes. My friend and I rode in one of your carriages yesterday and she lost her mother¡¯s locket. Her mother just passed, so she is distraught. I told her I would look for it.¡±


    ¡°Do you remember the carriage-number?¡±


    ¡°Why no.¡± I felt dismayed. ¡°But the left wheel seemed unbalanced. In fact, I asked the driver to let us out early, because I feared for our safety.¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯ll be busted. So that¡¯s what it was all about.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°We had this one carriage stolen two days ago, then it reappeared last night. I thought it was kids, but it sounds like they was running a false taxi. Probably didn¡¯t realize the carriage was broke.¡± He walked off, and I followed. Then he turned back to me. ¡°Who all was driving?¡±


    ¡°Two gentlemen, one in brown, the other in white.¡±


    He shook his head. ¡°I knew those two were up to no good. Came skulking around, said they wanted to buy a carriage. When I told them they weren¡¯t for sale, they left, but something didn¡¯t feel right. I went on a walk-around and they were standing across the field back there smoking cigars.


    ¡°They didn¡¯t seem to be doing anything other than smoking so I went on my way ¡­ then when I went back a couple hours later, the carriage was gone.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°They didn¡¯t say who they were?¡±


    The man shrugged. ¡°The one in brown said his name was ¡­ something odd ¡­ he gave a card or I would have called the constable right off. I did call when the carriage went missing, and when it appeared, but they said the name on the card was fake.¡± He took a pile of business cards from his chest pocket and began sorting through them. ¡°You want to talk to the constable too?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± I took a step back. ¡°I don¡¯t want police involved; I¡¯m a quadrant-lady. Please, all I want is to look for my friend¡¯s locket.¡±


    ¡°Never you fear, mum, I¡¯ll help you.¡± He paused, then said, ¡°Here it is!¡± He fished out a card. ¡°Frank Pagliacci, it says ¡­ never heard a name like that before. The constable called on me this morning, said there¡¯s no one in Bridges registered by that name.¡± He glanced over at Katherine. ¡°You, girl, keep away from them horses. Stay with us.¡±


    ¡°But I like horses,¡± Katherine said.


    ¡°Yeah, well, they don¡¯t like you. They¡¯re not puppies, they¡¯re work animals. Come on, now, come along.¡±


    Katherine came along, pouting.


    The stable-man brought us to where the carriages were being repaired. A large, newly-mowed field of straw lay next to the repair area, and a stand of trees lay beyond that.


    ¡°That¡¯s the one.¡± I pointed at a carriage. ¡°See how the wheel is leaning?¡± It had a divot out of one wheel, just as the driver said.


    ¡°Well, good luck to you. If you need anything else just holler.¡±


    When the man had gone, I told Katherine, ¡°Keep watch, and tell me if anyone comes by.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± Katherine said.


    ¡°It¡¯s a game my Mama used to play with me. Tell me what you see, all the people who walk past, any birds, animals, everything. I¡¯ll tell you what I see, and whoever sees most wins.¡±


    ¡°You won¡¯t see anything inside that old thing.¡±


    ¡°Yes, well, it¡¯s true, you¡¯ll probably win. Let¡¯s play anyway; it¡¯ll help pass the time. Maybe I¡¯ll find my friend¡¯s locket, and maybe you¡¯ll see something good.¡±


    I opened the door to the carriage. From my handbag, I took out a cylindrical case, much like a tiny hat case, which held nested circles of brass and glass an inch in diameter and in height. I unfolded it by sliding the nested tubes so that it looked like a small spyglass, several inches long. When you turned it, the lenses gave magnification of a variable degree, to the thousandth power. The magnification spyglass cost a great deal. But it came to good use in cases like this.


    I inspected the door frame and the footplate. A white powder lay on the footplate and inside the door frame. When magnified, tan flecks lay in the powder.


    ¡°I see a red bird, and a string of ants,¡± Katherine said.


    ¡°What kind?¡±


    ¡°The little black ones.¡±


    ¡°I see brown carpeting.¡± I laid the spyglass aside, opened my handbag, and took out a small envelope which once held buttons. I also took out a stiff eyebrow brush, which I used to brush as much of the powder as I could into the envelope.


    Picking up my spyglass, I climbed into the carriage and examined the cushions. Several hairs lay there: brown straight hair and black hair; but not black and curled, as one might expect from a Diamond, but black and straight. Could these be David¡¯s? I took out a second envelope and put the hairs into it.


    ¡°I see a tabby cat.¡±


    ¡°I only see cushions. You¡¯re ahead!¡±


    A gray string lay on the floor of the carriage; I put it into the envelope with the hairs. Then I lifted the cushions, finding a penny but nothing more.


    I walked to the driver¡¯s area. A button lay on the floor of the foot rest: wooden, carved with an eagle¡¯s head, a wisp of brown thread attached to it. I put the button and thread into the envelope with the hairs.


    ¡°A boy is walking far off by the trees,¡± Katherine said.


    The mechanisms underneath the carriage were marvelous: springs and gears which made the ride perfectly smooth. They reminded me a bit of the mechanisms under the rusting steam automobiles back home. Air loved to look at them.


    I scanned the ground around the carriage, but found nothing. ¡°You win!¡± I folded the envelopes and the magnification spyglass and returned them to my handbag.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t find the locket?¡±


    I acted dejected. ¡°I don¡¯t see it anywhere.¡±


    ¡°Let me look.¡± She climbed all around. ¡°I don¡¯t see it either.¡±


    ¡°I bet she dropped it before we got in the carriage. I guess I¡¯ll have to go look there.¡± I smiled. ¡°Come, I¡¯ll get you a sugarplum.¡±

 Chapter 1: The Jacq of Spades - Round 17: The Encounter

    As it turned out, Katherine¡¯s treat cost a penny, and we parted ways, with another warning not to tell. She was so excited with our secret fun I thought she would either blurt out the whole affair or never tell a soul.


    Molly would see my being here as an escape. Roy would love the idea of insulting the Harts in this way. I would know whether Katherine was trustworthy.


    Perhaps I was beginning to think like Roy after all. I wasn¡¯t sure if this was a good development.


    I walked around the Plaza until I reached a storefront, with words engraved upon the front window in gold:


    Anna¡¯s Medicaments


    Potions, Medicines, And Salves Of All Sorts


    Supply To Hospitals And Clinics Our Specialty


    Anna Goren: an apothecary, the woman who packaged and sent my morning tea after it was formulated and sent to her. She supplied the physicians on Market Center and much of Bridges.


    Anna had brown skin and long brown hair which curled every which way, piled on top of her head in an untidy bundle. She wore a purple linen dress covered by a white cotton apron, and fussed about a room full of bottles, jars, and beakers, which were in turn full of pills, powders, and potions of all sorts.


    She glanced up when I entered. ¡°Mum Spadros! So good to see you! How can I help?¡±


    ¡°Would you look at these?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m ready to close for luncheon anyway.¡± She shut the door, locked it, and turned the sign to ¡°Closed.¡± Then we went to her back room, which was mostly taken up with testing equipment. Copper pipes with brass fittings came down the walls, leading to larger copper and glass cylinders with various labels. ¡°Whatcha got for me, dearie?¡±


    I took out the envelope with the powder in it and put the closed envelope in her hand. ¡°If you could tell me what this is, I would be most grateful.¡±


    She opened the envelope, peered into it, smelled the contents, then set up a row of glass tubes in a pine and brass holder, putting a bit of the powder into each. She held up what appeared to be a lorgnette-style opera-glass. The handle and frame was brass, and it had large black lenses. ¡°Shield your eyes.¡±


    I did so.


    Then she dropped a match into the first tube. A flash of white light and a familiar smell wafted forth. ¡°Just as I thought,¡± Anna said. ¡°Party Time.¡±


    * * *


    I ate luncheon with Anna at a small table in her back room as she did one test after another. She sat for a moment, took a bite of her sandwich, then said, ¡°Oh!¡± with her mouth full, jumping up to do another test.


    I laughed. ¡°You are like a Jack-in-the-box.¡±


    ¡°When I think of something, I must investigate! How else will I know?¡±


    Anna helped me more than once with strange substances I found while on cases, never asking for a cent. Her payment was to know, and to understand.


    ¡°I have it!¡± She flopped into her chair, a curl of her hair coming out of its bundle to fall beside her face. ¡°This particular Party Time,¡± she took a drink of her tea, ¡°is the sort found in a factory, before it is cut and sent to the distributors. The Party Time itself is pure!¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡±


    ¡°Yes, unadulterated by any chemical normally used before distribution. However, it contains wood chips. Party Time in bulk is often stored in barrels; I imagine that the barrel broke, and shards of wood got into the mix. Where did you find this?¡±


    ¡°On the floorboards of a stolen carriage.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± Anna said, as if that made everything clear. ¡°Dirt and shoe-polish and carpet-fiber mixed in. Now I understand!¡±


    ¡°Would you test these as well?¡± I opened my second envelope and handed her the threads. She snipped a tiny piece from each and lit them afire, then handed the larger portions back to me.


    ¡°The gray is wool; the brown is cotton. Both from a man¡¯s jacket, if I¡¯m not mistaken. A seamstress could tell you more.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re wonderful, Anna.¡± I planned to leave then, but recalled the Inventor¡¯s words.


    ¡°Is something wrong?¡±


    She wasn¡¯t an Inventor, nor did she ever work on the Magma Steam Generator that I knew of. But if anyone could find the solution to this, Anna could. ¡°I have a problem that perhaps you might have some insight into.¡± I explained to her the issue with the pilings and the Magma Steam Generator, as best I knew how.


    I had never seen her frown before. ¡°This is a serious problem. I will consider it carefully.¡±


    ¡°Why is it so serious? Can we not just use candles? Cut trees for warmth?¡±


    ¡°Oh, my dear girl,¡± she said, ¡°lights and heat are the least worry. This is no natural city; the whole of it is a construct, a mechanism. Its entirety, from the aperture to the river, runs on power. Life would be most unpleasant without it.¡±


    I had no idea. ¡°Can you help?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, dearie, but I will try my best.¡±


    ¡°Thank you for everything.¡± I glanced at her clock. ¡°I must go. I told Mr. Spadros I would be back for tea.¡±


    Anna smiled. ¡°Ah, yes, the husband. How happy that I was never burdened with one!¡± She came over, took my face in her hands, and kissed my forehead, as she always did. ¡°Off you go, my dear. Have a lovely evening.¡±


    I felt pleased for more than one reason. The Diamond Family had only one Party Time factory, disguised as a shoe polish factory. This must be where they held David. The factory did make shoe polish, but only to hide the barrels of Party Time behind in case the Feds came snooping.


    Some zeppelins carrying Agents had unfortunate accidents, one involving a surface-to-air missile. Now the Feds seemed to be afraid to enter the city. Even though Party Time was illegal, the courts were mostly bought, and half the police were on it themselves, so not even they wanted the Feds around. If it weren¡¯t for the Bridgers ¡ª and of course, the Families ¡ª Party Time wouldn¡¯t be illegal at all.


    I tried Party Time once ¡ª it felt a bit like being drunk, without having to down a few bottles to get there. Despite its frivolous name, Party Time made the Spadros Family a fortune: production, distribution, and marketing of Party Time in the Spadros quadrant was at an all-time high. Tony¡¯s father Roy planned to expand our territory outside the boundaries of Bridges itself.


    But the Diamonds didn¡¯t make much Party Time themselves. Since they controlled the prison, they preferred to push for harsh sentencing of those hapless souls caught with Party Time and without a big enough bribe (or good enough Family connections) to escape. Then they charged the prisoner¡¯s quadrant a fortune for care and upkeep. It was a sweet set-up.


    A ball came across my path, and a small boy ran to fetch it. I squatted to pick the ball up. ¡°Here you are.¡±


    A young woman with light brown skin and blonde curls came up.¡± Tell the nice lady thank you, Master Roland.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± The boy was exquisite: brown skin, black eyes, black ringlet curls, a beautiful smile. He reminded me of someone.


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome.¡± I smiled. ¡°He¡¯s beautiful.¡±


    The woman beamed. ¡°And such a good child, too.¡±


    This must be his nanny. I stood and put out my hand. ¡°Jacqueline Spadros.¡±


    She took my hand and curtsied. ¡°Octavia Diamond, mum, so nice to meet you.¡± She beckoned to the boy. ¡°Come along, Master Roland, it¡¯s time to go home. Let¡¯s see if Miss Bessie has had her calf yet.¡±


    ¡°Hurray!¡± The little one skipped along beside her, and they held hands as they went.


    * * *


    On the way home, I stopped at Madame Biltcliffe¡¯s dress shop. Several well-dressed women browsed the wares, none of whom I recognized. Madame was returning a roll of cloth to its rack when I entered. She glanced up, surprise on her face. ¡°Mrs. Spadros ¡ª!¡±


    The women turned to me and curtsied.


    ¡°¡ª How can I help you?¡±


    I smiled. ¡°I stopped by to ask about some cloth I saw in another shop. I would love a dress made of it.¡±


    The other women turned back to their browsing. Madame came over and took my arm. ¡°Wonderful! Come to my office.¡±


    We went to her office, and she took a ring of keys from her waistband and unlocked it. Her office smelled freshly painted, and the window was new. She must have noticed my puzzlement. ¡°Ah!¡± She put her hand to her forehead. ¡°I am forgetting to tell you. Never have so many customers been here! Before the New Year, someone broke the window and came in.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    She nodded, closing the door. ¡°The place, it was a mess!¡±


    ¡°Was anything missing?¡±


    ¡°Not a thing.¡±


    ¡°Did you contact the police?¡±


    She laughed. ¡°I have been in Bridges long enough to know those results. Scandal for you, and policeman after policeman asking for money ¡®to speed investigations.¡¯¡± She shook her head with a smile. ¡°The window had a crack; it needed changing. So it¡¯s done, with less bother.¡±


    I showed her the threads and button. ¡°Yes, your friend is right, from a man¡¯s jacket. I would say, hmm, five years old? This button company no longer does business.¡±


    Ah. Interesting. I took up the items and went to the door, opening it. ¡°Thank you, Madame, you¡¯ve been very helpful!¡±


    ¡°A pleasure, Mrs. Spadros. I¡¯ll order the cloth for you at once.¡±


    Clever woman, indeed.


    During the taxi-carriage ride home, I thought about the button. I should have asked Madame what company made it. But a jacket maker who wished to economize, with clientele on a limited budget, might use older buttons for quite some time. I would have to investigate this later.


    Why would someone break into Madame¡¯s office, then take nothing? I wasn¡¯t sure what information of value she might have there. Measurements?


    Yet another item which made no sense. I put it aside.


    I exited the taxi-carriage a few blocks away from home so no one would see I didn¡¯t arrive in a Hart carriage, and considered my plan as I walked.


    I needed to learn the precise location of the Diamond Party Time factory, then obtain a set of blueprints. This meant a trip to the Records Hall on Market Center. The most difficult part would be to learn whether David still remained at the factory.


    But that could wait for later.


    I joined Tony in his study for tea.


    He seemed anxious. ¡°How was your luncheon?¡±


    ¡°Wonderful!¡± I remembered my time with Anna. ¡°I had a lovely time.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m so glad.¡± Tony sounded relieved.


    ¡°Did your day go well?¡±


    ¡°Quite. The quarterly reports were ready. We took in over $3,000 during Yuletide.¡±


    I stared at him in shock, remembering the night long ago where I was captured for the promise of a dollar.


    Damn my father ¡ª I never did get that dollar.


    ¡°I felt surprised myself. But I suppose all those pennies at the roulette tables and slot machines add up.¡±


    Why would anyone throw their money at the slim chance to win more? It seemed a foolish luxury.


    ¡°You seem distracted,¡± Tony said.


    Hmm. What to tell him ¡­ ¡°I heard an unusual name today. Have you ever heard of a gentleman named Frank Pagliacci?¡±


    Tony shook his head. ¡°Doesn¡¯t sound familiar. Could be one of the new families over in the Clubb quadrant. I read in the newspaper the other day about the trials of people who move to Bridges from other cities.¡±


    The article seemed frivolous, but Tony enjoyed such things, especially involving the upper classes. ¡°Is it so different there?¡±


    Tony shrugged. ¡°Depends on the city. Customs are different, wherever you go.¡±


    Mrs. Bryce spoke of debtors¡¯ prison. Depending on who you owed, you might be shot, but thrown into prison? It seemed a poor way to get your money back.


    ¡°Perhaps you might not like to answer right away, having just returned, but I¡¯d like to visit City Hall.¡±


    I almost laughed. The Records Hall, exactly where I needed to go, was next door to City Hall.


    ¡°We¡¯re going to remodel the casino, and I need to speak with the officials there.¡± He paused for several seconds then shook his head. ¡°No, I should never have asked ¡­ it will take much of the day ¡­ and will be much too tedious ¡­¡±


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    ¡°No! I would love to go.¡±


    Tony seemed surprised. ¡°I had no idea you enjoyed the place.¡±


    Those offices were dreary, but this was a perfect opportunity to find the blueprints to the Diamond Party Time factory.


    Thinking of the Diamonds reminded me of the article about the new regulation, and I mentioned it to Tony.


    ¡°I hadn¡¯t noticed it. The Diamonds must be very pleased.¡±


    I chuckled. ¡°My thoughts exactly. But what an opportunity to win the favor of our people. ¡°


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Pay the fines for anyone caught up in this law. This will encourage them to tell us of any police harassment, and make them love us more.¡±


    Tony beamed at me. ¡°I have such a brilliant wife. I¡¯ll have the men pass the word.¡±


    Doubtless leaving out that it was my idea, but no matter. In that, I was like Anna. I delighted in having worthwhile ideas more than receiving praise for them. ¡°If we¡¯re lucky, the other Families won¡¯t consider this for a while. We might even gain ground.¡±


    Tony became quite excited at that prospect, and took out paper and pen, making notes there at the table on how to make best use of this scheme.


    Almost as if this whole thing were a game.


    At least it was better to win ground by making the people love us than by violence in the streets. ¡°When did you plan to visit City Hall?¡±


    Tony put his pen down and sighed. ¡°I got word right before you arrived. The Clubbs have put a carriage-search on everyone going in and out of their quadrant.¡±


    I stared at him in shock. ¡°What?¡±


    He nodded. ¡°So of course, all the other families are doing the same, and putting watchers on the river, in case this is a ploy to distract us from a Clubb attack. The lines going into and out of Market Center will be horrendous.¡±


    ¡°Whatever could have caused them to do that?¡±


    Tony shook his head. ¡°The Clubbs are secretive. It could be their granddaughter Calcutta running off again, for all we know.¡±


    I doubted that. The look on Regina Clubb¡¯s face when she saw me ¡­ ¡°Well, I have nothing planned tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°We should leave as early in the day as possible, after morning meeting, perhaps, and have luncheon on Market.¡±


    The next day, after a long wait to cross the bridge to Market Center, we reached City Hall. Tony told the coachmen to stay on the island and gave them leave to visit the tavern. ¡°You may put your drinks and luncheon on our tab.¡±


    I glanced back as we went to the building steps, and Honor tipped his hat. I felt touched by his thanks.


    Tony didn¡¯t look back once.


    Gardena was right. I wasn¡¯t a Spadros, not really.


    Tony reached into his breast pocket, retrieving a long list of what he needed and who he must see today. I felt certain I could find what I needed while he was occupied.


    The Hall had white walls with thick, dark wood borders around each of its equally dark doors. A floor of black tile led to a set of black wooden stairs with black banisters, edged in brass. We climbed to the fourth floor, and went to a door marked, ¡°Permits.¡±


    I turned to Tony. ¡°I¡¯d like to view the paintings here and in the Records Hall while you¡¯re engaged. Shall we meet in front?¡±


    ¡°Certainly. In an hour, for luncheon?¡±


    Was it noon already? As if in answer, the clock tower began its chiming. I nodded.


    I waited until he went inside. I then descended four flights of stairs, hurried outside, and walked over to the Records Hall.


    On the inside it looked identical to City Hall. The map room on the second floor held an ancient brown-skinned man with white-glazed eyes behind a black marble slab desk. ¡°May I help you, miss?¡± A three-year-old boy played with dolls on the floor in the corner.


    ¡°I¡¯d like to see a map of the city.¡± I pitched my voice like that of a young girl¡¯s and attempted Mrs. Bryce¡¯s accent. If the old man thought I was young, he might let me see more.


    ¡°Come, come this way.¡±


    We went down a long hall to an archway. The huge room beyond was full of brown wooden bookshelves. He crossed to the bookshelves, then turned left.


    He shuffled along with his right hand on the bookshelves until we came to an oak table with a huge book on it. The book was bound in dark green leather, which was cracked at the spine. Across from this table sat a small-scale map of the entire city.


    This map sat on a round table six feet wide, with a domed dust cover. The populated area was the size of a dinner plate; the rivers, the width of pencils; the island, a penny in the center. ¡°Maps of the whole city. What quadrant are you from?¡±


    ¡°Diamond. My mother and I just moved here. She¡¯s next door getting her permits.¡±


    ¡°Ah, yes.¡± The gold band on his left ring finger glinted as he turned pages one by one. ¡°These pages show the city quadrants, or you can look at the whole city, with the countryside and all, over at the dome-table.¡± He gazed through me. ¡°You look as long as you like. If you need anything else, let me know.¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes. I almost forgot. I promised my mother I would draw for her.¡± I saw the factory at once, with the number 3123/67, and a building near it. ¡°Where might I find the blueprint area? She needs to rebuild ¡­¡± What was the name? I peered at the ancient map. ¡°The Omaha building. I¡¯m to make a copy.¡±


    ¡°Right this way.¡± He shuffled along the long row of ancient books. At the end of the row, he turned, his arm out. Five stacks down, he turned right, into a row of black-bound volumes. ¡°It¡¯s not often we get newcomers to Diamond. I was born there in Diamond, way back when old Caesar Diamond and his pack was shooting up the area, back in Eighteen and Twenty-Seven.¡± The old man cackled. ¡°Big Cassino and the Beer Card Boys, that¡¯s what his men called themselves. You ever hear of them?¡±


    ¡°No, sir.¡± A newcomer wouldn¡¯t know about them.


    ¡°I remember running after their carriages as a lad, when they rooted out the Wheelcard Gang. Those was exciting days.¡±


    He moved along, his hand running across the books. ¡°Here we go, Plat 3123/66, the Omaha building. All the blueprints you need.¡± He took out the book, shuffled back the way we came, and set it on a large table. A row of quills and inkwells sat in the center. ¡°The paper for your copies is there.¡± He pointed to a shelf past the table.


    ¡°Thank you, sir.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s what I¡¯m here for.¡± A bell rang, far out front. ¡°Let me know if you need anything else.¡±


    He shuffled off. Once he was out of sight and sound, I hurried back, got out the book for the factory, took it to the table, and scanned through the pages, listening for the old man¡¯s return.


    I pulled a small notebook from my handbag and made notes and drawings.


    Canisters of materials ¡­ supply rooms ¡­


    Entryways ¡­ front, back, side ¡­


    Locker rooms ¡­


    Various levels ¡­ the layout of the building ¡­


    The basement ¡­ where the boy was kept. The most likely place, anyway.


    I heard brisk footsteps, from far down the hall and around the corner, coming closer. Not the old man¡¯s.


    I returned the factory blueprint book to its place and myself to the table, but intuition told me not to stay there. I hid behind the bookcase just in time. Jack Diamond¡¯s shaved head peered around the corner with a concerned, inquisitive expression on his face. He looked so much like his twin brother Jonathan that for an instant I forgot to be afraid.


    What could Jack possibly be doing here?


    ¡°You¡¯re sure?¡± Jack said. The old man¡¯s shuffling footsteps came closer.


    Alarmed, I hurried to the end of the first set of stacks, across an aisle, then past another long set, looking for an exit, but there was none. A short, thick bookcase of oak-stained wood with more quills and paper blocked my path, and I crouched behind it.


    ¡°Yes, sir, she was right over there at the table. She pretended to be a girl, but my eyes ain¡¯t that bad, sir. A full tall woman she was, wearing red like all the ladies are these days, and one of them feather hats. Something didn¡¯t seem right.¡±


    The footsteps began to move to the table, which would put them in view.


    I needed a distraction. I took off my hat, which held two feathers in it, and pulled one of the feathers off, sticking it in the books so its top peeked up past the edge. Then I put my hat back on and moved out of sight.


    ¡°Any idea who she was?¡±


    ¡°No. She said she was new to Bridges, just moved into Diamond. Her accent was a bit like from Dickens ¡­ but her coloring, she looked like a Hart to me. And she knew the Omaha building. Most everyone in Diamond calls it the Smith building, on account of the bank that was there before your daddy shot Mr. Plafond Smith dead back in ¡®87. No one¡¯s called it the Omaha since the Bloody Year,¡± he gave a short laugh, ¡°long before you were born. The Harts captured that part for a while there.¡±


    Oh, no. No wonder he became alarmed.


    ¡°Well, isn¡¯t that an old book? She could have just read the name off the page.¡± Jack chuckled. ¡°We¡¯re not in the old days anymore, Swan. There¡¯s going to be outsiders here.¡±


    ¡°I suppose you¡¯re right, sir, but I didn¡¯t want to take chances. Not with all that¡¯s going on.¡±


    ¡°You did right. Lucky I was next door.¡±


    ¡°I smell her, she went this way.¡± Swan shuffled along my trail.


    I was gathering my skirts to move on when Jack said:


    ¡°What book is this? It was out farther than the others.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the Mayer building, sir, right next to the Smith one. It¡¯s gonna be tore down soon.¡±


    I took off my hat again and peered between the top of the books. Jack stood frowning, book in hand. On his small finger, a silver ring with a clear stone glinted. ¡°What could she have possibly wanted with this?¡± Then he glanced my way. ¡°Look!¡± He patted Swan¡¯s arm. ¡°There she is!¡± He rushed towards me.


    I glanced to my right, appalled. I forgot about the feather! Gathering my skirts, I crawled along the long thick bookcase until I reached its end. I hurried past the gap to the bookcases just in time to avoid him, and was hidden by the bookcases between us.


    I heard whispering at the far end, then, ¡°Got you!¡± A sound as if someone leapt forward, then, ¡°Damn!¡± A pause, then Jack let out an exuberant, approving laugh. ¡°She¡¯s tricky!¡±


    Swan laughed. ¡°Most are, sir.¡±


    I rushed on tiptoe to the archway. Jack¡¯s voice came from the far end of the stacks, ¡°Hey!¡±


    I heard the click of Jack¡¯s white patent-leather shoes coming towards me as I fled the map area, panting. I ran down the hallway past the little boy, who waved at me and giggled.


    I hurried down the stairs, through the front lobby and out the front doors, putting on my hat as I pushed past a host of ladies wearing various shades of red.


    I forced myself to walk down the front steps, heart pounding. Just before the last step, I glanced back.


    Jack opened the front door, peering around as the sun broke through the clouds. I turned my head so he wouldn¡¯t see my face ¡­ and immediately bumped into someone.


    ¡°My apologies!¡± the man said.


    ¡°Master Blaze Rainbow.¡± I kept my back to the door as people streamed past us. Clouds darkened the sky.


    He took a step backwards, off the stairs. ¡°Mrs. Jacqueline Spadros. Fancy meeting you here!¡±


    I glanced at the door; Jack Diamond was gone. I took a deep breath and forced myself to smile. ¡°A pleasure to see you again.¡±


    ¡°A pleasure to see you too! What are you doing here?¡±


    ¡°My husband is at City Hall, so I thought I would amuse myself by looking at the paintings in the lobbies.¡± I stepped off of the stairs and moved around the corner towards City Hall.


    Morton followed. ¡°So what did you think?¡±


    ¡°Dreadful. Most disappointing.¡± They truly were, unless new ones appeared since the last time I viewed them.


    He moved beside me. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to hear that. Did you happen to visit any offices while you were here?¡±


    ¡°Why, Master Rainbow, I would almost think you were garnering information. But a gentleman like yourself would never be so crass.¡±


    ¡°I have offended you.¡±


    ¡°Never. Rather, you have impressed me with your tenacity. I¡¯m sure it was no accident, us meeting here.¡± Clearly he had people notifying him of my whereabouts, which meant spies either at the Spadros bridge, or more likely here on Market Center.


    I changed my assessment of him: perhaps he was one of the men following me, either he or an associate.


    Morton tipped his hat. ¡°You¡¯re most perceptive, madam. Then do you now know where the boy is held?¡±


    I stopped in front of a large floral display, where we could be seen from neither the Records Hall nor City Hall, and faced him. ¡°I believe I do.¡±


    ¡°Would you be willing to share that information?¡±


    ¡°Why should I do that?¡±


    Morton looked exasperated. ¡°My employer will only pay me if I rescue the boy myself.¡±


    I smiled. ¡°You have an interesting dilemma.¡±


    ¡°As do you. The carriage-search. You can¡¯t get into the Diamond quadrant again unnoticed.¡±


    I hadn¡¯t considered that. ¡°Are we to take another ride in your yacht, then?¡±


    He smiled. ¡°You have given me the quadrant. I will give you a ride in return, but I must accompany you.¡±


    I felt irritated at myself. ¡°I might let you do that, for a percentage of your fee. But Zia must be aboard the yacht, and I will hire the carriage.¡± I didn¡¯t trust a man who grabbed women in alleys, and I certainly would not get into any carriage that he hired, maid or no maid. ¡°You¡¯ve already admitted my information has value.¡±


    He chuckled. ¡°Damnable woman,¡± he whispered. ¡°Very well, ten percent.¡±


    ¡°Sixty.¡±


    ¡°Twenty.¡±


    ¡°Fifty.¡±


    ¡°Thirty.¡±


    I felt amazed that the man bargained with me. ¡°Forty it is then.¡± He must have been either desperate or had no intention of giving me anything. At the time, I gave a fifty-fifty chance of the latter. ¡°When shall we take our adventure?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll send another invitation in the post tomorrow.¡±


    ¡°Splendid.¡± I gave him my hand, which he shook.


    Just then, Tony came walking up. ¡°Master Rainbow! So good to see you.¡±


    Morton gave Tony a handshake, and tipped his hat to me. ¡°A pleasure to see you as well.¡± He checked his pocket-watch. ¡°I¡¯m afraid, though, that I¡¯m late for an appointment ¡ª I must be off.¡± He moved down the street and disappeared into the crowd.


    ¡°What was that about? I saw you shake hands.¡±


    I chuckled. ¡°Apparently I made a fair impression upon Mrs. Helen Hart, and Master Rainbow has agreed to suggest another meeting with her.¡±


    ¡°Really? How kind of him. I¡¯m glad that you and Helen Hart are getting on so well. We should invite her to tea. I¡¯ve thought our families should become better friends.¡±


    I took Tony¡¯s arm as we strolled along past the Records Hall. ¡°Did you get your work done?¡±


    ¡°Most of it. One of the men I wished to see has fallen ill. I made an appointment with him for later this week.¡± It began to rain, and he opened his umbrella over us. ¡°But now, it is high time for luncheon.¡±


    While we ate, I thought about Jack Diamond, back in the map room. He sounded, acted ¡­ normal, even reasonable. But Gardena said Jack had his lucid days.


    I shuddered to think of such a horrible malady. But I couldn¡¯t let sympathy for Jack¡¯s plight cause me to let my guard down.


    When we returned home, I sent a note to Master Rainbow at the address on his card, asking him to arrange a meeting with Mrs. Helen Hart for tea at the Spadros Women¡¯s Club, which like the others, had a boathouse.


    I also sent notes to my contacts, inquiring after this Frank Pagliacci. I wished I had men of my own, as Tony did, to keep watch on Jack Diamond¡¯s whereabouts. That encounter was much too close.

 Chapter 1: The Jacq of Spades - Round 18: The Question

    After dinner, Tony read in his study by the fire, while I sipped sherry and thought.


    There were too many questions.


    Why were people so interested in my activities? Morton practically confessed to following me. Mrs. Clubb had lookouts for me. Jack had the map room watched.


    Although ¡­ Jack Diamond didn¡¯t know it was I in his map room, or he wouldn¡¯t have stopped searching so soon.


    I smiled, wondering what he did think. Some woman from Hart quadrant sneaking around, pretending to be an outsider, asking about a building next to his Party Time factory.


    Oh, dear. Sooner or later he''d make the connection. I hoped Jack didn¡¯t increase the guards around the factory.


    Having the blueprints would help a great deal. But even assuming Morton was serious about accompanying me, we knew nothing about the guards and their number.


    These blueprints fascinated me, yet I knew nothing about the mechanisms they held. This led me to a second question, which perhaps Tony might answer. ¡°How is Party Time made?¡±


    ¡°Hmm? Oh, it¡¯s a series of chemical steps.¡± Tony put a bookmark in his book, then went to his desk for paper, taking a fountain pen from his vest pocket. ¡°It begins as a plant: its leaves are crushed and treated.¡± Using his book as a base to write upon, he began to draw, and I peered over his shoulder in excitement.


    But he began speaking of things I didn¡¯t understand. He drew lines and letters as he talked, making many shapes, and arrows which went from one shape to another. I wanted to know, so I felt discouraged and frustrated at not understanding his words, which gave me little insight. Neither Roy nor Molly gave me this information, or even knowledge of the notations Tony made.


    ¡°I¡¯m impressed with your knowledge.¡± I felt mortified by my ignorance of something so vital to the Business. Perhaps Roy considered a Pot rag too ignorant to learn this.


    My eyes stung at that thought, but I took a deep breath and forced the feelings away, keeping my voice light. ¡°It looks quite complicated.¡±


    Tony put the paper aside, then capped his pen and returned it to his vest pocket. ¡°I¡¯ve never made it myself, but I must know how it¡¯s made, so I can oversee the workers and give advice if needed.¡± He paused for several seconds. ¡°A few of these reagents can be explosive if mixed in large amounts.¡±


    ¡°Why do you mention that?¡±


    ¡°If the men who attacked intended to kill me, they could have set the factory to explode when we entered. Or shoot me in that ambush, now that I think of it. Six men, aiming at me ¡­ one of those bullets would have hit true.¡±


    I felt horrified. ¡°So why attack with pipes instead?¡±


    ¡°That is the question. To distract us?¡±


    To distract us. From what? What were they really doing?


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    The fire crackled. It struck me how quiet Roy had been these past weeks. ¡°What has your father been doing?¡±


    ¡°I sent him to find our missing guards,¡± Tony said, ¡°with strict instructions to torture no one, but to bring any suspects to me.¡±


    My heart began pounding in fear at the prospect of speaking to Roy in that manner. ¡°You have courage.¡±


    Tony shook his head. ¡°I almost died the other day.¡± He paused, then spoke slowly, gazing at the floor. ¡°I can no longer allow my life to toss in the wind, as if I had all eternity.¡±


    He straightened, staring straight ahead. ¡°And I refuse to be dictated to by a man who holds neither love nor respect for me, but enjoys finding ways to cause me pain.¡± He turned to me with determination in his eyes. ¡°If my father wants me to become his heir, he must pay me heed. Otherwise I will take you and leave Bridges, and he can find another heir. I will no longer be treated like a child in my own home.¡±


    Tony risked his life ¡­ confronted Roy Spadros ¡­ for us?


    A burden lifted from my heart, and I felt as if I saw my husband for the first time. Tony was no longer a boy frightened of his father, who I must protect out of fear for his life. Somehow, without my knowing it, he became a man, with the strength to stand up to a man who terrified an entire city.


    I took his face in my hands and kissed him, my heart full. Then I gazed into his eyes; this was the first time I felt real love for him. ¡°I have never felt such pride in you. You are truly a man worthy of respect.¡±


    Tony took my hands and drew me to sit upon his lap, and this night, I don¡¯t recall thinking of Joseph Kerr once.


    * * *


    When I woke, I regretted that. I felt I had betrayed Joe.


    It made no rational sense. Yet I wasn¡¯t happy. Joe wasn¡¯t happy: I could see it in his eyes.


    I didn¡¯t want to love Tony.


    I never wanted to love Tony, and when the servants left me alone for a moment, I wept in frustration at the cage I was in through no fault of my own.


    Why couldn¡¯t Tony be repulsive, or cruel, or evil? Why couldn¡¯t I hate him for what his father had done to me?


    * * *


    There were two notes in my mail. The first read:


    Mrs. Helen Hart presents her compliments to Mrs. Spadros, and will have much pleasure in accepting her kind invitation to luncheon at the Spadros Women¡¯s Club on the 30th of January.


    Which was two days from now.


    The note was, again, not quite Mrs. Hart¡¯s writing, so I took it to be from Morton and Zia.


    The second note had no return address and read:


    Dock 21


    This appeared to be in Morton¡¯s handwriting, on the same paper as the first note. I put the notes in my dresser and locked it, then returned to my seat and pretended to read the newspaper.


    So we were to rescue David Bryce, if possible, in two days.


    This was bigger than any case I had ever done, and much more dangerous. I took a deep breath and put the paper down, trying to stop my hands from shaking.


    Morton planned to sail across the river to the Diamond quadrant. Putting on Zia¡¯s uniform would be a good disguise. Getting to the Party Time plant would be easy, once I was in the Diamond quadrant proper. Getting into the plant itself would be more difficult.


    David Bryce might be injured, or afraid, and we had not met since he was two years old. How might I win the child¡¯s trust? How would I get him out of the building if he couldn¡¯t walk? What doctor could I bring him to ¡ª if he needed medical attention ¡ª that would be discreet? What would I say to Mrs. Bryce if he were dead, or so badly hurt that his life was in question?


    Not knowing Morton¡¯s true motive frightened me. Could I trust he merely wanted to rescue the boy? What if his goal was to put me in a compromising situation?


    Jacqueline Spadros, captured infiltrating the Diamond Party Time plant. That would send ripples through the city even Roy wouldn¡¯t be able to solve.


    ¡°Your bath is ready,¡± Amelia said.


    I let Amelia undress me. ¡°Do you remember the first time I was brought here?¡± Amelia was a scullery maid then; I suppose she never thought she would rise so far.


    ¡°Yes, mum.¡±


    ¡°I had never taken a bath. I thought you tried to drown me.¡±


    Amelia¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Well, that explains why you fought.¡±


    It was a revelation: I fought, and I was right to. This made me feel strong.

 Chapter 1: The Jacq of Spades - Round 19: The Traitors

    During luncheon, Tony said, ¡°My appointment with the man at the Records Hall is day after tomorrow. Would you like to accompany me?¡±


    ¡°Mrs. Hart and I will be having luncheon that day.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± He sounded disappointed. He seemed very much like Katherine then.


    ¡°There will be other times.¡±


    ¡°Well, yes,¡± he said. ¡°Will you be having luncheon here, then?¡±


    The Harts had never come to Spadros Manor, as far as I knew, refusing every invitation. This I found odd. Even if they despised me, to refuse Tony¡¯s invitations could be construed as an insult. ¡°No, we¡¯ll be meeting at the Women¡¯s Club.¡±


    Tony nodded. ¡°Probably for the best.¡±


    I glanced at the servants, who were pointedly not watching us, and decided to save the obvious question for another time.


    I pondered our conversation the night before, and the question left unanswered. Was the attack on Tony a distraction? A distraction from what?


    The boy and the men, held in the same place. What was the connection? Who was Frank Pagliacci, and what was his connection to Jack Diamond? To hear the stable-man tell it, Frank Pagliacci was in charge. I knew little of Jack, other than what Jonathan and Gardena told me and what I observed. But Jack Diamond didn¡¯t seem like a man who allowed another to command him, even in pretense.


    Tony said, ¡°Would you like to go for a stroll?¡±


    I didn¡¯t, really, but I had no reason not to. ¡°Of course.¡±


    We walked through our garden, past the flower mounds Gardena plucked from, and around again. The days seemed ever overcast, the sun a pale ball in the sky, when we saw it. ¡°Do you feel the weather has worsened since we were children? It seems to continually threaten rain of late.¡±


    ¡°What troubles you?¡± Tony said.


    I shook my head. ¡°Nothing.¡±


    ¡°Forgive me, then, but it seemed at luncheon ¡­¡±


    I went back over my train of thought, and much of it, I couldn¡¯t talk with Tony about. ¡°Oh! I was thinking of the Harts. Why do they refuse our invitations to visit? It seems rather rude.¡±


    Tony chuckled. ¡°Yes it does ¡­ but I¡¯m sure they have their reasons. My guess is they don¡¯t wish to be accosted by my father.¡±


    I laughed. ¡°I hadn¡¯t considered that!¡± I didn¡¯t want to see Roy either. I felt glad Tony banned him from appearing uninvited.


    We walked on for a while in silence. ¡°Last night, you said perhaps this attack was meant to distract you.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Tony said, ¡°but I can¡¯t think of from what.¡±


    I had a sudden thought: what if the attack was to distract me?


    ¡°What is it?¡± Tony said.


    ¡°It occurred to me that we may be viewing this the wrong way. What if these events have been meant to test us? Our defenses, our information sources, our thought processes, our methods of attack. How the Business functions with you incapacitated. Who we trust and who we do not.¡±


    A prelude to something else?


    ¡°Wake up,¡± Tony said. ¡°I never considered this. A spy. An Associate?¡±


    ¡°That, spies in our household,¡± I said, ¡°or a spy amongst your main men.¡±


    ¡°Or all three,¡± Tony said. He turned, hurrying to the house, and I followed far behind. Who might fall into all three of those categories? Pearson came to greet him, they exchanged words, and both went inside.


    When I entered the house, all was a-flurry. Tony seemed a different man, giving orders in a firm voice, too low to hear unless you stood nearby.


    I remained a few paces away, watching as he spoke with one of his men after another. He turned and gave me his hand. ¡°Come with me.¡±


    We went into his study. He closed the door behind us, and took my hands in his. ¡°You see things I do not. My father was right to trust you.¡±


    I stood in shock. Did this mean Tony hadn¡¯t trusted me until now? I could sleep with a man I didn¡¯t love, but surely you couldn¡¯t sleep next to someone you didn¡¯t trust.


    Tony brought me to the chairs by the fire and we sat. ¡°I have felt uneasy since my men were rescued. I¡¯m having them brought here to account for themselves. Never fear; they will be bound. Don¡¯t speak; I would like you to listen and watch. Tell me what you see.¡±


    I nodded, feeling nervous about this.


    Tony rang for Pearson. We ordered drinks, and I asked for my cigarettes.


    The reports of his men recounting their journey in a carriage together yet ending up at different places had bothered me. At the time, I blamed faulty memories of the situation.


    Pearson returned with our drinks on a silver tray, which he tucked under his arm as he lit my cigarette.


    ¡°Thank you, Pearson,¡± I said.


    He bowed and left.


    Tony smiled at me. ¡°Thank you for being here.¡±


    I squeezed his hand, my heart too full to speak. Whether he trusted me before no longer mattered. He did now, and this meant a great deal.


    A few moments later, a knock came at the door. Tony let go of my hand. ¡°Come in.¡±


    Four of his men dragged in two men who were bound hands and feet, with hoods on. These men they placed on their knees, and removed the hoods. They were blindfolded and gagged. These men were young, perhaps younger than Tony and I. Both had light skin and brown hair but one was taller and painfully thin. I didn¡¯t know them; with the blindfolds on it was difficult to tell who they were in any case.


    Tony said, ¡°You betrayed me, of that I¡¯m sure. I don¡¯t wish to turn you and your families over to my father yet, so I will give you a chance to confess. The first one to do so will live.¡±


    I immediately saw the error in Tony¡¯s plan, but I thought better of speaking, especially in front of his men.


    Tony gestured; two of his men took the man on the right away, who struggled and made urgent noises, while a third followed, opening and closing the door for them.


    The man remaining was the thinner of the two. He hadn¡¯t tried to speak since his companion was removed, yet tears streaked his face and blindfold.


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    ¡°Remove his gag,¡± Tony said.


    The man said nothing.


    ¡°Well?¡±


    Silence.


    ¡°I see. You don¡¯t wish to confess. I¡¯m disappointed in you, Duck. But perhaps Crab will confess, given time. My father trained my men well. When they ¡ª¡±


    ¡°No!¡± Duck said. ¡°Don¡¯t hurt him! He did nothing.¡±


    ¡°He did nothing? How do you know he did nothing?¡±


    ¡°I just know.¡±


    ¡°Do you confess then?¡±


    ¡°Not if you¡¯re gonna kill him, I¡¯m not.¡±


    Ah, as I thought. Tony had gotten himself into difficulty.


    ¡°Oh, well,¡± Tony said, after a moment. ¡°I suppose I can just turn the both of you over to my father, then.¡±


    ¡°No! Please, Mr. Anthony, no!¡± Tears began to course down Duck¡¯s face again. ¡°I beg you, don¡¯t let Mr. Roy hurt him.¡±


    Tony glanced over at me with surprise on his face. ¡°What is Crab to you?¡±


    Duck said nothing.


    ¡°Very well, I¡¯ll speak with him then.¡± He spoke to the two men standing: ¡°Move him ¡­ let¡¯s see, over there.¡± He pointed to the far corner of the fireplace. The men moved anything which Duck could use to free himself and left him kneeling, still bound and blindfolded, on the hard stone.


    Tony took cotton from his pocket and put a pinch in each ear. ¡°Hand me your pistol.¡± One of his men did so.


    Tony held the gun in his left hand. ¡°If you make a sound,¡± he pulled back the hammer with the gun pointing at the ceiling, ¡°I will shoot you.¡±


    I stared at Tony in shock. In the house?


    Duck had been sniveling, but instantly went silent.


    Tony said, ¡°Bring Crab in.¡±


    Crab was shorter and heavier, his hair, thin at the temples. The men brought him in, and Crab knelt with a defiant air.


    ¡°Remove his gag,¡± Tony said. ¡°Well, Crab, what do you have to say for yourself?¡±


    ¡°What do you want to know?¡±


    ¡°When my father finishes with Duck, who takes his body?¡±


    Crab sat with his mouth open. ¡°Why are you doing this?¡±


    ¡°Because,¡± Tony said, ¡°you betrayed me. Duck told us all.¡±


    A strangled noise of outrage burst from Duck¡¯s throat. Tony¡¯s arm lowered in a relaxed, almost lazy motion as he shot the man in the leg ¡ª but not before I and his men hastily covered our ears.


    Duck screamed in agony and fell over onto the carpet.


    Crab¡¯s face around the blindfold went white. ¡°You bastard! Duck! Duck!¡±


    I felt terrified. What if Tony missed? In this small room, the bullet could have hit any of us on the ricochet.


    Duck slumped to the floor. Tony gestured for his men to take Duck out, leaving a plate-sized puddle of blood on the gray stone.


    ¡°Duck! Speak to me!¡±


    ¡°He can¡¯t talk to you anymore,¡± Tony said loudly, ¡°but you can still save yourself. Tell me true, now: what happened that night?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a fucking monster, same as your father.¡±


    Tony sighed. ¡°You are trying my patience. But I¡¯d rather not have my father tear your tongue out just yet. Duck is not dead; he merely fainted. I¡¯ll get him help, but you must help me in return.¡±


    Crab began sobbing. ¡°Thank the Dealer ¡­ please help him ¡­¡±


    I felt sorry for Crab. I suppose I shouldn¡¯t have, but I did. I hated to see anyone cry.


    Over time, Crab gradually became calmer. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you what you want to know.¡±


    * * *


    Crab, Duck, and Bull (the man Tony executed at the Grand Ball) joined as Associates at the same time. This wasn¡¯t an accident; they had known each other since they were boys, and not in a platonic sense, either.


    A man came to them at the Grand Ball after they learned about Tony¡¯s order, when it was too late to save Bull, and offered sympathy. This made Duck angry at first, but then the man asked if they wanted payback. ¡°All we had to do was distract the others, get them to walk away from the door, and he¡¯d pay us $100 each.¡±


    Tony and I stared at each other. Where did this man get that kind of money?


    But at the appointed time, ten other men arrived, shot their buddies, and took them to a warehouse in the Diamond quadrant.


    Tony stared at Crab, appalled. ¡°Good heavens, man, why did you not tell me this before?¡±


    ¡°He said Mr. Roy would torture us and our families to death if we confessed, because we betrayed the Family. Then when he let us go he upped the ante. We had to spy wearing the clothes he told us to. Brown gentlemen garb ¡ª¡±


    So they followed me, at least some of the time.


    ¡°¡ª If you asked about our imprisonment, we were to lead you astray and talk about a little boy, who he described to us.¡±


    I gasped, and Crab nodded. ¡°I thought you were there, mum. Mr. Anthony doesn¡¯t smoke. Anyway, there was no boy. I¡¯m not sure why he wanted us to say so.¡±


    If I hadn¡¯t seen the boy struggling to free himself, I might begin to doubt his existence.


    ¡°Tony said, ¡°Did this man give a name?¡±


    ¡°Frank Pagliacci.¡±


    Tony and I stared at each other in shock.


    Tony said, ¡°Give him a chair and take off his blindfold.¡± The men released Crab¡¯s hands but not his feet, tying him around the waist to the chair.


    We sat there, Crab and I, staring at each other.


    ¡°What else did you do for this man?¡± Tony asked.


    Crab shuddered, as if remembering a scene he wished he did not. ¡°Every day we wrote what you both did, what you said, where you went ¡ª¡±


    I twitched, startled at the thought. How much did they find out about me? Did they know about my disguises?


    ¡°¡ª who you met with. You have good taste in dressmakers, mum, but yours takes too long to make a dress. My mother could make one in half the time.¡±


    I felt relieved that he was unable to follow me further.


    Tony frowned. ¡°That¡¯s none of your concern. What shall I do with you? You¡¯ve lied to me, spied on me and my wife, and who knows what else?¡±


    ¡°Nothing else, sir, I promise. If I would have known this man was so false ¡­ ahh.¡± Crab put his face in his hands. ¡°What did I expect? I betrayed my Family, we both did ¡­ we never meant it to go this far.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± Tony turned to his men. ¡°Bring him to his friend, and guard them well. I¡¯ll have further orders shortly.¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡± The men took Crab, closing the door behind them.


    Tony rang for Pearson, then turned to me. ¡°I¡¯m sorry you had to see that.¡±


    I shrugged. I assumed that was what he wanted me there for.


    Pearson came in. ¡°We¡¯ll be taking tea in here,¡± Tony said. ¡°Have a girl clean up the blood.¡±


    After a brief glance at the fireplace, Pearson bowed and left.


    ¡°What do you think?¡±


    I stared at Tony. About shooting a gun in the house? About being followed? About his men spying on us? ¡°About what?¡±


    ¡°About the situation before us.¡±


    I took a deep breath and tried to focus, considering the matter. ¡°Perhaps this can benefit us. Assuming no other spies remain, Frank Pagliacci doesn¡¯t know these men are ours again.¡±


    ¡°Do you think we can trust them?¡±


    ¡°Duck? No, but he won¡¯t be going anywhere soon. Crab, now ¡­ him we can trust to do what we ask.¡±


    Dr. Salmon came over to treat Duck¡¯s wound. While he was upstairs with Duck, the maid cleaned the hearth. Soon after, Pearson came in with a letter for Tony.


    Tony read the letter, his face stern. ¡°Has a Constable Hanger been here?¡±


    ¡°Why yes. Twice, about a woman wanted in a kidnapping. He seemed to think I knew her.¡±


    Tony frowned. ¡°Well, he got a warrant to search the home of one of our maids at the Country House. Why would he do that?¡±


    Fear stabbed at me. Had she done what I asked and destroyed the letters? ¡°I don¡¯t know. What happened?¡±


    ¡°They found nothing. How dare he step onto my property, question you without my leave, and search my servant¡¯s home? That is one fellow I would happily turn over to my father.¡±


    He¡¯s angry, I thought. Surely he doesn¡¯t mean it. ¡°What will you do?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll talk to the Chief of Police when I¡¯m on Market Center. This nonsense will stop.¡±


    A knock at the door. ¡°Come in,¡± Tony said.


    Dr. Salmon came in, Sawbuck with him.


    ¡°How is he?¡± I said.


    ¡°Resting. I was unable to locate the bullet, but it should work its way out in time. I¡¯ve dressed the wound and dosed him with pain medication. I left more with his ¡­ friend, with instructions.¡±


    Tony nodded. ¡°You did well.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll return tomorrow to check on him,¡± Dr. Salmon said.


    ¡°Ten,¡± Tony said to Sawbuck.


    ¡°Yes, sir?¡±


    ¡°Get Crab back down here, I want to talk to him.¡±


    ¡°Right away, sir,¡± Sawbuck closed the door behind him, returning a few minutes later.


    Crab had been cleaned up and appeared much more willing to talk with us.


    Tony said, ¡°What does this man really look like?¡±


    Crab¡¯s description of this Frank Pagliacci could match several dozen men at the Grand Ball that night, and several dozen more of their retainers: brown hair, brown skin, wearing a ¡°dark¡± tuxedo, and ¡°very good looking.¡±


    ¡°What color tuxedo?¡± I said.


    Crab shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t do well with colors, mum. Never did. It runs in the family. Maybe ask Duck when he comes to?¡±


    Later we sent Crab to ask, then heard Duck shouting, ¡°How in the hell am I supposed to know what color his fucking clothes were? Maybe you¡¯d know if you hadn¡¯t been staring at his fucking arse the whole time!¡±


    I laughed. ¡°By the Shuffler!¡±


    Tony shook his head, not finding it funny. ¡°Duck¡¯s in pain, and medicated. I¡¯ll have Sawbuck look through the guest list and the list of retainers, and see who might fit this description.¡±


    Crab returned red-faced, and we set him with a charge: continue to report to Frank Pagliacci, but report what we told him to. If Frank Pagliacci asked, he should say we sent Duck to the countryside. Crab agreed readily when we told him we would hold Duck to insure Crab¡¯s good behavior until this man Pagliacci was either caught or killed.


    We moved the men to a room on the top floor, locked their windows, and stationed men outside of the Manor and outside their door. Then we sent word to Duck¡¯s family that we needed him in the countryside; he would send word when he could.


    ¡°Duck¡¯s Ma and Pa don¡¯t care about him,¡± Crab said, ¡°only one who¡¯d care is his brother, and he¡¯s too young to come here.¡±


    After dinner, Tony and I retired to our rooms, and spent many hours talking. It felt exhilarating to help in such a practical way with the Business, and I wondered if this was what Roy meant for me to do all those long years ago.

 Chapter 1: The Jacq of Spades - Round 20: The Preparation

    That night went no differently than any other, and I woke at Honor¡¯s knock feeling drained and weary. One more day ¡ª and one more night ¡ª to endure before I could try finding David Bryce. I sat numbly sipping my tea, watching the rain fall outside as servants, horses, and dogs trudged in the mud.


    What was I doing? Was this worth it?


    Perhaps I shouldn¡¯t trust Morton at all. Perhaps it was wiser not to go out tomorrow, to find a different way to the Diamond quadrant, not use his help.


    I could meet up with a madman, a strangler, who might do the same to me. I could find myself delivered to Jack Diamond ¡ª who might be one and the same ¡ª by this Morton¡¯s hand, and might very well meet my end. Perhaps I had no need to put myself into peril tomorrow. I could simply tell Tony where David was and then ¡­ what?


    No, Tony couldn¡¯t save the child, even if he believed my information and didn¡¯t care how I got it. Could Tony, of all people, get into the Diamond quadrant unnoticed? Even if he did, for him to go to the Diamond Party Time plant and rescue David ¡­ I would have to go also, if only to identify the child.


    Jacqueline Spadros, I thought, you¡¯re being a coward.


    I considered little David Bryce, Air¡¯s brother, alone. Or worse, in the company of a madman who had already strangled his older brother ¡ª perhaps even in front of him. I felt ashamed.


    If I wanted to get the child back, using Morton¡¯s offer of help was the best way I had found so far, and I needed to move soon. I couldn¡¯t wait for another opportunity. Otherwise, I could be chasing rumors of David¡¯s whereabouts forever. But I wasn¡¯t going to blindly assume Blaze Rainbow intended to protect me, or even had the same objective.


    When Amelia arrived with my newspaper, I stared at it, feeling I missed something, something important. I pushed my tea and toast aside, then I put the newspaper on the windowsill, to get it out of the way. ¡°Amelia, bring me pen, ink, sealing-wax and writing-paper, five sheets.¡±


    ¡°Yes, mum,¡± she said.


    ¡°And ask Madame Biltcliffe to send the corset I asked her to make me.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll send a note right away, mum.¡±


    When she returned with the items I asked her for, I wrote a letter addressed to Madame Biltcliffe:


    If you do not hear from me in three days, go to the police. In my dresser is further information. ¡ªJS


    I put the letter in my pocket. Then I wrote everything I knew about the case so far, including my speculations about Morton: three pages worth. I folded and sealed it, locking it in my dresser. The fact I needed to do it felt terrifying. Afterward, I felt relieved.


    Tony went into his study after breakfast, accompanied by Sawbuck and several of his other men, doubtless plotting about Frank Pagliacci.


    I went to Crab and Duck¡¯s room, a guest room above the parlor; one of Tony¡¯s men stood guard. ¡°Morning, Mrs. Spadros.¡±


    ¡°Good morning. May I speak with Crab?¡±


    The man opened the door. ¡°You want me to come in?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not necessary.¡± I glanced at Crab, who sat in a chair beside Duck¡¯s bed. ¡°I¡¯ll only be a moment.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll be right outside,¡± the man said, and closed the door.


    I rarely went into the guest rooms, but they were much like the rest of the house: white furniture, gray tile. Duck snored softly, his face pink. Crab¡¯s eyes were bleary, his clothes rumpled.


    I drew up a chair and sat. ¡°When are you supposed to report in?¡±


    ¡°Tomorrow, after luncheon. I go to the river promenade, and signal if I¡¯m not being followed. If he doesn¡¯t see anyone he walks with me and we talk.¡±


    Perfect timing for what I had in mind.


    Might Tony and his men have planned to catch Pagliacci at this meeting? Would Tony risk a gunfight in a crowded place? ¡°What exactly did Mr. Pagliacci tell you to say about the boy?¡±


    Crab thought a moment. ¡°He said to say that the boy was ten, with dark hair and eyes. Also to say he tormented the boy, and the boy would cry for his mother. He said, say it just like that.¡±


    Interesting. ¡°How were you to say he tormented the boy?¡±


    ¡°Whispering to him. We were to make it sound horrible.¡±


    What could this man be about? Was this a game to him?


    I had an idea. ¡°Mr. Spadros will tell you to report to Mr. Pagliacci tomorrow, and give you words to say. What I would like you to also say is that you mentioned the boy, but we care nothing about him.¡±


    Crab¡¯s eyes narrowed, then he nodded.


    This would either cause Pagliacci to relax, or he would become suspicious and return to Diamond at once. But it would be too late. With luck, Morton and I would have the boy and be gone before Pagliacci knew we were there.


    If Tony¡¯s men played this right, they could capture Pagliacci once he left the promenade. If David were a pawn, or held important information, Pagliacci might focus on securing David rather than on watching behind him. ¡°Thank you for your help.¡±


    Crab seemed worried. ¡°Duck¡¯s face feels hot.¡±


    * * *


    Tony and his men were eating luncheon in the study, but I asked Pearson to call the doctor.


    Dr. Salmon arrived an hour later to examine Duck. He later asked to speak with Tony, then left, returning with a male assistant and two large basins.


    Tony¡¯s men moved Crab to another room while the doctor worked. We heard Crab griping all the way in the dining room. Duck howled in pain from time to time, accompanied by Crab¡¯s sobbing screams. It made for an unsettling dinner.


    When Dr. Salmon came downstairs, he looked grim. ¡°Your man has a severely infected wound and diabetes mellitus.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± I said.


    ¡°The sugar disease,¡± Dr. Salmon said.


    I felt shocked. How had the man lived this long?


    ¡°I removed a great deal of infection from the wound, along with the bullet, which went too deep to find yesterday, and washed the wound with whiskey. Astonishing, how much purulence his body generated in 24 hours. I¡¯ve given him medication for pain and fever. But he needs close attention, and may not survive.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll have rooms set up for you and your assistant,¡± Tony said. ¡°Whatever you need. We must not lose the man.¡± Duck was our only hold on Crab, who was our only link to Frank Pagliacci.


    Tony went to the men, and I followed. Before he got to Duck and Crab¡¯s room, I took hold of Tony¡¯s arm. ¡°We must tell Crab.¡±


    Tony shook his head. ¡°We can¡¯t tell Crab how serious this is until after he passes this message along. He must believe Duck has a chance to survive.¡±


    ¡°At least let me go with you. He might believe it from me.¡±


    Tony shook his head. ¡°You are a woman, and unused to hiding your emotions. If you are there, he will see the truth in your eyes.¡±


    If I denied it, I told Tony that I hid my emotions on a daily basis, destroying what little trust he held for me.


    Tony went to the door and shook hands with the man on guard. I stood nearby as Tony went inside, leaning my head back against the wall.


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    ¡°Ho, Crab, how is he?¡±


    ¡°I might ask you that, sir.¡±


    ¡°The doctor retrieved the bullet: it¡¯s a good sign.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m grateful.¡± I heard low murmurs back and forth for quite some time. In the middle, it sounded as if Crab were crying.


    I didn¡¯t know how to feel. Crab betrayed the Family, and the penalty was death. Yet Tony killed a man Crab loved for no good reason, then shot another for even less reason, who might now be dying. Crab was no dummy; surely he saw the conflict of interest Tony faced when telling him anything.


    Then Tony said, ¡°How are you to mark all is well?¡±


    ¡°I use this kerchief here. This red one. He said, use red to show all is well.¡±


    ¡°This isn¡¯t red, Crab, it¡¯s brown.¡±


    ¡°But ¡­ it¡¯s the one he gave me.¡± Crab wasn¡¯t sure.


    ¡°Then use that. Nothing must alarm him.¡±


    The door opened and Tony came out. ¡°Guard them well.¡±


    * * *


    Someone pushed me out of a carriage. I fell on the rough cobblestones. Strangers gathered around me. My knees burned.


    ¡°Fine dress for a Pot rag,¡± an older girl said, yanking on it, laughing as it ripped.


    I struggled to my feet.


    ¡°Combed hair and everything, ain¡¯t she fancy,¡± a man said. He spat in my face. ¡°Too fancy to whore for the likes of us.¡±


    I ran from them, down a long passageway, a flight of stairs, a maze of machinery, searching for something.


    The dark shape of a man followed me in the shadows, coming closer each time I looked back. A diagonal of light crossed Jack¡¯s face. A dagger glinted in his hand. Terror filled me. But I moved so slowly ¡­


    ¡°Ahhh!¡± I woke, my heart pounding.


    Tony was already gone, but Amelia had not been in yet. The drapes were shut, only a pale line showed that dawn was near.


    I lay back in bed, taking deep breaths as tears filled my eyes.


    Oh, to have a night without dreams.


    I curled onto my side. Tears wet my pillow. Sometimes, I felt Jack Diamond made good on his promise to make my life hell just by being in my nightmares.


    I never returned to sleep. While I drank my bitter morning tea, I took the invitations and notes from Morton and compared them to the false note sent to me on Madame Biltcliffe¡¯s stationery. The writing didn¡¯t match.


    I felt glad the writing didn¡¯t match. But I couldn¡¯t deduce who wrote that first note. Frank Pagliacci was a prime suspect, or perhaps some female associate with a good eye for copying.


    I realized I should have investigated the false note and the break-in at Madame Biltcliffe¡¯s shop before doing anything else. If I had done that, I might have discovered Frank Pagliacci¡¯s identity sooner. Perhaps Herbert and Stephen¡¯s deaths could have been avoided. Now it was too late.


    Morton wasn¡¯t Frank Pagliacci. But it didn¡¯t mean he held honorable intentions towards me. What if Morton was an accomplice, pretending to help me in order to bring me to Frank, Jack, or both?


    What if I was caught?


    I pictured Jack in my dream, with a knife, ready to do his worst. Or perhaps Roy, if I survived. Roy would be furious; a slap would be just the beginning. I could say Morton kidnapped me, or lured me there on false pretenses.


    No, I decided, I wouldn¡¯t let it go that far. I had no wish to be tortured by either of them. I would have my six-shooter with me, and keep the last bullet safe.


    Jack Diamond would not capture me alive.


    * * *


    After the morning meeting, Tony went to his appointment. I asked Amelia to choose a luncheon dress for the Spadros Women¡¯s Club, suitable for boating on Mrs. Hart¡¯s yacht.


    ¡°I have just the thing!¡± Amelia chose a blue wool crape dress with dark blue buttons.


    While she tightened my corset and got me into my dress, I thought about many things:


    Why did Frank Pagliacci want us to know he held David?


    My only answer was the child was bait for a trap.


    I didn¡¯t like this idea much, but I could find no other reason to do what Frank Pagliacci was doing. This was why I told Crab to pretend we cared nothing for him. This would force Pagliacci to ¡­


    Oh, no. What if he killed the boy?


    ¡°Are you well, mum?¡± Amelia said.


    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m quite well.¡± Morton and I would arrive before Crab talked to him. David would be safe, assuming he was still alive.


    ¡°Your package from Madame Biltcliffe is on the dresser.¡±


    ¡°Would you wrap it as a gift, please, Amelia?¡± David had to be alive. I couldn¡¯t let myself think he was dead. Someone would have found his body by now had Pagliacci killed and dumped the boy, as he did with his other victims. It was a thin hope, but all I had to go on.


    The idea that Frank Pagliacci did this to distract me rather than (or in addition to) Tony still lingered. I had no evidence for this, nor could I deduce why the idea stayed with me. But when an idea stayed with me, I never ignored it.


    It suggested Pagliacci already knew or knew of us.


    Between Tony and I, enough people disliked us to fill a ballroom. But someone who hated us enough to beat Tony, to kidnap and murder children, just to distract us? From what?


    I shook my head, puzzled.


    ¡°You¡¯re worrying on something, mum, I can tell,¡± Amelia said. ¡°Anything I can help with?¡±


    I laughed. ¡°I¡¯ll let you know if I think of something.¡±


    I thought of the Red Dog cards, and of what I told Tony, that perhaps these actions were to test us.


    Bait for a trap. Distraction from something else. Tests. ¡°I have a puzzle but not all the pieces.¡±


    In the end, though, did the answer really matter? Right now, all I cared about was finding Air¡¯s little brother and bringing him home safe.


    ¡°Well, mum, my little ones always lose some of the pieces in their puzzles. If you know the picture, it makes it go faster.¡±


    That made me stop. What was it I thought of earlier, when I spoke with Tony? A prelude to something else. But what?


    ¡°Sit down, mum, and I¡¯ll get your boots on you,¡± Amelia said.


    The bell rang downstairs, and Pearson answered it. Soon Pearson¡¯s heavy tread came to the door; he knocked as Amelia finished tying my boots.


    ¡°Come in,¡± I said.


    ¡°Master Jonathan Diamond calling,¡± Pearson said.


    ¡°Wonderful! I don¡¯t need to leave for a while yet.¡±


    ¡°Very good, mum, I¡¯ll seat him in the parlor.¡±


    ¡°Pearson, let Dr. Salmon know we have a visitor. I don¡¯t want Duck and Crab howling with a guest here.¡± I picked up my letter to Madame Biltcliffe and handed it to him. ¡°Would you post this for me?¡±


    ¡°Certainly, mum.¡±


    Jonathan looked much better today, and walked without his cane. ¡°How beautiful you look! Do you have time to see me?¡±


    I smiled. ¡°For you, always. Would you like some tea?¡±


    He smiled. ¡°I would.¡±


    I rang for a maid. We sat across a small table, facing each other as she brought us our tea.


    Jonathan wore a dark brown corduroy suit with brass buttons. How many thousands of men wore brown today?


    When the maid left, I said, ¡°How can I help you?¡±


    ¡°I wished to see how you fared. I¡¯m afraid I wasn¡¯t very good company last time.¡±


    The room was warm and comfortable. The sun peeked through the clouds, shining bright in my face. I felt an enormous temptation to stay here, spend the day with Jonathan, and forget David altogether. ¡°I¡¯m so glad you came by. I could use some counsel.¡±


    Why did I bring this up? I instantly regretted it. But I suppose I needed reassurance that I wasn¡¯t insane, risking my life for a boy I didn¡¯t know.


    Jonathan nodded, more at ease. ¡°I would be glad to help.¡±


    What could I say now? ¡°I have a ¡­ hmm, how to say it ¡­¡±


    ¡°Simply say it.¡±


    The sun went behind the clouds. I gazed into Jonathan¡¯s eyes and felt foolish, even flustered. I never felt this way around him before. ¡°Suppose ¡­ there were a task ¡­ you felt was right and honorable, that would help someone, but it put you at some risk.¡±


    My hands lay on the table, and he leaned forward, placing his hands on mine. ¡°And you couldn¡¯t pay someone to do this?¡±


    I shook my head, glancing away. ¡°No, I¡¯m the only one with enough knowledge of the situation to do a proper job.¡±


    He shrugged, and leaned back in his chair. ¡°The answer seems obvious, unless there is some aspect you haven¡¯t told me.¡±


    I laughed. Of course there was, but I couldn¡¯t say that. Even so, I felt relieved, as irrational as it might seem. ¡°You have helped me immeasurably.¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m glad I could be of help, although I don¡¯t feel as if I¡¯ve done anything.¡± He almost sounded annoyed.


    I had the sudden feeling he wanted to tell me something, but could not. ¡°Jon, what¡¯s wrong? I¡¯m glad to see you, but why are you here?¡±


    Jonathan gave me a level look. ¡°I thought you might need actual assistance.¡±


    ¡°In what way?¡± I felt baffled.


    ¡°There have been odd rumors of late,¡± he paused. ¡°Screams coming from Spadros Manor.¡± He reached across the table and touched my face. ¡°You have covered it, but your face was bruised the last time my sister and I visited.¡± He took a deep breath. ¡°Is your husband treating you well?¡±


    I stared at him, astonished. ¡°Is that what you think?¡± A laugh burst from me. ¡°No ¡­ no. Quite the contrary. Tony has been wonderful. We have visitors ¡­ one has fallen quite ill and is beside himself. He is finally sleeping.¡±


    ¡°This explains the doctors.¡± Jonathan shook his head, resting his arms on the table. ¡°I¡¯m sorry; it¡¯s just that ¡­¡±


    ¡°I know. Tony is Roy¡¯s son, but he is certainly not Roy.¡± I patted his hand and placed it on my unbruised cheek, feeling a surge of fondness for him. ¡°Never fear; if that ever happened, I would tell you.¡±


    Relief crossed Jonathan¡¯s face. ¡°I am truly grateful.¡±


    The sun came out again, and Jon¡¯s face fell into shadow. I closed my eyes, enjoying the warm sun on my face. For a moment, I had another temptation: to tell Jonathan everything, to ask for his aid in entering the Diamond quadrant and wresting the boy away from his brother.


    But how could I use him to defy his nature, as I had tried to do with Vig? Jonathan loved his brother Jack, in spite of Jack¡¯s madness, and would defend him. Jon might not believe my story. He would want me to wait while he investigated it, allowing Frank Pagliacci to harm or even murder the child. I might lose my dearest friend over this, and for what?


    As I told Jon, this was my task, and I would do it.


    A knock at the door; I became aware of how this might appear. I leaned back, taking my teacup in hand, and Jonathan let his hand fall to the table. ¡°Come in.¡±


    Pearson entered. ¡°Your carriage is ready, mum.¡±


    I heard Jon blowing his nose behind me.


    ¡°Thank you, Pearson.¡± I turned to Jonathan, who faced the window. ¡°I must be off. Walk with me?¡±


    He smiled, but his eyes were red. ¡°With pleasure.¡±


    ¡°Are you well, Jon?¡±


    He folded his handkerchief in his pocket, clearing his throat. ¡°Of course, my love. Nothing to fear. A bit of dust, perhaps.¡±


    I took Jonathan¡¯s arm as he escorted me to my carriage. Before I climbed in, Pearson handed me the gift-wrapped maid¡¯s corset, then returned to the house.


    After I sat inside the carriage and the door closed, Jonathan said, ¡°Do your right and honorable deed, if you must, but take care. I would have nothing harm you.¡±


    It was such an echo of my words to Tony the night he went looking for the kidnapper, hurt as he was, that I felt touched. ¡°I am going to luncheon.¡± I snapped open my fan and fanned myself. ¡°I should manage not to harm myself too badly there.¡± I grinned at him.


    He laughed, slapping the carriage to signal the driver.


    I waved as we drove away, then turned to wipe my eyes. I had never lied to Jonathan before, ever.


    How I wished I could tell him the truth! But he would never allow it, and would surely have me followed if I persisted, or worse, follow himself. I could never forgive myself if harm came to him on my account.


    I leaned back into the carriage cushions and closed my eyes. Today, I thought, this would be over, one way or another.


    I was a fool.

 Chapter 1: The Jacq of Spades - Round 21: The Trap

    The Spadros Women¡¯s Club was elegant in its own right, with piano black paneling trimmed in silver. Black roses lined the walkways. Dock 21 was close by, and there again was Zia.


    She smiled shyly, gesturing for me to follow her onto the gangplank and into the yacht. The girl might be deaf, but she was quite pretty.


    Morton sat at the table downstairs in the oak-paneled galley, loading his revolver. Today Morton wore a dark brown business suit and a dark brown Derby hat. He holstered his gun and rose when I came down the stair. ¡°Good afternoon, Mrs. Spadros.¡±


    ¡°Good afternoon, Master Rainbow.¡±


    Morton insisted I remove any makeup and jewelry, and cover my hair. ¡°Your portrait is everywhere. This outfit is little disguise if someone recognizes you.¡±


    With a shock, I realized he was right. Was that why Constable Hanger kept visiting? Had someone recognized me?


    Morton frowned when he saw the yellowing bruise on my cheek, yet said nothing of it.


    I changed clothes with the maid, putting on the maid¡¯s corset Madame Biltcliffe made and Amelia wrapped. I placed my clothes and jewelry into a dress bag Morton obtained for the occasion, with zippered pockets for small items. I felt impressed with his planning.


    I didn¡¯t know if I would get an honest answer, but I had to ask. ¡°Why are you helping me?¡±


    ¡°My employer would like this conspiracy of kidnapping and murder to end, and the boy returned to his mother. So our goals run along the same path. It¡¯s most efficient to help each other, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    That sounded too easy. ¡°May I ask who your employer is?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t reveal my employers¡¯ names, just as you avoid revealing yours, and for similar reasons. But my present employer wishes you no harm, as far as I can tell.¡±


    ¡°Then I am relieved. It is imperative that I do nothing to bring scrutiny upon either myself or the Spadros Family.¡±


    ¡°Be assured, madam, that as far as I am concerned, you were never here.¡±


    Feet ran along the pier, and a boy¡¯s voice called out, ¡°Message for Blaze Rainbow.¡±


    ¡°Ah, good.¡± Morton went up the stairs and out of sight, the boat creaking with the added weight as he stepped onto the deck.


    I heard the boy speak, but not what he said.


    ¡°Are you sure?¡± Morton sounded incredulous. ¡°Okay, thank you.¡± He came into the cabin looking grim. He and Zia had a spirited conversation: anger lay in her face as she gestured wildly.


    He turned to me. ¡°Let¡¯s discuss the plan before we go any further.¡±


    ¡°After you tell me what just happened.¡±


    Zia turned away, hand to her face.


    ¡°I just received some disturbing news,¡± Morton said.


    A surge of fear. ¡°Is it about the boy?¡±


    Morton shook his head. ¡°No, not about him. Think nothing of it.¡± He gave Zia a quick glance, then stared at the table between us.


    ¡°What are you going to do?¡±


    ¡°Let me see what your plan was first, then I can decide,¡± Morton said.


    I had the feeling Morton didn¡¯t want to talk about his dilemma in front of Zia. I also felt she wasn¡¯t his maid, but something closer.


    ¡°Very well.¡± I opened the small notebook with my sketches of the factory.


    ¡°How ¡­?¡±


    I smiled. ¡°The plans are public record. As to how I found the building, that shall be my secret.¡±


    Morton said nothing.


    ¡°There is a door round back, which goes to the worker¡¯s areas: washrooms, lockers, equipment, and so on. Past that is a stair down to the basement. The boy is likely held there.¡±


    Morton frowned, which made me nervous. ¡°Very well. I promised to help you, and I shall, for as long as I can.¡±


    * * *


    Morton and I untied the thick golden ropes which bound us to the dock.


    Once we cast off, Morton gestured for me to approach him where he stood near the wheel. He handed me brass and leather-bound binoculars. ¡°There are watchers on the Diamond side of the river for just what we plan to do. So we can¡¯t simply go across.¡±


    I peered through; men on the opposite side peered back at us. I returned the binoculars. ¡°What shall we do then?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll show you.¡± Morton turned the boat towards Market Center, moving along the wide river with several others.


    The day was pleasant, if overcast, and the wind favorable. Soon we passed under the bridge between Diamond and Spadros closest to Market Center. Morton then turned the boat right to circle the island.


    We passed under the same bridge Tony and I crossed so many times to and from Market Center. I thought of New Year¡¯s Eve, and what Tony said up there.


    Tony and I had a life together. Perhaps I should forget about Joseph Kerr and stop living in the past like Jack Diamond seemed to, before it drove me mad as well.


    Morton said, ¡°Would you go downstairs and get a brown suitcase with a brass star on the corner?¡±


    Zia paced back and forth inside the cabin, wringing her hands. She ignored me as I searched out the suitcase. At first I thought the suitcase would be too heavy to lift, yet it was light. When I emerged with the suitcase, Morton was removing the last of the white sails, which he folded up.


    By this time we had passed out of sight of Diamond, and Morton began hooking blue sails to the mast. ¡°Open the suitcase, then help me with these lines.¡± Blue cloth filled the suitcase, so thin you could see through it!


    It was then I noticed that everything on the yacht had been white: sails, decks and lines.


    Zia peeked out, curiosity evidently overcoming her distress. Morton made hand movements and she took the blue cloth out of the suitcase. Starting at one corner of the stern, she draped it along the outside of the boat, like bunting.


    Once we raised the blue sails, we made much better time around the island, traveling under the bridge to the Clubb quadrant. The bridges, unlike those in the postcard, were white: desperate men peeled away the gold leaf long ago, if in truth it ever existed. ¡°I never realized Market Center was so big.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fortunate,¡± Morton said, ¡°because it allows the watchers on the Diamond shore to forget us.¡± He smiled. ¡°But this will distract them altogether. Follow me.¡±


    We went aft, and Zia was tying the blue material onto the other side. She then went forward, towards the bow.


    Morton and I moved a bench far away from the stern wall. He opened a compartment in the floor next to the stern wall, lifting the floorboards up by hinges to fold onto the deck.


    He climbed into the compartment and unhooked a board shaped like the inside of the stern wall. This board attached to the lowest part of the stern by hooks, and at the railing by hinges. We raised the board over the side using long hooked poles, the board just clearing the rudder mechanism. When this board dropped over the stern wall, it clicked into place, covering the stern.


    ¡°The Finesse is now the Action Card,¡± Morton said. ¡°No one is searching for that boat at all.¡±


    We walked towards the bow. Zia was at the wheel, and we went under the bridge to the Hart quadrant as if on vacation.


    Morton took out a cigarette and lit it. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, here.¡± He held his cigarette in his mouth while he offered me a cigarette, which I took, although perhaps I shouldn¡¯t have, and lit it for me.


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    So far, the day seemed enjoyable. But I didn¡¯t let Morton behind me, nor did I forget what I was doing. I walked into a trap. I could very well die that day.


    Zia and Morton exchanged gestures after he tied the boat to the dock, and she seemed calmer. After a peck on Morton¡¯s cheek, Zia returned to the boat, and went inside.


    Morton must have noticed my curious gaze, for he said, ¡°My younger sister.¡±


    Master Gentleman Morton¡¯s dark brown private coach waited at the docks in the Diamond quadrant, complete with driver and footman. Morton tried to get me to enter, but I refused, hiring a public taxi-carriage which came down the street a few moments later.


    We sat across from each other. Silence seemed the best choice.


    ¡°You don¡¯t trust me; I don¡¯t blame you. It was abominable of me to lay hands on you the day we met, and I deeply regret it.¡±


    ¡°Then why did you?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± The way he said it told me that this man was new to his job, fearing his task was impossible, afraid he ruined the opportunity to gain me as an ally. ¡°I ¡­ I never played a rough man before.¡±


    I almost laughed. Is that what he thought of Pot rags? ¡°I don¡¯t trust you, true. For all I know, you could be the murderer.¡±


    Morton stared at me, aghast. ¡°Murderer? I assure you, madam, I¡¯m not!¡±


    ¡°And so a murderer would say. However,¡± I said, with a sigh, ¡°I must return David Bryce to his mother if I can, for reasons I will not share with a stranger. And so I must ride with you, and let you accompany me.¡±


    Morton didn¡¯t speak for several moments; his eyes, nose, and cheeks turned red, and he looked less certain of himself. ¡°I believe this is a trap.¡±


    I stayed silent, hoping he would say more.


    ¡°Do you know a man named Frank Pagliacci?¡±


    Now perhaps I would learn the truth. What should I reveal?


    I decided to be as honest as possible. If he played me false, this might put him at ease, and he might let some information slip. ¡°He is the man who kidnapped the boy and holds him now. He killed two of my husband¡¯s men and kidnapped two more, blackmailing them into spying on us. I also believe he strangled your Stephen and the older brother of the child we seek.¡±


    When I told him the last part, Morton stared at me, horrified. ¡°This whole thing felt wrong. I have met this man; he is ¡­ a consummate liar. He almost had me fooled.¡±


    ¡°What did he tell you?¡±


    Morton then told his story, slowly and with much hesitation. He was hired to discover who created false Red Dog treys then blamed their villainous deeds on the gang. While on his investigation, a trusted friend introduced him to Frank Pagliacci. This man passed himself ¡ª quite convincingly, from Morton¡¯s descriptions ¡ª as part of the district attorney¡¯s office.


    ¡°I felt suspicious ¡­ I didn¡¯t understand why he would want to help me.¡±


    By then, Morton learned of David¡¯s disappearance from Clover. His employer became alarmed at the news, and asked him to retrieve the boy.


    But Frank Pagliacci claimed no child was missing: he paid a woman to tell this story. They asked Morton to pretend to assist me in finding the boy. In exchange, they would give him access to a man who had the information Morton needed.


    This man, who Morton never met, would talk only if he met with me. Pagliacci claimed this pretense of a kidnapping was necessary to lure me to the meeting. A police detective joined them, but only to corroborate the story.


    Why would anyone need to lure me anywhere? Because it was someone I wouldn¡¯t want to meet with otherwise? I couldn¡¯t think of anyone who fit that description, except perhaps my father. Or Jack Diamond.


    Ah. That made sense, frightening as it was.


    I considered Mrs. Bryce, her barren rooms, her empty plate, and her dead son. ¡°I have spent a great deal of time with this woman, who I have known since childhood. I am confident that if they paid her to concoct this story, the pay wasn¡¯t nearly enough.¡±


    ¡°Their reasons made no sense,¡± Morton said. ¡°A man going to the police with information in exchange for meeting you. Though you ran an independent business, he couldn¡¯t meet you? Because your husband was so jealous?¡± He glanced at my face.


    I touched my cheek. ¡°It¡¯s not what you think.¡± I sighed, melancholy at my failure with Thrace Pike. ¡°It¡¯s a long story.¡±


    Morton peered at me, then shook his head. ¡°None of it made sense. They were insistent on their tale and plan, though, and it seemed to make sense to my friend, so I let the matter drop. But I began to check their story.


    ¡°The second man was a detective once, but had been let go. He now works as a private investigator.¡±


    Oh, dear. A Bridges detective would have to do or be something quite extreme to rate dismissal.


    Morton took a deep breath. ¡°The most alarming part of this was that they refused to tell me where the meeting was to be. I would receive word to be at a certain place and told what to say. That is why I was in Diamond, and why I didn¡¯t rescue the boy. At the time, I didn¡¯t think he was real. But when I saw his mother, so frantic and hopeful, I began to doubt their story.¡±


    ¡°And then there was Stephen.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± He paused. ¡°I never met Stephen, but from the way Clover took the news ¡­¡± He shook his head. ¡°When you told me you sent Stephen to find the boy, and then to see his portrait in the paper ¡­ murdered ¡­ I knew this was real ¡­ something was horribly wrong.¡± Morton sat silent for a moment. ¡°I could get no confirmation that Frank Pagliacci was who he claimed to be. So I sent a messenger boy to bring a letter to the man. A test, to see how he would reply. The messenger told me the office lay empty. I knew then this was a trap.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°Why trap us?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not sure they wished to trap me, although I can see several reasons they might wish to. I¡¯m certain they wish to trap you, but for what purpose it¡¯s unclear.¡± Then he sat bolt upright, his voice full of dread. ¡°Zia.¡±


    No surprise here. ¡°You must decide what to do for yourself.¡±


    Morton stared out of the window, his face pale. He kept one hand to his chin, the other tapping his fingers and checking his pocket-watch. We clattered along in the taxi-carriage, the horses¡¯ hooves ringing on the cobblestones.


    Several minutes went by. I felt relieved that Morton didn¡¯t turn the carriage back. Frank Pagliacci could have been returning to kill or move the boy soon. ¡°Did you follow me?¡±


    ¡°I did, the day you went to the train and the bar. Once I met you in the Pot, I knew you dressed as a shop maid. It was easy to deduce where you might obtain a uniform without much trouble.¡±


    ¡°I was to meet Stephen there at the train.¡± I felt somber. ¡°He never arrived.¡±


    ¡°The police found him. I wish now that they had kept him; perhaps he would still be alive.¡±


    The driver brought us round back of the Diamond plant, a few streets away. ¡°Please wait for us here,¡± I said. The driver glanced at Morton, who nodded. The driver took out a cigar, lighting it as we crossed the street.


    The sun emerged from the clouds, and I moved towards the factory. ¡°This way.¡± Morton followed.


    Few people walked the streets. We were too close to the slums for the homes to be other than those of the lowest day-wage servants. This hour, most were at work in the better areas as temporary help, shop girls, and the like.


    A black brick building mortared in gray stood at the far right intersection of two alleyways. At the corner, a gray wooden door stood at the top of a short staircase with a gray metal railing.


    An ancient wooden sign above the door said:


    Diamond Shoe Polish


    Since 1874


    A man sat smoking on the back stair, while another stood guard, revolver in hand. Neither saw us, with our alleyway cloaked in shadow.


    Morton took out his pocket-watch and examined it. ¡°My guess is that the man on the porch will go off break in a few moments,¡± he whispered. ¡°I will then draw the gun-man away. Go in when the way is clear.¡±


    I grabbed his arm. ¡°Why are you really helping me?¡±


    Morton turned to me. ¡°Why do you care?¡±


    ¡°I need to know.¡± I needed to know he hadn¡¯t sold me to Jack Diamond. Or to hear him say it, even if he lied.


    Morton took a deep breath and let it out. ¡°Perhaps it¡¯s to prove you¡¯ve misjudged me.¡± Then he gazed away with an introspective smile. ¡°Perhaps I¡¯m just a sucker for a pretty face.¡±


    I hadn¡¯t expected that answer.


    ¡°Or perhaps,¡± Morton said, ¡°I just can¡¯t walk away when a boy may be in danger.¡±


    I nodded, humbled. Morton returned the way we came.


    A few moments later, the man on the back stair threw down his cigarette and stepped on it, then went inside. A horn sounded inside the building.


    I heard a trash can thrown against a wall, then gunshots, both from my left. The man with the pistol glanced up and down the street, then moved one slow step at a time towards the commotion. More gunshots, then hoof-beats.


    Was that my carriage? Had Morton abandoned me to rescue Zia? I might have no way to escape.


    But the way was clear; I had to go now, or go back.


    I crept from the shadows, peering around. Seeing no one, I crossed to the stair and opened the unlocked door.


    Inside was a long white hallway, its sides filled with boots and overcoats. This led to a white kitchen, which held a full trash can and dirty pots in the copper washbasin to the right. The room smelled of recent cooking. Across the room was a locker area, painted gray.


    I saw no exit from the locker room, so I went straight on through then turned right. White-clad workers tended huge intricate machines past the large windows to my left. I kept myself low so they wouldn¡¯t see me.


    I went through a tan room which held equipment and an enormous black room full of barrels, stacked high enough so I couldn¡¯t see over them. Large lights glared from the ceiling, which seemed several stories up.


    I almost stumbled on a man checking the barrels, but I crouched down before he saw me. He wore white, but the white of a factory laborer: white shirt and overalls, with dark brown work shoes. The man¡¯s brown skin matched his hair, which hung in curls, and he held a notebook, writing every so often in it.


    I felt a touch on my shoulder, and startled, I turned, ready to fight or flee. Morton stood behind me, and I sighed with relief.


    He put a finger to his lips and gestured for me to follow. He led me around a stack of large wooden boxes which screened us from view of the workman and we crouched down again. ¡°Where to now?¡±


    I checked my notes. ¡°This way,¡± I whispered.


    We went down a long gray hallway. Several of the bulbs above us were burned out, but there was enough light to make our way. We came to a door, which Morton opened.


    An unlit oil lamp hung on the wall beside the door. Morton lit the lamp with a match from his pocket, and we hurried inside, closing the door behind us. The light revealed a flight of steps leading down a white stairwell.


    Morton drew his revolver and went first, one step at a time. I followed. A black metal railing lay along the wall to our left. Another began once we cleared the ceiling, with supports for the railing every few yards.


    Lamps hung from the low ceiling of a large windowless white storage room. The room held rows of the same wooden boxes, stacked waist high.


    The room was silent except for a faint rhythmic squeak, far off. Morton lit each lamp in turn, searching the area shown before lighting another.


    Far in back of the room, a dark shape moved, huddled in the left corner, surrounded by boxes. Morton lit another lamp. A child, barefoot, curled into a ball, arms around knees, rocking.


    I approached him. ¡°David? David Bryce?¡±


    He gave no sign he had heard, so I moved the hair away from his face. I stopped, shocked at the torment in David¡¯s gaze. ¡°This is he.¡± I held his little face in my hands, so much like Air¡¯s, and grief overwhelmed me.


    Morton took David, murmuring, ¡°What have they done to you?¡± But the boy didn¡¯t answer. Morton glanced at me. ¡°Let¡¯s get him out of here.¡±


    We hurried through the long room towards the stairs. It seemed Lady Luck smiled on us. We found the boy, and he was alive. All we had to do was go through the deserted storage rooms to our waiting carriage.


    This might just work.


    When we were ten yards from the staircase, a man spoke from the top of the stairs. ¡°He¡¯s on his way.¡±


    My heart began racing in fear. Who was on his way? Frank Pagliacci, or Jack Diamond?


    I gasped in horror as footsteps descended. We were trapped.

 Chapter 1: The Jacq of Spades - Round 22: The Fight

    A light-skinned man wearing a black vest and jacket and a black Derby hat came down the stair. He pulled a gun from his pocket in a relaxed manner, pointing it at us. ¡°Now, now, folks, don¡¯t do anything foolish.¡± He moved down the stairs and into the room, putting a row of boxes between us. ¡°Come on along, now, let¡¯s go.¡±


    I collapsed to the floor with a sigh. Morton looked down and I winked at him.


    ¡°Don¡¯t shoot.¡± Morton held up his hand. ¡°Let me help her.¡±


    ¡°Go ahead,¡± the man said.


    Morton knelt, laying David on the floor. Then Morton drew his gun and shot towards the man. I covered my ears just in time. David screamed, hiding his head in his arms.


    A shot rang out from the other side of the boxes an instant later, then a thud. The room fell silent.


    ¡°That was hardly honorable.¡± I was half-joking. After all, it was what I hoped he¡¯d do.


    Morton appeared unamused. ¡°Fuck honor. We need to get this boy out of here.¡±


    I stared at the bullet hole through the box just above my head. It didn¡¯t seem real.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on down there?¡±


    I gathered my skirts and peered out. The stairs creaked with the weight of several men descending. We took cover, pulling David behind the boxes.


    The first man stuck his head out from the corner where the ceiling met the stair, then withdrew. He then came down the stairs in a crouch, another man following, both scanning the room.


    I held my gun with both hands. They were targets. Roy stood over me, shouting. When the men were almost to the bottom of the stairs, I pulled the trigger.


    The blast was so loud it surprised me, but I hit the first man square in the chest. Elation swept over me. I did it!


    The man screamed in pain and fell down the stairs. Blood spattered and streaked on the white wall behind him.


    The second man¡¯s eyes widened in shock. He raised his gun, but I was faster. He clutched his chest, slumping down the stairs onto the other man.


    Morton stared at me in amazement.


    I yelled, ¡°Look out!¡±


    The man running down the stairs fired at Morton and missed.


    I didn¡¯t. This man tripped, sliding down the stair, landing just above his first companion. The stairwell was smeared with blood.


    Morton ran for the stair, pointing his pistol up it.


    Morton shot twice more. Gunshots and screams came from the stairwell. Two men fell into view, ending on top of the others. Morton returned to us. ¡°The others went back to the hall.¡± His words were so soft I almost didn¡¯t hear him.


    ¡°I¡¯ve never shot anyone before.¡± I know I spoke, but I could hear little even from my own mouth. But I felt I could fight the whole world. My pulse thumped in my ears, and the lights seemed too bright.


    ¡°You did well.¡±


    I saw no windows, vents, or openings of any kind. ¡°They won¡¯t keep coming down those stairs. We must find a way out.¡±


    ¡°Stop shooting,¡± one yelled from the top of the stair, ¡°we just want to talk.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m done talking.¡± Morton appeared to be speaking normally, but it came out as a whisper.


    I put my mouth near his ear. If I couldn¡¯t hear him, perhaps he couldn¡¯t hear me either. ¡°We can¡¯t get out unless they think we surrender.¡± I counted our shots: six. ¡°They don¡¯t know I have a gun.¡± I holstered my gun, but didn¡¯t secure the latch.


    Morton didn¡¯t say anything. When the men finished counting too, five of them, all light-skinned and wearing black, came downstairs with guns drawn. Morton made a show of putting his gun away and his hands in the air.


    ¡°You goddamn bastard,¡± a heavy-set man yelled at Morton, face red, ¡°I should shoot you right now. The deal was no guns.¡±


    Did they think we were stupid?


    Then he waved us along. ¡°You¡¯re lucky he wants you alive. Get the kid and let¡¯s go.¡±


    I felt terrified. ¡°He¡± wanted us alive? Who wanted us alive? What horror waited for us? My nightmare of Jack Diamond with his dagger flashed through my mind.


    David lay on his side, curled up, hands over his ears. I took him in my arms, and he seemed too light. We moved toward the stairs, towards the damp smells of blood and filth. I hugged David to keep myself from screaming as much as anything else.


    Morton let me go first. One of the gun-men went ahead, climbing backwards through pools of blood. A man lay on the stair face down, moaning piteously, a bullet hole in his back.


    Gore dripped down the wall beside me. The man on the stair moaned and sobbed, his gasps coming slower with each breath. Terrified of him grabbing my ankle, I forced myself to take another step up the stair.


    I thought of Air, and Herbert, and poor Mrs. Bryce. I gazed at the little boy in my arms, his large dark eyes, so much like Air¡¯s, staring up into mine, peering into my soul.


    I gazed into those dark eyes, and I knew that this child¡¯s life ¡ª or death ¡ª was up to me. Five men with guns held us. Who knew how many more awaited us at the top? No one was going to rescue us. No one even knew we were here.


    I had to get this child home, even if it meant my death. There had to be some way to escape. I couldn¡¯t let this boy fall back into Frank Pagliacci and Jack Diamond¡¯s hands.


    I would not let David die because of me.


    The man ahead of me stopped at the door. He kept his gun on me, but his eyes on Morton, holding the door open with one hand. As I passed him, I took several slow steps down the empty hall.


    I had an idea.


    I slowly turned, laying David down by the wall with a sigh. Then I knelt on the floor beside David. The man gave me a glance but kept his gun towards the open door.


    Morton came round the corner and into the hall, hands raised. The man at the door had his eyes fixed on Morton.


    I pulled my gun.


    Morton¡¯s eyes widened and he dropped to the floor.


    I shot the gun-man in the head. His gun fired as he slid down, gore streaking along his path. Blood spread from the dead man¡¯s head towards the staircase.


    The men downstairs were in an untenable position: if they came up the stairs, they would be shot. But we couldn¡¯t reach the dead man to shut the door without being shot ourselves.


    Morton scurried to our side, panting. ¡°I will hold the men back.¡± He began reloading his gun. A dark wet area stained the back of his right sleeve. ¡°Take the boy and go.¡±


    ¡°You can¡¯t hold four men off yourself, unless you brought a whole box of bullets.¡±


    Morton sat in thought. He took a penny from his pocket. He flung himself towards the open doorway, shooting as the coin clattered past the men.


    A scream came forth, along with the sound of something heavy hitting the stair and thumping down it. He rolled towards me as a return shot missed by a wide margin.


    When he reached the wall, he panted, ¡°three.¡±


    Morton was inventive, I¡¯ll grant that.


    I couldn¡¯t help but notice the slow thick drip in the stairwell.


    ¡°You must go,¡± Morton said. ¡°If they make it past me, you won¡¯t be safe.¡±


    I realized the wisdom of this: one of us would get killed at this rate, and not even I wished this on myself or David. Gratitude filled me. ¡°Thank you.¡±


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    ¡°Heh,¡± Morton said, taking off his jacket. ¡°Never thought I¡¯d hear that from you. Go on. I¡¯ll catch up.¡±


    I picked David up, rushing down the long hallway towards the room with the floodlights. Several shots rang out behind me. I crouched to the floor, fearful that one of the men had made it into the hallway.


    I glanced back but could see no one. David held his arms over his head, his eyes squeezed shut.


    No one seemed to be in the room with the lights, so I started past the stacks of boxes. A gunshot came from above and to the left, just missing us. Dropping to the floor, I dragged David to the left over next to a row of boxes.


    That was too close. I felt short of breath and shaky.


    ¡°IF YOU MOVE I WILL KILL YOU,¡± a voice said over a loudspeaker. The sound seemed to be coming from all around us.


    David shrieked and covered his ears with his hands. I held him close, sharing his terror.


    The voice was distorted. ¡°THIS IS THE ONLY WAY OUT.¡±


    I heard more shots from the stairwell behind me. After a few seconds of silence, frightened shouts, then a door slammed.


    Morton hurried to us, crouching. Red stained his left arm.


    ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    He laughed. ¡°Door¡¯s locked, that should give us a few minutes.¡± He began to get up.


    Terror surged through me. ¡°Wait ¡ª!¡±


    Another bullet whizzed past, knocking off Morton¡¯s hat.


    Morton cowered next to me against the boxes, jacket in one hand, eyes wide. ¡°What the hell?¡± A trickle of blood rolled down the side of his face near his hairline. Morton¡¯s hat rolled over on the floor, and it had a gouge in its crown and a hole in the brim.


    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯s Pagliacci.¡± He sounded nothing like Jack. ¡°Wherever he is, he can see us.¡±


    ¡°I KNEW YOU¡¯D COME WHEN I TOOK THE BOY. I COULDN¡¯T BELIEVE MY LUCK WHEN I SAW HIM. I PICKED HIM JUST FOR YOU.¡±


    So he did know me. Few people knew about that night, about what happened, about Air. About how much he meant to me. I closed my eyes and hugged little David, overcome with emotion. My mind ran through the faces in the crowd, Roy¡¯s men ¡­ who among those people would do this to me?


    ¡°I¡¯m out of bullets,¡± Morton said. The blood trickling down his face dripped to the floor.


    ¡°I¡¯M IMPRESSED. YOU THOUGHT TO TRAP ME INSTEAD ¡­ IT WAS A GOOD TRY.¡± He did sound pleased. His test seemed a success, at least to him.


    What sort of madman was he?


    ¡°IF IT WASN¡¯T FOR CRAB¡¯S FUCKING RED HANKIE IT WOULD HAVE WORKED. I KNEW HE TALKED WHEN THE FOOL GOT THAT RIGHT.¡± He laughed.


    How dare he mock a Spadros Associate? Heart pounding, I searched for a spot where I could see between the boxes. According to my sketches, an overseer platform lay up and to the left. Pagliacci must be there. The glare of the lights made it difficult to see him.


    I had the urge to ask about Pagliacci¡¯s motivations, but thought better of it. That would just give away my position, and I had as good a view of him here as I ever would.


    ¡°I HAVE YOU, AND WHEN THEY COME FOR YOU, I¡¯LL KILL THEM, ONE BY ONE. DO YOU LIKE MY PLAN?¡±


    I considered the question. This man was not only mad, but an amateur. He believed Morton wouldn¡¯t come armed. He had no idea I came armed. I counted ten of his men so far. If he had many more, where were they? And where were Jack''s men?


    Surely he didn¡¯t think Tony or anyone else would come to rescue me alone? The entire Spadros quadrant would compete to invade Diamond. They would tear this building to the ground.


    So Frank Pagliacci had a grudge against the Spadros Family. Him and most of the city.


    This made his alliance with Jack more plausible. But the boys¡¯ murders seemed an afterthought, a way to amuse himself, just as he used David and our men.


    A shadow, far up, walked back and forth, and the way he moved seemed familiar. I shielded my eyes from the glare of the floodlights, trying to get a good shot. I had two bullets left. I would only get one chance.


    ¡°STAY THERE. MY MEN ARE ON THEIR WAY.¡±


    Pagliacci leaned over the railing. The shadows around him lightened, showing dark clothing and relatively pale skin.


    The men in the basement began crashing against the door.


    We had to get out of here. Now.


    The world became silent. The sounds of failing hinges, Pagliacci¡¯s mad boasting, David¡¯s rocking, Morton¡¯s bleeding, all vanished.


    I saw the man on the platform. He was only a target.


    I took a deep breath, then shot just as he moved. He screamed. A tremendous crash far below, then silence.


    I felt astonished. I did it.


    Morton held his gun aloft. ¡°Run!¡± I grabbed David and followed. As we raced down the hall with the windows, the white-clad workers screamed and fled.


    A dark-skinned man in white stalked towards us from the front of the building. Panic struck me. Screaming in terror, I caught up to and passed Morton.


    When we got outside, Morton said, ¡°Keep moving, Pagliacci¡¯s men are here.¡± He sounded alarmed.


    I took a deep breath and handed him my gun. ¡°There¡¯s one bullet left.¡±


    He took it, gratitude in his eyes. ¡°Round the corner, cross the street, then three blocks right. Look to your left.¡±


    I hoisted David on my shoulder and fled. Several shots came from behind me. When I got to the corner, I went round it, across the street, then right as Morton directed, but no carriage sat there.


    Terror punched me, hard. I looked to my left: a torn newspaper wafted down the street. Morton had abandoned me.


    Tears of fear and disappointment filled my eyes. I took a deep breath, and blinked them away. He did say he would help as long as he could. I moved away from the factory, not knowing where I was going.


    My ears rang and I felt shaky, but the boy seemed light. I carried him as fast as I could run until exhaustion caught me and I had to slow to a walk.


    I set us down on a cracked wooden bench, panting, until my breathing slowed. My hands trembled, and I held my face with my hands, fighting the urge to vomit. I kept glancing around even so, terrified of seeing armed men appear.


    After several minutes, the nausea passed, and I peered at David. His eyes stared into emptiness. He sucked his thumb, rocking, curled into as tight a ball as one could at that age.


    ¡°David?¡± I brushed his straight black hair away from his face. ¡°David, I¡¯m Jacqui. I¡¯m taking you to your Ma. Can you walk?¡±


    Peedro Sluff grabbed my arm and yanked me in front of him. ¡°This is my daughter.¡±


    Roy Spadros let out a cold, cruel laugh, claiming victory over his mortal enemy. ¡°You¡¯re sure about that?¡±


    Fear crossed Peedro¡¯s eyes, which turned into determination. ¡°If she goes, I go with her.¡±


    Air yelled, ¡°No!¡± He dashed towards me, terror on his face, broken bottle in his little hand.


    Peedro Sluff squeezed my arm so hard it hurt as he turned towards Air. ¡°You¡¯re not ruining this for me.¡±


    Air leaped at Peedro, stabbing the broken bottle into Peedro¡¯s upper chest. ¡°Leave her alone!¡±


    ¡°You little shit!¡± Peedro shrieked, ¡°You cut me!¡± He pushed Air away with the gun in his hand, and the gun went off.


    David stopped rocking and stared in my eyes. I saw Air the instant he was shot, the moment he looked at me with those dark eyes that peered into your soul. The utter pain in his eyes, the knowledge his life was over, the emptiness, the longing. I put my arms around him and began to weep.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I sobbed. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry ¡­ I should never have gone there ¡­ I just wanted to help.¡±


    I don¡¯t know how long I sat there. I cried about everything: Air¡¯s murder, my lost life, what could have been. I cried until I couldn¡¯t cry any more.


    And this little boy who had gone through so much put his hand on my shoulder to tell me it would be all right.


    It was a while before I could speak.


    I put my forehead on David¡¯s. ¡°Can you walk?¡±


    He gave no answer, so after wiping my face with Zia¡¯s apron, I picked him up. He seemed much heavier now.


    I walked, arms aching, until I found a taxi-driver who would take me to the Spadros quadrant without payment in advance. Zia¡¯s pockets were empty.


    The whole trip, David said nothing, did nothing but rock, curled up there on the bench seat. ¡°Your mother sent me to find you. I¡¯m taking you to a doctor. Are you hurt?¡±


    The boy said nothing.


    At the bridge into Spadros quadrant, the driver said, ¡°She¡¯s taking the boy to a doctor. Looks like he needs one.¡± The guard took one look at David and waved us through, to my relief.


    Dr. Salmon didn¡¯t seem surprised to see me appear in maid garb, carrying a child. The doctor paid the taxi-carriage then sent a messenger to fetch the boy¡¯s mother. We stood there, somewhat awkwardly.


    I thought I might not have another chance to ask, so I did. ¡°Mr. Roy Spadros told me that he has known you since he was a boy.¡± My voice sounded too quiet, and buzzing filled the room.


    ¡°Yes, indeed.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯ve known Mrs. Molly Spadros for some time as well.¡±


    ¡°I have.¡±


    I was unsure how to proceed. ¡°How did they come to marry?¡±


    He smiled. ¡°What do you know of her background?¡±


    I wasn¡¯t sure how much he knew of mine. I shrugged. ¡°She told me she came from the same place as I.¡±


    He nodded, then peered at me for a moment, evaluating me. ¡°Yes, she did.¡± He paused. ¡°I first met her as a ¡­ young girl, really. She was sixteen. Mr. Acevedo Spadros called me to the Pot, wishing me to ensure she had no illness.¡±


    I felt confused. ¡°Mr. Acevedo?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Mr. Roy¡¯s father. The man was in his late 40¡¯s, if I recall ¡­ yes, his 50th celebration was later that year. But oh, he was smitten. I have never seen two people so in love.¡± His lined face lit with the memory. ¡°When she came of age, he brought her into the quadrant, set her up in a little grocery over on 2nd street. I believe a fabric store is there now.¡±


    A shock went through me at his words. ¡°Why in the world would she marry Mr. Roy?¡±


    ¡°You know what Roy is,¡± Dr. Salmon said, his tone bitter. ¡°I was never privy to their reasoning. I suppose they felt it a good way to move her into the house, to have their affair in front of Mr. Acevedo¡¯s wife without anyone knowing.¡± He shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s a miscalculation I¡¯m sure she regrets.¡±


    My vision blurred. I couldn¡¯t imagine the pain Molly must have gone through, losing the man she loved. And to such foul murder, betrayed by his own men. Men he trusted, men she probably trusted as well. Then to be yoked with Roy Spadros ¡­.


    Dr. Salmon gave me his handkerchief. ¡°As I told you before, she¡¯s a strong woman. I admire her a great deal.¡±


    And suddenly, I did too. She had been harsh with me at times, but only to make sure I survived. To live with Roy Spadros so many years and still live must have taken all the ability she possessed. ¡°I have underestimated her.¡±


    The doctor smiled. ¡°Many do. I hope one day the two of you become friends.¡±


    Through our entire conversation, the boy stared, sucking his thumb, rocking back and forth, as if his world were gone forever.


    Once his mother arrived, the doctor examined the boy. ¡°It as if he hasn¡¯t had a finger laid upon him ¡ª¡±


    ¡°Was he ¡ª?¡± Mrs. Bryce said, and it was clear from her tone what she meant.


    ¡°No,¡± Dr. Salmon said, shocked. ¡°No abuse of that kind ¡­¡±


    Mrs. Bryce sighed in relief.


    ¡°¡­ he¡¯s malnourished, but that can be rectified in time.¡±


    ¡°Why is he acting this way?¡±


    ¡°He suffered severe mental trauma, which may take time to heal. It¡¯s common in these cases for a child to regress to a former age. But gentle care over time will give him a feeling of safety. Eventually he¡¯ll come to his senses.¡± The doctor smoothed David¡¯s hair. ¡°You¡¯re safe now. Your mother will take good care of you.¡±


    But the boy never said a word. So we brought him home ¡ª it took all the money Mrs. Bryce had on her to pay for the taxi-carriage ¡ª and laid him in his bed.


    ¡°The police will come when they discover the boy is here,¡± I said. ¡°Don¡¯t trust them; don¡¯t let anyone near David. Tell your neighbors to watch for those men who took him. If David speaks, even one word, contact me at once. Our lives may depend on it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m so grateful,¡± Mrs. Bryce said. ¡°You brought my boy home, as you said you would. I¡¯m in your debt.¡±


    I shook my head, feeling bleak. It might have been kinder for all involved if the boy had been found dead, instead of in this terrible condition. But I tried my best to smile, and made my way outside.


    Mrs. Bryce lived on 2nd street.


    Spadros Manor was on 192nd.


    I had a long walk home.


    When I got three blocks away, the rain poured down, and me without an umbrella.

 Chapter 1: The Jacq of Spades - Round 23: The Vow

    As I walked up Snow Street in the lightning storm, sodden and discouraged, I thought about the Masked Man.


    Ma thought I slept. But after Eleanora took Air¡¯s body, the Masked Man entered our quarters. I peeked through the gap between the too-small door and its jamb. Ma told him everything while he listened.


    ¡°Well, this is a situation,¡± the Masked Man said.


    ¡°She¡¯s gonna ask,¡± Ma said. ¡°What do I tell her?¡±


    ¡°You know very well what to tell her.¡± They went out of view and sound.


    After he left, I heard my mother sobbing, and the memory brought me to tears as I walked that rainy street ten years later. It was the first and last time I ever heard her cry.


    I never saw him again.


    The rain poured down. A carriage pulled up beside me. Major Blackwood leaned out of the window. ¡°Madam, would you care for a lift?¡±


    I stared at him while a footman came round. Then I thought, what the hell, and got inside.


    ¡°Spadros Manor,¡± Major Blackwood called out, and the carriage lurched into motion.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said.


    The round old man smiled. ¡°Always glad to be of assistance, my dear. I almost didn¡¯t recognize you with that get-up on, but I had a time when I was temporarily snow-blinded when I was in the military, and I learned to take note of the way people walk as a means of identifying them. It is like a habit to me, and I was riding along and saw you and thought to myself, Major Blackwood, that is Mrs. Jacqueline Spadros walking in this hellish weather, and her without so much as a coat! Why, it wouldn¡¯t have been gentlemanly of me to just let you ¡ª¡±


    ¡°I appreciate your help. I would also appreciate you not speaking of this matter further.¡±


    ¡°But of course, my dear. I wouldn¡¯t think of it. I remember when I was in the military, the scrapes I got into ¡­ you know, once when I was in the academy, I lost a bet, and was forced to walk home wearing a DRESS!¡±


    ¡°Scandalous.¡±


    ¡°Quite! So I know the value of good and discreet acquaintances.¡±


    This man has done me a service, I thought. I underestimated him as well. The thought humbled me. ¡°Thank you. This means a great deal.¡± I paused for a moment, considering all the possibilities. ¡°Would you be available for Queen¡¯s Day dinner? I have a cancellation ¡­ if it wouldn¡¯t be too much trouble.¡±


    Major Blackwood beamed. ¡°I would very much enjoy the pleasure of dining at Spadros Manor. Very much so.¡±


    It took me a few minutes to persuade Major Blackwood to leave before I had gotten inside. He finally did after I told him my husband would be vexed if he learned I rode in a bachelor gentleman¡¯s carriage unescorted. This pleased the Major no end.


    When I went around the back, Rocket began to bark. I rushed into the house, keeping him outside as I locked the door. I managed to sneak into my bedroom and get into dry house clothes. Right as I exited the closet, Tony walked in, leaving the bedroom door open a bit.


    ¡°Good heavens, I thought you were with Mrs. Hart!¡±


    ¡°I was, and we had luncheon, and we went boating, but then the storm came up, and we were drenched! Fortunately she had clothes I could change into to return home. Pearson must not have heard my knock with the thunder, because I had to go round the back to get in.¡±


    Tony laughed softly and took me into his arms. ¡°You poor dear. What a day!¡±


    Rocket came bounding into the room, barking, the stable-boys and maids chasing behind, and shook water everywhere.


    ¡°Get that dog out of here!¡± Tony said. They dragged Rocket off, howling as he went.


    And so it was done, and no one was the wiser. I went downstairs later and told Rocket what a good dog he was. Both Pearson and the doctor looked at me strangely for a while, as if not sure what to think. I never explained to Dr. Salmon why I was with a traumatized boy and his mother wearing the blood-spattered dress of a maid. But he never asked, and to this day has never said a word about it.


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    Pearson never missed a knock or a bell, no matter what the weather. He must have felt a deep sense of personal failure at missing mine, especially since I had a terrible cold for the next few days. He was especially attentive to any bell for months after.


    Poor man ¡ª but it would have been suicide to appear at the front door in a maid uniform, much less tell anyone where I was that day.


    * * *


    We ran laughing down a glorious moonlit alleyway, then leaned against a wall.


    Air put his head on my shoulder. I put my arm around him, feeling safe and at peace as we gazed out at the wide plaza before us.


    Snow glittered on old Bridges: the soaring curved lines of the ¡®scrapers and mansions, the majestic statues, the stately fountains. Beautiful sleek steam automobiles chugged through the streets, while ladies in flowing gowns strolled past.


    Air¡¯s face was full of wonder. ¡°¡®Tis pretty, here at night.¡±


    Tony and I were wakened by a gunshot.


    We rushed towards the sound in the pre-dawn light, to find Tony¡¯s man standing aghast. Duck was dead, peacefully, as if asleep. Crab had put a gun in his mouth.


    We stood there stunned until Tony¡¯s man picked up a note, which had fallen to the floor:


    I am sorry to disturb your rest, but I can¡¯t bear to see another sunrise. I will do this one last service and spare you the trouble.


    ¡°I asked too much of him,¡± Tony said, his face stricken. ¡°I killed everything he held dear.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not your fault.¡± In truth, I wasn¡¯t sure, just as I wasn¡¯t sure about Herbert and Stephen. Or David.


    ¡°Where did he get the gun?¡± Tony said.


    Sawbuck came up behind us. ¡°Must have been when the doctors were with Duck. We put him in Mr. Roy¡¯s old room. Mr. Roy must have had a gun hidden in there; we never thought to search Crab afterward.¡±


    We stood there listening to Crab¡¯s blood drip on the floor.


    ¡°May they be dealt better hands next time,¡± Sawbuck murmured.


    Tony leaned against the door frame. ¡°I have lost four men, four more are badly injured, two horses had to be put down, a whole shipment lost ¡­ Frank Pagliacci has much to answer for.¡±


    I didn¡¯t know what to tell him. Was the man dead?


    I shot him. I heard him scream. I saw him fall.


    * * *


    We buried our men. I had Zia¡¯s uniform cleaned, pressed, and sent to the address on Blaze Rainbow¡¯s card. A few hours later, I happened to be downstairs when the bell rang. ¡°I¡¯m right here, Pearson, I¡¯ll answer.¡±


    A tear-stained messenger boy of about twelve stood with Zia¡¯s package, his bicycle on the ground. ¡°There¡¯s no such place, mum. I asked, and they laughed at me.¡±


    No such address.


    I took the package. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry they laughed. I¡¯m grateful you tried, and that you brought it back.¡± I put my arm around his shoulders and had Pearson find him a treat, which seemed to make them both happy.


    So Morton didn¡¯t live in Hart. Who was he? Why give a false address? Did he even work for the Harts, as he claimed?


    Perhaps he really was Blaze Rainbow, an investigator hired to find David and solve the mystery of the false Red Dogs. We both got much more than we bargained for on this case.


    But why abandon me and David and before we had gotten away safely?


    I suppose I no longer needed his help, and perhaps Zia needed him more. I couldn¡¯t fault a man for going to the aid of his sister. Joe would have done the same for Josie. But the fact that Morton took the carriage and left us irked me. And he didn¡¯t pay what he promised, either.


    A few days later, a large package came with my belongings. Included were my cleaned gun and my wedding ring, neither of which I thought I would see again. The package was without a sender, a postmark, or even a note. ¡°Amelia, who brought this?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, mum. Pearson said it wasn¡¯t the usual messenger boy; this one was much older, with an eye-patch.¡±


    * * *


    David constantly rocked, curled into a ball, sucking his thumb, just as I found him. He refused to sleep in his bed, hiding underneath it all night. His thirteenth birthday came and went. He grew taller; a few hairs sprouted on his chin.


    Mrs. Bryce brought in another doctor to examine the boy. No injury, no evidence of violation, but his mind ¡­. Whatever happened to him, David Bryce refused to talk, to walk, to do so much as feed himself, as if he became a babe again.


    Sometimes I visited, just to let Mrs. Bryce do her shopping. I sat with the boy as he rocked, asking, ¡°What did he do to you?¡± Just like the time I asked before, and the time before that, he gave no answer.


    I vowed to find the answer. Frank Pagliacci might be gone, but I had no doubt that Jack Diamond was involved in this boy¡¯s ruin, if only to offer that villain sanctuary.


    I was tired of his threats, tired of his madness, tired of being afraid.


    Jack Diamond needed to be stopped.


    This would not end until one of us was dead.


    ~This ends Chapter One of the Red Dog Conspiracy~


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 Chapter 2: The Queen of Diamonds - Round 1: The Headline

    A domed city split by four rivers, an island at its center. In the southeast quadrant, a white mansion stood on 192nd street in a heavy downpour. On the second story, a folded newspaper lay atop a tea-table.


    I sat at the tea-table gazing at the curtain of water formed by the rain as it passed over the eaves. Thunder cracked, whip-like, as lightning flashed. Black clouds hung in the early morning sky.


    Seven days ago, the gentleman investigator Blaze Rainbow and I rescued twelve-year-old David Bryce from his kidnappers. Could I ever forget the sound of blood dripping, the gore splattered on white walls, the screams and moans of dying men?


    This past week in my sickbed, I had ample time to consider this matter. The men I killed had friends, families, people who loved them. Could I have found another way to escape that basement and avoid whatever horrors Frank Pagliacci and Jack Diamond planned for us?


    A coughing fit struck, and when it passed, I drew my robe around me, exhausted. I had been ill ever since I was caught in the storm after delivering little David to his mother. Between sickness and my more womanly troubles of a monthly nature, the past week had been miserable. I lit a cigarette, gulped down honey-lemon tea, and unfolded the newspaper, hoping to find something more pleasant. Then I saw the headline:


    Alcatraz Coup 100th Anniversary Celebration Planned


    Clubbs Host Zeppelin Station Spectacular


    Back home in the Pot, March 1st was a day of mourning. Here, they celebrated.


    The Pot was once the most beautiful part of the city of Bridges. A hundred years ago, Xavier Alcatraz betrayed his king, Polansky Kerr. With the help of the first Acevedo Spadros, he slaughtered my people. Today the Pot lay in ruins, its inhabitants despised. The idea of celebrating their treachery almost made me throw the paper away.


    But then I discovered this article:


    ''Miracle Gem'' Health Benefits


    A Breakthrough in Modern Medicine


    The esteemed physician Dr. Overs Gocow of London presented a report at the Royal Academy of Science General Conference Tuesday with the results of his research into the spinel gemstone. According to his studies, this jewel provides benefit in various illnesses and a general health improvement to those without malady.


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    Dr. Gocow produced a document specifying illnesses treated with each gem color, with recipes for various tonics and elixirs. His document was received with acclaim from the physicians at the conference, who were interested in conducting their own research on the subject.


    Spinel is a naturally appearing gem, dug from the earth near the tonic spring near Agree, at the outpost located in Old Montana. It is thought that the gem''s proximity to the tonic spring may contribute to its beneficial properties.


    Being ill myself (and weary of it), I found this article fascinating. If I obtained a gem, perhaps I might avoid illness in the future. Where might I purchase one? I searched for more about these gems, and found this article in the financial section:


    Gemstone Merchants Posting Record Sales


    Trade in the so-called ''miracle'' gemstone spinel has been brisk over the past two weeks, with the price of the gems going up weekly. The Bridges Daily editor, Mr. Acol Durak, interviewed the noted Market Center financier Tenace Mitchell:


    AD: What are the future prospects for spinel sales?


    TM: This is the best investment in decades.


    AD: How did you come to this conclusion?


    TM: Any time you have a new product combined with a scientific breakthrough, the opportunity for profit is good. In this case, where the product brings clear health benefits, the price can only go up.


    We in Bridges are fortunate to have leading gemologist Dame Anastasia Louis with us. She obtained license to produce the tonics and elixirs according to Dr. Gocow''s specifications to be shipped for sale to the rest of the country.


    AD: So this discovery will bring jobs and commerce to Bridges as well.


    Could this be true? I didn''t recall the name Tenace Mitchell, but I had no knowledge of finance. I searched the paper further. In the classifieds, a large advertisement read:


    Louis Gemstones And Fine Jewelry


    Cut, Polished, And Set By


    "The Queen of Diamonds"


    Dame Anastasia Louis, Expert Gemologist


    Featuring "The Miracle Gem"


    15116 Snow, Spadros


    This sounded terribly exciting. Dame Anastasia had been one of my informants for years. Not only that, she lived on our very street. Why had she not once told me of it?


    My lady''s maid Amelia Dewey came in. Amelia was short, middle-aged, and plump, with brown eyes and graying black hair. "Ready for me to draw your bath, mum?"


    Being a "grand lady" (as Amelia put it once) was mostly a matter of routine. Wake, tea, newspaper, toast, bath, hair, dress, prayers, breakfast, morning meeting, and so on. Running a home with several dozen servants and supporting my husband in the Business was close to a full time job. Today, though, my husband Tony made it clear my only duty was to make myself presentable for luncheon today. Joseph and Josephine Kerr were invited, and their visit needed to go well.


    The Kerrs and I had once been the closest of friends. And my relationship with Joe had become so much more. But time seemed to have put distance between us, at least for their part. At our last meeting I was drunk, and behaved rudely. This luncheon was our attempt to learn how much damage had been done, and if possible, to make amends before the Queen''s Day dinner.


    I stood. "Yes, I''m ready." I felt I had already survived the worst I might ever face. No matter what happened, I knew I could handle it.


    I was a fool.

 Chapter 2: The Queen of Diamonds - Round 2: The Luncheon

    I clung to Tony''s arm, exhausted from my illness, eager to see Joe and Josie, yet afraid at the same time. I was so rude at our last meeting, yet they didn''t dare refuse our invitation. Had I offended my friends past forgiveness?


    But when our butler John Pearson opened the parlor door, I knew something was terribly wrong.


    The parlor itself looked perfectly normal: white paneling, pale blue sofa, white coffee table.


    Josephine Kerr sat, face in her hands, alone. She glanced up as Tony and I entered. Her skin was pink, her curly blond hair plastered around her face, her blue eyes red and full of tears.


    Now, looking back, I''m ashamed to say that all I thought of was Joe. Where was her twin? My heart began pounding at the thought that something might have befallen him.


    I glanced at Tony. He nodded, his blue eyes somber as he turned to go, but Josie said, "Please, Mr. Spadros, stay. I sorely need your counsel."


    Josephine Kerr was a year older than I. As a young girl, she led the High-Low Split, the most notorious (and now only) street gang in the Spadros section of the Pot. The girl who taught me to fight with knives in the streets and alleyways of the worst section of Bridges. The woman groomed to run her grandfather''s estate, chosen over her twin brother Joseph.


    Josie never asked anyone for counsel. I''d known Josie since I was born, and I''d never seen her cry before.


    I took Tony''s hand to keep mine from shaking, and drew him to sit across from her. "Josie, what''s wrong?"


    Her gaze was both horrified and bereft. "Oh, Jacqui," she said, "Joe''s been hurt."


    I felt an enormous sense of relief. Hurt. I feared from her demeanor that he had died.


    Tony ran a hand through black hair. "How? What happened?"


    Josie wiped her face with a handkerchief. She took a deep breath, and let it out. Then she spoke, slowly and with hesitation:


    "We were in the Hart countryside, a week ago. The day was ... so ... beautiful! Joe and six of his friends rode beside the carriage on horseback, while I and three of my friends rode inside.


    "You know how Joe is, Jacqui, always sporting. We passed a field, and he told the carriage to stop. It was time for luncheon so I asked if he wanted to eat there. He did, so the ladies and I began taking out the blankets and baskets with the help of our driver.


    "Joe was still a-horse, and challenged the men to race across the field to a thicket. It wasn''t far, oh, maybe a hundred yards off. I told him not to, Jacqui, I did. He knew nothing of the field, or of its dangers, but his friends joined in, urging him on, and off they went. I screamed for him to stop, but they raced ¡ª full on. I felt terrified for his horse, and I was right: just before the thicket, his horse stepped in a hole and threw him ... at speed."


    I gasped, stomach churning, and Tony squeezed my hand.


    Josie nodded. "He went into the thicket and flew over. But beyond that was an embankment, with a stone wall at its base, and then a terrible far drop."


    I leaned forward. What happened?


    "A stand of trees and bushes lay there. A large branch went through his leg, then he hit the wall at the bottom of the embankment so hard it cracked. The top part of the wall had blood all over it."


    It seemed incomprehensible. He hit a wall?


    Josie shook her head, face in her hands. "He hung ... by his leg ... over a cliff. I still can''t believe it. That branch was the only thing which kept him from going into certain death."


    Joe might have died? "A week ago?"


    When Josie spoke, she sounded afraid and defensive. At the time, I felt ashamed: I imagined she thought I blamed her. "It was terrible, Jacqui. A friend spoke to me and I glanced away right as the horse threw him. Then the men began to cry out for help, screaming for a doctor. I felt terrified Joe might be dead. I told the driver to unhitch the horse and go for a doctor, then my friends and I ran across the field to him. He lay in the branches, unmoving, blood dripping from his wounds. The men shouted and wept, distraught at the thought he might be dead.


    "It took us the rest of the day to bring him home. We were far in the countryside. It took two hours for a doctor to arrive. Thank the Floorman the other horses were unhurt, for we had to send for ropes so we could climb down to him. We had to saw the branch with our pocket knives to free him, to bring him safely away from the cliff. After the doctor came, we lowered him to Joe''s side so the doctor could remove the branch from his leg. Oh," her voice broke, "I can still recall how Joe screamed as we did so." She wiped tears from her cheeks. "We got a stretcher down to him so we might hoist him up. It took ten men to do so. The horse Joe rode had to be put down, it screamed as much as he did. It was terrible. Its leg ...." She shuddered. "Thank the Dealer Joe''s friend had a pistol to release the poor animal from its pain."


    "Oh, Josie." I went to her, holding her as she sobbed in my arms. After she calmed herself, I asked, "How can we help?"


    But Josie didn''t seem to hear me. "I came myself, the next day, once the doctor said he would live. I knew you''d want to see him, but they said you weren''t home. Didn''t they send my card?"


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    "They did." I sighed. "I''ve been ill. I''m sorry. If I would''ve known it was so serious, I would have come straight-away."


    Josie stared at me. "You''re ill? I''m so sorry. I should never have come." She began to rise. "I ¡ª"


    "Of course you should have come," Tony said. "You''ve done everything well. Sit, please. Mrs. Spadros is well now, and feels strong. We should have luncheon together, as we planned. Let''s go to the veranda. The sight of the gardens will be relaxing." He paused. "When you feel able to, Miss Kerr, of course."


    She sat staring at her hands. "How did you come to fall ill?"


    Tony smiled. "She went boating with Helen Hart. Can you believe it? All these years the Harts have been estranged from her, then invited to luncheon twice now. They were caught in that rainstorm last week and she''s been sick with coughing and fever ever since ¡ª until today, of course. What terrible luck."


    Josie stared at me unmoving, and I felt a spike of panic. I hadn''t been with Helen Hart that day. Did she know I lied? If so, what would she do?


    But she nodded without expression. "The same day we were in the Hart countryside. The day Joe fell. I saw the storm far off over the city while we waited for help to arrive." She took a deep breath. "I''m ready."


    I took her arm as we went out of the parlor, Tony following behind. Our butler met us in the entryway.


    "Pearson," Tony said, "we''ll take luncheon on the veranda."


    "Yes, sir." A middle-aged man with thinning brown hair, John Pearson strode ahead of us. We ambled after him, past the white paneled doors to Tony''s library, his study, my study, and the breakfast room.


    Josie said nothing as we walked, which was just as well: my mind was in turmoil. Joe was terribly hurt, for a week now, and I hadn''t been there for him.


    Of course the staff gave me her card. But they wouldn''t have known to tell me of the situation even if Josie shared it, which she wouldn''t have. Josie was a most private woman; she must trust us very much to let her distress show, especially in front of Tony, who she barely knew.


    The sun peeked through the clouds as we passed the breakfast room windows. The twigs in the garden glistened as we turned right, towards the dining hall. The veranda doors were at the left side of the large white hall, halfway down the room. A maid opened the glass-paneled doors for us.


    The air was warm for this February afternoon, and smelled of damp earth. My bird, white with blue-gray markings, chirped at us from its large white cage as we emerged. Amelia''s son walked far out in the meadow with our bomb-sniffer dog, Rocket.


    Josie seemed to notice none of this, going straight to the table. Tony pulled her chair out, then pulled out a chair for me to her left. The wide gray roof hadn''t let a drop from that morning''s storm reach the table, so the chairs were clean and dry.


    Pearson emerged. Two of his sons brought out a side table. Maids followed with serving platters and tablecloths, and began setting the table. The maids set out large white service plates and tea cups, with a small bowl of rosemary sprigs in the center. The scent of rosemary wafted in the air. I rose to pour the tea, then returned to my seat. Josie continued to stare dully at the table.


    Pearson''s daughter Mary came to the table in her maid uniform, black with a spotless white apron, and curtsied. "Smoked ham, roasted new potatoes, baked beans with fat pork."


    Josie nodded. I smiled up at Mary. "Thank you."


    Mary curtsied and began placing filled white luncheon plates edged in black atop the larger ones.


    Tony smiled at me. It was then I realized how nervous I was.


    Josie let out a weary sigh, and sipped her tea.


    We began eating. My bird chirped, another answered.


    "You mentioned that you needed my counsel," Tony said. "How may I help?"


    Josie nodded, not meeting our eyes. "The horse Joe rode was valuable, a beautiful sorrel. It belonged to my grandfather. Mr. Charles Hart gave the grand-sire to him when he first sponsored my grandfather into the Hart lands. My grandfather loved the horse''s offspring dearly, as he does Mr. Hart himself." She took a deep breath, let it out. "My grandfather is distraught at the loss, almost as much as with Joe''s injuries. But ... we only had the two horses to begin with. We have no way to replace it in a timely manner, and Mr. Hart has done so much for us already ..."


    Tony nodded. "Would it help if I spoke with Mr. Hart ¡ª?"


    A spike of fear. What if Tony learned I had never met with Helen Hart? That I lied to him all those times?


    "Or would one of our horses help? Until you can get another."


    Josie brightened. "Oh, Mr. Spadros, a horse would help so much. Just until we can replace it. We''re fortunate that his sire still lives. He is our carriage-horse, old, yes, but reliable. We can get a foal from him in the spring, I''m sure."


    Tony smiled. "You''re welcome to choose any from the stables you like. Keep it as long as you need."


    Josie''s face filled with gratitude. "Thank you so much, sir. You have no idea how much it will help."


    "It''s no trouble at all," Tony said. "Lady Luck has blessed the Spadros Family. I''m happy to help you."


    Josie''s eyes lowered. She smiled, blushing. "May I speak on another matter?"


    "Why, of course," I said.


    "Joe would be most obliged if you visited him," Josie said to Tony. "He''s been bound to his bed a week now, and is starved for company." Her shoulders drooped as she glanced aside. "Many of his friends no longer visit."


    I turned to Tony. "Might we go tomorrow after luncheon?"


    Tony shook his head. "I have a meeting tomorrow. But you can go, if you feel well enough."


    Pearson told me Tony had a meeting tomorrow, which was why I suggested it. "I''ll take the unmarked carriage." This plain brown carriage resembled a taxi, if you ignored the black horses and silver tackle of the Spadros Family. By using this carriage, we might visit other quadrants without attracting undue notice.


    Tony nodded. "Good idea. It''ll be safer that way."


    Always his concern was for my safety. Tony meant well, but his idea of "safety" often felt like life in a cage.


    Josie stirred at Tony''s remark. "Have you had trouble?"


    Tony put his fork down and leaned back in his chair. The room Crab and Duck died in was still being cleaned from the ordeal. "You might say that."


    My best friend Air, murdered in front of me the night I was sold to the Spadros Family ten years ago, had two brothers. Frank Pagliacci kidnapped twelve year old David Bryce (Air''s youngest brother) a month ago, framing the Red Dogs street gang for it. David''s seventeen-year-old brother Herbert and a fifteen-year-old Red Dogs member named Stephen Rivers tried to find David. The police found them strangled; I felt certain Pagliacci killed them.


    Two of Tony''s men were killed and two others kidnapped by Pagliacci''s men. Then they attacked Tony in his own warehouse. Frank Pagliacci released the kidnapped men after blackmailing them into spying on us. Pagliacci claimed he did all this to capture me then lure the rest of the Spadros Family to their deaths. But I believed this was a ruse to cover up his real intent.


    The two spies were dead: Duck, of infection after Tony shot him; the other, Crab, died at his own hand. David Bryce, now home safe, had so far refused to speak, his mind having reverted, it seemed, to that of a babe. I shot Frank Pagliacci, but I was no closer to bringing Frank''s mad accomplice Jack Diamond to justice than I was a week ago.


    I gazed at Tony. They tried to destroy us. Yet we survived it. Feeling a surge of fondness, I kissed Tony''s hand and turned to Josie. "We have had some trials, yes, quite serious ones, but they''ve brought us closer together." And they had. For the first time, I felt as if Tony valued me as more than just a woman, but something closer to an equal.


    Tony let out a breath, color rising in his cheeks, his gaze part incredulity and part hope.


    Sadness washed over me. Somehow, he knew that I held my heart from him these three years of our marriage.


    Josie gaped at us.


    And I felt ashamed.


    Her brother Joe and I promised ourselves to each other before I was kidnapped and brought here. Everything in his actions indicated he had lost interest in me. But what might her dreams have been?


    I dropped Tony''s hand. "I forget my manners sometimes."


    Josie smiled. "I''m glad to see you happy."


    I let out a breath. Yes. In spite of my worry for Joe, my grief over David''s ruin, my fears for the future ... yes, I was happy.

 Chapter 2: The Queen of Diamonds - Round 3: The Regrets

    After luncheon, Tony and I went with Josie to select her horse. Josie didn''t seem to care which one she took, but once she had pointed at one of our black stallions, Tony hurried to have our stable-man Peter prepare it.


    Once Tony was out of view, I said, "How''s Marja?"


    Marja was the Kerr''s housekeeper, and the mother of our mutual friend Ottilie, who was now dead.


    I brought our friends Ottilie, Treysa, and Poignee from the Pot to work here as kitchen maids. They said something to Tony after Inventor Call took me to see the Magma Steam Generator last month. I never learned what they said, but it offended Tony so much he had them killed.


    Josie shrugged wearily. "As well as can be expected."


    "I''m sorry you had to come here."


    "I must do what I need to," Josie said. "I''m not above begging for anything that will help my family prosper. Even from him."


    My vision blurred. She''s suffered so much. How can she bear it? I hugged her, but she didn¡¯t hug me back.


    ***


    After Josie and her driver left with the horse, I told Pearson cleaning could resume. He went to collect the staff.


    I climbed the stairs to that room above the parlor where Crab and Duck died. Poor Josie, caring for her brother in addition to grieving our friends and managing her grandfather''s business. No wonder the strain took its toll on her.


    Josie''s grandfather forbade her to marry so she might take care of his affairs. Yet he was, to all accounts, perfectly well. It seemed unfair to deny such a beautiful and talented woman as Josephine Kerr the chance at a home and a future. She sounded happy when we discussed the matter last month, but I wondered if she was beginning to regret agreeing to it.


    A week had passed since Crab and Duck died. The rugs had been removed and the tiles pried up. The wall where Crab''s blood lay after he shot himself had been scraped, scrubbed, and patched.


    My day footman Skip Honor came in wearing work clothes; Peter Dewey, our stable-man, followed behind. I nodded at them. "You''ve done good work."


    Peter ignored me. Honor said, "Thank you, mum."


    Amelia''s husband Peter hadn''t so much as looked at me since my mistake with Thrace Pike last month. Roy Spadros tortured Amelia to learn what happened, and Peter never forgave me for it.


    Pearson came in. "Jane''s ready for our meeting."


    I followed him downstairs and through the house. We went through the dining room then down to the kitchens. A small table and three straight-backed chairs were set up for the meeting. A large pot bubbled on the stove; good smells filled the air.


    A maid cried in Jane''s arms, flinching when she saw me. The maid curtsied. "My apologies, mum," she said, then rushed away.


    I hung back by the doorway. "I''m sorry to intrude."


    Jane was a stout middle-aged woman whose straight blonde hair mixed with gray. She shook her head, frowning. "The girl mourns Duck''s death." The way she said it ....


    Ah. The poor girl fancied him.


    Duck and his lover Crab betrayed the Family by spying on us for Frank Pagliacci, but ... "We all wish events passed differently."


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    Jane nodded. "Shall we sit, mum?"


    Pearson held my chair, then his wife''s, then sat between us.


    Jane took a small notebook from her apron pocket. "We need another barrel of baking soda. We''ve used up almost all of the one we have in order to absorb the smell upstairs. The gravel-man will be here next week to re-do the courtyard. The storms washed quite a bit away out by the street."


    "See to it." I turned to Pearson. "How are the staff?"


    "About Crab?" Pearson let out a breath. "We''ve never had such a thing happen here."


    I felt much the same way, and I hardly knew the man. "What can we do to help?"


    Pearson shrugged. "I''ll ask. Time heals most wounds, as they say. But perhaps something for them?"


    "That''s a good idea. An outing, perhaps?"


    Jane smiled. "That would be good, mum."


    "I''ll speak to Mr. Anthony about it." Then I came to what I wanted to say. "I''m sorry it''s taken so long for me to speak of this. I must apologize for the burden I put on you by bringing Pot rags to your kitchens. It was unfair to expect you to train them, and I regret all that happened."


    Jane became very still, staring at the table, face red. "It''s kind of you, mum, but there''s no need to apologize to the likes of me."


    "There is need. I''d like for you to choose your replacement."


    She shook her head slightly, head bowed, lashes moist, nose reddening. "Has my performance distressed you, mum?"


    Oh, dear. "No! Not at all! I''m most pleased with your work. There''s better work for you to do here. You perform the tasks of a housekeeper plus your own, and since we lack one ..."


    Jane''s head jerked upright, her eyes wide. "Me? Upstairs, running the house?"


    "I can''t think of anyone better."


    Jane looked to Pearson, joy in her face. "Oh, John, can you believe it?"


    Pearson put his hand on hers then turned to me. "We''re most grateful, mum."


    "As am I." I smiled at the fond glance which passed between them, then rose. "You have until the outing to choose your replacement. Please inform me when you''ve decided."


    They both rose hastily. "Yes, mum," Jane said, and curtsied. "Thank you, mum."


    I took their hands. No one else was in the kitchen, but I spoke softly. "I''m also grateful to you. I''ve been here since I was twelve. And you''re near thrice my age. It feels strange for you to call me mum, especially ..." I felt at a loss for words, "me being a Pot rag and all."


    "You must never say such things," Jane whispered fiercely. "Never. You''re Mrs. Spadros now. Forget all else."


    Something in her voice made me shudder: to this day I don''t know why.


    ***


    That evening after dinner, I took to my room and lay in bed. Even though my health had improved, I still tired easily. Tony leaned against the pale blue cushion at the head of the bed as we held hands in the golden lamplight.


    I thought back to our luncheon with Josie, Tony''s reaction to my comment, the things he had said and done.


    Tony truly loved me.


    A month earlier, I couldn''t have said the same. But the way he stood up to his sadistic, brutal father swayed me. I felt proud of how he had grown as a person. Was this love? I had no idea.


    I gazed past Tony to the pictures on the wall. Landscapes of places I had never been, portraits of strangers, all in pale grayish-white frames. My least favorite color for many reasons, not that anyone cared what I thought. But one picture looked familiar. "Who''s that man?"


    "What man?"


    I pointed to the portrait of a pale, black haired man with a sober face and blue eyes. He resembled Tony and Roy, so I assumed he was some relative.


    "That''s my grandfather, Acevedo Spadros II. My mother says he was the most loving, generous man in the world." He paused. "He died when I was two. I have no memory of him."


    A week ago, our private surgeon Dr. Salmon told me of the affair Acevedo Spadros II had with Tony''s mother Molly, and of Acevedo''s murder by his own men.


    Tony said, "Why do you ask?"


    Then I remembered who the man reminded me of. "I saw the most beautiful child a few weeks ago. He looked very much like your grandfather. Well, if your grandfather had dark brown skin and curly hair."


    "Oh?"


    I rolled to face him, and raised myself on an elbow. The lamplight glared in my eyes, leaving Tony''s face in shadow. "You should''ve seen him. He was exquisite: the sweetest black ringlet curls, dark eyes, and a lovely smile." I lay back on the bed, facing the ceiling. "He was about four. His little ball rolled past while I walked, and I fetched it for him. He said, "thank you" with this tiny high voice ... he was the most adorable child I''ve ever seen."


    Then I felt melancholy. That could have been our son.


    Give him lighter skin, straighter hair ... but I could picture Tony and I having a child very much like him.


    I secretly took a special "morning" tea to keep from bearing Tony a child. My monthly flow began the day Crab shot himself. After everything that happened in my life ¡ª kidnapped, forced to marry, unable to see my mother ¡ª I wanted some choice in when I would have a child. But now ... I began to regret it.


    Tony took my hand. "We''ll have children one day. The doctor says it can take time, especially with the first." He paused. "I read about new locking mechanisms for carriages. They lock from the outside, so children don''t fall out. I told Pearson to have all the carriages fitted with them."


    I stared at the ceiling, wanting to weep. Did Tony feel at fault for his lack of an heir?


    I put his hand on my cheek and closed my eyes, feeling the warmth of his hand, willing back tears. Tony would be a good father. Why am I denying him the chance to have a son? It no longer made sense to me.


    I would visit Joseph Kerr tomorrow. If he didn''t speak of how he felt I would ask, as inappropriate as it might seem. I would know for certain one way or the other. If Joe no longer held feelings for me, I would stop taking my morning tea and let the cards be dealt as they were.

 Chapter 2: The Queen of Diamonds - Round 4: The Memories

    Tony said, "Was the child alone? The little boy?"


    I opened my eyes and sat up, turning towards him. "Oh, no, not at all. He had a young nanny with him, a girl of maybe eighteen. She said her name was ... oh, yes, Octavia Diamond. She had skin a bit lighter than mine, and long blond curly hair! She looked nothing like a Diamond. I almost didn''t believe her."


    Tony gave a short laugh. "Probably a distant cousin, perhaps one ''under the table''. I have cousins that look more like Diamonds than some Diamonds do."


    I thought of our Inventor, Maxim Call: wiry and brown, with those piercing blue Spadros eyes.


    "She said they were from the country, so you''re probably right. The boy, now he looked a Diamond, to be sure." I pictured his little face. "He looked very much like Jon and Jack, now that I think of it. His name was Roland."


    Jonathan Diamond was my best friend. His decidedly unwell brother Jack, who threatened my life every time he got the chance, was Jon''s identical twin. I peered at Tony, squinting at the lamplight''s glare. "Jack''s middle name is Roland, isn''t it? Could the child be his son?"


    Tony snorted. "Hardly. I don''t think Jack Diamond has much regard for women, not in that way. And Roland is a very common name among the Diamonds."


    "Yes, I suppose it must be. It''s astonishing how much the boy resembles them, now that I think of it. But I suppose he could belong to one of their older brothers, or a cousin." I sat up next to him. "He must be an upper; the girl called him ''Master Roland.'' I don''t recall anyone using those terms to speak to a child until I came here." It was a puzzle, and I enjoyed such things. "Yes, Octavia must be a distant cousin; she and the boy didn''t look much alike. She was pretty, though, and the boy seemed happy."


    "Happy," Tony said. He sounded wistful, and I recalled his lonely childhood, forbidden all playmates but one after his older brother''s assassination. "Was the boy well cared-for?"


    "Oh, yes, the nanny seemed quite attentive. I loved the way he skipped after her as they went. They were going to see if a calf had been born yet, if I remember correctly."


    Tony leaned back, closing his eyes with a deep sigh. I rested my head on his shoulder, remembering myself at that age, back home in the Pot. How happy I felt, playing in the ruins of old Bridges with my best friend Air and my Ma.


    I would give anything to see them again.


    Tony put his arm around me and held me until I fell asleep.


    Blood dripped down the walls as I went up the stair, one step at a time. My friend Air, still looking as he did when he died ten years ago, his seventeen-year-old brother Herbert, and fifteen-year-old Stephen lay moaning and twitching on the steps, their wounds horrible to behold.


    I held something in my arms that grew heavier with every step. I looked down: Joe gazed up at me.


    The room was hot. When I glanced behind me, Jack Diamond, head shaved and dressed in white, crept up the stairs on all fours. Even though the stairwell was awash with blood, his clothes and hands were spotless. He drew closer behind me, and my terror grew as I tried to flee. I moved so slowly ...


    Jack Diamond grabbed my ankle. "I have you now."


    I shrieked and came awake, tangled in the covers.


    "Jacqui?" Tony sat up, sounding more sleepy than alarmed.


    Our night footman Blitz Spadros rushed in, candle in hand, his face glowing orange in the candlelight. "Are you well, mum?"


    My heart pounded; I felt bathed in sweat. "A dream." Tears of humiliation filled my eyes. "I''m sorry."


    Tony flopped backwards onto the pillows. "I hoped maybe ¡ª maybe they were gone. You didn''t have any for a whole week." He smoothed my hair, kissed my forehead. "I''m sorry."


    Blitz gave us a small smile. "I''ll leave you then." He closed the door behind him.


    I clung to Tony and began to cough, to cry. "I thought maybe they were gone too." That one was bizarre, so unlike the others, which had up to now mostly been memories.


    "You think the doctor has something to help you sleep?"


    I shook my head in the darkness, discouraged. This had been my life for the past ten years. "I don''t know."


    I never returned to sleep after my nightmare. All I could think of was that I would see Joe again. Yet horrible visions of how his injuries might appear ran through my mind.


    It felt like forever before I left home to visit the Kerrs.


    The Kerrs lived in Hart quadrant, which was in the northwest part of the city. To get there, we drove past the slums and the Spadros section of the Pot (hidden safely from view by wrought iron and tall hedge) onto Market Center, an island in the center of Bridges. We then drove around the Plaza, over the bridge, and onto the close-laid red brick streets of Hart quadrant, where Joseph and Josephine Kerr lived with their grandfather.


    The day was overcast and chill, and the air smelled of wood smoke. When my carriage arrived at the Kerr''s home, my day footman Skip Honor helped me to the sidewalk. And I thanked him, as I always do. It was considered unseemly for uppers to acknowledge the servants in any way, but I didn''t care. I treated them as people, even though ten years ago they despised me as much as anyone else for being a Pot rag.


    No one met me out front, so I went up the brown stone steps and knocked on the wooden door. Marja, a middle aged woman with brown hair, opened the door, tears rising in her eyes when she saw me. "My little J-Bird," she said, hugging me tightly.


    The summer afternoon sun streamed orange onto the far wall of the cathedral while Ma and Marja cooked. Josie, Ottilie, Poignee, Treysa and Joe sat with me, playing dice on the floor.


    Grief swelled inside my chest. "I had nothing to do with Ottilie''s death."


    "I know," Marja whispered. She let go and stood before me, squeezing her eyes shut. "They was shot in the head and thrown in the Pot like trash." She glanced up at me. "Did you know?"


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    I shook my head, horrified.


    She stared into emptiness. "Leave the city. It''s not safe."


    "Why? What''s going on?"


    She glanced around. "Not here."


    "Marja!" Josie''s voice from the top of the stairs startled me. "Jacqui is Mrs. Spadros now. She doesn''t have time to speak with servants. Mr. Kerr is going to have something to say about this."


    Marja cringed. "Yes, mum. My apologies, mum."


    I went up the brown wooden stairs. "Josie, don''t blame her. Her daughter just died. I was bringing condolences."


    "You''re too kind," Josie said, but she sounded annoyed. "She''s been reprimanded more than once about this."


    I stared at Josie, appalled. "Marja has been like a mother to you. Why are you treating her this way?"


    Josie''s beautiful face grew stern. "Do I tell you how to treat your servants?"


    "No, but ¡ª"


    "Then don''t tell me how to treat mine."


    This wasn''t like Josie at all.


    "Jacqui," she said, as if explaining to a child, "we''re Kerrs. Not only that, we''re Pot rags. Everyone here hates us. We have to be like them if we''re going to survive. Marja can''t grasp that."


    "No you don''t," I said. "We''re better than this."


    Josie shook her head, and her stern demeanor faded, her face pensive. "Our situation is very different from yours. " She patted my hand. "Be grateful." Then Josie smiled. "Joe''s waiting for you."


    Something was terribly wrong here. Why would Josie treat Marja so poorly? Surely she could help Marja understand without being cruel to her. Had Josie''s worry for Joe become too much for her to bear? Heart pounding, I followed Josie, afraid of what I might see.


    Josie took my hand. "I''m grateful you''ve come. He''s spoken of nothing else since I told him you were to visit." She brought me down a hallway paneled in brown wood to a door.


    Joseph Kerr had always been, to me, the most beautiful man in the world. Golden brown skin, green eyes, brown hair, he lay in bed wearing white flannel pajamas. He turned his head towards us and smiled.


    Joe had the most glorious smile, the smile of a very small child. In it held pure unabashed happiness, the utter joy of life. Every time he smiled, I fell in love with him all over again.


    "Oh, Jacqui," he said, "am I glad to see you."


    Joe''s right leg was in a cast, his left, strung up in a brass mechanism with many gears which held it aloft. Pulleys and weights attached to his left thigh, which lay bare. His left pajama leg was cut away, revealing the lower end of a well-muscled, badly bruised thigh. His right arm was in a burgundy and white sling. Many cuts and bruises adorned his face, along with a large bandage on his head. His left hand he held out to me. "My sweet Jacqui, you''re finally here. You look just as beautiful as I remembered. Come to me."


    I hurried to his side, sat on the chair beside his bed, and took his hand in both of mine. "Are you in pain?"


    He lay back on his pillow, languid as a cat. "Some, but the doctor says it''ll pass. Josie tells me I''m fortunate to be alive."


    I nodded, mesmerized by his eyes.


    "How are you, Jacqui? I''ve missed you so."


    I took a deep breath. The room smelled of antiseptics and clean linens. "I''m well." I glanced at the contraption he was placed in. "Will you be well enough to come to dinner?"


    "The doctor says in another week I can be free of this, if all goes well. Then I can be wheeled about like a babe in a pram." He chuckled, then his face turned solemn. "Josie told me not to race that field, Jacqui. You mustn''t blame her." He gazed up at his sister, who stood beside me. "I understand now that she is much more intelligent than I." He turned to me. "I will follow her advice from here henceforth, to the letter. I promise."


    I squeezed his hand. "I''m glad to hear you laugh. I feared you would be downcast."


    "No," Joe said. "I feel good." He gave a contented sigh. "Especially now you''re here." He paused. "Tell me more of the dinner. Who else will be there?"


    "Let''s see ..." my eyes lost focus as I went over the list. "Jonathan and Gardena Diamond, Lance Clubb and his sister Kitty, Dame Anastasia Louis ¡ª" His hand spasmed, as if he felt a sharp pain, but when I glanced at his face, he seemed well. "¡ª and Major Blackwood. And of course, Tony and I, and the two of you."


    Josie said, "I look forward to it."


    "Josie, would you fetch a blanket?" Joe said. "I feel a chill."


    Josie left the room, closing the door behind her.


    I had a sudden thought: Joe and I were alone, in his bedroom. He was partially clothed, and I held his hand.


    I recalled Tony''s outrage and terror for my reputation when I went to the Apprentice''s area and the Magma Steam Generator "unescorted," even though our Inventor accompanied me, a man old enough to be my grandfather.


    This scene was probably not what Tony had in mind when he allowed me to come here.


    "I only have a little time," Joe said, "so I will be brief."


    He sounded so serious that I felt afraid.


    "I''m so deeply sorry for the time I''ve been away from you. Words can''t describe how much I grieve over missing these years of your life. The torment you must''ve endured at the hands of the Spadros Family! And I wasn''t there to comfort and protect you. The thought tears at my soul."


    I felt astonishment, and hope.


    "I think of you every day. I dream of you every night." He gripped my hand. "I ¡ª forgive me, but I feel this is my last chance. I must speak, though you never wish to see me again.


    "The night you were taken, I was taken too. Taken here, beaten daily, told to do things I didn''t understand. I still don''t understand most of it. We''re not like these people." He paused, glancing away for a long moment, then gazed into my eyes. "I long for you desperately. The only thing which kept me sane was thoughts of seeing you. But when I''ve been allowed near you, it was in the presence of others. I feared to speak or show any hint of my regard for you. I was in terror of what might happen. This," he held up our hands, clasped together, "is utter bliss. Yet I fear I''ve lost you."


    I gaped at him, stunned. "I ¡ª I''m ... I''m ¡ª"


    "Yes, I know. Married. Three years now." He lowered our clasped hands to the bed. "You''re married. Bound to another for life." He closed his eyes for several moments. "What traps these quadrant-folk lay for each other." He paused, then turned to me. "Did you come to love him? Did you give yourself gladly? At least tell me that."


    The coldness of the gun behind my neck as Roy and I stood outside the chapel ... the terrifying click of the hammer ...


    I stared at my lap.


    ... the horror as Tony undressed me that first time ... Roy''s words repeating in my mind "Make us believe it, now and for all time, or you''ll be dead."


    Enduring that night had taken everything Ma taught me.


    "... find a place to go inside, if you truly can''t abide him," Ma said long before, when it became clear what was to happen to me. So that night, I did ... and eventually, I found Joe.


    I shook my head.


    "Do you love him now?"


    Tony''s gentle touch, his loving words, his determination to stand against his father ...


    My first impulse was to say yes.


    But I couldn''t say that with Joe here, his precious hand in mine, saying he loved me. Tony never made me feel like Joe did.


    No. I don''t love him. Not like I love you.


    "I don''t know," I whispered.


    Joe closed his eyes and pressed my hand to his lips. Then he opened his eyes. "I''m not going to tell you what to do, Jacqui. I don''t know what you should do. All I know is ¡ª all you need to do is say the word and I''ll be there."


    My confusion must have shown, because he said, "Have you forgotten our last night together?"


    ... how we kissed, the way he smelled, the way he touched me ...


    I smiled, the warmth of his love flowing through me. "How could I ever forget?"


    "I meant what I said, Jacqui." His voice dropped to a whisper. "As soon as I''m well, I''ll take you and we''ll leave Bridges, lose ourselves in some other city. They''ll never find us." He paused. "If you''ll still have me."


    If I would still have him? I had almost given up hope. "Dealer help me," I whispered. What was I to do?


    "I have to get out of here," Joe said. "I can''t live like this anymore. And I can''t ¡ª I won''t leave without you. My grandfather is a monster. The things he''s done ¡ª" Joe shook his head. "He doesn''t know you''re here. We plan to tell him you came, then left when you heard I was unable to come down. He would kill me if he learned I told you these things."


    I stared at him, horrified. "Why do you stay?"


    "Why do you stay?" He turned his head away. "I know of Roy Spadros. I''ve heard of his brutality, his torture room, his disregard for life." He turned his head to look at me. "What keeps me from despair is that he threatened your home and family, and that you''re a woman who values her kin. I have to believe this is why you stay in such a terrible place."


    I nodded. "I tried to run once. Roy threatened to kill my Ma, burn the Cathedral with everyone inside, even the little children, should I step in the Spadros Pot again."


    Joe stroked my fingers with his thumb, then he sighed. "My grandfather threatened you, Jacqui. He vowed to kill you if we had any contact ¡ª this is why I never came to you, never wrote you. He vows to kill you every time I make a wrong step. The thought torments me." He gazed in my eyes, and I saw the fear there. "I live in terror of some harm coming to you because of me. He knows I would rather die."


    I squeezed his hand in mine and kissed it, then held it to my cheek, my heart full.


    My mother-in-law Molly had spoken of a threat directed at me. I couldn''t fathom who would target me besides Jack Diamond and another of my enemies, Judith Hart. Now I had one more name for the list. I kissed Joe''s hand, and gazed into his eyes. An electric feeling hit deep in my soul; our hearts touched, and became one.


    Josie came in carrying a blue woolen blanket, and spread it over him. "Grampa will be back soon."


    "Jacqui," Joe said, "you must go. He must not find you here."


    I nodded, and rose, still holding his hand. "I''ll visit when you tell me it''s safe."


    Josie grabbed my hand and led me to the door. I glanced back, and Joe mouthed, "I love you."

 Chapter 2: The Queen of Diamonds - Round 5: The Problem

    Josie and I hurried down the stairs; my carriage and coachmen stood before us. The wind blew stronger, tiny sprinkles of rain falling here and there. But I barely noticed them.


    Joe loved me.


    No other carriages were on the street, and Josie let out a sigh of relief. "Grampa won''t be angry at you being out here. But if he saw you were in the house, in Joe''s bedroom ¡ª"


    I nodded, picturing Tony''s reaction. "I understand."


    She lowered her voice. "Jacqui, there''s something I must discuss with you."


    "What is it?"


    "Helen Hart was not out boating last week."


    I stared at Josie, dismayed. That was my cover story the day Blaze Rainbow and I went to the Diamond Party Time factory to rescue David Bryce from his kidnappers.


    "Helen ... Mrs. Hart ... is a dear friend. She''s been ill for many weeks. She was with child, but the pregnancy went poorly. Very poorly. That day you were out, the day Joe and I were in the Hart countryside and he was hurt so badly, she lay bleeding. It was sudden and unexpected. She herself almost died, and the baby was born much too early, dead. Not many know of this; she has lost several babes in the past, and they didn''t want the newspapers to get word. Her difficulty is why she wasn''t at the Grand Ball with her husband Etienne, our Inventor."


    I nodded. I had wondered about that.


    "But Jacqui ... where were you? Why did you tell your husband you were with Helen Hart, of all people? I felt appalled when he said so. I didn''t know what to say there at the luncheon. I felt you caused me to lie for you in front of all those people ¡ª your husband, the maids, your butler ¡ª to cover up whatever it was you were doing that day. Why would you lie about where you were? What were you doing?"


    I had never seen her so upset in my life.


    "Were you out with a man? Is there someone you love other than Joe?" She put her hand to her forehead. "I can''t conceive you to be so false. It can''t be true. It would break Joe''s heart."


    Of course I hadn''t been with some other man; I had been saving a little boy''s life. Could I trust her with that information, though? What had she gone through these six years? How had it changed her?


    A carriage came down the street from far off. "You must go," Josie said. Honor stood beside my carriage door, waiting.


    I stopped a stone''s throw from my carriage, turned to her, and whispered, "Please don''t speak of this to anyone. I beg you. There is an explanation, but I can''t give it now, there''s no time. Please. I ... I love Joe. I would die before harming him. Don''t wound him further with these speculations. Please believe in me; await my story before making accusations."


    "I will. But this ''explanation'' had best be a good one." Her tone made her message clear: I will not have my brother hurt by you.


    I felt stung, yet grateful of her willingness to hold judgment, at least for a while. "Thank you."


    Honor stood by the opened door several feet off, a question in his eyes, but saying nothing. I took his hand and got into the carriage, and waved to Josie, who went into the house without waving back.


    Honor glanced at me. "Is all well?"


    I nodded. "Her brother is badly hurt and she''s distressed. She''ll be well; she has family and friends beside her."


    Honor nodded. "Let us be off then. Spadros Manor?"


    "Yes, thank you."


    It was a long ride back to Spadros Manor, and I spent most of it in turmoil.


    Why would Morton ... Master Blaze Rainbow ... why would he say Helen Hart invited me to luncheon? Why did I listen? Why did I go along with his plan?


    I knew he was lying. I knew he was untrustworthy after he grabbed me in that alley. I would never have considered the idea of boating with Helen Hart if Blaze Rainbow had not brought it up. And I went along with it.


    Now I was in a serious predicament.


    Who thought I was with Helen Hart those two times? Would any of them be able to hear otherwise? Who besides Josie might learn of Helen Hart''s illness and my ''luncheons'' both?


    I thought back. Pearson, the maids, Honor, the driver that day, Jonathan, Tony ...


    The biggest problem was Tony. If he ¡ª or worse yet, his father Roy ¡ª happened to speak with one of the Harts ... for example, about the horse ...


    Betraying the Family held the death penalty. My father-in-law Roy preferred torture to a clean bullet to the head. Probably one of the reasons Crab shot himself after Duck died, rather than wait to see which Tony intended for him.


    I didn''t want to die. Not when I finally had a chance at life.


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    Stop, I thought. I had to remain calm. As far as I knew, no one but Josie suspected me. Somehow I would reason this out. But I would never be able to do so while in a state of agitation.


    Roy would never speak with Charles Hart; he hated Mr. Hart as thoroughly as a man could hate anyone. I couldn''t imagine how Roy might learn of my visits with Helen Hart. He hadn''t been to the house since he and Tony argued several weeks ago.


    I sat watching the river as we crossed into Spadros quadrant, and I realized that all this thought and agitation was merely a way to distract myself from the real question: what was I going to do about Joe?


    ***


    After dinner, Tony and I sat in his study in front of the fire as he held my hand. He said nothing about my somber mood, but I had learned to read him. Though he was a master at keeping his emotions from most people, he seemed to relax, even be vulnerable in my presence.


    It made me feel sad.


    When he finally spoke, I knew a moment before what he would say, and the sincerity with which he would say it. "How is Master Kerr?"


    I shook my head. "Sorely hurt, but able to speak. I''m astonished he spoke with such clarity. He had a terrible large bandage on his head."


    The realization hit me as a shock: would Joe remember our conversation? Could his words have come from being impaired in some way?


    Did he really still love me?


    What a fool I was not to see the import of the bandage before I sat with him. "He claimed the doctors would release him from bed in time for the dinner, but I''d be surprised if they attend."


    Tony shook his head. "It''s a pity; I hoped to spend the evening with them and have them meet others in our society. They need assistance in that regard: most doors are closed to them simply because of their name." He almost seemed to be speaking to himself, rather than to me. "It seems unfair." He paused for several seconds. "I understand being judged because of your ancestors ¡ª because of your father."


    I patted Tony''s hand. "Once Joe''s well, we can have them over as often as you like."


    He smiled and reached into his pocket. "I have something for you." He produced a small box. Inside was a silver chain with a single moonstone, which he placed around my neck. "One of the health gems," he said. "So you''ll get well soon."


    I gasped, overwhelmed with his thoughtfulness, and threw my arms around his neck, kissing his cheek. "Thank you so much."


    Pearson''s heavy tread approached the door, and he knocked. I extricated myself quickly and smoothed my hair.


    "Come in," Tony said.


    "A letter for you, sir, from your father. The messenger said it was most urgent." Pearson put the letter into Tony''s hand.


    What could Roy Spadros possibly wish to write us about at this hour? Most urgent probably meant the old monster scared the boy half to death. "Make sure you give the boy something for his trouble and tell him all is well."


    Pearson nodded. "Yes, mum." He closed the door behind him.


    Tony snorted, then handed the letter to me:


    Anthony ¡ª


    Word has reached me of your mishap, and I am appalled at your reckless actions and the loss of your men. Your mishandling of this situation has cost lives and allowed this villain to make a mockery of the Spadros Family. You must allow me to take over this interrogation to learn the truth of the matter.


    I also must speak with your wife at once. I await your invitation.


    I shook my head, astonished. Whatever Tony told Roy must have been just the thing to say. I had never seen Roy beg before.


    I handed the letter back to him. "What will you do?"


    He crumpled the letter into a ball and threw it in the fire. "I don''t need him to run an investigation of what has gone on in my home or my warehouses. And I certainly won''t allow him to come here and mistreat you again."


    So he did know what happened. "Who told you?"


    "I suspected you hid something the day you claimed to be stung. So I searched for evidence of your story and could find none. No nests, and the staff reported that my father did not leave straight-away as you said, but questioned you for several minutes before he left. The kitchen staff told me you went to Amelia''s rooms with your dress torn and your face injured.


    "I got the truth from the doctor after much trouble. When I confronted my father, his reaction corroborated it even as he cast vile accusations and excuses as to why he would strike my wife." Tony touched the side of my face. "Even your bruise held the marks of my father''s hand. I realized you were terrified of him and feared harm coming to me if you told the truth." He leaned over, kissing my forehead. "That you would take such a terrible blow then hide it to protect my life ¡ª it made me see how much you loved me." He laid his hand on my shoulder. "I''m sorry I sent you away the night you came to me. I was in such turmoil over the things my father said ¡ª" He paused for a long moment, as if he meant to speak, then shook his head, dropping his hand to the table between us. "No. There was no excuse for my behavior."


    I took his hand, my eyes stinging, my heart heavy. "I wish I could be the wife you deserve."


    I meant it. Tony deserved so much better.


    Tony sat up straighter and leaned towards me. "Never say that! You are the wife I deserve. You''re the most precious thing in my life." He took my chin and turned my face towards him. "Do you not believe in my love for you?"


    "I do." That was the problem.


    I turned away, close to tears. I had to think of something to tell him, or I feared I might confess everything. "Yet ... I always feel asked to be someone I''m not. A grand lady, a elegant Family woman ... someone respectable. The minute they think I can''t hear, the whispers begin. No one''s fooled by this pretense." I glanced at Tony. "I''m a Pot rag, and that''s all I''ll ever be."


    He gaped at me. "Who whispers about you?"


    I snorted, feeling bitter. "Everyone. Everywhere. In the shops, in the street, even at the Grand Ball. Oh, yes, they curtsy and they smile, but when they think you can''t hear ..."


    Tony took my hand in his. "Oh, my love, you mustn''t listen, or it''ll destroy you. Do you think no one whispers about me? I''m the son of the man most hated and feared, certainly in Bridges, perhaps in this entire country. People fear me. They fear what I may be, what I may become. They whisper that I have a pleasant demeanor to hide some secret horror, that I keep a torture room as my father does ¡ª"


    I gasped at the thought of Tony torturing anyone.


    "¡ª that I engage in acts even worse, whatever their twisted minds concoct. But I''m not my father. I refuse to become him. And I refuse to listen to them." He glanced around as if searching for something to sway me. "You must refuse to listen too."


    ***


    The next morning, a letter came:


    Master Joseph Kerr and Miss Josephine Kerr present their compliments to Mr. and Mrs. Anthony Spadros but regretfully must decline their kind invitation to dinner on the 14th of February due to serious injury.


    As I suspected. I was surprised that Joe thought such a severe break ¡ª to the thigh, of all places ¡ª might heal enough in two weeks'' time to leave that contraption of his.


    The Golden Bridges ¡ª a disreputable tabloid, but often the only source of real news ¡ª ran a short but alarming article:


    TENSION BETWEEN FAMILIES?


    Our Inside Reporter relates a scene between Regina Clubb and Judith Hart at the Clubb Women''s Center:


    IR: The two went into a curtained room, presumably to have luncheon. Much discussion took place, loud enough to be heard at nearby tables, although the content is not known.


    Judith Hart emerged visibly upset, and left at once. According to the maids who this reporter spoke with later on, she left her meal untouched.


    GB: What is the meaning of this spectacle?


    IR: It''s too early to say, but rumor has it that the Clubb Family plans formal protest against the Harts.


    GB: Whatever for?


    IR: Trespass, spying, and property damage caused by this Red Dog street gang, which some say is inspired by the Hart Family.


    GB: A proxy Family battle? That seems too subtle for Charles Hart.


    IR: Yes, and foolhardy for him to use his Family colors on such attacks.


    We plan further investigations into the relations between Hart and Clubb.


    Bold reporting. I wondered how long it would be before threats forced the Golden Bridges to move their presses in the dead of night, as they had done so many times before.


    But then I thought of another matter. Morton ¡ª Master Blaze Rainbow ¡ª claimed to work for the Harts. After pretending to be both a Diamond Pot rag and a Red Dogs trey leader.


    Was the true Red Dog Gang''s original plan to use vandalism to cause problems between the Families? Who might benefit from such tactics? I pondered this for a while without success.


    Morton said his employer ¡ª whoever that was ¡ª wished him to learn who framed the Red Dogs for murder and kidnapping. A major problem for them, because the frame-up seemed to be succeeding, although no one had come out and said it as yet.


    When I tried to contact Morton using the Hart quadrant address on his business card, I learned there was no such address. Where did Morton really live? Who did he actually work for? What was his motivation for giving me that story about Helen Hart? Whose side was he on?

 Chapter 2: The Queen of Diamonds - Round 6: The Dinner

    "So now we are eight," I told Tony over breakfast. We sat beside our round white table, the garden shrouded in mist outside the large windows around us.


    Tony shook his head. "I feared as much, when I heard the news and saw Miss Kerr''s distress." He shrugged. "No matter. Eight is an auspicious number. I''m sure the party will go well."


    "I hired a quartet for entertainment. I chose several pieces of art to play tableaux after dinner. Even with only eight, we should have enough combinations to please everyone. Plus I''ve ordered a red Bordeaux to go with our roasted beef."


    He smiled at me. "I''m proud of how you''ve progressed in this matter. You arranged everything yourself this time. The staff tells me all is ordered in sufficient amounts."


    I smiled back, feeling pleased.


    At the time, what I really wanted was to find a few moments of peace. To be happy. To feel safe. To be of help to someone, anyone. I had lived with Tony six years, and in many ways looked to him to know how to live in Bridges society. And now, Tony was proud of me, and that meant a great deal.


    ***


    I spent the rest of the week alongside Jane and the staff scrubbing, polishing, and decorating. But at last, Queen''s Night was at hand, and all was in readiness. The musicians arrived with their instruments as good smells wafted up from the kitchens.


    I went to my study, taking the name cards from my dark cherry-wood desk. Roy let me keep it even though it didn''t match the gray-white trimmed in palest blue decor.


    The desk was mine, and I loved it.


    I folded each name card so that they made little tents upon my desk top. Then I brought the folded cards to the dining room.


    Candles gave the room a soft yellow glow atop the electric lights of the chandelier. The veranda was lit, giving our guests a place to take in the air after dinner if they wished.


    The musicians had set up in the breakfast room, and tuned their instruments as I went round the table placing the cards as so:


    Tony at the head of the table and I at the foot, as was the custom in Bridges. To Tony''s right, I placed Dame Anastasia Louis; to his left, Gardena Diamond. Next to Anastasia, Major Blackwood, then Kitty Clubb would sit next to me. On my right would be Jonathan Diamond, then Lance Clubb would sit next to Gardena. Being eight made for an awkward table, two men and two women sitting beside each other, but there was no help for it. I was to have Joe beside me, and Josie between Jonathan and Lance, which would have made a perfect scene.


    Rosemary and holly sprigs graced the center, gathered around short fat beeswax candles. The tablecloth was white damask; the plates, silverware, and crystal, our best.


    Tony came round the corner. "Ah, there you are!" He held a bouquet of roses such a dark red as to be almost black: the roses of Spadros. He handed them to me.


    "For me? I''m no matriarch." The eldest mother of the family received flowers on Queen''s Day, not a young childless wife.


    Tony cupped my face in his hands. "In this house, you''re all I see." He kissed my lips, lingering, then touched his forehead to mine, the scent of roses filling the air. "We''ll soon have children, never fear."


    This felt odd. "What of your mother? Is she well?"


    "My father will tend to her. I believe he will become the most pleasant of husbands."


    This was mystifying, to be sure. Roy Spadros was a violent, brutal, sadistic man, who caused injury to Tony''s mother as often as he could. What changed?


    Tony put his arms around my waist. "I never thought when I first saw you that we would be speaking such things."


    "Well, we were only twelve years old."


    "But you were such a wild thing, cursing and shouting like a zeppelin pilot. Frankly, you frightened me." He paused, gazing to one side as he smiled to himself. Then his shoulders straightened. "But your passionate defiance of my father at every turn made me see I could be bold as well. Become separate from his dominance."


    Tony relied on me? Used me as his guide, his inspiration? It felt humbling.


    He caressed my cheek, slid his hand behind my neck. "I love you so much." Then he gave me a peck on my lips and chuckled. "I suppose I should see who I''m hosting for dinner."


    I giggled, rubbing my hands together, wishing everyone would arrive soon so they might see the scene I created.


    Tony ambled around the table surveying the names, then stopped, his face going white. "What''s this?"


    I laid the flowers on the sideboard. "What''s wrong?"


    "How could you invite Gardena Diamond?"


    "Tony, she''s here all the time. She and Jonathan call at least once a month. They were here just a few weeks ago. You spoke with them." He stood motionless, staring. I moved towards Tony, becoming concerned for his health. "You don''t remember?"


    Tony didn''t speak for several seconds as the color returned to his face. When he next spoke, he sounded furious. "This is different. Inviting the Diamonds for dinner is completely different from them calling on us. Did Julius Diamond approve this?"


    Julius Diamond was Jon and Gardena''s father. He hated Tony so much that he wouldn''t even shake my husband''s hand. "I assume so. They accepted our invitation. Why? What''s wrong?"


    Tony said nothing.


    "Jon''s our friend. You spent much of the Grand Ball sitting with him in front of half the city. Why shouldn''t we invite them?"


    "You don''t understand anything! Having them here for dinner? It just can''t be." He paused. "We''ve never invited them here. A formal invitation sends a message to the whole city. Did you clear this with my father?"


    "I never thought I needed to." Was that why Roy wrote us? I began to feel afraid of what I might have done. And worse yet, that I didn''t understand why. "What message? Was I wrong to invite the Clubbs?"


    "No," Tony said. "That''s different."


    "Why is it different? I want to understand why you''re so upset."


    "We''re not at war with the Clubbs. We are at war with the Diamonds. We''ve been at war with the Diamonds since ... for ten years now ¡ª"


    I wondered at that. "Aren''t we at peace? I thought the war only lasted a year ¡ª"


    "We''re only at cease-fire. There''s never been an alliance between their Family and ours from the time of the Coup. The whole city will wonder: is this a prelude to peace? Are these younger Diamonds emissaries? If anything ¡ª anything! ¡ª should happen to Jon and Gardena while they''re in Spadros quadrant, so much as a hair on their heads harmed, the cease-fire could be broken. And we''re not ready." Tony turned away, his hand to his forehead. "We''re nowhere near ready. My father will be furious."


    "Should I cancel the dinner?"


    Tony shook his head. "It''s much too late for that now." He stared at Gardena''s place at the table. The color drained from his face, and he almost sounded afraid. "I will not sit beside Gardena Diamond tonight. I ¡ª I can''t. You must move her at once."


    What the hell was wrong with him? "Well, I wanted her to sit beside Lance Clubb. But if it''ll make things better, I can switch her with Kitty." I paused, and took a breath. The fault was mine; neither anger nor sarcasm would solve this. "Dame Anastasia may take offense if I seat her away from the host."


    Tony gave a weak smile. "That she might." He looked as if he might be sick. "I must contact my father."


    As he left, I took a deep breath and let it out. This was not going as I expected.


    As I switched the name cards, I realized the musicians witnessed all this. At my glance, they began fiddling with their papers as if they heard nothing.


    I almost laughed.


    The doorbell rang, and I heard Pearson open it. I hurried past the quartet, slowing to a walk as the door came into view.


    Kitty and Lance Clubb were blond with blue eyes and a sprinkling of freckles across their noses. Their hair was heavy and straight with a golden hue. Kitty''s gown was dandelion gold, while Lance''s suit was saffron, with a cream-white cravat.


    Lance Clubb seemed younger than I, even though he was a year my elder. But he won the approval of Gardena Diamond''s father Julius, and I planned to introduce them tonight.


    Kitty, a rather plain woman, was two years older than Lance and lacked his shy demeanor: she strode up to me at once.


    I held out my hand to her. "What a pleasure to see you both!"


    Kitty was unmarried, yet older. Should I curtsy to her, or she to me? Fortunately, Kitty solved the problem by curtsying to me.


    Lance kissed my hand. "I hope Mr. Spadros is well?"


    Music wafted into the room. I felt relieved that the musicians had finally begun to play. "Mr. Spadros is quite well; a matter arose which needed his attention. He''ll be here shortly. Come, I''ve arranged rooms for your refreshment."


    Pearson brought Lance to Tony''s study, while I brought Kitty to mine. Attendants waited to help them with their coats and hats, and mirrors were set up. A screen was placed inside each door to prevent guests from being displayed to those in the hallway.


    The doorbell rang. Major Blackwood was a round, vigorous old man, brown of skin and white of hair. As always, in uniform, several small badges of rank on his left chest. "Splendid to see you again, my dear," he said, bowing deeply. "Always a pleasure."


    Major Blackwood was well known on the party circuit but had never visited Spadros Manor. He was neither of the aristocracy nor aligned with any Family. But he helped me two weeks ago, and this invitation was his reward.


    Tony walked up just then, looking much improved. "Major Blackwood!" They shook hands. "Welcome. It''s so good to see you. Pearson, would you show the Major to the dressing room?"


    "Certainly, sir."


    Tony turned to me. "Who''s here so far?"


    "Lance and Kitty." I hesitated. "I hope you''re well?"


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Tony nodded. "I never imagined my father would leave the situation with the Diamonds out of your training."


    I shrugged. Roy Spadros had neglected more than that. I had no idea how the illegal drug Party Time ¡ª a major source of our income ¡ª was even made until Tony tried to explain it to me a few weeks ago. "Who knows why your father does what he does?" I patted his arm. "I''m sorry I made such a mess of things."


    Tony kissed my forehead. "We''ll have to muddle through."


    Pearson walked past us just as the doorbell rang.


    With a sleek bouffant of white-blonde hair, an erect carriage, and gray eyes, Dame Anastasia Louis swept in, bedecked with jewels, furs trailing behind her. She was well past seventy, with a heritage running back to the kings of England, pre-Catastrophe. But age had only improved her, giving her a stature that made younger women look like foolish girls beside her.


    "My dear friends." She gave her hand to Tony to kiss, and I curtsied when she took mine. "I''m so glad to see you."


    "And I you," said Tony. "I hear your business is doing well."


    "I could say the same."


    Tony laughed. "That you could."


    The casino brought in over $3000 this past quarter. The shipments of Party Time we distributed were lucrative as well. This in a city where a penny could get you many things. I had never even seen a dollar before I was sold to the Spadros Family.


    Dame Anastasia was rich, beautiful, and fond of us. Plus, she was our next door neighbor (although she lived a mile away). I took her arm. "Let me show you to the dressing room."


    "I''ve missed seeing you," she said, as we strolled down the hall. "It''s been weeks since you''ve visited. I hope all is well?"


    "Yes, very," I said. "I apologize for not calling; we''ve been quite busy. Did you know Mr. Spadros is renovating the casino?"


    She patted my hand. "Come visit me for tea sometime this week. I have something to speak with you about that I think you''ll find most interesting."


    At the time, I thought she had advice about investing in her "miracle" gems. "I would be happy to." A maid opened the door for us, and I escorted Dame Anastasia around the screen. Kitty sat with a cup of tea, but set it down and rose when we entered. "Dame Anastasia Louis, may I present to you Miss Kitty Clubb."


    Kitty came forward and curtsied low. "It''s an honor."


    Dame Anastasia took Kitty''s hand. "The pleasure is all mine." The doorbell rang and she turned to me. "Thank you, my dear, I''ll allow you to greet your guests."


    I left my study, closing the door. Tony stood in the entryway, shaking Jonathan Diamond''s hand, then hesitated for several seconds. His back was towards me, but Gardena stared up at him, lips slightly parted. Then Jon jostled her elbow; she glanced at me. Tony glanced back, startled.


    What was this all about? I walked over to greet them.


    Jonathan Diamond was a tall, handsome man of six and twenty. His younger sister Gardena, poised and beautiful. Like most in the Diamond Family, their skin was so dark as to almost be black. Jon''s black hair was tight-coiled and cut short. Gardena''s raven curls cascaded down one side of her neck, elegantly displayed beneath a royal blue hat which matched her gown. Jonathan wore a black suit with a cravat matching Gardena''s gown, pinned with the symbol of their Family in white.


    Jon and his sister came past Tony to greet me, Jon kissing my hand. "How lovely you look!"


    I gave him a mischievous grin. "I could say the same of you."


    He laughed.


    "I''m so sorry we''re late." Gardena sounded embarrassed. "Father was being difficult."


    I could only imagine.


    Tony walked up to us and spoke to Jon. "May I show you to your dressing room?"


    Jon turned to us. "Until next we meet."


    I waved at him then took Gardena''s arm. "You survived your father''s wrath, I take it?"


    She giggled. "He is a bear. But Jon persuaded him to relent."


    I squeezed her arm in mine. "I''m so glad. I have a young man who eagerly awaits your introduction."


    Gardena let go of my arm and stepped back. "Truly?"


    "Yes. I saw him and your father shake hands on it at the Grand Ball."


    Gardena''s face filled with joy as she put her hands to her mouth. Then she threw her arms round my neck, kissing my cheek. "I''m so grateful." Then she straightened. "Oh, dear. Who?"


    "None other than Master Lancelot Clubb."


    She put her hand to her chest. "Oh, my." I didn''t think Lance was handsome, but Gardena appeared flustered. "How do I look?"


    "You look gorgeous." I ushered her into my study. Kitty and Anastasia rose when we entered. "Dame Anastasia Louis, Miss Kitty Clubb, may I present Miss Gardena Diamond."


    Gardena stared at Anastasia, her voice dripping with venom. "You. You dare come here, tonight of all nights?"


    Anastasia appeared unperturbed. "My dear, I was invited."


    Gardena pointed at Anastasia, and her hand shook. "How dare you claim Queen of Diamonds while my mother still lives? How dare you mock my family''s grief? You should feel ashamed of yourself!" She fled to the corner and stood facing away.


    Gardena''s mother Rachel never recovered from the death of her father-in-law, and required tending. It never occurred to me how Gardena might feel to meet Anastasia on Queen''s Day.


    "Excuse me." I said to the other ladies, and followed Gardena. She stood stiffly staring at the wall. I put my hand on her shoulder. "Are you well?"


    Gardena''s eyes flashed angrily. "It''s not right for her to use my mother''s name this way!"


    I came round, held her hands. "This is my fault. I didn''t consider how it might upset you to see her here."


    "I worry so for her, Jacqui. I should never have come. I should be home with her now."


    "Nonsense. She would want you to be happy. Am I right?"


    Gardena smiled at that, wiping her face with her handkerchief. "I don''t wish to spoil your party."


    I glanced at Kitty, who watched us, and nodded at her. She came over with some hesitation, and I took Kitty''s hand and placed Gardena''s in it. "This is Lance''s sister. It would please me if you became friends."


    I closed the door before heading to the dining room. The musicians were taking a break now that all the guests had arrived and were preparing for dinner.


    Jane stood in the dining room directing placement of the serving platters on the long tables by the wall. I approached her. "Is all well?"


    "Ten minutes, mum, and all will be ready."


    "Thank you. I''ll alert our guests."


    I went to the sideboard. Tony''s roses stood in a vase; beside them stood the dinner bell. I walked past the musicians, then into the hall, ringing the bell three times. I placed it on a small table there in the hall and waited for our guests to emerge.


    Tony came out of his library: face pale, collar damp, his hair moist around his forehead. Tony''s father Roy Spadros was a fearsome man; I hoped Tony didn''t regret his decision to loosen ties with him. I did not want things to go back to the way they were, Roy appearing at any moment to do with our household as he wished.


    Our guests began appearing in the hallway, one by one. Once they were all in the hall, I went to Gardena, who appeared much improved, and I led her to Lance. "Gardena Diamond, may I present Lance Clubb."


    Lance and Gardena both blushed. Lance took her hand and kissed it. "I''m most honored to meet you."


    For once, Gardena was speechless. I jostled her arm. "And I you," she said.


    Tony offered his arm to Dame Anastasia, and I took Major Blackwood''s arm. Jon gave his arm to Kitty Clubb. I glanced back. Lance offered his arm to Gardena, passing in front of Jon and Kitty, as was proper for a Family heir to do.


    At least that went well.


    Then I remembered poor Joe, alone and injured. I sighed.


    Major Blackwood peered at me. "I hope everything is well?"


    "We''re two short. A friend suffered serious injury and couldn''t attend. His sister cares for him now. I would''ve liked to have seen them tonight."


    Major Blackwood nodded. "Injury is a terrible thing." I thought for a moment he was going to start into one of his bawdy party stories about the Army, but his manner seemed grave. "I will light a candle for your friend. May he play this difficult round with dignity and honor."


    This surprised me. "Why thank you, Major."


    He patted my hand in a fatherly manner. "It is of no consequence."


    We entered the dining room, everyone sitting as they found their places. The waiters began handing out bowls of soup and filling wine glasses. Everyone sat, hands in their laps, until Tony began to eat, then they ate as well.


    Jon placed his hand over his glass. "Just water for me, please."


    "And I," said Kitty Clubb.


    My surprise must have shown, because Lance said, "Kitty has been accepted by the Dealers."


    Murmurs of congratulations went round the table.


    The Dealers: a female-only religious group which formed soon after the Catastrophe. Dealers took no intoxicating substances in order to play their hands to the best of their ability. In that way, they were like the Grand Order. But the Dealers handled copies of the Cards themselves, so it was a great honor to be asked to join.


    Major Blackwood said, "I remember my father telling me of how his family took him to the Cathedral as a boy to receive the Dealers'' blessings." He spoke as if the memory of his father''s story was a pleasant one.


    "It''s a pity the Cathedral was destroyed," Kitty said. "I hear it was beautiful."


    Destroyed? Why in the world would she say that?


    Lance said to me, "What is it?"


    "Forgive me," I said, "I don''t mean to offend, but the Cathedral''s not destroyed. I grew up there."


    Everyone stared at me except Kitty, whose face lit up. "Really? What''s it like?"


    The high ceiling glowed in the candlelight. The setting sun crossed the one unbroken stained glass window. Lovely ladies in flowing gowns walked that window, flowers and Card symbols arrayed around them.


    "Quite beautiful." I sighed, missing my home, my Ma. "But it''s been a long time since I lived there."


    "How is it that you grew up there?" Kitty said.


    "I suppose it sounds scandalous, but my Ma owned it. She bought it shortly before I was born. But she grew up there, too, and her mother before her."


    Kitty gazed at one of the candles. "I never realized that it still stood, or that anyone remained."


    "We never left," I said.


    Jon shook himself. "What do you mean, we?"


    Without thinking, I said, "The elders call us the Dealers'' Daughters, the ones who survived." I realized this might not be the best subject to discuss over dinner. "I''m sorry, I''m hoarding the conversation. How is the weather there in Diamond?"


    Jon smiled. "Quite nice, for this time of year."


    "It''s lovely and warm," Gardena said, "and the sun came out this afternoon." She glanced at Tony. "Quite unlike here."


    Tony bristled. Jon frowned at Gardena.


    Was Gardena angry at Tony for inviting Anastasia?


    Kitty said, "Why do they call you the Dealers'' Daughters?"


    "I wondered that myself," Tony said.


    Anastasia said to Kitty, "My dear, are you familiar with the history of Bridges?"


    "I suppose so," Kitty said.


    "Then you might understand that not all that went on during that time was pleasant," Major Blackwood said, "or suitable for dinner conversation."


    I felt relieved he had spoken. "Kitty, perhaps I can answer your questions later."


    The waiters began taking away the bowls and replacing them with plates filled with roast beef, roasted parsnips and carrots, and three small grilled fishes.


    I began searching for a topic which might be uncontroversial.


    Why was Tony saying nothing? He knew this wasn''t a strong area for me. He gazed downward, off to his right, as if in a reverie.


    I turned to Lance and Kitty. "I hear your parents are launching another yacht." Surely that subject might not cause distress. "What''s it to be named?"


    Lance leaned towards me with a wry smile. "They haven''t decided yet. We''re considering the Asking Bid."


    Laughter around the table. Last month, I spoke with our Inventor about the failing Magma Steam Generator. At the time, I thought the Clubbs might be interested in gaining us as allies.


    An asking bid was a question: where are you strong?


    The only possible answer would be who our Family trusted the most: which Family, gang, or faction might be willing to work with both us and the Clubbs. I could answer, but I didn''t want to. After Tony''s outburst, I felt afraid of what else I didn''t know about politics in the city.


    Tony smiled. "A wonderful name. Pity we don''t get the chance to do much yachting; perhaps we might all take an outing with the Harts sometime.


    Lance leaned back. "That might be arranged."


    Jonathan Diamond snorted quietly beside me, and I smiled at him. That Lance chose this time to say what he did meant the Clubbs didn''t care who knew they offered us alliance.


    This was getting more interesting all the time.


    But Lance''s request to court Gardena was in truth a Clubb offer of alliance to the Diamonds. Was Lance making a move to consolidate power under Clubb rule? What of the story in the Golden Bridges about the discussion between Regina Clubb and Judith Hart? Were the Harts being pushed out?


    We were only at cease-fire with the Diamonds. Did Lance just ask us to pick sides in a new war? Did Tony just give him the wrong answer?


    Gardena''s plate was still full. I leaned to my left and whispered, "Are you well? You''ve hardly touched your food."


    "I''m fine," Gardena said, spearing a piece of carrot with her fork. "Truly I am."


    "Very well," I said. "If you''re sure. I can have the servants make up something else for you if you prefer."


    "That is kind, but unnecessary." She ate the carrot, and brought her wine to her lips but barely tasted it.


    "Gardena is much like a bird in her habits," Tony said. "Points one way, then hops another."


    Major Blackwood laughed. "I wasn''t expecting that!"


    "Nor was I," Gardena said. She was not amused. "Yet I could say the same of you."


    Then I noticed Tony had hardly eaten anything either. He loved roast beef; what was wrong?


    Lance peered at Gardena as if measuring her. She blushed, blurting out, "Tell us more about the Cathedral."


    I stared at her. Did she not understand I didn''t want to talk about that? "What would you like to know?"


    Gardena seemed startled, staring back at me as if she had no idea what to do or say next.


    Soft music filled the silence as we ate.


    "I still don''t understand what you meant about the history of Bridges," Kitty said a few moments later. "Do you mean the war?"


    This woman was sheltered, to be sure. "Yes, the war."


    Jon said, "I wonder why the Cathedral was never rebuilt, somewhere else. I mean, if no one intended to restore the Pot."


    With a shock, I remembered Joseph Kerr''s words when we were teenagers in the Pot ... "One day this place could be good .... No more cold, no more rags." Perhaps the Pot really could be restored someday. The idea inspired me. "The Dealers believe that the site of the Cathedral was holy, special, set apart for a purpose. They don''t wish it rebuilt somewhere else."


    Kitty nodded. At least she knew about her own religion''s history. "Was holy?"


    Gardena frowned. "Can''t you see she doesn''t want to talk about it?"


    "Let the woman alone," Tony snapped. "I for one would like to know."


    Tony didn''t know what his own ancestor had done?


    Gardena glared at him.


    Anastasia leaned back in her chair.


    Major Blackwood shook his head, eyes on his plate.


    Lance sat perfectly still, watching everyone else. For an instant, he reminded me of Tony''s masterful ability not to show emotion when he wished not to.


    I let out an astonished laugh. Tony wasn''t hiding how he felt tonight. "Well, Mr. Spadros, you asked, so I will tell you."


    The music stopped.


    I turned to Kitty. "During the Alcatraz Coup, after the Opposition dynamited the bridges, mobs ran through the Pot, burning and looting as they went ¡ª"


    "My dear," Major Blackwood said, "you don''t have to ¡ª"


    "Yes sir, I do," I replied, "for my husband has commanded."


    No one spoke.


    "Now, Kitty, when the men, mostly the Hartmanns, grew tired of their sport, they converged upon the Cathedral to lay hands upon the women there. Many a child was dealt in by force that night, and borne from those who survived."


    Kitty and Tony blanched, and the table grew silent.


    I straightened, feeling a renewed sense of dignity. "So those of us from the Cathedral are known as the Dealers'' Daughters, and the ground is no longer holy."


    I looked at the pale and sober faces in the room, those at the table, the servants, some with frightened tears in their eyes, and I smiled. Joe is right. We are truly not like these people. "But it was a hundred years ago. Please, don''t be distressed. Would anyone like more wine?"

 Chapter 2: The Queen of Diamonds - Round 7: The Conversation

    The rest of the evening, the others strictly limited the conversation, and no one was put upon to speak on any topic. Gardena and Tony both seemed angry, but I couldn''t tell whether with themselves or each other. We had our dinner, then went to the veranda for drinks.


    I instructed Pearson to pay the musicians well for their service, then led the guests to the parlor for coffee and dessert. The art books lay forgotten; no one seemed interested in playing tableaux that night.


    The mood improved as the night went, and soon it was time for goodbyes. Kitty begged my forgiveness, which I was glad to give. She seemed so innocent of life; I wondered if it was good for her to seclude herself in this way. Lance thanked me for the evening, and for the introduction to Gardena. How he felt now that he saw her performance at dinner, it was difficult to say. Major Blackwood told me I performed admirably; I wasn''t sure Tony would see it the same way. Anastasia reminded me to stop by for tea soon. I told her I''d send a note when I planned to visit.


    And then it was Jonathan and Gardena, Tony and myself.


    "Shall we return to the veranda?" Gardena said. "I wish a word with Mr. Spadros in private."


    Jon frowned. Tony shrugged. I said, "Certainly."


    I took Tony''s arm and we strolled down the hall. Perhaps Gardena wanted to apologize for her part in the unpleasantness between them.


    No one said anything as we entered the dining room. The table was cleared, the candles blown out, and the lights turned off. But the veranda was still lit, giving the room a ghostly glow.


    Tony opened the glass-paneled door for Gardena, glancing back at us. "This should only take a moment."


    Jon and I sat on the side of the table nearest to the veranda doors, turning our chairs to face each other. Tony and Gardena went outside; Tony pulled the doors shut.


    "Well," I said, "that could have gone better."


    Jon smiled to himself. "You did fine."


    It felt good to see Jon again. The last time I had seen him was in my parlor two weeks ago, when I prepared to rescue David Bryce. So much had happened since then. I felt as if I was a different person ... and I wasn''t sure I liked the feeling. I had never kept anything from Jon before. But now ... now, there seemed to be a distance between us.


    "You seem different," Jonathan said.


    "Oh?"


    "I''ve never heard you speak like you did at dinner before."


    "Oh," I said, smiling to myself. "What part of it seemed different to you?"


    Jon leaned against the arm of his chair. "I don''t know ¡ª your bearing. It was as if you came into some strength you didn''t know of before. What''s happened?"


    I couldn''t tell him, so I shrugged. "I was ill recently. Perhaps that''s it."


    Jon nodded slowly, eyes downcast. "That does give you time for thought." He took my hand. "I''m glad you''re well now."


    Gardena and Tony stood a few feet apart, faces pensive. Tony seemed to be explaining something, but quietly, as if deeply disturbed, almost melancholy.


    Tony rarely showed emotion to anyone. Seeing him this vulnerable in front of Gardena ... it made me uneasy.


    I felt Jonathan watching me. The expression on his face reminded me of the little boy I saw on Market Center, the boy who looked so much like Tony''s grandfather. "Jon, may I ask a personal question?"


    Jon smiled, leaning his arm on the table, his expression open and earnest, his manner comfortable and easy. "My love, you may ask anything your heart desires."


    He always could make me smile. "I saw a young boy a few weeks ago, and he reminded me of you." I hesitated. Did I want the answer?


    Yes. There was nothing Jonathan could have done which would make me think less of him. "Do you have a son?"


    Laughter burst from him. "Not that I know of!" He seemed astonished at the thought.


    Tony and Gardena stood silent, faces downcast.


    "Well, how about Jack? Was the boy his son? His name was Roland ... that''s Jack''s middle name, is it not? ... and he looks so much like you. He truly could be your son from his appearance."


    Jon chuckled, but it seemed forced. "Jack once told me that he has never met a woman who distresses him in that way. I very much doubt this boy is his son."


    I sighed. "Well, then, I don''t know." I turned my chair to face the veranda, leaning my elbows on my knees. Their conversation was taking more than "a moment". Gardena said something, and Tony''s mouth hung open, his eyes wide. Gardena nodded.


    Jon said. "His name was Roland? How old?"


    Gardena said something quiet but earnest. Tony replied in the same way. "Four, maybe."


    "Oh!" Jon said. "My oldest brother''s son is four now. It must be him."


    Gardena''s eyes went empty, and she spoke. Tony''s face when he replied looked wistful, longing, nostalgic.


    "I suppose it must." I was focused on Tony and Gardena outside as I spoke, but then I realized I was neglecting Jon. "I hope you''re feeling well these days?"


    Gardena''s face tightened: annoyance, as if having to repeat something she had said many a time.


    Jon relaxed, turning towards me. "I''m quite well, thank you."


    Tony was in anguish at whatever Gardena said. From the way Tony''s body moved his reply was vicious, and for an instant, I saw his father Roy in his eyes.


    Gardena recoiled, then slapped Tony, hard, and pointed at him. You are a coward.


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    Jon stood. "This is just one reason why my father doesn''t want her to visit. Stay here." He went outside, closing the veranda doors behind him.


    Why was Tony so upset? What could he possibly have said to make Gardena slap him?


    Jon faced away from me, but spoke to both of them angrily. Tony and Gardena stared in my direction, appalled.


    Could they possibly have forgotten I was here?


    Tony and Gardena exchanged words. Jon stared at Gardena, shocked. Whatever she said, Tony''s face turned red and his hands balled into fists. His stance frightened me.


    Jon grabbed Gardena''s arm, opened the veranda door, and dragged her inside.


    Tears filled Gardena''s eyes. "Jacqui, I am so very sorry." Her voice held compassion ... and remorse.


    Why? What had she done? "But ¡ª"


    "We should go," Jon said. "Thank you for inviting us." They went round the corner and were gone.


    Tony stood outside, alone, the glare of the electric light behind him putting his face in darkness. I went to the door and opened it. "Tony? Are you well?"


    Tony shook his head, face downcast, his shoulders slumped.


    "What happened? Why did she strike you?"


    He didn''t move. "Gardena Diamond is a high-strung woman who''s had too much to drink."


    I took his hand and brought him inside. His cheek was red. "Gardena hardly touched her drink. Why did you argue?"


    Tony didn''t answer for quite a while. Then he sighed. "It''s a long story, Jacqui. Next time, please consult me before you have people over."


    I stood there, not knowing what to think or feel. It seemed as if I chose the exact wrong group of people to invite.


    Tony turned to leave.


    "Wait," I said. "I was wrong to invite who I did, but I was innocent of your Family''s machinations. You even said as much. You, however, spent the entire evening trying to spite Gardena, with no regard for either my feelings or the people I invited. I don''t know what happened between you two, but this is wrong."


    Tony didn''t meet my eye. "I''m sorry." He walked away.


    Want to know what Tony and Gardena talked about?


    My Trey Level patrons on Patreon get this bonus scene, plus lots more.</a>


    I turned off the veranda lights and went through the preparation room. In the storeroom, boxes stood beside the stair to my left. The door out to the stables stood open; the air was cool and smelled of rain.


    A third of the way up the stair, a small figure sat slumped upon the steps.


    Moving to the other side of the stairwell, I tiptoed up, curious as to who it might be. A stair creaked. The figure wheeled to face me in the darkness, quilt flying aside to reveal a pale face and eyes, dark hair. "Who''s there?"


    I crouched before him. "I mean you no harm."


    "You''re her. Our lady. Mrs. Spadros."


    I sat beside him. "You''re Amelia''s boy."


    His head drooped. "Yes, mum."


    "What''s your name?"


    "Pip, mum."


    "How old are you?"


    "Ten."


    Born about when Air died. "Aren''t you cold out here?"


    He shook his head. "It''s not bad."


    Crickets chirped outside.


    "Why are you here, and not in your bed?"


    Pip turned away to lean on the support. "They always argue. If I''m not around, they don''t so much."


    Peter and Amelia, arguing? "Why do they argue so much?"


    Misery laced his voice in the darkness. "Because of me. They say it when they think I can''t hear. If I wasn''t here, they could get away from here. But they can''t."


    I remembered what Pip''s father Peter said, after Roy Spadros tortured Amelia ...


    "If we could leave, we would, but Mr. Roy would follow us, no matter where we went. We thought it would be better here, that Mr. Anthony could protect us. But ¡ª"


    Pip spoke as if repeating something he heard once, then took to heart. "It would be better if I never was born."


    Even in my worst days ¡ª after Air died, after I was brought here, the many terrifying days and nights ¡ª I never wanted to die. It never even crossed my mind. What happened to this boy? "I don''t think it would be better if you never were born."


    He sniffled. "Really?"


    I sat next to him. "Really. You seem a good boy, always helping. I saw you playing with Rocket out in the meadow the other day." I had to ask. "Does anyone hit you?"


    Pip sat hunched over, his arms on his knees. "Sometimes."


    "It''s not right for a man to hit a little boy."


    "My Daddy never hit me, mum, never!" He sounded shocked. "Daddy''s good to me." He paused. "But ... Mommy doesn''t like me." His little body crumpled, and he began sobbing. "Mommy hates meeeee."


    I pulled him to me and held him as he cried. I almost asked why his Ma should hate him, but he probably didn''t know any more than I did.


    In the Pot, for an adult to hurt a child in any way warranted death. How was this going on in my own home?


    After a time, he wiped his face with his sleeve, pulling away to sit hunched over again.


    "Pip, when people are very sad, sometimes they don''t act right. Sometimes they say and do things to hurt people, even people like you who didn''t do anything wrong. It''s not right for them to do these things, but it''s not because you''re bad. It''s because ... because they''re so sad."


    Pip nodded, and something in the set of his shoulders told me he never considered such things before.


    "Would you like to sleep in the men''s quarters?"


    "Go away from my Daddy?" He paused. "I don''t know."


    "Well, I''ll ask if that might be possible. But you don''t have to go if you decide you don''t want to." I patted his shoulder. "The beds there are better than the stair."


    A smile came to his voice. "Thank you, mum."


    "I''m going to go walk now. But I want to walk by myself. Will you promise not to tell?"


    "I will."


    "Thank you, Pip. Sleep well."


    I tiptoed down the stair, peering out of the door. No one stood there, so I slipped out, closing the door behind me.


    I walked among the horses, listening to their soft sounds as crickets chirped around us. The stars were bright, and I leaned on a post. A horse came over to sniff my hair, then retreated.


    Pip was just a boy. What could have possibly gone on between them to make Amelia beat him?


    Amelia never told me how she and Peter got here or why they stayed, even after Roy tortured her last month. She probably felt afraid to share her troubles with me.


    Amelia took great pride in her position as my lady''s maid. But something in the way she spoke of it suggested she might feel as little choice in the matter as I once thought I had.


    Some small animal rustled in the straw beside me as I passed.


    That afternoon in Jack Diamond''s factory basement showed me I did have a choice. David and I could have died that day, or still be held by Frank Pagliacci and Jack Diamond, undergoing some horrific torture. I chose to fight back.


    But how could I fight Roy Spadros? It seemed impossible.


    I leaned against a post, watching the trees sway in the distance. Could Joe really get us out of Bridges?


    I didn''t want to even consider it until Joe was well. To have my hopes dashed again ... I didn''t know if I could take it.


    To know he might still love me was enough for now.


    I closed my eyes, remembering Joe''s strong fingers in mine. I''d almost forgotten who I was, but Joe''s words and Kitty''s innocent questions reminded me.


    Darkness ... candlelight ... ancient voices chanting ... Ma''s arms round me as I lay curled upon her lap. I felt warm, safe.


    "We are the Dealers'' daughters, ever grateful for their sacrifice, bound to keep faith until the land is restored. May we prove worthy of our mothers'' courage, showing the Dealer''s love to all who enter."


    The memory seemed a thousand years ago.


    One of Tony''s men patrolled the street, far off to the right. His cigarette''s light gave his face an orange glow. The wind blew chill.


    Shivering, I returned to the stair. Pip was gone, so I crept up the stair, through the sheet-covered shapes in the storeroom, and into the hall. Blitz Spadros, our night footman, held a candle as he walked the hallway, and he smiled and nodded when he saw me.


    Tony lay in my bed, asleep. His roses stood in a vase on my dresser, their thick perfume filling the air. After a few minutes'' struggle to get out of my finery and jewels, I lay beside him, placing my hand so our fingers barely touched.


    My husband was an ordinary-looking man, but I loved to watch him sleep. His guard vanished; his face took on a peace which no one else ever saw.


    I kept revisiting the scene on the veranda ... last month in his study. The way Tony''s voice changed when he spoke of Gardena, the way he looked at her, the way he lay his heart open to her ....


    Tony loved Gardena.


    Tony was in love with Gardena.


    In the Pot we had no such thing as marriage. Until recently, my feelings for Tony had been what I might offer a brother, or a friend, such as Jonathan. I grew up in a brothel; a person might have many relationships in the Pot, even at the same time, without causing offense. But I could see how this might upset a quadrant-man such as Tony, who had been raised in a different way.


    But for them to argue so as to come to blows made no sense. And then for him to offer such a bold lie, casting the entire blame on her? Something deep ran between them, something old and powerful which turned love to hate, at least on her part.


    You are a coward.


    Perhaps this deep secret was the reason Jon and Gardena''s father Julius Diamond hated Tony so.


    Tony lied to me, cast blame on others, provoked Gardena to violence. None of this was like him. Something happened. No, something horrible was happening to him, something he felt too terrible to tell me. Had the fear of his father''s wrath for my inviting Jonathan and Gardena pushed him too far?


    Tony lay facing me, his cheek pink, his side bruised brown and yellow from the beating he took during the ambush six weeks ago, his black hair tousled. I felt deep compassion for him. I couldn''t think of a way to let him know he had my support no matter what calamity had befallen him.


    I put my hand over Tony''s. He mumbled, "no ... no," his face in deep distress.


    Tears wet my pillow. I knew all about nightmares.

 Chapter 2: The Queen of Diamonds - Round 8: The News

    The next morning, Amelia came in as usual, and over my morning tea, I watched her.


    Why would she beat her son? Why would he think she hated him? Why was Peter not intervening?


    The Golden Bridges had a disturbing article: Hart merchants were discussing a protest against the Hart Family for non-payment of bills. A spokesman for the Harts said the purchases were made without their knowledge or consent.


    Could Charles Hart be in financial difficulty? At the Grand Ball, he seemed relaxed, even jovial. Why wouldn''t he pay what he owed? What would it mean if his quadrant rose against him?


    And Tony had spoken for them.


    Tony seemed tired at breakfast, and he spoke little. I didn''t ask about the events of the night before; he didn''t mention them. He left after breakfast, telling me to run the morning meeting without him. But it was simple matter, just giving the staff their orders for the day. I sat and smoked for a while after he left. As I rose from the table, I decided to visit Dame Anastasia for tea, and hear her interesting information. Before the business with David Bryce, I called on her almost every week.


    On the way down the stairs, I heard our chef shouting, "How can I work in this disorder?"


    "If you would clean after yourself, Monsieur," a woman said, "the disorder wouldn''t exist."


    "Damnable woman!" Monsieur roared. I heard him stomp up the stairs to the courtyard.


    I chuckled, recognizing the woman''s voice. When I went past the kitchens, Anne ¡ª a sturdy brown-haired spinster in her middle thirties ¡ª winked when she saw me. Whatever disorder Monsieur might have detected in the kitchens, I couldn''t see it.


    After the meeting, I went to Pearson. "I have a situation I must discuss."


    He followed me up to my study, closing the doors behind us. "How may I help, mum?"


    I took a deep breath. "Pip Dewey."


    Pearson''s expression didn''t change. "What about the boy?"


    "I believe you know very well what. The child''s situation is unacceptable. I don''t know what has gone on, but ¡ª"


    "You''re correct, mum. You don''t know what has gone on."


    I stared at Pearson in surprise. He spoke gently, but his words bordered on insubordination. I turned away. "Who is it you fear, I wonder." The list was very short. "The boy may stay in the men''s quarters, if he agrees, and a place can be found. If someone has concerns about the matter they may speak with me." I faced him. "Is that suitable?"


    Pearson stood for a moment, his face unchanging. "That is quite suitable, mum."


    "That is all." He turned to go. "No, wait. Someone needs to speak with his father."


    "I''ll do that, mum."


    "Thank you, Pearson."


    The door shut behind him.


    At least I had done something useful today.


    Pearson didn''t seem to think Pip''s abuse was worth notice. The people here ... none of this made any sense to me.


    Shaking my head, I sat at my desk, surveying my calling list. I had sadly neglected my social duties during the past two months.


    Most of the women I visited were cold, and I heard many a one call me foul names in secret ¡ª or even to my face ¡ª "Pot rag whore" being the kindest.


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    It amused me. Pot rag was a foul title, to be sure, but whore was the second highest calling someone in the Pot might have. Where they thought to give insult, I saw it as praise. But though they meant insult, I had to pretend I wanted to call on them. We held the quadrant. But if I offended the wrong women, it could cause their men to look elsewhere for leadership.


    I collected my notes, the list I made a few weeks earlier, and the pile of cards left while I was ill, and began to sort it all. I didn''t care about these women; they didn''t care about me. Why did they play this game? Joe was right: everything these people did trapped themselves, confined themselves so that they could hardly move without causing offense. At times, I felt I could hardly breathe.


    But Roy said I must do this. Molly and Tony agreed. I opened my calendar and set to work.


    ***


    The afternoon was overcast yet warm, with a gentle breeze, so I walked the mile to Anastasia''s home, my day footman Honor three paces behind.


    This was new. I normally walked without escort so close to our home. But with the attack on Tony on New Year''s Day and the events since, Tony decided I was to go nowhere unescorted.


    Who was a fit escort confused me. No man seemed to be sufficient except family members or servants. Tony was driven almost to terror at my visit to the Inventor''s Laboratory below our home, even though the Inventor himself accompanied me, an elderly man of the highest honor. Yet a young, attractive male servant walked behind me without arousing any comment. None of it made sense. And while Skip Honor was a pleasant enough fellow, his presence felt like another bar in my cage.


    Dame Anastasia didn''t mind Honor''s presence; she asked her butler to show him downstairs for tea with the other servants. Then she brought me to her parlor and we sat. Anastasia collected clocks of all kinds, and they ticked merrily as we talked.


    "Thank you so much for coming last night," I said. "I hope you enjoyed yourself."


    She smiled. "Dinner was delicious and the entertainment lovely ... although I found your friends rather impertinent."


    This irritated me when I remembered Gardena''s tears. But perhaps Anastasia didn''t understand the situation. "I''m sorry. I''ll have to have you over again under a more pleasant environment."


    "I would be delighted."


    The maid came in, bringing us tea, small sandwiches, and thin slices of cake. "Will there be anything else, m''lady?"


    "That will be all."


    The maid curtsied and left, closing the door behind her.


    I picked up my teacup. "How may I help you?"


    "On the contrary, my dear, I have something to speak to you about which I hope you''ll find beneficial."


    She wore her signature necklace: twenty large round-cut diamonds in a chain, a teardrop dangling in the center. Rumor had it the necklace was worth tens of thousands of dollars; she had guards with her wherever she went. The diamonds sparkled in the sun as she talked.


    She wished me to collect old debts from a list of men, which she handed over. "I hope you can do this in the next two weeks."


    It seemed rather short notice for such a long list. "Is there a reason for the deadline?"


    She nodded. "I didn''t want you to hear about this from someone else. I''m moving to another city."


    The news stunned me. "Moving away? But why?"


    She waved her hand. "This all looks lovely, but I''m close to bankruptcy. The cost to mine these so-called miracle gems is enormous. Now that they are so popular, the mining company is charging me double. Even these improved prices are only covering my bills."


    "But why move away?"


    "Business these days ... it''s just not what it used to be. I feel like I''m losing my touch." Her head drooped. "I''m getting too old for this. I need to think of my future." She gestured. "All this ... plus the Family fees every month ... I''m moving where I can live more simply."


    I was seventeen years old. I stood next to Tony a second after the announcement of our engagement. None of the hundreds of people in the hall moved. Disdain, shock, and horror filled every face as they stared at me. Roy stood there, glowering at me as if it were my fault. My face burned with humiliation.


    The elegant woman rose, gliding forward to take my hand. "Congratulations, my dear."


    Dame Anastasia went to the mantle, where a bank lock-box sat. She set the box on the table, took a small key from her pocket, and unlocked it. After removing her necklace, she placed it in the empty box, locked it, and handed me the key. "Yours: a token of my esteem and gratitude for doing me this service."


    I was astonished. "Surely I can''t accept this for payment. It''s too much. It''s too much even as a gift."


    "It''s no gift! Well, yes, it is, somewhat. Payment and gift both. I''m an old woman; I have no real need for this. And I don''t think I could sell it, even if I wanted to." She gazed at the box. "It was one of my most beautiful creations ... but I won''t be able to afford guards for it when I leave." She paused for a moment. "It''ll look stunning on you. The thought of you wearing this at some dinner or ball," she patted the box, "fills my heart with joy."


    "When do you plan to take your trip?"


    "As soon as possible. I have a buyer for the manor. I have to settle some business dealings before I can leave, but certainly within the next few weeks."


    "Do you have to leave so soon?"


    She gave me a fond smile. "You are a dear. But I''m moving, not dying; you and Mr. Spadros are welcome to visit anytime."


    The maid came in with a fresh pot of tea.


    When the maid left, Anastasia said, "There is another matter. Frank Pagliacci."


    Finally, someone with information on that murderous scoundrel. A bit late, now he was dead, but her information might give me some clue as to how to approach the problem of Jack Diamond. "Tell me what you know of him."


    She let out a breath, looking away. "I''ve been day-leasing my horses. It brings in some income. Two weeks ago, Frank Pagliacci leased a horse from me. He had done so before, and in the past, returned the horse in good order, so I leased him my best palomino. But he never brought it back. So I sent a letter asking for its return. He wrote a few days later saying it ran off."


    A few days later?


    "My men found the poor creature whipped almost to death outside a brothel in the Diamond Pot. The men there had bandaged its wounds and were taking care of it, but it''s too hurt for me to sell for what I wanted."


    I felt alarmed. "He leased the horse two weeks ago. And you received a letter from him when? The dates may be important."


    "Let me check my records." She left for a few minutes, returning with a ledger. "He leased the horse January 30th ¡ª"


    The day we rescued David Bryce.


    The day I shot Frank Pagliacci.


    "¡ª I sent the letter to him on the first of February. He replied on the third."


    I stared at her in horror.


    Frank Pagliacci was still alive.

 Chapter 2: The Queen of Diamonds - Round 9: The Danger

    Frank Pagliacci was still alive. How? "Might I see his letter?"


    Anastasia took a letter from several she had marking the place and handed it to me.


    The writing seemed different from the false note which started me on Frank Pagliacci''s path. It was a man''s heavy hand, yet a fine one, showing education and skill at writing. I handed the note back to her. "Thank you."


    "Was this information helpful?"


    "Very." But it felt surreal. Frank Pagliacci ... still alive? "Where does he live?"


    She handed me an envelope. "I send letters to his box at the post office on Market Center."


    Not much help there. "What does the man look like?"


    Color rose in her cheeks. "He''s quite handsome, that one. A charmer. About your age, tall, with brown hair." She paused, then shook her head. "But I can''t have anything more to do with him, not after what he did to my horse." She shuddered. "Something is deeply wrong with the man."


    I hoped she never learned of the terrible things he had done. Kidnapping, murdering boys ... who knew what else? "I''ll begin work at once on your debtors. I know just the person who might be able to help."


    On the mile-long walk home, Honor trailing three paces behind, I considered my situation. I didn''t miss when I shot Frank Pagliacci. But a serious hit would have left the man dead before he reached a doctor. Between the terrible fall from the overseer platform and the delay before his men got to him, I felt astonished he survived. But he did, and it was only a matter of time before he contacted Jack Diamond and they continued their spree of kidnapping and murder.


    Frank Pagliacci said he captured David to lure me. Then after capturing me, he planned to kill the Spadros Family one by one as they tried to rescue me. A foolish plan, but I suppose one an amateur villain with a desperate need for revenge might concoct.


    But Jack Diamond''s involvement didn''t make sense.


    Jack Diamond hated the Spadros Family because they supported and protected my father after he murdered Jack''s friend. But from all accounts, Jack Diamond was mad. Obsessed with cleanliness, refusing to dress in anything but white, even to the soles of his shoes, sleeping all day then not sleeping for days. He flew into a rage at the Grand Ball and even tried to attack Jonathan, his own twin. Yet at other times, he could appear perfectly normal.


    Jack''s reputation as a murderer and torturer went city-wide. But Jack had no reputation for convoluted plots such as this.


    And he had never targeted children before.


    But between Frank Pagliacci and Jack Diamond, Jack (when lucid) was the most dangerous of the two. While the Diamond Family was neither as rich nor as powerful as ours, Jack had enormous resources at his disposal. He could reach even into the Spadros quadrant: he left a Red Dog card on my doorstep despite our guards at the bridges and marinas.


    Jack Diamond was a menace. When I had proof of his involvement in David''s kidnapping and those boys'' murders, I planned to meet with the Four Families. I would demand Jack either be confined to a ward or they allow me to kill him.


    Spadros Manor appeared in the distance, a white two story building shaped as a U, its arms pointing towards me. I began to make a list as to who might be able to provide such proof.


    Eleanora Bryce, David''s mother. A man fitting Jack''s description came to her home a week before David was taken. We saw two men put a boy-sized struggling package into a carriage in the Diamond Pot: one man in white, the other in brown. Eleanora told me the man in white was the one who came to her home.


    The stable-man at the carriage house on Market Center told me these same two men stole the carriage. The man in brown gave the name Frank Pagliacci. I found David''s hair in the carriage, as well as a button and fibers from Frank Pagliacci''s jacket.


    This wouldn''t hold up in front of a Family inquiry. Also, the stable-man and Mrs. Bryce were both lowers, easily discredited.


    And even though I was the wife of the Spadros heir, I was a woman. Worse yet, a Pot rag, one of the untouchables, despised just for existing. My upbringing in a brothel, my lack of education, and anything else Julius Diamond could learn would be used to discredit me. And to testify against Jack, I would have to reveal my part in all this. The thought of what Tony and Roy might do if they learned of it terrified me. I had to find solid proof, something no one could gainsay, and I had very little time to do so before Jack Diamond and Frank Pagliacci regrouped.


    First, I must send word to everyone involved, warning them that their lives were in danger. I couldn''t risk that they''d be targeted without their knowledge. Mrs. Bryce and her son David were in particular danger. David had said nothing since his rescue, but he could not only identify Frank Pagliacci and Jack Diamond but testify against them.


    We reached the house and passed the stables. Tony''s men stood guard out at the street, tipping their Derby hats as I passed. We walked up the walkway and through the wide front porch. Honor opened the door for me. Pearson stood by his podium, glancing up as I entered. "Ah, there you are, mum. A letter just came for you."


    Honor helped me out of my coat, handing it to Pearson. I placed my handbag in my dress pocket and removed my hat, which Pearson also took. "Very good. I''ll take it in my study."


    I went upstairs to my room, where Amelia sat mending. She stood immediately when I came in. "How was tea, mum?"


    Had Pearson not told her about our conversation? "Lovely." I let her change my street boots out for soft house shoes, and then she got me out of my walking dress and into a house dress. I took Dame Anastasia''s lock-box key from my handbag and locked it in my dresser drawer.


    "I have the blue on blue chintz gown ready for dinner tonight," Amelia said.


    I saw no anger at my removing her son from their rooms without consulting her; if I were to guess, she appeared happy. "That''s fine, thank you."


    The poor child.


    Why would Amelia wish her own son gone? I never had a child, but never wanting to see Tony''s little sister Katherine? Or for her to think I hated her? It was monstrous.


    "Amelia, do you know what happens in the Pot to a man or woman who beats a child?"


    She gave me a blank, terrified stare.


    "The other adults gather, then beat that person to death." Amelia didn''t react, and I took a deep breath to keep my voice from shaking. "So I find it difficult to know the best course here. Shall I dismiss you?"


    Amelia came forward and fell to her knees, grasping my skirts. "Oh, please, mum, you can''t, not after all I''ve done for you. I never said anything about your going out at night, or your business, even when Mr. Roy cut me."


    "Get up." It was true. This made me angrier. I gritted my teeth to keep from kicking her. "Why does your boy think you hate him? Why do you hit him?"


    She turned away. "I ... I become so angry when I look at him, I can''t ... I can''t think. I know it''s wrong, but ..." She covered her face with her hands for a moment. "I can''t speak of it, mum ... I can''t ... even if I wanted to."


    "You''ve been forbidden to speak of it."


    Amelia stared at her hands. "Yes, mum."


    This had to be Roy''s doing. I clenched the sides of my skirt to keep myself from shouting. "You are not to hit your son again. Is that clear? Or I swear to all the gods above and below, I will dismiss you, and let the cards fall where they may."


    I didn''t wish to speak to Amelia any further, or even to see her, so I went downstairs and into my study. I lit a cigarette to calm myself.


    The letter Pearson spoke of sat in the center of my desk. It was from Madame Marie Biltcliffe, my dressmaker.


    Mrs. Spadros,


    This notice is to remind you of your appointment for tomorrow, the Sixteenth of February, from 2:00 to 4:30 pm, for the final fitting of your Spring gown. Please advise me at once if this time is no longer acceptable for you.


    Your servant, Marie Biltcliffe


    I had no such appointment, but inside this note was another:


    Mrs. Spadros, I must see you urgently. It is regarding my son. ¡ª EB


    This must be from Eleanora Bryce. Did David finally speak? The boy had done nothing but rock, sucking his thumb, since Morton and I found him in the basement of Jack Diamond''s Party Time factory. If David could identify Jack as the man who kidnapped him, that might be enough to persuade Julius Diamond to restrain his son.


    Madame Biltcliffe and I had an arrangement where she would pass notes from clients. She often concocted suitable alibis so I might speak to clients without my husband or his men knowing. But I also needed to speak with Madame further about the break-in at her shop.


    And the dress did need hemming.


    I wrote a note to Madame telling her the time tomorrow was acceptable, sealed it, then leaned back in my chair. Since the ordeal with finding David, all I wanted was to rest and recover. I still felt weak from my illness, and the walk to and from Anastasia''s home left me weary.


    I lit a cigarette from the end of the first one and gazed outside my window. The patrolling guards reminded me of our constant danger. I must establish my own income, and soon. If anything should happen to Tony, I would be on my own in a city full of people who hated me. Roy Spadros had made it clear any assistance or protection he offered was for Tony''s benefit alone.


    But I had no real paying cases at present. This business of Anastasia''s hardly qualified. Although the necklace was lovely, I would never sell it unless I found myself in dire straits. It was her lifetime achievement; she treasured it above all things.


    I didn''t understand why she would just give it to me.


    Yet the case itself was straightforward and simple. No police were likely to become involved. It could be handled by attorneys, putting myself in no danger whatsoever. And I had the perfect lawyer in mind.


    Well, he wasn''t a lawyer, not yet. But I felt certain I could persuade the apprentice law clerk Thrace Pike to help me, perhaps without even having to pay him.


    I chuckled to myself (until I began to cough) but felt unsettled about another matter. As much as I hated to admit it, I needed to contact Roy. I knew exactly what he meant by his note: it was time for my shooting lesson. We met every month, always when Tony was away.


    Roy could have had Molly send me a letter. Instead, he sent notice through Tony, knowing Tony would show me the note. Yet he didn''t specify why he wanted to see me. This indicated he believed Tony didn''t know of our lessons.


    This seemed unlikely. Tony made no comment or question as to what Roy and I might have to discuss, and he knew Roy would want to come here.


    Whether Tony knew of our lessons or not, the important thing was that I got them. I should have killed Frank Pagliacci that afternoon. The next time I had the man in my sights, I wanted to be prepared.


    Did I dare contact Roy, after Tony denounced him?


    No, I didn''t dare, not yet. Perhaps I could find someone else to teach me.


    The stable-man was a more difficult matter. I felt at a loss as how to warn him of the danger he might be in. I didn''t even know the man''s name.


    I took another sheet from my writing-desk and wrote:


    Stable-master, Market Center


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Sir:


    We met last month about two men, thieves of a carriage: one named Frank Pagliacci. I have reason to believe you are in mortal danger from these men. They have murdered two boys at least, and may be willing to remove all who might identify them.


    I can''t advise you as to the precautions you should take, but it might be well to arm yourself.


    With sincere regards,


    A friend.


    I put this note in my pocket. I couldn''t send it from Spadros Manor; the messenger boy would tell the stable-man who sent it. I would have to find some other way to get the message to him.


    When I gave Madame''s note to Pearson, he said, "Peter Dewey wishes to speak with you, mum."


    Amelia''s husband. Pip''s father. "Send him in."


    Our stable-man Peter Dewey had brown hair and eyes, and was of medium height. He had changed from his usual work clothes into his best suit. He held a clean but battered gray hat in both hands and peered around, eyes wide.


    He had never been in this part of the house before. "How can I help you?"


    At this point, he gave a slight start, and focused on me. I didn''t rise to greet him. "Begging your pardon, mum." He took a step towards my desk. "It''s about my boy." He took another step, and his shoulders straightened as he took a deep breath. "He''s too young to go to the men''s quarters. He''s only ten."


    "Why are you letting Amelia mistreat him?"


    Peter''s whole body jerked as if he had been slapped. "That''s none of your affair, mum."


    "It is my affair, when a boy in my household says it would be better had he not been born."


    Peter stared at me, eyes reddening. "When ¡ª?


    "Last night. I found him on the stair, wrapped in his quilt."


    He began shaking his head. "I''m sorry, mum, he shouldn''t have been there ¡ª"


    "I''m glad he was there. I''m glad he talked to me, and you will not punish him for it."


    He paled. "I''ve never laid a hand on him, mum. Never."


    "I know. He defends you."


    His shoulders drooped. "No. You can''t take my son from me."


    "I''m not. He''ll be in the same building. On the same floor."


    Peter didn''t say anything.


    I stood up, incensed. "Floorman help us! Think of your boy, instead of your pride."


    His head jerked up. "You wrong me, mum. I love the boy ¡ª" He stopped, as if he almost said too much.


    What was he going to say?


    Concern washed away my anger, as I came round the desk. "I only want to help him. He doesn''t have to go if he doesn''t want to. But give him a chance to live in peace. Whatever''s going on, surely he deserves that."


    Peter nodded, eyes on the floor. "Thank you, mum."


    "I''m sorry for what happened to Amelia. I never ¡ª"


    He gave me a brief, startled glance, then nodded. "All is forgiven, mum," he said quickly. "I have work to tend to."


    "Very well, you may go."


    What did he think I meant? What else happened to her? What was going on?


    ***


    Tony didn''t get home until time to dress for dinner. He ate silently, shoulders slumped, and went to his study straight after. I sat smoking and sipping wine as the maids cleared the table.


    I needed a post box like Frank Pagliacci had so I might send letters without anyone knowing from whence they came.


    I chuckled at the thought; if it weren''t for that vile man, I wouldn''t need to sneak around like this.


    I must warn the stable-man of the danger he was in. I couldn''t live with myself if I didn''t warn him and something happened to the man. Yet I couldn''t let anyone know I sent the message. What would Mrs. Jacqueline Spadros know about plots and murder?


    Jane Pearson came into the dining room. "Oh, there you are, mum." She came up to me and curtsied.


    "Please sit," I said, and she did.


    "I''ve chosen my replacement, mum. Anne should do well."


    "A very good choice, thank you."


    "My pleasure, mum. Did you decide about the outing?"


    I still had Anastasia''s list to take care of; planning an outing for several dozen people would take time. I hadn''t even thought of where to have it. "After the 100th celebration, perhaps? One major event a month is plenty."


    Jane smiled. "Yes, mum, I agree."


    I studied Jane. She took care of the house; she would know everything that went on in it, including what happened to Amelia. Pearson and Peter also knew. But Roy forbade them from talking about it. "I''m sure your husband told you I wish to move Pip to the men''s quarters."


    Jane glanced away. "Yes, mum."


    "Do you think it a good thing?"


    She shifted uncomfortably. "It''s not for me to say, mum."


    "But ¡ª"


    She sat stiffly, face pale, not looking at me. "Under the circumstances, mum, it seems a wise decision."


    Under the circumstances. "Thank you." Jane didn''t move. "Is there anything else?"


    "No, mum." She pushed back her chair and hurried out.


    Interesting, but not in a good way. I drained my glass and put out my cigarette. Then I went to Tony''s study and knocked.


    "Yes?" Tony sat behind his desk, a book in one hand, his forehead leaning on the other as he looked up at me. "Did you need something?"


    "I don''t mean to disturb you; I just wanted to make sure you were well." I never knew how he would react when he retreated into his study like this, so I stayed in the doorway.


    But he gave me a tired smile and put his book down. "It''s time we went to bed." He came round to take my hand.


    "You look weary," I said as we went up the stairs. "Would you like me to rub your back?"


    "That sounds wonderful."


    Perhaps I could learn what troubled him.


    When we got to our rooms, we separated to let our servants undress us. If Amelia was angry at my threats earlier, she gave no sign of it.


    It seemed odd to have a maid dress and undress you, but Molly told me the system of service allowed people to have an income. If we all dressed ourselves and did our own washing, what would they do to survive? At the time it made sense, but the more I saw of it the less I liked it.


    Once I was in my gown, Amelia curtsied and left. Tony came back in wearing his pajamas. He smiled, and came over to kiss me. "Now, what were we discussing?"


    "I was going to rub your back."


    "Yes," he said. He took off his shirt, then lay face down on the bed. I knelt on the bed beside him and began to rub his back.


    When I was a little girl, long before I got tangled up with the Spadros Family, Ma taught me how to rub a man''s back to get him to tell you his problems. "If we were in the Clubb Pot, we''d be selling their secrets, but it''s better here," she said. "They know the Dealers'' Daughters won''t speak of their troubles to others."


    At the time I thought the Clubbs must be wicked to tell someone else''s secrets. Now the idea of betraying someone like that just made me sad.


    "How did your day go?"


    "Mmm," Tony said, "well enough. I never thought this would take so long."


    "I''m sorry it''s taking so long. Have you run across problems?"


    He snorted. "Oh, yes, indeed, all day long it seems. When I go to do one thing, they find three more for me. One wall has bees in it, another termites, so both must be replaced. They can''t find the material I wanted in black, because it''s all been bought. So we had to find another supplier, who wants to import it from Chicago. Which means I have to fill out yet another form." He sighed, relaxing into the cushions. "I wish I''d never begun this."


    "My poor dear." I kissed his forehead, brushing his hair away from his face. "Just think of how beautiful it''ll be once it''s done."


    He rolled onto his side. "Come here." He took me into his arms. "You always try to help me." Then he paused. "Even when I don''t deserve it."


    "Tony ... I want to say something." I hoped he could hear it. "I have eyes. I know you love Gardena. It''s okay. I''m not angry, or hurt, or upset. We can''t help who we love ¡ª"


    "Shh," he said. "I love you. I married you. I don''t want to talk about her."


    I lay my head on his arm and put my hand beside his face, gazing into his eyes. I had so many questions that he didn''t want to answer. And then he kissed me.


    A pang of bitter disappointment: all I wanted was for him to talk to me. I closed my eyes, enduring his touch, and went in search of Joe.


    ***


    "NO!" Tony screamed.


    Our night footman Blitz rushed in, candle in one hand, the other on his holster. Then he peered at us. "Are you well, sir?"


    Tony sat upright in bed, eyes wild. He glanced around, then crumpled, hand to his forehead. "Gods, what a terrible dream."


    I sat up. "We''re fine, Blitz, thank you." Once he left, I said to Tony, "come here," and I laid his head upon my chest. "What did you dream?"


    He didn''t speak for several seconds. "I dreamed you were gone." He paused. "I dreamed you left me. You lay there, cold and still, and it was my fault."


    I closed my eyes, feeling sad. "Shh ... I''m here. All is well."


    He wrapped his arms around my waist. "You''re all I have," he said, his voice sleepy. "Please don''t leave me."


    Was he awake, or asleep? I never heard him say such things before. "I''m here, Tony ... all is well ... just rest." I held him tightly, tears in my eyes as I smoothed his hair.


    When Joe was well, if he really wanted to leave with me ... what should I do?


    "Jacqui? Please love me."


    My heart stopped within me for a moment. What was he asking? I had never lied to him in this area: I never once told him I loved him. What should I say?


    But his face grew peaceful; he was asleep.


    ***


    Madame Biltcliffe owned a dress shop on 42nd street in Spadros quadrant. Her shop had a polished oak storefront and large plate glass windows. Inside, it smelled of fresh, clean cloth, and felt warm and inviting.


    Madame, a handsome woman of middle age with perfect black hair, came to greet me as I entered. "Mrs. Spadros! So good to see you." She locked the door behind me, turning the front placard to, "Closed: entry by appointment only."


    My personal fitting room was ten feet square, with a door-sized curtained opening in the far wall. A small raised area in the center to stand on, and mirrored walls completed the scene. Mrs. Bryce sat in the corner on a stool, standing when I entered.


    Eleanora Bryce had graying brown hair and dark eyes, and wore widow''s brown. Once the curtain fell behind me, she said, "The man in white came round again."


    I stared at her, shocked. Mrs. Bryce lived in the Spadros slums, just outside the Pot. How had Jack Diamond managed to get there without alerting the guards? "What happened?"


    She sat on the stool, and Madame gestured for me to take my place on the raised area, so I did.


    Mrs. Bryce seemed hesitant. "I didn''t know what else to do. After you brought David home, I needed help, so I asked a neighbor to watch him. She was appalled at his condition and asked what happened. I told her as little as I could, but word got out, and the men have been watching for strangers. When they saw him, they chased him away with bricks. They say one hit him, but I didn''t see it."


    "You did the right thing."


    Madame brought in a basket filled with scissors, thread, measuring tapes, and so on. Behind her was her shop maid Tenni.


    Tenni, a girl of seventeen, looked like me from behind: light brown skin, curly reddish-brown hair. I sometimes switched clothes with her when on cases, so as to lead my men to believe I remained in the shop. Her eyes were brown and mine blue, but from a distance we looked similar. A shop maid''s uniform made a fair disguise for me, as no one would expect Mrs. Jacqueline Spadros to dress in such a way.


    "Would you step out so Mrs. Spadros can change, please?" Madame said to Mrs. Bryce.


    Mrs. Bryce nodded and went into the main store, letting the curtain fall behind her.


    Tenni helped me change out of my dress and into the green silk shantung gown. It was a lovely, serviceable dress, with black cording and embroidery upon the front bodice and waist, extending to the floor. The embroidery curved in such a way as to give the illusion that my waist was quite small. I found that part both intriguing and amusing. "I love it!"


    Madame''s reflection smiled from behind me as she arranged my skirts. "I''m glad it pleases you." She glanced up. "Mrs. Bryce, you may return if you wish."


    Eleanora resumed her seat in the corner. She appeared awed and a bit disturbed. "I never ¡ª" She took a deep breath. "One day we must speak of how you came to be here."


    Before her son David disappeared, Eleanora knew me only as a dirty, half-starved girl in the Pot. The contrast must have been remarkable. I glanced at Madame and Tenni, remembering the servants'' faces at my story on Queen''s Night. "It''s a long tale, not suitable for gentle folk."


    Mrs. Bryce stood. "Then it can wait. I don''t dare leave David for long."


    "I must tell you one thing more. The man we saw with him," I glanced at Tenni, who knelt in front of me, pinning my hem, "the one in brown. He still lives. Tell your neighbors of him as well."


    Mrs. Bryce''s eyes widened. "Thank you."


    "And please give my regards to your son. I will visit the moment I''m able."


    She curtsied. "I will." She left through the back curtain; the back door opened and shut.


    "Madame, I hope this is not too distressing, but would you tell me again of the break-in?"


    Madame glanced up at my reflection from where she knelt behind me. "It was during Yuletide, a few days before New Year''s. Mr. Roman across the street sent his shop maid to my home in the morning with the news."


    I frowned. "Mr. Roman?" The name seemed familiar.


    "Yes, the jeweler."


    Ah, a name from the list. "Did either of them see anything?"


    "He noticed the broken glass when he came to open the shop. The girl never saw a thing." Madame Biltcliffe worked in silence for a few minutes. "But there was one thing odd." She paused. "It may be nothing ..."


    Something about the way she said it made me uneasy. "What? Any detail may help."


    "Well," Madame said, "there was a card, as one might use for calling, with a dog stamped on it in red. I had never seen such a thing before."


    The Red Dog Gang.


    I found that same stamp on the wall outside David Bryce''s back stair after he disappeared. A card with the same stamp was left on my front steps. Red Dog stamps and cards had appeared at the scene of petty crimes throughout the Clubb quadrant shop district for weeks now. And the police found a Red Dog card on Herbert Bryce''s body after he was strangled to death.


    Madame said, "What does it mean?"


    I said, "I''ve seen this stamp before. I''m not certain of all the meanings this stamp might have. But it seems to be connected with a street gang called the Red Dogs." The Red Dog members I had met so far vigorously denied responsibility for the crimes, horrified at being framed for murder and kidnapping.


    "A street gang? Why would children wish to break into my shop, ruin the room, then take nothing?" She paused, gazing to the side. "I had forgotten to go to the bank that evening; I had my whole day''s take in the cabinet. It was still in the bag, untouched."


    These were not the actions of a street gang. "Madame, what''s in that room? What do you keep there?"


    She sat back on her heels. "It''s my office and where I store papers. Extra receipt books, writing paper, ink." A line appeared between her perfect black brows. "Invoices. Files. Measurements. I keep a folder on each woman so I may begin work as soon as I get the order. She shook her head. "I don''t know what they wanted."


    "Were the files touched?"


    "Everything was scattered," she said. "It was as if they wished to create as much chaos as possible. Thank the Dealer they didn''t open the ink! As it was, it took us hours to put it right."


    "And was every page accounted for? Nothing''s missing?"


    She shrugged. "As far as I know. I would have to go over my ledgers to make sure all the invoices remain there, and check each woman''s files to be sure."


    Frank Pagliacci''s kidnapping of David was personal. His mad boasts when he thought he had me, Morton, and David trapped only confirmed it. "Check mine first. If you find anything missing, even the smallest scrap, notify me at once. It could be important."


    She nodded, then began measuring the distance from my hem to the floor at different points. "I learned more about that button of yours."


    "Oh! Wonderful! What did you learn?"


    "The buttons are carved by hand. Only twenty were made."


    This was good news indeed. "And what jackets were made with them?"


    "That I don''t know. But when we are finished here, I''ll give you what I have."


    "Madame, when will my dress be ready?"


    She smiled. "I can finish it tonight. You may fetch it whenever is convenient. I imagine you''ll want it for the Celebration, no?"


    I would rather go to the Fire than to a celebration of the destruction of the Pot. But Madame had worked hard on my dress, so I said, "You''ve done a splendid job. It will be the best gown there."


    Madame gave me a paper with her notes about the button, and I gave her the letter to mail to the stable-man on Market Center. As I returned to Spadros Manor, I considered the break-in.


    The break-in at Madame''s shop was the key. No one would break into a dress shop office unless they wanted information on a customer. From all the evidence, it was likely the customer was me. The kidnappings, the ambush on Tony, and the theft of our Party Time shipment were all distractions. Perhaps even the murders of those boys were distractions as well. Their purpose was to keep me from investigating the break-in until Jack Diamond and Frank Pagliacci could put their real plan into place.


    What did Madame''s shop have?


    My measurements, the writing paper, records of Madame''s transactions with Tony.


    Invoices with his signature.


    The forged note on New Year''s Eve took on new meaning.


    Well, their plan worked.


    It galled me; I had been so blind.


    I wanted to visit David, but there was nothing else to do.


    I must tell Tony of the break-in at once.

 Chapter 2: The Queen of Diamonds - Round 10: The Distraction

    When I returned to the Manor, I asked Pearson, "Is Mr. Spadros home?"


    "Yes, mum, he''s in his study. He asked to take tea there."


    I went past Pearson to Tony''s study and knocked.


    "Come in." Tony sat behind his desk, surprise on his face. I must have looked peculiar, still dressed for the street as I was. "I hope your appointment went well?"


    I sat across from him. "Madame Biltcliffe''s dress shop office window was broken a few days before New Year''s Eve, and ¡ª"


    Tony sat forward. "What?"


    "Yes. The room was ransacked. I believe they were after my files. Invoices bearing your signature."


    Tony stared at me for a full twenty seconds, the little color he normally possessed draining from his face. "This explains something. I went to my father''s home, asking what he thought I could have done differently."


    I felt impressed. "It must have been difficult to do."


    Tony shrugged. "I''m glad I did. He said something which made no sense, so I asked what he meant. He showed me a letter, in my hand, with my signature, yet I didn''t write it. In it were wild tales of torturing my men to death. Unspeakable acts ¡ª even my father was shocked." He shuddered. "I wish I hadn''t read it."


    Good grief. Roy only found real enjoyment from the pain of others, and was known for torturing his enemies to death. For something to shock him ... it would have to be truly terrible. No wonder Tony was having nightmares.


    I recalled the article in the Golden Bridges about problems between the Harts and Clubbs. Had any other shops been broken into? "Tony, if they have your signature and your hand, we must contact the other Families, tell them to beware of any notes from us." The last thing we needed was for a war to begin because of a forged note.


    Tony nodded. "I received word from Alexander Clubb, asking if a letter from me was legitimate. It was not." He paused. "I''ll send word with Ten. They know he is to be trusted."


    Ten Hogan was Tony''s first cousin, six years his elder, who the men called Sawbuck.


    I leaned forward. "I believe the attack on you, the shipment theft, and the kidnapping of your men was to distract us from this break-in so we wouldn''t investigate it." Who would have expected a paper to cause so much trouble? "Madame said her shop was unusually busy after the break-in. More accomplices?"


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Tony put his hand to his forehead. "This is incredible. Why are we being targeted so?"


    The Clubbs had probably been saying the same thing for weeks now.


    Tony rested his hand on his desk. "Thank you for telling me this. I''m not sure what I would do without you."


    We sat gazing at each other across his desk. I wondered what it might have been like if we had been given a chance to meet, and court, and perhaps even fall in love, instead of it all being forced upon us. I didn''t know what I felt for Tony: friendship, companionship, at times, deep pride in him. He had grown a great deal during the past six weeks.


    I remembered Joe''s question: do you love him?


    I didn''t know.


    I remembered Gardena. If Roy hadn''t taken me from my home, would Tony have married her instead? Perhaps that might have been the better choice. "What will you do?"


    He glanced aside. "Other than send word to the other Families, I''m not sure what we can do."


    This I could help with. And it was a good distraction from things I could do little about. "All messages to another Family should come from a trusted hand. No more messenger boys. Also, the contents should have a specific word signifying it''s from us, that few know."


    Tony nodded. "Good."


    "And no message should be acted upon without confirmation of who sent it."


    Tony hesitated. "Sending notes isn''t all they might do." He retrieved a ledger from his desk. "I haven''t done the accounts ¡ª"


    I stared at him, shocked. The Golden Bridges article about the Harts refusing to pay what they said were false bills now made sense. "Tony ... could they be using our own money against us?"


    His face turned red. "I don''t know."


    I reached across the desk and he put his hand in mine. "Tony ... I don''t know what''s happening. But you can''t keep on like this. I worry for you. You''re working long hours. You''re not sleeping well ¡ª"


    He flinched.


    "¡ª and you can''t keep doing everything yourself. Hire someone you trust to go over all the accounts, even before the break-in at Madame''s shop. We must know what they''re doing, and what they''ve done. And we must know it soon, if we''re to stop whatever it is they plan."


    He didn''t meet my eye, but took a deep breath and let it out, then rose, moving to the door. "I must gather my men."


    "Tony ¡ª"


    He stopped, still facing away. "Yes?"


    "Would you teach me to shoot?"


    He let out a breath and faced me. "Why?"


    It seemed obvious to me. "What do you mean, why?"


    "Why would you possibly want to learn to shoot people?"


    Why would I want to learn to shoot? How did he not know his father had been teaching me to shoot since I was twelve? But his eyes held only confusion. "Well ¡ª" Obviously his parents hid my lessons from him somehow. And his men did too, which meant Roy told them not to tell him. I couldn''t think of a reason for Tony not to know I could shoot. But until I knew why Roy didn''t want Tony to know, I felt afraid to say anything. I didn''t want to make the same sort of mistake I had at the dinner. Nor did I want to upset Tony even more than he was already. "You''re always so worried about me. I thought ¡ª"


    He let out a short amused laugh. "No, no, no ... you don''t need to worry about such things."


    Tony wasn''t a good shot. Maybe he felt embarrassed? "If you don''t have time, maybe one of your men could ¡ª"


    "No." He shook his head. "Under no circumstances ask them."


    "But why?"


    "It''s not proper. Besides, I don''t want you involved in such things." He smiled at me the way one might smile at a small child. "Just stay near your men, and all will be well."


    "But ¡ª"


    "No. That''s final. Don''t ask me again."


    He left, closing the door behind him. I went to change out of my street clothes and tell Pearson that tea should be delayed.

 Chapter 2: The Queen of Diamonds - Round 11: The Disguise

    After Tony gathered his men, they went into his study for quite some time. Since they didn''t seem to want or need me there, I went to my study and took my tea there.


    I needed to learn to shoot better. Tony wouldn''t teach me, and he forbade me to ask his men. There were no shooting ranges in Bridges for women. Perhaps Josie knew how to shoot? I doubted it, but I would ask the next time I saw her.


    The more pressing issue was that for ten years Tony''s men had hidden something from him. Why would his father Roy (and more importantly, his mother Molly) not tell him I knew how to defend myself?


    When Mary came to take my plates after tea, I said, "Would you ask your father to come here?"


    "Certainly, mum," she said.


    A short while later, Pearson arrived. "How may I help?"


    "Which days is Mrs. Molly Spadros ''at home''?" A proper lady had days which were set aside for visitors to call. I did this for over a year after Tony and I married, and sat for many a day waiting for someone to visit.


    "I''ll inquire, mum."


    "Thank you, Pearson."


    ***


    At dinner, Tony said, "I hope Dame Anastasia is well?"


    "She means to leave the city."


    "I''m sorry to hear that. I know she''s been a friend to you."


    I felt a melancholy sense of loss. "She has."


    We resumed eating in silence for some time, then Tony said, "I''m going to be gone tomorrow."


    "The casino?"


    He nodded. "The city inspector will be there, plus the architect." He paused, taking a bite of his dinner. "I should be home by tea-time at any rate."


    "Dame Anastasia asked me to help with some of the arrangements. Perhaps I''ll do that tomorrow while you''re away."


    Tony smiled fondly. "Good. Spend all the time you need to with her."


    He obviously thought I meant to help with such things as paperwork or perhaps packing, but I had a different plan in mind.


    ***


    The next day, the headline for the Bridges Daily read:


    EXPLOSION AT CLUBB MARINA


    A boat at the Clubb Marina suffered total damage after an explosion just prior to midnight. The boat was in one of the day hire berths, and it is unknown what boat it was or whether anyone was aboard at the time. Police are investigating the wreckage to determine the type and cause of the explosion. As of yet there are neither witnesses nor suspects.


    Did Morton say he had no berth in Clubb quadrant, or was that just at the Women''s Center? I couldn''t remember. But I had no word from him in almost three weeks. Although I still felt irked at Morton for abandoning me and David after we escaped the factory, I now felt concerned for his safety.


    ***


    I visited Anastasia after the morning meeting, taking the carriage this time.


    While Honor and the coachman cooled their heels by the carriage, I changed into a scullery maid''s calico dress. Anastasia bound my hair in a white scarf while I removed my makeup.


    My men were forbidden to leave the carriage alone, so one of them would be out front with it at all times. I had to get out of the house and past them somehow.


    Anastasia kept glancing at my face. "That bruise on your cheek is a fearsome disguise."


    "A blessing from Roy Spadros." In a way, I deserved it. I was foolish to try to seduce a reporter, especially without investigating his background. If I had, I would have known he belonged to the Bridgers, a fanatical religious group. Thrace Pike''s enraged pamphlet denouncing me almost got the both of us killed.


    Anastasia sighed. "As I feared. Yet it may be of use to us." She turned my chair towards her, and opened a box with makeups of various colors, "from my time in the theater."


    "You were in the theater?"


    "Oh, yes, as a much younger woman. It was one of many tries the city made to revive some culture after the Coup." She smiled. "I don''t believe I was half bad at it. Makeup, I mean."


    "I had no idea."


    "It was quite fun. Of course, my father was horrified at the idea of me being anywhere near the theater, but I was rather wild then." She laughed. "I met your friend''s mother once there when she was a small girl."


    I blinked, confused. "Whose mother?"


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    "The Diamond girl ... Gardena, is it? Terrible what happened to her mother Rachel. She was a beautiful child." She paused. "I''m not unsympathetic to the girl''s feelings on the matter, but she must learn to control her temper."


    Anastasia did have a point.


    "It''s even worse when you consider what people say ... I mean ... oh, perhaps I shouldn''t speak of it."


    "What?"


    She lowered her voice. "They say Rachel''s husband Julius still takes his husband''s prerogative, even though her mind is like that of a child. Shameful, if you ask me."


    Would he really do that? The man could have any woman in the city.


    "Done," Anastasia said. "Perfection."


    When I looked at the mirror, a much younger woman stared back at me. Anastasia''s makeup added a recently bruised eye atop the old bruise on my cheek.


    "You will be a young maid, beaten often, seeking help against her lover." Anastasia powdered over it for just a moment, as if I had tried to hide the marks, yet had done so poorly.


    I almost feared to appear before Thrace Pike in this manner. "You must show me how to do this." Then I hesitated, remembering the numerous maids in my kitchens. "How can I leave? Surely your staff will know I don''t belong here."


    Anastasia smiled. "Never fear." She led me downstairs to a side door, then to a gate, where a man stood guard. She put her arm around my shoulders. "This girl is under my protection. Bring her to me at once when she returns."


    The man flinched when he looked at my face, then nodded. "Yes, m''lady."


    With an old shawl around my shoulders and a covered basket on my arm, I hurried past my carriage, head down, as any young maid would past two strange men. They paid no attention to me.


    ***


    I hadn''t made an appointment with Thrace Pike. But when I went to his grandfather''s law firm and asked to see him, I was shown up at once.


    Thrace Pike''s entire office was smaller than one of my closets: dusty, paneled in dark brown, packed full of books and papers. A narrow window let in the pale light of an overcast sky, doing little to improve the room''s look.


    Thrace Pike, a man of twenty with straw-colored hair and eyes of very dark brown, stood when I entered. He wore the same threadbare brown suit he had worn the last three times we met. Like his window, he was thin, pale, and transparent, barely containing his horror at my appearance. I mentally congratulated Anastasia at her skill with makeup.


    "Please, sit down." He pointed to a chair beside his desk, and I sat. He leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees, and spoke in a kind manner. "How may I help you?"


    I smiled. "You finally don''t recognize me."


    He frowned, peering at me. "Mrs. Spadros?" He spoke in a whisper. "Dealer help us." He gripped the corner of his desk nearest me, sounding truly aghast. "What happened to you?"


    I grinned. "A friend with skill in makeup."


    The color returned to his face. "You''ve had your joke. What do you want?"


    "Surely you don''t think I of all people could visit an attorney''s office dressed in my own clothes? With my usual makeup?" What a foolish man. "I''m here on business. Two items of business, to be exact."


    "Business." He sounded confused. "But you have an attorney. Why come here?"


    "The Spadros Family has an attorney." I placed my hand gently on his. "But this is not Spadros Family business." I gazed into his eyes. "These matters are of importance to me. I would be obliged if they didn''t hear of it."


    After several seconds, Mr. Pike flinched, drawing his hand back, his face red. "Of course not. No one will hear it from me."


    "I knew I could depend on you."


    At my words, his cheeks grew even redder. He took a deep breath and let it out. "How can I help you?"


    I took the list from my basket. "A friend wishes these men to repay their debts." I handed the list to him.


    "Is there a reason your friend doesn''t use her own attorney?"


    "I did wonder that myself, to be quite honest. She spoke of being in financial distress. Perhaps she can''t afford the retainer?" I shook my head. "It''s terrible to see a woman placed in difficulty."


    Mr. Pike nodded, keeping his face quite still. From his previous rants, I believe he was secretly pleased at a rich woman being brought low, being the champion of the poor that he was, at least, in his own mind. "I''ll send notices to these men at once." He paused. "What is your second matter?"


    I took a deep breath and let it out. I needed to word this carefully. "I believe Jack Diamond guilty of a crime. He would kill me if given the chance. I need information about him."


    Thrace Pike''s face grew pale.


    I hastened to say, "I don''t need information in order to harm him. I only wish to gain proof of his offense before going to the Four Families for an inquiry. They will deal with him."


    Mr. Pike stood. "I must speak with my grandfather at once." He hurried out.


    Ah, the grandfather. At last I would meet him.


    I waited there for a quarter hour before Mr. Pike returned. "Please follow me."


    I followed him past dozens of tiny rooms similar to his own with young men toiling away. Then we reached a spacious one, where an old man sat behind a desk of mahogany.


    Doyle Pike: white hair, skillfully cut and immaculately combed, shrewd hazel eyes. His clothing probably cost more than Mr. Pike''s entire monthly salary. He didn''t rise to meet me. "Have a seat, Mrs. Spadros."


    Thrace closed the door behind us.


    "Whoever did your makeup is a master," Doyle Pike said. "I''ve seen many a beaten woman, and if I didn''t know better, I would have sworn you to be one too."


    I took the offered seat. I couldn''t say it was a pleasure to meet him, so I said nothing.


    Doyle Pike peered at me for several seconds, then placed a sheet on the desk in front of me. "Thrace told me what you want. Here are our usual charges."


    I didn''t touch the sheet. "So you''ll perform these duties?"


    "Dunning these shop owners is a minor matter, especially if it''s for you, as opposed to, say, your husband. But we don''t get involved in Family matters. Bad for business."


    "I see." I scanned the page; this was more than I planned to spend. "I have a question."


    Doyle Pike smiled. It reminded me of a picture I saw at Spadros Manor as a child, in a book of legendary creatures, pre-Catastrophe: the alligator, preparing to bite. "By all means."


    I gave Thrace Pike a quick glance.


    "My grandson has given up all Bridger connections to work here," Doyle Pike said. "It was a condition of my taking him on."


    Really? I turned to look at Thrace Pike, who stared straight ahead, face crimson. "I''m astonished. And your wife as well?"


    Thrace Pike didn''t move or look at me.


    "The whole lot of them," Doyle said. "I disowned his father years ago for getting involved with such nonsense. Good to see young Thrace here finally come to his senses. Not only are the Bridgers bad for business, you aren''t going to get anywhere in this city being connected to them."


    So Mr. Thrace Pike had been serious when he said he wanted to overthrow the Families.


    I rose. "I''m doing this on behalf of an elderly friend, who''s in financial difficulty. This is more than I''m prepared to pay."


    Doyle smiled. "You''re doing this on behalf of a woman who takes in more money in a month than every attorney on this block combined, who it seems has you taken in as well."


    I didn''t like the sound of that, and perhaps it showed in my expression, for he laughed, picking up the sheet on the desk. "These are our usual charges. You know, for the usual folk. But for Mrs. Spadros, perhaps we could come to an agreement."


    I sat. "I''m listening."


    He picked up the list of names and ran down it. "I imagine you''ve already been paid. My guess is, in gems. Am I right?"


    I smiled.


    "I find I have a lack of interest in gems. But I do have an interest in new customers. For every name on this list, you refer a customer to me, and we can call it even."


    "I find I have a lack of interest in providing you with new customers. I would prefer to keep this arrangement between ourselves, and not involve others." Others who might wonder why Jacqueline Spadros referred them to an attorney uninvolved in the Spadros Family Business. "Perhaps a cut of any money recovered. Say, 1%."


    Doyle Pike leaned forward, elbows on his desk. "Where were you when I was thirty ... "


    "Not even a consideration in my grandmother''s mind, I imagine."


    His face soured. "1% it is." He glanced up at Thrace Pike, who stood gaping at our exchange. "Well, go on, boy, get to it. We need to earn our cut."


    Thrace hurried out.


    These men must have owed Anastasia a great deal of money. Perhaps I should have asked about this before taking on the case. Maybe her diamond necklace, instead of being too great a payment, wasn''t payment enough.

 Chapter 2: The Queen of Diamonds - Round 12: The Investigator

    "Now about this business with the Diamonds," Doyle said. "I have just the man for it." He opened his desk drawer and took out a business card. "Name''s Jake Bower. Does good work." He handed me the card. "Just a few doors down. Tell him I sent you."


    Jake Bower was a blocky man, forty or so, dark as a Diamond with a ready smile. He had short, wavy black hair, wore a dark blue suit, and walked with a limp. He reminded me of Julius Diamond, if the man had any humor to him. Jake met me at the door of his office, and after a moment''s hesitation said, "Come in."


    I went inside. Through a partially opened door, I glimpsed a small room to the left, which held a neatly-made bed and several portraits on the walls. A short, unlit hallway lay straight ahead. To the right, the front room was almost completely lined with dark wooden bookshelves and file cases. A small desk stood underneath the window; an oval table in the same dark wood stood in the center. He gestured for me to sit, and he sat across from me, folding his hands on the table. "What can I do for you?"


    "I was referred to you by Doyle Pike."


    "And you might be?"


    I could imagine his confusion: I wore a scullery maid''s dress, yet spoke like an upper. "That comes later. First, tell me of your work and qualifications."


    He laughed, long and hard, as if my words delighted him. "You''re no scullery wench. Very well. I have no appointments today. If you can''t pay me, at least you''re amusing."


    Good. He took payment in advance, as I did.


    "I assume you know what I do. What I do not do is work for the police."


    Even better. "Are you a Diamond?"


    He laughed again. "Not that I know of. My family has been in Merca since before the Catastrophe. But my looks do come in handy. It amuses me to dress up and stroll the Diamond promenades alongside those moneybags from time to time."


    Alone? I saw no evidence of a wife. "Master Bower ¡ª"


    "That''s Mr. Bower, if you please, miss." He rubbed the back of his neck. "It''s a long story. A reason I have nothing to do with police." He paused. "Just so we''re clear. Please continue."


    "My apologies, sir." I hesitated, not sure how to proceed. "First of all, this is a Family matter."


    "And if I''m not mistaken, involving the Diamonds. Correct?"


    "Yes. So anything I tell you must remain here, between us. Do you understand?"


    He straightened. "I should not call myself a professional otherwise."


    "Even if you were to face a torture room?"


    His eyes widened. "I''ve never considered such a thing. To be in such a room would mean certain death, yet I suppose I would do my best."


    I smiled. If we were fortunate, it would never come anywhere close to that. "Excellent. Then next, you should know you have the pleasure of speaking to Mrs. Jacqueline Spadros. I wish you to find information on Master Jack Diamond."


    Mr. Bower stared at me in shock. "I''m not sure whether to be more surprised at your face, your name, or your target."


    "The face is makeup. The name is inconsequential. Jack Diamond is the true problem."


    He took a deep breath and let it out. "Indeed."


    I gave Mr. Bower an abbreviated version of the events of this new year: the kidnapping of David Bryce; the murders of the two young men who searched for him; the firefight at the Diamond Party Time factory. "This is personal, and direct, targeted to torment me. I have seen a man I believe to be Jack Diamond twice involved with this Frank Pagliacci. I can remove that villain myself; to get Jack Diamond, I need proof of his crimes to set before the Four Families."


    Mr. Bower sat motionless, watching me for several seconds. "What sort of proof do you need?"


    "Records of any kind linking him to the locations I saw him and the known dates of the disappearances. Anything which links him to these murders. Witnesses." I shrugged. It would be a miracle if anyone was willing to speak against Jack Diamond, but it would do no harm to try. "There must be something."


    He nodded. "That I can do. Anything else?"


    "If you can''t find anything ... perhaps a way to make him hesitate to torment my people further."


    Mr. Bower''s eyes widened. "Blackmail? It would need to be something quite extraordinary to cause Master Diamond to care if it be released. Unless you want me to go after his family ¡ª"


    "No," I said, thinking of Jon and Gardena. "Absolutely not. Under no circumstances are you to put them in harm''s way."


    "Very well."


    After that it was merely a matter of details.


    ***


    A group of elegantly dressed women stood talking at the taxi-carriage stop. One woman with curly red hair had her back to me. She spoke in an animated fashion, waving her arms around. As I drew closer, it became obvious by her accent, which was quite strong and distinct, that she was an outsider. When I walked past, I glanced over at the group ¡ª and stopped.


    "Zia?"


    I couldn''t believe my eyes. Blaze Rainbow and his younger sister Zia had led me to believe that she was deaf and mute. Yet here she was ... talking! The other women stared at me, then at Zia. Zia''s face, at first puzzled, turned white.


    I took a step towards her. "Zia, where''s your brother?"


    She turned and ran.


    The women called for help. Ignoring their shouts, I chased Zia down alleyways, along streets. We pushed past promenading families, cart vendors. She stumbled over a sign outside a shop, knocking it over, shaking off the shopkeeper''s outraged grasp. Then she turned right into a long narrow alley. I caught up to her, grabbed her arm. "Where''s Blaze Rainbow?"


    She shook me off. "Leave me be!"


    "You''re not deaf or mute. Why did you lie?"


    She reached down for a weapon. I dropped my basket and put my boot-knife to her throat before she even reached hers, forcing her back up against the wall. "None of that, now. I''ve no need for killing. Show me your hands." She put them up against the wall. "Where''s Blaze Rainbow? He owes me money!"


    She laughed, unafraid. "He owes me too. Your precious Blaze Rainbow is mad. He tried to kill me!"


    "What? When?"


    "Right after your little boat ride. He''s nutty as a fewking loon, going on about Frank Pagliacci."


    "You know Frank Pagliacci? What did he say about him?"


    "He kept going on bout how he was a murderer."


    I stared at her. "Frank Pagliacci IS a murderer."


    Her nose and eyes reddened, disbelieving outrage crossing her face. "You''re a liar!" She moved incredibly fast, swiping my knife down and aside, dodging away as it clattered to the ground. She threw a right hook at my face, but I twisted left. A grating slipping sound and a crash came from behind. When I turned, Zia lay on the sandy cobblestones, breathing heavily, the stack of wooden boxes by her head tumbling to the ground.


    Perhaps I should have thanked Roy Spadros for the practice in dodging his blows over the years.


    Zia lay on the ground, face turned away, still panting.


    I felt sorry for her. She really believed Frank Pagliacci was a good person. I walked to her, leaning over to help her up. "Come on, Zia ..."


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    She threw sand in my face and ran. By the time I could see clearly again, she was gone.


    Damn.


    A dark patch stained the ground where she lay. I went up the alley and retrieved my knife; a line of blood ran along its edge.


    I wiped the knife clean and put it away, silently thanking Josephine Kerr.


    "Again," Josie said. "Faster."


    She was just one year older but I always felt like a little girl beside her. "I''m trying."


    She shook her head, then her knife appeared in front of my eyes as if by magic. She wasn''t even sweating. "Trying will get you dead. Do it again. Faster."


    The day I pulled my knife as fast as she did, she let me become one of the Watchers. I was fourteen years old and a fast runner. I wanted to run with the gang, but she said no, I couldn''t be risked with that. At the time, I felt as if I wasn''t good enough.


    After the past six weeks, though, I was beginning to wonder if Josie might have had an inkling of what was going to happen to me, even before I did.


    I coughed. Grit irritated my eyes. I was dirty, my hair was a mess, and I must have breathed some of that dust in, because I kept coughing. Weary, I undid my hair, shook the sand out, then wrapped it in the scarf again.


    What a day.


    Whistles and shouts came from the street, accompanied by the sound of feet running my direction.


    Damn that woman! Not only did she get me dirty, she set the police on me for good measure.


    I grabbed Anastasia''s basket, her shawl, and the large red kerchief covering it from where they lay on the ground and ran around the building. It was then I realized I was near my friend Anna''s shop. So I hurried down the back alley, pulling my hair free of its white scarf and shoving it under the red kerchief. I couldn''t change my dress, but that I could.


    Shouts and feet came from around the corner behind me as I twisted my hair into a bun. I peeked around the corner. No one was there, so I rushed across the alley and up the stairs to Anna''s back door, which she always kept unlocked. I slipped in, locking the door behind me.


    I slid down the door and sat. That was too close.


    Anna Goren was an apothecary, the woman who sent my morning tea. Over the years, she had helped me identify many strange substances I found during my cases.


    Anna''s back room was full of various testing mechanisms. A small lemon-yellow table and two wooden chairs stood in the corner at the far end, across from the door to her shop. To my left, a bed and small end table lay in the corner, both piled high with books and papers.


    The lock rattled behind me, and I crouched behind one of Anna''s machines, which sat quiet. If I peeked out, I could see the open doorway to the front room. Anna hummed to herself as she moved about the storefront. But I didn''t dare show myself yet.


    My caution turned out to be justified: a few moments later, Anna''s front door jingled as someone entered.


    "Can I help you?" Anna said, her high-pitched quavering voice sounding wary.


    "Probationary Constable Paix Hanger ¡ª" the man said.


    The last time I had seen the man, he was a full constable, and working in Spadros. I felt a twinge of guilt for his present situation ¡ª demoted and confined to Market Center, I imagined ¡ª but this lasted barely a moment.


    "¡ª I''m looking for a woman, beaten about the face, dressed as a scullery maid. There''s been a knifing; the woman was last seen running in this direction. She''s considered armed and dangerous. Have you seen her?"


    "I have not," Anna said. "No one''s been here for an hour."


    "Have you no customers?"


    Anna sounded offended. "I am no tradesman; I provide apothecary services to the entire city. Only those bringing in and picking up orders arrive on a regular basis."


    "I see. I would like permission to search your shop, in case the woman slipped past you."


    "You may certainly not have permission," Anna said. She moved towards the doorway. A bookcase stood just on the other side of the doorway; a baseball bat leaned against it. "This is my home, under protection of law ¡ª you need a warrant to come any further." She stood in the doorway, her back to me, her lined brown hand on the bookcase just above the bat''s handle.


    "My apologies, mum." PC Hanger''s voice retreated. "If you should see this woman, please notify us at once."


    Anna didn''t move until the door jingled once again. Then she let out a breath. "You can come out now." She turned towards me. Today she wore a deep purple cotton dress with a white apron. "I heard the lock rattle; I know you''re still here."


    I emerged from behind her machine. "I''m sorry to cause you trouble, Anna, but I didn''t know where else to turn."


    She frowned. "How do you know my name?


    "Anna, it''s me." I took a step towards her. "Mrs. Spadros."


    She stared at me as if she had seen a ghost. "Good heavens! Did you really cut someone? Are they dead? What happened to your face?" She paused. "Did they hurt you?"


    "The makeup is a disguise, Anna, like the dress. I had to come here in secret. And yes, someone did attack me, but she was alive when last I saw her. I need help, and I don''t have much time."


    A long strand of curly brown hair fell beside her face from its untidy pile atop her head. She put her hand to her heart. "By the Shuffler! I''m so grateful you''re not hurt." She fanned her face. "What can I help with, dearie?"


    I studied her. Perhaps ... "There are two matters ¡ª"


    "Anything, my dear. Those horrid police constables won''t hear of you from me."


    I shook my head; if she were going to do that, she would have when PC Hanger was in her shop. "What have you learned of the Magma Steam Generator? Can it be fixed?"


    The Magma Steam Generator two miles deep under Spadros Manor was one of many which powered the city of Bridges. Our Inventor told me last month that the drill tube which allowed access to the lava was failing. This meant that the rest of the city''s tubes probably were as well. This would bring the city, an immense mechanism, to a standstill, making it unlivable.


    She took my arm and brought me to the table. "Sit, please. Would you like some tea?"


    I chose the chair which put me out of view of the street. "If you have some made."


    She blinked. "Ah, yes. Well, no."


    "Don''t trouble yourself then." I coughed. "If you might just tell me what you''ve learned ..."


    Anna sat across from me. "I''ve learned little of it, even in the libraries. But I''ve considered the matter thoroughly." She paused, then spoke slowly, as if measuring every word. "If there is a particular way the tube was supposed to have been tended, by means of a mechanism to keep it from deteriorating, as your Inventor says, then the mechanism should still be there. And if the mechanism is there, the controls to it must be close by. If you might be able to set that right, the problem may take care of itself. I''m not sure if this is possible." She shrugged. "Perhaps someone has already thought of this. But perhaps it might help."


    I felt chagrined that I not thought of this simple thing. "Thank you, Anna, I''ll pass this along." Inventor Call had probably already thought of it, but perhaps it might help.


    She smiled fondly. "No trouble at all, dearie."


    "May I borrow a dress? If I go out like this, I''ll never get off the island."


    "Certainly!" She bounded from her chair and went to her bed. Beside the foot of the bed, right where I had crouched, she pressed on the wall panel. This panel clicked open, turning sideways on hinges to reveal a hidden closet. In it hung several dresses and shawls on hooks. A black hat and a white bonnet sat on a small shelf above the dresses. "Come here." Anna began dusting me off. "Never fear," she said, "I won''t let you come to harm." The door jingled again, and her voice lowered to a whisper. "I''ll leave you to dress ¡ª take whatever you need." She went out to the front room. "May I help you, mum?"


    I surveyed the dresses as Anna talked with the woman in the front of the store. I needed something light which I could change out of myself; I still must appear in front of Anastasia''s man as a scullery maid. Then I had an idea. Since Anna wore a larger size than I did, I put one of her dark purple dresses on over mine. Fortunately, the hat had a veil.


    A dark purple dress and a black hat seemed suspiciously like mourning garb; I wondered who Anna had lost.


    The door jingled again. A few moments later, Anna returned. She hurried over, took my face in her hands and kissed my forehead, as she always did. Then she put the hat on me and adjusted my veil. "Now off with you." She wagged her finger. "And don''t use that horrid disguise again near me ever again."


    "I''ll send your dress in a day or so."


    "Don''t fret, dearie, just get home safe."


    "I will, Anna." She let me out of the back door, and I waved as I went off to find a taxi-carriage.


    ***


    On the ride back to Anastasia''s house, I considered Zia. I could see an outsider pretending to be deaf if she didn''t want anyone to hear her speak, but obviously she had no problems speaking in public. Why would Morton go along with it? How was it that his sister was an outsider? Was she even his sister? And why pretend she was deaf? Why would they lie to me?


    Zia didn''t speak about Morton as a sister would. She held no sorrow over his trying to kill her, for one thing. She either was lying about him trying to kill her or she wasn''t his sister at all. Or something was seriously wrong with her mind.


    Perhaps Zia was Morton''s lover, and they had a falling out over her loyalty to Frank Pagliacci.


    But then I remembered Eleanora''s words about her visit to the police station, the day I went to her shop:


    "What did the couple look like?"


    Mrs. Bryce smiled like a young girl. "Nice looking, especially the man!" She fanned herself with her left hand. "They were about your age, and the lady had red hair."


    This sounded suspiciously like Frank and Zia.


    At least Morton made it back to the boat safely. That was some small consolation.


    Did Morton really try to kill her?


    I couldn''t see him doing that. He was reckless, and at times less than a gentleman. But whether she was his sister or his lover, I couldn''t picture him trying to kill her.


    ***


    The taxi-carriage deposited me near a fir thicket several blocks away from Anastasia''s mansion. After the carriage left, I hid from view, pulling Anna''s dress and hat off. I put her items in the basket, covering them with the red kerchief. I then put the scarf over my hair and the shawl around my shoulders before venturing down the street. Honor and the driver stood talking; they gave me a brief glance then went on as before. The man at the side gate ushered me to Anastasia''s rooms without a word.


    When her door closed behind me, Anastasia said, "You look as if you''ve had quite a day."


    "I feel as if I need another bath."


    Anastasia laughed as she dusted me off.


    I began combing the sand out of my hair then stopped, surveying my face in the mirror. "You must show me how to do this makeup ¡ª it''s quite convincing."


    "Oh!" Anastasia said. "I can do better." She went into her closets. Several minutes later, she emerged, carrying a book: The Essentials of Stage Makeup.


    I gasped in delight. "Wonderful! This will be ever so helpful."


    "It''s yours," Anastasia said. "I''ll get some cold cream for your face." She returned to her closets, emerging with a jar as I finished combing my hair. "What happened?"


    While putting the cold cream on, I told her what happened between Zia and I ¡ª without mentioning names.


    Anastasia said, "You''re investigating Frank Pagliacci."


    I reached for a cloth and began wiping the makeup off my face. "I did ask about him for a reason."


    She shook her head. "You must not pursue this man. I beg you. Stay away from him. He''s much too dangerous." She paused, her head down, shoulders drooping. "I wish we had never met."


    "I''ll be careful."


    "His associates are even more dangerous than he is. Promise me you''ll avoid him. Those who''ve crossed him are dead."


    Anastasia sounded so afraid that I took her hand. She was an old woman; no need to upset her. "I promise."


    "You''ll do as you please, of course, as you always do." She paused. "You must stay safe; I want to show you the city when you visit."


    I went back to removing my makeup. "Where are you going?"


    Anastasia put her finger to her lips, eyes wide. "No one must know, not even you. If you were to be caught .... No. With my men here, I''m safe for now, but not even they know. I can''t chance Frank finding me in a strange city, unprotected."


    She''s truly afraid of him. Frank Pagliacci didn''t seem so frightening that day in the factory, but she seemed to know him much better than I. "I understand."


    "When I''ve arrived, I''ll get word to you. I promise."


    I chuckled. "I''m seldom difficult to find." Then it occurred to me: if Frank Pagliacci (or Jack Diamond, for that matter) truly wanted to capture me, they had many opportunities to do so which they never took. What did it mean?


    By the time I cleaned my face, put on my usual makeup, dressed, and returned home, it was past tea time. Tony came out of his study when I arrived. "I hope everything went well?"


    He sounded worried by the amount of time I had been gone. How much longer I could keep deceiving him like this? "Very!"


    Pearson began helping me from my coat.


    "With the help of Anastasia''s maids, we got three whole rooms packed. She was quite grateful for my assistance."


    Tony gave a fake smile. "I''m glad." He took my arm and drew me away from Pearson. "Someone''s here to see you."


    "Me? I have no callers scheduled today."


    Tony opened the door of his study. A man wearing a dark brown suit lay on the pale blue sofa. "He was unexpected."


    As we walked in, the man raised his head. He was in his mid-thirties, with a crooked nose, short, light brown hair and pale skin. His face was bruised and his lip was split, but I recognized him at once. "Master Rainbow?"


    He nodded. "Forgive me if I don''t rise. I feel unwell."


    I no longer needed to look for Morton. He had come to me.

 Chapter 2: The Queen of Diamonds - Round 13: The Feds

    I rushed into the room, horrified. "What happened, sir? Who''s done this to you?"


    He gestured for us to sit, so we did. A maid came in, bringing water in a bowl, along with a cloth.


    "Bring tea and a pitcher of water," I said. The maid curtsied and left, closing the door behind her.


    Morton leaned on one elbow, eyes partially shut, and began cleaning his face.


    Tony leaned over to speak in my ear. "Pearson found him on the front porch, unconscious. It was only a few minutes before you arrived. He has just awakened."


    "Has the doctor been called?"


    Tony nodded.


    Morton wore the same dark brown business suit he wore over two weeks ago when we rescued David Bryce. But his suit was rumpled and stained, with his shirt tails out and one pocket torn. His Derby hat was nowhere to be seen. Dark circles lay under his eyes, and his skin had a sallow look.


    The maid returned with a tea tray, accompanied by our day footman Honor, who carried a large pitcher and three glasses on another tray. These were all set before us on the long low table.


    Morton lay his head down on the sofa and closed his eyes. Tony and I looked at each other anxiously. I had many questions but feared pressing Morton until the doctor had seen to him.


    Dr. Salmon, our personal surgeon, came presently, and examined Morton while I stood in the hall. "Pearson," I called down, "we''ll have a guest for dinner."


    I leaned against the railing, weary. Who would attack a gentleman, other than ruffians? I hoped that Frank Pagliacci''s men hadn''t caught up with Morton. If so, he was fortunate to be alive.


    Tony came out. "The doctor says Master Rainbow suffered a recent concussive blow to the head and two minor gunshot wounds a few weeks ago. He has a serious case of exhaustion, and has not eaten properly in two weeks. He may be infirm for several days." He paused. "He should stay here until he recovers."


    The last time I saw him, Morton was bleeding from gunshot wounds sustained in the battle at Jack Diamond''s Party Time factory. That ordeal was unspeakable; I still hadn''t fully recovered. "It would be unimaginable to turn him away."


    Tony gave me a real smile this time. "I hoped you would say so. He has done much to help this Family in our troubles with the Harts. It would seem a shame not to repay him for his kindness."


    What would Tony do if he knew all my meetings with Helen Hart were a lie? "What can I do to help?"


    Before Tony could speak, Dr. Salmon came out. "He''s asking for you both, in the strongest terms."


    While still bruised and beaten, Morton seemed much more alert. "Please, sit," he said. With the injuries to his mouth, he sounded like he did the first day I met him in the Diamond Pot.


    Fortunately, his teeth hadn''t been injured, since he had a beautiful smile. But he wasn''t smiling now. We sat in the chairs across from him, I for one curious as to what had happened.


    He glanced at Tony. "I''m afraid I''ve brought trouble to your home. But I didn''t know where else to go." He stared at the floor. "I''ve been betrayed. The Feds are after me."


    Tony said, "You may stay for as long as you need to. They wouldn''t dare come here, even if they knew you were in my study." He grinned. "They have no friends in this city."


    "They believe I''m guilty of murdering one of their Agents," Morton said. "But I''m not; this Agent still lives, and is the one who put me in this state. I only wish to clear my name."


    Tony leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Do you wish us to contact someone? The Harts, perhaps?"


    Morton shook his head. "They can''t help matters." He paused. "And that''s where everyone thinks I would go. No, I was right to come here." He closed his eyes, leaning upon the back cushion. "I never thought it would come to this."


    Tony and I glanced at each other. Morton sounded so ... lost, as if his life had taken a horrible and unexpected turn. Tony said, "Do you have any family we could call?"


    Morton opened his eyes and looked at me. "No," he said. "None. Not anymore."


    Could Zia have betrayed him to the Feds? Why would she do that? She mentioned Frank Pagliacci as if she knew him well. Too well for my liking. How could I ask without explaining to Tony how I knew Morton''s sister? And how I learned she knew Frank?


    Tony turned to Dr. Salmon. "What instructions have you for us? Should we keep him awake?"


    "He must be watched constantly overnight," the doctor said. "But let him sleep if he will. If he vomits, or his pain worsens, call me at once. I''ll return in the morning. I recommend complete rest for the next week until any pain is gone."


    Morton grimaced. "Is it so serious?"


    "It is," Dr. Salmon said. "Physical or mental exertion of any kind, even reading, can cause a setback."


    Once the doctor left, Morton said, "What''s to become of me? I don''t wish to place a burden on you. You may be in danger if they discover I''m here."


    "Nonsense," Tony said. "We''ll take care of everything. It''s no burden at all."


    And so it was done. Amelia helped me into a house dress "suitable for dealing with illness or injury at home". She knew everything about fashionable and appropriate dress, it seemed. The concept of a special dress for such an occasion amazed me.


    But I felt annoyed by her presence. Why should I have to deal with this woman? "Amelia, I''m sure sometime tonight we''ll be pressed into taking watch over Master Rainbow. When is the best time?" She had too much information on me to dismiss her without cause. If I didn''t keep her close, Tony or Roy would likely assign me someone worse. "Or should I get one of the other maids to play escort tonight?"


    Amelia looked tired. I wondered what she occupied herself with while I was gone. "I''ll speak with my husband."


    I smiled at her dogged persistence to stay by my side. With any luck, she would fall asleep beside me, and I would be able to speak with Master Rainbow undisturbed.


    When we went to Morton''s room for dinner, he was clean, dressed in pajamas, and propped up in bed. He ate slowly due to the injury on his mouth, drank a great deal of water and tea, and said little. "I hope you will excuse my manners. I had little time to eat or drink, and little chance to sleep."


    I wondered what happened to his yacht.


    Finally, Morton leaned back on his pillows and sighed. "You have saved my life," he said. "I''m forever in your debt."


    Tony smiled. "Happy to help. Now rest. My butler''s preparing a rotation of men to wait on you overnight."


    Morton glanced around in alarm. "Strangers?"


    "They''re my most trusted men," Tony said. "But I can have them come in for introduction, so you recognize their faces."


    Morton relaxed. "That would be most appreciated." He shook his head. "I''m sorry; after all your generosity, I must seem presumptuous, even paranoiac. But I''ve been betrayed so often these past weeks ¡ª"


    Tony nodded, his face grave. "I understand." He reached beside Morton''s bed and rang for a servant.


    Honor entered, collecting our plates. "This is our day footman, Skip Honor," I said. "I trust him with my life."


    Morton nodded. "A pleasure to meet you, sir." Which was odd; surely a quadrant gentleman would know how to address a servant properly.


    Honor gave a slight smile. "You''re much too kind." He put the plates on a tray, moved the bed tray to the window seat, opened the door, then turned to Tony. "Will there be anything else, sir?"


    I said, "Mr. Spadros, I''ll stay with Master Rainbow for now, if it please you. Perhaps Amelia might be summoned?" I paused. "I''m not fatigued, and then you may collect your men and instruct them at your leisure."


    Tony nodded. "Honor, get Blitz up if he''s not already, ask Pearson to see what men are available, and tell Amelia to attend us at once." Blitz Spadros was another of Tony''s cousins, our night footman. He seldom slept, so he would be an asset tonight. "Have the men assemble in my study."


    "Yes, sir." Honor took the tray and left, leaving the door open.


    If Honor did those things in the order Tony put them, it might be a while before Amelia arrived. Tony would be distracted, not wishing to leave until she got here, yet wanting to have things settled. As I thought, Tony began glancing at the open door every few seconds, then got up and began to pace.


    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    "I met a mutual friend today," I said, then stopped. How was it that Zia and Anastasia both knew Frank Pagliacci?


    Morton raised his head slowly. "Oh?"


    Tony glanced briefly in our direction and kept pacing.


    "Yes," I waited until Tony faced away from us. "Zia ..."


    At her name, Morton flinched, as I thought he might, but since Tony faced away, he didn''t notice. "I don''t remember her last name. What was it?"


    "Cashout," Morton said. "How is she?"


    Perhaps she wasn''t his sister after all. "She seemed well enough. We had a bit of a chat before she had to run."


    Morton chuckled, wincing a bit. "I''m sorry you two couldn''t chat longer. Perhaps she might''ve been able to enlighten you as to my circumstances."


    Tony went into the hall, leaving the door wide open, and looked over the railing. Then he came back in. "I''ll return shortly." He strode into the hallway and called out, "Where''s Amelia?"


    Pearson''s voice came from downstairs and below us; he was in the entryway, by the sound of it. "I''ll fetch her at once, sir."


    I turned to Morton. "Why did you lie to me? Zia can hear and speak as well as I can."


    "She insisted on it. She felt sign language would be a way to talk without you understanding what we said, in case you were false." He paused. "I suppose she was the false one."


    Indeed. "What happened?"


    He glanced at the open doorway. "I returned to the boat; she and my carriage were gone. I searched for her, but I began to weaken, so I cleaned my wounds and rested until nightfall. I intended to search for her again, but Diamond guards came and I fled on my yacht. Since then, I have moved from one berth to another. The first night, the Feds demanded to know why I attacked their Agent. When I denied it, we fought. I threw them overboard. The next day, they asked if I had killed their Agent, as they received no word since their last communication.


    "They and Frank Pagliacci''s men have attacked me at every turn, claiming I murdered their own. Last night, after being awake over two days straight, I found myself floating among the wreckage of my yacht. My head hurt, and I felt nauseated and dizzy, but I managed to climb on some boards. The current took me then and I made it to the better parts of Spadros overnight.


    In the freezing water? "You''re fortunate to be alive."


    He stared at his hands. "My yacht was beautiful. And Zia betrayed me." He paused. "She introduced me to Frank Pagliacci. I trusted her." He gazed out of the window to his right. "Perhaps I shouldn''t have. My only hope is that they think I''m dead."


    Amelia ran in, her youngest daughter asleep in her arms, and curtsied. "My apologies, mum, sir. My little one is ill, and ¡ª"


    "Master Rainbow, my lady''s maid Amelia Dewey."


    He smiled. "A pleasure, mum."


    Amelia blushed all the way to her hairline. "I''m honored, sir." She curtsied again, then sat, obviously uncomfortable with his greeting her as an equal.


    "Master Rainbow has suffered a serious concussive blow to his head, Amelia. We''re to watch for any sign that his condition worsens." I turned to him. "But you seem to be feeling improved."


    "Good food and drink has helped. And a bath, and rest."


    Amelia rocked her six year old daughter. The girl''s dark brown hair was plastered to her face with sweat, and her cheeks were flushed.


    I remembered Air''s brother Herbert at that age. The same dark brown hair and pale skin.


    Both Air and Herbert, dead now, because of me.


    "What''s wrong with your wee lass?" Morton said.


    "A fever," said Amelia.


    He closed his eyes, leaning his head back on his pillows. He didn''t speak for so long, I thought he''d fallen asleep. "I got the fever when visiting at me uncle Johnny''s. ''Get the meadowsweet tea'' he yelled at Ma, and she put mint in it too." He sighed. "I love the taste of mint."


    We sat silently for some time. Finally I heard the men moving about downstairs, and Tony came up with Honor and Blitz. "I''ve set up a rotation," Tony said, "such that someone he''s met will be here at all times, with a new person rotating in every hour." He glanced at the flushed and sleeping child in Amelia''s arms. "That will be all, Amelia, you may put her to bed now."


    "Thank you, sir," she said, and left.


    We left Honor and Blitz there with him and went to bed. There at the end, Morton''s accent sounded very much like Zia''s. Were they both outsiders? What were they doing in Bridges?


    ***


    Morton slept through the night, and even through breakfast. Dr. Salmon came to see him after that and examined him. "The man has a serious case of exhaustion, and rest will do him well."


    We stood in the hallway outside Morton''s room. Honor came up the stairs. "I can sit with him if need be while you go to morning meeting."


    "Mrs. Spadros," Tony said, "would you conduct the meeting?"


    So I did. There was little to say. The whole staff had been involved in arrangements for yet another ill guest in less than a month''s time. "It''s imperative you notify myself or Mr. Spadros if anyone you don''t know comes here, even a new delivery man or messenger boy. And speak about our guest to no one, even if you''ve known them since birth. The Feds are after him."


    The staff looked at each other in alarm.


    "As long as they don''t know he''s here, we''re quite safe." Even if they did; according to our Inventor, this manor house, which used to be a scientific station, could withstand a bomb blast. "But we depend on you to watch for any spies."


    Afterwards, Pearson spoke to me privately. "Do you think it wise to tell the servants of the Feds?"


    "They must be aware of the danger," I said. "or they won''t know what to do and what not to." I learned that quite well this past week. "Let them speak freely of their fears. Don''t allow them to send messages, even to merchants. If any seem fearful or troubled, or too calm, remind them they would not wish to invoke the wrath of our Family by betraying our trust. Then take them off any duty which would bring them into contact with visitors."


    Pearson gave me a look as if he evaluated me and was pleased with what he saw. "Very good, mum."


    "Ask Mary to bring some mint tea for Master Rainbow."


    I went up to Morton''s room. Tony and Sawbuck sat beside him. Morton was awake, propped up on pillows as before. I knocked softly on the open door. Morton smiled when he saw me.


    Tony glanced back at me and smiled as well. "Come in. As you can see, Master Rainbow is improved today. I wished for Master Hogan here to meet Master Rainbow, as we have need to plan what to do." Tony reached out for me and I took his hand. "I''m glad you''re here. Close the door."


    So I did, and took a seat near the foot of Morton''s bed. "I told the staff of the Feds."


    Tony and Sawbuck gave each other a quick glance.


    "I felt it best that they understand the danger we face so they make no wrong move or become complacent with messengers or guests. Also, I told Pearson to watch for any who seem too afraid or troubled, and move them to duties where they can send no messages to any visitors."


    Sawbuck nodded. "That seems wise."


    Tony nodded as well, his face devoid of expression. I could tell he felt uneasy. I learned to read him long ago; it seemed difficult for him to hide his emotions from me.


    Morton glanced from me to Tony. "It seems a good plan."


    Tony rose. "Mrs. Spadros, may I speak with you privately?"


    "Why, of course," I said, and out we went.


    Once the door closed, Tony whispered, "I did not mean for you to speak your plans to the staff, or to Master Rainbow."


    "Tony, if we can''t trust the staff, who can we trust?"


    He shook his head. "I trust you, and I trust Ten. No one else. I don''t believe Crab and Duck were the only spies in this house; I have evidence that some of our servants report to my father on a regular basis."


    A shock went through me at that, although looking back, it shouldn''t have surprised me.


    "And I find it much too convenient, Master Rainbow appearing the first time he did, in the midst of our turmoil. I don''t think he is who he says he is."


    I nodded. "Although it would be unusual to inflict oneself with injury simply to gain admittance."


    Tony chuckled. "Indeed it would be. No, I believe someone is chasing him, and his injuries are evident. What I doubt is that the Clubbs would allow Federal Agents into the city so easily. And what better way to gain entry to our house than to claim estrangement from the Harts and escape from the Feds? The animosity between my father and Charles Hart is plain for all to see, and no Family would fail to shelter a man so pursued." He sighed. "What''s done is done. But, my love," he put his hand on my cheek, "you''re at your best when you watch, and when you reason. Don''t hasten to speak, or to act, until you''ve thought the matter through."


    I put my hand on his and nodded, feeling disappointed with myself. Mary Pearson, our butler''s daughter, came up the stair with a breakfast tray. She was nineteen and pretty, with straight light brown hair. Tony opened the door, and we went inside. I fetched the bed-tray for Mary to put Morton''s plate and cup upon.


    "That smells delicious," Morton said. "I feel famished."


    "As well you should," I said, "for it''s almost eleven."


    Mary put her tray on a side table then brought over Morton''s plate and silverware.


    Morton glanced up at us. "I hope you won''t mind if I begin."


    Tony smiled. "Of course not."


    So Morton began eating while Mary poured his tea. At the first sip, his face lit with happy astonishment. "Mint tea!" Morton said. "My favorite. How did you know?"


    "You told us last night," I said. "But you were quite fatigued; you may have forgotten."


    He nodded. "Yes," he said with his mouth full, "I was."


    What did Morton tell the men? He could have said anything and might have no recollection of it.


    Mary said, "Will there be anything else, sir?"


    "No," Tony said. "I''ll ring if there is."


    Mary curtsied and left, closing the door behind her.


    Sawbuck took a deep breath and let it out. "The men are watching for any attack. They''re quite motivated to do so."


    This didn''t surprise me. Between their compatriots being killed and kidnapped and an assault on a shipment, it was clear Frank Pagliacci and his false Red Dog Gang were trying to make inroads into our territory. No Family man would stand for it.


    "Miss Josephine Kerr left her card earlier," Sawbuck said. "Pearson told her you weren''t at home."


    I said, "Any particular reason you mention this?"


    Sawbuck looked uneasy. "I''m alert to anything unusual. She didn''t attend the dinner due to having to care for her brother, yet finds time to come here, today of all days."


    "She probably fears causing offense," Tony said. "Miss Kerr and Mrs. Spadros were childhood friends, yet I imagine our favor is quite helpful to them from a social aspect."


    Morton continued to eat as if we were not there. Doubtless he knew nothing of Josie, although it was odd that the Kerr name brought no curiosity as to our association with them. Although if he worked for the Harts, as he said, perhaps he already knew of it.


    The Kerr family built the city of Bridges, ruling it father to son for 400 years until overthrown 100 years ago in the Coup which we were about to celebrate. Most people in Bridges associated the Kerr name with decadence, greed, and descent into squalor as just reward for their crimes. Few realized Polansky Kerr IV lived in the Hart quadrant, although his grandchildren seemed welcome among the unmarried gentlemen and debutantes. Joe and Josie were even invited to the Grand Ball this year, although not even the Golden Bridges made note of it.


    I sat watching Sawbuck, Tony, and Morton. If we were to plan, we should do so. If we were not to plan here in front of Morton, should we not go elsewhere?


    Ah. Tony and Sawbuck must have planned to each present a topic related to the events since the attack on New Year''s Day to see what Morton knew.


    Tony smiled at me. "Has Madame Biltcliffe learned anything more of who broke into her shop?"


    Morton had a puzzled expression, as if unable to connect what this had to do with his predicament.


    "No," I said, "but I haven''t had a chance to visit her of late."


    Morton knew Frank Pagliacci. When Tony learned this, he would become even more suspicious and ask Morton all sorts of questions. I couldn''t take the chance that in Morton''s injured state, my involvement in this might come out. I caught Morton''s eye and pretended to yawn, covering my mouth with my right hand then bringing it up as if to smooth my hair. As I moved my hand past my face so it blocked the view of the other two men, I winked at Morton, who smiled.


    "I see yesterday''s events have fatigued you as well," Morton said, his eyes drooping. "I wonder if we might have this conversation another time."


    "Of course," Tony said. He and Sawbuck rose.


    "Oh," Morton said. "Is someone tending to my shoes? They were quite expensive."


    Tony smiled, a flash of amusement crossing his eyes. "My manservant has taken care of them. They''re under your bed."


    Morton let out a breath, relieved. "Thank you."


    I moved Morton''s bed-tray to the window seat then followed the two men out of the room. Morton turned to lie down as I left.


    Tony closed the door. "Let''s go to my study. Pearson can send one of his sons to check on him later."


    When we got to the study, Tony gestured for me and Sawbuck to sit in the chairs across from his desk, while he sat behind it. It was an interesting arrangement.


    Tony said, "What do you wish to tell us?"


    I felt confused. "I?"


    "I fail to see how you''re so fatigued at eleven in the morning as to yawn in front of a guest. Therefore, I presume you have something to discuss that you wish Master Rainbow not to hear. Or have you forgotten your manners entirely?"


    I paused to find some topic suitable to distract Tony from this line of discussion. "I feel concerned with this tactic of yours. While bringing up topics relevant to the past month may shed light on Master Rainbow''s knowledge, it may reveal too much to someone we know little about."


    Tony snorted, yet I felt surprise and admiration in his demeanor. "I told you she would see through it. Did I not?"


    Sawbuck chuckled. "You did." He reached in his pocket and handed a five to Tony.


    I gaped at them. "You wagered on me?" I burst out laughing. The audacity of this man!


    Tony leaned back, grinning. "So what do you suggest?"


    A fair question; it took a moment to concoct an answer. "Master Rainbow has confided in me in the past. I believe he may even have some regard for me. Allow me to speak with him on whatever subject you wish. You may pose the questions, I''ll relay them. In his unguarded condition, he may let something slip."


    Sawbuck''s eyes narrowed. "There''s a danger to this."


    Did Sawbuck suspect me? "Well, yes. If I were you, I would have a man standing outside, in case I should scream. Perhaps two. Although Master Rainbow isn''t much taller than I, wrapped in his bed, and in a weakened state." If I seemed too eager, Tony wouldn''t do it. "Perhaps it''s a bad idea ¡ª"


    Tony grinned, rubbing his hands together. "No, it''s perfect. We can listen at the door. He''ll never suspect you."


    I felt sad. I would never betray Tony, but I couldn''t let Morton betray me, even unintentionally. "Then I suppose we should get started on the questions."

 Chapter 2: The Queen of Diamonds - Round 14: The Deception

    After an hour of conferring with Tony and Sawbuck, I felt tired of sitting, so I took a brief walk and a smoke in the garden. Tony''s men stood guard at intervals in the distance where the land rose to give them a better view. The ones closer by tipped their hats when I came outside. Bells chimed in the distance, marking noon, yet the sun barely shone for the clouds that covered it.


    Sawbuck seemed to suspect everyone. I recalled our ride to the Kerr''s home on New Year''s Day, when Tony spoke of his older brother, the true Spadros heir, poisoned when Tony was two years old ...


    "From the first time Ten learned about my brother, oh, I was two or three so he must have been eight, or perhaps nine. When he heard of it, he said he would watch over me, that he would never let anyone hurt me. He has kept his word."


    Twenty years the man had watched over Tony. What might he do if he considered me a threat?


    When I went back inside, Tony met me in the hall. He handed me the questions, which I placed in my pocket.


    Pearson walked up to us. "Your mail is on your desks."


    "Thank you, Pearson." I turned to Tony and took his arm as we strolled towards his study. "Since you''ll be gone tomorrow, perhaps I''ll go pick out my Summer gown."


    Tony laughed. "I have yet to see your Spring gown, which I paid a great deal for."


    "Surely, it''s on display by now. You never go into town, or you would''ve seen it. It''s most lovely." I gazed up at him with my best smile (Ma taught me that one) and he smiled back, his pupils wide, his cheeks reddening.


    Flirting with Tony was a risk; he would want me for my wife duties tonight. But it was worth it. I needed an excuse to go to Madame''s. Then I could go to Market Center and see what Thrace Pike recovered from Anastasia''s debtors. She''d be leaving town soon, and I wanted to have something to give her.


    "Oh, very well," he said. "Go have your fun. Perhaps after we visit the Kerrs we can drive past and see this wonder."


    "Thank you." I went to kiss his cheek, but he turned, kissing me full on the lips there in the hallway, his hand upon my back, pulling me to him.


    Oh, my. Where did this come from?


    When Tony spoke, his voice was earnest and strained. "When you go to Master Rainbow''s room after luncheon, I wish you to remember this."


    Was he jealous? "Have no fears about Master Rainbow; I don''t find him attractive. But it''s rather sweet of you to say such things."


    Tony drew me into his study, then closed and locked the door. "I love you so much." He kissed me as I leaned on the door. He had never done this before ... in daylight, in his study ... I found it interesting.


    After a time contemplating the matter I pictured Joe there, and the whole scenario changed: that soft brown hair, those beautiful green eyes. I kissed Joe, feeling his hard body pressing so perfectly against mine. "Ohh," I said to Joe, "how I love you."


    With a shock, I realized I came too close to saying Joe''s name, and the thought of what might happen if I did terrified me.


    Tony picked me up then and brought me to the sofa. But the spell had been broken; I couldn''t find Joe again in the awkward position and Tony''s desperate passion.


    I almost wept, I missed him so.


    Finally, Tony buried his face between my breasts as he cried out, and collapsed atop me, panting. Then he laughed. "I always wanted to do that."


    I turned my head, gazing at the room. This used to be his father Roy''s home, his study, his sofa. Every piece of furniture, every minute here must have added meaning to Tony, reminders of deeds and emotion.


    Tony had spoken of leaving Bridges, making the Business "worthy of respect." In his eyes I had seen his agony at doing the things expected of him as the Spadros heir. Heard the love for Gardena in his voice. At times, he might feel as trapped as I did.


    I held him to my chest and smoothed his hair, feeling deep compassion for him. I loved Tony as I might a brother. A beloved younger brother. But it was getting harder and harder each day to pretend I desired him. I forced my breathing steady as grief squeezed my heart. What could I do?


    ***


    Later, I went to my study to tell Mr. Pike and Madame Biltcliffe of our meetings. I wondered how to send the letter to Mr. Pike, who wouldn''t be apt to hide the correspondence. I couldn''t send it as Mrs. Jacqueline Spadros; if the note should appear later it could be used in all sorts of unsavory ways. I decided to continue to use my false name Eunice Ogier. That way, if Mr. Pike did lose the note, it couldn''t be traced to me.


    On my desk lay a letter:


    Miss Gardena Diamond presents her compliments to Mrs. Jacqueline Spadros, and hopes to have the pleasure of her company for luncheon at the Diamond Women''s Club on the Twenty-First of February, 1899.


    RSVP


    I didn''t know how to feel about going to the Diamond Women''s Club. I understood why Gardena wanted to meet there: it was the only way for her to return my dinner invitation. I would never accept an invitation to her home because her older brother (the mad and murderous Jack Diamond) would be there. I feared for my safety near him. Of course, his twin brother Jonathan would likely be there as well, if for nothing but my protection. Even so, Tony would never allow it even if I wished to go.


    But their Women''s Club should be safe enough; men were never allowed inside, or even permitted to loiter outside. The guards at each of the Clubs were there to enforce this.


    Although I would like to meet Gardena for luncheon, I wasn''t sure what we would talk about. That my husband seemed to be in love with her? That she struck him in his own home?


    But I needed to know what all this was about.


    I went back to Tony''s study, and he sat at his desk reading his mail. He gave a warm smile and came to me. He had changed his clothes and righted his hair. I wondered what his manservant Jacob Michaels thought, seeing Tony appear in his rooms before luncheon in such disarray.


    Probably the same thing Amelia said when she helped me change and redo my hair. "Oh, to be young and in love."


    I handed Tony the note. "Gardena wants me to come to luncheon in Diamond. At the Women''s Club."


    He set it aside, then took my face in his hands, kissing me. "Then, my love, you shall go."


    I felt relieved that he didn''t protest or show fear of what she might say. In spite of his words about her instability or hidden motives or spirited nature, in spite of her slapping him and calling him a coward, he trusted her. He accepted her words, because he trusted her judgment. In his heart, he knew it to be true.


    But it wasn''t true; he''d never shrunk from any duty, no matter how painful he found it.


    I thought back to what he said about Gardena the night of the dinner. Why would he say such things about someone he loved and trusted?


    Then, he was trying to distract me, or divert some blame from himself. And today, he wanted to make me happy.


    I considered his nightmares, his sleepless nights. He loved us both, and it tormented him. It was tearing him apart.


    I put my arms around him and lay my face on his chest. The only feeling I could pick out was sadness.


    ***


    After luncheon, I went to Morton''s room, Tony and Sawbuck following at a distance.


    Morton sat in an arm chair by a small table near the window, his back to the corner of the room. Today, he wore a white shirt, brown cotton pants, and dark brown slippers. "Forgive me if I don''t rise; I become dizzy when I do."


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    I went to him, offering my hand, which he kissed. "There''s nothing to forgive." In my palm was a note, which I passed to him, then sat in an arm chair at the other corner of the window, close enough for conversation yet out of arm''s reach. This way, if anyone should come in, it would be clear we sat separate.


    I had written the note earlier, and secreted it in my sleeve:


    My husband and cousin listen. FP is alive.


    He stared at the note, then at me, alarmed.


    I nodded. "I''m glad to see you''re well enough to sit here."


    Morton began ripping the small paper into bits. "This is the most difficult part of recovery. I''m well enough to sit up but allowed little to do." He collected the pieces into his hand. "Would you bring me a glass of water?"


    I rose. "Certainly!" I brought it to him, and resumed my seat.


    He swallowed the torn pieces then washed them down with the water.


    I felt touched by his trust; poison on the paper would have solved any problem of what he might say. Either he was very trusting, very foolish, or very brave. "Perhaps I can read to you sometime, since you''re not yet allowed that pleasure."


    "That would be diverting." He paused. "I hope you and your family are well?"


    "Yes, indeed."


    He sat for a few seconds. "Well, we can talk about the gloom outdoors, the price the miracle gems go for this afternoon, or the various types of tea. Or you can ask your questions."


    What was he doing? "Whatever do you mean?"


    "Madam, I may be injured, but I''m not a fool. You''ve been escorted and watched most closely since I first met you. Do you now expect me to believe you''re here in my bedchamber for conversation? Or my attractive charms? I''m not so deluded." He let out a short laugh, but it was a merry one. "Or to read me stories like a child? No, you were sent here to learn something. I have nothing to hide. Ask what you will."


    I stared at him, astonished, then realized he was right. If he went along too easily it would be suspect. "Very well ... have you met a man named Frank Pagliacci?"


    His expression moved from astonishment through fear to understanding. Then he said, "The name seems familiar. I''ve heard it before. It''s an odd name, to be sure."


    "What of a group called the Red Dog Gang?"


    "Is this one of those slum gangs? Of children? How would I know of that?" He chuckled. "I wasn''t raised in such ways."


    "Tell me more of yourself, then, of your upbringing."


    He smiled, relaxing. "My parents were immigrants; they moved shortly after marrying. But quite well-off; I had a tutor, and while my home wasn''t as grand as this one, we had a butler and maids and all the trappings of refined living. My parents died of fever when I was twenty, and as the only child, I inherited. I have been a gentleman ever since, living on their estate."


    "And where is your estate?"


    "Ah, I spoke of it in a general sense. The properties were sold long ago. I was unmarried and without desire to be responsible for their upkeep. I live off the interest income, downtown in the artists'' area. I enjoy life there; I have a maid who keeps house, and I come and go as I please."


    The address he gave was indeed in the artists'' area of Hart, although there was no such building. The rest of the story could be total fabrication. Something about his mannerisms made it difficult for me to tell when he lied and when he spoke true. Perhaps his parents being outsiders had something to do with it.


    "You said Frank Pagliacci''s name sounded familiar. Can you remember where you heard it?"


    He let out a breath, glancing away. "I was in a restaurant. Someone mentioned the name. I don''t recall exactly."


    A knock came at the door, and Tony entered without waiting for an answer. "Master Rainbow! How are you?"


    Morton gave him an amused smile. "I''m well. Did you enjoy our conversation?"


    Tony stared at him.


    "As I said to Mrs. Spadros, sir, I''m no fool. If I had such a lovely wife, I wouldn''t allow her in here alone unless I stood by."


    Tony burst out laughing, extending his hand. "I like you, Rainbow." He pulled up a chair and sat facing us both. "We could use a man like you here. Most of my men are young, and have little experience of life."


    Most of Tony''s men were older than he was. I found it interesting that Tony would make such an offer. I wondered what Sawbuck (who surely was still listening at the door) thought of it.


    Morton said, "I thank you for your kindness, sir. But I would hardly know where to begin in such a Business, even if I weren''t in the employ of the Harts."


    "What do you do for them, then?"


    "Ah, at present I''m little more than a messenger. I''ve worked as an investigator in the past, simply from boredom, and at times I retrieve information for them. We have no contract, and I''ve sworn no oath, if that''s what you''re asking." He smiled, but it was unpleasant. "And I''m not an enforcer."


    That reminded me of what my friend Vig said a few weeks ago, although with much more anger. I hoped Vig was well; while he sent me a note after our argument that night, I hadn''t seen the man or been to his saloon since.


    Tony seemed taken aback. "Well, of course, I wouldn''t expect a gentleman such as yourself to be one." His expression became calculating. "But it would be interesting to have a friend in Hart."


    He evidently didn''t consider the Kerrs friends, then, despite his words.


    Morton chuckled. "A spy, sir? I''ve never done such work." He glanced at me. "It would hardly be honorable."


    I almost laughed. It echoed my words to Morton in the Diamond Party Time factory''s basement when he tricked Frank Pagliacci''s guard into helping us then shot the man. Morton''s reply? "Fuck honor."


    And he knew I would recall that. But at the time, a little boy''s life was at stake. And it occurred to me that we held Morton''s life just as surely as I held David''s that day. Morton could barely stand. "Perhaps we could come to some agreement that Master Rainbow would find suitable." I said. "Since he''s sworn no oath."


    ***


    We decided Morton was doing well enough that we would be "at home" from now on. The next morning, Pearson came to my study telling me Miss Josephine Kerr had come to call.


    Which was odd. She visited the day before. Why this urgent desire to see me after our heated conversation a few days ago? I began to wonder if something was wrong. Had Joe taken a turn for the worse? "Seat her in the parlor."


    Tony had advised me to think when having the urge to act. After Pearson closed the door, I sat and thought, heart pounding. I wanted to rush in, grab Josie, and shake her until she told me Joe was safe and well.


    But Sawbuck didn''t trust her.


    I remembered Tony''s words: I trust Ten, and I trust you.


    Who did I trust?


    The moment of panic passed. I didn''t have enough information. I needed to determine exactly how much to tell her about what went on when I told people I was with Helen Hart.


    I took a deep breath, stood up, and went to the parlor.


    Josie rose when I entered. She seemed perfectly composed, which made me feel much better.


    "I hope all is well?"


    Josie gave me a amused smile. "Yes, all is well. As well as can be expected, I suppose, under the circumstances."


    I gestured to the sofa. "Please, sit. Would you like some tea?"


    "No, thank you."


    I sat across from her. "Is your grandfather well?"


    "Perfectly well, thank you." She paused. "And before you ask, so is Joe."


    "Am I so transparent?"


    She chuckled. "A bit." Her face softened into fondness. "And I love you for it."


    I felt humbled by her trust in me, which I wasn''t sure I deserved. I spoke quietly. "I''m sorry for any harm or worry or concern I''ve caused you. I forget how you must have suffered during the past six years."


    Josie nodded, her face grave.


    "I know how this looks. I''m a married woman, and your brother''s terribly injured. Yet when he spoke unbecoming words instead of being a friend to him, I allowed him to shame himself. I can only pray he remembers none of our conversation."


    Josie said nothing.


    "I let my feelings for him cloud my judgment. I have no desire to prolong his pain by letting him believe there''s any future for us together. I belong to the Spadros Family, and if they knew any of this they would kill him." My stomach knotted. "I fear it would be neither gentle nor quick."


    Josie nodded, gazing at the table.


    "I know what you must think of me. Lying to everyone about where I''ve been. Using your friend''s name as she lay bereft and in agony, while I did, in your eyes, things I should not. But ¡ª "


    Could I trust Josie? I''d known her all my life. The way she''d been acting lately was strange ¡ª flying into rages, especially ¡ª but Joe had never been so badly hurt before. She must be under tremendous strain.


    Joe trusted her with his life. And I trusted Joe.


    "I need to explain what happened since they took me away."


    I sat beside her. In whispers I told her how I was grabbed by strangers at random times from the age of twelve. They dragged me to Spadros Manor, where I was stripped, beaten, and forced to learn the Spadros Family Business. I revealed how Roy forced me to marry Tony at gunpoint. I told her about my investigation business: how it began, why I did it, how I developed my network of informants, how I kept it secret. Then I told her about Eleanora''s request, and my work with Morton to rescue David.


    I never used Morton''s real name. It wasn''t that I didn''t trust her, but the fewer people who knew about Blaze Rainbow, the better. I couldn''t involve the Kerrs in any conspiracy involving the Feds. While they were under the Harts'' protection, it would be unfair to put them at risk. "So it was out of ignorance I used that story. I trusted the man, and I should not have. I hope you can forgive me."


    Josie relaxed. "I do. I too am sorry for not trusting you. So much time has passed, and people can change in ways you would not believe."


    We sat silently for several minutes. Morton''s room was above us, and his bed creaked as he moved.


    Josie stirred. "Joe keeps asking for you."


    So this was why she came. I shook my head. "I don''t think it wise to visit alone. It would be best if I kept my distance until he''s completely well. And I ... I dread seeing Marja again. I did nothing to cause her daughter''s death, and I know she doesn''t blame me ... but I feel responsible." Grief twisted my heart, and my eyes stung. "I brought Ottilie here, and now she''s dead."


    "Don''t worry about that. Marja''s no longer working for us."


    I felt horrified. "Is she ¡ª?"


    Josie stared at me, appalled. "Of course not! She works for my uncle now. My grandfather may be many things, but he''s not Anthony Spadros."


    I felt offended at the comparison, but she had a point. The Spadros Family''s way of dealing with problem people was not to move them but to eliminate them altogether. In that sense, Tony was very much like his father.


    But then I felt surprised. "I never knew you had an uncle."


    Josie smiled. "I never knew either. He changed his name to avoid the unpleasantness of being a Kerr. But he''s a kind and honorable man."


    The door upstairs opened and closed. I heard a murmur of talk, but not what was said.


    "You have company?"


    "Yes, my husband''s friend is visiting."


    Whatever they spoke of must have been amusing, because Morton laughed. He had a rather distinctive laugh.


    Josie glanced at the clock on the mantel and rose. "I must go; the doctor arrives soon. I promised Grampa I would take down the doctor''s instructions. Joe has trouble remembering details."


    I walked her out to the front porch. "I''ll speak to my husband again about visiting. Has he come by yet? He said he meant to."


    Josie shook her head.


    I patted her arm. "Don''t fret. You''ve lost none of our esteem." I took her arm, and we strolled to her waiting carriage. "We''re renovating the casino, and it''s taken a great deal of his time. He asks about Joe and his welfare."


    "That''s good to know." She climbed into the carriage. "Come visit soon."


    Should I go? It seemed safe enough. No harm could come with Tony there; if Joe were to act in an unseemly manner, we could simply leave. "Yes, we''ll be by shortly. I''ll send a message as soon as I know the date." I waved to her as she left.


    As I stood watching her carriage drive away down the street and disappear into traffic, a great swell of gratitude brought tears to my eyes. Joe was well. Not healed by any means, but safe. Oh, gods, he was safe. And Josie and I were still friends.


    At the time, that was all that mattered.

 Chapter 2: The Queen of Diamonds - Round 15: The Idea

    I went into my study, lit myself a cigarette, and poured a glass of bourbon to celebrate. But then I remembered Frank Pagliacci and Jack Diamond, and a weight fell upon my soul. How might I deduce their plans?


    Anastasia, Morton, and Zia all knew Frank Pagliacci, and quite well, it seemed. Yet none of them mentioned Jack Diamond.


    Did Frank Pagliacci keep his involvement with Jack a secret from them? If Frank wanted to make himself appear more imposing, claiming allegiance with a Family member would be the method of choice.


    Unless ...


    I thought about how Pagliacci boasted that afternoon in the factory. Could he fancy himself greater than a Diamond heir? This could cause conflict, which might lead to their downfall. Or, if the man truly craved attention above all things, cause him to make a mistake which I might exploit.


    But I felt as if I missed something. The last time I felt this way it cost two boys their lives and a third his sanity. I couldn''t take the risk of missing something again. I took out a sheet of paper and began to write:


    Item One: Red Dogs break into Madame''s Shop


    Item Two: False Notes ¡ª possibly false Invoices


    Item Three: Spies in brown (Duck & Crab)


    Item Four: Kidnapping and murder


    Item Five: Attack on Tony


    Item Six: Impersonating a DA ¡ª false Office


    Item Seven: Whipping a Horse


    Item Eight: Boat explosion


    I stared at this list, trying to see some pattern in it. After a time, I added:


    Item Nine: Impersonating the Red Dog Gang


    I perceived two patterns. First, deception. False notes, false invoices, and impersonations, all surrounding a "very good-looking" man. Second, violence. Attack, kidnapping, murder, whipping a horse, explosion, and whatever happened to Crab and Duck which affected Tony so. And whatever they did to little David Bryce.


    Deception and violence. Frank and Jack. It made sense. But I had never heard of Jack being involved with something like this before. Whipping horses? Exploding boats? Strangling boys?


    I leaned back, eyes closed. Something didn''t seem right.


    I recalled my feeling that the kidnappings, murders, and attacks were distractions to keep us ¡ª or more to the point, me ¡ª from investigating the break-in at Madame''s shop, which yielded the materials for the false notes and invoices.


    So what were the false notes and invoices for? Sowing discord, yes, they tried that. Using our money to finance their schemes: both devious and insulting. But once Tony''s accountant reviewed the ledgers, we should have some idea of what they planned. What else might they do? There must be more. The plans seemed too simple, the distractions too great.


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    And the boat explosion. What did it mean?


    I finished my glass and poured another. Morton and Zia could identify Frank Pagliacci. They were both in danger.


    Morton was safe as long as he stayed here, surrounded by our men. Zia seemed unlikely to take any warning I cared to give, even if I wanted to try to find her. At that moment, she was probably telling Frank I knifed her. I recalled the dark stain on the sandy cobblestones in that alley.


    At the time, I hoped she wasn''t hurt too badly.


    If the boat explosion was an attempt to silence Morton, it made no sense for Jack to have done it. He seemed not to care at all who knew of his crimes. As a Diamond heir and Keeper of the Prison, he had the full might of the Bridges justice system behind him. Why go to the trouble of killing someone in such a dramatic yet inefficient way? A knife to the throat was more Jack''s style, and much more certain of success.


    And I didn''t like Morton''s idea that the Feds might have been behind the bombing. Although most people in Bridges hated and feared the Feds, this wasn''t their style at all. While they might track a person down, it would be to bring them to Hub to stand trial, not to murder them in their sleep.


    So that left Frank.


    An idea occurred to me so forcefully that I rose from my chair: a distraction was a side bet, not the main play.


    Frank Pagliacci was assigned the distraction.


    Jack Diamond wasn''t sane enough for long enough to create this plot, nor to execute it.


    Someone else was in charge here.


    I paced the room for an hour trying to think of who might be in charge. This new man must be someone I hadn''t heard of yet. Who might have enough influence over Jack Diamond to reliably control him? It was clear from the events at the Grand Ball that he didn''t even listen to his own father.


    I sighed and rang for Pearson.


    He came in at once. "Yes, mum?"


    "Would you see if the Inventor is available to come here and speak with me?"


    "I''ll inquire, mum." He closed the door behind him.


    After a quarter hour, Pearson announced Inventor Maxim Call''s arrival.


    Inventor Call was wiry and brown, with thinning white hair and piercing blue eyes. "Well, girl, I''m here. What do you want?"


    I curtsied. "Sir, I wished to speak to you on the matter we discussed at our last meeting."


    He frowned. "Young lady, I''m old. I don''t remember what I ate for dinner last night, much less a discussion we had for a few minutes last month."


    Really. "The Magma Steam Generator? Under the house?"


    "Oh! Yes! Now I remember. Your husband gave me a fierce dressing-down about my bringing you there, until I told him if he wanted me to stay he''d better show some manners. Used to be a good quiet studious boy," he shook his head.


    I chuckled, imagining the scene.


    "Well, what did you have me dragged up here for?"


    I hesitated. How did Anna put it? "If there is a way to cleanse the Generator and restore the pilings, and it was done on a routine basis for 400 years, there should be some mechanism in place. The mechanism surely has controls to it, which should be nearby. If those might be found ¡ª"


    "Then all we need to do is learn how to use them."


    I felt deflated. "You''ve thought of this already."


    "Indeed we did! We searched the place years ago, never found a thing." He studied me. "But it was a good thought."


    "I can''t take credit. I asked a friend for advice, and she gave me this answer."


    "Really? I''d like to meet this woman."


    "Her name''s Anna Goren; she''s ¡ª"


    Maxim Call held up a hand. "I know who Anna is." He stood silent for a moment. "I asked Anna to marry me once. She was the most talented woman I ever met. Beautiful as well. Anna could have become an Inventor, but she couldn''t stand anyone to direct her work, or limit her in any way." He paused. "How is she?"


    "Very well. She has an apothecary shop on Market Center, which supplies half of Bridges."


    His eyes reddened. "That''s my Anna." He paused, gazing at the floor, then smiled to himself. "It gives me great pleasure to hear she''s well and happy." His shoulders straightened, and he stood taller, as if gaining new courage. "When you see her again, give her my regards, will you?"


    "I will." I thought of the hidden compartment in Anna''s shop. "Could the controls be hidden somewhere?"


    "Why would they do that?"


    "I don''t know. It''s just something which came to me."


    Maxim Call considered this for a moment. "Perhaps we''re looking in the wrong place."


    "Sir?"


    "Well, perhaps the controls aren''t in this piling at all. Perhaps the controls were powerful enough to work on multiple pilings at once. Why, there are six pilings in this quadrant alone! I''ll have my boys look for hidden compartments here, of course. But I think we need to start searching the other pilings as well." He nodded to himself as he began wandering off towards the door. "Very interesting idea."


    After he left the room, I chuckled. What a strange old man. "Glad I could help!"

 Chapter 2: The Queen of Diamonds - Round 16: The Truth

    I went to Madame Biltcliffe''s dress shop that afternoon and did pick out the cloth for my Summer dress, but it only took ten minutes to do so. Then I changed into Madame''s mourning garb (with veil) and was off to Market Center.


    Thrace Pike seemed surprised to see me, until I explained why I sent a note under another name. He appeared relieved, even glad, to see me with my bruise covered and no additional ones showing. In truth, the bruise Roy Spadros left on my face when he struck me last month was almost gone and easily hidden.


    Mr. Pike had puzzling news: each debtor had returned his notice saying that the gems had no curative powers whatsoever. "They seem honest men, who wished to learn the truth about the gems before selling them to others."


    "Why not just sell the gems at the going price?"


    "They feel this price is falsely elevated. To sell will leave their customers holding worthless merchandise. It''s integrity which holds them back."


    I wondered if this integrity was a smart move.


    He must have seen my opinion on my face, for he said, "If they sell gems which turn out to be worthless, no one will trust their judgments in the future." He seemed pleased to be explaining something to me, which was amusing.


    His reasoning, however, made sense. But another matter puzzled me. "So if they believe they''re being defrauded, why not return the gems? Why not go to the police?" Personally, I wouldn''t go to the police, but surely a merchant might.


    Mr. Pike shook his head. "I don''t know."


    ***


    My coachmen ignored me as I left the public taxi-carriage veiled and dressed in Madame Biltcliffe''s mourning garb. Instead of going into her store, I crossed the street, entering Roman Jewelers. Glass cases displayed fine gems and jewelry in the brightly lit room. An olive-skinned, portly man in his fifties with graying dark brown hair sat behind a desk in the room beyond.


    A shop maid stood behind the counter. "May I help you?"


    "I''m here to see Mr. Roman on a business matter."


    Mr. Roman took one look at me and put down his pen. "Come right this way." He ushered me into his office, turned to a black wooden file cabinet trimmed in brass, and took out a folder. "I''m so sorry for your loss, mum. Here is our standard estate sale packet. It has forms to inventory the jewelry you wish to sell ¡ª"


    "I''m sorry, but I''m not here to discuss an estate sale."


    He gave me a chagrined look. "My apologies! Please, take a seat." I sat across from him while he closed the door and took his seat behind the desk. "What can I do for you?"


    "I''m here on behalf of Dame Anastasia Louis ¡ª"


    At her name, the man paled, then rose, drawing away from me. "Who are you? What''s your name?"


    "I can give you a name, but it wouldn''t be my real one. Why do you think I came here veiled? Please, sit. I bear you no malice; I''m not with the police. I''m investigating this matter and only wish to ask a few questions."


    He gave me a quick appraisal then sat, the color slowly returning to his face. "Very well. What do you wish to know?"


    "I know the reason you gave Mr. Pike as to why you aren''t paying your debts. But I had some further questions."


    He nodded, his eyes taking on an evaluating look.


    "Did Dame Anastasia make any claims as to the use or benefit of these gems when she sold them to you?"


    "She did." He reached into a drawer.


    I felt for my pistol in its calf holster, but he produced a flyer:


    THE MIRACLE GEM


    Dug from the earth


    Blessed by the sacred healing mineral springs of Old Montana


    Cut and polished by master craftsmen


    Benefits physician-certified


    A long list of various colored gems and their uses proceeded forth. The flyer also contained a description of various elixirs, oils, and creams using these gems, "for milder cases", at a lower price.


    "How many gems did you contract for?"


    "One of each, so that I might see their uses for myself. I asked for a trial period, which she agreed to, then gave them a fair trial with myself, family members, and friends. None experienced any benefit whatsoever, even when used as directed."


    This seemed odd, especially in light of the article in the Bridges Daily. And the gems were certified by this Doctor. Could all these men be mistaken? "Why didn''t you return the gems?"


    "I tried to a week ago. The clerk told me this wasn''t acceptable, that I must pay for the use of the gems since I did not pay on delivery. When I protested, her guards escorted me out. A man came to my home that night and said ¡ª" His face turned red, and he looked away. "She''s obtained information on a matter I don''t wish to become public. This man threatened to use it against me should I speak of this or go to the police. But I no longer care. Tell her what you will. I refuse to pay for worthless gems. If she lies on their usefulness, what else has she lied about?"


    What indeed.


    Mr. Roman said, "What are you going to tell her?"


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    "I? Nothing as yet. For you see, she has paid me in gems."


    The man nodded. "Ah. Bring them to me. I''ll be glad to appraise them for you, at no charge."


    The thought of Anastasia forging her signature diamond necklace was ludicrous. "Who was this man?"


    "He didn''t say. A Diamond man, dressed entirely in white."


    Jack Diamond? In downtown Spadros? How could he have come here?


    "I do have a question," Mr. Roman said. "Why would you, of all people, work for her?"


    I blinked in alarm. "What did you say?"


    "You don''t stay alive as long as I have in this city without being able to see who people are behind their masks and veils. You''re a young woman, in no grief, yet veiled as in mourning. You carry yourself as an upper, yet your voice is roughened by tobacco and you smell of alcohol. Even if I didn''t recognize you by that, and the dress of my friend across the way ¡ª"


    I stared at him, shocked.


    "¡ª I would know the ring you wear anywhere ¡ª"


    I peered at my hand, in its glove, the outline of the ring plain.


    "¡ª seeing as I made it." He smiled to himself. "Well, I suppose helping a neighbor is as good a reason as any." He paused. "Don''t worry, my dear, no one will know you were here."


    I felt relieved. "Thank you very much, sir. I''m sorry to have alarmed you." A thought struck me. "Why did you not tell my husband of this ... Diamond man?"


    He gave me a slight smile. "But I did."


    No wonder Tony was so upset at having Jonathan and Gardena Diamond to our home.


    ***


    I walked a block down, crossed the street, into the alleyway, and up to Madame Biltcliffe''s back door. But after I gave Madame her dress back, I didn''t change into my own. I had one more place to visit: Anastasia''s factory, where the gems were being cut and polished. Fortunately, Madame allowed me to use Tenni as a decoy for a while longer.


    I wanted to learn how this all worked, why her costs were so high. I wanted some evidence that she told me the truth.


    The factory was in the Spadros quadrant, a large brown building with "Manufacturing Associates" on the front door. Lights blazed on every floor, and armed men stood watch at every entrance. Horse-drawn trucks came and went, workers carried boxes to and fro. I stood across the street, trying to decide how to approach this. If I asked for Anastasia dressed in Tenni''s shop maid uniform, they would surely ask my name. Perhaps I would try another tactic.


    I walked across the street and approached a man counting boxes. "Sir, do you know if they''re hiring?"


    "I''m sorry, miss, I don''t know. Just making a delivery."


    I went past a guard to the front desk where a young man stood behind a counter. He was corpulent, with big ears and a bigger nose, hair greasy, skin pock-marked, with thick round spectacles, but he stood as if he owned the place. Perfect for what I had in mind. I went to him and curtsied. "I was wondering, sir, if you''re hiring here."


    He gave me a self-important smile. "No, miss, sorry. This factory is set to close soon. We''re just finishing up the last of the orders. Only a few days yet to go and then we''ll close, and maybe a day to tidy up. We have all the help we need right now. But my, aren''t you a sweet one for asking."


    I gave him the smile my Ma taught me to use when you''re buttering up a mark. "What all do they do here? It seems so busy to be closing."


    His cheeks reddened, and he stood straighter. "Well, we make gemstones. Gorgeous ones, best in the city. The exact replicas of any sort of gemstone imaginable. It''s truly amazing what scientific achievement can do these days. You can''t tell the difference between them and the ones dug from the ground."


    I didn''t have to feign surprise. "Really? That must be so expensive. And difficult!"


    "Not at all," he said. "We have a special patented process. In fact, no one I know of has even thought of creating gems in this way. It''s a true miracle." He glanced around, then leaned his arms on the counter. "Do you want to see?"


    I gazed in his eyes in rapt anticipation. "Oh, I would love to!"


    I took his arm, which smelled of sardines, and held it snug. He brought me to a room with boxes of paper masks and hair covers. We put them on, and thin white coats which tied. "This keeps the gem dust from our clothes and lungs," he said with a tone of authority. Then he handed me goggles, which I put on.


    I giggled. "This is fun!"


    He escorted me around the factory, hardly taking a breath between sentences as he explained every detail of the process. Even if I wanted to speak, I couldn''t have.


    But I truly didn''t want to: I felt amazed at the display before me. Huge machines held bubbling liquids, and extruded bars of clear material, which went to cutters and polishers. Beautiful cut gems of all colors came out the other end.


    I smiled up at him. "This is so wonderful!"


    "Hey!" A middle aged man pointed at us. "You there. You aren''t allowed here on the floor."


    "Yes, sir," the young man said. Then he turned to me. "He''s a right bear, he is. But no worry; he can''t do a thing to us. Let''s go back out."


    We took off our goggles, hats, coats and masks, and he escorted me outside in the courtyard.


    I gazed up at him. "Oh, it was the most beautiful thing I''ve ever seen. I hope you won''t catch trouble?"


    "No, no. He can''t do anything to me," the young man said, with much bravado. "He has no real power; he''s just jealous that you''re with me. Some men can''t get a woman, and they have a fierce hatred and jealousy for anyone who can. But the real reason he can''t touch me is that I''m related to the owner. She''s my great-aunt, Dame Anastasia Louis herself."


    I made my eyes wide as a schoolgirl. "Really? You''re an important man, then."


    He grinned, as if to a small child. "I am." He put his arm round me. "She''s going to make me famous, she said, teach me everything she knows. Did you know she was a famous actress? She did a show that was the talk of the town. Played the Queen of Diamonds, because she was the understudy and the woman who played the part suddenly took terribly ill and later died! Her role was controversial. It was quite the scandal back then, seeing as she was an aristocrat and all ¡ª and she didn''t look the part, she had to wear special makeup, but she didn''t care. From all accounts, she performed magnificently! Even the President of the Feds came to see her at the show in Hub! What an honor for our family."


    What an idiot you are. I snuggled up beside him, there with workers going all around us, and gazed up at him with wide trusting eyes. "There''s one thing I don''t understand, though. Doesn''t making gemstones cost a terrible large amount?"


    "Oh, not at all! It''s fairly amazing; each gem costs us less than a penny, once you factor in the materials, the shipping them in, the labor. And then last week the price was $10 each!" He laughed. "And then you know all the elixirs and such?"


    I nodded, lips parted, as if I had never heard such wisdom.


    "They sweep the floor every night, and all that gem dust gets washed and separated out, and it goes into the next day''s mix. Costs us nothing extra!"


    "Oh my," I gushed. "How wonderful for you! You must be a very rich man."


    He preened. "Well, I do all right. All the workers get equal shares, so as long as the business does well, we do well. But I''m just starting out. In a few days, we''ll be off to set this up in another town. Our business partner is injured, well, there''s rumors he and my great-aunt are to be married soon, which is only proper for a woman, you know, to be married and have her husband run the business, but he''ll be along as soon as he''s recovered."


    "Oh? Injured? How terrible!"


    "Yes, it is, isn''t it? Shot in the leg by a competitor! You wouldn''t believe how many people are jealous of our operation. But to shoot him? Utterly despicable! Why, this man is of the highest caliber, a true gentleman. ''My boy,'' he said, and he actually put his arm on my shoulder ¡ª imagine! A great man like him, putting me as his equal ¡ª he said, ''when we''re done here, I''ll get rid of these lowlifes lording over you and promote you to where you can do some good in the company.'' Can you believe it? I''m going to run a factory of my own, get my fair share of the profits: the upper crust, so to speak. It''s wonderful that my great-aunt met this man!"


    He paused, his face changing, as if he had an idea. "You want to come with me? I''ll marry you right proper. You don''t need papers to marry on the zeppelin, once you''re free of the aperture."


    I glanced away, trying not to laugh. We''ve been talking for twenty minutes and he proposes marriage? "Why, sir, I don''t even know your name. And I could hardly leave my elderly widowed aunt. I care for her nights."


    "Well, we could bring her too," he said. "And my name is Trey Louis. What''s yours?"


    I tilted my head to look up at him. "Eunice Ogier."


    "Ah, Eunice, what a lovely name. And a lovely girl you are, too." He paused. "You come meet me at the zeppelin station on the first of March at 3 o''clock. Gate 19. It''s the last zeppelin leaving before the show, leaving at half past three, and I''ll be glad to be rid of this place. Get there at three, and I''ll buy two more tickets ¡ª one for you, one for your aunt ¡ª once you arrive."


    I leaped away from him, jumping up and down clapping. "Oh, just wait until I tell my auntie!"


    Fear crossed his face. "Now you can''t tell everyone, love, especially not with Dame Anastasia''s name used. No one must know. She plans to leave quietly."


    "I understand. Not a soul." I put my finger to my lips. Then I took his hands. "Oh, Trey," I said with passion, "I''m so happy! I''m to marry a rich man. Who would ever have thought?"


    He beamed at me. "I''ll show you the best time, my sweet. You and your auntie. You''ll see." He glanced at his watch. "I better get back. How about a little kiss for your affianced?"


    "Oh," I said, fanning myself. "I wouldn''t want you to think me a loose woman, kissing you here in the street." I moved close to him, and embraced him, nuzzling his cheek with mine. "Give you something to think of between now and the wedding."


    The same middle aged man bellowed from the door. "Louis! Where the hell are you? We got deliveries here!"


    "My love, I must go," he said, and ran off.


    I left the area as fast as I could before Trey changed his mind.


    Was I wicked, to tease him so? Perhaps. But I had learned more truth in a half hour than I might in weeks of investigating.


    Dame Anastasia was running a scam.

 Chapter 2: The Queen of Diamonds - Round 17: The Ploy

    Soon I was back home, and so was Tony. He was taking his coat off when I came inside. "How was your visit with Miss Kerr?"


    Pearson must have told him. "She was anxious about our good graces," I said. "And Joe has been asking about us."


    Tony nodded. "Tomorrow we can pay a proper visit."


    "I''ll write her at once. After luncheon, perhaps?"


    "Yes, that would be good."


    After changing into house clothes, I returned to my study and wrote to Josie.


    Then I brought out my list and studied it again. I was beginning to see another pattern: this "business partner" of Anastasia''s, who she was to marry, sounded suspiciously like Frank Pagliacci. And Frank seemed to also be Zia''s lover ¡ª at least in her mind.


    When a man is proven to be a kidnapper and strangler of boys, it shouldn''t be surprising to find him a cad as well.


    I wrote notes to my informants asking for any details on Anastasia they might glean. I handed the stack to Pearson and went upstairs to dress for dinner.


    While Amelia fussed with my dress and hair, I considered Anastasia''s scam. A penny a gem, sold for ten dollars ¡ª a sweet little set up. It sounded as if the workers were in on the scam as well. Splitting the profits gave them sure motivation to keep quiet.


    Then to lie about the benefits ... unless this whole list of men were mistaken, this Dr. Gocow must be in on the scam as well ¡ª if he were even real. I touched the moonstone hanging between my breasts, wondering how much Tony paid for it.


    I needed to talk with my contact at the newspaper. How did these articles get into the Bridges Daily if they were false?


    ***


    The next day, the Bridges Daily had this as its top story:


    STABLE-MASTER MURDERED


    The Bridges stable-master was found strangled in his bed upon arrival of his taxi-men this morning. Market Center police have evidence of multiple persons involved in the murder.


    Memorial services will be announced after the police investigation has completed.


    Shock, recriminations, and vows to fight crime filled much of the rest of the article.


    Melancholy swept over me. What more could I have done? I gave the letter to Madame Biltcliffe ¡ª did she send it? Did it reach the stable-man? Did he take the warning, or toss it aside?


    The fact that this man died of strangulation ¡ª just like those boys ¡ª chilled me. Had Frank Pagliacci healed enough to resume his killing spree?


    Amelia came in. "Mum, I must have dropped this on the way up. I''m sorry."


    I took the envelope from her and opened it. Large, child-like printed handwriting on cheap paper greeted me:


    j-bird they wan to kill yur ma to. i walk pass the pokit pare home from work at 7 then down the side.


    marja


    J-bird was Marja''s name for me when I was a little girl.


    The Pocket Pair was my friend Vig Vikenti''s establishment. How did Marja know that I would know where it was? Very few people knew that I even knew the man, much less visited him.


    I looked at the envelope but other than my name on the front, it held no other information.


    "Amelia, ask Pearson to come here."


    "But mum, you''re not dressed."


    "I''ll get my robe."


    She went out, closing the door behind her. I threw the note in the fire, watching it burn. I got my robe then sat back at my tea-table and finished my toast while I waited.


    The door opened. Pearson peered at me. "Yes, mum?"


    "The letter which came this morning. Who brought it?"


    "One of the usual messenger boys, mum. Do you need me to call him back?"


    I handed Pearson the envelope. "Find out who sent this, or at least the location it came from, as quietly as possible."


    "Yes, mum." Pearson was the perfect man to choose if you wanted something done discreetly.


    They want to kill your Ma too.


    "What time does the morning paper print?"


    Pearson hadn''t moved, which surprised me when I realized it. "Early, mum. It''s here at half past seven. Even if the truck came here first ¡ª"


    The Bridges Daily office was on Market Center. I nodded.


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    "¡ª perhaps five? Or earlier, if they''re to have them all wrapped and ready." He paused. "I never considered the matter before." For the first time in my life, John Pearson sounded surprised. "They must be up half the night."


    So Marja hadn''t seen the paper yet ¡ª she heard this last night. They want to kill your Ma too.


    "Mrs. Spadros," Pearson said, "are you well?"


    "Find out where this letter came from."


    ***


    Amelia was in the midst of doing my hair when Pearson returned. "The boy said he got it from a warehouse in Spadros, mum ¡ª a food distribution center on 17th and Broadway. It was in a letter-basket he picks up every morning for an extra fee."


    Right near Vig''s bar. "Thank you, Pearson."


    He bowed and turned to go.


    "Wait. Who owns that warehouse?"


    "I don''t know, mum. Would you like me to find out for you?"


    "Yes, but quietly."


    Marja either worked at this warehouse or close by. She overheard someone planning to kill the stable-man and my Ma.


    Did she stumble upon Frank Pagliacci and his crew?


    I could see them wanting to kill the stable-man. He could identify them. But why target my Ma?


    I remembered the rage in Jack Diamond''s eyes as he knelt by his friend''s corpse ten years ago. Did Jack think he could get at my father through Ma?


    It was absurd. Ma didn''t love Peedro Sluff, and he had never once spoken of her. But Jack didn''t know that.


    And there was another possibility.


    Morton, David, and I cowered behind the boxes as Frank Pagliacci boasted. "I have you; when they come for you, I''ll kill them, one by one."


    But that didn''t work: we defeated him and his men. Was this another ploy to capture me?


    Frank Pagliacci might have fooled me once, luring me to Jack Diamond''s factory, but it wouldn''t happen again. Roy said if I went to the Spadros Pot he would kill Ma and everyone in the Cathedral. Perhaps Frank didn''t know that.


    How did he know about Ma?


    It didn''t matter. I had to get Ma out of Bridges altogether, somewhere safe from both Frank and Jack.


    ***


    Morton still slept a great deal, but was able to come down the stairs for breakfast, with help. "This sausage is quite good," he said. "My compliments to your chef."


    "Monsieur will be pleased," I said. "I favor it as well."


    Tony laughed. "We might have to buy a whole extra hog just for breakfasts, should ¡ª" He stopped, his face stricken.


    Should I come with child.


    Tony''s eyes met mine. "Forgive me."


    Morton glanced between us. "Is something wrong?"


    "Nothing," I said to Tony. "Think nothing of it."


    I gazed at the gardens through the large windows around us. I still took my special morning tea ... and Tony obviously thought my "inability" to bear children distressed me.


    I felt a sudden hatred of my life: forced to lie in every area in order to have an existence other than what the Spadros Family dictated for me. But could it ever be any different?


    I turned to Morton. "How are you feeling, sir?"


    "Weak still, but improving." He paused for several moments, then straightened in his chair, his demeanor relaxed, contented. "It''s good to be here. I never imagined the Spadros Family to have such pleasant circumstances, or such congenial company."


    Tony smiled. "I do imagine our fearsome reputation."


    Morton appeared flustered. "I meant no offense, sir."


    "None taken. I''m not my father, Master Rainbow. One day he''ll be gone, and I mean to have good and loyal men by my side when that happens. I hope you''ll consider my offer."


    Morton stared at his plate, hands in his lap. "I''ll consider it."


    I saw why Tony thought Morton wasn''t who he said he was. For a moment there, the true Blaze Rainbow showed through, a man who evidently juggled conflicting alliances.


    Why did Morton hesitate? Was this a ploy to see what else we might offer? What did his employer give that we did not?


    ***


    That afternoon, Tony and I left Morton asleep in his bed and went to visit the Kerrs. A young girl of perhaps eighteen ushered us into their parlor. There we waited for some time until the maid wheeled Joe in.


    The large bandage on Joe''s head still remained. The cuts and scratches on his face and arms were healing, and he smiled that beautiful smile as he entered the room. He had a bandaged calf, a metal brace on his thigh (with much plaster) and steel going into the leg itself. This was supported on a metal platform which emerged from his brass and wooden wheeled chair. Josie and their grandfather Polansky Kerr IV came in behind him.


    "Hello!" Mr. Kerr said. "So good to see you!"


    "I''m so happy you could come," Josie said.


    We rose to greet them. Tony appeared shocked at Joe''s condition. "I hope you''re well?"


    Joe nodded. "Much improved, sir. Forgive me for not rising to greet you."


    This took Tony off guard. "Well ¡ª of course!" He moved to shake Joe''s and Mr. Kerr''s hands and kiss Josie''s.


    We all sat. Joe peered at me, his face somber.


    Mr. Kerr said, "I hope you and your family are well?" A gentleman of eighty and seven, he was well-dressed, well-groomed, and appeared in perfect health.


    "Indeed," Tony said. "We''re quite well, thank you."


    "Would you like some tea?" Josie said.


    "Certainly," I said.


    "Daisy, fetch Mr and Mrs Spadros some tea, please."


    The maid curtsied and left, returning with a tea-tray so quickly I wondered if she had it sitting outside the room. She began to pour for us, mine first.


    "What news of the outside world?" Mr. Kerr said. "I hear your Family does quite a bit of shipping from your quadrant."


    Tony chuckled. "My father''s in charge of that. I hear little other than what is in the Bridges Daily."


    "Do you not travel?" Josie said.


    Tony shook his head. "Being the Family Heir, I''m allowed little travel, except of course, in our quadrant. I suppose I''m too highly valued to risk in a zeppelin."


    "A pity," Mr. Kerr said, and the way he said made me feel this was the truest thing anyone had said so far today. "I find travel opens new viewpoints and opportunities seldom found at home."


    Tony smiled and took my hand. "Perhaps someday Mrs. Spadros and I will travel." He turned to me, gazing in my eyes. "Would you like that?"


    To leave Bridges was my fondest wish. "Very much so." I glanced up to find all three of the Kerrs watching me. I forced myself to laugh. "Surely it''s not so uncommon as all that."


    "It''s quite expensive, I hear," Josie said. "Only the aristocrats seem to do much traveling these days. Although we do get our fair share of well-to-do tourists here in Hart for the races."


    "You know," Tony said, "I have never been."


    Joe''s face brightened. "Oh you would love it," he said. "Quite diverting. And the food is magnificent."


    "Perhaps I might persuade Mr. Hart to extend you an invitation," Mr. Kerr said.


    Tony turned to me. "Our fourth anniversary is soon. Perhaps we might go then, to celebrate."


    A spasm of anger crossed Joe''s face.


    Tony, focused on me as he was, didn''t see it. He turned to Mr. Kerr. "And perhaps you would like to visit the casinos? We''re in the midst of renovation, but even so there are many games open."


    Josie turned to her grandfather. "Oh could we go? Please?"


    Mr. Kerr smiled. "It''s difficult to deny my grandchildren anything, it seems. Very well, we shall set a date." His voice remained light, but I could see the pain in his eyes. "After the celebration, perhaps?"


    Tony regarded him for a long moment, then nodded. "We''ve imposed upon your hospitality long enough." He rose, and went to Joe, so I did as well. "Best wishes for your recovery, sir." He turned to me. "Come, Jacqui, we must be off."


    I wasn''t sure what was going on, so I said nothing. Once the carriage was in motion, Tony said, "I''m sorry to leave so suddenly, but I got a ¡ª a terrible feeling. And I had a thought: my ancestor destroyed his." He hesitated. "If our positions were reversed, and I had the heir of the man who destroyed my family in my home ... I feared taking tea with them."


    "Tony!" The idea was monstrous. "These are friends I''ve known my entire life. They had us for luncheon New Year''s Day. If they wished to poison us, wouldn''t they have done it then?"


    "You know Master Kerr and Miss Kerr. But your friend is gravely hurt ¡ª and what do you know about the grandfather?"


    I recalled the fear in Joe''s face. My grandfather is a monster.


    Tony shook his head. "I just ¡ª I felt something was terribly wrong. You''re welcome to visit as you like, but I ¡ª I don''t think I''ll go there again."

 Chapter 2: The Queen of Diamonds - Round 18: The Blackmail

    Nothing during the visit seemed wrong to me. Could Tony''s lack of sleep and worry about the issue with Gardena ¡ª whatever it was ¡ª be making him paranoid?


    I turned to Tony, hoping he might speak further on what troubled him about the visit, but he stared out of the window.


    Tony''s brother was poisoned by an assassin. Perhaps this made Tony wary of anyone who had cause to hate him.


    We approached the bridge to Market Center and crossed it. After a while, my thoughts drifted to how I might get Ma out of the city.


    If I had money for a zeppelin ticket, the matter would be simple. But I didn''t, so the alternative was smuggling her out. And the only way to smuggle someone out would be to appeal to the Clubbs, who would want to know why I wanted a Pot rag smuggled out of the city.


    Gardena seemed to like Lance, and the Clubbs seemed to want to be our allies. That didn''t mean I would automatically trust them with my mother''s life.


    Whatever I did, it had to be something that Roy never learned of. He had never expressly forbidden me from contacting Ma, but I had never dared to before. I always feared he would kill us both.


    Why did I not go to Tony? My mother wasn''t at my wedding because Roy led Tony to believe Peedro Sluff was my only family. To reveal she was alive would mean I had lied to Tony for the past ten years. What else might I have lied about? He would begin asking questions about a great many things. He''d at least want to know why I lied, and I couldn''t tell him his father had threatened me every step of the way to the altar. Roy made it very clear he would kill me if I did so. Could Tony really protect me from Roy?


    I couldn''t take that chance. Tony must never learn that Roy blackmailed me into marrying him until I was somewhere Roy could never find me.


    ***


    The next day, I went to luncheon with Gardena, uneasy about what she might have to say. I wished that she and Tony had never had their conversation, or rather, had taken it out of my presence.


    We passed through the side bridge to Diamond at once; evidently, she had sent word in advance.


    Light gray cobblestones paved the streets and the curbs were painted white. Many of the buildings were either black brick mortared in gray, painted white, or of silver wood with silver fittings. The lamp posts were delicately spiraled wrought iron painted white with faceted crystal lamp covers which I imagined looked lovely when lit.


    Thousands of gentlemen and ladies, many as dark as the Diamond Family, pushed prams, promenaded, or entered shops. The Diamond quadrant ladies seemed to prefer bright colors; the streets looked festive just from their clothes.


    The streets teemed with traffic. The Diamond Family''s horses and carriages were white, with silver and white tackle. Our black carriage and horses stood in stark contrast to theirs.


    My carriage stopped in front of the Diamond Women''s Club, and my outriders halted beside us as Honor helped me out to the street. An attendant in Diamond livery, white with silver buttons, came up. "Mrs. Spadros, you''re expected. Welcome."


    I smiled. "Thank you." I went to the stairs of silver wood with silver banisters and a silver-gray carpet. An attendant opened the silver wood door.


    The entry was carpeted in the same silver-gray. An attendant stood behind a white podium. "Ah, Mrs. Spadros, right this way."


    I didn''t expect to be greeted so warmly.


    The luncheon room was large and white, with picture windows covering the far wall. Tables with white tablecloths were set up throughout the room, but the room was empty. Gardena sat at a table in the center of the room, her mother Rachel beside her. Gardena''s attendant pulled out her chair as she rose to greet me. Rachel Diamond seemed intent upon the napkin in her lap.


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "Gardena, what is this? Do we have the entire room today?"


    "I thought it would make your men feel more comfortable if the Club were closed for today, rather than being full of people."


    I smiled. "Thank you for thinking of my men."


    "You hold your servants in high regard." She took my hand. "And care for their comfort. It is something I love about you."


    She wore a cream-colored gown trimmed in tan. It made her skin seem even darker than it was, and the shade gave her face a rosy glow. "You look gorgeous," I said. "Is this your Spring dress?"


    She blushed. "Thank you. It is."


    "Mine is still being displayed." I laughed. "My dressmaker is quite the entrepreneur."


    "Come, sit." She patted the table next to her.


    An attendant stood by with my chair, so I sat. "It''s nice to see you, Mrs. Diamond."


    "So nice," Rachel Diamond said, in a singsong voice. Then she raised her head. "Who are you?"


    "This is Mrs. Spadros, Mama," Gardena said.


    "Oh, yes, how wonderful to meet you."


    We last saw each other not six weeks ago, but Gardena shook her head, so I let the matter drop.


    I took a sip. "I hope your family is well?"


    "Yes, as well as can be expected."


    "Is something wrong?"


    "Jack has taken to his rooms these past few days. Jonathan has felt rather poorly as well; the doctor prescribed a trip to the country, with fresh air, meals on the veranda, and daily walks. So I miss seeing him. My older brothers are all busy with their families, and rarely visit. My father keeps to his study, so the house seems rather empty. But I shall visit Jon this weekend."


    "Gardena, why does Jon take all those vials? What''s wrong?"


    "It''s nothing; he''s always had a delicate constitution, and the city air is often foul." She patted my hand. "Jon will be pleased that you asked after him. I shall send your love when I visit."


    "I wish I could visit, but I doubt Mr. Spadros would allow it."


    Gardena gave a pensive sigh. "All in good time." But then she smiled. "Would you like some wine?"


    "That sounds lovely."


    Rachel Diamond sang, "Lovely."


    Gardena gestured to the waiter, and he brought our wines. Gardena drained her glass.


    I had never seen Gardena drink much before. "Did you have a chance to speak with Lance the night of the dinner?"


    "I did briefly. And he called on me yesterday afternoon."


    "Wonderful! I''m so pleased."


    "It was nice to see him. He''s caused controversy amongst my brothers, though. Cheh-zah-ray says the Clubbs are the most dangerous Family in the city, much too dangerous to ally with."


    "Cheh-zah-ray?"


    Gardena blinked. "Yes, my oldest brother. I saw him on the dais before you greeted my parents at the Grand Ball. Have you not been introduced?"


    "No." I remembered the man who glared at Tony that night. "And I''ve never heard such a name. How is it spelled?"


    "C-E-S-A-R-E. Cesare. It''s Italian for Caesar, after my father''s grandfather. Did your family not teach you Italian?"


    My cheeks burned. "I was born in the Spadros Pot, Gardena. I said so at our dinner."


    She blushed. "Forgive me. I meant the Spadros Family."


    It seemed I hadn''t been taught many things I needed to know. We sat in awkward silence, while Rachel Diamond hummed tunelessly to herself.


    Gardena''s manner seemed formal, almost strained. I wondered what she could possibly have to tell me that she was so nervous about. And she hadn''t asked at all about Tony, even when I brought his name up. "May I ask a personal question?"


    A blank, terrified stare crossed her eyes for a brief moment, then she said, "Of course."


    What did she have to be afraid of? "Perhaps this isn''t a good time to ask. You brought me here for a reason."


    "Can''t I bring you to my quadrant because we''re friends?"


    "Of course. I''m happy to be here. But you seem upset, and I want to be of service. How can I help you?"


    She looked away. "Don''t ask about Anthony. Or why we fought. Or why I struck him. Please." She turned her head toward me, and pressed her closed hand to her lips. "It would break trust, and endanger lives. In any case, it''s his story to tell." She took a deep breath. "I would like very much for you to know. I begged him to tell you. But I can''t speak of it. Not here. Not now. Please."


    She spoke as if she knew Tony well. But she didn''t know such a simple thing: he hated being called Anthony. "Then I will remain silent. It hurts, though, to see you both in such pain and not know why." I pondered whether I should I reveal how much Tony loved her. But I decided against it; whether she saw it or not, my words would only bring grief. "I only want what''s best for you both."


    Gardena took a deep breath and let it out. Then she smiled a fake smile. "You''re right; I did have something I must share with you. I need advice, and I don''t know who else to turn to."


    "If there''s any way I can help, I will."


    She didn''t speak for several minutes, her head drooping. The waiters stood aside, covered plates in hand.


    Finally, she raised her head. "I''m being blackmailed."


    "I don''t understand," I said. "What have you done?"


    She took a deep breath, and when she spoke, she sounded small and old and weary.


    "I killed my grandfather."

 Chapter 2: The Queen of Diamonds - Round 19: The Crisis

    I stared at Gardena in shock. "You did what?"


    She began to laugh. "Oh, if you could see your face!" She signaled for the waiters to bring our food: lamb, spring greens, and new potatoes.


    "Is this a joke? Because if it is, it''s in very poor taste."


    Gardena shook her head, contrite. "I wish it were."


    Once the waiters refilled our wine glasses and retreated, Gardena cut her mother''s food as she told me her story.


    Hector Diamond was a kind and gentle man, at least to Gardena and her family. He was a younger son who took over the Business late in life. His main passion was mechanism, and he became the Diamond Family''s Inventor, the youngest to rise to that rank since the Coup.


    Hector and his brilliant soon to be daughter-in-law Rachel were friends immediately upon meeting. Rachel became one of his Apprentices, and after her marriage to his son Julius, they spent hours in their basement working on one contraption after another. Gardena spent much of her childhood playing there while her mother and grandfather worked.


    "I can''t tell you what they made," Gardena said. "That''s secret. But their grand achievement was to have been an automaton with the electrical patterns of a human brain. It might be truly alive, and think for itself. Just imagine the possibilities!"


    Her mother and grandfather decided to use their minds as patterns for this automaton, and all was going well. But a storm came up, and something went terribly wrong.


    "Fortunately, none of us children were in the room at the time," she said. "But we heard a great noise, and the lights went out, then a roar from my grandfather and a sound of smashing. My father and brothers ran downstairs to see my grandfather breaking all he had built. My mother stood in the midst of it, her face blank and staring.


    "It took all of them plus many servants to restrain him. He was tied to his bed. My mother would do whatever you asked, but then stay still until you told her to do something else.


    "As time progressed, they both regained a bit of their sanity, but have never been the same. During my grandfather''s calm periods, he spoke of futility and wishing for death. Many a time, he begged me to kill him. The only time which seemed to bring him joy was when we took tea together. He loved mushroom sandwiches, so I made him some."


    I put my hands to my mouth in horror.


    "The cook was a wretched woman, who beat us when my parents were absent, so I made it appear she did it." Gardena stared at her plate; the lamb fat had begun to congeal. "My father had her killed." She turned to me. "Who would know what I did?"


    Rachel hummed a children''s tune in the silence.


    I leaned back and took a sip of my wine, stunned by the revelations. "Tell me what''s happening now."


    "Last week, I received a letter which said, ''I know what you have done''. At first I didn''t know what it meant, but the letters continued every day, with greater threats. Then," she glanced away, "I received another, which said, ''mushroom sandwich''."


    Why wait all these years, then blackmail her now?


    "Each letter was brought by a different messenger boy. Each said he got the letter from a different part of the city, but they all said the man looked like a Diamond." She laughed. "In other words, he could be just about anyone in the city."


    I laughed. "But not Charles Hart."


    Rachel Diamond gave me an amused glance which was so ... aware ... that I shuddered. How much did she understand?


    Gardena laughed. "Or Roy Spadros." But then she sobered. "His last letter said he plans to send letters everywhere if I don''t pay him a great sum, more than I have: the police, the newspapers, my father." She paused, looking away. "I fear my father the most. He will never forgive me for what I''ve done."


    I glanced at Gardena''s mother, who was trying ¡ª and failing ¡ª to eat her lamb with a spoon. "Should we be speaking of such things in front of her?"


    Gardena sighed and switched out her mother''s spoon for a fork. "I''ve cared for her daily for many years. Sometimes it seems as if she knows what you say ... but I don''t really think she does."


    "But what if she says something to your father?"


    "Oh," Gardena said, "I don''t think Papa would believe her."


    That look Rachel gave me ... "I suppose you know best." I took a bite of lamb; it was quite good.


    How to handle this crisis so her father wouldn''t learn the truth, yet the blackmailer might be silenced? "Arrange a meeting with this blackmailer in a public place. Have your brothers there and capture the man. They can discuss this with the man at leisure, and your father need never be notified."


    "What should I tell my brothers?"


    I shrugged. "The truth: a man is blackmailing you. You need not say why, or tell them whatever you wish. I''m sure you can think of something." She had eaten nothing. "You''d best eat, or you''ll lose your reputation; the bird eats thrice its weight daily."


    Gardena chuckled at the reference to my dinner party, but began eating. After she had eaten about half of her plate, she said, "Will you come with me? When we catch this man."


    The idea made me uneasy. "I don''t know, Dena ..."


    "I promise, Jack won''t be there. He has a horror of sitting in wait; he thinks it tedious. Please come with me. This whole thing is all too frightening. I wish you to be with me, as support."


    Why didn''t they do something about him? "It can''t be in Diamond quadrant, Dena, it can''t ... please ... make the meeting on Market Center."


    Gardena nodded. "I would be so grateful. But what do you need? I''ve taken of your generosity twice now, and this seems like a poor return."


    I stared at my plate. "I don''t know if I ..." Could I trust her with this? I glanced at Rachel; she was intent on her napkin again.


    Don''t let Jack hurt my Ma.


    But I couldn''t say that. Gardena believed Jack to be sick, not dangerous. I didn''t want to get in an argument about her brother or reveal his crimes, not in the midst of Diamond quadrant.


    I stared at my plate, feeling ill. Sharing this with Gardena, who didn''t understand the danger ...? But who else could I trust? If Jon wasn''t away, I would have gone to him. He would help me in this without question.


    I took a deep breath. "I must get my mother out of the city."


    Gardena gazed at me without moving. "I''ve never heard you speak of your mother before." Then she frowned slightly. "Why must you get your mother out of the city? What''s wrong?"


    The irony didn''t escape me. "Her life has been threatened."


    "What''s happened? Are you sure? This is horrifying!"


    If only she knew. "I have good evidence. I wouldn''t ask something like this for anything less."


    "I''m sorry. Of course, you know best." She sat silently, eyes far away. "I overheard Cesare and Lance talking about shipping Pot rags to Dickens as workers. Would that do?"


    Pot rags. "Is that what you think? That I''m just a Pot rag?"


    She put her hands to her mouth. "I''m so sorry, Jacqui. Of course not, you''re not like that."


    I shook my head. She just didn''t understand. "I appreciate the thought, but my Ma would never leave for that; she''s an owner."


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    And I remembered how the Clubbs sold the secrets of others. Could I trust Lance Clubb?


    Gardena said, "Perhaps he can get her a post as a supervisor?"


    I laughed. My mother ran the best brothel in the Spadros Pot. "Now that''s something she certainly can do." Then I sobered. Ma would be giving up everything she had worked so hard for.


    "I''ll speak with him about it," Gardena said. "If I do that, will you come with me?"


    I took a breath and let it out. I would have to get a message to Ma; she still might not want to leave me here. It was so risky. If the letter were intercepted, it could mean both our deaths ... but it was the best chance I had to get her to safety. "Very well, but it must be truly secret. No one must know my mother is leaving the city. I''m serious; she might be killed."


    Gardena stared at me in horror.


    "And your brothers mustn''t breathe a word I was there to meet your blackmailer. Mr. Spadros would be quite upset if he learned I placed myself into such danger."


    Gardena smiled fondly. "He would." She sat up straighter. "It''s settled, then. I shall write when it has all been arranged."


    When I left the Diamond Ladies'' Club and approached my carriage, I realized I could have gone to Anastasia any time to smuggle Ma out of the city and she would have done it. I had a terrible vision of an empty lock-box.


    I don''t trust Anastasia anymore.


    "I should like to visit the bank on Market Center."


    "Of course, mum," Honor said.


    It was a short ride to the bank, my outriders clearing the path through Diamond and across the bridge to the island.


    Gardena had done a terrible thing. But it wasn''t what caused friction between her and Tony.


    I believed Gardena told the truth about her grandfather, but ... something didn''t ring true about the blackmail. I felt that whoever blackmailed her did so for another reason.


    What was Gardena involved with?


    ***


    I entered the bank, a sandstone edifice several stories high. Of course, I had been to the bank many times, but never had a lock-box before. I felt unsure how to proceed, so I went to the teller, who acted as if accessing a lock-box was an everyday occurrence. After a brief wait for the manager, I produced the key to box #7 and was ushered into the vault area.


    Rows of boxes ran along an enormous golden hall, to the ceiling; there must have been thousands of them. But we didn''t go inside the hall itself, but into a small glass antechamber. "Wait here," said the manager.


    In the antechamber sat a round table of polished wood with carved wooden chairs. It also held a drawer made completely of glass, set waist high in the wall closest to the box room. The table was lit from above, as if the purpose of the room was to display it.


    I waited while the manager approached a technician dressed in white who stood inside the hall. They spoke briefly, then the manager returned, standing outside the open antechamber door.


    The technician used a system of levers, gears, and pulleys to move a large arm over and down, to the bottom row. The arm then slid inside a small cubicle in the far wall and emerged holding a box. The technician guided the arm completely around, then deposited the box into the glass drawer. The drawer slid forward; there lay box #7. "Astonishing!" I said.


    The manager smiled to himself.


    The necklace lay inside, just as when Anastasia put it there. The jewels sparkled brightly, the metal showed the same patina of our finest silver.


    I let out a breath, relieved. At least in this one thing Anastasia had spoken true. I ran my finger over the beautiful necklace then locked it away.


    ***


    When I exited the bank, Honor raised his hand to help me into the carriage, but I said, "I''ll be along shortly."


    "Yes, mum," Honor said, but I felt his eyes on me all the way down the block.


    The day was warm and pleasant, with a slight breeze, and I strolled along like everyone else on the promenade. I turned into The Bridges Daily''s offices, giving Honor a brief smile as I did so.


    The thin man in his thirties leaning over the counter reading a worn, dog-eared novel quickly straightened when I entered the shop. "Mrs. Spadros! How may we help you?"


    "I wish to place an ad for the Celebration program."


    "Right this way." The man led me past an array of busily typing men to an office. The glass-paneled door read:


    Mr. Paul Blackberry


    Clubb Desk


    Mr. Blackberry, a portly man with long graying sideburns, nodded to me as I entered. "Surprised to see you here. Must be important!" He gestured for me to sit across the desk from him. I noted the numerous faces of those pretending they had work to do which allowed them to pass by the large windows so they might peek in.


    "It is," I said. "What have you learned of Dame Anastasia?"


    He lit a cigar, and puffed on it. "The records aren''t all that clear back when she came here, but ¡ª"


    "What do you mean? Hasn''t she lived here her whole life?"


    "Goodness, no! She and her father, Sir Rounder Louis, arrived back in the late 40''s. From Chicago, if these reports are correct. Must have been a teenager, and from all accounts, she was a wild one." He grinned. "You would have liked her."


    I laughed.


    "She drank, smoked, ran off to the theater, even played a role ¡ª I''m sure you''ve heard of her stint as ''Queen of Diamonds'' ¡ª"


    I nodded. Trey said as much. I wondered why she never mentioned it. Trey certainly seemed proud of her.


    "¡ª and generally carried on like this for years. Her father was no help there; a notorious gambler and loan shark. Some say even his knighthood was a fable. But after a few years in Bridges they were seen at every Grand Ball, dining at all the Family parties. After a while she settled down and took up various amusements, all with hints of impropriety. From all accounts, though, she''s a good jeweler, or at least a successful businesswoman."


    "Whatever happened to her father Sir Louis?"


    "Up and disappeared one night. There were rumors of some scandal, and Dame Louis wore mourning garb for a while, but then she went on as before."


    "You make it sound unseemly."


    After putting on spectacles, he picked up a pile of ancient newspapers and set them on his desk, paging through them. "Seen with dozens of men," he peered over his spectacles at me, "young men, mind you ¡ª over the past thirty years. Sometimes several at once. Then there would be some uproar, and the faces would change."


    The men guarding her were indeed young.


    "And there''s something odd."


    I leaned forward. "What?"


    He rested his hands on the desk. "I''ve talked with several jewelers. She''s never been seen in person by one of them. Not at a convention, nor a workshop, nor even a showing."


    "That is indeed odd." I wondered what it meant.


    Then I remembered the faces at the window behind me and reached into my pocket, handing him a folded paper. "I''m supposedly here to place an ad for the Celebration program."


    He gazed at me, sympathy in his eyes. "I''m sorry, Jacqui. This must be a difficult time for you."


    A much thinner, much younger reporter in the Pot. The same bushy sideburns, only dark brown back then. "May I take your picture, miss?"


    I smiled. An easy mark, I thought. "Sure."


    Picture taken, I went to hug him, and picked his pocket.


    I shrugged. "No worse than any other." He never got angry, though he did ask for the wallet back. But I was only five; I got better at pickpocketing as time went on. "It''s good to see you, sir."


    "Let me walk you out," he said, rising, and came round to open the door for me, the faces outside scattering.


    I chuckled at that.


    We strolled through the sea of typists past Mr. Durak''s open door. The man lay face down on the floor.


    I rushed into his office, which stank of alcohol, and knelt beside him. The man was breathing, but slowly. Tear-stains streaked his brown face. His graying brown hair was disheveled, his collar, askew. I looked up at Mr. Blackberry. "Call a doctor."


    The faces outside the plate glass windows peered back at me, puzzled and concerned.


    Mr. Blackberry rushed out of the room, roaring, "Don''t you louts have anything to do? Get to work. You, call the doctor."


    I rolled Mr. Durak on his side should he be sick. Drunken men were a common sight back home in the Pot, but I never expected such here.


    Mr. Blackberry came in and shut the door. "How is he?"


    "Out cold." I settled back on my heels, holding Mr. Durak steady with my right hand. An empty bottle of whiskey lay on the floor under his desk. "What''s going on here?"


    The desk creaked as Mr. Blackberry settled on a corner. "Ah, my dear, his wife turned in her cards in the fall, and poor Acol''s not been the same since. Never wore mourning but a week. Comes in and leaves on schedule, but does little but drink. We forced him to go to your charity event; thought it would be good for him to get outside."


    "I had no idea." Seeing Mr. Durak ¡ª a solid and reliable man ¡ª in this terrible state seemed most unsettling. "I saw his interview with the banker. About the gems."


    Mr. Blackberry frowned. "Dame Anastasia set that up. The gals were all aflutter about the man she came in with. I never saw him." He gestured with his chin at Mr. Durak, who snored softly. "His secretary said he gave her the interview already dictated, but only he spoke."


    "Do you think he concocted it?"


    "I have no idea. If true, it''s suicidal, if you ask me." Mr. Blackberry put his hand to his chin. "A pity."


    I remembered our brief interaction at the charity event last month. Nothing seemed wrong. "Has he no children?"


    Mr. Blackberry shook his head. "His wife was incapable. His first wife died in childbirth, oh, back when I was a cub reporter, the babe along with her." He paused. "This time hit him hard."


    I had a sudden vision of Tony, alone and grieving, and I shook my head. "He deserves better."


    The doctor and his assistants came in then and we left the room so they could tend to Mr. Durak. Then Mr. Blackberry escorted me to the door.


    "Sir," I said, "make sure he''s taken care of."


    He nodded. "I''ll get him home and in bed once the doctor says he can be moved."


    "Thank you." I squeezed his hand, but close, so none saw it. "Dealer''s blessings with you."


    He smiled. "And also with you."


    Honor stood outside the door, relaxing when he glimpsed me. "Is all well, mum? I saw the doctor''s carriage."


    I strolled past, and he fell in step beside me. "A man took ill, but he''s being cared for."


    "Very well, mum. Spadros Manor?"


    "Yes, thank you."


    In the carriage, I shook my head. Anastasia (and likely, Frank) had dragged Mr. Durak into this scheme of hers ... or was it theirs? ... and used him to defraud the city.


    I wondered whose idea creating these false gems was. The little I knew of Frank Pagliacci indicated poor reasoning skills. Whether this came from lack of intelligence or carelessness, it was difficult to say. The process as described to me by Anastasia''s great-nephew Trey, though, spoke of a plot well-crafted. The factory and processing alone would have taken years to set up.


    Would Anastasia have planned the kidnappings, the attack on Tony, the false letters, the break-in at Madame''s shop? No. What possible motive might she have? By all appearances, she held regard for us, not hate. She had no reason to extract the sort of vengeance from us that Frank spoke of at Jack Diamond''s factory. And if she wished to harm us ¡ª or me in particular ¡ª she had only to say a word to the right ear.


    The horses trotted down the busy street, shops passing by as we went.


    There seemed to be more than one plot here. Jack and Frank were being directed by someone else. Anastasia had her simple yet ingenious scam, which might just work. Zia''s hopes were probably much like Anastasia''s: marriage, home, and family.


    Back then, I didn''t see any reason to care about Anastasia''s scam, other than concerns for the safety of anyone associated with Frank and Jack. So she defrauded some merchants. What was that to me? The fact that she involved Mr. Durak did upset me, especially her doing so while he grieved his wife.


    But I couldn''t understand the violence. What did whoever directed Jack Diamond and Frank Pagliacci stand to gain from that? What pushed this ringleader to move from breaking into a shop and causing a mess to kidnapping and murder?


    Jack Diamond in Spadros, harassing merchants and widows. What could cause him to do that, when he normally would have (by his reputation) simply murdered them? Frank Pagliacci strangling a grown man this time. Why change his targets?


    And why was the group so afraid of being revealed?


    None of this made any sense.


    We went over the bridge to Spadros quadrant. Sailboats passed under us, sending pale gray ripples over clear water.


    I suddenly remembered Roy''s letter to Tony:


    You must allow me to take over this interrogation to learn the truth of the matter.


    Tony never answered that letter. And when Roy learned that these men used our money to finance their schemes, he would be furious. He must have his men feverously searching for them.


    I laughed. Jack and Frank must be terrified! Being pursued by Roy Spadros would produce a crisis for anyone. No wonder they were trying to cover their tracks.


    Perhaps the tide had finally turned in our favor.

 Chapter 2: The Queen of Diamonds - Round 20: The Betrayal

    When I returned home, Pearson had a letter for me:


    I have news. ¡ª JB


    JB had to be Jake Bower, the investigator I hired to learn about Jack Diamond''s movements since New Year''s.


    I poured a glass of bourbon and lit a cigarette. The thought of going to meet Mr. Bower made me weary. All I wanted was a few days to rest, to forget about Mad Jack Diamond and his deranged ruffian Frank Pagliacci. Which seemed unlikely to happen.


    Where could Frank Pagliacci be? Besides Anastasia, none of my other informants had any word of him. Clearly he hadn''t fled the city. Was Jack hiding him? Jack had taken to his rooms; might Frank be hiding there also?


    No. With Jack and Rachel ill and Jon out of the house, Julius wouldn''t allow a stranger to stay with them. Gardena would have said something about a visitor, especially one as badly injured as Frank must have been. And I couldn''t see Jonathan allowing a stranger to go to their Country House.


    Why did Julius put up with Jack''s behavior? That was another mystery. He had to know that ...


    Wait, I thought. Jack, by all accounts, was as fearsome a creature as Roy Spadros. Perhaps Julius used his son''s madness to keep order in the city, or to frighten the other Families from acting against them. It was the sort of sly move that wouldn''t surprise me, coming from a Patriarch.


    These men were utterly ruthless when it came to controlling their territories. But could a man stoop to betraying his son, exposing his son''s malady just to promote his own schemes?


    ***


    I got my "rest" after all. For two days, Tony was entrenched in his study with an unassuming young man who I presumed was the accountant he hired. Even though engaged, Tony came out every half hour to ask me some question or another. The constant interruptions were maddening; I could go nowhere and got little done, other than my weekly kitchen inventory with the maids.


    But then Tony went back to the casino. Dr. Salmon came to check on Morton ¡ª the first time he visited since Morton''s arrival without Tony or one of his men hovering.


    After the doctor visited Morton, I asked if we might speak privately. We went to my room, and sat at the tea-table.


    "I hope all is well?"


    I said nothing.


    "My dear, something is wrong, or you wouldn''t have asked for me. Please, I want to help you."


    "Sir, I believe you have betrayed me."


    Dr. Salmon''s lined face grew pale, and his eyes widened.


    "I asked you to keep silent about Roy Spadros and his attack on me. I specifically asked you not to tell my husband, yet you did. I trusted you not to notify Roy about the attack on my husband, yet somehow he knew. You report to my husband. You report to Mr. Roy. Who else do you report to? How can I trust you with anything?"


    Dr. Salmon''s voice shook. "I''m your doctor. I report to no one. I didn''t tell Mr. Roy about the assault, I swear."


    I realized: this man is old. And deeply afraid.


    "Mr. Anthony beat me," he whispered.


    Tony did what?


    He spoke as if to himself, his eyes empty. "I brought him to this world, and his father before him ¡ª yet he beat me. He so fiercely wanted to learn what had befallen you that I feared for my life." He paused. "He swore no harm would come to you." He leaned forward, peering at me. "Has he hurt you?"


    Tony beat Dr. Salmon. I turned away, shame flooding over me. "No."


    If I would have told Tony that Roy hit me, this would never have happened. But I felt so afraid ... of Roy hurting Tony, of Tony asking why Roy would hit me ... which would lead to telling him of my failure with Thrace Pike last month. That was humiliating enough without Tony going into a frenzy about it. "I''m so sorry. This is all my fault."


    Dr. Salmon didn''t speak for some time, and when he did, he sounded sincere. "I wish I knew how to help."


    Find me a way out of this city? All I could hope for at this point was to get my mother to safety.


    But there was something he might help with. "Doctor, may I ask something unrelated?"


    "Of course."


    "Mrs. Rachel Diamond. Do you know of her case?"


    He nodded. "Mr. Julius Diamond sought counsel from every doctor in the city before his father died."


    "Can anything be done for her?"


    The doctor shook his head. "She''s suffered electrocution of the brain. There''s little to be done in such cases."


    Something occurred to me. "They were working on a machine, trying to put their brain patterns into it when the accident occurred. Do you imagine her thoughts might be in the machine still?"


    Dr. Salmon burst out in laughter. "Oh, my dear, your mind is exquisite. You should take up the writing of fantastical novels! Such a thing is absurd." But then his face sobered. "No, Mrs. Diamond is gravely injured, and has been for some time. I''m sorry. I doubt she''ll ever recover."


    I felt somewhat embarrassed, as well as sad. I remembered Gardena''s grief, and her mother Rachel, a beautiful woman who used to be an Apprentice, trying to eat lamb with a spoon. "I just hoped ... that maybe ... she might get well."


    ***


    The doctor released Morton to do light reading and stroll in the garden, which he felt anxious to do. I accompanied him, just to get a chance to plan what to do next about Frank Pagliacci.


    Since our discussion up in Morton''s room, Tony seemed to regard him as one of his men. Yet Tony and Sawbuck had been in meetings at least once a day without either of us, to what end, Tony didn''t say.


    "I feel," Morton said, "that your husband doesn''t trust me."


    The sun shone pale and wan through the clouds, yet the day was warm. I carried a parasol, but doubted I would need it. "Does it matter?"


    He glanced back at Amelia and her daughters, who "by coincidence" were out strolling that day. "I suppose not."


    We walked a foot apart and in plain view of the house. What did Pearson think was going to happen? "Why did you leave us, there at the factory?"


    Morton let out a breath. "There were so many men, and they thought you were no threat. I reasoned that if I drew them off, you and the boy might escape."


    "But why take the carriage?"


    He seemed confused. "I was hurt; you were unharmed. If I tried to hire a taxi, the driver would insist on taking me to a doctor, and the police would have been called. The boy needed attention in any case, and I felt certain you had someone you might bring him to who would be discreet."


    I nodded. True, every word. "I''m sorry to doubt you. I ... I don''t think I was doing much reasoning at the time."


    Morton smiled. "You did fine."


    "There''s one other thing. Why did you use that story about Helen Hart? It''s come to cause me trouble."


    He turned to me. "In what way?"


    "A mutual friend heard the story. Mrs. Hart was extremely ill, and could never have been out boating."


    "Oh," Morton said, chagrined. "I had no idea. My apologies. It seemed the best plan under the circumstances."


    "Well," I said, "I''ve taken care of it." I still felt annoyed, but even Josie said the matter was kept secret. I took a deep breath and let it out. "What are your plans?"


    "I have a choice: to stay or go. Which I do depends on your husband. I have nowhere to go now that my yacht is destroyed. I dare not return home; I''m sure it''s being watched. My plan is to stay as long as I can and see what I can learn of who''s betrayed me to the Feds."


    "What of Zia?"


    He snorted. "Zia." He shook his head. "She is, of course, the most likely candidate, yet has no motive."


    I then told him the details of my encounter with her, and her defense of Frank Pagliacci. I had forgotten about it up to this point, what with all that had gone on.


    Morton shook his head. "I''ve never known Zia to be enamored of men. She''s always seemed too shrewd, too skeptical, too distrusting of their motives." He paused. "But perhaps this man has fooled her."


    It certainly seemed that way. She spoke like a woman in love, whose lover was being falsely accused in a way too vile for her to imagine. "Zia''s not your maid, and I can''t believe a sister would ever be so false. What is she to you, really?"


    He looked away. "For a while, she was my employer. Then my ¡ª I suppose the best term would be business partner. Now?" He shrugged. "I don''t know whether it would be better for her to be dead or alive. I can''t prove she lives, but she''s disappeared after telling the Feds I attacked her."


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    I stared at him in horror. "Zia was a Federal Agent?"


    He nodded. "I wish I never met her; she''s betrayed me, and possibly them as well. Now I''m hunted."


    Anger rose in me, and chagrin. I had her on the ground and I let her get away! "If I knew she was a Fed, I would''ve killed her the day we fought and saved everyone the trouble."


    Morton flinched, but said nothing.


    "How is it that you joined the employ of ... were partnered with ... a Federal Agent?"


    He kept his eyes on the ground as we walked. "I''ve known Zia for some time. She was known to my family and came from the same city as my parents. She inherited a great deal of money and hired me to do some work for her. We''ve worked together ever since." He paused. "She would leave for long periods of time, and her explanations of what happened were incomplete. Perhaps this was when she did her work for them."


    I always pictured Feds as grim-faced men in dark spectacles, not as a pretty young woman with red hair who threw sand when cornered. "I''m stunned."


    "You might imagine what I felt."


    We walked along for a while, the laughter of Amelia''s children far behind. Her kiss on his cheek, his obvious distress when he realized she was in danger, his reaction when I spoke of killing her ... "Did you love her?"


    He snorted. "Hardly. As I said, she ever distrusted men''s motives, and regarded me more as a nuisance than anything else." He paused. "Don''t misunderstand me; I enjoy the company and charms of women as much as the next man. But I''ve never wished to be tied to one. I prefer to go where I please, and when."


    I felt much the same way.


    We approached a table and chairs set up under an arbor, and we sat. "And what of your employer? Your Red Dog trey?" I felt concerned about Clover, the young "ace" with the eye-patch, and the other boy, like Stephen, the "chip" who I had never met.


    Morton shrugged. "Clover''s a smart boy, although you wouldn''t know it from talking to him. When Stephen was murdered and I went on the run, we met up once ¡ª for me to send your dress ¡ª and I told him to lay low for a while. He got his friends together, all on his own, and sent messages to every harbor to watch for me. One of those friends brought me here." He leaned his elbows on his knees, and gazed far away. "Saved my life." He straightened. "As far as my employer, he can go to the Fire for all I care. I think he knew Zia was false, and set me up to fail. I mean to find out why."


    When we returned to the house, Pearson told me three letters had arrived. The first was a double-sealed letter with a silver-edged white envelope and the Diamond Family''s symbol traced in silver on the flap. It read:


    My dear Mrs. Spadros ¡ª


    It is my pleasure to inform you that the matter we discussed earlier has been confirmed. Never fear: I did not give particulars to the gentlemen involved. Please advise your friend to go to the poorhouse outside the Spadros Pot at 10 pm on the last day of the month. Our mutual friend plans to send a carriage.


    Most affectionately yours,


    Gardena Diamond


    I chuckled. So this was Gardena''s idea of secrecy. No matter; the seals seemed untouched.


    I tossed it in the fire and rang for Pearson.


    He opened the door. "Yes, mum?"


    "When did Mr. Spadros say he would return?"


    Pearson checked a notebook in his pocket. "For dinner, mum."


    Perfect. "Then I''d like to go down to Madame Biltcliffe''s and pick up my Spring gown. I''ll need it for the Celebration."


    "I can send someone to get it if you like."


    "No need; I''d like to go on a ride. It''s such lovely weather. I should be back in time for tea."


    Indeed, the day had turned overcast and chill. But Pearson only said, "Yes, mum," and turned to leave.


    "Pearson, did you ever learn when Mrs. Molly is ''at home''?"


    "Yes, mum. Every day, it seems. Forgive me, the matter must have slipped my mind."


    It was unusual for anything to slip Pearson''s mind. "Thank you." I turned my attention to the third letter. Also from Gardena, it invited me to luncheon on the 1st of March. This must be when we were to meet with her blackmailer. As long as I was back in time to dress for the Celebration, I didn''t think Tony would mind.


    I still needed to see Molly in order to learn why Tony never knew of my lessons. But did I really want to go to Spadros Castle?


    In the five years since it was built, we had never been invited there. Part of me wanted to visit simply out of curiosity, but the thought of facing Roy Spadros in his home gave me pause.


    Perhaps there was another way. I took out paper and pen.


    My dear Mrs. Spadros ¡ª


    I hope you are well.


    I did indeed hope she was well. Her husband Roy had a habit of hurting her when angry.


    I hope to have the pleasure of your company for tea at the Spadros Women''s Club the Twenty-Seventh of February.


    Yours very truly,


    Jacqueline


    I gave the letter to Pearson on my way out.


    Molly was "at home" every day? Did she never go calling? I remembered my lonely days "at home," waiting for callers, and began to regret never visiting her.


    Perhaps this social call business had merit after all.


    When I entered Madame''s shop, neither Madame nor any other customers were there. Tenni stood behind the counter. "May I help you, mum?"


    "Yes, I believe you are exactly the one who might help. I want to speak with a messenger boy."


    Tenni blinked. "But ... why come here?"


    "I have a message which can''t be written."


    "Oh." After pausing for several seconds, she said, "I know just the boy you want."


    She went out front and waved a messenger boy over, then bent to speak with him. She came inside. "He''s going to get him."


    "Very well. I wanted to pick up my Spring gown, too."


    Tenni smiled. "I''ll box it up for you."


    While she was doing that, Honor stood out front, squinting in my direction.


    "Is Madame not here today?"


    "She''s preparing her fees, mum. For January. Your men will be here in a few days to collect their packet."


    I forgot the realities of life for businesses here in Bridges. Late payment of Family fees had unfortunate consequences. "Has Madame done any sketches of my Summer dress?"


    "Oh, yes," Tenni said. "Come this way."


    She led me to a table near the front windows filled with sketch books and opened a thick one with my name on the front. She flipped to a page.


    "Very nice," I said. I glanced up; Honor watched me. I waved at him; his face reddened and he turned away. "I think I''ll page through this for a while until the boy arrives."


    "Yes, mum."


    A few customers came and went. After an hour, the boy returned with three others. The smallest was about nine, with white-blond hair and blue eyes, wearing a bright red jacket. Two older boys stood with him.


    "Tenni, bring the boys to the counter."


    "Yes, mum."


    I brought the sketch book to the counter as well, about a yard away from the boys. The various mannequins, racks, and displays hid me from Honor''s view. "Hello," I said once the door closed behind them, "are you a boy who can remember things?"


    The little boy nodded. "I''m a Memory Boy, mum. That''s why I wear the red jacket. I remember everything."


    What an adorable child. "What''s your name, sweetie?"


    "Werner Lead."


    I glanced at the large windows: Honor was nowhere in sight. "Well, Werner ... I want you to say this: T? zami ?¨¦ isit. K¨¦k¨¨nn ol¨¦ chu¨¦ twa. Mo konn¨¦ komen ¨¦d¨¦ twa kit¨¦ lavil. Va kot¨¦ lam¨¦zon moun pov a diz ¨¨r. T''al¨¦ trouv¨¦ in bogg¨¦ l¨¢ pou twa. Mo linm twa ¨¦ mo sa l¨¢ ak twa kan posib."


    This was Kour¨ª-Vin¨ª, the language we spoke at home, just me and Ma. I didn''t know anyone else who spoke it. "Do you think you can remember that?"


    The boy repeated it perfectly.


    I beckoned him over and whispered, "To Fanny Kaplan at the Cathedral, Spadros Pot. Okay?"


    He looked up at me with his big innocent eyes. "I need extra to go there."


    I smiled and handed him a dollar. "Okay. Will this do?"


    He grinned at me.


    "The men are big and scary there, but they won''t hurt you." I gestured to Tenni. "Return here with the answer."


    "Yes, mum," Werner said. "Thank you, mum."


    I said to the older boys, "You take good care of him."


    They nodded. "Yes, mum, we will," and hurried out.


    I put a sixpence on the sketch book then slid it across the counter to Tenni. "Thank you." I picked up my dress box.


    "I''ll send word when they return, mum."


    When I went out to the carriage, Honor peered at me with a puzzled expression but said nothing.


    Later, I watched Amelia fuss over my new dress. Would Werner get to my Ma and back safely? The adults wouldn''t harm him in the Pot. But he had to get to the Pot, and children on both sides of that wrought-iron fence ignored convention.


    The two older boys will look after him, I thought.


    At dinner, I felt anxious, wanting to hear of the boy''s safe return, of Ma''s answer, something.


    Tony said, "Is anything wrong? You''ve hardly eaten."


    I laughed in spite of myself. What wasn''t going wrong in my life? "No, I''m fine."


    "I hear you went to pick up your Spring dress today."


    I''m sure you did. "Yes, and I saw some sketches of my Summer dress. Madame was occupied, so I''ll probably go back in a day or so to choose between them." The mashed potatoes were delicious. "She really has done a wonderful job."


    Tony gave me an amused smile. "I remember when you first came here. They had to throw your clothes away, they were so torn and filthy ¡ª"


    Morton glanced up from his meal, a question in his eyes, and I felt mortified. After they stripped them from me without so much as an if-you-please ... they were all I had.


    "¡ª and now ... I''m glad you get to wear pretty things."


    That sentiment, coming from Tony, surprised me, cooled my anger. When I considered the matter, it seemed amusing. Even as a child during the lean times, when I would have killed for bread, fine clothes meant nothing to me. Warm clothes, now ... a different story. But once I spent my nights fed and in warmth, fancy dresses did garner a certain appeal. "Thank you; I appreciate them."


    Tony gazed at me from the other end of our long dinner table for several seconds. "You deserve beautiful things. Those rags were what you had, I know, but they weren''t worthy of you."


    Why was he saying these things in front of Blaze Rainbow? "Thank you."


    Tony drained his wine glass, set it down. A maid hurried to refill it. "I wish you saw yourself the way I see you."


    This interested me. "And how is that?"


    "To me, you''re the most beautiful woman in the world."


    I chuckled. Was Tony drunk? "I''m sure Master Rainbow is embarrassed by such talk."


    Morton laughed softly. "Men in love are all alike. You''re a very fortunate woman."


    Interesting. "Have you ever been in love, Master Rainbow?"


    He picked up his wine glass. "Can''t say that I have. From what I''ve observed, it usually doesn''t turn out well."


    I laughed.


    "Well," Tony said, "I plan to be the exception." He rose, and came round to my side. "Now if you''ll excuse us ¡ª"


    Morton grinned. "By all means."


    The doorbell rang.


    "Now who could that be at this hour?" Tony seemed more than a little annoyed.


    "I''ll get it, sir," Pearson called out, and the door opened.


    Tony said, "I''ll see what this is about," and went off around the corner. He came back a few minutes later, a perplexed look on his face. "Mrs. Spadros, there''s a child here to see you."


    I rose and hurried past him to the front door.


    Little Werner Lead and the two older boys stood on the front porch. Werner brightened when he saw me. "She said okay."


    "What?"


    "The message. She said okay. I asked if that was all, and she said yes."


    My mother hadn''t seen me, hadn''t even tried to get a message to me in six years. When I got a message to her that her life was in danger, all she said was, "okay"?


    I woke at the pain in my scalp. I grabbed the hand pulling my hair as I fell hard to the floor.


    Ma yelled, "After all I told you, why did you go after him? You could have had another year, maybe two. We could have gotten you out of here. You stupid girl! You''ve ruined everything!" She yanked me to my feet, dragging me by my arm to the carriage, shoving me inside.


    I didn''t know any of the women in there. "Ma!" I felt terrified. What was happening?


    Ma shook her head as if disgusted at me and went inside without saying goodbye.


    Didn''t she even care enough about me to send a message? "What made you come here?"


    Werner smiled. "The shop was closed. I saw you in the paper on New Year''s. I know everyone''s address in the city." One of the boys behind him laughed, as if they hadn''t known that but weren''t surprised by it. He turned to Tony. "Hello, Mr. Spadros."


    Tony stammered, "H ¡ª hello." Then he gained his composure. "I''ve never met a Memory Boy before."


    Werner held out his little hand. "Werner Lead. A pleasure to meet you." He turned to me. "I better get home." He started down the steps.


    "How can we get in touch if we need your services again?" Tony said.


    Werner gestured towards the messenger booth down the street. "They all know me," he said, and the three of them disappeared in the gloom.


    "How remarkable!" Morton said, from behind us.


    "We must recruit that child," Tony said. He turned to me. "Where did you find him?"


    "The girl at Madame''s shop knew him," I said.


    Tony nodded. "Very good." He went back inside and to his study, presumably to make plans for what he might do while using the boy''s services.


    Morton and I returned to the table.


    "Some bourbon, please, Mary." I felt relieved that the boy got to Ma and back safely with the message, but I wished I had the opportunity to ask Werner more about her.


    Mary turned to Morton. "Would you like anything else, sir?"


    "No, thank you."


    She turned and left.


    "Looks like you dodged a bullet there," Morton said.


    "What do you mean?"


    Morton leaned his elbows on the table. "It doesn''t take an Inventor to see you don''t love the man."


    I thought of Mary, and Tony, and the vent below us. "That''s rather impertinent, Master Rainbow. Not to mention untrue."


    He shrugged. "I''ve never been known to mince words. And as you''ll next tell me, it''s none of my business."


    "So why say it?" I feigned a laugh, feeling uneasy. "Next you''ll be telling me you can take me away from all this."


    Morton snorted. "I got cured of that nonsense long ago." Mary brought in my bourbon, then left. "No, you''ll do what you need to when you''re good and ready." He leaned back. "I just hope too many people don''t get hurt in the meantime."


    His words angered me. ¡°You won¡¯t enjoy working for Roy.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    I spoke softly. ¡°One day soon, you¡¯ll be given an offer you can¡¯t refuse. A loved one¡¯s location. A secret you¡¯d rather not be revealed,¡± I studied Morton, but he never moved, ¡°and I wager you¡¯ll become Roy¡¯s creature, just like most other members of this household. And if you refuse ....¡± Or more likely, from what I¡¯d seen so far, run. ¡°Coming here will probably be what kills you.¡±


    Morton said nothing.


    I really didn''t want to talk with him anymore, so I went to Tony''s study. He lay asleep on his sofa, an empty wine glass on the floor beside him. I rang for Tony''s manservant, and we got him into his bed. But I pondered Morton''s words later that night. It bothered me that I was so transparent.


    Perhaps this was why Sawbuck suspected me.

 Chapter 2: The Queen of Diamonds - Round 21: The Records

    The next morning, I decided to have our staff outing at the Spadros Country House. With Jane''s help, I began coordinating preparations with the housekeeper there. Tony was gone much of the time, and I considered using the target range on my own, but there never seemed to be a good time for it. Like when Tony was engaged with the accountant, Jane had many questions for me, and tasks which only I could do.


    I wasn''t able to get to Jake Bower''s office until a few days later. This time I wore Madame Biltcliffe''s mourning garb. Mr. Bower stared at me for several heartbeats, then hurried me inside, alarm on his face. "That veil''s much too thin. I''ve never seen your face plainly, yet I recognized you from your portraits. If you plan to continue this, you''ll need a better disguise."


    Feigning amusement, I pulled the veil away from my face. He regarded me, then let out a laugh.


    "What is it?"


    "I recalled our last meeting. At the time, I thought you might be a Hart. Now ¡ª"


    I leaned forward. "Why do you think so?"


    He sat back, hand to his chin, and his eyes narrowed. Then he shook his head. "I don''t know, but it was my first thought. The shape of your eyes, the color of your hair. The way you move. How you phrase things." He paused. "Who are your parents?"


    "Fanny Kaplan of the Spadros Pot gave me birth. Peedro Sluff claims to be my father, but ¡ª"


    He gaped at me. "You''re Peedro Sluff''s daughter?"


    I gave a bitter laugh. "As I said, he claims this." Peedro showed no love for me. For all I knew, he claimed I was his daughter to buy his way out of the Pot. But something in Mr. Bower''s tone of voice made me curious. "Why? Who is he to you?"


    Mr. Bower took a deep breath. "Peedro Sluff was once the finest marksman in Bridges." He glanced away. "It''s a long, unpleasant story."


    I leaned back. "I''m in no hurry. And he has never been one to suffer questions."


    Mr. Bower snorted. "No, he never was, even then."


    "So you knew him well."


    "Yes," he said, "once, I did."


    I heard this story many times before as I played outside the tan linen curtains in my mother''s brothel. A police officer tasked to infiltrate a group of Party Time users, who then became addicted. Yet I sat in astonishment at the thought of my father being talented at anything.


    The brown-haired man dashed towards us several blocks away, shouting urgently.


    Peedro Sluff froze uncertainly as Daniel raced towards them. Then Peedro whipped out a revolver from behind his belt and fired, the motion smoother than I could ever have imagined.


    My father could only have been acting as an assassin. Even deeply intoxicated, that night he shot steady and true. But who was his original target? Was it Roy, or someone else?


    Daniel was no threat. If Roy had been Peedro''s target, then my father betrayed someone. Someone powerful enough to feel he might survive the consequences of killing Roy, yet too frightened to do the deed himself. By shooting Daniel instead, Peedro angered both the Diamonds and whoever hired him to kill Roy.


    "Sluff became more wretched with every month, until one day he disappeared. I thought him dead." Mr. Bower seemed more disturbed than glad to learn Peedro still lived.


    Something in his tone warned me not to ask further questions on that topic. "Your letter said you had news?"


    "I do." He glanced away, took a deep breath and let it out. "The workers at the plant told me they saw a man with a gun, and fled in terror. Jack Diamond came to help them."


    I leaned forward. "Are you sure?"


    "I spoke with several of them," he said. "Of course, that helps little. I had to pay them a great deal before they would even talk to me."


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Something wasn''t right here. "See what else you can learn."


    He gave me a shrewd look. "Might you be interested in other information? I know you were against learning about the rest of the Diamonds, but I did stumble across an interesting item ¡ª"


    "What is it in regards to?"


    "Your family, if I may be so bold."


    My family? Ma? What could he possibly be talking about? "Would you care to be more specific?"


    "Not without additional payment, since you forbade me undertake this investigation."


    "Can you at least give me the type of information you''re speaking of?"


    "Financial records, for one."


    "Financial records. For one." The way he said it made me think he had much more. "Involving both the Spadros Family and the Diamonds. But not Master Jack?"


    He nodded. "Not Master Jack."


    I leaned back and opened Madame Biltcliffe''s fan. "What price would you put on such dry, tedious fare as financial records?"


    Mr. Bower relaxed. "Ah, but the nature of financial records is anything but tedious. Who paid who, and for what, and why ¡ª and how often. These are all fascinating subjects, or could be, to the right mind." He paused. "For example, I could spin a scenario with these records which you would find most interesting."


    I snorted. "Indeed. The right mind might put unsavory spin on a great many deeds."


    He gave me a sad gaze. "You don''t trust me."


    I shrugged. "Should I?" While I appreciated the information about my father, I had learned through bitter experience to trust no one associated with him.


    Mr. Bower said nothing.


    This was ridiculous. "You call me here at great risk to my person, yet bring me little information, and that unusable. Then you try to gain further monies from me by making innuendo. I''m sorry if I don''t find this conversation diverting."


    He leaned forward. "I''m trying to help you. I like you. You seem sincere. I fear you''re with associates who are anything but." He paused. "You won''t like what I''ve found."


    Interesting, and not in a good way. "I hope you understand my dilemma. I truly can''t pay you anything further. While I have a wealthy Family, I''m not privy to their coffers ¡ª"


    "But you might parlay this information into a great deal of money for yourself."


    A great deal of money? This sparked interest for maybe a second, but something warned me against it. "¡ª and I find I fear what you might have to say."


    He nodded slowly, his eyes evaluating me. "Then we''ll speak no more of it."


    I didn''t like this. "How do I know you won''t sell this information to someone else?"


    He gave me a wry grin. "Who would care about such dry, tedious matters as financial records?"


    Who indeed. I closed the fan, tapping it on my chin. "All I need do is notify my father-in-law. Roy Spadros would be most unhappy if information were spread about his Family."


    Mr. Bower turned ashen. "I meant no offense, madam." He stared at me in horror for a moment. Then his eyes narrowed, color returned to his face, and he spoke with determination. "I must protect my interests and charge fair price."


    "I would need to see this information to know what a fair price was."


    "But then once seen, I no longer have sole possession of it. You might even refuse to pay, yet how could I retrieve it? You must understand my dilemma."


    "That dilemma is yours, sir, not mine. I will pay nothing for unseen information." I rose, but fear gnawed at my midsection. "I trust if you learn anything further about Master Diamond that you will inform me at once."


    He bowed. "I am at your service, madam."


    Repositioning my veil, I went out into the Plaza and wandered, not considering where.


    Jake Bower had information about the Spadros Family he shouldn''t have. Yet my words to him were a bluff, and he knew it. For me to inform anyone, I would have to reveal how I got the information, when I got it, and that I had lied to my husband to even meet with Mr. Bower. Alone. Unescorted, and all that.


    I didn''t understand Tony''s obsession with my reputation, or with my safety. It seemed excessive, stifling. I could see why he might want me to be safe. But everyone knew I was a Pot rag ¡ª how could they possibly think more poorly of me than that?


    I sat on a bench. I had to think.


    My reaction to Mr. Bower''s news about Jack Diamond bothered me. I had learned to trust my instincts and reactions on cases; they seldom proved wrong.


    But what reason did Mr. Bower have to lie? He put himself into terrible danger even talking to workers at Jack''s factory. One word from a worker and Jack Diamond might turn his attention to Mr. Bower himself. I began to regret my harsh words to the man. Perhaps he was just trying to help.


    What about Mr. Bower''s secret information? His words made no sense to me. What kind of financial information could Bower possibly have?


    A mother and three small children passed by, and glancing up at them, I noted I sat in front of Pike and Associates. Going inside, I asked for Thrace Pike, and was sent up at once. "What do you know of your grandfather''s associate Mr. Jake Bower?"


    Thrace Pike still wore his same suit; I felt amazed that it still held together. He shrugged. "I''ve never met the man. All I know is what I''ve heard."


    "Which is?"


    "He''s a good investigator, cunning, and gets information no one else seems able to. He worked with the police at one time, but they had some sort of falling-out and he now despises them."


    I nodded. I didn''t know what happened with Mr. Bower''s wife, but it seemed to cause him pain.


    I felt Mr. Pike watching me; he blushed and glanced away. "Why are you here, Mrs. Spadros?"


    "Mr. Bower has said things to indicate he has information which could cause harm. It frightens me. If he were to tell anyone I went to him, a blow to my face would be the least of my troubles." I gazed into his eyes. "I didn''t know where else to turn."


    Mr. Pike straightened. "You were right to come to me." He paused. "Has he threatened you?"


    "No. He said he wished to help me, that he had financial information which could bring me a great deal of money, but ¡ª"


    At the word money, Mr. Pike blanched.


    "What is it?"


    He shook his head. "My thoughts are horrendous; I dare not speak of it. If I were wrong ¡ª" He appeared to undergo some great internal struggle. Finally, he said, "No. I will not make such accusation of any man. Not even ¡ª no. Not without proof." Whatever his thoughts were, they distressed him greatly.


    What could he possibly be thinking of? "What should I do?"


    He paused for several seconds, then he came to a decision. "Leave the matter to me. I will find these records. No one will harm you, I shall make sure of that."

 Chapter 2: The Queen of Diamonds - Round 22: The Ambush

    At the Spadros Women''s Club, white stone steps with black wrought iron banisters led up to a black door with silver knobs. A man in black and silver Spadros livery opened the door for me.


    Inside, the Women''s Club was paneled in piano black and trimmed in silver, with silver-gray carpeting. At the black podium, a man in Spadros livery stood, glancing up when I approached. "Welcome, Mrs. Spadros, your family awaits."


    My family? The invitation was for Molly.


    Perhaps she brought Tony''s little sister Katherine with her. While I liked Katie, what I wanted to discuss wasn''t really suitable for a thirteen year old girl to hear. Perhaps I could find a way to distract her.


    Or bore her. Even better. That''d be sure to make her want to leave the table, if not to go outside and see the gardens.


    I smiled to myself as I followed the man to one of the private areas, curtained in diaphanous white.


    Molly, Katherine, and Roy Spadros sat around the table, rising when I entered.


    Fear, outrage, and confusion struck me, all at once: How did Roy get in here? The Club was only for women!


    Then I realized: Who would dare to tell Roy Spadros he couldn''t come in?


    As ever, Tony''s father Roy stared out at me through dead eyes of blue ice. The light shone on the snow-white strands in his black hair. "Good to see you, Jacq."


    Molly smiled warmly and held out her hand, which I touched briefly. Why didn''t she warn me he would be here?


    Katherine said, "Jacqui!" She hugged me around my waist, her face in the top of my corset. "I''m so happy to see you!" Katherine Spadros had auburn hair and bright blue eyes. Her hair was pulled away from her face, a fresh rose caught up in it.


    The attendant held my chair, and I sat, quite mindful that my back was to the curtain. "What an unexpected surprise."


    Maids entered, pouring tea, bringing sandwiches. The private areas were as large as my private dressing room at Madame Biltcliffe''s shop, with plenty of room for the servants to move about. But today, their movements were jerky, hesitant.


    Once the maids were done, Roy waved them off and peered at me. "What do you want to know?"


    He did tend to get to the point, but even so his abruptness startled me. "I beg your pardon?"


    "You''ve never asked my wife to tea before. That you would do so now, after your argument with my son about ''teaching you to shoot'' ¡ª"


    Alarm spiked through me. One of our servants, listening at the door, reported our private conversation to Roy?


    Roy let out a mocking laugh. "It suggests to me you might have something you want to know."


    Katherine had filled her plate with cucumber sandwiches, and was happily removing the cucumber from each of them.


    "I suppose it does bring up a few questions."


    Molly smiled. "We mean you no harm, my dear."


    So she was in on this? Roy didn''t force her to keep his visit here a secret? But they meant me no harm. "Why can''t Tony know about my lessons? He''s so concerned for my safety."


    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Molly sighed. "He''s always been anxious, the poor dear. And I suppose for good reason." She glanced at Roy, who didn''t meet her eye. "It just seemed for the best."


    They coddled Tony. They didn''t believe in him. They didn''t believe he could handle the truth.


    When he learned of it he would be furious. It would make him feel so disrespected. And it would hurt, especially coming from his mother. And by extension, from me. I shook my head. "This ... you can''t keep this secret forever."


    Roy smirked. "Certainly we can. Who would dare tell him. You?" He paused. "Now that you know we wish you not to? Why in the world would you do that? With the cathedral so close at hand. It''s just a short drive away." A sly grin crossed his face. "I bet you''d like to see your mother, wouldn''t you?"


    I stared at him in horror. "No."


    Molly frowned. "Roy, dear ¡ª"


    Roy ignored her. "Surely after all these years, you want to see her? Just for a few days, perhaps? I could invite her over for some entertainment ¡ª I''d even let you watch."


    Katie had made a pile of the cucumbers. She held a slice of cucumber in one hand and the salt shaker in the other. She ate the slices one at a a time, salting each slice before she ate it.


    She had no idea what her father meant. I forced myself to smile, to keep my voice light. "That won''t be necessary."


    Roy waved to someone behind me, and a maid came in. He gestured to her to come close, and she stood beside him as if he made her skin crawl. Katie watched her.


    "My dear," Roy spoke as if we were discussing the weather, "Let''s get one thing very clear. This Family is mine. This quadrant and every person in it is mine. The dress you''re wearing. Even that desk you love so much. All mine, to do with as I wish." He reached up to the maid, who stood trembling, head down, face pale, and patted her cheek. "Right?"


    "Yes, sir," she mumbled, eyes filled with terror.


    He smiled, a real smile this time. "Very nice." He dropped his hand to his side. "You may go now."


    "Yes, sir," the girl said, and rushed out.


    Katie''s face was pale, "Mama, may I go out to the garden?"


    "Yes, dear," Molly said. "Don''t pick any of the flowers."


    "Jacqui," Katie said warily, not looking at her father, "do you want to go with me?"


    Roy said, "We''re not done talking yet."


    Katie looked between us; I nodded at her, giving her a small smile. "Okay, Daddy." She hurried out.


    Once she was gone, Roy said, "And you are not to interfere with the boy."


    For a second, I felt confused. What boy?


    Molly''s cheeks flushed, and she glanced away.


    Suddenly, it all made sense. What happened to Amelia, what no one wanted to tell me: Pip Dewey was Roy''s son. "You unspeakable bastard." He knew Amelia abused Pip yet he wanted it to continue. It wasn''t enough to violate and terrorize Amelia. He tried to torture his own child! "You push the boy too far. If he takes his own life, he''ll be no fun to you."


    Roy stared at me, unmoving, practicality trumping whim. "Damn you," he muttered. "Fine." He sounded annoyed, but seemed secretly pleased with me.


    Oh, gods. Poor Amelia.


    Roy let out a short ironic laugh. "I suppose we''re done with lessons. Unless there''s something else you''d like to know."


    I might as well ask. "I''d like to learn to hit moving targets."


    The surprise which flashed through his eyes made me almost think Roy Spadros was human. "Hmm. The Gentleman''s Club has moving targets, but I can''t bring you there. So you must move. I''ll instruct the men to allow you to use your target range."


    "I suppose I should feel grateful for that."


    He studied me for a long moment, and I felt afraid of what my request might have told him.


    Roy must have threatened Amelia into carrying the child. This was what Peter meant when he said they thought they might be safer at Spadros Manor. They must feel trapped.


    I might not get another chance to ask, Roy in a good mood and all. And another question might distract him. "How did you learn of the ambush on my husband and his men?"


    Roy hesitated.


    "Please, sir, I must know. My husband believes there are more spies in our household." Besides yours. Did Tony know his men''s first loyalty was to Roy?


    He sat still for a moment. "After we visited, I received a letter. An anonymous letter, mind you, so I questioned the boy ¡ª"


    I gasped.


    Roy let out a short laugh. "I have better things to do than play with messengers. I merely asked whence came the letter. A black-haired young woman with pale skin is all the child knew."


    A black-haired woman? Molly had black hair, but a boy would hardly call her young.


    He shrugged. "When I sent men to the address the boy said he received the letter from, they found the building abandoned."


    I nodded. "A taunt from our enemy." I rubbed my forehead. "How many do these scoundrels command?"


    He snorted.


    "Do you have the letter? I want to compare it to others we have received."


    Roy gave a short laugh. "Do you now? Perhaps I should just take the ones you have."


    I shrugged. I would burn them before I let him have them. "I can be of help to you. You don''t have to do the investigation on your own."


    He peered at me. "Very well. You may pick them up at Spadros Castle. Don''t bother sending anyone; if you want them, you''ll have to come get them yourself."


    I sighed. "Agreed." So he''d force me to come to him after all. Roy would do anything to cause others distress. To him it was like food. And I had a thought: Perhaps my greatest weapon is for him to believe I''m unafraid, no matter what his next ambush might be.

 Chapter 2: The Queen of Diamonds - Round 23: The Stalemate

    When I got home, Tony met me at the door, face pale. I glanced at Pearson, who seemed unperturbed. Tony took my hand. "Come with me." He drew me out of sight by the stair. Then he turned to me, voice shaking. "Did he hurt you?"


    "Tony, I was at the Spadros Women''s Club, taking tea with your mother."


    The color returned to his face. "I got word that my father was also there. My father went into the Women''s Club itself!" Tony sounded scandalized, and ashamed of his father''s behavior.


    So Tony had his spies as well. "I invited your mother to tea. The rest was ... most unexpected. But all''s well. I''m unharmed, although somewhat wiser."


    Tony pulled me to his chest in a tight hug. "Thank the Dealer." He kissed the top of my head. "My father delights in finding ways to hurt me."


    I hugged Tony back, moved by his misfortune of having Roy for a father. My father Peedro Sluff might be foul and lewd, greedy and slothful, but he had never intentionally hurt me.


    And suddenly, I had a new name for the list of people who had motive to hurt me: Roy Spadros. While I always thought he reveled in causing me harm, the idea that he would deliberately harm me in order to hurt Tony was new.


    Tony let go of me and took my hand. "I have news." We went into his study, where Sawbuck already sat. Tony sat at his desk, opening a ledger stuffed with notes. I sat next to Sawbuck, wondering what this was all about.


    "Your suspicion that these scoundrels are using our own money against us was correct," Tony said. He picked up a list. "They''ve bought ¡ª black cloth ¡ª damn them! The cloth I wanted for the casino!" A spasm of annoyance crossed his face. "Stamp ink, red. Well, that''s no surprise, they are making those cards, after all. Ammonium nitrate ¡ª diatomaceous earth ¡ª paraffin ¡ª clock parts?" Tony shook his head. "I can''t make sense of it."


    I said, "May I use your library to investigate these items? Perhaps I might find a common thread."


    Sawbuck nodded. "That''s a good idea."


    "Yes, it is," Tony said. "But you never had to ask ¡ª you''re welcome to go there anytime you wish."


    I chided myself for not asking earlier. Tony had a great many books which might be helpful to me. "When the accountant tells us more ...?"


    "I''ll pass it along to you at once," Tony said. Then he paused for several seconds. "Why the cloth? I planned it for the draperies ¡ª" He returned to musing, hand to his chin.


    After a minute of this, Sawbuck stirred. "Do you have any orders, sir?"


    Tony shook his head, waving Sawbuck away. "No, not yet. Once we deduce what they''re up to, I''ll know what to do."


    "Yes, sir." Sawbuck left, closing the door behind him.


    "Tony?"


    He closed the ledger and placed it on the desk, leaning his elbows atop it. "Yes, my love?"


    "How many of your men were once your father''s?"


    Tony didn''t react. "All but Ten. He dislikes my father and refuses to work for him." He gave a slight smile. "One reason I trust him." He paused. "So you''ve perceived our predicament."


    He sounded impressed, but it didn''t take too fine a logic to reason out that one.


    "But Ten''s goal is to find loyal men." The thought didn''t seem to bring Tony any happiness. "I can''t do anything overt to my father ¡ª at least, not in front of the men ¡ª nor can he do anything overt to us. A stalemate, but better than the alternative." He paused, a pensive look on his face. "My life seems filled with such tactics these days." He yawned, rubbing his face with his hands.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    "Tony, I know something''s wrong ..."


    He sounded weary. "Jacqui ¡ª"


    "I ask you, you deny it. I ask Gardena, she says ask you. Ever since she was here, you don''t sleep, you''re barely eating ... I care about you. I''m worried for your welfare. You let me help you in other matters; I want to understand why I can''t help with this."


    Tony put his face in his hands for a long moment. "Jacqui ¡ª" He raised his head. "Please stop. These questions aren''t helping."


    "But ¡ª"


    "Leave Gardena alone. She''s ¡ª she''s in tremendous danger." He hesitated. "In the most danger of anyone involved. I ¡ª I can''t ¡ª I wish I knew how to tell you without making things worse. The best way to help is to trust me."


    I nodded, not at all understanding. Could it have to do with her grandfather''s death? Why would something that happened six years ago put her in such terrible danger now? "Then I''ll remain silent. But you must promise to eat and sleep. I don''t want you to fall ill."


    He smiled at that. "I''ll try."


    Tony sat silently for a long time. Then he said, "I''ll be gone tomorrow until late."


    "More work at the casino?"


    He nodded, looking at his desk. "You may be asleep before I get home." He took my hands. "I love you, Jacqui. I''ll do whatever it takes to make you safe and happy."


    I couldn''t make the connection between working late at the casino and my safety. Or happiness. What did he mean?


    I spent the rest of the day reading in Tony''s library. I wasn''t good at reading, having come to it late in life, but I did enjoy it.


    I took the list of items from Tony''s investigation and ran down it.


    Black cloth ... that could be used for any number of things.


    Red stamp ink seemed obvious. I imagined that when the accountant finished he would find large purchases of business cards as well.


    I found ammonium nitrate in a book of Tony''s called "Chemical Compounds." Most of the chapter contained material I didn''t understand. But one section interested me:


    Uses: primarily used as a fertilizer, although it can be explosive if handled incorrectly. Must be sealed well or will absorb water and coalesce into a solid mass.


    There were more:


    Diatomaceous earth: fossilized remains of the diatom, a hard-shelled algae. Used as a filtration aid, a mechanical insecticide, an abrasive in metal polishes, an absorbent, a stabilizing component of dynamite, and a thermal insulator.


    Paraffin: a type of wax used to make candles. Also used as a sealant.


    I rubbed my forehead. Fertilizer, insecticide, candles? Did these false Red Dogs mean to run a farm? No, that couldn''t be it. What was this about dynamite?


    I searched the book but could find nothing on the subject. I knew dynamite was used to destroy the bridges during the Alcatraz Coup. Did they want to destroy more of them?


    I put the book away and searched Tony''s library for any book which might shed light on how one made dynamite. The closest I found were the volumes, The History of Bridges, which spoke of the Coup. But they were silent on how the substance was made.


    I set the book on my chair and went outside. The gardeners were busy planting for the spring, and I went to one of them. "Excuse me."


    The man was perhaps sixty, with part of a folded newspaper stuck in his back pocket. "Yes, mum, how may I help you?"


    "Ammonium nitrate. How is it used?"


    "Ah, mum, we don''t use anything like that here. The big farms in Clubb quadrant use that stuff. Don''t need it in a small garden like this."


    Our gardens were ten times the size of Ma''s back home. "Why not? Is it dangerous?"


    He shrugged. "Anything''s dangerous if you don''t know how to use it. But like I said, don''t need it. Spadros soil is good enough without it."


    "Thank you." I turned aside, then said, "if you were wanting to blow something up, would you use that?"


    "Mum?"


    "Ammonium nitrate."


    He paused. "Well, you could, but why would you go to the trouble? You could buy explosives for a lot less bother." He took the paper from his back pocket and unfolded it. "Look there."


    He pointed to an ad:


    Extra Dynamite


    Strong enough for mining


    Safer than nitroglycerin


    Contains 65% ammonium nitrate


    Interesting. If the Spadros Family began buying up dynamite, someone would surely notice. But this? A sly move indeed. "Do you know how this is made?"


    "No, mum, but my father used to work in the mines. He turned his cards in last year and we still got all his stuff. I''ll see if he had anything about it."


    "Thank you so much. This would be most helpful."


    "My pleasure, mum."


    I went to Tony. "I think they''re making explosives."


    His eyes widened. "To destroy what?"


    "I have no idea."


    ***


    Unable to move, I watched, horrified, as a dark-skinned man in white walked through the factory towards me. He looked straight at me ¡ª


    I woke with a start. Tony slept peacefully.


    Something wasn''t right.


    I was so afraid that day at the factory, I might have believed anyone approaching in white to be Jack, but now ....


    The man in white I saw seemed heavier, shorter. Was someone impersonating Jack Diamond there at the factory?


    Why would someone do that?


    Why would Jack allow someone to do that?


    Ah, I thought. To provide an alibi.


    My heart sank. A stalemate, indeed.


    Jack must have told his workers to say this imposter was him.


    Another way to discredit me. If I brought charges, yet Jack could prove beyond doubt that he was somewhere else at the time, I would never be given another chance to speak against him. He would get away with everything he had done.

 Chapter 2: The Queen of Diamonds - Round 24: The Liaison

    The next day, after all my household duties were done, I went to my study. Since Tony would be away, I decided to do some of my social calls. That night, I would finally have the chance to see what Marja knew about the threat against Ma. So I wrote a letter:


    Vig,


    I need to meet a friend outside your bar. 7 tonight. ¡ª J


    I sent that note with Pearson in a stack of my usual mail ¡ª answering letters, requesting information, and the like. I also asked him to get the carriage for me.


    I detested social calls. Hours of sitting in one stifling parlor after another, repeating the same banalities with women who hated me. I had my flask with me, though, and after each call, I celebrated its end with a good stiff swig. When I approached Honor at the last call on the list, he said, "Spadros Manor?"


    "The Kerr house, if you please." Since I was out, it seemed a good opportunity to visit Joe to see if he even remembered our prior meeting.


    Honor nodded. "Yes, mum."


    I shook my flask, which had been full of bourbon, but it hardly sloshed. Only a bit remained. No matter: Josie would surely have something to drink there.


    I would be proper as any upper, and I would set Joe straight. I couldn''t allow Joe to believe we had any future together.


    The maid ushered me to the Kerrs'' parlor, directing me to a battered armchair which faced away from the door.


    I pointed to the sofa, where I might see Joe and Josie enter. "I''d rather sit here."


    "They were specific, mum. Miss Josie said it was a surprise."


    I sighed. "Very well."


    I wanted to see Joe for as long as I could. All my other visits today had been of the fifteen minute variety; if I lingered too long here it might arouse suspicion.


    But if they had set a surprise for me ...


    I heard the door open behind me, and close, then Josie pushed Joe around the sofa in his chair. Joe smiled his glorious smile when he saw me. "Hi, Jacqui."


    The bandage on Joe''s head was gone; a red patch at his hairline remained. He had a cast on his arm, and his thigh was now in a cast as well. Josie pushed his chair between my armchair and the sofa, so Joe faced me, yet sat to my left. We almost touched. Josie sat on the other sofa, to my right.


    "I hope you both are well?"


    "Very well," Josie said. "And you?"


    Joe sat so close I could smell his scent, feel his warmth. It took all I had in me not to reach out and touch him. "Very well indeed."


    Josie smiled. "I''m glad to hear it."


    Joe said, "Josie, would you play for us?"


    "I would love to." She rose, going to the piano, and once she sat behind it, the top of her golden curls was all I could see.


    It was then I noted that the sofa was unusually far from the table, with plenty of room to wheel Joe near me. So this had been their plan all along.


    Josie began to play a soft tune.


    Joe said, "How are you, really?"


    I smiled, feeling quite warm. "I''m well. How do you feel?"


    "I feel well. The doctor says I''m making good progress. I should be out of this chair soon."


    Relief washed over me. "I''m so grateful."


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    "Josie told me of your work. Are you in danger?"


    It seemed I was always in danger, but to say so would only worry him. "I only take simple cases; in this one, I''m more of a debt collector than anything else."


    "Ah," Joe said, leaning back. "It seems so menial for you."


    Josie played much better than I did."It''s a bit more complex than I made it seem, of course. But I don''t want you to worry."


    He gazed at me with those beautiful eyes. "Josie also told me of your fears. I''m not ashamed of anything I said when last we were alone."


    Oh, dear. "You remember?"


    "I meant every word." He leaned over and kissed me.


    I don''t know how long we kissed. I don''t know what Josie played. But when our lips parted I felt breathless, dizzy. I whispered, "How can this possibly be?"


    "We were meant for each other." His lips brushed mine, then our foreheads touched. "I only think of having you in my arms."


    The thought of what might happen to Joe if someone walked in right now frightened me. "If anyone should learn of this ¡ª"


    Joe brought his good hand to my cheek. "Josie loves you as much as I. She would never betray us. No one else shall ever know." He pulled me close, kissed my forehead; my hand lay on his chest. "This place can be our haven, if you wish it."


    I wanted Joe more than anything in the world. But how could I betray Tony''s trust and come here under false pretenses? How could I put Joe in this kind of danger?


    Joe''s fingers dropped to mine. "I''m sorry."


    "You have nothing to be sorry for." I stroked his fingers with my thumb, wanting desperately to kiss them.


    I had to be strong. I had to set Joe straight. "Tony''s a good man. We''ve been together many years now. He loves me."


    "Josie tells it different. You''re unwilling. He violates you every night."


    "It''s not like that." The carpet had a hole in it near the table leg. "He thinks I go willingly." Joe''s eyes, normally green, were amber in this light. "Roy Spadros threatened to kill me if I revealed I was forced to marry. Tony doesn''t know."


    "His father has you trapped."


    I moved my hand to the arm of my chair. "It''s more than that. I ... to do this ... it would be horrible. I love Tony as a brother. He relies on me. He ... he bares his heart to me. He''s a good man, but not a strong one. If he learned of this, it ... it would destroy him."


    "Why do you care?"


    "I''ve known him since I was twelve. I care about him. He''s a good man, doing the best he can in a terrible situation."


    Joe shook his head. "He''s a murderer many times over. He killed Ottilie, and Poignee, and Treysa ¡ª our friends. He shot them in the head and dumped them in the Pot. Or don''t you remember? I don''t understand. Why are you defending him?"


    "I don''t defend what he does. He''s in the Family. He has to do things which you or I would shudder at. But he hates it. He wants to take me and leave here. He stood up to his father for me, which no one in this city ever dared do."


    Joe didn''t speak for some time. "So he defies his father. He takes you and leaves Bridges. And then what? Is he going to suddenly not become a murderer? Are you going to stay with a man, sleep with a man, who you feel for only as a brother? Live a lie for the rest of your life?" He paused. "Why?"


    I hadn''t thought that far.


    "You used to think for yourself, Jacqui. Have these people turned you into one of their puppets?"


    Had they? The thought shocked me.


    I didn''t care what Tony had done. He surely had never pulled the trigger on anyone, with the exception of Duck. I couldn''t see him even ordering someone''s death without the fear of his father and men driving him. But Joe was right; even if Tony and I left Bridges tonight, our marriage was doomed.


    "I know we can never be together," Joe said, "but I thought ¡ª maybe, if you wanted, we could have some moments here." Joe''s shoulders slumped. "I thought perhaps you still loved me."


    My heart tore in two. Crying out, I took hold of his beloved face and kissed him again and again. "I do, I do ... oh, gods, how could I not? You''re everything to me." I began to weep. "You''re the only thing that''s kept me alive through all this."


    His face lit up. "You love me." He held my hand to his chest, eyes closed. "All this pain has been worth it."


    It was as if he spoke my exact thoughts. I leaned over to touch his soft, soft hair, his beautiful face. I whispered, "I''ll tell you a secret. Every night, I love you. You''re in my arms, you''re inside me. I kiss your lips; I pull you to me."


    He peered into my eyes. "Truly?"


    At that, I felt sad. "If only it were. But in my heart we''ve been together these past three years." I told him then what Ma told me to do, how I searched inside myself during that terrible wedding night, and how I found him there.


    Joe kissed my forehead. "Then tonight, I''ll seek you as well."


    When I left Joe''s I felt light as a bird. He loved me.


    I could visit when I liked. And Joe could come visit me. It wasn''t much, and we might never have anything else, but for now, it was enough.


    On the way home, I reached for the brass speaking tube. "Stop by Dame Anastasia''s, please."


    "Yes, mum." The driver''s voice sounded tinny.


    Why didn''t Anastasia tell me what she was doing? Didn''t she trust me? Perhaps she thought I might disapprove of her liaison with Frank. Which was interesting. If he knew we were friends, calling me over to her house would have been the perfect way for him to capture me, without having to kidnap David at all.


    What was Frank really doing? I needed to talk with Anastasia to see if he had given her any clues as to his plans. But Dame Anastasia wasn''t home, so I left my calling card.


    It was very strange; she had never not been "at home" when I stopped by before.


    ***


    That night, I told Pearson I felt fatigued. I would be retiring early, so there was no need to make dinner for me.


    After Amelia helped me undress, she left. I put on my disguise of widow''s brown, with the shoes, hat, and thick veil I only used while on cases. Then I slipped out of the house and past the guards. It took a while to find a taxi-carriage, but soon I was on my way to Vig''s bar.


    Vig Vikenti always greeted me loudly. So I didn''t go in the front door, rather around to his side entrance, raising my veil when I opened the door. His mother gave me a glance and nodded as she stirred her pot in the lamplight. It smelled of frying meat. "Vig say you come here. Bad luck, woman wear brown." She herself wore brown, but I learned not to try to understand the logic of the old. "Go to Vig''s room."


    I patted her shoulder as I passed.


    The hall past her was lit golden by a gas lamp far down the hall. Halfway down the hall on the left, the window blind was pulled down. Slits of blue-white light spilled onto the wall from the electric street lamp outside. Doors lined the right; Vig''s room lay at the end of the hall.


    When I got to the blind, the door just past it opened. A dark figure came around to face me, the slits of light shining on his face. I stared at the man in horror.


    "Blitz Spadros. What the hell are you doing here?"

 Chapter 2: The Queen of Diamonds - Round 25: The Meeting

    Blitz Spadros was Tony''s cousin, our night footman, and sometimes (during the day) played piano in Vig''s bar. "I could ask the same of you," he said. "I''m supposed to be protecting you. But I find you here. Why are you here, Mrs. Spadros?"


    "That''s none of your concern."


    "I must be particularly inept at speaking tonight, because you''re not understanding me. My entire concern is where you are, and more to the point, why you''re here."


    "Why do you care?"


    "I thought it would be obvious. My loyalty is to the Spadros Family." He paused. "Who is your loyalty to, Mrs. Spadros?"


    I pushed past him, and he grabbed my arm. "You haven''t answered me."


    I turned to him, and the lamp down the hall illuminated his face. "I''m sorry you don''t trust me, Blitz. I''m not doing anything to hurt my husband, or to hurt the Family. I''m only meeting with a friend."


    He let go of my arm. "Meet with your friend, then."


    I went to Vig''s room and knocked. The brown-haired woman Vig called "Gypsy gal" answered, gesturing for me to come inside. Blitz stood outside, arms folded; she shut the door in his face.


    "I have dress for you," she said, bringing out one of hers.


    "I don''t know your name," I said. "Vig called you ¡ª"


    "Vig call me all sort of name," she said, as if irritated at him. "But I''m Natalia." She began helping me out of my dress.


    "A pleasure to meet you, Natalia. Where are you from?"


    "I''m of the Romani. We travel. But we''re here long before the Troubles."


    I frowned, not understanding.


    "Ah, you call it Catastrophe." She paused, pensive. "Yes, my people say it very bad." She paused. "Like that name he call me," contempt laced her voice, "Gypsy. It be like ''Pot rag'' ¡ª"


    I flinched. Yes, I had heard that one enough times.


    "Very bad." She tied a scarf on my hair. "There. You look like me, enough to fool cops." A shot rang out in the street behind me. "Now go."


    "Thank you."


    Vig''s other door opened to the street, and I peered out. A figure lay several feet to my right. Sawbuck stood over it.


    What the hell was Sawbuck doing here?


    I ran to them; the figure on the ground was Marja. I stared at Sawbuck in horror. "Did you kill her?"


    He shook his head. "I found her like this."


    I knelt beside her; she still lived. "Marja, what happened? Who did this?"


    She shuddered, a dark red pool spreading beneath her towards the curb. Her eyes filled with tears, then glazed over. "Ahhh ... Josie ...." She never breathed in.


    I closed Marja¡¯s eyes as grief crushed my heart. ¡°Even dying, you loved her.¡± I looked at her face, vision blurring. I¡¯ll keep Josie safe, Marja. I promise. I took Marja''s hand, kissed it. ¡°May you be dealt better cards next time.¡±


    "We need to get out of here," Sawbuck said.


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    Who did this to her? Why? I searched Marja''s pockets: nothing. But she held a crumpled paper in her hand, and I stuffed it into my pocket.


    A gunshot. Whistles, from far off. Police hats bobbed far past Sawbuck, running towards us from beyond the front of the bar.


    "Run!" Sawbuck grabbed my arm, and we ran around to the other side of the building. I noted a taxi-stand across the street, but we went round the second corner to the door I went in at first.


    A shock of surprise as Morton ran up panting, eyes wide. "I saw her. The woman I told you about. She just shot at me!"


    We sat in the carriage on the way to Jack Diamond''s Party Time factory. Morton stared at the floorboards as he told his story.


    "Zia and Frank brought me to a third-floor office with a name-plate on the door," Morton said. "Frank Pagliacci, Assistant to the District Attorney, Clubb quadrant. When we went in for the meeting, a woman with black hair sat behind the reception desk. He called her Birdie."


    I stared at him, remembering Roy''s story of the anonymous letter sent by a black-haired woman.


    Sawbuck looked confused. "What woman?"


    "Follow me." I ran to the door. I didn''t know how they found me, but I had to get my dress back.


    The men followed me inside. Vig''s mother was nowhere to be seen, but a great commotion of police sounded to be in the front hall of the bar. Blitz leaned against the wall in the hallway, turning to face us as we entered. I opened the first door, surprising an unclothed couple, who after a glance, ignored me.


    The next room was empty. "Go in there. I need to change clothes before they get here."


    The men went inside. I ran to Vig''s room, scooped up my dress, and hurried my way into it. After I put on my hat and veil, I shoved Natalia''s dress under Vig''s bed.


    I sat on Vig''s bed. So Tony set Blitz, Sawbuck, and Morton to follow me tonight. Why would he think I¡¯d go anywhere?


    I returned to the room and double-knocked. Blitz opened the door. "Come on in."


    Sawbuck pointed a gun at Morton, who sat in a chair by the wall, an alarmed look on his face. "It seems Master Rainbow hasn''t been entirely truthful. He knows Frank Pagliacci."


    I went into the room. "Don''t be ridiculous, there''s no need for pointing guns. Master Rainbow told me this earlier. He''s yet another of Frank Pagliacci''s victims."


    Morton looked dismayed at my analysis, as if he hadn''t considered it that way before.


    Sawbuck didn''t budge. "When were you going to tell us this?"


    "Come on, Master Hogan. Think. We have a bigger problem."


    Sawbuck holstered his gun. "What?"


    Blitz said, "Getting out of here, for one. It won''t take long before the police start searching rooms."


    I laughed in spite of myself. "Well, since the mayor''s in the room next door, I hope they do. But that wasn''t what I meant. I came to meet a friend who warned me my life was in danger," I told Blitz, "and Master Hogan here found her outside, shot dead."


    Blitz was no longer smiling.


    "Whoever shot her might still be out there," I said, in case they hadn''t figured it out yet. Sure, it was Ma that Marja warned me about, but I didn''t want to tell them about her.


    Blitz said, "Why''d you come here to meet her? We could''ve had her brought to Spadros Manor."


    I hadn''t considered this, so I had to think fast. I remembered the taxi-stand across the street. "She was in Hart quadrant. Could you still have had her brought here?"


    "Good gods," Sawbuck said. "I knew it was a mistake for Mr. Anthony to speak for Hart the night of the dinner." He twitched, then glanced at me. "Sorry, mum."


    Somehow I felt unsurprised at his knowing this.


    Blitz had been listening at the door. "I think they''re gone; this might be our chance to escape." He opened the door a crack, then his hand jerked towards his revolver.


    Natalia''s face came into view. "Ah! There you are. The police are searching rooms. You," she gestured at Sawbuck, "take the lady. Come with me."


    Sawbuck offered his arm to me and the others followed.


    Natalia brought us back through the kitchen. But instead of leading us out of the side door, we turned left down another long hallway with windows to the right. Police filled the street, rushing to and fro. At the end of the corridor she pressed on a wall panel on the left, which clicked, opening onto a hidden door. I thought the door might lead to the lobby, instead it revealed a long flight of stairs headed down. "Go there, then right. At the end of the hall, go up. Knock three times. Tell them I sent you."


    I handed her a dollar. "Thank you."


    She winked. "You were never here."


    We went down the stair; the panel clicked behind us.


    The stair was narrow, yet well-lit, as was the corridor, which more than crossed the street. After going up the stair, Sawbuck knocked three times. The door opened; a man stood with a gun pointed at us. Sawbuck turned to me, face filled with alarm.


    "Natalia sent us," I said. The man put away his gun.


    I smiled to myself at the sighs of relief around me.


    The man gestured for us to follow. We went through an ordinary-looking pantry, ending up in the back alley.


    Once to our carriage, Blitz held out his hand, as Honor usually did, but I stopped, speaking quietly so the driver might not hear. ¡°You men did your duty, and I¡¯m grateful. But I¡¯m worried about my husband''s distress should he learn of this meeting. Is it necessary to tell him?¡±


    Blitz looked to Sawbuck; apparently Morton had no say in the matter.


    Sawbuck hesitated. "We''ll say nothing for now. But if he finds you dressed in this fashion, or anyone comments on your absence, all bets are off."


    I smiled. "Fair enough."


    After helping me into the carriage, Blitz took his place in the back as our footman. Sawbuck and Morton sat silent.


    Someone must have seen me leave the house: it was the only way they could''ve found me. I hoped it was one of these three.


    Amelia claimed she never told Roy about my business or the times I went out at night. Tony claimed Sawbuck hated Roy; Morton (as far as I knew) never met him. That left Blitz Spadros. Who did he report to? "Should I expect a meeting with Mr. Roy?"


    Sawbuck glanced at Morton. "A footman who betrayed his mistress would soon be out of a job. They report to me."


    They reported to Sawbuck. And he didn''t trust me. "I only want what''s best for my husband."


    "Then we''re in perfect agreement," Sawbuck said.


    At my insistence, Sawbuck stopped the carriage a block away so I might get in the house without notice. As I hoped, Tony wasn''t home yet, only much later slipping into bed beside me.


    I lay pretending to sleep as Tony tossed and turned, paced and mumbled to himself, yet I could only think of one thing: Marja was dead. And I couldn''t help but feel I had something to do with it.

 Chapter 2: The Queen of Diamonds - Round 26: The Reality

    Tony got up at his usual time, just as the sky began to pale. Once he went out to do whatever he did every morning, I lit a candle and went to my closets to search the pocket of the dress I wore the night before. The piece of paper Marja had in her hand lay crumpled there. Something was written upon it in pencil, but between the crumpling, the blood stains, and the dirt, I couldn''t make out what it said.


    Deflated, I put on my robe and locked the note in my dresser. Perhaps I could find a way to decipher it later.


    Joe and Josie would be devastated at Marja''s death. Their mother died bearing them, and Marja had been one of the few people who watched over them. I remembered Marja brushing Josie''s hair in front of the fire, bringing her food, rocking her.


    Who would kill Marja? She was just a woman from the Pot. Certainly no one worth going to the trouble of killing. How did they know we were to meet last night? What did she have to tell me that someone found so dangerous that they would kill to silence it?


    I crawled into bed. A copy of the Golden Bridges arrived while I was at the Kerr''s, and I felt curious to see what these men thought of the miracle gems.


    Indeed, they had an editorial on the subject:


    Gem colored price bubble?


    The "miracle gem" craze sweeping the city of Bridges is a great deal for the gem sellers, most notably a certain wag with the moxie to call herself Queen in a city ruled by the Diamonds. Whether these gems (or their "elixirs") actually do what they''re claimed to be doing is unknown. Who knows this Dr. Overs Gocow, or his qualifications? But this is of little consequence to the mad sellers of gems, who will claim just about anything to part with their goods, for a price.


    I would bring your attention to the "secret penny" craze of the 1870''s. A few misprinted pennies ended up selling for thousands of dollars until people tired of the sport. Prices fell dramatically, those holding the pennies at the end after purchasing them for vast sums unable to sell them for more than a penny. Will this finish the same way, with buyers left holding worthless merchandise after squandering their fortunes? I suppose it''s lucky the gems are pretty. We shall see.


    Many people considered the Golden Bridges to be tawdry, but lately it seemed to have more sense than the Bridges Daily.


    That made me think of Mr. Durak. I hoped he might recover from his melancholy and return to the productive life he once had.


    When Amelia came in, she had a book with her. "The gardener said you requested this."


    "Oh, yes! Thank you." I opened the book, Formulation of Explosives, and paged through it while drinking my morning tea. It spoke of how the dynamite sticks were dipped in paraffin to seal them, how to set charges, place fuses, and (most interesting) the construction of timers.


    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    Air would have loved this book. My best friend, born the same day I was, murdered in front of me when we were twelve. In a different place, Air would surely have become an Inventor.


    At breakfast, I reminded Tony of Gardena''s luncheon and told him we planned to visit the gardens at the Women''s Club. "We might even stay for tea, depending on the weather. She''s invited her sisters-in-law, and her brothers may take us boating if the day turns nice. Jonathan is keeping Jack occupied."


    "That''s a relief," Tony said. "I don''t suppose too much could happen in the Women''s Club. Unless you get soaked again."


    We were not to meet her brothers at the Women''s Club at all, but rather at the Plaza on Market Center. Many buildings there had easily accessed roofs one might observe from. Also, the Plaza was crowded, so we might come and go without attracting notice.


    "Make sure you return right after tea," Tony said. "We should leave as early as possible for the Celebration."


    I was not looking forward to this.


    Tony placed his hands on my shoulders. "I know this isn''t a blessed day for you, or even an enjoyable one. I understand; today we celebrate the destruction of your home and your people''s descent into ruin, instigated by my ancestor." He spoke as if this hadn''t occurred to him before, and paused, gazing to the side for a moment. "But this event tonight is something we''re expected to attend. Can you at least appear to be happy?"


    I laughed. "That I can do."


    The biggest challenge I faced was leaving the Diamond Women''s Center without my men noticing. I had instructed Gardena to bring a dark dress in my size with a plain hat and thick veil. I instructed Amelia to pick out a brightly colored dress with a feathered hat. "We''re going to have such fun! First we''ll have luncheon, then promenade, then perhaps go boating, then have tea ... it should be a lovely day."


    Amelia smiled. "I''m glad, mum. I do like Miss Gardena, and her brother''s such a gentleman."


    "He is. He won''t be there today, but I''ll send your regards."


    She shifted, glancing away. "Servants are never brought into conversation with fine folk." Her face grew stern. "I know Mrs. Molly taught you this."


    "She did." I thought of what Roy had done to her and my eyes stung. "How do you stand it here? I couldn''t do what you do."


    "I''m most grateful to be here, mum."


    After everything that happened. "Why?"


    Amelia gave me an incredulous stare. "Mum, I grew up in the slums. My father died when I was small." She spoke as if this explained everything.


    "I''m sorry, Amelia. How did it happen?"


    "He worked in a Party Time factory; a canister fell and opened in front of him. He breathed the dust, him and five others, and it killed them." Her face turned pensive. "There were ten of us children, the youngest just a baby. After he died, we never had enough to eat, or proper clothes, and barely time to sleep. I worked as a street sweeper from the age of eight, sixpence for a ten hour day, and helped my mother with the washing at night. It was sheer Fortune that Mr. Roy''s mother took notice of me." She paused for a while, gripping the chair in front of her, knuckles white, then took a deep breath. "My life has been hard, yes, but my mother is cared for and my girls have food and good clothing. Someday, they may become lady''s maids to your children. Everything that has happened was worth it, for them."


    I spoke gently. "And what of your son?"


    Amelia said nothing.


    "Amelia ... " I wasn''t sure what to say. "What Mr. Roy did to you is not Pip''s fault."


    Amelia stood silent for some time. "Maybe it''s for the best that he live with the men." She took a deep breath and let it out, then picked up my handbag and gave it to me with a fake smile. "I''m sure your carriage is ready."

 Chapter 2: The Queen of Diamonds - Round 27: The Message

    As I got into the carriage, Pearson came up with a message. "The boy said it was urgent." He handed it to me. "Oh, and I learned about the warehouse."


    I blinked, confused. "The warehouse?"


    "The one you asked me about? Where your letter came from."


    The building Marja sent her note from. "Oh, yes, I''m sorry."


    Pearson spoke to me kindly. "It''s of no consequence, mum. The building''s owned by the Clubb Family."


    By the Clubbs? "I didn''t know they owned buildings here."


    "Well, yes, mum. It''s complex. They own the building, we own the land. But as it''s one of their produce distribution houses, it''s best for them to keep up the maintenance."


    Why would Josie''s uncle manage a building in Spadros quadrant owned by the Clubbs? "Thank you, Pearson."


    He bowed. "Have a pleasant trip."


    Once the carriage was underway, I read the message:


    My dear Mrs. Spadros:


    I must leave in haste. You''ll hear many things about me once I''m gone; I suppose most of them are true. I was a foolish old woman who should never have trusted Frank Pagliacci. I helped him. I loved him. But he has no love for anyone but himself.


    Although the charade with the Doctor was Frank''s idea, I gave you the case so you''d take the necklace. Dismantle it at once and sell the gems to one of my appraisers. Please don''t hesitate; do it now.


    Your fondest wish has always been to leave Bridges. If you sell the gems in the next few hours, you should have more than enough money to do so. That will make this whole debacle worth it.


    I truly am fond of you, and I wish you well.


    All my love,


    Anastasia, Dame Louis


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    PS. Thank you for the clock. Such a heavy package for its size! I''m most intrigued. I will follow your instructions and wait to open it until we have passed through the Aperture.


    I gave her no such gift. To ask me to destroy her necklace with such haste made no sense. And she neglected to use the code wordings we normally used when writing to each other.


    This felt wrong, dangerously so.


    Was this message indeed from Anastasia, or was this another forgery? Or was this message in some code? Was the package real? If so, what was really in the package? If the note was a forgery, what was the forger trying to tell me?


    I took the brass calling tube. "Driver."


    "Yes, mum."


    "Clubb quadrant, zeppelin station, please."


    "I''m sorry, mum, I can''t do that."


    "Why not?"


    We continued on, and Honor came round outside the open window, standing on the running board. "Mr. Roy said not to enter Clubb quadrant until time for the celebration."


    "Do you know why?"


    "No, mum, I don''t." He disappeared back to his post.


    Why would Roy forbid us to go into Clubb quadrant?


    I took up the tube again, meaning to go to the bank on the way to the Women''s Club. "Driver?"


    No answer.


    But then the outside lock clicked into place. I was trapped.


    ***


    While overcast, the day was warm, and rain seemed unlikely as we approached the Diamond Women''s Club. The street was crowded; many women went up and down the Club''s steps. The dining room and lobby were full. Gardena stood out of sight of the street, beckoning as I approached, and led me to a side room.


    I closed the door behind us. "I must find a taxi-carriage."


    Gardena blinked. "Whatever for?"


    How could I tell her that my men (probably under orders from Roy) locked me in my carriage and forced me to come here? That I had a terrible feeling about all this? "I can''t explain it now."


    "Jacqui, no. You promised you''d come with me! You can''t just leave me here! I did everything you asked me to."


    You''re at your best when you think, and reason, Tony said, when you have the urge to act.


    I took a deep breath. Tony sent outriders with me for a reason. By now, everyone in Diamond knew Mrs. Spadros was in the Women''s Club. Despite what I told Tony, Jonathan was still at his Country House, not in the city keeping Jack Diamond occupied. Jack might be loitering around the corner at this very moment waiting for an opportunity. What was I thinking? "You''re right; I''m sorry."


    Gardena smiled and patted my hand. "Whatever it is, all will be well. Let''s get you changed and catch this scoundrel."


    She made it sound as if going on a lark, but I wasn''t so sure.


    I changed into the navy blue dress she brought, covering my hair with a black scarf. The hat and veil were also navy blue, and hid my face well. I stuck my handbag in my pocket. "Ready."


    Gardena also wore a hat with a veil. So disguised, we walked into the crowd of women on the street and past my men without them noticing us. It worked just as I planned.


    Around the corner and down the street, a Diamond carriage awaited us. Gardena''s footman opened the door. A man wearing brown sat inside.


    Morton said, "Hello, ladies."

 Chapter 2: The Queen of Diamonds - Round 28: The Briefcase

    How did Morton find us?


    "Master Rainbow!" Gardena said. "Whatever are you doing here?"


    I turned to her, astonished. "You know him?"


    "Why yes. He works for the Harts." She climbed into the carriage, and sat across from him. "He''s a friend of my father''s."


    "How remarkable!" The footman helped me inside, and I sat next to Gardena. I told Morton, "I didn''t know you and Miss Diamond were acquainted."


    "I didn''t know you and Miss Diamond were acquainted either," Morton said. "Although I haven''t been to call on the Diamonds for some time."


    The footman shut the door.


    Gardena said, "So I take it the two of you know each other."


    I glanced at Morton. "We''ve been introduced."


    Gardena appeared perplexed.


    "I''ve been tasked with your protection, my dear," Morton said to no one in particular, "so here I am."


    Gardena beamed at him.


    It was clear Tony had asked him to follow me. "I hope your companions are well?"


    "Indeed," he said, and the way he said it made me think they were alert to the fact that I might try to slip past them.


    Morton''s presence was a major impediment. He surely gave Tony''s men a contingency plan if he didn''t return after a certain time. They would send one of our outriders to search for him, and not finding him, return and inform Tony.


    This was not going to end well. Perhaps I could tell Tony that Gardena changed plans at the last minute ¡ª as long as Morton played along.


    Gardena''s expression became shrewd. "Evidently, Master Rainbow is a widely traveled man."


    Morton grinned. "I do meet with many in my travels, although I haven''t had the pleasure of visiting the Clubbs."


    "I''ll have to introduce you," Gardena said, then blushed.


    "Miss Diamond is being courted by the Clubbs," I said. "The heir, to be precise."


    Morton''s eyes grew wide. "Indeed?"


    Gardena began chattering in great detail about her meetings with Lance Clubb.


    I gave up the idea of reaching Anastasia before she left. It was clear she planned to leave the city before her forgeries were discovered. But why stay in the city a moment longer than she had to? Why not leave earlier, hiring me instead to sell her belongings and send her the money?


    Perhaps she never wanted me to know where she was going.


    That hurt; she was one of the few friends I had in Bridges.


    "You''re so quiet," Gardena said. "I hope all is well?"


    Anastasia helped Frank Pagliacci. "I recently learned that a friend may have betrayed me." I couldn''t help but notice Gardena''s flinch and Morton''s evaluating gaze of us both.


    I wondered what Gardena had done, why she sounded so contrite, so remorseful, at Queen''s Day dinner. Why she had begged Tony to tell me something important, and if it was so vital, why he failed to do so. Why Tony thought she was in such terrible danger. Why Jake Bower thought I could gain a great deal of money from his information. What Thrace Pike thought was happening which upset him so.


    I was missing something ¡ª as usual. Something important, something I should be able to deduce.


    Gardena wasn''t in love with Tony; she never acted as if she loved him in all the years I had known her. She seemed more irritated with him than anything else. She had never treated me badly nor acted jealous of my relationship with him. And instead of moping or doing the other things a woman in love with someone she couldn''t have might do, she was happily accepting suitors. "I don''t know why she''s done this. I can''t even find her to talk with her."


    Gardena put her hand on mine. "I''m sorry." She gazed out of the window, and we held hands the rest of the way there.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    ***


    The carriage pulled up in an alleyway near the Plaza on Market Center. Morton, Gardena and I went into the side door of an office building, then up several flights of stairs to the roof. Five men stood there, all tall, very dark, and handsome. Or the oldest would be, if he wasn''t scowling. They wore black business suits and top hats, looking a bit too dapper for this sort of work.


    He gestured at me. "Why did you bring that creature here?" His brothers shifted, glancing away, embarrassed.


    "For shame, Cesare!" Gardena said. "This is Mrs. Spadros, my friend, who has risked her life to assist me."


    Cesare smirked. "This is a Pot rag dressed in your finery, Gardena, nothing more." His gaze went past me, and he tipped his hat. "Afternoon, Master Rainbow. So my sister has ensnared you into this farce as well."


    Morton seemed amused. "My pleasure, sir."


    We were near the bank; from there I could catch a taxi-carriage. "Very well. If my services are no longer required, I''ll ¡ª"


    "No!" Gardena said, grabbing my arm. "You must stay. Please don''t leave. Cesare, you will apologize to ¡ª"


    "I''ll do no such thing." He turned to me. "Have I said one inaccurate word?"


    I chuckled. "Not one." I turned to Gardena, who appeared mortified. "I find men who speak their minds refreshing. I see you two are much alike."


    "No." Gardena glared at her brother. "We are nothing alike."


    I sighed, turning so I might face them all. "Are we here to argue, or to capture your blackmailer?"


    Morton''s eyes went wide.


    I did neglect to tell him what he was getting into.


    Gardena turned to me and said, "What shall we do next?"


    Why did she think I would know?


    I shrugged. I was a Watcher for many years as a teenager in the Pot, although we never shot anyone. We only watched for those we might steal from and signaled to the ones lying in wait below. "If I planned to capture someone, I would place someone on each of the roofs around where the meeting is to be, with a pistol at least. Although if you think you might really want to shoot him, a rifle would be better. Then at least two armed men close to you in case the man does something upsetting."


    Her brothers looked at each other, impressed.


    Cesare said, "She''s not going anywhere near that spot."


    Quadrant-men were so predictable. "Then this is a perfectly safe place to wait. Although I fail to see why the man should come forth when he sees she''s not there."


    "Oh," Gardena said. "My maid is down there, dressed as me."


    I gaped at her, appalled. "You would put a maid into such danger? For shame, Gardena!"


    She frowned at me in puzzlement. "She''s only a maid, Jacqui. And my brothers will be there."


    I let out a breath, exasperated. These people didn''t see servants as anything but disposable. "Then why are we here?"


    Gardena seemed put out. "Why, in case I recognize the man, I can identify him." She opened a letter. "It says he will be, I quote: ''dark of skin, wearing brown, carrying a brown briefcase''. I''m to give him the money in exchange for the briefcase of information."


    Morton chuckled. As usual, he wore brown, a medium chocolate brown, but he carried no briefcase, and no one would ever say he was dark of skin.


    I peered over the edge into the busy Plaza; at least 500 men wore brown. "Well, that narrows it down."


    Men wearing brown had become the bane of my life. I had been followed by men in brown for the whole month of January. Every man in the city seemed to be wearing that color this season. Few carried briefcases though, as it was a Saturday, and offices were closed.


    Gardena peeked over and laughed.


    Morton said, "How may I help?"


    "I could use a man on the roof over there," Cesare pointed across the street. "Can you whistle?"


    Morton grimaced. "Not well." He took a small mirror from his pocket. "Perhaps this will suffice?"


    "Perfectly." The two men shook hands; Morton tipped his hat to us and left.


    Her brothers conferred with each other, then Cesare remained with us, peering at the crowd on the Plaza, while the rest went downstairs. Two of them took positions near a woman dressed in one of Gardena''s gowns carrying a large satchel and the other two went to separate roofs.


    "I had the pleasure of meeting your son," I said to Cesare. "He''s a beautiful child."


    He frowned at me. "What?" Then he glanced at Gardena and back at me. "Oh. Yes. Thank you."


    An odd reaction for a man whose child was just praised. But he did seem rather distracted. Gardena''s face showed nothing.


    "Oh, by the way," Cesare said to Gardena, "Master Clubb wrote me this morning. Your package is on its way."


    Gardena and I both said, "Oh?"


    He chuckled. "Indeed. Should be loaded into the cargo hold as we speak."


    Already? "What''s this, Dena? I thought it would take longer."


    Gardena pulled me aside. "He doesn''t know it''s a person. Lance knows a person is going, but not who. You said you wanted it secret."


    On a first name basis with Master Clubb already, are we? "Well, I did, but I thought they would need training or something. I wanted to say good-bye to my mother before she left."


    She smiled. "I''m sure she''ll write once she gets there."


    I knew they were being smuggled out, but I never imagined this. How long would Ma be in there? Would she be safe?


    The clock struck half past two, and I wished for some shade. Wearing a navy blue dress to a rooftop gathering was a mistake. "What time was this man supposed to arrive?"


    "Shortly," Gardena said.


    Cesare called out, "There he is!"


    Two of Gardena''s brothers held a dark-skinned man in brown who clutched a leather briefcase to his chest. The man''s eyes were frightened, and his mouth moved rapidly.


    "Let''s go," Cesare said, so we hurried down the stairs.


    The stocky young man wore a suit which was too large for him. From his face, so much like Ferti Hart''s except a very dark brown, I saw that he had the same impediment. "The man said give it to her," he yelled, almost in tears. He appeared more upset by not being able to hand it to the maid than by the two men holding him.


    I ran to them. "Let him give it to her."


    The man handed the briefcase over to the maid, then blubbered, "Thank you pretty miss. He said give it to her and I would do good."


    I peered at him. "You did do good. Tell me about the man."


    "He was nice. He told me to give it to the lady. Only her."


    Gardena''s brothers stood around the open case, frowning. "What do you make of this?"


    I turned to them. "What?"


    Cesare held up an envelope. "It''s addressed to you."


    To me?


    I told Morton, "Let him go. He''s not your blackmailer."


    Morton snorted, and one of Gardena''s brothers laughed. For a moment, I hated them both.


    "What''s a blackmailer?" The man glanced from one of us to the other in bewilderment as a crowd of bystanders gathered.


    "It''s nothing," Morton said. "You did well. You can go home."


    I stalked over to Cesare, furious at whoever used that man in this way, and snatched the letter from him. Inside the envelope was a photo of my lock-box with the jewels in it, and a note: "BOOM".


    The whole world became silent.


    Explosives. Timers. Clock parts. Anastasia thought her package was a clock ... because it was ticking.


    I stared at Morton. "He''s going to bomb the zeppelin."

 Chapter 2: The Queen of Diamonds - Round 29: The Train

    "Who''s going to bomb the zeppelin?" said Gardena.


    The color drained from Morton''s face. "Frank Pagliacci."


    Gardena and her brothers said in unison, "Who''s that?"


    A group of police approached, Probationary Constable Hanger with them. "What is this disturbance?"


    Morton took a step aside. "It''s just a misunderstanding."


    They didn''t look convinced.


    I turned to Cesare, suddenly grateful for my veil. "Do you have a way to contact the Clubbs directly?"


    "We can send a messenger, but it''s almost shift change. The traffic will be horrendous. It''ll take an hour at least for a boy to get there, even if his carriage is waiting on the other side of the river."


    I had been here too long; it was almost three. "In that time, everyone on the zeppelin may be dead."


    Gardena and her brothers looked appalled. "What do we do?"


    I turned away, trying to think.


    I had an idea.


    "The train! When does it leave?"


    "Right now," a man said, passing by. He gestured with his chin. A tall plume of smoke spouted on the far end of the island.


    "Where is the carriage?" I shouted. "We must get to the train!"


    "This way," Cesare said, so we followed him.


    I glanced back. The police were questioning the bystanders, all but PC Hanger. He called out, "Wait!"


    I fled around the corner with the rest.


    The driver, a dark-skinned man with white hair, was asleep. It took a moment to get him to understand what we wanted. "You want me to take you into Clubb quadrant uninvited?"


    I grabbed his hand. "If we don''t get word to the Clubbs, we might have a zeppelin full of dead people."


    The driver stared at us in horror.


    "The train slows to a crawl at the bridge, but we won''t get there in time on this side," Morton said. "We have to catch it as it goes into Clubb proper."


    PC Hanger and a few men came round the corner. "Wait!"


    We climbed onto the carriage and started off, the police following far behind on foot. "Gardena, you and your brothers stop at the bridge," I said, "some on this side, the rest on the other side. Tell them someone plans to bomb the zeppelin. See if they can contact the Clubbs directly."


    Gardena gave me a blank stare. "Directly? How?"


    "The Clubbs have a device which can speak through wires. We stole it from them last year."


    Her eyes went wide. "Ohhh."


    I chuckled. "But don''t tell Lance that."


    Her brothers peered at me. Then they glanced at each other, faces thoughtful.


    We got to the first guard post. "Hey," the guard said, as we went past those waiting in line, "You can''t do that!"


    Cesare and two more of Gardena''s brothers got off and began speaking with the man, who shook his head. Cesare pointed at the other guard booth. "Go!"


    The driver took off over the wide bridge, weaving around carriages trying to cross going both ways. Finally, we reached the other side, and Gardena''s other brothers got off.


    "Go with them," I told Gardena.


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    "But ¡ª"


    "Tony will be upset enough with me for doing this. But if we were both hurt, it ... it would kill him."


    She stared at me a long moment, eyes reddening, then kissed my cheek, dashing tears away as she climbed out of the carriage.


    Gardena''s brother, standing beside the guard, shook his head.


    The constables far behind rode horseback through the packed bridge towards us. I shouted, "We have to hurry!"


    Morton said, "Why do you care so much?"


    "My mother''s on that zeppelin."


    He stared at me in shock, then stuck his head out of the window. "Go! We must catch that train!"


    Taxi-carriage drivers shouted curses at us as we barreled along the long wide street, the horses'' hooves ringing on the cobblestones. We turned left once we passed the Pot and raced towards the train tracks along the river. The guard lights flashed and a plume of smoke slowly approached. Our driver stopped, pulling his goggles up on his forehead as we climbed out.


    Morton went to the driver. "Get your people. Tell them if they can contact the zeppelin to do so. We''ll try to get there before it''s too late."


    "Bless you, sir" the driver said. "And you too, miss." He turned the carriage round as the train chugged into view.


    We ran to the tracks, then towards the rear of the train. A passenger car passed, and a boxcar, then a railing appeared. Morton grabbed my hand as I leapt aboard to the sound of approaching hoof beats. Clinging to him, I glanced back. PC Hanger and several policemen shouted at us as we passed the waiting traffic. Three dismounted and chased us, trying to get on the train themselves. "We have trouble."


    Morton laughed. "I should expect that when with you."


    The constables pulled out pistols.


    I moved out of their view. "We had best get inside."


    Morton locked the door behind us. We were inside a cargo car full of boxes. We climbed over and around them, I a bit more slowly than he. "These skirts are most annoying at times like this."


    Morton chuckled. "I daresay."


    Shouts came from the other side of the door, and gunshots hitting the lock. We hurried to the next car.


    This car was filled with baggage. I took a red and white patterned scarf tied to one of the bags and shoved it in my pocket. Morton stared at me but said nothing. We moved to a passenger compartment, full of people reading papers, smoking, and chatting. Morton locked the door, then we pushed past a waiter handing out drinks. We continued on to the next car, the police rattling on the far lock as we closed the door behind us. The waiter went to unlock the door for the constables.


    "They''re going to catch us soon," Morton said.


    We entered a baggage car. The window on the far side of this car showed more people sitting. A black coat with red lining hung on a hook in the far corner. I grabbed it, then grabbed Morton by his coat and pulled him out of view.


    He repositioned his Derby hat. "What in hell are you about?"


    I ignored him, taking off my hat and scarf and tossing them aside. I pulled my hair loose, tying the red and white scarf around my hair in a quick tignon, then turned the coat inside out so the red lining showed. The door clanked as it opened far behind us. I put on the coat, shoved him into the corner, pulled his hat over his eyes, and threw my arms around his neck. "Kiss me."


    His voice was husky. "With pleasure."


    Footsteps approached, then stopped. Probationary Constable Hanger said, "Excuse me, sir. My apologies." The footsteps of the police moved on to the next car as our lips parted.


    Morton''s face was flushed, his pupils dilated. He took a deep breath and let it out. "Whoa."


    "Don''t get any ideas," I said. "It''ll take them some time to get to the front of the train, but then they''ll be back, searching everywhere, questioning everyone. We aren''t done here yet."


    He took his hat off and smoothed his hair.


    I pulled off the patterned scarf and the coat, tossing them over a box as we pulled into a station. I searched for Gardena''s hat and scarf, then put up my hair in a bun.


    "Riverfront Station," a man''s voice echoed from the car in front of us. "Riverfront Station. Continuing along the Promenade and to the Rim. Next stop, Bath."


    I peered outside. A train sat on the other side of the tracks. The placard hanging from the roof said: Zeppelin Station. "We''re on the wrong train." I picked up Gardena''s hat, put it on, pulled down my veil, put her scarf around my neck, and went for the door. I glanced in the passenger compartment; the police were there. "Let''s go."


    We ran across to the other train and got in just as the train started up. Across the platform, I caught PC Hanger''s eye and waved at him. The look of astonishment and anger on the man''s face was priceless.


    "Won''t they stop the train?" Morton said.


    How did he not know that? "They can''t. It''s on a timer. They only stop if someone''s injured. The conductor must do that." I leaned back. "We can only hope we get there on time."


    Morton picked up an afternoon newspaper from the seat next to him. The headline read: GEM PRICES FALL 2%. He turned the page to the crossword puzzle and took out a gold fountain pen.


    Completing a crossword puzzle at a time like this?


    The whistle blew as the train gathered speed. I peered out over the wheat fields, recalling the last time I visited the zeppelin station. A vast half-cylinder of stained glass set into beams of wood and steel ... it was the most glorious sight.


    Dirigibles of all kinds entered and left Bridges by way of the Aperture, each majestic, each beautiful. The people on the train would be horrified if they knew a madman planned to destroy one of those treasures along with everyone aboard it.


    The timing of this meeting with Gardena''s blackmailer was too convenient. But Gardena and her brothers had knowledge of neither the bomb nor of Frank Pagliacci. Was the blackmail just another distraction?


    This thought gave me pause. Would Jack Diamond blackmail his own sister? Or did he unwittingly reveal some information to Frank ¡ª or whoever directed them?


    How did any of them know Gardena would come to me for help, or ask me to accompany her?


    Trey Louis said Anastasia and Frank worked together. Anastasia''s letter said she helped him. Did Frank use Anastasia as they used Mr. Durak?


    This bomb could be a way for Frank and Jack ¡ª or more likely, the man who directed them ¡ª to silence her as he did the stable-man. As he tried to silence Morton.


    Whoever this man was, his decisions chilled me.


    The station came into view to our right, sun glistening on its surface. Several airships rose from the station. The Aperture, high in the dome, opened as we watched.


    The Aperture was a truly monstrous mechanism, large enough that several massive dirigibles could pass one another with plenty of room to spare.


    The gigantic brass plates gleamed as they moved. The Kerrs built that. Yet tonight, the quadrants will cheer their downfall.


    "Magnificent," Morton said. "I never tire of watching it."


    The train took the last turn into the station, which was full of people coming and going. Tourists here for the Celebration on their way to their hotels. Quadrant-folk intending to stay for the event tonight. Workers changing shift.


    Morton said, "Where to?"


    "Gate 19," I said.


    Morton surveyed the approaching platform with dismay. "How are we going to get through that crowd?"


    I remembered Tony''s little sister Katherine, and let my hair fall loose. I took a decorative hair-comb from my handbag and pulled my hair away from my face, securing it with the comb. Then I tucked up the top of my skirts up under my corset, so my petticoats showed around my ankles. Morton watched me with amusement. "What are you now?"


    "Get up," I said. I picked up Gardena''s hat with one hand and took Morton''s hand in the other, leading him off the train into the masses of people buzzing about the station. Yellow roses lined the entrance, and I picked one, tucking it into my comb. I grabbed his hand and pitched my voice high as a young girl, shouting loud enough for the whole station to hear. "Hurry, Daddy! Hurry! We''re going to miss the zeppelin!"


    Morton laughed as we ran.

 Chapter 2: The Queen of Diamonds - Round 30: The Zeppelin

    We pushed past hordes of people up stairs and through golden stained-glass corridors to a great arching hall of stained glass. Morton hurried to a man in uniform and handed over his newspaper. "Which way to gate 19?"


    "Over there," the man pointed to the far corner.


    "You must stop that zeppelin," Morton said.


    The man chuckled. "Be hard to do, sir," he pointed. Eighty yards away, the door to the outside was being shut. "If you hurry, they might let you on."


    To our dismay, hundreds of people lay before us. But we ran through them, pushing people aside, straining to get to the zeppelin before it rose. Finally, we got to the counter. "You must stop the zeppelin," I panted.


    The woman smiled. "I''m sorry. Once it''s taken off," she pointed at the top of the enormous structure rising through the air, "we can''t call them back." She glanced at Morton. "I can book you and your daughter another flight. Where were you bound?"


    I turned away. Roy expressly forbade me to come here. If I revealed who I was, I was dead.


    If Ma died, did it matter?


    I took a deep breath and faced the woman. "I''m Mrs. Jacqueline Spadros. There''s a bomb on that zeppelin."


    The woman stared at me. "What?"


    "There''s a bomb on that zeppelin," Morton said.


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    She blanched, then grabbed a microphone. "Bomb alert. Bomb alert. Jettison all cargo. I repeat, jettison all cargo immediately." She kept repeating the words.


    Morton and I stared at the zeppelin as it rose, yet the cargo bay doors below stayed shut. Why didn''t they jettison ¡ª


    They knew people were in the hold.


    "Um," Morton said, glancing down at the woman, "I ¡ª"


    The zeppelin engulfed in flame.


    Terror stabbed me. Ma!


    A huge sound, as if the world exploded.


    "LOOK OUT!" Morton pushed me under the counter at the same instant the stained glass windows shattered above us.


    Huge sheets of glass fell to smash on the wooden floor, shards flying like bullets whistling amidst the screams of the panicked crowd as we huddled under Morton''s jacket.


    Silence. A huge sheet of glass crashed to the ground far down the concourse.


    Then all was sobbing and wailing.


    Morton held my upper arms, peering at me. "Are you hurt?"


    I shook my head, tears running down my face.


    Morton helped me up. I stood next to him watching the pieces of zeppelin fall burning from the sky.


    Ma ... I tried so hard to get you somewhere safe. I sent you to your death. I leaned against Morton, weeping as he held me.


    Then: Oh, Anastasia.


    As the last pieces fell, I remembered the foolish big-eared man, Trey, who thought I might marry him.


    Police and zeppelin officials swarmed the area shouting for doctors. People bled all around us. The floor was covered with glass, blood, bodies, crying children, people wailing as they knelt over loved ones.


    Morton grabbed my arm. "We must leave before the police start questioning people."


    We tried every door, every hallway, but they were all blocked, guarded. Finally, I put my hair up, my hat on, and tried to bully a guard into letting us out, telling him my name.


    "I''m sorry, mum, but we can''t let anyone leave. This is a police matter. I can call Mr. Spadros if you wish."


    I turned away, terrified. What would Tony say? What would Roy do?


    But what could I do? I turned back to the guard. "Yes. Tell him I was here to see Dame Anastasia off." I pointed where the zeppelin used to be. "She was on that ship."


    "I''ll have someone contact him right away."


    Morton found some chairs which weren''t damaged, and not too covered in glass, and brushed them off. There we sat while doctors and assistants, police and officials, families and the dead were moved about, until Tony came and they allowed him to fetch us.

 Chapter 2: The Queen of Diamonds - Round 31: The Aftermath

    Tony raged at everyone: Morton, Gardena, her brothers, and above all, at me. I told him of the letter Pearson gave me as I was leaving, how I persuaded Gardena to let me see Anastasia off, how Morton followed us (as Tony asked him to). How Morton protected me when the blast happened.


    None of it mattered. Tony didn''t know where I was, I was hurt (a small piece of glass in my leg), and I had been in terrible danger. Worse yet, I had appeared in public with a bachelor gentleman (and without a female companion), and it had been noted in the papers. He drew his revolver to kill Honor and my driver, but I begged him not to. I told him I disguised myself, evading them on purpose in order to see Anastasia.


    He didn''t speak to me or come to my bed.


    For several days, I didn¡¯t leave my room. I suppose Jane Pearson took care of the household; to this day, I don¡¯t know. Nothing seemed real. Ma was dead.


    Jane planned the outing. Madame Biltcliffe sent her mourning garb to me without my asking. We went to the memorial. I stood as the names of the uppers were read. No one mentioned the hundreds of Pot rags in the hold.


    Ma was dead.


    Anastasia was dead.


    Marja was dead.


    Tony didn''t speak to me. After the memorial, I went to him. "I''m sorry for whatever I did to make you hate me."


    He pulled me to him with a cry, squeezing me so tightly it hurt. "I don''t hate you, no, no, oh gods no. I came so close to losing you. I don''t know what to say or do. I can''t sleep or eat, thinking of how you might have died."


    I put my arms round him. "But I''m here. Why do you not speak to me?" His grip loosened and I took a breath. "Anastasia was my friend, one of the few I had here." It was then the tears finally came for her.


    "Dame Anastasia defrauded many," Tony said. "The papers are full of it." He let go and turned away. "Yet she came to my home, sat at my table. I exposed the three Families here at that table to scorn and speculation."


    I said numbly, "It''s not your fault she did those things. We knew nothing of her crimes. No one blames you."


    He rounded on me. "You think not? Look at my mail. My verified mail. Look at the papers!" He held one up, shook it at me.


    The headline read:


    Families Conspire To Defraud The City?


    Scam Artist Welcomed At Spadros Manor


    Three of four Families present at secret dinner


    "We''re all being implicated by association. Except, of course, the Harts. No one''s made the connection with Master Rainbow being at your side in the station, which I suppose is fortunate for them." He paused. "Merchants across the city who bought her gems and are unable to sell them are ruined. Gentlemen have gone bankrupt." His face turned fierce. "Bankrupt! They want someone to blame, and she''s dead. Who else do they have to turn to but her associates for vengeance?"


    I leaned against a chair, feeling faint. "Are we in danger?"


    "My father''s men have rounded up anyone in the quadrant speaking against our Family. And Mr. Durak no longer is editor of the Bridges Daily."


    What? "Mr. Durak was a good man! Why ¡ª?"


    Tony shook his head. "He let Pike''s editorial pass. He let the financial speculators on his paper whip the people into buying these things. Then he let this filth," he threw the paper down, "about us conspiring to ruin the city pass as well. He''s no use to us. It''s good he''s dead."


    I took a step back. It was as if I no longer knew him. "Tony! How can you speak in this way?"


    His face turned sad. "I can''t always be your Tony. These days, I must be Anthony, heir to the Spadros Family. And that man must be cruel if we''re to survive."


    ***


    The next day, Tony and I went to the bank to retrieve Anastasia''s gems. Mr. Roman confirmed what I feared: the necklace she made decades ago and passed off as worth thousands was a forgery, with clear "miracle" gems inside. "Worthless," Mr. Roman said. "But cleverly done; only a jeweler might know. That must be why she never met with us. Even the settings are steel, colored to resemble the patina of old silver."


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    I had the smaller gems tinted black, then made into necklaces for each of our servant women. The rest I had cut, tinted, and placed into pins for our servant men to wear on their collars. At our outing, I presented them to our servants after I promoted Jane Pearson to housekeeper. Many of the servants wept in gratitude at the gifts and swore their allegiance to us again. That made Tony smile.


    When I presented little Pip with his pin, he hugged me. "Thank you."


    "Is the bed better than the stair?"


    "Yes, mum, much better. And the men are kind to me."


    I hoped Pip never learned he was Roy''s son. But to me he was family. "I''m so glad you''re happy."


    ***


    The lock-box also held an envelope with the deed to a small boarding apartment in the artists'' area of Spadros quadrant, made out in my name. It was half of a duplex, about to be sold for back taxes, but I asked Tony if I might keep it.


    It was on a strange street: long, narrow, and winding. All the buildings on one side of the street were duplexes, separated front to back. Some called the road my apartment faced 33 1/3 Street, others called it Artists'' Alley. It had a kitchen, a dining room, four lower rooms, and one large upper room with picture windows. A shirtless, mustachioed man with his suspenders around his waist watered a rooftop garden across the way.


    I said, "I''ve thought one day to be a patroness, and own property. Perhaps with this, I can do both. We can rent the rooms downstairs to artists, and rent this room out by the hour as a studio for photographers and artists to take portraits. It would show our dedication to making this quadrant more refined."


    "I like this idea," Tony said. "Choose a housekeeper and put an advertisement for rentals."


    And so it was done. But nothing mattered. Ma was dead.


    From that day, I went nowhere without Amelia, not even into my own garden, and extra men followed every move I made.


    My cage tightened around me more with each day.


    ***


    Molly came to visit, and when I saw her, I wept in her arms. Amelia curtsied and left us alone.


    When I calmed, Molly said, "I''m sorry about your friend."


    I nodded, feeling numb.


    "Your Ma is perfectly safe," Molly whispered. "I made sure of it myself. She never left the Cathedral."


    Ma was alive?


    The room turned gray and Molly took my hands as I half sat, half fell into the chair behind me. "You poor dear." She put my feet up, then smoothed my hair.


    I stared at Molly through the haze, mind racing.


    Tony didn''t know. I never said a word to him, hoping against hope Roy never learned I contacted Ma. But now even that hope was lost. "How did you find out?"


    Molly gazed back at me with a slight smile.


    Gardena didn''t know my Ma, nor did Cesare, nor Lance, and even if they did ... they would never have spoken about her, least of all to Molly Spadros.


    Cesare didn''t know it was a person. Lance didn''t know who it was.


    I gasped. There was one other person who knew Ma was going to be on that zeppelin.


    Molly clamped her hand over my mouth, her voice stern. "Outside. Now."


    Frightened, I followed her past the maids in the hallway out into the garden. We sat on a bench where no one else might hear.


    I whispered, "Rachel Diamond. How ... why?"


    Why would she spend her life pretending to be incapacitated?


    "Rachel is ill," Molly said, "but not as ill as people think."


    Molly and Acevedo, Julius and Rachel. They had been friends, in spite of the old hatreds between their Families. Julius and Rachel were there for Molly after Acevedo''s murder. She was there for Julius after Hector and Rachel''s terrible accident.


    For some time after the accident, Rachel seemed lost, but little by little, her mind returned. "She began listening, trying to understand what happened. But people said things around her they never would have before, and she began to spy." Molly glanced away. "We''ve had difficult times over the years, but then ... they came to me with a small problem, and we realized we had more in common than we thought."


    Molly spoke more to herself, it seemed, but then she straightened and faced me. "Rachel took an awful risk getting a message to me. She''s weak and slow-moving, and if anyone knew she was in her right mind she would be a tempting target. She was an Apprentice once, and knows the secrets of both the Apprentices and the Diamond Family. But she''s incredibly brave. You have Rachel Diamond to thank for your Ma''s life."


    Why would Mrs. Diamond help me? I never said a dozen words to the woman.


    I remembered Gardena''s tears at our Queen''s Day dinner. "Why doesn''t she tell her daughter?"


    Molly''s face darkened. "Gardena is a spoiled, willful child, who may get us all killed before this is over."


    Gardena''s own mother doesn''t trust her. "Does Julius know?"


    Molly smiled fondly. "Of course he knows. He''s not as terrible a man as most make him out to be."


    I didn''t think I would get another chance to ask, so I did. "Why does Mr. Diamond hate my husband so?"


    "That''s for Tony to tell ... I''m sorry, I promised him I wouldn''t speak of it, no matter how much you entreated."


    "Something terrible''s happening to him. He doesn''t sleep, he hardly eats. I want to help him. Why does he keep this from me?" Why did he trust me so little?


    Molly laid her hands on mine. "When it''s safe for you to know, you''ll understand."


    I stared at our hands. Who would decide that? Tony? Nothing would ever be safe enough for him, I saw that now.


    "My Ma. What''s to become of her now? Is Roy going to kill us? I didn''t go into the Pot, I swear." I didn''t know if his threats reached to contacting her. "Joseph Kerr''s housekeeper sent word that whoever attacked Tony wanted to kill her too."


    Molly gave me a smile meant to be soothing. "Never fear. There''s no way we would ever let her fall into his hands."


    We. Who was we?


    Then I realized: whoever they were, they needed Ma alive.


    She was their only hold on me.


    I stumbled back to the veranda and sat at the table, staring at my garden. Molly spoke, and Pearson spoke, then Tony spoke. But I heard none of it, even when Tony carried me up to my room as my little bird chirped in the darkness.


    Dame Anastasia was dead by Frank Pagliacci''s hand. Frank Pagliacci was loose, Jack Diamond was loose, and Gardena''s blackmailer was as well. The more I thought about it, the more I came to believe that Joe was right: we were not like these people.


    Poor sad Mr. Durak''s death was the final straw.


    I couldn''t live like this anymore. I needed to get me and Ma out of Bridges before we both ended up dead.


    ~This ends Chapter Two of the Red Dog Conspiracy~

 Chapter 3: The Ace of Clubs - Round 1: The Witness

    A glittering dome sat on a barren plain. Underneath this vast structure, four mighty rivers traveled to its center, passing hills, fields, forests, and a grand city.


    Far in the northeast quadrant amid an expanse of wheat, an enormous stained glass building stood shattered. An army of workers cleared the wreckage around its frame. Nearby, immense hot-air ships rose to, passed through, and descended before the watchful gaze of the Aperture high in the dome¡¯s side.


    Far in the southeast quadrant, mist covered a country road. A dozen black carriages headed towards the city.


    I sat locked inside the third carriage. Pale shapes of trees stood beyond the morning fog.


    I understood better now why David Bryce refused to speak.


    For a month I had stayed at the Spadros Country House ¡ª on doctor¡¯s orders. Yet I hadn¡¯t spent the past month simply sitting in the sun and walking the gardens. I had put a great deal of thought into the events of this current year, most notably Marja¡¯s death.


    My husband Tony sat to my right on the bench seat, holding up a newspaper, the breeze ruffling his straight black hair.


    Master Blaze Rainbow (who I thought of by the name I knew him first as, Morton) sat on the bench seat across from me, his brown Derby hat in his lap. His fingers drummed on the crown of his hat, then he took out his brass pocket watch and wound it.


    Tony¡¯s first cousin, Master Ten Hogan (who the men called Sawbuck), sat across from Tony. He appeared stoic and resigned, as if he had some unpleasant and unwanted task ahead.


    Between me and Tony: my little white and gray bird, perched inside a white rectangular cage bridging the gap between the bench seats.


    I suppose someone thought bringing the bird with us to our Country House would improve my spirits. But I had Tony buy it for me when we married, so I would never forget I lived in a cage.


    One of Tony¡¯s men rode past the window outside, his pistol in its holster.


    My bird chirped in alarm, flitting about as if anxious to be anywhere else.


    I lay my hand on the top of the cage, heart pounding. ¡°Shhh. All is well.¡±


    Tony smiled at it, his dark blue eyes amused, before turning his newspaper to the next page.


    Marja helped raise me. She¡¯d always been kind, especially to my childhood friends Joseph and Josephine Kerr.


    Marja treated Josie as her own daughter: bringing her food, finding shoes for her, combing her hair. When Polansky Kerr IV brought his grandchildren to Hart quadrant, Marja accompanied them as their housekeeper.


    But something went wrong between them: they sent Marja to work for Josie¡¯s uncle in Spadros quadrant. A few weeks later, Marja sent me a note saying ¡°they¡± planned to kill my mother. Her note never said who or why. The night I went to meet with Marja to learn more, Sawbuck and I found her lying on the sidewalk: shot, dying.


    My little bird fluttered around its cage; tiny feathers flew everywhere. I peered at it. ¡°Might we administer a sedative? It seems so agitated.¡±


    Tony shook his head. ¡°The doctor said the bird¡¯s too small for dosing ¡ª an attempt might harm it more than its distress.¡± He glanced out of the window. ¡°We should be home soon.¡±


    My bird perched, its tiny chest heaving.


    One day I¡¯ll fly far from here.


    My eyes burned at the sudden memory. I put my arm around the end of the cage. ¡°All will be well.¡±


    Yet we traveled from one prison to another.


    I had to learn who killed Marja. I had to get me and my Ma out of Bridges before someone killed us too. Frank Pagliacci and Jack Diamond had to pay for what they did to me, David Bryce, his family, my informants, and Tony.


    But locked in that carriage, my captors surrounding it, there seemed no way to achieve any of those things.


    The headline on the front page of Tony¡¯s paper read:


    CORONER¡¯S INQUEST


    Zeppelin Explosion Investigation:


    Clubbs Refuse Federal Oversight


    The headline made perfect sense. I could see no reason to let the Feds into Bridges. This inquest seemed merely a way to placate the city ¡ª and the Traveler¡¯s Federation ¡ª until the Clubb Family disposed of the culprits.


    I peered at the newspaper, but with the breeze moving the page, I couldn¡¯t read the date. ¡°What day is it?¡±


    ¡°The fifteenth of April,¡± Sawbuck said, in a morose tone.


    ¡°Tuesday,¡± Morton said, at the same time.


    Tony seemed not to notice my question.


    ¡°Mr. Spadros, what news interests you so?¡±


    Tony turned his head towards me slowly, his eyes fixed on the page, then looked at me. ¡°It lists who must appear as witnesses before the inquest.¡± He glanced at the newspaper. ¡°It lists half the city!¡±


    Morton said, ¡°A public examination of gentlemen?¡±


    Tony nodded. ¡°The District Attorney demanded it.¡±


    Morton frowned. ¡°It¡¯s unseemly.¡±


    Tony pursed his lips. ¡°I agree.¡± He peered at the paper. ¡°The affair looks to go on for some time.¡± He shook the paper, folded it to present one page. ¡°This article mentions Dame Anastasia ¡ª¡±


    Dame Anastasia Louis had been one of my closest friends amongst the quadrant-folk of Bridges. Now she was dead. Murdered, I suspected, by Frank Pagliacci and his Red Dog Gang.


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    ¡°¡ª and her swindle of the city, but also, her accomplices.¡±


    I leaned forward. ¡°Accomplices?¡± Perhaps I might learn who gave her the bomb which killed her.


    ¡°Well, her ¡®appraisers¡¯,¡± Tony said. ¡°She coached these men to claim her jewels were worth much more than their actual value in return for a cut of the profits. Every one of them has vanished. Their families are understandably distraught.¡±


    Vanished? ¡°This is incredible. How many were there?¡±


    Tony examined the paper. ¡°Over twenty.¡±


    I chuckled in spite of myself. ¡°An Oh-one for certain.¡±


    Sawbuck snickered.


    Tony and Morton stared at us both.


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± Tony said.


    Of course he wouldn¡¯t! ¡°It¡¯s something we did in the Pot. When I was a child. A saying.¡± I glanced at Morton, then Tony. ¡°I¡¯m sure it wouldn¡¯t interest you.¡±


    ¡°Not at all,¡± Morton said. ¡°The Pot¡¯s of special interest.¡±


    Tony¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Is that so?¡±


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Morton said to Tony, ¡°I¡¯ve studied it for many years. The Pot was wealthy and beautiful before the Coup.¡± He shook his head. ¡°A pity.¡± He said to me, ¡°What is this ¡®Oh-one¡¯?¡±


    Sawbuck said, ¡°Mum, that¡¯s not something ¡ª¡±


    Tony said, ¡°Hush, Ten, let her talk.¡±


    Sawbuck frowned, but said nothing.


    I stuck out my hand, the index and thumb together, the middle extended, the rest curled under. ¡°Oh-one. You see? It means ...¡± Absolutely fucked is what it meant, but Sawbuck was right: I probably shouldn¡¯t say that in front of fine gentlemen. ¡°... real trouble: everyone for himself. It means run, and no one stop for anyone else, because otherwise we might all die.¡±


    Tony blinked. ¡°And have you seen this signal used?¡±


    I chuckled. ¡°Once or twice. Usually there¡¯s a meet-up place set beforehand, so you know where to go.¡±


    Tony said, ¡°So assuming they¡¯re not dead, we might find them, if we find their meet-up.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s been over a month,¡± Morton said. ¡°Chances are they¡¯ve met and gone their separate ways.¡± He frowned. ¡°But if their families haven¡¯t heard from them ¡ª¡±


    ¡°So they claim,¡± Sawbuck said.


    ¡°True,¡± said Morton. ¡°But I¡¯d be surprised if any meet-up hasn¡¯t happened already.¡±


    Tony sighed. ¡°I hoped we might have something, some witness or evidence to give to the inquest, if only to offer assistance.¡± Tony turned to me. ¡°I hope this doesn¡¯t distress you.¡±


    I shrugged. The inquest didn¡¯t appear to be my concern.


    The wind gusted in through the open window; my bird chirped and fluttered around the cage.


    I rested my hand on the bars. ¡°Shh, be still.¡±


    My mind had gone round and round this past month, yet I had found few answers.


    I wanted ¡ª no, needed ¡ª to get me and Ma out of Bridges. But I couldn¡¯t think of how.


    I didn¡¯t have enough money for one zeppelin ticket, let alone two. Since the explosion, I was constantly watched, so I couldn¡¯t take new cases. The Traveler¡¯s Federation, outraged over their craft¡¯s destruction, had taken over gate and cargo security in the zeppelin station. Everything was being searched, down to the smallest handbag. So there was no longer even a way to be smuggled out.


    But if I had the tickets in my hand, I couldn¡¯t leave without learning who shot Marja. She was family, and when I found the scoundrel who killed her, he would die.


    I had few tangible clues: her note of warning (which I burned) and a scrap of paper in her dying hand which I couldn¡¯t read. But she sent the warning from a produce distribution center in Spadros quadrant owned by the Clubb syndicate.


    How dare the Clubb Family own a building in Spadros quadrant? Why did Roy Spadros allow it? The idea revolted me.


    Morton said, ¡°Was Dame Anastasia as bad a woman as they make her out to be?¡±


    ¡°You would have liked her,¡± I said. ¡°She was old, yet beautiful ¡ª with a wicked past.¡±


    Morton was in his mid-thirties, and laughed like a man who¡¯d seen more of the world than he liked. ¡°As have we all.¡±


    I considered her last letter: I truly am fond of you, and I wish you well. ¡°But I¡¯d like to think she meant us no harm.¡±


    Tony seemed quite interested in the inquest, and I wondered why. ¡°Who¡¯s to appear? Will we be expected to attend?¡± I didn¡¯t particularly want to go ¡ª I felt sure it would be in some dank court hall on Market Center ¡ª but it seemed best to prepare.


    Tony¡¯s face turned grim. ¡°You¡¯re the key witness.¡±


    My bird chirped and fluttered about its cage.


    ¡°I? For what possible reason?¡±


    Tony folded his newspaper and set it aside. ¡°This is one matter I wished to discuss, since you finally seem to be improving. And since you and Master Rainbow inexplicably appeared at the zeppelin station ¡ª in defiance of my father¡¯s wishes ¡ª as the explosion took place. But up to now, neither of you would speak of it.¡±


    Morton grimaced, glancing away.


    I feared what Tony might do to Morton to uncover the truth, always feeling relieved when I saw Morton unharmed. ¡°I told you what happened.¡± I¡¯d told Tony that we changed plans at the last minute, going to the zeppelin station to see Anastasia off. A bit unbelievable, given Gardena Diamond¡¯s attitude towards the woman, but the best I could come up with.


    Tony said, ¡°What I know is you received a letter. In the midst of your trip to the Diamond Women¡¯s Club, you insisted on going to the zeppelin station.¡±


    ¡°Yet your men forced me to go to Diamond quadrant.¡±


    ¡°They took you where I told them to. We had strict orders not to go into Clubb quadrant until the Celebration. My father didn¡¯t want the Spadros Family entangled in this.¡±


    ¡°So he knew this would happen?¡±


    Tony shook his head. ¡°All we had was rumor. You arrived at the Diamond Women¡¯s Club just before one. The attendants at Gate 19 testified you arrived at the gate as the zeppelin left dock, which was half past three. Where were you the rest of the time?¡±


    Morton didn¡¯t move.


    ¡°We were delayed,¡± I said.


    ¡°By what?¡±


    I faced him. ¡°There was a great deal of traffic.¡±


    ¡°Traffic,¡± Tony said. ¡°You were in traffic, at one in the afternoon, for two and a half hours? Also, the station guard testified that he greeted you ¡ª and a man fitting Master Rainbow¡¯s description ¡ª at the train station entryway. Yet you tell me the Diamonds brought you by carriage, presumably through the front gate. Which is it?¡±


    Morton and I exchanged an alarmed glance. They had the station guard examined? I recalled the man Morton gave his newspaper to, who directed us to the gate. What reason would they have to question him?


    ¡°And so,¡± Tony said, ¡°therein lies the problem. Neither of you will speak. I have need of Master Rainbow ¡ª ¡±


    Why would Tony have so much need of Morton?


    ¡°¡ª so I have not induced him to break his oath ¡ª ¡±


    Oath? I glanced at Morton, surprised, and he nodded to me.


    Very clever, Master Rainbow.


    ¡°¡ª and the doctor has been concerned enough about your condition that I haven¡¯t pressed you. But the board of inquest will ask the same, and any misspoken word could be used against us. I must learn the truth if I¡¯m to help.¡±


    I frowned at him. ¡°Why should I have need of help?¡±


    Tony¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Have you ever been to an inquest? A trial? Court proceedings of any kind?¡±


    ¡°Why, no.¡± No member of the Pot would be brought to trial or stand as witness. We¡¯d either be shot in the street, or deemed unreliable to give evidence in crimes of any magnitude.


    ¡°These are serious matters,¡± Tony said. ¡°We¡¯ll meet with our attorneys to determine how to answer. But the most important thing is to determine the full truth of the matter.¡± He leaned back. ¡°Then we can decide how to play it. We can¡¯t just go in and speak; the words we use might be twisted any number of ways.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    Sawbuck stirred. ¡°It¡¯s open court, mum. The press, the rabble, anyone who wishes to will be present. A stray word, turned into some slogan, and we could have a mob at our door. I don¡¯t mean to alarm you ¡ª it¡¯s just the truth.¡± He lapsed into a glum demeanor, staring out of the window.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Tony said, ¡°Ten ¡ª as usual ¡ª has said it best. So we must plan our course of action before we appear.¡± He leaned against the door frame, closing his eyes.


    I felt relieved that he seemed to have forgotten his original line of questioning. Or wasn¡¯t willing to speak of it further.


    My little bird chirped, but seemed less distraught.


    How could I tell Tony what happened? How could I relate my trip with Gardena Diamond to meet her blackmailer without revealing her role in her grandfather¡¯s death?


    Revealing the contents of Dame Anastasia¡¯s letter, why I defied him and his father, disguised myself, and evaded his men, would reveal a great many things: my detective business, Anastasia¡¯s relationship with Frank Pagliacci, how I learned about their scam.


    If I told Tony that Morton and I rushed to the zeppelin station on the train as the police searched for us with pistols drawn ...


    No. How could I tell Tony about any of it? Yet I felt Sawbuck¡¯s gaze, and realized there was much he hadn¡¯t revealed either. For example, that I wasn¡¯t in my bed ¡ª as Tony believed ¡ª the night of Marja¡¯s murder.


    How long would it be before someone squealed?


    I leaned against the carriage wall, heart pounding. The situation was getting out of control.


    ¡°I have other ways of learning the truth, Jacqui,¡± Tony said, ¡°but I¡¯d rather hear it from you.¡±

 Chapter 3: The Ace of Clubs - Round 2: The Return

    As we approached Spadros Manor, the courtyard bell rang, the signal for the men guarding the grounds to assemble.


    Our butler John Pearson greeted the carriage as we arrived. ¡°Welcome home, mum.¡±


    His brown hair seemed a bit thinner than usual, and he looked tired. ¡°Thank you, Pearson.¡±


    My lady¡¯s maid Amelia rode with her husband Peter and their daughters, and rushed to my side as soon as she alighted. ¡°Here, mum, I¡¯ll take you to your room and get you changed.¡± She helped me down the walkway, up the white stone stairs, across our wide porch.


    Pearson moved past us to open the door. ¡°It¡¯s good to see you improved, mum. I¡¯ve placed your post in a box on the desk in your study. Would you prefer it brought to your rooms?¡±


    ¡°Yes, thank you.¡±


    Tony¡¯s ¡ª or rather, his father Roy¡¯s men assigned to him ¡ª gathered near Tony out at the curb.


    Pearson bowed as Amelia and I turned towards the sweeping curved stair. Most of the other servants had returned here after our outing last month. They stood lined up in the hall, bowing or curtsying to me as we passed.


    Ten year old Pip seemed to have matured in the month we¡¯d been gone, nodding gravely when I smiled at him. Though they¡¯d been apart for almost a month, he didn¡¯t so much as glance at his mother Amelia, nor she at him.


    Our chef Monsieur, a huge, impeccably dressed man, stood beside Anne, our new Mistress of Kitchens. Then the others ... we had several dozen in all.


    The house, a former scientific station turned ¡°manor,¡± was all white ¡ª walls, ceilings, and doors ¡ª with the floor tiled an ugly pale gray. My bedroom, closets, and bath were the same white and gray, with bedding and cushions of an insipid pale blue.


    Nobody had ever cared what I liked or wanted here. Since I couldn¡¯t escape, I endured it, as I endured everything else. I took a deep breath and let it out, trying to keep my anger in check as Amelia undressed me.


    Having a servant do everything for you might sound glamorous. But this card had two sides; I craved being allowed to do what I wanted without eyes on me night and day.


    I stepped out of my petticoats. ¡°Is someone tending to my bird? It seemed distressed.¡±


    ¡°Yes, mum,¡± Amelia said, then untied my corset.


    I disliked wearing a corset, and always felt relieved when it was removed. Amelia put my black house dress (for mourning a disaster or the death of a friend) over my head just in time: a knock came at the door.


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    I smiled at Amelia¡¯s annoyance. ¡°Come in.¡±


    Pearson carried a large box overflowing with mail and set it on the chair closest to him next to my tea-table.


    ¡°Where¡¯s Honor?¡± It was my day footman Skip Honor¡¯s job to carry and fetch things for us during the day while at home.


    ¡°He¡¯s tending to something, mum,¡± Pearson said, then left, closing the door behind him.


    What could he possibly be tending to?


    I let Amelia unlace my boots, pull off my stockings, put on soft black house shoes. I sometimes imagined myself a store mannequin, dressed and undressed, then set to smile and pose.


    Every task had a different outfit a ¡°proper lady¡± wore. My closets overflowed with dresses for every imaginable circumstance. My dressmaker Madame Biltcliffe made my seasonal outfits. But new outfits would appear, sent from Roy and Molly to make sure I was presentable.


    It seems sad and silly, looking back on it, but that was my life.


    Once dressed, my thick curls were combed out, sprayed with water, and redone into a style suitable for what I wore. Even though I saw nothing wrong with my hair, when I struggled, raged, or protested, it inevitably brought a rebuke ¡ª or worse ¡ª from Tony¡¯s father Roy. I might be lady of the house and married to the Spadros Family heir, but Roy Spadros still ruled here.


    I gazed into the mirror. Amelia had braided my hair into an intricate array, weaving in fresh jasmine. ¡°This looks lovely, Amelia, thank you.¡±


    She smiled sadly. ¡°It¡¯s good to see you looking better, mum.¡± Her nose reddened. ¡°I can¡¯t imagine the horrors you saw.¡±


    Amelia never mentioned my refusal to speak or the zeppelin disaster until now. ¡°That¡¯s very kind of you.¡±


    In truth, the zeppelin bombing, the shattering of the station¡¯s ancient stained glass-work, even the death and destruction around me in its aftermath, paled in comparison to the deaths of my friends ...


    ¡°One day I¡¯ll fly far from here. I want to travel the world.¡±


    Amelia rushed for a handkerchief. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, mum, here, you don¡¯t want to spoil your makeup.¡± She dropped her hands to her sides, shoulders drooping. ¡°Please forgive me, mum ... I never meant to bring you grief.¡±


    Grief. I smiled in spite of how I felt, remembering a bench, an empty street, a little boy, and a long time of weeping for us both.


    I longed to see David Bryce again. He needed to know I hadn¡¯t abandoned him. I clasped her hand in both of mine, remembering how at peace I felt after I wept that day. ¡°Grief is the only good thing there is, when all is done.¡±


    Amelia didn¡¯t speak for a bit. ¡°Wise words for one so young.¡±


    Amelia had experienced as much grief as I, if not more. I dabbed at my eyes, blew my nose. Then I forced myself to smile for her sake. ¡°Let¡¯s tackle Pearson¡¯s mountain.¡±


    Amelia chuckled at that, then helped me sort it all. Well-wishes on cards from ladies who barely veiled their disdain for me, yet feared the Spadros Family¡¯s displeasure if seen to be silent. Copies of the Golden Bridges, a disreputable tabloid. A few notes from friends. I put the notes in my pocket to read later.


    I set Amelia to opening the first stack of mail, then, amused, put the newspapers in a pile by my tea-table. Tony forbade anyone to give me a newspaper, read the news aloud, or even leave a paper lying about. I suppose he thought information about the disaster would make my ¡°condition¡± worse. So most of my information came from servants¡¯ whispers.


    I wanted news, but I could read old tabloids any time.


    Pearson¡¯s heavy tread returned. ¡°Luncheon is ready, mum. Would you like it brought to your room?¡±


    ¡°No, I¡¯ll come down. Thank you.¡± In spite of our long journey, I felt better. And despite all its faults, it felt good to return home.

 Chapter 3: The Ace of Clubs - Round 3: The Invitation

    Amelia led me down the stairs, then along the bottom part of the ¡°U¡±-shaped building, then right to the dining room.


    Morton sat near the end of the dining room table closest to us, leaning forward, his elbows on the table. Tony sat across from him, holding a letter. The way Tony sat made him look so defeated and alone that I felt ashamed for causing him turmoil.


    Our month-long ¡°vacation¡± at the Country House had contained little rest. Most days, grief consumed my thoughts. Grief for Anastasia, for Marja, and for all the others now lost.


    Tony¡¯s days were filled with meetings, his men arriving and departing well into the night. His slumber had been much the same as mine, waking in a sweat, or in shouts of alarm, and he would never say why. But he never asked for his husband¡¯s prerogative, and for that I felt grateful.


    When Tony saw us, he asked Pearson to move luncheon to the veranda.


    My little bird seemed happier in its big white wrought iron cage, and it chirped when I came outside. Morton, wearing a brown wool jacket and tan pants, followed at a distance, taking a seat across from Tony, leaving a chair between himself and me.


    Our housekeeper Jane Pearson was busily straightening the steaming trays. Her round face was red, a lock of graying blonde hair plastered to its side.


    Her daughter Mary began setting the table. ¡°That little thing gave us no end of trouble.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± I said.


    Jane frowned at Mary. ¡°The missus doesn¡¯t need to concern herself with that.¡±


    ¡°No, it¡¯s fine.¡± I turned to Mary. ¡°What happened?¡±


    Pearson came to the table. ¡°Your bird got loose, mum. Took Honor by surprise and flew off a bit. It took some doing to catch it, but it¡¯s back safe, no worries.¡±


    I laughed, turning to my bird. ¡°Good for you!¡±


    Mary approached with some trepidation and curtsied. ¡°Pork potato hash, spring peas, mint cake, mum.¡±


    ¡°Very good, Mary, thank you.¡±


    She curtsied, gave her parents a glance, then brought the filled plates to us. I poured Tony, Morton, and myself some tea.


    Tony seemed to relax when I did that, and we began to eat, the servants retreating to a discreet distance.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you feel well enough to join us,¡± Tony said.


    ¡°Thank you.¡± I hoped we wouldn¡¯t continue our earlier conversation. There was nothing I might add, and the matter might become heated if Tony were to agitate himself on the topic.


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    Morton said, ¡°Your butler brought you a mountain of post!¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± I said. ¡°Mostly cards, but I do have some notes yet unopened.¡± I paged through them ... ¡°One from Jon ¡ª¡±


    I hadn¡¯t seen Jonathan Diamond since Queen¡¯s Day dinner two months ago. But he¡¯d sent a note to the Spadros Country House twice a week like clockwork.


    ¡°Oh?¡± Tony said. ¡°I¡¯m surprised he knew to send it here rather than the Country House.¡±


    Of course Jon knew what went on in my life. In light of what he¡¯d said in the past, Jon must have spies near the houses surrounding us. But that knowledge was a comfort to me.


    ¡°How¡¯s he feeling?¡± Tony said.


    ¡°¡®Much improved,¡¯ he says. He¡¯ll call when we¡¯re ¡®at home¡¯.¡±


    In Bridges, being ¡°at home¡± simply meant you wanted and were able to receive company; it had nothing to do with whether you were at the house. I returned Jon¡¯s note to my pocket and took up the next. ¡°Here¡¯s a note from Gardena ¡ª¡±


    Tony¡¯s jaw tightened, but he said nothing.


    At the time, I didn¡¯t know what went on between Mr. Anthony Spadros and Miss Gardena Diamond (Jon¡¯s sister). But Gardena and Tony had a long history of animosity, particularly on her part, although at times Tony appeared to be in love with her.


    Tony blamed Gardena for my presence at the zeppelin station during the explosion, even though I told him going there was my idea. Since then, he became angry whenever her name was mentioned. So I didn¡¯t open the letter, but set it hastily aside.


    ¡°¡ª and one from Madame Biltcliffe!¡±


    My dear Mrs. Spadros ¡ª


    Madame Marie Biltcliffe sends her compliments and hopes to have the pleasure of your company for tea on Thursday, April Seventeenth.


    This was a novelty. I wondered what it might mean.


    ¡°Perhaps Madame would like to make your acquaintance,¡± Tony said, ¡°aside from simply being your dressmaker¡± ... and it was then I realized I had spoken aloud.


    ¡°Of course,¡± I said, cheeks burning. ¡°I¡¯d be happy to take tea with her.¡±


    ¡°Only if you feel well enough,¡± Tony said. ¡°There¡¯s no obligation for you to do anything whilst in mourning.¡±


    I nodded. He had to explain it to me, as ... well, in the Pot, people died every day. If one went about all this ritual every time someone died, nothing would get done.


    Madame let me use my visits to her shop as a cover. Tony would believe me to be there when I was actually on a case. Perhaps I¡¯d finally be able to visit David Bryce. ¡°I can send a note if I don¡¯t feel well. What will you do with yourself?¡±


    Tony shrugged, his eyes on his plate. ¡°I¡¯ve been away from the Business far too long. I have more than enough work to do.¡±


    I took a sip of tea. ¡°I noticed you also received mail.¡±


    Tony gave a bitter snort. ¡°Indeed.¡± He pulled an invitation from his breast pocket: cream stationery edged in gold, the Clubb Family¡¯s symbol upon the envelope flap.


    Mr. and Mrs. Alexander Clubb present their compliments to Mr. and Mrs. Anthony Spadros and request the honor of their company at the launching of their newest yacht, the Ace of Clubbs, on the Twenty-First of April next.


    Northwest Quadrant Marina


    R. S. V. P.


    ¡°This is in six days!¡± To send a major invitation less than three weeks in advance was exceedingly rude.


    ¡°My sincerest apologies, mum,¡± Pearson said. ¡°It was sent a month ago, but here, and never forwarded. In the confusion it was lost until now.¡± He straightened. ¡°I take full responsibility.¡±


    I shrugged. It didn¡¯t matter. ¡°The Ace of Clubbs?¡± To place the name of a Holy Card on an inanimate object, no matter how grand, bordered on blasphemy. From what I¡¯d seen of the Clubb Family so far, though, I shouldn¡¯t have been surprised.


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Tony said bitterly. ¡°One of their plots come to hatch at last.¡±


    Morton said nothing, focused as he was on his luncheon.


    ¡°Will we attend?¡± I never knew which events we could miss and which were vital. And this invitation seemed to dismay him.


    Tony rested his elbows on the table, his head in his hands, murmuring, ¡°What would my grandfather have done?¡±


    He sat like this for a long moment, then straightened, facing me. ¡°Yes, we¡¯ll attend. Invitations to these launchings aren¡¯t given lightly. All the other Families will be represented, and we can¡¯t be seen to slight the Clubbs, not now.¡±

 Chapter 3: The Ace of Clubs - Round 4: The Departure

    My gaze flickered to Morton. Should Tony have said that in front of him? We still didn¡¯t know where his loyalties lay.


    The day Gardena asked for help with her blackmailer, she told me: Cesare says the Clubbs are the most dangerous Family in the city, much too dangerous to ally with.


    Gardena¡¯s oldest brother was a disagreeable fellow, yet possessed keen insight. What did we know about the Clubbs?


    Footsteps headed our way. Inventor Maxim Call, a brown, wiry old man with piercing blue eyes, strode out wearing a dusty tweed jacket, several white-clad Apprentices in his wake.


    We immediately rose; the men bowed.


    I curtsied low. ¡°Would you like tea, sir?¡±


    Maxim Call considered the matter. ¡°A cup would do.¡± He turned to his Apprentices. ¡°Wait with the carriages.¡± He sat between Tony and Morton, across from me.


    I poured his cup, then returned to my seat.


    ¡°To what do we owe the honor of your visit, sir?¡± Tony said.


    Inventor Call blew on his tea, then took a sip. ¡°My work''s done here. There¡¯s nothing more we can do for your Magma Steam Generator. We''ve searched thoroughly ¡ª the controls to it must be in another piling. We¡¯ve located a piling in Spadros quadrant and are moving to investigate.¡±


    Tony¡¯s mouth hung open. ¡°You¡¯re leaving?¡±


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    ¡°Some of my Apprentices will stay in the workshop. I¡¯ll have the man in charge introduce himself. But,¡± he wagged a finger, ¡°they¡¯ll only stay until their work¡¯s completed. I left instructions with your butler as to where we¡¯ll be and what we¡¯ll need.¡±


    Tony paused for a long moment. ¡°There¡¯s something you should be aware of.¡±


    The Inventor was in the midst of drinking. ¡°Oh?¡±


    ¡°A group called the Red Dogs has attacked several Families, ranging from theft to violence. I¡¯ve even been assaulted.¡± Tony hesitated. ¡°I can¡¯t guarantee your safety should you leave.¡±


    ¡°No one would dare attack us!¡± He chuckled, patting Tony¡¯s arm. ¡°I appreciate your concern, dear boy. But I don¡¯t order my affairs according to the whims of ruffians. Neither should you.¡± He drained his cup then rose, as did we all. ¡°Good day.¡±


    With that, he turned back inside.


    ¡°Wait,¡± Tony said. ¡°What about my mechanical computer?¡±


    Inventor Call stopped in the middle of the dining room, then spoke to Tony as if he were a child. ¡°It¡¯s a fine idea. Yet how would you operate it without power?¡± He shook his head. ¡°Finding the controls to the Generators takes precedence over everything. I have a man working on your gadget. But my job lies elsewhere.¡± He rounded the corner and was gone.


    Tony sat heavily, shock on his face. ¡°Maxim Call has been in Spadros Manor since I was a boy.¡±


    Morton said, ¡°What¡¯s wrong with your Steam Generator?¡±


    Tony and I exchanged a glance. If Maxim Call knew about this, the other Inventors did too. But if the public learned Bridges neared standstill because we couldn¡¯t fix our own Generators, then the Feds might seize the city, claiming mismanagement.


    I didn¡¯t know how much Morton knew. Obviously, Tony had such a binding deal with Morton that he trusted him, even though Morton refused to reveal what happened the day of the explosion. Tony had beaten our old Dr. Salmon ¡ª who¡¯d been in the Family for generations ¡ª for a similar offense.


    ¡°He claims it needs repair,¡± Tony said. ¡°But he¡¯s got the situation under control.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s good to hear,¡± Morton said. ¡°An entirely mechanical city such as this ¡ª without power ¡ª would be unlivable.¡±


    I pictured the rivers stagnant, the streetlights dark, the trains silent, the Aperture unable to open, and I shuddered.

 Chapter 3: The Ace of Clubs - Round 5: The Fear

    The rest of the day, Amelia and I catalogued the notes I received. Jane had ordered thank you cards edged in black (for replying to notes of sympathy). After tea, I spent an hour signing them for Amelia to address and send.


    Exhausted, I took dinner in my room, Tony at my side. We ate in silence, but gradually my strength returned. ¡°Do we need to fear this invitation from the Clubbs?¡±


    That sent Tony into a long period of motionless staring at his plate. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± he said at last. ¡°But I fear it nonetheless.¡±


    ¡°At the Grand Ball, didn¡¯t they invite us to visit?¡± Mrs. Clubb invited us to stay a whole week at Clubb Manor. We¡¯d never been invited there before, which is why the comment marked itself so firmly in my mind. But the visit never occurred.


    Tony nodded. ¡°Something happened.¡± He drained his glass. ¡°I fear they disliked my answer to Lance on Queen¡¯s Day.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s it to be named?¡±


    Lance Clubb leaned towards me with a wry smile. ¡°They haven¡¯t decided yet. We¡¯re considering the Asking Bid.¡±


    At the time, it seemed he asked us to declare our allegiances. A test, if you will.


    I let out a breath, placed my hand on his. ¡°I didn¡¯t know how to answer. Why approach us in front of guests?¡±


    ¡°Why approach us at all? As if I have any say in who the Family allies with.¡± Tony put down his fork. ¡°My father is still Patriarch, and probably will be long after we¡¯re gone.¡±


    I chuckled at that.


    ¡°But perhaps they have approached my father,¡± Tony said.


    This startled me. ¡°They suspect our Family¡¯s divided.¡±


    ¡°And now they know.¡± Tony shook his head. ¡°Whatever possessed me to name the Harts? My father hates Charles Hart as fiercely as magma hates rock ¡ª he wishes nothing less than his utter destruction.¡±


    ¡°But why does he hate him? Do you know?¡±


    Tony held my hand in both of his, kissing it with a desperate intensity. ¡°No, and it frightens me.¡± He squeezed his eyes shut. ¡°Did you know he started the Bloody Year?¡±


    Thousands died ¡ª long before either of us were born ¡ª as Family slaughtered Family. ¡°He did?¡±


    Tony nodded, his eyes still closed. ¡°And he was my age.¡± He peered at me. ¡°Almost exactly. I don¡¯t understand anything about him. Yet now I¡¯m sure he feels I oppose him. What might a man like that do when taken by such hate?¡±


    * * *


    Later, after the servants undressed us, Tony came to me.


    I knew what Tony would do and say; back then, it seemed impossible for him to hide his feelings from me.


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    ¡°Let¡¯s lie down and love each other, as we used to before all this tragedy.¡± He reached up to touch my face, then slid his hand behind my neck and kissed me.


    I didn¡¯t love Tony, except sometimes as a brother. But his father Roy put a gun to my head before we were married and told me that if Tony learned this, he would kill me.


    Tony put his arms around me, sliding them up and down my back as we kissed, his cock hard against the front of my body.


    If I thought about it too much it made my skin crawl.


    I must not weep. I had to stop the roiling of my stomach.


    I can do this, I thought, as I did almost every night.


    My mother trained me in her brothel beside the other girls, in everything but the act itself. That had been forbidden me by my mother¡¯s patron, who I secretly called the Masked Man because of the dark brown leather mask he wore showing only his eyes.


    I was never allowed to touch a man, or even to be in the room when others did, always observing in darkness behind sheer curtains. What fault did the Masked Man find in me to forbid me to take my place with the other women?


    Maybe he recognized my inability to put aside my personal wishes and fuck a man I didn¡¯t desire.


    The thought startled me. Tony said, ¡°What is it?¡±


    Oh, gods, he knows something isn¡¯t right. I took a deep breath. ¡°I felt off-balance.¡± I forced myself to giggle. ¡°That¡¯s all.¡±


    Tony laughed. ¡°Let¡¯s lie down then, before we fall over.¡±


    We lay down. Tony drew the covers over me, slid his arm under my neck, caressed my face.


    My husband was an ordinary-looking man, but the way he gazed at me ... it made me sad. Yes, he was in the Family, but he wasn¡¯t evil: he deserved so much better than this pretense.


    Perhaps he saw my sadness, because he said, ¡°Your life has been very hard, I see that now. When you spoke about being put in such danger as a small girl ... it troubled me.¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°What does it matter? All that is past.¡±


    He reached over to smooth my hair. ¡°It matters because it¡¯s part of you. We¡¯ve been in each other¡¯s lives ten years, married almost four, yet I never knew this. It makes me wonder what else I don¡¯t know.¡± He smiled in a free, relaxed manner, and in that instant he reminded me of the man I loved, Joseph Kerr. ¡°I want to know everything about you, Jacqui. Everything. I love you.¡±


    Oh no. The last thing I wanted was for him to start asking questions, especially about my past. My mind raced, searching for something to divert this line of thought.


    And I had an idea.


    I hated it. It was so dishonest. And I feared what he might say. Would he think I was too forward? Would he rebuke me? Men here were so different than in the Pot; for a woman here even to smile might be improper, depending on the circumstances.


    But I had to do something.


    I can do this. ¡°Let¡¯s talk of that later.¡± I snuggled closer, sliding my trembling hand on his cock. He gasped as I stroked his skin, his body stiffening to my touch.


    He closed his eyes, and a deep moan came forth I had never heard him make before. ¡°Oh, Jacqui.¡±


    It seemed, at least for a time, that all discussion was forgotten.


    * * *


    The intersection was grimy, dark, cold. I was small and frightened.


    A reeking hand grabbed my arm. I couldn¡¯t get away. I couldn¡¯t get away! ¡°If she goes, I go with her.¡±


    My best friend Air stared at Peedro Sluff in horror. ¡°No!¡± He ran towards us brandishing a broken bottle. ¡°Leave her alone!¡±


    Peedro¡¯s gun rose, and he shot Air.


    The light left Air¡¯s eyes as they stared into mine. The color left his face, and his little body collapsed into the spray of his own blood.


    I stood in the stairwell in Jack¡¯s factory. Bodies lay everywhere. Losing balance, I fell forward onto Air¡¯s chest. His blood, welling up through his shirt, covered my hands.


    Stephen, Herbert, Marja, and Anastasia lay crumpled around me.


    Air opened his eyes. ¡°We loved you, Jacqui. Why did you kill us?¡±


    Tony held me. ¡°I¡¯m here, my love. You¡¯re safe.¡±


    Tony¡¯s cousin Blitz Spadros, our night footman, opened the door, candle in hand. ¡°Another dream?


    Embarrassment flooded over me. I sobbed, ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    Blitz smiled. ¡°No trouble at all, mum. Good night.¡±


    Tony rocked me as I clung to him, and eventually he slept.


    But I did not.

 Chapter 3: The Ace of Clubs - Round 6: The Leader

    The next morning, Amelia came in with my mail and ¡ª finally ¡ª the newspaper! To my surprise, the front read:


    The Bridges Daily


    Editor: Mr. Paul Blackberry


    Good for him, I thought. I¡¯d known Mr. Blackberry since I was a small girl, back when he was a photographer. Prior to becoming editor, he¡¯d been one of my informants; his position at the Clubb desk gave him access to all kinds of information.


    The Spadros Family murdered the former editor, Mr. Acol Durak, after he let articles supporting Anastasia¡¯s fraud and an editorial maligning the Families pass his inspection.


    Killing Mr. Durak was so unnecessary, I thought. The man was grieving his wife ¡ª


    At that instant, I recalled Mr. Blackberry¡¯s words: suicidal, if you ask me.


    And I realized Mr. Durak worked with Dame Anastasia and Frank ¡ª and perhaps even allowed Mr. Pike¡¯s editorial to pass ¡ª in hopes the Families would kill him.


    I didn''t understand it. Even during my worst days after being sold to the Spadros Family, I never considered taking my own life.


    Under Mr. Blackberry¡¯s guidance, the paper had changed little. The purpose of the Bridges Daily was to promote the views of the Families, rather than to provide any real news. However, it devoted a whole section to the inquest ¡ª those scheduled to appear that day and a summary of the previous day¡¯s testimony.


    The financial news was bleak. Listings for sales of production equipment, buildings, and businesses spanned an entire page. A list of bankruptcy proceedings on the back page left me shocked.


    That many speculated on Dame Anastasia¡¯s ¡°miracle¡± gems?


    And we had invited her into our home. In their view, we ¡ª everyone at my dinner ¡ª were suspected collaborators.


    * * *


    At breakfast, Tony seemed much happier. He went off to tend to the Business after the morning meeting with the staff, and I went to my study.


    I wrote to Jon, informing him we arrived safely. Then I opened Gardena¡¯s note, which was from her Country House:


    My dear Mrs. Spadros ¡ª


    I¡¯m so glad to hear you¡¯re feeling improved. Jon and I will visit as soon as we can. We both are eager to see you again, and ¡ª


    Oh, dear, I thought. Tony will not be happy to find her here.


    I wrote in return:


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Dearest Gardena ¡ª


    Thank you so kindly for your letter. I hope you and your family are well.


    I¡¯m afraid Mr. Spadros is in poor humor at present. It might be best if Jon visited alone.


    I¡¯m sorry to be the bearer of such bad news. I remain hopeful that in time my husband¡¯s disposition will improve.


    I¡¯m feeling quite well. I miss seeing you and look forward to visiting together in the future.


    The clock struck eleven. I put the pen down, gazing out of the window. Tony blamed Gardena for my being at the station because I told him she brought me there.


    But what else could I have said? That I went into Clubb quadrant on my own, uninvited, in direct defiance of orders from Roy Spadros?


    Roy hadn¡¯t contacted us about any of it. I couldn¡¯t imagine Tony¡¯s father reacting in any other way than fury.


    Since I had little control over this, I lit a cigarette, taking a drag, then poured a glass of bourbon from the bottle I kept on my sideboard. It was well past time to plan my investigations.


    It seemed unlikely that the perpetrators of this year¡¯s events ¡ª robberies, kidnappings, murders, and bombings ¡ª plotted and executed these on their own. In my estimation, Frank Pagliacci ¡ª while evidently charismatic ¡ª was neither skilled nor intelligent enough. Jack Diamond, Jonathan¡¯s mad twin brother ¡ª though rich and powerful ¡ª wasn¡¯t sane (by all accounts) for long enough. Thus, this team had a leader yet unseen who directed Frank Pagliacci and Jack Diamond to carry out these crimes.


    This man had significant personal power to persuade two such men to do his bidding. He had tremendous means to afford to hire so many men to assist them. He needed remarkable mental skill to plan and implement a conspiracy of this magnitude. And we still didn¡¯t know how far the conspiracy went, or even the man¡¯s true motivations.


    Whoever their leader was, he frightened me.


    Three women assisted these men: the rogue Federal Agent Zia Cashout, Dame Anastasia Louis (now dead), and a black-haired woman named Birdie.


    What they¡¯d accomplished so far was to take the name and markings of the Red Dogs children¡¯s street gang, and frame this gang for the crimes. They then accessed the Hart and Spadros Family funds through forged invoices, in order to do ... what?


    If bombing the zeppelin was their goal, there would have been ultimatums, declarations of their intentions, or proclamations of who they were and what they accomplished. Yet no one had said anything of the sort, which suggested the bombing was merely a means to an end.


    But what did the murder of hundreds gain them?


    I lit another cigarette from the stump of the first, then poured another glass of bourbon.


    None of the Families had a motive to bomb the zeppelin, especially on the day of the Celebration. In fact, it was an affront, to the Clubbs in particular.


    Could this madness be led by a disgruntled aristocrat? An heir of one of the old families who escaped the Pot before the overthrow of the Kerr Dynasty? That seemed an avenue worth investigating, although I wasn¡¯t sure how.


    With Anastasia gone, my door to them had closed. Certainly, they were cordial, at least in public. But in the past, whenever I¡¯d called, they¡¯d suddenly be ¡°not at home.¡±


    I suppose inviting a Pot rag into your home ¡ª especially a ¡°Family pet,¡± as one called me ¡ª was too much for these women.


    I swirled the bourbon in my glass. Not all of the Red Dogs¡¯ purchases using our money had been accounted for. For example, why were they buying black cloth? And what did they buy using the Hart Family¡¯s money?


    I wrote letters to my contacts, asking who raised accusation against the Harts that they failed to pay. The sort of merchant targeted would reveal much.


    But did they just target the Spadros and Hart Families? No, they tried to blackmail Gardena Diamond as well.


    Could this be a Clubb plot?


    The Clubbs were known as the spy-masters of Bridges. The Spadros Family had dealt in violence these many years; the Clubbs preferred information. Rumor had it you might secure a better price on your zeppelin ticket ¡ª or even fly free ¡ª should you share a secret they didn¡¯t already know.


    But would Lance Clubb blackmail the woman he¡¯d just asked to court? If so, why?

 Chapter 3: The Ace of Clubs - Round 7: The Pain

    The clock struck half past eleven. Pearson stood facing away outside the door, hands behind his back. ¡°May I help you, mum?¡±


    I handed him the letters. ¡°Is Master Rainbow here?¡±


    ¡°No, mum, he and Mr. Anthony left together. They aren¡¯t expected back until after dinner.¡±


    I returned to my study. I¡¯d hoped to get Morton¡¯s impressions on the matter, but it would have to wait.


    Someone had tried to kill Morton once already by bombing his yacht as he slept. Although Morton disagreed, I felt certain this was the work of Frank Pagliacci and his false Red Dog Gang. Then Birdie shot at Morton outside Vig¡¯s saloon. My guess was that Birdie was one of Frank Pagliacci¡¯s lovers, who he was using as he used Dame Anastasia, Zia, and who knows how many others.


    Morton¡¯s encounter with Birdie the night Marja died might have been by chance. Meeting Morton probably surprised her ¡ª especially if she believed him dead ¡ª her shot being a way to garner favor with Frank by killing Morton for certain.


    A female secretary was strange enough, but carrying a gun?


    If I could learn this woman¡¯s true identity, it might help. Birdie was present moments before Marja died; perhaps she saw the man who killed her.


    I had no real information on Birdie other that she was young and pretty (or at least Morton thought so), with black hair. I needed to speak with Morton further about her ¡ª if we ever got a chance to speak without others present.


    I¡¯d been accompanied by a maid, waiter, footman, or nurse almost every second of every day of the past month up to now, which infuriated me. Perhaps I didn¡¯t choose to speak, or have anything to say, but I was no invalid. At times I suspected they knew it, that this intense scrutiny was my punishment for causing them trouble.


    Dr. Salmon approved me to return to the Manor as long as I took daily walks in the garden. So after luncheon, I asked Amelia to show me the flowers she put in my hair.


    We ambled along the paths. Many of the plants reminded me of Ma¡¯s garden.


    ¡°You stupid girl! You¡¯ve ruined everything!¡±


    Ma dragged me by one arm through her garden to the carriage, shoved me inside.


    Why did she never contact me? Didn¡¯t she care?


    Shaking my head to clear it, I followed Amelia to a bush in the far corner. I brought a white blossom to my face, inhaled, the scent bringing back intense happiness and pain.


    Oh, Nina.


    What did they do to you?


    ¡°Mum, what¡¯s wrong?¡±


    I shook my head, forcing the terrible image from my mind. ¡°Old memories, Amelia, nothing more.¡±


    ¡°Here, mum, let¡¯s get you into the shade.¡±


    I sat on the grass, closing my eyes, willing back the tears. I couldn''t remember her that way. I couldn''t.


    I was thirteen when I first saw her.


    Amelia fanned me. ¡°Here, stretch out for a while. Do you need a drink of water?¡±


    Nina Clubb stepped into the hallway of Spadros Manor, the afternoon sun shining golden through the open doorway on her rosy cheeks. Laughing, she turned to me, her glossy dark brown hair loose like a young girl¡¯s, flowing like water straight and heavy past wide hips.


    Our eyes met, and I could see nothing else.


    ¡°No, Amelia, I¡¯ll be fine.¡± Why did I think of Nina Clubb now, after so many years? ¡°I¡¯m just tired.¡±


    I lay gazing at the flowers for some time.


    ¡°It¡¯s almost time for tea. Would you like it out here?¡±


    ¡°That would be lovely.¡±


    Amelia left, returning with Pearson¡¯s sons, who carried a tea-table and chairs. Mary appeared a bit later with our tea.


    ¡°I¡¯ll take dinner in my rooms today,¡± I told Amelia. ¡°And bring some of these flowers for my dresser.¡±


    ¡°Yes, mum. Whatever you need.¡±


    After Amelia set the vase of jasmine in my room, I lay on my bed, eyes closed.


    The aroma of jasmine lay thick in the air ... we lay on our stomachs facing each other on a blanket in the shade of a brilliant summer. Thick straight hair spilled beside round freckled cheeks as her brown eyes met mine. I longed to touch her hair, her face, her lips.


    ¡°One day I¡¯ll fly far from here,¡± Nina said. The polished wooden beads in her necklace rustled as she moved. ¡°I want to travel the world.¡±


    Some day I¡¯d be in a position to avenge Nina, and all the spying in the world wouldn¡¯t save Mrs. Clubb.


    Tony returned from whatever he was doing well after dinner, climbing into bed. I turned away as he slid his arm under my pillow, molded his body to mine. ¡°I hear you¡¯ve had a long day.¡± He stroked my hair, kissed it. ¡°Just rest.¡±


    I laid my cheek on my pillow, still damp from my tears.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    I wished I could rest without nightmares, as I did the night after I rescued David. Yet it was not to happen.


    * * *


    The next afternoon, Amelia dressed me in my peacock blue dress to visit Madame Biltcliffe¡¯s instead of mourning garb. But only after I agreed to wear a long, elderberry-colored shawl to cover it, with a matching hat and veil. ¡°This is most unwise, mum,¡± Amelia said. ¡°It¡¯s unseemly to wear bright colors now. And you can¡¯t be recognized out and about, it isn¡¯t safe.¡±


    Somehow she knew I meant to do more than take tea with Madame Biltcliffe. Was I so transparent? ¡°It¡¯s our favorite dress.¡± Tony said he liked it because it matched my eyes. ¡°Have you sent Madame Biltcliffe¡¯s mourning garb back to her?¡±


    Amelia blinked. ¡°Why, of course, as soon as she sent yours here, just before we left for the Country House.¡±


    I smiled. ¡°Good. Thank you.¡±


    Amelia stared at me for a moment, then nodded. ¡°Keep this veil with you, mum. It¡¯s a good one.¡±


    You mean, it¡¯s thicker than Madame¡¯s, should I go out. I patted her hand. ¡°Don¡¯t worry; I¡¯m just going to take tea with Madame.¡±


    That day, outriders surrounded the carriage. Outriders had never joined me when I traveled to Madame''s shop before. But my old enemy Jack Diamond, a volatile man with a keen hate for my family, had already entered our quadrant more than once despite guards at the bridges and waterfronts.


    Madame Biltcliffe¡¯s dress shop was on 42nd Street, with a lovely oak storefront and large beveled glass windows behind which stood perfectly coiffed and dressed mannequins.


    Today, though, the mannequins stood in odd spacing, as if recently moved and not checked. A hat-pin lay on the floor. The oak chair trimmed in brass which normally held a placard referencing her work for me was missing, and the window hastily cleaned. Bits of eggshell adorned the sidewalk.


    Madame, a handsome middle-aged woman with black hair, came outside as the Spadros Family carriage pulled up. Honor came round to help me from the carriage, and I thanked him, as I always do.


    Madame approached to greet me. ¡°Welcome, Mrs. Spadros! Come inside.¡± She glanced over my shoulder.


    Honor smiled, tipping his hat. For the first time in memory, he was armed. He¡¯d never gone armed before, not even when we went to visit other quadrants.


    What was going on here?


    ¡°I¡¯m so glad you could visit, my dear.¡± Madame ushered me inside, then locked the door, turning the sign on it to ¡°Closed: entry by appointment only.¡±


    As it turned out, Madame Biltcliffe really did want to take tea with me; she had small cakes filled with jelly set out with the usual tea and toast. They were delicious.


    ¡°I thought you might need time away from the home and servants,¡± she said, ¡°but it is pleasant to know you better.¡±


    ¡°I appreciate your help.¡±


    She waved it off. ¡°It¡¯s nothing. Long ago, I needed time to myself, so I have since then always been mindful of ways to help other women.¡± She smiled knowingly. ¡°Perhaps some day I can be of aid in that way as well.¡±


    I laughed. A romance affair? I felt a stab of longing for Joseph Kerr. But was it fair to encourage his ardor? Was it right to put him in such danger?


    If only I had listened to Air, to my Ma ... Joe and I would be together now. None of the past ten years would have happened.


    ¡°Your face shows regret,¡± Madame Biltcliffe said. ¡°Never feel sorrow for what is no more.¡± She patted my hand. ¡°Be happy for what is now.¡±


    I took a deep breath and let it out, feeling melancholy. ¡°Tell me about yourself, Madame.¡±


    ¡°Please, call me Marie.¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    ¡°Ah, well,¡± Madame said, ¡°there¡¯s not much to tell. My husband was a ... you say ¡®stodgy¡¯ ... aristocrat in an equally stodgy town. I took time to myself,¡± she glanced aside with a sad, wistful smile, ¡°yet that didn¡¯t last as long as I liked. He discovered my secret, so I came here.¡±


    ¡°And he hasn¡¯t searched for you?¡±


    She laughed. ¡°Oh, no. His only concern was that there be no scandal. I much prefer this town, and last I heard he has declared me dead and married a woman half his age.¡± She smiled. ¡°I¡¯m sure we are both happier.¡±


    ¡°So do you enjoy your life here?¡±


    ¡°Why yes. I enjoy my work, I meet many fine women, and from time to time I enjoy the company of those who intrigue me.¡± She smiled.


    At her smile, I blushed: her secret had nothing whatsoever to do with men. ¡°I had no idea.¡± Indeed, I had no inclination, at least, not for Madame. She was beautiful, but as old as my Ma. I suppose up to then I had thought of her more as a mother.


    ¡°Ah. I see,¡± she said, then smiled. ¡°Never fear, ma cherie, we shall remain as dear friends.¡±


    I felt relieved. ¡°That would make me quite happy; you¡¯ve done me a great service over the years.¡± Then I felt chagrined. ¡°I¡¯m sorry it¡¯s taken so long to know each other.¡± I paused, considering. ¡°If I meet anyone who might wish to meet you, in whatever capacity, I¡¯ll speak to you of it at once.¡±


    Madame Biltcliffe gave me a soft smile. ¡°I¡¯m sure that would be lovely.¡± She gazed to the side for a few moments as she sipped her tea. ¡°I suppose you¡¯ll want to borrow my dress.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m astonished: everyone knows my mind today.¡± I wasn¡¯t sure this was a good thing. Perhaps I had been at ease for so long I no longer knew how to keep my plans from my face.


    Madame Biltcliffe chuckled. ¡°I only recall your concern for the boy ... the one whose mother was here last time. And it¡¯s probably safer to wear mourning. But if you wish instead to converse further, or have more tea, or return home, it¡¯s of no consequence.¡±


    I checked the clock: half past five. Should I leave so soon? ¡°If it wouldn¡¯t offend ...¡± I couldn¡¯t see what harm it might do, and I might be of help to David and his mother. ¡°I believe I might make a short trip to Bryce Fabrics after all.¡±


    Madame called out, ¡°Tenni!¡±


    Tenni, a girl of seventeen, came in at once. ¡°Yes, Madame?¡±


    ¡°Clear these plates, then inform the servants of Mrs. Spadros that we will do some preliminary fittings for her Summer gown.¡±


    Tenni curtsied, the reddish-brown curls peeking out from under her shop maid¡¯s cap bouncing as she left with the tray.


    Tenni and I looked similar from behind ¡ª the same hair, height, form, and light brown skin ¡ª so I often used her as a decoy when leaving Madame¡¯s shop to go on my cases.


    When Tenni returned, I put on Madame¡¯s mourning dress, adding my dark purple scarf, hat, and veil. Then Tenni put on my blue dress and fixed her hair. Once Tenni and Madame went into my private dressing room by way of the front room (so my men might believe I was still there), I left using Madame¡¯s back entry.


    This was my first time behind Madame¡¯s shop at this time of day. The alleyway was busier than usual, with men coming and going, deliveries being made and picked up. The men seemed familiar, although I didn¡¯t recall them being here before.


    The streets were the same: unusually crowded, but by no one who seemed out of the ordinary. And no one followed me.


    After David Bryce¡¯s kidnapping, men in brown began following me everywhere, often on orders from Frank Pagliacci. But few of these men wore brown (the color was going out of fashion as spring approached), and the ones who did walked past, paying me no mind whatsoever.


    In the taxi-carriage, I took a jasmine-flower from my handbag.


    ¡°I want to travel the world,¡± said Nina.


    ¡°I do too.¡±


    ¡°We could take zeppelins to the seashore, then hire ourselves onto a steamship bound for Europe.¡±


    I gasped at the idea. ¡°Could we really go round the world?¡±


    ¡°Why not?¡± Nina put her plump freckled arm up as men do when they wrestle. ¡°Let¡¯s make a pact on it.¡±


    Overwhelmed, I cradled her face in my hands and kissed her. A brief hesitation, then her arm went round my shoulders as she kissed me.


    In that brief instant, I was happy as I¡¯d never been before: she loved me too.


    Madame had taken an awful risk to speak as she did. She worked with women of high standing every day; with one word I was in position to ruin her should matters have turned badly.


    ¡°Girls!¡± Mrs. Clubb pulled me and Nina apart. ¡°This is not the way to behave! It¡¯s time for Jacqui to go home.¡±


    I only saw Nina once more. To this day, I wish I hadn¡¯t.


    At the time, I thought: What did they do to her? Was what happened to her because of me?

 Chapter 3: The Ace of Clubs - Round 8: The Excursion

    The taxi-carriage deposited me on a lonely, windblown street in front of a peeling white storefront.


    Acevedo Spadros II brought young Molly Hogan here to run a new grocery at the start of their own romance affair. I imagined times long past, when the streets raged with Family warfare.


    As I entered, the hinges squealed; a bell rang. Rows of low shelves displayed dusty out-of-date fabrics. The peeling gray-green paint did little to make the cold room appear any better. Across the room, a rickety counter stood in front of a doorway missing its door, the bare wall past it lit by an overcast sky.


    A woman with graying brown hair dressed in widow¡¯s brown came into view. ¡°May I help you?¡±


    I rushed over. ¡°It¡¯s me. Jacqui. How is he?¡±


    Eleanora Bryce sagged. ¡°I¡¯m glad I didn¡¯t recognize you.¡± She came around the counter. ¡°Come, it¡¯s not safe for you to be here.¡±


    I followed Mrs. Bryce through the doorway, surveying their tiny back room. ¡°I hope you¡¯re well?¡±


    ¡°I got a good sale the beginning of the month. A pretty young thing, about your age with black hair. She must have had money: she bought all my gray cloth! Said it was for art. To think of it! Spending a whole quarter on art!¡±


    To my left, a boy sat on a bed, curled into a ball, rocking.


    David Bryce looked so much like Air that it hurt to see him. Pale skin, dark hair, dark eyes. But David¡¯s eyes were lost, empty, as if he had seen things no child should ever see. Arms around his crossed legs, hands pressed upon his thin arms, he stared into nothing, and rocked.


    I sat beside him and lifted my veil. ¡°Do you remember me? I brought you home.¡±


    His eyes never moved as he continued to rock.


    I turned to her. ¡°Has there been any change? Has he spoken?


    Mrs. Bryce drew up the room¡¯s lone stool and sat. There used to be three stools; where had the other two gone? A bed was missing, too. ¡°He stopped sucking his thumb. He¡¯ll walk to the toilet, and he''ll drink broth. I suppose it¡¯s an improvement.¡±


    ¡°I must know if he speaks. If he identifies who took him ¡ª¡±


    Mrs. Bryce sounded numb. ¡°Then what? What if that Diamond man did this to him? I¡¯m a widow, and an outsider at that. Where would I get money for clothes to stand in court, a lawyer or a carriage to get there? And doesn¡¯t his Family own the Prison, the courts? I might end up in a cell, or even dead.¡±


    I hadn¡¯t considered any of this. The Diamond Family held the Prison. Jack Diamond was Keeper of the Prison. Which seemed odd: the man was reportedly both violent and insane. Prison must be a terrible place. ¡°I have some money. Perhaps I could help.¡±


    Mrs. Bryce shook her head. ¡°You¡¯ve done too much already.¡±


    It didn¡¯t feel that way.


    Her voice sounded hollow. ¡°I never liked you as a child ¡ª you were too outspoken, too fierce. But Nicholas adored you ¡ª¡±


    Grief tore through my chest. Air¡¯s real name was Nicholas, and he was Eleanora¡¯s eldest son, before I got him killed.


    ¡°¡ª and I blamed you for his death, even though you were just a child yourself. I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    Air told me not to go. He begged me to go home. He only went because I did, to protect me. And I should never have been there. I should¡¯ve stayed in bed as Ma asked. She told me not to have anything to do with Peedro Sluff. But I wouldn¡¯t listen. ¡°You¡¯re right to blame me.¡±


    ¡°No, mum, I wasn¡¯t.¡± She placed her hand on mine. ¡°You didn¡¯t pull the trigger. You were just a little girl. My boy was out at night getting killed and I didn¡¯t even know. I was working ¡ª¡±The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    She was doing what women did in the Pot: selling her body.


    ¡°¡ª and I shouldn¡¯t have been. Their father was coming for us ¡ª he even sent money so I could get Nicky¡¯s medicine ¡ª¡±


    Shock lanced through me. I went to the corner of Shill and Snow that night because Peedro Sluff told me he¡¯d give me a dollar. I wanted the dollar to get Air his medicine, because he was coughing up blood and the doctor wanted money.


    Was everything that happened that night for nothing?


    Mrs. Bryce stared at her hands. ¡°But I didn¡¯t believe he would bring us out. He¡¯d promised to for so long that I gave up hope. Why would some rich outsider spend all his money on me?¡± She hung her head. ¡°If anyone other than that wretched Peedro Sluff was to blame, it would be me.¡±


    I wondered what she¡¯d say if she knew Peedro was my father.


    ¡°You did what we all wanted,¡± Mrs. Bryce said. ¡°The whole city dreams of getting into a Family. You got to the very top. Don¡¯t throw it away on account of us. We¡¯ll survive.¡± She leaned over to peer in my eyes. ¡°You brought him home. That¡¯s all you said you¡¯d do. You don¡¯t have to do any more.¡±


    You¡¯re wrong. I have to. ¡°They did it on my account, Ell.¡±


    Mrs. Bryce sat straighter, eyes widening in alarm.


    ¡°The scoundrel in brown said so.¡± I gripped David¡¯s mattress with both hands, tighter and tighter. ¡°He killed Herbert. He ruined David. He¡¯s tried to destroy your family for no other reason but to lure me.¡± Pain lanced through my left ring finger as the nail gave way. ¡°I¡¯m not stopping until I kill him.¡±


    The clock tower struck six. I had to leave. I pressed my nail to staunch the spreading wetness, grateful Madame¡¯s gloves were black. ¡°What do you need? Can I bring something next time?¡±


    Mrs Bryce shrugged.


    I pulled out a dollar, but she held up her hand in front of her as if to push it away. ¡°No, mum ¡ª no. That¡¯s too much. If I showed up with a whole dollar people¡¯d think I was running Party Time for sure.¡± Her eyes followed it. ¡°Do you have anything smaller?¡±


    I opened my coin purse, giving her all but one of my pennies (I needed that for the taxi), and all my nickels and dimes. It was less than a dollar, but perhaps it would help.


    She burst into tears.


    ¡°Thank you so much,¡± she sobbed. ¡°I only made the one fabric sale this whole month. I even had to sell the frame around Herbert¡¯s portrait for food and rent. I didn¡¯t know how I was going to pay Family fees. This is enough for some new fabric.¡±


    Our Family was such a burden to these people. Did Tony even know?


    David still rocked.


    I rested my hand on his shoulder. ¡°It looks bad now, David, but it¡¯ll get better. When you want to tell me who did this so I can go kill him, you just tell your Ma. Okay?¡±


    David hesitated, just an instant.


    The look in his eyes ...


    What had his kidnappers done to him?


    But then he began rocking again.


    Mrs. Bryce rose. ¡°Stay here. I¡¯ll make sure the taxi¡¯s ready. You mustn¡¯t linger outside.¡±


    ¡°Why not? What¡¯s going on?¡±


    ¡°People are saying the Families have to go. That even the gangs are better than paying Family fees every month. That they ruined the merchants and blew up the zeppelin.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    She nodded. ¡°So you don¡¯t want to be seen round here.¡±


    In more ways than one. She and David might be in danger.


    Mrs. Bryce patted my arm. ¡°We¡¯ll be fine. You did enough.¡±


    On the way to Madame¡¯s, I considered Eleanora¡¯s words.


    Something was very wrong.


    Why should anyone blame the Families for the disaster?


    But Family fees were resented enough that any reason might make the poor wish to be rid of them. That Thrace Pike dared to produce his editorial in January was all the evidence needed.


    Few people paid mind to the true Red Dog gang when they threw rocks at storefronts ¡°to get rid of the Families.¡± And I had considered Thrace Pike¡¯s editorial and pamphlet dealt with, especially after he was outed as a Bridger. But now people on the street called for the Families to go?


    The situation was much worse than I thought.


    But today, at least, had gone well. I helped Mrs. Bryce, and David seemed improved (if ever so slightly). I could probably get another three excursions to Madame¡¯s shop from this Summer dress, then it would be time for my Fall fittings.


    Now that I wasn¡¯t being watched so closely, I should finally be able to make a proper investigation into Marja¡¯s death.


    * * *


    A line of carriages sat outside Madame¡¯s shop. So I got out ten yards up, in the entrance to the alley. Shadow covered the sidewalks and buildings. People bustled about.


    A boy of eleven stood on the tree-lined sidewalk in front of a portrait studio, peering towards Madame¡¯s shop. He looked familiar. ¡°Aren¡¯t you the Memory Boy¡¯s brother?¡±


    He nodded.


    I gestured towards Madame¡¯s place. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°A lot of men went in. I¡¯m not sure which shop.¡± He stood on tiptoe for a moment. ¡°Can¡¯t see from here.¡±


    Men? That ruled out Madame¡¯s place: what reason would men have to go in a dress shop? A watchmaker¡¯s shop lay just past hers; the men probably went there. ¡°It was good to see you.¡±


    I went up the alley, then turned left to stroll behind the shops. Even the alleyways were busy: shopkeepers and maids, trash-takers and children. But no one paid me mind as I went to Madame¡¯s back door and let myself in.


    The hall was silent.


    Normally, Tenni rushed to greet me, eager to put on her own clothes. At the time, I thought she didn¡¯t hear me come inside.


    I raised my veil, went to my private dressing room¡¯s back curtain, and opened it.


    Madame and Tenni sat on wooden chairs facing each other. Madame looked angry; Tenni¡¯s brown eyes were wide with terror.


    Two men leaned against the walls.


    ¡°Hello, Jacqui,¡± said Tony.

 Chapter 3: The Ace of Clubs - Round 9: The Interrogation

    Sawbuck stood behind me; I ran right into him. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, mum,¡± he said. ¡°But I did warn you what might happen.¡±


    I turned towards Tony and his cousin Blitz. The two didn¡¯t appear alike except for their smiles, but neither were smiling now.


    ¡°Mrs. Spadros, I came to see you,¡± Tony said, ¡°but instead, I find this girl wearing your dress. Who¡¯s this girl? Why¡¯s she wearing your dress?¡±


    Madame said, ¡°I told you, Monsieur Spadros. This is Tenni; she¡¯s under my protection. An orphan. I made this dress for her.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t lie to me, Madame. Don¡¯t you think I know my own wife¡¯s clothing?¡± Tony grabbed Tenni¡¯s arm, jerking her to her feet. ¡°This ripped at the waist when my wife and I lay together before her maid undressed her ¡ª a maid who raised me.¡± He let go of Tenni, who slumped into her seat. ¡°Don¡¯t you think I know the stitching of a woman who sewed with me at her side when I was a boy?¡± He pointed towards the floor. ¡°I spilled red wine on the hem after dinner. This stain and the one on the carpet in my library never came out. This is my wife¡¯s dress, and a stranger wears it.¡±


    He took a few steps along the curtained entryway. ¡°But that¡¯s not the worst of it. My wife, Madame, wears your dress. I remember it from the memorial. Why¡¯s she wearing your dress? Where¡¯s she gone? I depended on you to be her protector.¡±


    He turned to me. ¡°And why do you evade your men? You did the same at the Diamond Women¡¯s Club the day of the explosion. Where do you go?¡±


    I stared at him in terror.


    ¡°We¡¯re going home,¡± Tony said. ¡°Madame, lock your store. Perhaps you¡¯ll be more forthcoming at Spadros Manor.¡±


    Blitz snorted, uncrossing his arms with a slight shake of his head. I recalled his words the night Marja died: My loyalty is to the Spadros Family. Who is your loyalty to, Mrs. Spadros?


    Sawbuck took my arm, but his grasp was gentle as he led me past a group of Tony¡¯s men loitering in Madame¡¯s shop room.


    Honor stood stiffly by the carriage, not meeting my glance.


    He believes I¡¯ve betrayed the Family.


    Fuck him, I thought. If he and that driver had taken me to the bank instead of locking me in my carriage, I could have sold Anastasia¡¯s necklace before gem prices fell. I¡¯d have all the money I needed.


    Tony climbed into the carriage next to me.


    I said, ¡°Where¡¯s Madame? Where¡¯s Tenni?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ll be well,¡± Tony said.


    He probably put us in separate carriages so we couldn¡¯t confer as to our stories.


    The prospect of returning terrified me. I didn¡¯t think Tony would harm me, but what might he do to them? And how long would they be able to withstand before they told the truth?Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    I couldn¡¯t see Roy or Tony taking kindly to my work. If I confessed to my business and wasn¡¯t beaten, or killed outright as any other Spadros would be who stepped out of line, I¡¯d be watched every step I took.


    I remembered Madame¡¯s little jest then, and my hands began to shake. Even if Roy didn¡¯t kill me, Tony could presume that if I left home on false pretenses, changed clothes, and hired accomplices, it was proof of infidelity, easy grounds for divorce.


    I wouldn¡¯t be safe anywhere in Bridges.


    * * *


    I sat in my parlor, gloved hands in my lap, as Tony paced the room. Sawbuck stood in front of the fireplace, arms folded.


    My gloves were soaked in sweat.


    ¡°Why did you go to the zeppelin station? Honor told you we had specific instruction not to go into Clubb quadrant that day.¡±


    Tony tricked too much information from me, only to ignore it. ¡°I told you, I had evidence of a bomb. I tried to warn them ¡ª¡±


    ¡°By giving your name? Mrs. Jacqueline Spadros, illegally in Clubb quadrant, with knowledge of a bomb? Which you told no one about ¡ª¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t learn about it until I was on Market Center ¡ª¡±


    ¡°And why on earth were you there? Why evade your men?¡±


    Why wouldn¡¯t he listen? ¡°I was helping Gardena!¡± I shook my head. ¡°They aren¡¯t my men in any case.¡± I had more than sufficient evidence of this already. ¡°They¡¯re your men, they¡¯re your father¡¯s men. Would they have escorted us to meet her blackmailer?¡±


    Tony hesitated, a quick procession of anger, fear, and resolution crossing his face. ¡°Why would anyone blackmail Gardena Diamond? Why won¡¯t you tell me what¡¯s going on?¡±


    ¡°Tony, I can¡¯t tell you that! She risked everything to trust me with this. If I betrayed her now ... it would be wrong.¡±


    Gardena had killed her grandfather ¡ª as he asked ¡ª when his life became pure misery after his terrible accident. And someone threatened to go to her father with the truth.


    The fact that she came to me, of all people ...


    I faced him. ¡°I will not tell you, nor will I tell your father ¡ª¡±


    Tony flinched, turning pale. The torture room of Roy Spadros was no secret in Bridges.


    ¡°¡ª if that¡¯s your wish. So you must decide. Gardena¡¯s secret has nothing to do with you, nor with this Family. I¡¯m astonished you would pry into a woman¡¯s private affairs this way.¡±


    Tony began pacing. ¡°Did you know Pearson keeps record of what goes on in this household?¡±


    This didn¡¯t surprise me. But it raised a number of questions.


    ¡°For example, in January you told him more than once you were out calling, or going to tea. Yet later he found your driver and footman engaged in tasks around the house.¡±


    I gaped at him in horror.


    ¡°Where did you go? Who did you see? Was Gardena being blackmailed again?¡±


    I said nothing.


    ¡°Regina Clubb brought formal charges to The Commission, claiming she saw you illegally at Clubb Women¡¯s Center ¡ª and accuses us of spying. Us!¡± He let out a bitter laugh. ¡°That¡¯s rich.¡±


    I smiled in spite of myself.


    ¡°But on that day, Pearson has a notation that you were visiting Helen Hart. Must I speak to each of these people to verify your locations? Now I doubt your word on several matters.¡±


    I never met with Helen Hart that day. I went to Market Center ¡ª by way of Clubb quadrant ¡ª to investigate David Bryce¡¯s disappearance. Tony¡¯s little sister Katherine went with me to see the stable-master, who was now dead. Had my actions put her in danger as well?


    ¡°And then there¡¯s Madame Biltcliffe.¡±


    This change of subject made no sense. ¡°What of her?¡±


    His face softened into amusement. ¡°The accountant you insisted upon discovered Madame Biltcliffe charges the Spadros Family significantly more than others using the same services. Is she cheating me? Or is she providing some additional service?¡±


    Oh gods, I thought. Is he going to kill her?


    ¡°Was her story about the break-in at her shop true? Or is she allied with our enemies? You¡¯re the judge of this. Is it too personal a woman¡¯s affair? Or maybe she was being blackmailed as well. Perhaps I should send her and the orphan to my father to learn the truth.¡±


    I stared at my hands. ¡°There¡¯s no need to involve your father.¡±


    Tony stopped, leaning towards me. ¡°What?¡±


    All I had worked so hard to keep secret was being revealed. But I couldn¡¯t allow Madame Biltcliffe and Tenni to be hurt on my account. ¡°There¡¯s no need to involve your father.¡±


    I took a deep breath. ¡°From the age of sixteen, I have employed myself as a private investigator.¡±

 Chapter 3: The Ace of Clubs - Round 10: The Information

    Tony leaned on the back of a chair, eyes wide, mouth open. Then he sat across the low coffee table from me. ¡°But why? Is there something I¡¯m not providing you?¡±


    I considered my bird in its lovely cage. ¡°What if Frank Pagliacci¡¯s men shot you during the ambush at your warehouse? By law, all this,¡± I gestured around me, ¡°would revert to your father. He makes no pretense: this is for the protection and benefit of you, and you alone. He has no use or regard for me, other than to provide you with an heir.¡±


    Which, if I had any say in it, would never happen. I took a special tea every morning to ensure this. I would never bear a child to be used as a pawn in some Family scheme.


    I turned to Sawbuck, who sat beside me. ¡°Would you protect me from Jack Diamond? Or Frank Pagliacci? Or ¡®my men¡¯?¡±


    Sawbuck didn¡¯t move.


    ¡°I thought as much.¡± I faced Tony. ¡°And even if I were to return to the Spadros Pot I wouldn¡¯t be safe. I need means to hire bodyguards until I can purchase a zeppelin ticket.¡±


    Tony leaned forward, head bowed, his elbows on his knees. He sat motionless for several seconds. Then he raised his head. ¡°I shall create a will ¡ª¡±


    I stared at him in shock.


    ¡°Sir,¡± Sawbuck said, ¡°this is most unwise ¡ª¡±


    ¡°Shut up, Ten. This is my house, not yours. My money, to do with as I wish. Do you understand?¡±


    Sawbuck¡¯s face reddened and his jaw tightened, but after staring at Tony for several seconds, he glanced away.


    ¡°I shall direct my lawyers to create a will which gives you everything on my death. Then you can keep our home and select guards of your choosing. My life means nothing if you aren¡¯t cared for, whether or not you¡¯re able to give me a child.¡± Tony shook his head. ¡°I should¡¯ve considered this, especially after Master Diamond¡¯s outburst at the Ball.¡± He leaned back. ¡°This explains your nightmares. Why did you never tell me?¡±


    I smiled. He had never revealed his nightmares either. ¡°It¡¯s of no consequence.¡± Why was he creating this will? Surely he didn¡¯t trust me. Was this a test?


    Tony sat up. ¡°Ten, ring for some tea. When the maid leaves, stand guard. I want no one overhearing.¡±


    Sawbuck rose, not looking at either of us, then stood by the door. I considered the stair at the other end of the parlor and who might be listening already, but it was much too late for that.


    Tony said, ¡°Tell me everything. From the beginning.¡±


    The door opened. Sawbuck took the tray from the maid, set it between us, then left, closing the door with a sharp click.


    I patted the sofa. ¡°Sit by me.¡±


    In whispers, I related my desire to be of use, to find freedom from my stifling life under Roy¡¯s thumb. I told him I had allies, and disguises, and contacts in various places. I never mentioned names; Tony never asked.


    ¡°So you see, Madame Biltcliffe and Tenni helped me. For their assistance, I pay her.¡±


    ¡°You mean, I pay her.¡±


    I felt abashed. ¡°Well, yes. But I meant no harm. She put herself and ...¡± I almost said ¡°her maid¡± but I didn¡¯t wish to contradict Madame, ¡°Tenni in danger to help me.¡±


    ¡°The girl does look like you from afar. I see how the men were fooled.¡± Tony squeezed my hand. ¡°Go on.¡±


    ¡°I never did anything more dangerous than following men suspected of infidelity ¡ª¡± the image of Vig beating the man who tried to violate me when I was sixteen flashed through my mind, but it wouldn¡¯t do to tell Tony about that, ¡°until New Years¡¯ Eve.¡±


    I described my meeting with Eleanora Bryce, whose twelve-year-old son David had to be the child Tony¡¯s kidnapped men spoke of. I told him about the Red Dog card Amelia found in my pocket after the Grand Ball, and my horror at seeing one on our front stair, which I felt sure was put there by Jack Diamond.


    Tony stared at me. ¡°Several shopkeepers have complained of being harassed by a man fitting his description.¡±


    I told Tony about Stephen and Clover of the true Red Dogs, and how appalled they were at the kidnapping. Both Stephen and Herbert Bryce, David¡¯s older brother, were later found strangled.


    ¡°I¡¯ve heard rumor of a strangler loose in the city,¡± Tony said, ¡°but I had no idea those boys were connected to our troubles.¡±


    I then had a dilemma: what to tell him about Morton? I mentioned a man who claimed to be a Red Dog trey leader, but only as Morton, leaving out his true name.


    But Tony said, ¡°And then Master Rainbow appeared, who you knew as Morton.¡±


    I recoiled, horrified. ¡°How did you know?¡±


    Tony chuckled. ¡°Pearson mentioned your cry of surprise at seeing Master Rainbow, calling him Morton, and I wondered where you might have met before.¡±


    Fear gripped me. What would happen to him?


    Tony patted my hand. ¡°I mean Master Rainbow no harm. He saved your life at the zeppelin station, did he not?¡±


    I nodded, heart pounding.


    ¡°Go on,¡± Tony said. ¡°I want to know everything. No one will harm you or your friends.¡±


    So I told Tony I tracked David to Jack Diamond¡¯s factory. Morton took me to the factory on his yacht to rescue David Bryce, yet afterwards David did nothing but rock and suck his thumb.


    ¡°I shot Frank Pagliacci that day. But I learned from Dame Anastasia later that he was still alive.¡±


    ¡°You shot him?¡± Tony stared at me, mouth open. ¡°And Dame Anastasia knew him?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°He was her lover, and part of her plot to defraud the city. He and Jack Diamond killed her, Tony. The zeppelin explosion was their means of assassination. Jack and Frank mean us personal harm, but I can¡¯t prove it. In Jack¡¯s factory, Frank said he planned to destroy the Spadros Family, one by one.¡±


    Tony paused, hand to his chin. ¡°This explains many things: Master Rainbow¡¯s injuries, for example. Again, taken defending you and your friend¡¯s young boy.¡± He smiled. ¡°I can¡¯t help but feel indebted to him, even if he did deceive me. If you ever do need guards, he would be one to enlist.¡±Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    He took my hand. ¡°You are the bravest woman I¡¯ve ever met. To enter Diamond quadrant, rescue this boy ... and actually shooting a man. Who taught you ¡ª?¡±


    I shot many more than one that day. But what should I say? Roy threatened to kill my Ma if I revealed to Tony that he had been training me. Did Roy know Ma was still alive? ¡°One of the men dropped his gun when Master Rainbow shot him.¡± I shrugged, looking away. ¡°It seemed easy enough.¡±


    Tony snorted. ¡°I wish I had any talent for it.¡± He shifted in his chair. ¡°What I¡¯m trying to say is ... I feel tremendous pride in you, risking yourself to save this child as you did.¡± He turned to me, placing his hand atop mine. ¡°But this business must stop. You¡¯ve done a great service, and gained valuable information, but you¡¯re much too precious to be placed in peril.¡±


    ¡°But, Tony ¡ª¡±


    ¡°Frank Pagliacci plans to destroy us one by one. He¡¯s lured you from your home once already. One day he¡¯ll capture you, or worse yet, Jack Diamond will, and I can¡¯t even think of that.¡± He ducked his head, trying to capture my gaze. ¡°Will you promise me you¡¯ll stop this nonsense? Please?¡±


    Did I have a choice? I couldn¡¯t look at him. ¡°Yes, sir.¡±


    ¡°Ah, now, none of that. Look at me. I don¡¯t mean to order you. I¡¯m not my father. I ¡ª I want you to be safe. That¡¯s all.¡±


    I nodded. My bird was very safe. Yet it would never fly.


    * * *


    The doorbell rang. After a few moments, Sawbuck opened the door. ¡°The Memory Boy Werner Lead, sir.¡±


    Memory Boys remembered exactly what was said, and delivered messages so secret they mustn¡¯t be written.


    Tony leapt from the sofa. ¡°Splendid! I¡¯ll be there at once.¡± He said to me, ¡°I¡¯ll be right back.¡±


    Sawbuck closed the door, remaining inside.


    I hurried to Sawbuck. ¡°I didn¡¯t mention anything from the night you found Marja. I¡¯d appreciate your silence a while longer.¡±


    He regarded me warily. ¡°You play a dangerous game, Mrs. Spadros. Trust, once lost, is often gone forever, and hatred soon follows.¡± He glanced aside, then spoke earnestly. ¡°I don¡¯t want him hurt. You understand?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the farthest thing from my mind. But I must learn who killed her.¡± I grabbed his arm. ¡°I must. She was a mother to me. I can¡¯t stand aside when I believe this all is connected. But I can¡¯t do that with Mr. Spadros hovering.¡±


    Sawbuck¡¯s face softened. ¡°Pot rags must stick together, eh?¡±


    I had forgotten: he was Molly¡¯s sister¡¯s son, undoubtedly born in the Pot, just as she and I were. ¡°Yes.¡± Yet I felt disturbed somehow. ¡°One day we must sit, Master Hogan, and have a chat.¡±


    He bowed and turned to go; I returned to my seat.


    Just in time: Tony stormed into the room. ¡°The unmitigated gall! The effrontery! How dare the man address me in that manner! And to a Memory Boy!¡± Tony threw his hands in the air and stalked to the fireplace.


    This sudden anger surprised me. ¡°Whatever has happened?¡±


    Tony paced, gesturing as he spoke. ¡°Cesare Diamond, that¡¯s what¡¯s happened. The scoundrel! I ask a simple question, and he proceeds to cast insult. He even insulted you! I should call him out ... yes, I shall challenge him!¡±


    ¡°That would be unwise, sir.¡± Sawbuck¡¯s voice startled me. ¡°Mr. Cesare is quite skilled with weapons, or so I¡¯m told.¡±


    Where Tony was not.


    I began to laugh, remembering my encounter with Cesare Diamond on the rooftop at Market Center as we lay in wait for Gardena¡¯s blackmailer. ¡°The man is dreadfully rude. Yet he always spoke truth. What did he say?¡±


    Tony turned crimson, his manner instantly cooling. ¡°That¡¯s not important. But ¡ª¡± he took a few steps, then faced me, ¡°it confirms you were with him on Market Center. I suppose I should be grateful for that.¡±


    Tony actually considered calling out Cesare Diamond. After telling me at the Queen¡¯s Day dinner that we were only at cease-fire with the Diamonds and ¡°nowhere near¡± ready for war.


    To challenge the Diamond heir in the midst of a cease-fire?


    Tony was out of control.


    Pearson came in. ¡°Dinner, sir.¡± He surveyed us. Normally, we dressed for dinner at seven; we certainly were not dressed for it now. ¡°Should I tell Monsieur dinner will be delayed?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Tony said. ¡°We¡¯ll have dinner now.¡± He grabbed my upper arm. ¡°None of our guests have had time to prepare either.¡±


    The way he said it made me suddenly afraid.


    * * *


    Tony hauled me to our dining room. Tenni and Madame sat glumly across from each other halfway down the long table.


    ¡°Please sit,¡± Tony said.


    So I sat at the foot of the table, rubbing my arm. Tony took his seat at the head of the table. Sawbuck sat beside Tony, to his right. Morton sat across from Sawbuck, at Tony¡¯s left.


    A guest sat mid-table. Had Morton risen in Tony¡¯s favor?


    Sawbuck took Morton¡¯s placement as a matter of course. The servants set the soup dishes and retreated.


    Madame shook her head slightly when Tenni caught her eye, then nodded once Tony began to eat.


    Tenni shoveled soup into her mouth as if famished.


    I sipped a spoonful. ¡°Tenni, will your family worry for you?¡±


    Tenni shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m usually home by now. My sister should be there with the little ones.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll have my butler send your sister a message,¡± Tony said.


    Tenni started, giving him a frightened glance. ¡°Thank you, sir.¡± She finished her soup, used her bread to wipe the bowl clean as she ate it, then said, ¡°That was very good.¡± She smiled, relaxing, as if she believed dinner to be over. ¡°It¡¯s so quiet here.¡±


    Several minutes passed as the rest of us ate in silence.


    The servants cleared the soup dishes and placed our main course. Tenni¡¯s eyes widened as she stared at her plate. Then she ate as quickly as before, slipping her roll and meat into her pocket.


    When I first came here, I did the same, in case they took it away. And I always hid food to bring home to Ma.


    Morton said, ¡°Is it noisy where you live, then?¡±


    She nodded. ¡°The factories run all night, men coming and going, whistles and bells.¡± She gulped her milk.


    I asked Tenni, ¡°What happened to your parents?¡±


    ¡°I never knew my father well, mum; haven¡¯t seen him since my little sister was born. My mother got shot at the grocery a few years ago. It was in the paper.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    Tenni shrugged. ¡°We never saw her home much, mum. I just started work for Madame. She took me on full time.¡±


    Tony froze, staring at Tenni with his emotionless mask on.


    Morton said, ¡°How many are at your house?¡±


    ¡°Me and my five sisters, sir. I¡¯m the oldest. The youngest is seven; we make enough to keep her at home.¡± Tenni spoke with pride. ¡°We get off at different times and check on her. She braids twine for the newspaper ¡ª five cents every 100 yard roll. Madame showed me how to make gloves for her so the twine doesn¡¯t cut her fingers. And I¡¯m teaching her to read. Madame taught me.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a good sister,¡± Morton said.


    Tenni blushed. ¡°Thank you, sir.¡±


    Tony said, ¡°Mrs. Spadros, may we speak privately?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± We went to his study. ¡°How may I help?¡±


    Tony shook his head. ¡°I had no idea this girl was a servant.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re upset because you had dinner with a servant?¡±


    ¡°I had a servant at table with a gentleman! What must he think of us? What must the servants think?¡±


    ¡°That you¡¯re kind to children? What else would they think?¡±


    ¡°Favoritism amongst servants only causes trouble,¡± Tony said. ¡°I¡¯ll explain it to the staff tomorrow. But the maid must go.¡±


    Instantly, Tenni had lost all humanity. ¡°Yes, sir.¡±


    ¡°Take the dress off her and have it burned.¡±


    ¡°Burned? But it¡¯s your favorite dress! It¡¯s my favorite dress!¡±


    ¡°A ...¡± he seemed disgusted, ¡°... servant has worn it, Jacqui, and a shop maid at that. Why would you want to wear it again?¡±


    ¡°May I give it to her? The girl has so little.¡±


    ¡°No. Jane will find something suitable for her to wear home.¡±


    ¡°You think this poorly of a servant? What of me?¡±


    ¡°What do I think of you? You¡¯re my wife.¡± Tony grabbed my arm. ¡°If I see your clothing on her again, I¡¯ll have her whipped.¡±


    Stunned and angry, I returned to the table. Tenni had cleared her plate and was on her second glass of milk. Morton put down his napkin. ¡°Is Mr. Spadros well?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Tenni, let¡¯s get you changed. You can go home now.¡±


    While changing, Tenni said, ¡°You and Master Rainbow aren¡¯t like the others.¡±


    I smiled to myself. ¡°I suppose not.¡±


    When Tenni and I returned to the dining hall, Madame stood waiting. ¡°Thank you for your hospitality,¡± Madame said to Tony. ¡°Today¡¯s been most informative.¡± She took Tenni¡¯s hand and left.


    I sat. Sawbuck and Morton seemed disturbed. ¡°What is it?¡±


    Tony looked up. ¡°What is what?¡±


    ¡°Something¡¯s happened.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Tony said. ¡°Something has. I gave Madame Biltcliffe a choice. You¡¯ll be retaining a new dressmaker from now on.¡±


    I stared at him, outraged. ¡°Did you threaten her?¡±


    ¡°I gave her two options. She chose to withdraw her services.¡±


    What was the other choice? ¡°So you¡¯ve chosen this woman?¡±


    He shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m sure my mother knows someone suitable.¡±


    ¡°But Madame¡¯s in the midst of work on my Summer dress! You can¡¯t cancel an order she¡¯s already begun!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll allow you to visit, Jacqui, but only to finish the dress. You¡¯re not to go anywhere else. Do you understand? You¡¯re not to venture out without escort.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve done nothing wrong, yet I¡¯m imprisoned!¡±


    Tony laughed. ¡°Nonsense. You¡¯re free to go anywhere in the city you like, so long as you stay with your guards.¡±


    I drained my glass of wine. ¡°Please excuse me.¡±


    Morton glanced at me, but I ignored him. If Tony realized he ¡ª or Sawbuck ¡ª hid my adventures, they too could be in danger.

 Chapter 3: The Ace of Clubs - Round 11: The Secrets

    I carried my blue dress to my room. Amelia cleaned and bound my broken nail, got me changed from Madame¡¯s mourning garb into my nightgown, and said goodnight. Then I went into the left side of my closets, to the back.


    The paneled wall appeared as any other, but if I pressed on one panel just right, it moved inward far enough for me to slide it up. They¡¯d found all my hiding places except this one.


    In the space behind lay an envelope with the money I¡¯d made over the years as an investigator and Dame Anastasia¡¯s book on stage makeup. I wrapped these inside my blue dress. If I found a way to escape, a bundle would be quicker to retrieve.


    I slid the panel back down, returned to my bedroom, poured a glass of bourbon, drank it, then poured another. I loved the taste, the burning in my chest, the way I felt afterward.


    I would never stop working. I couldn¡¯t go out anymore, but Tony didn¡¯t know my network of informants. And as far as I knew, my mail wasn¡¯t being opened.


    I could still learn who murdered Marja.


    I rang for Amelia. Twenty minutes later, she appeared in her robe and nightgown, hair in disarray. ¡°Yes, mum?¡±


    ¡°I wish to write some post.¡±


    ¡°At this hour?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll post it tomorrow. Please bring paper, pen, and ink now.¡±


    As Amelia went rummaging around the room for writing supplies (and, I imagined, my study when finally she left) I paged through the copies of the Golden Bridges I¡¯d set aside.


    There was little news other than what Tony and Mrs. Bryce had told me, yet much speculation as to the explosion.


    I knew who bombed the zeppelin. What I needed to learn was who killed Marja.


    Why did I care so much? While I loved my Ma, she was busy owning her brothel; Marja cared for us most of the time. In a way, Marja was more of a mother than Ma ever was.


    When Amelia returned, I wrote to my contacts about the facility Marja sent the letter from. Who else worked there? I asked about Marja and who might want her killed. I asked about Josie¡¯s uncle, who it seemed she barely knew. Did he have reason to want Marja dead? And I asked about this woman Birdie.


    I stacked the letters on my tea-table, then sat in bed with another glass of bourbon. My options seemed more limited every day; each action had to count.


    Tony arrived, smiling when he saw me. ¡°I hope you¡¯re well?¡±


    ¡°Indeed.¡± I felt luminous. ¡°What intrigues did you concoct?¡±


    He laughed. ¡°Not much, alas.¡± Then he sobered. ¡°I wanted to apologize. You should be able to choose your own dressmaker.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll ask Madame and your mother for recommendations. Perhaps there¡¯ll be someone on both lists who¡¯ll suffice.¡±


    Tony smiled. ¡°Always considering the options.¡±


    How might I help Mrs. Bryce? I sipped my bourbon, considering the matter.


    I heard Tony¡¯s door open, and his manservant Jacob Michaels¡¯ voice. Soon Tony returned in his pajamas and slid into bed next to me. ¡°What happened to your hand?¡±


    I shrugged. It still throbbed. ¡°A broken nail, nothing more.¡±


    He gently kissed it, then my wedding ring, then the back of my hand.


    ¡°I want to help Mrs. Bryce. One of her sons has been murdered and another ruined on our account.¡±


    ¡°This Mrs. Bryce ... she¡¯s a merchant then?¡±


    ¡°She owns Bryce Fabrics on 2nd Street, Spadros quadrant.¡±


    ¡°And you believe Master Jack Diamond is part of the group who took him?¡±


    ¡°Mrs. Bryce says a dark-skinned man with shaven head wearing white came to her door a week before the kidnapping. We saw him and a man who I believe to be Frank Pagliacci put the boy into a carriage.¡± I was too far away to identify either of them. I¡¯d only seen Jack a few times, but ... ¡°She could tell this was the same man by the way he moved.¡±


    I compared this man to the man at the Grand Ball. Was this the impostor I saw in Jack¡¯s factory? Or was it Jack himself?


    ¡°Tell me what happened that night.¡±


    Tony¡¯s words startled me. ¡°What night?¡±


    ¡°The night which has you wake screaming since we¡¯ve wed. I know Master Diamond¡¯s manservant was murdered, but I must know everything if we¡¯re to appear before The Commission.¡±


    I felt astonished. ¡°You mean to approach the Patriarchs?¡±


    Tony seemed surprised. ¡°Regina Clubb plans formal protest; I can make one in return. I have now six merchants who describe everything from blackmail to this kidnapping ¡ª in Spadros quadrant ¡ª by a man fitting Jack Diamond¡¯s description. And today you tell me he threatened you here at my home.¡± He shook his head. ¡°This is completely unacceptable. But I must know why he targets you, if I¡¯m to help.¡± He glanced away. ¡°This is much larger than you think, Jacqui. Please. Dr. Salmon believes speaking of it might help with the nightmares, too.¡±


    It might help with the nightmares? ¡°Very well.¡±


    I sat up in bed and told him about the meeting between Roy Spadros and Peedro Sluff that cold winter night just after I turned twelve. Jack¡¯s manservant Daniel rushed towards us, shouting what seemed a warning, yet Peedro shot him, claiming Daniel intended to kill Roy.


    ¡°This is incredible,¡± Tony said. ¡°I heard the shots but ...¡±


    ¡°You were much too far away to have seen what happened.¡± I was sure Roy planned it that way.


    ¡°Such perfidy! Your father hired to kill mine, yet turns on his master to buy favor with a Family? I¡¯ve heard of such things, but never thought men could be so dishonorable.¡±


    I snorted. ¡°You obviously aren¡¯t acquainted with my father.¡±


    ¡°What happened then?¡±


    ¡°Jack rode up on one of his father¡¯s white horses. He wore white even then, and knelt in the mud, weeping for his friend.¡± The anguish in his face haunted me. ¡°Then Jack screamed vengeance on us all ¡ª¡± I faltered, picturing Jack¡¯s rage and hate.


    Tony took my hand. ¡°I¡¯m sorry you had to see that.¡±


    It was my fault. I should never have been there.


    Peedro¡¯s grip on my arm. Air desperately trying to save me from being sold. Air¡¯s body crumpling after Peedro shot him too. The blood.


    ¡°Oh, Jacqui.¡± Tony gathered me into his arms. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to cause you grief.¡±


    If I told Tony that my father sold me to the Spadros Family then killed my best friend when he tried to stop it ... this would put everything into question, including our marriage.


    And Roy would kill me.


    I shook my head. Air was dead, and I was sold. None of it should ever have happened. No matter what Eleanora Bryce said, I cast the cards that night.


    It was all because of me.


    Tony gestured to the portrait of Acevedo Spadros II on the wall. ¡°Ever since you asked about my grandfather, I¡¯ve considered what he might do. I want to be like him, Jacqui, not like my father.¡± He kissed my hand. ¡°I¡¯ll let you help your merchant friend. This is clearly part of Jack Diamond¡¯s need for vengeance, and it can¡¯t be allowed to stand.¡±


    * * *


    That night, I pondered how to help Mrs. Bryce. Money was out of the question: too much, and they would become targets. Perhaps recommend her shop to others? Bring food? I tried to imagine what living in such poverty was like. In the Pot, if we had, we shared. The slums didn¡¯t seem to abide by such rules.


    At breakfast, Tony produced a letter. ¡°We¡¯re requested to attend the inquest as witnesses on the fourth of May.¡±


    This seemed alarming. ¡°Both of us?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Tony said. ¡°I appear at eleven, you at half past. But we¡¯ll likely need to attend other days.¡± He paused, looking aside. ¡°The attorneys say it¡¯s best to attend when the other Families do, so as not to give the appearance of controversy.¡±


    ¡°This is most disturbing,¡± I said.


    Morton, who sat across the round table from us, appeared quite disturbed, yet said nothing.


    ¡°My father says this thing must run its course,¡± Tony said. ¡°To be seen interfering in any way would cause more harm than to let the inquest have its investigation.¡±


    As usual, Morton wore brown ¡ª but the buttons on his jacket seemed familiar. ¡°Where did you get that jacket?¡±


    Morton shrugged. ¡°Your husband¡¯s men bought it after I was rescued from the river. Mine was ruined, and I don¡¯t dare return for my clothing in case my house is being watched. Your husband has been kind enough to provide me with a new wardrobe, for which I¡¯m grateful.¡±


    I hurried round the table to him. ¡°I¡¯ve seen this button before. I found this exact button on the floorboards of a carriage stolen from Market Center by the two men who kidnapped David.¡±


    Morton froze. At the time, he had been disguised, claiming to be a member of the Diamond portion of the Pot as he helped Frank Pagliacci lure me. Did he tell Tony that part? ¡°As you can see, all of the buttons remain on this jacket.¡±


    I turned to Tony. ¡°I asked Madame Biltcliffe where the button came from. She said they were hand-carved. Only twenty were made, enough for two jackets. We must learn where your men got this jacket, so we can question the owner to see if he recalls who bought its twin.¡±Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    Tony nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll have them do that at once.¡±


    * * *


    Tony asked me not to appear at morning meeting. Perhaps he felt the servants might express their true thoughts about Tenni if I were absent.


    In any case, I had ample time to walk in the gardens with Amelia¡¯s son Pip. He tossed an old baseball to Rocket, our black pitbull terrier.


    ¡°How do you like rooming with the men?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡± Pip threw the ball, and Rocket raced after it. Then the dog raced back, ears up. Pip threw the ball again. ¡°They helped with the horses while Daddy was gone.¡±


    Rocket dropped the ball in front of us. Pip grabbed the ball and threw it, hard. ¡°I¡¯m not going to tend the horses anymore.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    Misery crossed his face. ¡°I heard what the men said. I don¡¯t want to work for Daddy anymore.¡±


    ¡°What did the men say?¡±


    ¡°That it wasn¡¯t right for Daddy to stay at the Country House with Mommy and my sisters and send me away. That it wasn¡¯t my fault what Mr. Roy did to Mommy.¡±


    Rocket dropped the ball at Pip¡¯s feet, tail wagging.


    Pip stood still, head drooping. ¡°Mr. Roy did something real bad to Mommy, something too bad even for men to say.¡± He knelt to hug Rocket. ¡°I think it¡¯s why she hates me. But why does she think it¡¯s my fault? Why did Daddy send me away?¡± He put his head on Rocket¡¯s back. ¡°I don¡¯t know what I did to make them hate me.¡±


    I crouched beside him. ¡°You didn¡¯t do anything wrong, sweetie. Look at me.¡±


    Tears glistened in his pale blue eyes.


    ¡°You¡¯re right; Mr. Roy did a very bad thing to your Ma.¡± I bit my lip, not knowing how much to say. ¡°But the men are right too; it¡¯s not your fault.¡±


    Pip turned away. ¡°Then Mommy and Daddy are bad to blame me. They¡¯re bad to send me away.¡± He shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s not right. I don¡¯t want to work for Daddy anymore. I feel hateful when I see him. Both of them.¡±


    I lobbed the ball far into the meadow. Rocket raced away. ¡°Come.¡± I held out my hand, and we walked in the garden under the watchful gaze of Roy¡¯s men. ¡°What will you do then, if not help with the horses?¡±


    Pip¡¯s face lit up, and he let go of my hand, jumping up and down. ¡°Monsieur and Miss Anne are teaching me to cook! I helped roll the pastries, and they¡¯re going to show me how to make sausage!¡±


    I smiled. ¡°Monsieur makes the best sausage.¡±


    Pip beamed.


    ¡°But Monsieur sounds so fierce. Aren¡¯t you afraid of him?¡±


    ¡°Oh, no, mum, not at all. Miss Anne says he sounds fierce, like Rocket when he smells gunpowder, but he¡¯d never hurt anyone.¡± He patted Rocket¡¯s head and threw the ball. ¡°Monsieur likes me, him and Miss Anne both. They really like me.¡± Rocket dropped the ball, and Pip picked it up slowly, face pensive. ¡°I don¡¯t think Mommy and Daddy ever liked me much.¡±


    This was heartbreaking.


    A cat ran past. Rocket barked, chasing it around the corner.


    I put my hand on Pip¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I think they love you as best they can, your Daddy especially. He didn¡¯t want you to stay with the men. He even came in the house to ask me not to let you go. I could tell it scared him, but he did it anyway.¡± I peered at him, trying to decide what to say. ¡°But sometimes other things make it so they don¡¯t know how to love you very well.¡±


    Pip nodded, his face serious and pale. ¡°What happened to my Mommy?¡±


    The exact question I didn¡¯t want to answer. I let out a breath, shaking my head. ¡°It¡¯s her story, and not for me to tell. Maybe she¡¯ll tell you someday.¡± I doubted it, but it might keep his questions at bay.


    ¡°But why? Everyone else knows. They look at me and whisper when they think I can¡¯t see.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I really am. You deserve to know. But ... maybe someday.¡±


    He peered up at me, a young Roy. Was that man ever so innocent? ¡°When I get grown up?¡±


    I smiled. ¡°Yes. When you get grown up, I¡¯m sure they¡¯ll tell you. If they don¡¯t tell you, when you become a man I¡¯ll tell you everything. I promise.¡±


    He frowned, then kicked a rock. ¡°It¡¯s not fair.¡±


    ¡°Yes, dear, I know. Most things in life aren¡¯t fair at all.¡±


    * * *


    Eventually, we went back to the house and Pip went off to his work. I returned to my room, but Amelia wasn¡¯t there. So I went to my dresser to put my gloves away.


    I normally placed a hair across the locked drawer, but inside, where it would only be disturbed by opening the drawer.


    The hair was gone.


    I opened the drawer. The five pages of information I wrote back in January with all I knew about Morton was gone. In its place lay a letter:


    My dear Mrs. Spadros,


    I apologize for the intrusion, but this was the place least likely to be discovered by others before you found it.


    Please don¡¯t trouble yourself about the events on the train. I understand your intention was only to create a certain distraction for our flight from the police. While it was a most pleasant diversion,


    I laughed. I¡¯m sure it was, Master Rainbow.


    I expect nothing more from you and no one will ever learn of it from me.


    That he took the time to write reassuring words touched me.


    I have need to tell you more of this woman Birdie who worked with Frank Pagliacci. Yet I can never get a moment to speak with you in private. Perhaps your husband suspects more than a carriage ride to the train station with Miss Diamond occurred last month.


    Here¡¯s what I observed: she was young and lovely, perhaps your age, with light skin, blue eyes, and jet black hair. But she seemed quite definite in her bearing, as if used to commanding men. I¡¯ve never seen such a demeanor in a woman before, and it made her rather imposing. She didn¡¯t look like any of the Families. Her height, medium, with a fine form. She had long delicate fingers, I remember them well.


    She wore red. Her accent was of Bridges; I¡¯m sure she¡¯s not an outsider. But there was something about her which spoke of a difference between her and most quadrant-folk.


    This was a cursory observation; perhaps others may give you more detail.


    I wish you luck in your ultimate goal to leave the city and be free of the Families altogether. Try not to appear so eager.


    If I can get into this drawer, others can too.


    Your servant, BR


    This is a farewell note.


    Morton must have been more disturbed by talk of the inquest than I thought. I closed the drawer, locked it, and tossed the letter into the fire.


    A few minutes later, Amelia returned. ¡°Mum, I didn¡¯t know you were here. You should have rung for me!¡± She got me changed and was in the midst of doing my hair when a knock came at the door. ¡°Bother these interruptions!¡± Amelia snapped. ¡°Who is it?¡±


    Tony¡¯s head came round the door. ¡°Pardon my appearance in my wife¡¯s chambers, Amelia, but I have words for her.¡±


    Amelia turned crimson and curtsied low. ¡°My apologies, sir! I thought you were the footman.¡± She rushed past Tony.


    I chuckled. ¡°Come in.¡±


    Tony closed the door behind him. ¡°Master Rainbow is gone.¡±


    ¡°Could someone have taken him?¡±


    Tony pulled up a chair from my tea-table, sat beside me, and held up a paper. ¡°He left a letter.¡±


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s a relief. With all that¡¯s happened ...¡±


    Tony peered at me, then nodded.


    ¡°Did he say why?¡±


    ¡°He can¡¯t risk being called before the court or photographed: it would put his life in danger.¡± Tony paused. ¡°In that, I agree. He wishes us only to refer to him as Mr. Graham Morton.¡±


    ¡°Surely the staff knows him as Master Blaze Rainbow.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve warned the staff that they must not reveal Master Rainbow was here, not even to other members of the Family.¡±


    Roy surely knew of Morton¡¯s presence and considered him no threat, or he¡¯d be dead by now. ¡°He¡¯s been a loyal friend. But I understand his predicament.¡±


    ¡°One more item to speak with our attorneys with.¡±


    ¡°So we¡¯ll meet with them before they appear on our behalf?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯ve been there from the beginning. They aren¡¯t allowed to present evidence, but they ensure Spadros Family interests are protected.¡± He took a deep breath, let it out. ¡°To answer your question, we¡¯ll meet with them before we¡¯re to appear. I hope you¡¯ve told me everything. I don¡¯t relish being surprised in front of those men.¡±


    * * *


    After Amelia finished my hair, I took care of my mail. As I suspected, there was no one in the city registered with the name Birdie, or anything similar. A nickname?


    None of my contacts knew much about Marja. This didn¡¯t surprise me. Until a few years ago, she lived in the Pot.


    As I pondered my next play, I realized: Pearson would be the best person to ask about the facility. He told me about it in the first place. So I directed him to learn what he could.


    Then I went to the veranda to smoke; Amelia followed me. ¡°Mum! Come upstairs, I¡¯ll get you into a walking dress.¡±


    I spoke more sharply than I intended. ¡°I¡¯ve worn this dress an hour! I don¡¯t need special clothes to walk in my own garden!¡±


    Amelia flushed red and curtsied. ¡°Yes, mum.¡±


    I lit a cigarette. To hell with Roy and his constant meddling! At this point I hoped he would try to hit me again.


    The sun was high in the overcast sky when Mary Pearson came to tell me that Master Jonathan Diamond was here to call.


    ¡°Excellent!¡± I was going to have him seated outside, but I remembered his health. ¡°How did he look? Is he well?¡±


    ¡°He looks quite fine, mum.¡± An instant later, she blushed.


    I smiled at her, amused. ¡°Show him out to the veranda then, and bring tea. Master Diamond prefers his with milk.¡±


    I stepped on my cigarette then went to the veranda.


    Jon, a tall man of twenty and six with skin so dark as to almost be black, emerged from the house and kissed my hand. He glanced around, the ever-present brown velvet bag of vials at his left hip clinking. ¡°Is Mr. Spadros not home?¡±


    I glanced over his shoulder. ¡°Mary, tell Mr. Spadros that Master Jonathan Diamond has come to call.¡±


    Jon pulled out my favorite chair in the corner. Then he sat to my right. ¡°I¡¯m so glad to see you well. I¡¯ve worried for you.¡±


    He was such a dear man. ¡°Likewise.¡±


    Mary arrived with the tea-tray. ¡°Mr. Anthony says he¡¯ll be down momentarily.¡± She poured for us then curtsied and left.


    I blew on my tea to cool it then took a sip. ¡°To what do we owe the honor of your company?¡±


    Jon smiled, turned towards me. ¡°I wished to see you.¡±


    I thought I¡¯d ask before Tony emerged. ¡°Is Gardena well?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s visiting friends in the country today.¡±


    ¡°And your brothers?¡±


    Jon chuckled. ¡°They¡¯re well also.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve never asked after them before.¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯ve never met them before.¡± I considered the matter. ¡°But I don¡¯t believe we were ever formally introduced.¡± I laughed. ¡°The whole matter was strange. Mr. Cesare had nothing but insult, and the rest stood round looking embarrassed.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s usually how things occur when with my brother.¡±


    I chuckled. ¡°He spoke sharply, yes, but only the truth.¡± I thought about this for a minute. ¡°I think that¡¯s why I like you so; you only speak truth to me.¡±


    Jon turned away then, and I would swear he looked sad.


    Tony appeared. ¡°Jon! How are you?¡± We all rose, and the men shook hands, then we sat, Tony to my left. ¡°You look well,¡± he said to Jon. ¡°The country suits you.¡±


    Jon chuckled. ¡°I hadn¡¯t been to see my nephew in some time. He loves trains, so we went to the river for a few days to visit the station. He loved the puppet show there.¡±


    Tony leaned forward. ¡°What else did you do?¡±


    ¡°He showed me his animals ¡ª pigs, cows.¡± Jon laughed as if taken by some amusing thought. ¡°He tried to ride a pig and got spilled in the mud!¡±


    I didn¡¯t know this nephew Jon spoke of, so the conversation didn¡¯t interest me. But Tony hung on Jon¡¯s every word.


    For an instant, I wished for brothers, sisters, cousins, nephews. Those in Ma¡¯s cathedral were my family, but now even they were lost to me. Would I ever see them again?


    Jon glanced at me. ¡°How did you like the country?¡±


    A mix of emotions crossed Tony¡¯s face ... disappointment and shock, yet a sudden relief?


    I smiled at Jon, hoping he might enlighten me. ¡°Please don¡¯t stop talking about your nephew''s exploits on my account.¡±


    ¡°I forgot you didn¡¯t know who I meant.¡± Jon leaned back. ¡°The boy you saw on Market Center. Remember?¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± I said. ¡°Yes!¡± I pictured him falling off a pig and chuckled. ¡°That does sound amusing. I hope he wasn¡¯t hurt?¡±


    ¡°Oh, no,¡± Jon said. ¡°He¡¯s past the age of crying with every spill. He¡¯s a sturdy lad with a sunny disposition. One of the happiest boys I¡¯ve ever seen.¡±


    Out of the corner of my eye Tony turned away. ¡°Excuse me.¡± He went into the house.


    I turned to Jon. ¡°Is anything wrong?¡±


    Jon gave a one-shoulder shrug, not looking at me. He rested his elbow on the table, his head leaning on his hand. ¡°What have you heard about the inquest?¡±


    Tony was upset about something ¡ª but I didn¡¯t understand what. ¡°We¡¯re supposed to meet with the lawyers soon. Tony seems to be dreading it.¡± I glanced at the open doorway; Tony was nowhere in sight. ¡°He made me speak of my business.¡±


    Jon¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°He and his men caught me coming back from a case ¡ª¡±


    Jon gave me a quick startled glance, and I realized I hadn¡¯t told him about anything that had happened since the New Year.


    ¡°¡ª wearing Madame¡¯s clothes. He threatened to send Madame and her shop girl to his father.¡±


    Jon put his hand to his forehead. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Jacqui.¡± He took a deep breath, let it out. ¡°How much did you tell him?¡±


    ¡°About the business, but I mentioned no names. He specifically asked about the night Daniel was killed. I told him what happened, and my father¡¯s part in it.¡±


    Jon nodded. ¡°But not about Air.¡±


    I laughed in spite of myself. ¡°Pandora¡¯s deck will never be dealt if I have anything to say about it.¡±


    ¡°Jacqui, sooner or later he¡¯s going to find out. He deserves to hear it from you. It¡¯ll be difficult ¡ª¡± He stopped, then let out a breath, ¡°¡ª very difficult, but so far as I can tell, he¡¯s broken off with his father. Things are changing, Jacqui. If you stand with him, the two of you can get through this.¡± Jon turned away. ¡°Would it help if I were there when you told him?¡±


    ¡°Joe says he loves me, Jon. He wants to take me and leave Bridges.¡± I hesitated, not wanting to cause Jon any grief. ¡°I want to go with him.¡±


    Jon turned towards me, concern on his face. ¡°Jacqui ¡ª¡±


    Tony approached the doors from inside the dining room. I called out to him. ¡°Are you well?¡±


    Tony nodded. ¡°I forgot to tell Pearson something important.¡± He gave a fake smile, sat. ¡°How¡¯s your tea?¡±


    Jon said, ¡°Cold, most likely. I completely forgot about it.¡±


    Pearson came outside. ¡°Will Master Diamond be joining us for luncheon?¡±


    Tony turned to Jon. ¡°I¡¯d be honored to have you.¡±


    So we had luncheon on the veranda, a much more pleasant affair than when we hosted Josie three months before.


    Tony seemed to have forgotten whatever it was that upset him so. But evidently he knew the little boy from Market Center. Why did he not say so when I mentioned him before?

 Chapter 3: The Ace of Clubs - Round 12: The Anniversary

    As Jon was leaving, Pearson approached us. ¡°A delivery, sir.¡± Past him outside the open doorway, one of Tony¡¯s men held Rocket¡¯s leash as they walked down the front path.


    ¡°Write if you need anything,¡± Jon said, then followed them to his white and silver carriage at the curb.


    In the entryway, four burly young men struggled to carry two black and white urns of polished marble, which held houseplants with large dark glossy leaves. The urns and plants were similar to those in the hallway at the chapel where we were married.


    A middle-aged, balding man in rumpled overalls stood nearby with a clipboard. ¡°Where do ya want them?¡±


    ¡°In the parlor beside the sofa,¡± I said, pointing the way.


    I said to Pearson, ¡°Who are they from?¡±


    Pearson handed me an envelope holding an embossed card:


    To Anthony and Jacqueline


    On your anniversary


    Roy and Molly Spadros


    Today¡¯s our anniversary, I thought. Four years. I¡¯d completely forgotten. ¡°How kind of them!¡± Roy and Molly had never sent an anniversary gift before. Why now? ¡°They must be from your mother: your father would never pick these colors.¡±


    Tony chuckled at that. ¡°I¡¯ll write thanking her at once.¡±


    Tony and I were puzzled when one of Molly¡¯s men galloped up: she never sent anything. We felt perplexed when the urns were emptied and found to contain garden dirt and houseplants.


    Who sent these, and why?


    * * *


    Since the Kerrs had some time ago invited us to join them at the racetrack, for our anniversary Tony accepted their offer. We left the gray cobblestones of Spadros, drove through the island of Market Center, and over to Hart quadrant, which had streets of closely-laid deep red brick. It might¡¯ve been faster to travel through Diamond, or even Clubb, but it was safer to travel this way. In any case, we had several armed outriders with us.


    The racetrack was far out into the Hart countryside. At the time, I thought: This must have been part of the trip Joe took which ended in his terrible fall.


    Tony said, ¡°Any news from Master Kerr?¡±


    I laughed. ¡°Are you reading my mind now? No. I hope that means he¡¯s well. Do you think his cast is off yet?¡±


    ¡°So he never wrote you this entire time?¡± Tony seemed at a loss. ¡°I thought the two of you were fast friends.¡±


    Indeed, I loved no one more. But my letters went unanswered. ¡°He¡¯s never been a letter-writer.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t sure he even knew how to write; I hadn¡¯t learned until I was twelve, and he was taken from the Pot much later. ¡°I¡¯ll inquire when we next meet.¡±


    Tony smiled. ¡°I¡¯m sure you and Josie will have much to chatter about as well.¡±


    Josie had sent a printed condolence card for Anastasia, which was quite kind under the circumstances.


    They¡¯re grieving Marja¡¯s loss. It would be cruel to expect them to write, when the only mother they knew had been murdered.


    * * *


    The buildings at the racetrack were red brick trimmed in white, a black wrought iron fence round the whole complex. It reminded me of the fence surrounding the Pot since the Coup.


    When we arrived, men dressed in the red and silver livery of the Hart Family unhitched our horses. Our guards flanked us as we followed a man in Hart livery up the red brick steps carpeted in brilliant red to a set of glass-paneled white doors, similar to the doors leading out to the veranda at Spadros Manor.


    Silver and crystal chandeliers hung from the white vaulted ceiling several stories above us. Dozens of men, women, and children traversed the cherry-paneled hall while a man¡¯s voice spoke rapidly overhead. Many stared at Tony as we passed.


    I giggled, taking Tony¡¯s arm. ¡°You¡¯re quite the attraction.¡±


    Tony rarely smiled in public; he was a master at not revealing how he felt. ¡°This building is astonishing. I find it difficult not to goggle like a tourist at the sight.¡±


    I patted his arm. ¡°You¡¯re doing quite well.¡±


    A short, broad flight of white steps rose to a landing with many sets of glass-paneled white doors. These stood open, dozens going through. Our guide led us to an immense stadium.


    Horses ran in the distance. Tens of thousands of cherry-stained wooden seats teemed with parasols and top hats, Derby hats, and caps. Children frolicked on the wooden steps, while the man¡¯s voice ¡ª now broadcast over the crowd ¡ª continued its rapid pace. The crowd cheered. ¡°This is spectacular.¡±


    ¡°This way, mum,¡± our guide said. Everyone stood waiting.


    I turned to Tony. ¡°I suppose now I¡¯m the tourist.¡±


    Tony¡¯s eyes flashed amusement before his mask reappeared.


    We followed to the left, then up a long flight of white steps. Finally we came to glass-paneled white doors.


    To our left, picture windows showed the entire raceway. A buffet lay along the far wall. To our right, windows displayed the countryside. The announcer¡¯s voice continued its rapid assessment overhead, delicious smells filling the air. The room ¡ª thrice the size of our dining hall ¡ª was full of people. The tables and chairs were of cherry-wood, with seats cushioned in silver and red brocade.


    Charles Hart, portly and red-haired, moved toward us as we entered. He shook hands with Tony, kissed mine. ¡°How good of you to come!¡± He gestured to the room. ¡°My home is yours.¡±


    I glanced back. ¡°Where¡¯s Honor?¡±


    Tony chuckled. ¡°Forgive my wife, sir; she has far too much regard for her servants.¡± He leaned toward me. ¡°Our men are well, my love.¡±


    A trio of musicians began setting up next to the buffet.


    Mr. Hart bent closer, his voice conspiratorial. ¡°The servants¡¯ accommodations are the best in Bridges. They can drink a pint and bet on the games, shout when they win and curse when they lose ¡ª without having to worry about our tidy disapproval.¡±


    I laughed. We were a rather prim lot. ¡°I like you, Mr. Hart.¡±


    At this, he seemed touched. ¡°And I like you too, my dear.¡±


    ¡°Look,¡± Tony said, ¡°your friends.¡± He pointed to our right.


    Joe and Josie sat at a corner table across the room with several others. With her back to the large picture window, Josie made a lovely portrait with her golden curls and clear blue eyes. She nudged Joe, and he looked to her, as if taken off guard.


    Joe grasped crutches standing against the wall, gazed at me with those beautiful green eyes, and smiled.


    Joseph Kerr¡¯s smile held the life and gladness of a summer day, the joy and ease usually only found in the smallest of children. It was innocent and earnest, lighting up the room.


    Our eyes met, and I felt that electric shock to my soul.


    Gods, how I loved him.


    ¡°Mr. Spadros,¡± Charles Hart said. The unease in his voice startled me away from Joe¡¯s magnetic gaze. ¡°Perhaps we might sit here? I have a table prepared.¡±


    Tony said, ¡°We should go to them, rather than force them to come to us.¡± He took my arm. ¡°Excuse us, sir.¡±


    ¡°Not at all.¡± Mr. Hart¡¯s face was grim. ¡°Enjoy your friends.¡±


    We crossed the room past tables full of people smoking, chatting, eating, and drinking. Most had reddish hair, but some had the straight heavy black hair of Mr. Hart¡¯s ancestors.


    ¡°Tony, should we have spurned Mr. Hart¡¯s invitation?¡±


    ¡°Nonsense,¡± Tony said. ¡°You deserve to be among friends today. Besides, I wish to dine with them.¡±


    Surely the reason we visited was to strengthen ties with the Harts? Why else provoke Roy by coming here?


    Josie and Joe stood waiting for us.


    My heart was pounding, my mouth dry. I longed to caress Joe¡¯s soft brown hair, to press his golden body against mine.


    Tony shook Joe¡¯s hand. ¡°Good to see you up, sir.¡±


    Joe reached out, his eyes on mine, and kissed my hand as Tony kissed Josie¡¯s. ¡°A pleasure to see you, Mrs. Spadros.¡±


    ¡°And I you.¡± I couldn¡¯t linger on his hand, as much as I wished to. I took Josie¡¯s hands. ¡°I¡¯m so glad to see you.¡±


    Josie smiled. ¡°I¡¯m glad to see you as well.¡± She gestured to the empty table. ¡°Would you care to join us?¡±


    I gasped. ¡°Your friends didn¡¯t need to leave on our account!¡±


    Waiters took Joe and Josie¡¯s plates, swept crumbs, wiped down and set the table. The room buzzed with conversation.


    Josie shrugged. ¡°The table has changed twice in as many hours. They wanted to bet a new round.¡±


    Indeed, the announcer called for those placing bets to come forward. But why throw money away on a chance to win more?


    ¡°Well, then,¡± Tony said, ¡°let¡¯s eat!¡± He held out a chair for me across from Joe, then took a seat next to Josie.


    A waiter approached. ¡°What shall I bring you, Mr. Spadros?¡±


    ¡°A selection from the buffet. And wine for the table, please.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s very kind of you, sir,¡± Josie said.


    Tony laughed. ¡°It¡¯s easy to be gracious in someone else¡¯s home. Thank Mr. Hart.¡±


    Josie seemed amused.


    Joe sat regarding me.


    I recalled how I touched Tony, and heat rushed to my cheeks at the thought of touching Joe that way. ¡°I hope you¡¯re well?¡±


    ¡°Quite well, thank you,¡± Joe said, ¡°all things considered.¡±


    They both wore black. Much of the room wore black still, others dark colors such as navy, deep purple, charcoal. Yet most of the room laughed and were merry, betting and drinking.


    Tony said, ¡°Did you lose someone in the explosion?¡±


    Josie glanced away, handkerchief held to her face.


    Tony said, ¡°Forgive me, I didn¡¯t mean to cause grief.¡±


    Joe appeared unperturbed. ¡°No one of any importance to us was aboard. A woman who was as a mother to us was murdered the night before the disaster. So we mourn her as we would our mother, if we would have known her.¡±


    Tony seemed confused.


    Josie said, ¡°Our mother died bearing us.¡±


    Tony stared at Joe. ¡°Who would murder a woman? My sincerest apologies, sir. Have the police caught the scoundrel?¡±Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    An instant of anger went through them both.


    ¡°Marja was from the Pot, sir,¡± Josie said, glancing away. ¡°There was little interest in the case.¡±


    If the swarm of police outside Vig¡¯s bar after Marja¡¯s death wasn¡¯t there for Marja, why were they there?


    Tony said, ¡°Couldn¡¯t Mr. Hart persuade them to investigate?¡±


    Bribe them is what he meant.


    Joe said, ¡°She was murdered in Spadros quadrant.¡±


    Tony sat back, mouth open. Waiters set large serving platters full of various foods in front of us, along with bottles of wine. But by custom, none of us could eat until Tony did. ¡°How can I help?¡±


    Josie shrugged. The announcer chattered overhead.


    Tony glanced around. ¡°I seem to have lost my manners.¡± He spooned food onto his plate and took a bite. ¡°Please, join me.¡±


    The look which crossed Josie¡¯s eyes was cynical, disdainful, and amused at the same time. And I recalled what she said in February: I¡¯m not above begging for anything that will help my family prosper. Even from him. I wondered if she still harbored anger towards Tony for killing Ottilie, Treysa, and Poignee.


    We sat eating to the sound of the announcer, the crowd, and rousing jazz music. After some time, Mr. Hart came to the table. ¡°Mr. Spadros! Would you and your wife like to watch the races?¡±


    ¡°Certainly,¡± Tony said. He turned to me. ¡°Excuse me, my dear, I¡¯ll leave you to chat with your friends.¡±


    Mr. Hart¡¯s face went cold.


    I smiled up at Tony. ¡°Thank you. I¡¯ll be along shortly.¡±


    Josie rose. ¡°I¡¯d like some air.¡±


    Joe moved to get up, but she waved him off. ¡°I¡¯ll just be on the landing.¡± She smiled. ¡°You two have much to discuss.¡±


    Josie strolled across the room and opened the door to the landing, the breeze tossing her blonde curls. Tony and Mr. Hart stood at the railing before the picture windows.


    I gazed across the table at Joe.


    His eyes never left mine. ¡°You look lovely.¡±


    I smiled. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve missed you. My days are filled with dull exercise.¡±


    ¡°Why did you never write me?¡±


    His gaze never faltered. ¡°With the expense of doctors and attendants after my injury, then Marja¡¯s funeral, we couldn¡¯t afford to send mail. Choosing between pen, paper, ink, messenger fees to your Country House, and food ¡ª¡± he shrugged. ¡°We¡¯re grateful Mr. Hart brought us here today.¡±


    I recalled Mr. Hart¡¯s demeanor just now. ¡°What¡¯s happened, Joe? Does your grandfather no longer have an allowance?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s complex.¡± He shifted in his chair. ¡°My grandfather¡¯s a proud man. Mr. Hart helps him, but his aid comes at a price.¡±


    Ah. I remembered Roy¡¯s methods of ensuring loyalty. ¡°I see.¡± Doubtless Mr. Kerr hid his financial difficulties so as not to be further entrapped in Family matters.


    Joe patted the table to his right. ¡°Sit by me.¡±


    I moved to Tony¡¯s seat so as not to appear too intimate. Tony glanced at us, then resumed talking. Mr. Hart stared at us, the stiffness of his posture displaying his unease.


    Many in the room sneaked glances at us. The memory of Joe¡¯s kiss in the Kerr¡¯s parlor two months ago lingered; I gripped my empty glass so as not to reach for his hand.


    A waiter came up. ¡°More wine, mum?¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± Joe said. ¡°You must try their new drink.¡± He turned to the waiter. ¡°Chocolate martinis for us both.¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir,¡± the waiter said, disappearing into the crowd.


    ¡°Do you remember our last meeting?¡± Joe said.


    His touch, his kiss .... ¡°How could I forget?¡±


    ¡°You seemed intoxicated. I don¡¯t want to offend.¡±


    ¡°Joe, never doubt my feelings for you. Ever.¡± I took a deep breath, gazed into his eyes. ¡°I''ve never truly loved anyone else.¡±


    The night I gave myself to Tony flashed before me then, and I gripped the stem of my glass, guilt at my betrayal gnawing at me. I faced the room. ¡°I have decided to learn who killed Marja.¡±


    He let out a breath. ¡°Damn this leg! I should be out finding her murderer.¡± He spoke earnestly. ¡°You must not do this.¡±


    I snorted, amused. ¡°You sound like my husband. He¡¯s forbidden me to continue my business.¡±


    ¡°You told him?¡± He paused a moment. ¡°Did he hurt you?¡±


    I smiled to myself. ¡°He told me I was brave. But I¡¯m forbidden to go anywhere without escort.¡±


    Joe hesitated. ¡°It would be safer.¡±


    Should I tell him? ¡°Marja sent me a letter before she died, asking to meet. The night I did, I found her shot in the street.¡±


    Joe gazed at me, perfectly composed.


    Perhaps he¡¯d come to terms with her death. Perhaps it didn¡¯t seem real. But the memory of her death had haunted me ever since. ¡°She didn¡¯t die alone. I held her hand as she left us.¡± My vision blurred. ¡°Her last thought was for Josie.¡± I wiped my eyes. ¡°I promised her I¡¯d keep Josie safe ... and it occurred to me that if someone¡¯s targeting people I love, you¡¯re both in danger as well.¡±


    He leaned forward. ¡°Did she say anything else?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°I got there too late for that, it seems.¡±


    He rested his hand on my arm; his touch warmed me. ¡°We¡¯re safe, Jacqui.¡± He withdrew his hand as the waiter approached with our drinks. ¡°My friends¡¯ll guard us until I¡¯m well.¡±


    I sipped my drink. It was delicious.


    Joe said, ¡°But how can I help? The police won¡¯t do anything, and we have nothing to give them.¡±


    ¡°I believe my husband wants to help. See if Marja wrote to anyone else, or kept any private notes.¡±


    Joe nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll ask Josie.¡±


    I grinned. And how would he send the information? They had no money. ¡°Expect a package soon.¡±


    Joe appeared intrigued. ¡°I can¡¯t wait.¡±


    Josie pushed open the door, and I could tell she was annoyed. She went to Tony and spoke to him; he left the way she came in.


    Josie stood facing the window, arms crossed, then went to a group of younger men and women, who rose to greet her.


    Tony returned to our table. ¡°I hope the two of you are well?¡±


    I smiled up at him. ¡°Quite.¡±


    Joe said, ¡°I saw my sister speak with you.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s nothing,¡± Tony said. ¡°One of our horses stumbled and fell when they brought it to the stable; the doctor¡¯s seeing to it. They told the driver it was just a scratch, but it¡¯s best to be safe.¡±


    I said, ¡°Poor thing.¡±


    Tony said to Joe, ¡°The Dealer has blessed you with a steadfast friend. She only thinks of helping others.¡±


    ¡°Sir,¡± Joe said, ¡°let me have the horse you lent us brought to you. I can call for it now. Then you can leave when you like.¡±


    Tony seemed touched. ¡°That¡¯s very kind, Master Kerr.¡±


    Joe said, ¡°I¡¯ll see to it at once.¡± He waved to Josie, who spoke to her friends then turned towards us.


    Tony said to me, ¡°Would you like to see the racing?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Joe said, ¡°you must. I insist.¡±


    ¡°Oh, no,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m quite comfortable here.¡± I looked at the large windows beside me. ¡°The view is magnificent.¡±


    ¡°Very well,¡± Tony said. ¡°Enjoy the view.¡± He returned to Mr. Hart, who slapped his shoulder and pointed to the racetrack.


    Josie had been standing aside. ¡°Yes, Joe?¡±


    ¡°Send for the horse Mr. Spadros lent us.¡±


    She seemed unsurprised. ¡°Of course.¡± She went back to her group and spoke in a young man¡¯s ear, who jostled two more. The three men walked towards the door and were gone.


    I said, ¡°Will you be able to manage with one horse?¡± Josie seemed so grateful to borrow our horse in the first place.


    Joe said, ¡°It¡¯s not such a grand offer, Jacqui. We sold our carriage and got one a single horse can pull. I might not be able to ride for some time. So we¡¯ll manage.¡± He gazed at me with those beautiful eyes. ¡°To be honest, we can¡¯t afford to feed it anymore.¡±


    This financial downturn seemed disheartening. He must feel humiliated. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    ¡°Marja. Do you have any idea who might have killed her?¡±


    I shook my head. I didn¡¯t really know anything. ¡°It was too convenient, Marja being killed right as I came to meet her.¡± If whoever conspired to kill my Ma discovered that Marja overheard them, they would have killed Marja sometime during the several days between when Marja¡¯s letter arrived and I left to meet her. Which reinforced the notion they killed her simply to torment me.


    Who knew I was going out? As far as I knew, only Sawbuck, Morton, and Blitz ¡ª unless someone else saw me leave and notified the killer. ¡°I fear a spy in my husband¡¯s guards.¡±


    ¡°The very men who protect you?¡±


    ¡°They¡¯re all Roy¡¯s men, Joe. Not one is there to protect me; it¡¯s all for my husband¡¯s benefit.¡±


    Joe became quite earnest. ¡°Well, then you must find a way to change that.¡± He glanced around. ¡°Why do they need you?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°As far as I can tell, for an heir. But any woman would suffice, except for the love my husband bears for me.¡±


    Joe¡¯s face darkened. ¡°I can¡¯t bear the thought of him touching you. I wish I were well. I¡¯d take you where he¡¯d never find you.¡±


    I thought of Madame Biltcliffe and her loveless marriage. ¡°I wish you were well, too. But you¡¯re not, so we must wait.¡±


    Tony kept glancing back at me.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Joe ¡ª I must leave you for now. I don¡¯t think Mr. Hart is pleased that we refused his invitation to dine.¡±


    Joe nodded. ¡°I understand.¡±


    ¡°Is something wrong? A falling-out between you?¡±


    Joe gazed aside, shoulders drooping. ¡°It was long ago.¡± He waved me on. ¡°You have your duties. Don¡¯t worry about me. Please, enjoy your day.¡± Then he held my hand tightly, kissed it. ¡°I¡¯m grateful for this time with you, however brief.¡±


    I felt touched. ¡°As am I. Farewell, my love.¡±


    * * *


    ¡°Ah, there you are, my dear,¡± Mr. Hart said as I approached. ¡°A race is just beginning.¡±


    I put my arm through Tony¡¯s, standing between the two men. A gun sounded far below. The horses ran, the men on their backs whipping them around and around, getting nowhere.


    Perhaps they were more like me than I imagined.


    At last, one ran faster, and everyone cheered. Or groaned, if they had bet on another, I suppose.


    ¡°So what do you think?¡± Mr. Hart said eagerly.


    I shrugged. ¡°Must they whip the horses?¡±


    Tony laughed. ¡°I told you she had her own mind. Even after so long in her company, still she surprises me.¡±


    Mr. Hart gazed at me as if trying to memorize my visage, yet his tone was light, soothing. ¡°It¡¯s all in fun, my dear. The horses aren¡¯t harmed.¡± He gave a short laugh. ¡°They¡¯re valuable animals, which I hope to keep in good health for many years.¡±


    He continued to look at me, and I began to feel uncomfortable at the intensity of his gaze. The hair on my arms stood on end. I moved to Tony¡¯s other arm. ¡°Well, that¡¯s a relief.¡±


    The day was lovely: a blue sky with white clouds floating high above the faint shimmer of the dome. Tony and Mr. Hart chatted, but Mr. Hart watched me more than the horses.


    Why did he keep staring at me?


    Mr. Hart turned to Tony. ¡°Might I speak with your wife, sir?¡±


    I said, ¡°My husband can hear anything you have to say ¡ª¡±


    ¡°Certainly,¡± Tony said, as if I had not spoken. ¡°Excuse me.¡± He left, disappearing into the Men¡¯s Room.


    Mr. Hart leaned against the brass railing in front of the large windows. His eyes never left mine. ¡°How do you like my home?¡±


    I glanced away, heart pounding. ¡°You live here?¡±


    He grinned. ¡°The Harts have lived at the racetrack since my grandfather and his brother captured it during the Coup. Next time you¡¯re here, I¡¯ll take you on a tour of our private quarters.¡±


    His tone made it seem much too intimate. ¡°My husband and I would be pleased to visit.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m glad.¡± His eyes met mine. ¡°You¡¯re enjoying your day?¡±


    He continued gazing at me. What were his intentions? I glanced away. ¡°Indeed, sir. I thank you for your hospitality.¡±


    He took a step towards me, and instinctively I drew back. I considered his wife Judith¡¯s past reactions to my presence. Did she believe him to have an unseemly attraction? He was old enough to be my grandfather!


    For an instant, he seemed unsure of how to proceed. ¡°You should beware of associating with Master Kerr. His reputation ¡ª¡±


    This was outrageous. I stood my ground, faced him. ¡°Sir, if I may. While I thank you for your counsel, you are neither my husband nor my father ¡ª¡±


    Mr. Hart flinched, setting his jaw.


    ¡°¡ª and I will not shun a man I¡¯ve known since birth on account of rumor. I¡¯m astonished you would slander a guest so.¡±


    Mr. Hart stood stock still, mouth open.


    ¡°Why is he here then, if you believe him to be unsuitable?¡±


    Mr. Hart flushed red. ¡°That¡¯s none of your concern.¡±


    Tony approached us. ¡°Is all well?¡±


    I clung to Tony¡¯s arm with both hands, grateful he¡¯d appeared. ¡°Perhaps it¡¯s time we left.¡±


    Tony shook his head. ¡°The horses aren¡¯t ready. Please, I wish the two of you to be friends.¡±


    ¡°Then our host must either explain himself or apologize.¡±


    Mr. Hart glanced away. ¡°Well, Mrs. Spadros, I don¡¯t need to explain myself to you.¡± He held out his hand. ¡°But I apologize for giving offense. It would please me to be friends.¡±


    I daresay it would please you to be much more than that.


    But I let him take my hand, which he held a bit longer than necessary. Then one of his men called him away.


    ¡°Jacqui,¡± Tony said in a whisper, ¡°what did he say?¡±


    ¡°He wants us to shun Joe.¡± I felt so angry I could barely speak. ¡°He brings the man to his table, yet tells his other guests to shun him. What kind of man does that?¡±


    Tony hesitated, then said, ¡°This hasn¡¯t been the outing I hoped. I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    I squeezed his arm. ¡°It¡¯s not your fault. Really. I¡¯m glad we came. It¡¯s been a lovely day.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps we should sit apart from the Kerrs, so as not to give offense.¡± Tony led me to a table for two by the wall, and there we waited, sipping wine until our horses were ready to leave.


    Josie refused to accompany us to the carriage. ¡°Joe¡¯s friends will carry him down,¡± she said, ¡°but they¡¯re rather flighty. I dare not leave him with them, or he may find himself alone.¡±


    Would these men protect him from Frank Pagliacci and Jack Diamond? I gripped her hand. ¡°Watch over him, Josie. I beg you.¡±


    ¡°I will.¡± She patted my hand. ¡°Enjoy your trip home.¡±


    * * *


    We drove through Hart quadrant, over the bridge to Market Center, over the bridge to Spadros, and past the Pot. The shadows had begun to lengthen.


    Tony said, ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me about Helen Hart?¡±


    Had he found out I lied? ¡°What about her?¡±


    ¡°About her illness? I should have guessed you weren¡¯t with her when you told me you went with Master Rainbow on his yacht. But ¡ª¡± he shook his head, ¡°I fear I caused Mr. Hart grief.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Tony. Josie told me about the baby, and ¡ª¡±


    ¡°What baby?¡±


    I stared at him. Did I reveal a confidence? ¡°Josie told me their baby died: it was born too soon.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡± Tony sounded dismayed.


    ¡°She made me promise not to tell. No one was to know for fear the papers would learn of it.¡±


    Tony¡¯s face fell. ¡°Mr. Hart made it sound a terrible illness.¡± His eyes narrowed. ¡°Did he lie to me?¡±


    I let out a breath. ¡°Tony, he may not trust you. I don¡¯t understand this split between Mr. Hart and the Kerrs. And ... Mr. Hart kept staring at me. Frankly, I felt uncomfortable.¡±


    Tony sounded hesitant. ¡°Jacqui ¡ª I don¡¯t think he meant anything by it.¡±


    Did Tony mean to say I imagined it? Where was his obsession with my reputation now? ¡°Whether he meant anything or not, it was quite rude for him to stare at me so. I have enough people calling me a ¡ª¡±


    The carriage turned off the main road. Tony grabbed the speaker tube. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    The driver said, ¡°Road¡¯s blocked, a turnip-cart spilled.¡±


    Tony peered out of the window. ¡°What a mess.¡± We started off again, full speed. He turned to me. ¡°Jacqui, you know how much I care about your ¡ª¡±


    A shot rang out. The carriage jolted and lurched to the right, as if running over something large with our left wheels, and a horse screamed. Then the carriage jerked backwards. I fell to the left as sand sprayed across my face. Tony fell atop me.


    What just happened?


    Tony stood. ¡°Are you hurt?¡±


    Shouts and whinnies filled the air; next to my head, a horse screamed in terror and pain. The carriage shuddered.


    ¡°No.¡± I glanced at the sky through the window just above Tony¡¯s head. ¡°Someone shot at us.¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Tony helped me to my feet. In the half-darkness, I couldn¡¯t tell what he was feeling.


    My gun was at home. ¡°What shall we do?¡±


    Tony climbed to the front of the carriage and opened the front window, crouching to peer outside. ¡°I don¡¯t see the driver. The horses are tangled.¡± He opened the back window. ¡°Oh, gods.¡±


    I retreated from the horse¡¯s screams; Tony held me.


    One of Tony¡¯s men appeared above us. ¡°Are you well, sir?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Tony said. ¡°Someone fired upon us.¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡± The man moved towards the front of the carriage, returning a moment later. ¡°Driver¡¯s dead, sir. Shot in the head.¡±


    I didn¡¯t even know the man¡¯s name.


    Tony said, ¡°Are the wheels damaged?¡±


    ¡°Let me check, sir.¡± He came back. ¡°I don¡¯t think so. We¡¯ve sent for another horse.¡± He grimaced. ¡°Sorry for the noise, sir; we can¡¯t tend to the horse until we get the carriage off it.¡±


    Honor¡¯s face replaced the man¡¯s. ¡°Lean on the seat, mum.¡±


    I did so, placing my feet on the carriage wall below me.


    Shouts, grunts, and groans as the carriage was righted with a mighty heave. I stood, opened the door, and sprang outside. A large crowd of sweating men surrounded the carriage.


    ¡°Thank you for your help,¡± I called out. ¡°Find the scoundrel who did this.¡±


    Shouts and cheers as men scattered to the buildings.


    Tony stood near the front of our carriage. His men assisted the horses, who had many cuts and scrapes on their sides.


    The horse lying at the rear of the carriage cried out, eyes wide, its flanks mangled by the carriage-wheels. A bloody mark lay on the cobblestones where it had been dragged by the reins.


    Honor shot the poor beast in the head and it lay still.


    ¡°That was the horse we lent the Kerrs,¡± Tony said. ¡°It would¡¯ve been better if it had stayed with them.¡±


    A card lay on the ground. It was the size of a business card, but blank. On the other side lay the silhouette of a dog, stamped in red: the mark of the Red Dog Gang.

 Chapter 3: The Ace of Clubs - Round 13: The Torment

    I sat on the sofa in my study, examining the card in my hand. Was this a coincidence? Or were these false Red Dogs claiming responsibility for this outrage?


    Tony soon followed. ¡°You¡¯re not going to believe this.¡± He sat in an armchair across from me, elbows on his knees, head down. ¡°The turnip truck spilled directly beyond a street under construction. Several men moved the warning signs a few hours ago, filled the hole with sand, and spread cloth painted like cobblestones. In the twilight, the driver never saw the danger.¡±


    I handed him the Red Dog card. ¡°It was a trap.¡±


    Tony peered at the card, then nodded.


    I shook my head. ¡°Someone knew when we left Hart quadrant and our route.¡±


    ¡°How can you be sure?¡±


    ¡°This took planning.¡±


    I gasped, recalling Mrs. Bryce¡¯s sale.


    ¡°What is it?¡±


    Where to begin? ¡°Master Rainbow claimed a black-haired woman named Birdie, who he met when he thought Frank Pagliacci was with the District Attorney¡¯s office ¡ª¡±


    ¡°Wait,¡± Tony said. ¡°Master Rainbow knew Frank Pagliacci?¡±


    Oh, dear. ¡°Master Hogan didn¡¯t tell you?¡±


    Tony frowned. ¡°No, he didn¡¯t.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Never mind that. What about this woman?¡±


    I bit my lip. I made Sawbuck promise not to tell, and then I did it myself. This wasn¡¯t going to end well.


    I took a deep breath and let it out. ¡°He later saw Birdie at the scene of a murder. I believe the person murdered had knowledge of the explosion, and this woman may have tried to silence her. I think Birdie and Frank Pagliacci, or perhaps another of his crew, set the bomb which destroyed Master Rainbow¡¯s yacht.¡±


    Tony peered at me, a slight frown on his face. ¡°So they were trying to kill those who might identify them.¡±


    ¡°Yes. I think your father¡¯s after them, which may be why.¡±


    If Jack Diamond had set alibis in advance as I suspected, he was more cunning than I thought. Not only did this protect him from Roy, but from Frank as well.


    Tony grinned. ¡°Good for him.¡± But then he paused. ¡°So what does this have to do with my driver?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯d best call Master Hogan in.¡±


    Tony left to find Sawbuck. Amelia entered with my mail ¡ª which I had her put on my desk ¡ª and tea. ¡°Master Hogan and my husband will be joining us; please bring tea for them as well.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s almost time to dress for dinner.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll take dinner in here.¡±


    ¡°Yes, mum.¡±


    I had well and truly erred. Once Tony realized Sawbuck hid something of this magnitude he would question what else he¡¯d hidden. Sawbuck hid our adventures the night Marja died from Tony because I asked him to, and would be furious.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Tony and Sawbuck stalked in. ¡°I must apologize.¡±


    That stopped them in their tracks.


    ¡°I asked Master Hogan to withhold certain events, and he did so out of love for you. No other reason.¡±


    Tony turned away, still angry.


    Sawbuck blushed.


    I stared at him, so astonished that it took a moment to regain my composure. Sawbuck loved Tony, but not as a father or older brother, as I''d thought, nor even as a cousin. ¡°Master Hogan ¡ª¡±


    Sawbuck knew that I knew. ¡°Please, call me Ten. If you will.¡±


    I felt humbled, melancholy. ¡°I¡¯m truly sorry. For everything.¡±


    Tony, still looking away, nodded. He hadn¡¯t noticed a thing.


    I took a deep breath. ¡°I suppose I''d best begin at the beginning.¡±


    The one thing I couldn¡¯t do was to reveal Rachel Diamond¡¯s intervention to help Ma. Tony¡¯s mother Molly had been crystal clear on that account. If anyone knew Ma was alive, it would put her ¡ª and possibly Mrs. Diamond ¡ª in mortal danger. So I told them the Kerr¡¯s housekeeper Marja raised me, Joe, Josie, and my kitchen maids Ottilie, Poignee, and Treysa, who Tony had killed.


    Tony turned pensive at that.


    Then I described Marja¡¯s letter, which warned a mutual friend was to be murdered. I left home the night Tony worked late at the casino to meet with Marja, only to find her mortally shot.


    ¡°Good gods,¡± Tony said. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry you had to see that.¡±


    I shrugged, but his words were such an echo of Joe¡¯s that it touched me. ¡°Master ... Ten found her. The police came, so we ran. But then Master Rainbow told us a woman with light skin and jet black hair ¡ª who called herself Birdie ¡ª just shot at him.¡±


    Tony¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°She shot at him, too?¡±


    Too? Could a woman have murdered Marja? But why? I nodded, saying to Sawbuck, ¡°But what driver had we that night?¡±


    Sawbuck paled. ¡°The same.¡±


    ¡°This evening was no accident, Tony. Our driver saw something that night he shouldn¡¯t have, and now he¡¯s dead.¡±


    If I hadn¡¯t gone out that night, perhaps neither of them would have died. My gaze fell to the blood-stained card on the table. How long would any of us survive? ¡°You wanted to know where I went before you found me at Madame¡¯s wearing her mourning garb? I visited David Bryce, the boy who was kidnapped.¡±


    ¡°Is he well?¡± Tony said.


    I shook my head. ¡°But his mother made a large sale of gray cloth earlier this month to a young woman with black hair. The woman said it was for art.¡±


    Tony and Sawbuck exchanged glances.


    ¡°Art,¡± Tony said bitterly. He pointed at the card. ¡°Perhaps it¡¯s best she not know she met with one of her child¡¯s kidnappers.¡±


    I shuddered, glancing towards the letters on my desk. ¡°When I spoke with your father at the Women¡¯s Club ¡ª¡±


    Sawbuck snorted in disdain, Tony flinched, and I let out a sigh. ¡°Yes, I know. But I did learn something.¡±


    Tony leaned forward.


    ¡°Your father mentioned how he learned of your injury ¡ª¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡± Tony said. ¡°I always wondered.¡±


    ¡°An anonymous letter from a young black-haired woman ¡ª¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± Sawbuck said. ¡°Birdie.¡±


    ¡°My thoughts exactly.¡± Then I turned to Tony. ¡°Your father agrees to let us examine the letter ... if we go to him for it.¡±


    Sawbuck began to laugh. ¡°This is rich! The man won¡¯t even help his own son without extracting some petty torment.¡±


    Tony shook his head. ¡°Are you surprised? If this is all, let¡¯s participate in his petty torment and be done with it.¡±


    I wasn¡¯t looking forward to this.


    ¡°Oh,¡± Tony said, ¡°I almost forgot. Pearson!¡±


    Pearson opened the door and stuck his head in. ¡°Yes, sir?¡±


    ¡°The package.¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡± Pearson brought in a medium-sized box wrapped in white paper, handing it to Tony.


    Tony offered it to me. ¡°Happy anniversary.¡±


    Sawbuck rose, clearly uncomfortable. ¡°I¡¯ll leave you, then.¡±


    ¡°Sure, Ten,¡± Tony said, his eyes never leaving mine, ¡°thanks for your help.¡± Once Sawbuck left, Tony said, ¡°Go on, open it.¡±


    Under the paper lay a stationery box: paper, pens, a small bottle of ink, sealing-wax, even matches. ¡°This is perfect!¡± Now I could send paper, pen, and ink to Joe so he could write me.


    ¡°Amelia told me you enjoyed writing whilst in your rooms.¡±


    I felt touched at his thoughtfulness. ¡°Thank you.¡± I put the box on the table and went to him.


    He rose, taking my hands in his. ¡°I¡¯m sorry today went so poorly.¡± He cupped my face in his hands, rested his forehead on mine. ¡°My only desire is for you to be the happiest woman alive. Whatever you wish for is yours.¡±


    I closed my eyes. But what if what I wish for is to be free?

 Chapter 3: The Ace of Clubs - Round 14: The Rule

    The next day, I went to Madame¡¯s shop for my fitting. Her store front had been tidied, and she met me out front as usual, but stiffly, without a smile. ¡°Come in.¡±


    My outriders dismounted; one went each way, another followed us. Madame turned to Honor and said, ¡°You men aren¡¯t allowed in here.¡±


    Honor hesitated, but Tony¡¯s other man said, ¡°He goes in, or I do. Or we return to the Manor. Your choice.¡±


    Madame glanced at Honor. ¡°Better a footman than a thug.¡±


    The other man snorted in amusement, then faced the street. After Madame, Honor, and I entered the store, Madame turned the placard to ¡°Closed: entry by appointment only,¡± and crossed to my private curtained dressing room. ¡°He will not come inside.¡±


    Honor said, ¡°Certainly not. But men watch each end of your back alley until we leave together.¡± He turned to me. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, mum.¡± He opened the curtain, letting it fall behind us.


    Madame whispered, ¡°It would have been better if you didn¡¯t come here.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    She said nothing.


    ¡°I want to continue having you as my dressmaker, very much so. I don¡¯t know what threats my husband gave you, but I had nothing to do with it.¡± I turned away. ¡°I hate him for it.¡±


    ¡°Ah, cherie ...¡± compassion laced her voice, ¡°the decision was mine. He wanted me to spy, and I said no.¡± She laid a hand on my shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t be troubled by it.¡±


    ¡°But why mustn¡¯t I visit? The sentiment against the Family?¡±


    Her sleeve had slid up: a large purple bruise lay on her arm.


    ¡°That¡¯s part of it,¡± she whispered. ¡°But ...¡± she glanced at her arm, then flinched away, covering the bruise with her hand.


    I felt horrified. ¡°Who hurt you?¡±


    She snorted. ¡°Spadros men. New ones, in Spadros livery. I didn¡¯t inform the Family of my ¡®extra¡¯ income over the years.¡±


    Shame flooded me, and remorse. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry.¡±


    She shrugged. ¡°I still have my teeth, and nothing is broken. I must pay double fees now.¡± She sounded weary. ¡°But I¡¯m alive.¡±


    Tenni peeked in. Madame said, ¡°Come in, dear girl, it¡¯s safe.¡±


    Tenni held the partially-completed dress. After helping me undress, Tenni and Madame pinned my new dress around me.


    ¡°May I ask something, Madame?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    ¡°Did you find anything missing? From your files?¡±


    ¡°There were several purchase orders gone ¡ª all ones your husband signed.¡±


    How would they even know such papers would be there? ¡°Has anyone been in your office? Did any unusual event happen before the break-in? Anything at all?¡±


    ¡°No ...¡± Madame said, but her eyes gazed far away. A line appeared between her perfect brows. ¡°Yes. There was one thing odd. Several months ago, a young woman asked to be measured. She was to be married in another city and needed notes for her dressmaker. I receive several requests like this each year.


    ¡°I measured her as I always do. I brought her to the office, wrote the measurements, then opened my cabinet to take out a folder. Just then, a messenger boy arrived with a letter. I took it, tipped the boy, then turned back, that quickly. I gave the woman my notes, she left.¡± She shook her head. ¡°The letter was blank.¡±


    ¡°Can you describe her?¡±


    Madame smiled, color rising to her cheeks. ¡°Very pretty, very young. A lovely figure and straight black hair. Porcelain skin, blue eyes. Ah, a gorgeous girl.¡±


    This sounded suspiciously like that woman Birdie. ¡°Do you have her file?¡±


    Madame stared at me, mouth open. ¡°I do.¡±


    Honor gave me a surprised glance over his shoulder as the curtain flew open.


    Madame returned with a thin file. On the tab: ¡°Eunice Ogier.¡±


    A windswept cemetery, an empty grave. Men strained at the winches as they lowered a coffin inside. Molly held my hand. I looked up at her. ¡°This is how we do for our dead.¡±


    I nodded. Not left on the street for the rats and crows like in the Pot.


    But I couldn¡¯t see her inside that box, and I couldn¡¯t sit next to her, or comb her hair. I couldn¡¯t hold her hand, and no one let me take her rings. They¡¯d never be sold to help her people. I didn''t understand.


    Eunice Ogier was old, old. She didn¡¯t call me a Pot rag like the others. One night, she told me she and her family left the Pot to stay with the first Acevedo Spadros when she was a little girl, back when the Pot was good, just before the war. He told her they would be in his family now. ¡°I¡¯ll always remember him for that.¡±


    Some nights, she cried about him dying.


    Could there be someone else in the city with that name?The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Surely not. She had no children. Her relatives died long ago.


    Who knew I used the name Eunice Ogier on my cases?


    * * *


    For the rest of the visit ¡ª and on the way home ¡ª I pondered the question. My contacts were the only ones who could connect me with that name. An elderly servant at the Country House. A few people in various government offices on Market Center. Thrace Pike. And Mr. Blackberry at the Bridges Daily.


    Mr. Blackberry was at the Clubb desk for years before he became editor. He¡¯d given me all sorts of information, never asking for anything in return. Could he be giving my information to the Clubbs?


    But Ottilie, Treysa, and Poignee had been stealing my letters: they knew this name too. This was the first real evidence they might have been in league with the Red Dog Gang.


    I could understand their petty attempts at blackmail. I could even understand stealing my letters out of curiosity. But to send my personal information to someone wishing me harm? What had I done to them, other than offer a better life?


    * * *


    When I returned home, I went straight to Tony¡¯s room. His manservant Jacob Michaels was helping Tony into his jacket when I walked in. ¡°Jacqui? What is it?¡± Tony said.


    I said to Michaels, ¡°Please leave us.¡±


    Michaels bowed, shutting the door behind him.


    ¡°Why did you kill my kitchen maids? What did they say?¡±


    Tony sat heavily on his bed, not looking at me. ¡°They talked amongst themselves. They ¡ª they accused you of giving yourself to the Apprentices gladly, because I was incapable.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the most preposterous thing I¡¯ve ever heard!¡±


    Tony sounded defensive. ¡°They did say it, Jacqui.¡±


    A laugh burst from me in spite of the chaos inside. ¡°First, you are capable, and you know it. Second, I have no desire for Apprentices. Third, in case they had some mad desire for me, the Inventor paid me escort the entire time. Why care so much about what some silly women say?¡±


    Why did you have to kill them?


    Tony spoke slowly. ¡°They swore allegiance to the Spadros Family, Jacqui. I stood outside the kitchen window on a public street and heard them. To speak against us in public is betrayal.¡±


    And betraying the Family meant death. I nodded, overwhelmed by grief. ¡°Thank you for telling me.¡±


    ¡°Jacqui ¡ª¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m going to my rooms now.¡±


    Poignee spoke whatever words came into her head, usually biting ones. Treysa and Ottilie went along with anything Poignee said, especially Ottilie, who was younger.


    They never understood the danger.


    * * *


    I ate dinner in my room, with little appetite. And I couldn¡¯t sleep. If the men attacked Madame Biltcliffe, who else was next?


    Vig Vikenti helped me numerous times, the most recent being the night I found Marja dead outside his saloon. If something happened to him because of me, I could never forgive myself.


    When Tony slept, I put on my robe and went to the door.


    Blitz Spadros patrolled the hall, and I waited for the glow of his candle to approach. Besides being our footman, Blitz played piano at Vig¡¯s saloon. ¡°Mrs. Spadros, how may I help you?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure you know what¡¯s befallen Madame Biltcliffe ¡ª¡±


    Blitz shook his head.


    ¡°She¡¯s been beaten for helping me, and I find myself fearful. Is Vig Vikenti well?¡±


    Blitz glanced away, let out a breath. ¡°Vig was supposed to report his dealings with you to Mr. Roy, but he didn¡¯t.¡±


    Fear struck me. ¡°What happened? Is he ¡ª¡±


    ¡°Dead? No. They broke his nose, destroyed his saloon, but he¡¯s alive.¡± Blitz rubbed the back of his neck. ¡°Angry. But he knew the consequences for breaking the rule.¡±


    ¡°What rule?¡±


    ¡°You live in Spadros, you report to Mr. Roy. It¡¯s the only rule, besides paying fees. Didn¡¯t you know?¡±


    Was everyone in Spadros reporting my whereabouts to Roy?


    Three of Tony¡¯s men were there that night. Sawbuck was Molly¡¯s nephew and should be safe enough. It seemed Morton got out of Spadros Manor just in time. ¡°What¡¯ll happen to you?¡±


    ¡°Me? I don¡¯t know.¡± He grinned, and when he did, he reminded me of Tony. ¡°You can¡¯t care about such things when you align yourself against a man like him.¡±


    My loyalty is to the Spadros Family.


    To the Spadros Family. Not Roy.


    ¡°Why did you do that?¡±


    He glanced away. ¡°Spadros quadrant deserves better. Bridges has a brutal, bloody past, but we also have a good and noble one.¡±


    ¡°A secret Royalist, then?¡±


    Blitz snorted. ¡°You don¡¯t need a king to live in peace. People want someone to lead them. But they want to take pride in their leader and be motivated by goodwill, not fear.¡±


    What happened to Vig would make him hate the Spadros Family even more than he already did. ¡°Is there a way to help?¡±


    ¡°Vig? Best way to help is to stay away for a bit. I¡¯ll let him know you asked.¡±


    The way Blitz smiled just then ... Vig¡¯s misery when he thought I was using him ...


    I sighed. Vig found me attractive, even desirable: many men did. But since the night he rescued me, I feared this might happen. ¡°Tell him I¡¯m sorry. I never meant to hurt him. Tell him ... I remain his true and grateful friend. Say it just like that.¡±


    Blitz nodded. ¡°I will.¡± He bowed. ¡°Good night, Mrs. Spadros.¡±


    * * *


    I closed the door, leaned against it. Tony lay asleep.


    They broke Vig¡¯s nose? Destroyed his saloon?


    I stalked to the bed, threw the covers off Tony. ¡°You promised my friends wouldn¡¯t be hurt!¡±


    Tony turned towards me. ¡°What? Jacqui, what¡¯s wrong?¡±


    ¡°You promised none of my friends would be hurt if I told you about my business. You lied!¡±


    Tony held up his hand. ¡°Jacqui, wait ¡ª what happened?¡±


    ¡°Madame had bruises all over her arms. Your men beat her!¡±


    Tony shook his head. ¡°I never told them to do that. Blitz!¡±


    Blitz entered, stood before us. ¡°Yes, sir?¡±


    ¡°Who¡¯s responsible for hurting her friend?¡±


    Blitz glanced away. ¡°Your father¡¯s men. I told them not to do it, but they beat the man within a ¡ª¡±


    Tony said, ¡°Man? What man?¡±


    I brought my hands to my mouth, horrified. I never told Tony about Vig. What was Blitz doing?


    Blitz looked between me and Tony. ¡°Were you not speaking of ¡ª¡± He frowned. ¡°Who did you mean?¡±


    Tony grabbed Blitz by the collar. ¡°What man?¡±


    Blitz glanced at me, afraid, then back at Tony. ¡°The saloon owner Vig Vikenti. Wasn¡¯t that who you meant?¡±


    I put my hand on Tony¡¯s arm. ¡°One of my contacts, Tony. A friend, nothing more. Vig saved my life more than once.¡±


    Tony let his arms drop to his sides. ¡°My wife was in a ¡ª a saloon ¡ª and you never told me?¡±


    ¡°No, sir.¡±


    ¡°Tony,¡± I said, ¡°it was the ¡ª¡±


    Tony punched Blitz in the face, knocking him to the floor. ¡°What the hell do I have you guarding my wife for?¡±


    I grabbed his arm. ¡°Tony, stop! It was when Marja was shot.¡±


    Tony turned to me. ¡°Why were you there? How long have you known this man?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Since I was sixteen. Tony, I asked Blitz and Ten not to say anything. You were so upset all the time, and ¡ª¡±


    Tony growled, flinging my hand off his arm. ¡°Everything you do makes my problems worse.¡± He confronted Blitz, who still lay on the floor. ¡°How long have you known about this?¡±


    Blitz sat up, giving Tony a wary look. Blood lay on his lip. ¡°It was the night you were out late. In February.¡±


    I glanced at Tony. Some message had passed between them. ¡°As I said, it was the night my friend Marja was shot. Ten and Master Rainbow were there too. They followed me.¡±


    ¡°Who saw you there? What else haven¡¯t you told me?¡±


    I sat, telling the story: disguising myself, arriving at Vig¡¯s saloon, talking with his mother. I said, ¡°Blitz, is his mother well?¡±


    Blitz shook his head. ¡°She¡¯s dead, mum. The doctor said it was her heart. The strain of all those men destroying her home ¡ª¡±


    I leapt to my feet. ¡°Gods damn you to Hell! This is what Vig gets for helping me? Get out, both of you.¡±


    Tony pulled Blitz to his feet then turned to me. ¡°Jacqui, we didn¡¯t hurt your friends.¡±


    ¡°You promised my friends wouldn¡¯t be harmed. Nonetheless, two are beaten, and another is dead. So you have no power to promise anything.¡±


    Tony didn¡¯t meet my eye.


    ¡°Get out,¡± I told Tony. ¡°I don¡¯t want to see you.¡±


    After Tony and Blitz left, I locked the doors, then got my cigarettes, a glass, and a bottle of bourbon, then sat in bed.


    Vig¡¯s mother helped me since I was sixteen.


    How could she be dead?

 Chapter 3: The Ace of Clubs - Round 15: The Game

    The next morning, I felt weary and my head hurt. To my surprise, a letter came from ¡°Eunice Ogier,¡± but was actually from Thrace Pike about ¡°the information you requested.¡± The letter was addressed from a residence on Market Center. His home?


    At breakfast, Tony¡¯s knuckles were torn and bruised, yet unwashed, unbandaged.


    If he wanted his hand to fester, that was not my concern.


    The whole house must have heard the argument, but no one said anything. At breakfast, Tony said, ¡°Jacqui, I had nothing to do with your friend being hurt. But you said two of your friends were beaten. Who was the other?¡±


    He truly didn¡¯t know? ¡°Madame Biltcliffe.¡±


    ¡°I gave orders for her to be left alone! I¡¯m going to get to the bottom of this.¡± He left his breakfast half-eaten and stormed out.


    So I ran morning meeting alone, then wrote to Mr. Pike with a time and place to meet.


    When I called Pearson in to give him the letter, he said, ¡°I¡¯ve learned more about the facility you were interested in.¡±


    I gestured to the armchair across my desk. ¡°Please sit.¡±


    He glanced at it. ¡°I¡¯d prefer to stand, mum.¡±


    He rarely ever sat in my presence since I¡¯d known him. ¡°Very well. What have you learned?¡±


    ¡°The facility¡¯s managed by a man named Shigo Rei. It employs 78 workers in three shifts, mostly menial laborers.¡± He shrugged. ¡°There¡¯s nothing unusual about it.¡±


    ¡°Are all produce distribution centers owned by the Clubbs?¡±


    ¡°The ones they deliver to. This one handles grain.¡±


    What an excellent way to learn about a quadrant! The Clubbs were sly indeed. ¡°Thank you, Pearson, that¡¯ll be all.¡±


    I wrote to my contacts asking them to learn more about this Shigo Rei. A strange name, but Josie did say he changed it to hide the fact he was a Kerr.


    That he changed his name didn¡¯t surprise me. After the Coup, the traitor Xavier Alcatraz hunted down the Kerrs, placing their heads upon spikes at Market Center. What fierce hatred he must have had for them! How did any of Joe¡¯s family survive?


    * * *


    During luncheon, Tony said, ¡°The men assigned to Madame Biltcliffe¡¯s street deny hurting her.¡±


    ¡°She said they were new men, wearing Spadros livery.¡±


    Tony frowned. ¡°Spadros livery?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°They told her she had to pay double or they¡¯d beat her again.¡±


    Tony gestured to Pearson. ¡°You hear that?¡±


    Pearson nodded.


    ¡°Make sure it¡¯s taken care of.¡±


    I felt confused. ¡°Make sure what¡¯s taken care of?¡±


    ¡°Jacqui, our men only wear livery on specific occasions. Someone¡¯s impersonating us.¡±


    It dawned on me. ¡°The black cloth!¡±


    Tony stared at me down the length of the table, mouth open. Then he put his hand to his forehead. ¡°First they steal our money, then they threaten and beat our merchants, then they ruin our name.¡± He dropped his hand to the table. ¡°What do they want from us?¡±


    * * *


    After luncheon, we went to Spadros Castle.


    Spadros Castle wasn¡¯t one, any more than Spadros Manor was a manor. But that never stopped Roy from building it. A fortress, rather than a home with any artistic appeal.


    I shivered as I entered. Although the damp chill of the dim entryway might have caused my reaction, I doubt it.


    The servants, ancient and bowed, never spoke as they ushered us down pale gray halls. The parlor windows let in the gray light of a cloudy afternoon. Although Roy built Spadros Castle five years ago, it felt old, from the furniture to the decor.


    This cold room matched Roy Spadros so well. Did Molly roam these pale halls with her silent servants?


    Tony and I stood before the unlit fireplace. A portrait of Tony¡¯s little sister Katherine hung above it, three feet wide and four feet high.


    ¡°Astonishing,¡± I said. ¡°I didn¡¯t know photographs were ever made this big.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not photography,¡± a woman¡¯s voice said.


    Molly Hogan Spadros, a beautiful raven-haired woman of nine and forty, gave me a warm smile when she caught my eye. ¡°Hello, Jacqui.¡± She clasped my hand, her long red sleeves brushing against my fingers. ¡°So wonderful to see you.¡±


    She kissed Tony on the cheek then pointed at the picture. ¡°Roy drew that from memory.¡±


    Katherine¡¯s picture hanging there was beyond dispute; the pencil-marks showed plainly. This man had vast talent: why had he squandered it in violence?


    Roy entered the room, thirteen year old Katherine Spadros bounding in behind him. ¡°Jacqui!¡± She hugged me around my waist, her auburn curls atop my corset. ¡°I¡¯m so happy to see you!¡±


    I wrapped my arms round her, kissed her hair. ¡°And I you.¡±


    ¡°Hi, Tony!¡± She hugged him. ¡°Can we play croquet? Please?¡±


    Tony smiled. ¡°Ask Mama, not me.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps after we finish here,¡± Molly said.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    ¡°Aww.¡±


    Molly frowned. ¡°If you behave, Katie, and do as you¡¯re told.¡±


    Roy Spadros stood motionless, blue-ice eyes staring out from a pale, expressionless face. He wore a wool jacket and pants the color of midnight in winter, and a white vest with a texture which reminded me of fallen snow.


    I expected rage at my defying his orders, guilt or evasiveness about having his men attack my friend.


    But all he said was, ¡°We¡¯ll go to the garden.¡±


    Katie skipped up to her father, chattering away.


    Molly took Tony¡¯s left arm, I his right, and we strolled after them. ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re feeling better, Jacqui,¡± Molly said. ¡°We¡¯ve worried for you.¡±


    I hadn¡¯t been ill; I simply had nothing to say. So far, speaking hadn''t made things better.


    Their veranda was the same as our own, down to the shade of pale gray. In place of gardens, sheep grazed an expanse of lawn; an ancient man leaning on a cane herded them away from a target range as we approached. Roy¡¯s men stood watching for intruders.


    We strolled along the grassy field. To our right, a white wrought-iron table and six matching chairs sat under a lawn umbrella, a croquet set neatly stacked on the ground beside it. We sat around the table.


    Roy glanced at Tony¡¯s bruised hand. ¡°Brawling, I take it?¡±


    Tony frowned. ¡°Where¡¯s the letter?¡±


    Roy didn¡¯t smile often, but he did then. ¡°To the point. I approve.¡± He gestured to a maid; she handed him an envelope, which he put in his pocket. ¡°Let¡¯s have tea. Converse. We are family, after all.¡±


    Katherine said, ¡°Daddy, I don¡¯t want tea. Can I go play?¡±


    ¡°Certainly,¡± Roy said.


    She ran across the field, arms spread wide, and headed for the sheep, scattering them. A maid brought a tea-tray, set it before us, then began to pour.


    ¡°What do you want from us?¡± Tony said. ¡°You have us here. What game are you playing now?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s been a while since I played a game,¡± Roy said. ¡°An excellent idea.¡± He sipped his tea. ¡°If you want the letter, you two can play. Whoever wins may not show it to the other one.¡±


    Molly looked confused.


    I frowned. ¡°What sort of nonsense is that?¡±


    Tony shook his head, chuckling. ¡°Let him have his fun.¡±


    Roy looked at Tony sideways. ¡°Well, then. You can go first.¡± He pointed towards the target range. A new paper had been laid upon the target. ¡°Shoot six rounds.¡±


    Tony glanced at me, his face pale. He didn¡¯t like to shoot. He wasn¡¯t good at it. He never practiced. He hated loud noises. And I think he just realized what I told him earlier: I could shoot too.


    All of Roy¡¯s men stood watching.


    Roy planned to humiliate Tony in front of his men.


    I smiled at Tony. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll do fine.¡±


    Tony stood with trembling hands and took out his revolver. ¡°Very well.¡± He walked the twenty yards to the range, lifted the gun, pulled back the hammer, and I could see how nervous he was by his stance. He fired and missed.


    Roy stood up, faced him. ¡°Again!¡±


    Tony took a deep breath, fired, and missed.


    ¡°You¡¯re heir to the Spadros Family!¡± Roy took a step towards Tony. ¡°Again!¡±


    Tony fired, hands shaking, and missed.


    Roy stalked over to Tony and bellowed, ¡°Again!¡±


    Tony fired, and it wasn¡¯t even close.


    ¡°What''re you going to do when I¡¯m not here to protect you?¡±


    I rose. ¡°Stop it!¡±


    Roy said something in a language I didn¡¯t understand.


    Tony¡¯s face went white: he fired and missed even worse.


    I ran to Roy. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with you? Do you want your men to hate him?¡±


    Roy yelled, ¡°Again!¡±


    Tony fired, and it clipped the side of the target. ¡°There,¡± Tony said, voice trembling. He threw his gun on the grass. ¡°Satisfied?¡±


    I grabbed Roy¡¯s arm. ¡°Leave him alone.¡±


    Clicks from all directions. Every gun that every one of Roy¡¯s men held now pointed at me.


    I put my hands up, backed away. Tony rushed to my side.


    Roy waved to the men; they returned to whatever they were supposed to be watching. ¡°Temper, my dear ... you always did let your emotions run away with you.¡±


    ¡°You had your fun,¡± Tony said, his voice shaking. ¡°Give us the letter and let us go.¡±


    ¡°But Jacqui gets to play, too,¡± Roy said. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t be fair otherwise.¡±


    Tony turned to me, whispering, ¡°You don¡¯t have to do this. We can get the information some other way.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t see how.¡± I let out a breath. ¡°I don¡¯t think he means to hurt us.¡±


    Tony held both my hands, closed his eyes for a moment. ¡°Just do your best.¡±


    ¡°How touching,¡± Roy said.


    The chairs had been moved to the side and an open box of ammunition lay on the table. Roy took his revolver from his belt and handed it to me. ¡°You asked about shooting a moving target.¡±


    Tony glanced at him in disbelief.


    Why would Roy hand me his weapon after what just happened? ¡°What?¡±


    I ducked away as Roy¡¯s hand lashed out. ¡°Go!¡±


    I ran, only a second later grasping what he meant over Tony¡¯s outraged shouts. I angled towards the target, raised Roy¡¯s heavy revolver in both hands, and fired. I didn¡¯t do as well as I hoped, but in all my years of practice, I have never missed a target.


    Roy¡¯s men held Tony, who struggled, shouting at us both. Roy walked to the croquet set, picked up a ball, and threw it at me. ¡°Run!¡±


    The ball narrowly missed my leg, pulling at my dress as it passed. I fired again, doing better.


    ¡°Now back towards me!¡± Roy reached down for another ball.


    I had to watch him, watch the target, watch for Tony, who flailed mightily, and avoid tripping on my dress.


    ¡°Shoot!¡±


    The ball glanced off my corset, knocking the air from me; I hit the paper¡¯s edge. Tony screamed at Roy, but I barely heard him.


    ¡°Shoot, damn you!¡±


    I shot, with better aim this time.


    ¡°Back up!¡±


    Back and forth, at angles, reloading as I ran, grabbing ammunition from the table as I dodged his blows. After the heavy croquet balls were gone Roy threw mallets, hoops, and might have thrown the chairs if I displeased him. But he nodded: the session was over.


    I ached all over. ¡°This is more difficult than I thought.¡±


    Roy grasped my face in his thick hands, but this time his touch was gentle. ¡°You¡¯ve done well.¡± Then his eyes narrowed. ¡°Don¡¯t defy me again.¡±


    I stood there, stunned, as he walked away. Roy seldom gave praise, and had never praised me for anything without comparing me to someone who did better. ¡°Wait.¡± I stalked over to him. ¡°You sick bastard. I want my damn letter.¡±


    He snorted, handing it over. ¡°I mean it. Don¡¯t show it to him. I¡¯ll know if you do.¡±


    What could possibly be in there? ¡°I thought you¡¯d be angry.¡±


    ¡°Why should I harm you?¡± He gave a small smile. ¡°You¡¯re destroying yourself better than I ever could.¡±


    What the hell did Roy mean by that?


    Tony ran to me. ¡°Are you hurt?¡±


    I shook my head, putting the letter in my pocket. ¡°Tired,¡± I panted, ¡°probably in need of a bath. But unharmed.¡±


    Tony turned to Roy. ¡°I meant what I said. We¡¯re done. I¡¯m through with you.¡±


    Across the field, Katie stood watching.


    Suddenly, Molly stood behind Roy. ¡°Katie, do you still want to play?¡±


    ¡°Here I come,¡± Katie said, running up. She stepped between myself and Roy and faced him. ¡°Daddy, if I argue, will you have men point guns at me too?¡±


    Roy¡¯s face softened as he leaned over. ¡°You¡¯re my very own darling girl. I¡¯ll never let anyone harm you.¡±


    Molly looked as if she might be sick.


    Tony grabbed my arm. ¡°You play your games then.¡±


    ¡°Bye, Tony,¡± Katie said in a plaintive voice.


    Tony never looked back.


    In the carriage, Tony sat, his face turned away.


    I said, ¡°What do we do now?¡±


    ¡°Were you taunting me?¡±


    I peered at him. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Were you taunting me, back in February, when you asked me to teach you to shoot?¡±


    ¡°No! I wanted to learn to shoot better. I didn¡¯t dare go to your father after you denounced him. Yet I should have killed Frank Pagliacci. I thought maybe you ¡ª¡±


    ¡°That I could teach you something, anything you didn¡¯t already know?¡± He let out a bitter laugh. ¡°All this time, I thought I was keeping you from the harsh edges of this terrible world. Instead, I find you¡¯re well in the thick of it!¡± He ran his hand through his hair. ¡°It¡¯s as if I don¡¯t know you.¡±


    I¡¯ve humiliated him yet again. ¡°It¡¯s not that, Tony.¡±


    He didn¡¯t speak for several seconds, and when he did, he sounded weary. ¡°What am I supposed to think? You shoot better than I ever could. The staff loves you. The people love you. You¡¯ve got my own cousins hiding things from me. Do you want the Family, Jacqui? Is that what this is about?¡±


    ¡°Are you mad? All any of us want is for you to be happy.¡± I moved to sit beside him in the carriage. ¡°My fondest wish is for us both to be happy.¡±


    Well, my second fondest, but it was good enough.


    I kissed his poor bruised hand. ¡°But you¡¯re not happy. Your eyes are full of fear and guilt. You have nightmares, and you still don¡¯t eat enough.¡± Whatever bothered him had something to do with Gardena Diamond, but I didn¡¯t know what. ¡°Something¡¯s terribly wrong, I can feel it, yet I don¡¯t know how to help you.¡±


    He put his arm round me. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Jacqui.¡± He kissed my forehead. ¡°I don¡¯t know how to help me either.¡±

 Chapter 3: The Ace of Clubs - Round 16: The Intent

    We sat like this for some time, then I asked, ¡°What did your father say when you were shooting?¡±


    Tony and Roy ¡ª and sometimes Molly ¡ª spoke this other language from time to time, but never before when they thought I might hear.


    Tony hesitated. ¡°He told me, ¡®What will you do when it¡¯s time to protect her? Let her die?¡¯¡±


    I recalled Tony¡¯s nightmare a few months back of me lying cold and still.


    ¡°He¡¯s trying to cause me harm and upset in any way he can.¡± Tony leaned his elbows on his knees, his face in his hands. ¡°If I didn¡¯t know better, I¡¯d say he tried to drive me mad.¡±


    That seemed unlikely ¡ª but it wouldn¡¯t help to say so. ¡°What language do you and your parents speak?¡±


    This seemed to cheer Tony somewhat. ¡°Italian. We¡¯ve spoken it as long as I can remember.¡±


    ¡°Did your family not teach you Italian?¡±


    My cheeks burned. ¡°I was born in the Spadros Pot, Gardena. I said so at our dinner.¡±


    She blushed. ¡°Forgive me. I meant the Spadros Family.¡±


    Gardena¡¯s comment back in February now made sense. Why would they not teach me?


    Ah. For the same reason I didn¡¯t teach Kouri-Vini to Tony. Or why Zia used hand signs with Morton. In case you might be false.


    I smiled, thinking of all the secrets held behind spoken walls.


    Tony smiled back, and I wondered at his and Gardena¡¯s secret. ¡°Gardena told me her family speaks Italian as well.¡±


    Tony gave a short fond laugh. ¡°Her mother knows many languages.¡± His face sobered. ¡°Or at least, she used to. But Mrs. Diamond had a passion for pre-Catastrophe cultures, and a notable one was based in Italy.


    ¡°I¡¯ve never been there, but she and Gardena went for a whole year when Gardena was fourteen.¡± He paused, as if in thought. ¡°Or maybe fifteen. I think it was to get her away from the war between our Families.¡±


    This made sense. My mother kept me inside that long year, as men fought and died. I was glad to stay inside, mourn Air¡¯s death. And avoid Roy¡¯s men.


    The air smelled of morning as I sat playing jacks near the open doorway. Golden light slanted in, tiny motes of dust dancing in it. Snores filled the air.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Hands grabbed me from behind, and I screamed in terror.


    My eyes stung at the sudden memory.


    Tony put his face in his hands. He sounded defeated, ashamed. ¡°Which of course, you know of much better than I.¡±


    I moved across from him, took a deep breath, let it out. ¡°It¡¯s of no consequence.¡±


    Tony said nothing. But then, he didn¡¯t need to say anything. There was nothing he could say.


    He couldn¡¯t protect me from what I¡¯d already seen and done.


    I opened the letter. It was written in a woman¡¯s hand, different from all those I had seen so far:


    I will take everything you hold dear, spawn of Spadros: your home, your wife, your family, your bastard heir. Even now your brother lies beaten by my men. I can strike you anywhere, at any time, and it will never stop until I¡¯ve destroyed you.


    Brother?


    I remembered Dr. Salmon¡¯s tale of Acevedo Spadros II, Roy¡¯s father, his liaison with Tony¡¯s mother Molly, and their plan for her to marry Roy.


    I suppose they felt it a good way to move her into the house, to have their affair in front of Mr. Acevedo¡¯s wife without anyone knowing.


    I stared at Tony in shock.


    Roy was not Tony¡¯s father at all.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Tony said. ¡°What does it say?¡±


    Don¡¯t tell him. I¡¯ll know if you do.


    I shook my head. Tony adored the man he thought to be his grandfather. In the Pot, nobody cared who sired a child, but here, it seemed vital. ¡°Believe me: you don¡¯t want to read this.¡±


    Tony let out a bitter laugh. ¡°And my father knew you would read it.¡±


    What will Roy do to Molly? ¡°Oh, gods.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°They mean to destroy your mother, too.¡±


    Fear overwhelmed me: I almost had the carriage turn round. Yet I realized that Roy had this letter for months now. If he meant to harm Molly, he had many chances to do so.


    He must have already known of her betrayal.


    I crumpled the message, shoved it in my pocket, and put my face in my hands. ¡°You asked what they want. Now I know. They mean harm to everyone, down to your lowest servants. They mean to utterly destroy the Spadros Family.¡±


    Yet a young black-haired woman sent this. Birdie?


    That must be one trusted secretary. A female secretary was unusual enough, but the woman must be part of their inmost circle to be allowed this kind of information.


    Tony said, ¡°I want nothing more than to read this letter. Yet I fear to do so.¡±


    ¡°He told me he would know if you read it. I believe he would.¡± What would Tony do if he learned what his mother had done? This could destroy their relationship. ¡°I wish I never had. This is not something you want to see.¡±


    Tony shuddered. ¡°I remember the false note my father got, supposedly from me, and the things it contained. You¡¯re right; I wish to see no more.¡± He kissed my hands, gripping them tightly. ¡°Why would my father let you read such filth?¡±


    I shrugged. Why indeed. He could have refused to let me read the letter even after I won his little game. ¡°Who knows why Roy Spadros does what he does?¡±


    Tony leaned his elbow on the base of the carriage-window and looked away, hand to his chin. ¡°I meant what I said. I want nothing more to do with him.¡±


    The carriage arrived at Spadros Manor, and we returned to our rooms to change into house clothes. I locked the letter in my drawer before I did anything else, but Morton¡¯s warning loomed ever-present in my mind. I had a safer place for this letter, once Amelia was off on an errand.


    This letter gave me great pause. The person who wrote this knew the Spadros Family¡¯s most intimate secrets: Amelia¡¯s violation, Molly¡¯s affair. Yet instead of making these things public, they taunted Roy with the knowledge.


    Who would feel safe enough ¡ª or was mad enough ¡ª to taunt Roy Spadros?

 Chapter 3: The Ace of Clubs - Round 17: The Launch

    After luncheon the next day, we set off for the yacht launch in a stony silence. Tony hadn¡¯t spoken to me since returning to the Manor, and I wondered how long he meant to continue.


    I wasn¡¯t looking forward to this event. Tony never told me why he feared going, which worried me no end. And since this was the first time I¡¯d been to any event by the Clubbs since last I saw Nina ... I had no idea what to expect.


    Armed outriders came with us, but more this time, as we traveled north, crossing the ¡°betters¡¯ bridge¡± to Clubb quadrant.


    Sandstone cobbles paved Clubb quadrant streets in front of golden-brown buildings trimmed in oak and brass. When we reached the main street out to the countryside, we turned left, towards quadrant center.


    Outsiders, strangely dressed, even women wearing trousers! Some had oddly cut hair in unnatural colors. Exotic dogs, brass follow-carts piled with parcels, or silver-toned mechanical men accompanied them, clanking and hissing as they went.


    Our carriage turned right, towards the marina. The streets teemed with delivery trucks and golden-haired pedestrians. Clubb Family carriages in brass-trimmed oak pulled by gold champagne horses wearing brown and golden tack choked the streets. We turned right, then left ¡ª after our outriders stopped traffic ¡ª into an enormous entryway. Golden roses filled the central area as our carriage rounded it.


    To our right stood the boathouse, a large edifice of sandstone and oak. A golden carpet led up to an oak-stained stair with brass banisters, then a large set of glass-paneled oak doors. Men in golden-brown Clubb livery opened the doors as we approached.


    Inside, panels explaining the history of Bridges¡¯ waterways lined the walls. Mock-ups of champion boats stood behind glass. A large historical craft hung from the high oak rafters.


    Alexander and Regina Clubb came across the wide hall to greet us. Both golden-haired and (at minimum) in their seventies, they appeared ¡ª and moved ¡ª as a couple twenty years younger.


    Mrs. Clubb grabbed me by the arms, towering over me. ¡°I¡¯ll not have my Nina become a woman-lover, especially with a Pot rag.¡±


    The memory stopped me; Tony moved past me to greet them.


    ¡°Welcome,¡± Mr. Clubb said, and shook Tony¡¯s hand.


    Tony wore his public face. ¡°A pleasure to see you.¡±


    Mr. Clubb took my hand in his and kissed it, the metal of his mechanical left hand buffeted by the gloves we wore.


    I stared at it in amazement: I would never be able to tell it was anything but real by its movements.


    Mr. Clubb smiled. ¡°So happy to see you again.¡±


    The man was handsome, even if he was terribly old. How did he manage to look so well? ¡°And I you.¡±


    Tony kissed Mrs. Clubb¡¯s hand, then she took mine.


    For a moment, I felt disoriented: we were the same height now. She seemed so terrifying before.


    But today, she smiled. ¡°I¡¯m so glad you could attend.¡± She retraced her steps, still holding my hand. ¡°I can¡¯t wait for you to see our new yacht.¡±


    I fought the urge to snatch my hand back. Why was I remembering these things, having these feelings, now? ¡°The Ace of Clubbs. What does this signify?¡±


    Mrs. Clubb glanced away with an ironic, amused laugh. ¡°Our beloved son, of course.¡±


    His name, Lancelot, derived from the Holy Cards, a Jack variation. Shouldn¡¯t he be the Jack of Clubbs? And if they intended to give Lance this honor ¡ª the highest and lowest of them all ¡ª why not name him Ace? As old as Alexander and Regina Clubb were, did they expect more children? But ... he was the youngest. And their heir. ¡°You must love him very much.¡±


    She smiled, color rising in her cheeks. ¡°We do.¡±


    Attendants in Clubb livery opened the doors onto a wide dock of polished oak where a party lay spread: food, drink, musicians, and well-dressed people from all four quadrants.


    To my relief, Regina Clubb let go of my hand. ¡°Enjoy,¡± she said, disappearing into the crowd.


    My eye immediately went to Jonathan Diamond. He said a word to his companions, raised his water glass, and came to us.


    Tony said, ¡°I didn¡¯t know you got an invite to this shindig.¡±


    Jon laughed. ¡°We¡¯re all here, it seems.¡± He pointed to a very pale Helen Hart, who sat under an awning with her Inventor husband Etienne, a dumpy auburn-haired man in his fifties wearing his odd spectacles. As usual, he had his nose in a book. Helen, dressed in black, sipped her tea in silence.


    Surely Jon¡¯s twin Jack didn¡¯t attend. Heart pounding, I took Tony¡¯s arm and said to Jon, ¡°Who else is here?¡±


    Jon glanced over my shoulder. ¡°Turn round and you¡¯ll see.¡±


    So we did. ¡°Gardena!¡± Relieved, I hugged Jon¡¯s younger sister. ¡°I¡¯m so glad to see you.¡±


    Gardena Diamond¡¯s raven curls were up-swept under a black hat with navy blue feathers in it, matching her navy blue gown. Jon wore a cravat matching his sister¡¯s dress, pinned with the symbol of his Family in white.


    ¡°Miss Diamond,¡± Tony said in a flat voice.


    Gardena didn¡¯t smile or meet Tony¡¯s eye. ¡°Mr. Spadros.¡±


    Oh, dear. Whatever went on between them at Queen¡¯s Day dinner ... had not been resolved in the slightest.


    A stern voice said, ¡°There you are.¡± Cesare Diamond, a man in his early thirties, gripped his sister¡¯s arm. ¡°Your presence is requested.¡± He ignored us as he yanked Gardena aside.


    ¡°That man infuriates me,¡± Tony said.


    Jon laughed. ¡°He generally has that effect.¡±


    Tony twitched. Evidently, he had forgotten Jon stood so close by. ¡°My apologies.¡± Tony let out a breath. ¡°Your brother delights in displaying his disdain for my wife and I.¡± He glanced over. Cesare lectured his sister, who didn¡¯t appear to be taking it well. ¡°Not to mention everyone else.¡±


    I took Jon¡¯s arm. ¡°When will the launching take place?¡±


    ¡°Oh, any time, I¡¯d think, now that we¡¯re all here,¡± Jon said.


    Regina Clubb proceeded out, followed by eight of her daughters. They wore the same navy blue dresses as their mother, had the same golden hair, thin faces, and haughty demeanor. Mrs. Clubb spoke on a megaphone. ¡°Welcome to the launch of our newest craft, the Ace of Clubbs!¡±


    Applause followed. Jon flushed, appearing embarrassed; Tony¡¯s jaw clenched.


    ¡°Our daughter, Apprentice of the Dealers Kitty Clubb, is here to offer the blessing.¡±


    Surprised murmurs rose as Kitty Clubb strode forward, dressed in a pale green robe with a white scarf of the same material which completely covered her hair. Everyone rose ¡ª Helen Hart, with help ¡ª and bowed or curtsied.


    ¡°So she did join the Dealers,¡± Jon said. ¡°How remarkable.¡±


    Kitty raised her hand. ¡°We thank the Floorman for the bounty provided to create this vessel. May the Dealer richly bless those it carries, bringing them safely through the rounds to come.¡± She lowered her hand, and everyone murmured, ¡°So be it.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Blessed Apprentice,¡± Regina Clubb said. ¡°Launching the yacht is our son and heir, Master Lancelot Clubb.¡±


    A man of three and twenty with thick straight golden hair, Lance Clubb hesitated, then stepped forward. He grasped the champagne bottle, tied to a boom which jutted a foot from the grand yacht¡¯s deck, and launched it at the side of the craft.


    The bottle struck full on, yet did not break.


    Everyone laughed; Lance turned bright red.


    ¡°No matter,¡± Mrs. Clubb said. ¡°Let¡¯s try this again.¡±


    Men scrambled to retrieve the bottle.


    Arms held high, Lance flung the bottle towards the yacht as if it offended him and it broke, spraying champagne over the dock. We cheered, and he turned towards us with a sheepish grin.


    ¡°I could almost like the man,¡± Tony murmured.


    ¡°What?¡±


    Tony seemed startled. ¡°Nothing. My pardons.¡±


    Why would Tony dislike Lance? Even though the man was a year our senior, he had something of a young child about him, as if he hadn¡¯t yet matured. I found it endearing.


    Mrs. Clubb said, ¡°Please accompany us on the Ace of Clubbs for its maiden voyage.¡± We followed up the wide gangplank past photographers and reporters barred by a pair of golden ribbons.


    The Ace of Clubbs, although vastly larger in size, reminded me of Morton¡¯s craft the Finesse, now in pieces at the bottom of the river: white with an oak interior. The Ace of Clubbs had immense golden sails with the Clubb symbol embroidered in golden-brown. Brass railings and gold bunting adorned the sides.


    Men untied golden lines. The yacht cast off, moving out of the marina. The day was cloudy yet calm. A perfect day for sailing.


    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    ¡°I rather like boats,¡± I said.


    Tony gazed at me with a curious expression, then nodded. ¡°I¡¯m not so fond of them, but the company is diverting.¡±


    Did Tony just flirt? He rarely did so, usually when intoxicated. But he had nothing to drink today, so far as I¡¯d seen.


    Jon laughed from behind us. ¡°Indeed.¡±


    Tony¡¯s face reddened. ¡°You must come forth, sir, or begone.¡±


    Jon moved in front of us and bowed. ¡°My apologies.¡±


    ¡°You two are incorrigible,¡± I said. ¡°We must have other conversation than upon my few virtues.¡±


    ¡°Never mock yourself,¡± Jon said. ¡°You are the most glorious lady present.¡±


    Music began from inside, to the aft.


    ¡°Would you like some drinks?¡± Jon said. He gave a quick glance over my shoulder: Gardena stood some six paces back.


    ¡°Nothing for me,¡± I said, ¡°unless you wish to bring something when you return.¡±


    Tony followed our glances. ¡°I¡¯ll accompany you.¡± The two disappeared below.


    Gardena came to meet me, suddenly pensive. ¡°I wanted to thank you for your kind welcome. I fear your husband wishes me gone.¡± She paused, her head downcast. ¡°I don¡¯t blame him: it was wrong to strike him, to say what I did that night. I regret it all.¡±


    I took her white-gloved hands. ¡°It would help, I think, if you told him these things. He has high regard for you, and your disagreements wound him.¡±


    She turned to lean upon the rails. ¡°I know. I wish things had occurred differently.¡± A glossy black curl fell beside her dark brown cheek. ¡°I think we all feel that way at times.¡±


    Well, I certainly did. I wasn¡¯t sure how to make things right between these two, but a plan was forming in my mind as far as my situation. ¡°There are always things which can be done, Dena. It just takes the strength and courage to act.¡±


    ¡°If I act, people are hurt. They may die. If I don¡¯t act, people are hurt, but different ones. All people I care for. No matter what I do, I feel as if I am betraying someone.¡± She shook her head. ¡°You of all people deserve better.¡±


    I had no idea what she meant, but she seemed in such distress that I dared not ask. ¡°Is there a way I can help?¡±


    Gardena smiled a fake smile, then her eyes reddened. ¡°Just be my friend, Jacqui, for as long as you can.¡±


    The navy blue dress Gardena wore was the same one I borrowed the day we met to catch her blackmailer. ¡°You and Lance dressed alike. Was that coincidence?¡±


    Gardena smiled fondly. ¡°His mother. She wishes the city to become accustomed to the idea of us together, before ¡ª¡±


    I recalled Marja¡¯s note: They plan to kill your Ma too.


    ¡°Jacqui,¡± Gardena said, ¡°what is it?¡±


    ¡°A sudden fear came upon me.¡± I told her about Marja: who she was, what she meant to me. I told her about Marja¡¯s note warning me of a plot to kill my mother. ¡°That was how I knew I must get my mother out of the city.¡±


    Gardena¡¯s eyes filled with tears. ¡°We sent her to her doom! Oh, Jacqui, I¡¯m so sorry.¡± She pulled me into a tight embrace.


    I¡¯d added more sorrow to Gardena¡¯s hand, yet I couldn¡¯t reveal that my mother lived without also revealing her mother¡¯s part in it. ¡°You helped me when I had nowhere else to turn. For that I¡¯m grateful.¡±


    She nodded, wiping her eyes.


    ¡°Marja sent the message from a produce distribution center in Spadros quadrant owned by the Clubbs.¡±


    Gardena peered at me with a slight frown.


    ¡°I believe she overheard someone there. It stands to reason that they ¡ª or someone who worked for them ¡ª killed her.¡±


    Gardena¡¯s face went from confusion to disbelief. ¡°You think the Clubbs killed her? That they killed your mother? Why?¡±


    I shook my head. ¡°I have no idea. My husband won¡¯t let me out of his sight, or the sight of his men,¡± several of whom stood on deck watching me, ¡°so it¡¯s been difficult to learn more.¡± No one was in earshot. ¡°Have you gained their confidence?¡±


    ¡°You want me to spy on the man who courts me?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want you to do anything you feel is wrong. But if the Clubbs plotted against them ...¡±


    Gardena took my hands. ¡°I understand. If someone hurt Mama ... I don¡¯t know what I might do.¡± She stood motionless, then gasped. ¡°Surely they ¡ª no. I can¡¯t believe they would ruin their own building and kill hundreds of people just to target one woman.¡± She shook her head. ¡°Why not shoot her? Even if your mother were in a rival Family, this is beyond monstrous.¡±


    I hadn¡¯t examined that aspect of it. ¡°Someone must be using the Clubbs, then. I don¡¯t have any other ideas.¡±


    Gardena stood in thought, then her face changed, as if she had come to some decision. ¡°I¡¯ll see what I can learn. They don¡¯t talk much around me, but Jon is Keeper of the Court. Perhaps they¡¯ve spoken to him.¡±


    And his twin, Jack, was allied with Frank Pagliacci. Fear gripped me. ¡°You mustn¡¯t breathe a word of this to Jack.¡±


    Gardena seemed confused. ¡°Why not?¡±


    How much could I tell her? At the doorway to the cabin, Jon and Tony were emerging. ¡°It¡¯s all too complex and there¡¯s no time. Please, trust me. Your life may be in danger if Jack learns you know of this.¡±


    She frowned. ¡°You and Jack have your differences, but ¡ª¡±


    ¡°Dena, Jack¡¯s threatened to kill me and destroy my family.¡±


    Gardena¡¯s hands flew to her mouth, eyes wide. ¡°Surely you don¡¯t believe this? I won¡¯t believe it.¡± She shook her head. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Jacqui, but you¡¯re wrong.¡±


    Tony and Jon threaded through the crowd towards us. I grabbed her arms. ¡°Promise me, Dena.¡±


    She glanced away. ¡°Very well.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t want anything to happen to you. Jack might not harm you, but his companions are dangerous beyond measure.¡±


    She peered at me. Then she nodded. ¡°I promise.¡±


    Jon handed a wine glass to Gardena. ¡°We come bearing gifts.¡±


    Tony offered me a glass of bourbon, neat, and I smiled at him. ¡°My favorite.¡±


    ¡°So I recall.¡±


    ¡°Excuse me,¡± Gardena said, disappearing into the crowd.


    Tony smiled at me. ¡°Did you have a nice chat?¡±


    My eyes met Jon¡¯s. Why didn¡¯t he do something about Jack? ¡°Yes, it was lovely.¡±


    ¡°Excuse me.¡± Jon moved in Gardena¡¯s direction.


    Tony and I sipped our drinks as we sailed upstream towards the Rim, the yacht tacking back and forth as we went.


    I recalled my speculation that Gardena¡¯s blackmailer was allied with Frank Pagliacci. Indeed, the timing made me certain of it. ¡°I believe Gardena¡¯s in danger from the men who target us.¡±


    Tony said nothing for several seconds. ¡°A police official once came to me with an astonishing story.¡±


    ¡°Did you not hear me?¡±


    ¡°A woman named Zia Cashout claimed you knifed her in the streets of Market Center dressed as a scullery maid. But you were at Dame Anastasia¡¯s house helping her pack. Were you at Dame Anastasia¡¯s house?¡±


    I gazed over the water. ¡°Of course.¡± For about an hour, then I went many places that day. Including Market Center, dressed as a scullery maid. ¡°Why would this woman make such a report?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. She disappeared soon after.¡±


    ¡°So why did the police go to you?¡±


    ¡°They were concerned about your safety and reputation, and thought I should know.¡± The water reflected in Tony¡¯s eyes made them as pale as Roy¡¯s.


    ¡°That was kind of them.¡±


    ¡°Indeed.¡± Tony clearly questioned my story.


    I wished I didn¡¯t have to keep lying to him, but if I told him where I was, he would ask why. And on that day, I visited Thrace Pike and his grandfather, and then Mr. Jake Bower. I didn¡¯t think Tony would be happy about either visit.


    That I had anything to do with Thrace Pike ¡ª a man who made public statements against my character ¡ª would upset him. That I went to an investigator¡¯s home (even though it was also his office) unescorted would alarm him no end.


    I didn¡¯t want Tony to learn of my visits to Mr. Pike until I found out what Mr. Bower¡¯s financial documents contained.


    ¡°Tony, you must listen. That letter ... I ¡ª you don¡¯t want to know what it contains. But they know too much ¡ª¡±


    Alarm flashed through his eyes. What was he so afraid I might learn?


    ¡°¡ª and I fear for our friends. They wish to destroy us, Tony. Not just kill, or make afraid. Destroy.¡±


    Jon approached us. ¡°May I speak to Mrs. Spadros?¡±


    Tony blinked. ¡°Why, of course.¡± He moved a few feet away, clearly curious as to what Jon might have to say.


    Jon didn¡¯t meet my eye. ¡°Do you carry your weapon?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡± Jon gave me the pistol years before.


    He relaxed. ¡°Good.¡± He paused, head down, hands on his hips. Then he straightened. ¡°May I ask a question?¡±


    I grinned. ¡°You just did.¡±


    He let out a short laugh. ¡°Well. I suppose so!¡± Then he sobered. ¡°This is a serious matter, Jacqui. Did you have your weapon on your person at the Grand Ball?¡±


    It was ten minutes from my entrance time. I went into the toilet-room, Amelia helping me with my dress. When Amelia saw my calf holster, she drew back in alarm. ¡°You¡¯re not to have that here!¡±


    I smiled, amused. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Amelia; I won¡¯t shoot anyone.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Of course.¡±


    ¡°When Jack advanced upon me, why didn¡¯t you draw your weapon? Or move away? Why¡¯d you come to my side instead?¡±


    I gaped at him. ¡°My only thought was for your safety.¡±


    Jon spoke fiercely. ¡°This will be your undoing, Jacqui! You must not forget your own safety! Certainly not over mine.¡±


    His demeanor startled me. ¡°What did Gardena say, Jon? Something¡¯s upset you.¡±


    Jon appeared surprised. ¡°Gardena said nothing.¡± But then he put his hand to his forehead, shook his head. ¡°I have no proof. It could¡¯ve been said in jest. But I overheard something just now ...¡± he dropped his hand to his side, ¡°and it made me fear for you. Promise me that if you find yourself in danger, you¡¯ll care for yourself, rather than rush to the defense of me or anyone else.¡±


    I touched his cheek. He was such a dear man. ¡°I promise.¡± I dropped my hand to take his. ¡°And you must promise to protect yourself and Gardena. You may both be in danger.¡±


    Jon grinned. ¡°We¡¯re Diamonds. We¡¯re always in some sort of danger.¡± He kissed my hand. ¡°Be at peace. My sister¡¯s well cared-for, never fear.¡±


    * * *


    Jon and Tony went off on some adventure, and I gazed over the water, considering Jon¡¯s words. What would it be like to grow up in a Family, constantly in danger?


    Mrs. Clubb approached with a brown-haired woman wearing forest green. ¡°Inventor Cuarenta, may I present Mrs. Spadros.¡±


    I curtsied low. ¡°It¡¯s an honor to meet you, Inventor.¡±


    The Inventor held out her hand. ¡°Please call me Lori.¡±


    She was perhaps twenty-five. I gave her my hand. ¡°Jacqui.¡±


    ¡°There!¡± Mrs. Clubb said. ¡°I wish you to be friends.¡± Mrs. Clubb moved into the crowd without so much as a fare-you-well.


    I chuckled. ¡°That was rather abrupt.¡±


    ¡°I believe she has other guests to attend,¡± the Inventor said.


    ¡°I meant no offense.¡±


    She smiled, her tone light. ¡°None taken.¡±


    I¡¯d never spoken with another quadrant¡¯s Inventor before. In fact, I thought doing so was forbidden. ¡°Was there some topic you wished me to bring to my husband?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± the Inventor said. ¡°But you might help nonetheless.¡±


    This surprised me. ¡°Oh? In what way?¡±


    ¡°Mrs. Clubb tells me you grew up in the Pot.¡±


    The sail creaked overhead. ¡°I did.¡±


    ¡°More to the point, in the Cathedral.¡±


    ¡°However did she know that?¡±


    Lori Cuarenta smiled. ¡°She knows just about everything. Was there a place in your Cathedral more revered than others? Where you weren¡¯t allowed to play? A special door, or a secret room?¡±


    That also seemed abrupt, and I felt wary. What did she want to know this for? ¡°Surely the women there could answer your questions far better than I.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m told the Clubb Inventor may not visit the Spadros Pot.¡±


    That had to be Roy¡¯s doing. ¡°Well, other than the altar, which is revered for obvious reason, I don¡¯t know of any such place.¡±


    The Inventor shook her head slightly. ¡°What obvious reason?¡±


    I stared at her. ¡°Do you not know? The Dealers used to cast the Holy Cards upon that very spot.¡±


    Kitty Clubb spoke behind me. ¡°It¡¯s true. Since the downfall of the Cathedral, the Dealers no longer cast the Cards as we did.¡±


    Her voice startled me. ¡°Kitty! I mean, Blessed Apprentice.¡± I curtsied, as did the Inventor. ¡°How good to see you!¡±


    Kitty gave me a wry smile. ¡°I grow tired of people calling me that.¡± She took our hands. ¡°It¡¯s good to see you both.¡±


    They must know each other well, I thought, given the similarity of ages. What would friendship with an Inventor be like? ¡°You¡¯ve been reading.¡± Last time we met, Kitty didn¡¯t even know the Cathedral still stood.


    Kitty blushed. ¡°I have.¡± She turned to Lori Cuarenta. ¡°Mrs. Spadros has been most patient with my unschooled questioning.¡±


    ¡°I wish I could help further,¡± I said, not wanting the questioning to resume. I caught Tony¡¯s eye and smiled: our signal for conversations we wished to be extricated from.


    He nodded, picking his way towards us.


    ¡°I was astonished to see you,¡± I said. ¡°I thought you were cloistered for your first year.¡±


    Kitty grinned. ¡°What Mommy wants, Mommy gets.¡± She gestured at a woman wearing an emerald green robe and scarf, then laughed. ¡°I¡¯m allowed out, with a minder.¡±


    Tony approached us and bowed. ¡°Ladies, please excuse my interruption, but I have need to speak with my wife.¡±


    I took Tony''s arm and went the other direction. ¡°Thanks.¡±


    ¡°Who was the woman with Kitty Clubb?¡±


    ¡°Their Inventor, with an inordinate interest in the Cathedral.¡±


    Tony¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°As I recall, Miss Clubb had quite an interest in it at the dinner.¡±


    She did, upsetting the entire table when Tony forced me to give answer to her questions. ¡°As did you, if I recall.¡±


    Tony stopped. ¡°I should never have pressed you that night; I regret doing so.¡±


    I smiled at him. ¡°All is forgiven.¡± I drained my drink. ¡°I¡¯ve found that not all questions should be answered.¡± Yet there were still too many unanswered questions for my liking.


    Why were the Clubbs so interested in the Cathedral?


    What did Marja overhear in their warehouse?


    Was she killed to keep her silent? Was it a random shooting? Or was it simply another of Frank Pagliacci¡¯s distractions?


    Gardena was right, of course. The Clubbs would never waste time killing a brothel owner in the Spadros Pot. And to do so using a zeppelin explosion?


    I examined the glass in my hand, put it on a passing waiter¡¯s tray. ¡°I should stop drinking so much.¡±


    Tony gave a slight smile. ¡°That¡¯s a good idea.¡±

 Chapter 3: The Ace of Clubs - Round 18: The Documents

    The next morning, I received a letter from Mr. Paul Blackberry, the current editor of the Bridges Daily:


    About your inquiry, madam ¡ª these are known merchants for the quadrant in question:


    The Ladies¡¯ Emporium


    Blind Button Dealers, Inc.


    Mississippi Paper Co.


    Big Bet Mining Supply


    Open Stakes Trainers


    The Dealer¡¯s blessings upon you. If you require anything more, you have only to ask. ¡ª PB


    What a list! I rewrote it, removing Mr. Blackberry¡¯s information, and passed it to Tony at breakfast. ¡°These are the shops which claimed Mr. Hart didn¡¯t pay them,¡± I said. ¡°I believe our enemies used false invoices to steal from them as well.¡±


    Tony shook his head. ¡°I should have asked Mr. Hart about this at the racetrack! Perhaps he¡¯ll allow us to speak with his merchants, or at the very least, share what the scoundrels stole.¡±


    Oh. I¡¯d forgotten these were in Hart quadrant. ¡°That would be helpful, I¡¯m sure.¡± But I chuckled as I pictured Mr. Hart¡¯s reaction to our having such a detailed list. We¡¯d be lucky if we got information from the Harts anytime soon.


    * * *


    I told Tony I wished to go to the river for luncheon, so his men cleared a wide section of the beach, with guards stationed to keep onlookers away. The men brought a changing cabana, and Tony put on his swimming suit. While Jane and Mary set up a picnic for us on the rocky shore, I slipped on some bathing-shoes to wade the gentle surf.


    The promenade remained open, and many strolled past. Fortunately, the reporters hadn¡¯t found us yet.


    After luncheon, Tony and several of his men returned to the water. I had Amelia put my boots back on. ¡°I might promenade,¡± I told Sawbuck. ¡°If you think it safe.¡±


    Sawbuck grinned. ¡°I let it slip we¡¯d be bathing at Straight-Draw,¡± an exclusive beach on the other side of the quadrant, ¡°so it¡¯ll take a while for them to find us here.¡± He gestured for four of Tony¡¯s men to follow.


    I strolled the promenade, parasol in hand, guards flanking me. Under a tree, a thin young man with straw-colored hair wearing a dark brown suit sat at the far end of a bench reading a newspaper. He wore brass-rimmed spectacles tinted brown.


    I sat at the other end of the bench, fanning myself. My guards stood more than far enough away not to overhear.


    ¡°Good day, madam,¡± Thrace Pike said. ¡°I feel quite the spy.¡±


    I held my fan up to hide my amusement. ¡°I could think of no other way to meet.¡±


    ¡°My grandfather is furious.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°He believes you planned to defraud him.¡±


    I went to Doyle Pike ¡ª or rather, to Thrace Pike, who turned the matter to his grandfather ¡ª about collecting debts for Dame Anastasia Louis. Doyle Pike agreed to receiving one percent of the take. ¡°It¡¯s not my fault you didn¡¯t get the money.¡±


    ¡°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 ¡ª¡± 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 ¡ª or whoever was blackmailing Tony ¡ª want money paid to Gardena? ¡°None of this makes sense.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps Miss Diamond provides some service we know nothing about,¡± Mr. Pike said.


    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°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 ¡ª¡±


    ¡°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 ¡ª¡±


    ¡°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 ¡ª 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 honor?¡±


    ¡°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 ¡ª seventeen or so ¡ª 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.¡±

 Chapter 3: The Ace of Clubs - Round 19: 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 ¡ª they called me ¡®the Diamond spinster¡¯¡ª¡±


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


    ¡°¡ª 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 ¡ª¡±


    ¡°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.


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    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 ¡ª 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 ¡ª and Tony ¡ª 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¡ªyour lawyer?¡± Tony looked as if he might faint.


    He never thought I would find out.


    ¡°To answer the questions you should be asking: One, I was made aware of certain transactions between Spadros and Diamond Manors; Two, I went to Gardena Diamond ¡ª¡±


    Tony took a step forward. ¡°Jacqui, I can explain ¡ª¡±


    This made me even angrier. ¡°How could you possibly explain this?¡± Disgusted, I said, ¡°And three: Gardena has told me all.¡±


    Tony¡¯s demeanor became that of a man terrified by some sudden thought. He whispered, ¡°Not here. Please. We don¡¯t know who listens.¡± He rushed to put the portraits away and lock the drawer. He tried to take my hand, but I shook it off. He never trusted me. Not once. ¡°Let¡¯s go out to the gardens, Jacqui. Please.¡±


    So I followed him out to the gardens, then turned on him. ¡°She told me all, Tony. All that you have not told me in the five years since you asked me to marry you. That you love and desire her. That you never wished to marry me ¡ª¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not true ¡ª¡±


    ¡°¡ª but felt forced to for fear of your father. And that you have a son you never told me about, even when Gardena begged you to.¡±


    Tony stared at me in horror.


    ¡°Did you think I would harm him? Did you think I would reveal him to your father? Or was I not good enough to know about him? All the times you¡¯ve chided and harassed me, had your men follow and spy on me. You were so worried about what I was doing, what I kept from you, and yet here you¡¯ve kept the most important thing in your life from me. When were you going to tell me? Would I have gone to my grave, not knowing? Would I learn from some tabloid, some chance meeting ¡ª¡±


    Tony flinched. So he knew I saw Roland on Market Center.


    ¡°¡ª and learn the truth? Why am I so untrustworthy in your eyes? What defect have I that I can¡¯t know the bonds of love my husband has, that I have to learn of his son from his mistress?¡±


    He went pale. ¡°Jacqui, it¡¯s not like that ¡ª¡±


    ¡°Not like what? You don¡¯t spend time with your true family, speak Italian with the woman you love and her son? You never even tried to teach me!¡± That hurt almost as much as anything else. ¡°Perhaps you have some secret hideaway you use those times when you say you¡¯re out late tending to the Business.¡±


    Tony said, ¡°I¡¯ve never seen Roland, Jacqui. I wasn¡¯t even allowed to name him. And Gardena¡¯s never allowed me to touch her again.¡± His shoulders slumped. ¡°After the dinner, a letter came with the last photo: ¡®This is all you¡¯ll see until you tell her¡¯.¡±


    I felt as if cold water had been thrown upon me. So Gardena had blackmailed him, there at the last. That was why Jonathan was so angry at her on Queen¡¯s Day.


    I drew him to the arbor, where two chairs and a small white table stood. I sat across from him, leaning my arms on the table. ¡°Tell me what happened.¡±


    ¡°What happened? I was young, and stupid, and too much in love.¡± Tony sounded disgusted with himself. ¡°Several weeks later, I slipped my guards, just as you do. The Diamonds captured and blindfolded me, then told me Gardena was with child. They said I must marry her or sign their paper ¡ª but what choice was there? I couldn¡¯t risk harm coming to her. I was barely of age, terrified of my father learning, so I consulted no one. But I must pay, and there¡¯s nothing in the paper as to what I get in return!¡± He sounded close to panic. ¡°I took them to a secret court after the dinner; my lawyer provided every argument he knew. But it¡¯s no use. I can¡¯t see my son, and if I try I may be prosecuted.¡± His voice broke. ¡°My own child! I see pictures of him, and he of me. Or so they tell me. Who knows what he thinks!¡± He put his head in his hands. ¡°He must think I abandoned him. That I care nothing for him. It¡¯s unfair. It¡¯s unjust.¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± I said. ¡°This is a situation.¡± The Diamonds took advantage of his youth, his fear, and played it. ¡°But now that I know, perhaps Gardena can persuade her father to relent.¡±


    ¡°He hates me, they all do.¡±


    ¡°Not Jon. And not even Gardena. She said she¡¯s fond of you.¡±


    More than fond.


    Oh, gods, I thought. She loves him too. ¡°She understands now why you refused to make things right.¡± I reached across the table, held his hand. ¡°So this is why the nightmares.¡±


    Tony shook his head. ¡°I know you hate me, Jacqui.¡±


    I let go of his hand. Did I hate him? I felt crushed, angry, abandoned, betrayed. ¡°You lied to me.¡±


    Tony went on. ¡°You¡¯re right. I lied. You should have known everything before you agreed to this madness.¡±


    A pang shot through me: I had never agreed to any of this.


    ¡°I gave money to them instead of keeping it safe for my lawful heirs.¡± He gave me a small sad smile. ¡°Which I believe you¡¯ll give me someday ¡ª if you¡¯ll let me.¡± He paused, suddenly downcast. ¡°You have every reason to hate me.¡±


    I leaned forward, cupped his face in my hands. ¡°But I don¡¯t hate you for this.¡±


    I had other reasons to hate him; sometimes I did. But I didn¡¯t want to think of my forced marriage, my meaningless life in this gilded cage, my murdered friends, his threats. I didn¡¯t want to think about Joe, who I had to see under false pretenses so he wouldn¡¯t be killed too.


    I must never speak of that: Joe had to be kept safe at all costs.


    ¡°In the Pot, none of this would mean anything. You¡¯re providing for your child. You sacrificed your dearest wishes to protect Gardena and your son.¡±


    Tony stared at me, mouth open. ¡°Y¡ªyou¡¯re proud of me?¡±


    I nodded.


    He took me onto his lap. ¡°Oh, Jacqui, I love you so much.¡±


    I laid my head on Tony¡¯s shoulder; he wrapped his arms around me. And I thought of Joe¡¯s words two months earlier:


    ¡°So he defies his father. He takes you and leaves Bridges. And then what? Are you going to stay with a man, sleep with a man, who you feel for only as a brother? Why?¡±


    I felt as if I woke to a strange land with no guideposts.


    I waited for Joe¡¯s leg to heal. I wanted to stop the men who kidnapped David. I wanted to learn who killed Marja. But the real reason I stayed? Fear of Roy Spadros.


    At first I didn¡¯t understand what Roy sharing a humiliating secret meant. Roy¡¯s only motivations involved causing pain. But then I realized he caused me pain by sharing his secret. He¡¯d cause Tony and Molly pain if I revealed it. Either way, he¡¯d won.


    My marriage to Tony was a torture set by Roy many years ago. But the torture had unwittingly extended, not only to Gardena, but to her entire family.


    I could no longer play this game. There was only one way everyone could be free.


    I had to leave.

 Chapter 3: The Ace of Clubs - Round 20: The Change

    I¡¯d thought of leaving before, and even made plans for it. But when I firmly decided to leave as a definite act of will, a tremendous weight lifted from me.


    Tony asked, ¡°What is it?¡±


    I kissed his cheek. ¡°Things will turn out well. You¡¯ll see.¡±


    Of course, all the other reasons I couldn¡¯t leave still remained. But it felt manageable: remove one card ¡ª mine ¡ª and the game was won. And yet I felt a great fondness for Tony, as if he were already free of me and happy.


    Perhaps I was mad, but it was a beautiful madness, where everything seemed so clear.


    Tony gazed into my eyes: his heart lay bare. ¡°You¡¯re a better woman than I ever imagined. I promise never to hide anything from you again.¡±


    Then madness passed; grief and anger returned. I rose, turned away. ¡°Let¡¯s go inside.¡± So I went through the gardens and to the veranda, Tony trailing behind.


    Tony said, ¡°Where would you like to take tea?¡±


    ¡°Is it that late? Here will do.¡± I hadn¡¯t faced Tony, nor did I wish to. ¡°I¡¯ll return shortly.¡±


    I went towards my rooms. I needed to think.


    How was I to find money for four zeppelin tickets? Surely Joe wouldn¡¯t leave his sister to face the Spadros Family alone. Tony would stop at nothing to learn where we went.


    When I entered my room, Amelia said, ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    I fell into her arms and wept; even now I couldn¡¯t say why.


    Amelia just let me cry. Once the storm passed, she took hold of my upper arms. ¡°Now tell me what happened.¡±


    Amelia helped raise Tony. I remembered her tears at his broken rib, how she wept the night I almost killed him with opium. I laughed bitterly, shaking my head. ¡°You don¡¯t want to know.¡± Amelia loved Tony more than her own son: to learn what he had done, what the Diamonds had done to him .... ¡°There are things I can¡¯t tell you, Amelia.¡±


    She smiled. ¡°I know, mum. But if ever I might ease your troubles, I¡¯ll do it gladly. You¡¯ve been kinder to me than any mistress should be, and for that I¡¯m grateful.¡±


    I stared at her, dismayed. ¡°One day we must talk.¡± Then I sighed. ¡°But today, my husband wishes tea on the veranda.¡±


    Amelia nodded. ¡°Come wash your face; your makeup needs fixing. Once you¡¯re ready, I¡¯ll take care of everything.¡±


    Cold water and deep breaths eased my face and mind. As Amelia redid my makeup, I forced myself to list the things which needed doing. I had almost enough money for one zeppelin ticket. Perhaps I might find a case, or borrow the money for more.


    Might the bank be willing to extend me a loan, with my apartments as collateral? They were in my name, after all.


    But the bank would want to know why I needed a loan, and surely would notify Tony ¡ª or worse, Roy ¡ª to ask permission.


    Or perhaps I could see a broker to ask about the value of the apartments. But how to do so without involving Tony? He¡¯d wish to know why I would sell the apartments so soon, especially since they were the only thing I had left of Dame Anastasia.


    But I still had her makeup book. If I were to disguise myself well enough to fool Tony¡¯s men, I might fool a property broker.


    ¡°There!¡± Amelia spoke proudly. ¡°Stand tall and smile, and no one will ever know you shed a tear.¡±


    * * *


    During tea, I considered the matter. A female broker would be scrutinized more closely than if I approached the bank myself. Someone would contact Tony or Roy to confirm my identity.


    I decided honesty might be the best policy here. Or at least forthrightness. ¡°I wish to renovate my apartments.¡±


    Tony sat reading some mail. ¡°Oh?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll need to take a loan on the bank.¡±


    Tony smiled. ¡°No need ¡ª I¡¯ll give you the money.¡±


    If I were to steal from the Spadros Family, they would never stop hunting me. ¡°Are you certain? I could take the loan, and establish credit. I¡¯ve read that ¡ª¡±


    Tony burst out laughing. ¡°A married woman? Taking loans, establishing credit? You sound like some widow merchant.¡± He smiled fondly at me. ¡°There¡¯s no need for such things. Write a list of what¡¯s needed, and the amount, and I¡¯ll give it to you. Or contract it out and have the bills sent to me.¡± He went back to reading. ¡°Whatever you wish.¡±


    ¡°Very well.¡±


    This was a mistake. If I made a list, Tony ¡ª or his accountant ¡ª would want to verify how the money was spent. Not only a mistake, a dead end.


    Perhaps inspiration might come to me later. In the meantime, there was something else I needed to bring up. ¡°I know you said you didn¡¯t want me working on cases anymore, but ... I must learn who killed my friend Marja. She was as a mother to me.¡±


    Tony glanced at the servants. ¡°Might we discuss this some other time?¡±


    I had forgotten they stood there. ¡°You¡¯re right, of course.¡±


    * * *


    After tea, Tony and I met with three Spadros Family lawyers. Tony¡¯s father Roy wanted to meet with us as well ¡ª or so Tony said ¡ª but Tony refused to have him here.


    The men sat in armchairs in Tony¡¯s study; we sat on the sofa. Tony posted Sawbuck to keep anyone from listening.


    A Mr. Primero Trevisane spoke, the other two taking notes. ¡°I¡¯ve managed to place you and your wife at the end of the proceedings, which went well with the inquest¡¯s wishes.¡±


    Tony¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°If I recall, this means they wish to build their case on testimony we might give, to prove us false.¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Mr. Trevisane said. ¡°Yet we can hear and counter their evidence.¡± He opened a thick folder. ¡°Servants were questioned first: those in attendance at the explosion and of all four Families.¡±


    ¡°Four?¡± I said.


    ¡°Since the allegation of collusion has taken place,¡± Mr. Trevisane said, ¡°the inquest has been made aware that this could be a Hart plot to defame the three Families so accused.¡±


    I laughed. ¡°An idea likely from the Clubbs.¡± Everyone stared at me. ¡°It¡¯s no secret they bear animosity towards each other.¡±


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Mr. Trevisane said. ¡°In any case, the questions seem irrelevant. What fuel runs the heating in Spadros Manor? When is Mrs. Spadros ¡®at home¡¯? Have there been any incidents?¡±


    ¡°Such as?¡± Tony said.


    ¡°The dismissal of three kitchen maids from the Pot. It angered many that instead of hiring their own, Spadros Manor would bring this sort,¡± he glanced at me, ¡°to serve in such capacity.¡±


    Tony said, ¡°A mistake which has since been corrected.¡±


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    ¡°But your butler revealed the theft of letters from your wife.¡± He turned to me. ¡°Perhaps you can enlighten us on this matter.¡±


    ¡°I never thought to examine them. If I may, I¡¯ll fetch them.¡±


    ¡°Of course, Mrs. Spadros. It would be helpful.¡±


    I poured a drink and began searching. I found the letters stacked at one end of the window-seat in my study. ¡°They¡¯re all personal correspondence. Must you read them?¡±


    Mr. Trevisane pursed his lips, frowning. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Mrs. Spadros, but they might contain something important.¡± He conferred with the others in whispers. ¡°If you would care to read them? Perhaps some detail might help.¡±


    I opened one. ¡°A notice of an appointment with my dressmaker.¡± I set it aside. ¡°A personal note inquiring after my health.¡± That was from Jonathan. And then I scanned the next envelope. ¡°I don¡¯t recall getting this.¡±


    Tony leaned forward. ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°A letter from Jo ¡ª Miss Josephine Kerr.¡± I¡¯d never seen Josie¡¯s handwriting before then; all her cards and envelopes so far had been embossed. But it seemed familiar. I tore the envelope open and glanced at the top: dated from before the Grand Ball.


    They intercepted my mail!


    But how? All mail was supposed to go through Pearson. ¡°Does Pearson keep a record of the mail?¡±


    Tony rang for Pearson.


    Why would they take a letter sent from Josie?


    Pearson entered. ¡°Yes, sir?¡±


    Tony said, ¡°Mrs. Spadros has a few questions for you.¡±


    Pearson closed the door, taking several steps into the room. For the first time, he seemed uneasy. ¡°How can I help, mum?¡±


    ¡°Do you keep a record of mail?¡±


    He glanced between Tony and I. ¡°What sort of record?¡±


    ¡°When a letter leaves. Where it¡¯s sent. When one arrives.¡±


    ¡°Yes, mum.¡± He surveyed the room. ¡°Do you need it?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Tony said. His face never changed, but he was angry.


    I turned to Mr. Trevisane. ¡°I fear these women were stealing my mail for longer than we thought. They may have been gathering information about who I have contact with.¡±


    Tony nodded. ¡°Might they have also taken mail you posted?¡±


    ¡°How would they do that?¡±


    Mr. Trevisane said, ¡°One might only bribe a messenger boy to have access to all sorts of information. We never use them except for the most routine correspondence.¡±


    ¡°Hey, you need be giving us more money.¡± Poignee stood in front of me in my study, hands on her hips. Ottilie and Treysa stood beside her. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t want us telling Mr. Spadros about your romp with Joseph Kerr, now, would you?¡±


    They blackmailed me to bribe messengers for my letters?


    Tony said, ¡°The will?¡±


    ¡°Oh, yes, sir,¡± Mr. Trevisane said, opening another file from his case. He handed over a stack of papers. ¡°Your signature on the last page, sir, then we can witness it.¡±


    He was going through with this?


    Tony scanned the papers then signed. ¡°Arrange a bank account for my wife. Place the income from her apartments there.¡±


    The lawyers gaped at Tony. ¡°Why sir,¡± Mr. Trevisane said, ¡°a woman? Holding a bank account? Why, it¡¯s preposterous! We¡¯ll have to consult your father ¡ª¡±


    Tony¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change. He reached into his left jacket pocket, removed his revolver from its holster, then placed it on his leg, the barrel pointing towards the man. ¡°I didn¡¯t hear you correctly. Are you my attorney or are you my father¡¯s?¡±


    Mr. Trevisane glanced at the revolver. ¡°Y¡ªyours, sir.¡±


    ¡°Then pray carry out my wishes. Without involving my father.¡± He pointed the gun back and forth at the three men, not raising it from his leg. ¡°Or I will know who to call to account. Make sure the bank understands this as well, because I¡¯ll hold you responsible should he hear of it.¡±


    The three turned pale, then nodded. Tony replaced his revolver in its holster.


    I glanced at the fireplace, where Tony shot Duck after the man betrayed him. I could never forget the pool of blood there.


    I¡¯d been to the bank on Tony¡¯s behalf many times, and of course I had Anastasia¡¯s lockbox. But I¡¯d never had a bank account before, and I didn¡¯t know whether to be excited or afraid.


    Pearson returned with two of his sons, each carrying a large stack of ledgers. ¡°This is for the year so far, mum.¡±


    And it wasn¡¯t yet May! ¡°Bring the six months prior.¡± I turned to the men. ¡°That was when the women were most saucy to me,¡± I gave Tony a quick glance, ¡°which is why they were dismissed.¡±


    These men had no business hearing the real reason.


    Pearson glanced between us then said, ¡°Yes, mum.¡± The three left, returning ¡ª in two trips ¡ª with six equally large stacks.


    Pearson wouldn¡¯t recognize some of my mail, but Tony would wonder why I wrote to (for example) Thrace Pike. I needed to see what was in the ledgers before Tony did. ¡°This¡¯ll be like finding a needle in a haystack. I keep record of correspondence; I¡¯d be happy to search for missing mail.¡± I didn¡¯t keep any record, but it was the best way to control these records I could think of.


    ¡°That would be helpful,¡± Mr. Trevisane said. ¡°In the meantime, let¡¯s turn to the matter of your appearances at the inquest. The Four Families will appear in the audience three days from now, when the public is invited to speak.¡±


    I almost laughed at what was unspoken: to give the impression of caring about their opinions.


    ¡°Deep mourning would be best for the duration of the inquest. You¡¯re only allowed to enter and exit during a lull in the proceedings, or in case of emergency. You do not rise except when a judge enters, on exiting, or if need be to allow another to pass.¡±


    ¡°Judges?¡± Tony said. ¡°I thought this was merely an inquest.¡±


    ¡°Well, yes,¡± Mr. Trevisane said. ¡°But since I don¡¯t know the future, I thought it wise to educate your wife on these matters.¡±


    Tony seemed put out. ¡°Very well.¡±


    I said, ¡°What¡¯s a judge? How will I know one?¡±


    ¡°The man in charge of the proceedings,¡± Mr. Trevisane said.


    Tony put his hand on mine. ¡°Just do as we do.¡±


    Mr. Trevisane continued. ¡°When appearing as a witness, answer the question asked, nothing more. Make them draw the information from you. Unfortunately, we¡¯re not permitted to cross-examine, but they¡¯ll ask if there¡¯s any information they¡¯ve neglected. This is where we must determine your exact words.¡±


    * * *


    After a half-hour of this, they left.


    Pearson brought a note for Tony, who read it, then kissed my forehead. ¡°I¡¯m off to Market Center. I¡¯ll visit the Chief of Police about your friend. Master Kerr said there was little interest in her case.¡± He grinned. ¡°Perhaps I can persuade him to take interest.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± I said, impressed.


    I went to my study, setting the stolen letters aside. On the desk sat three more: from Joseph Kerr, Jon, and Gardena.


    Seeing Jon and Gardena¡¯s names sent me into a rage. What did I have to say to them? How could they explain themselves? They¡¯d not only lied to me, they¡¯d betrayed Tony! I crumpled the unopened letters, throwing them into the freshly-lit fire.


    At that moment, I wished to see neither one of them again.


    Joe¡¯s letter I opened as if sent from the Floorman himself, amazed at having a part of him with me. He wrote with large, printed letters, as a young child might.


    I hope you¡¯re well. Please visit tomorrow after luncheon. Look forward to our meeting. ¡ª Joe


    I hugged Joe¡¯s letter, imagining his beloved face pressing upon my chest. I felt such joy that I kissed the letter, leaving a lipstick mark. Then I locked it in my desk. Soon, my love, soon.


    I went to the door. ¡°Pearson, please notify the bridge guards that we¡¯re not at home if the Diamonds should call.¡±


    ¡°Yes, mum. For how long?¡±


    ¡°Until we say otherwise. And I¡¯ll call on the Kerrs tomorrow after luncheon.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll have the carriage ready. Will there be anything else?¡±


    ¡°My cigarettes, and a bottle of bourbon.¡± I was celebrating.


    * * *


    Ledgers sat in neat rows between my desk and the fireplace.


    I poured some bourbon, opened a ledger, and began reading, stacking the ledgers on the other side of my desk as I went. They detailed comings and goings, arguments in the hallway and packages delivered. Many entries were about mail, or meetings with people who came calling ¡ª about both Tony and myself!


    Then there was a note:


    Mr. Anthony surprised me whilst writing. We conversed.


    We conversed? I daresay you did. Tony must have been furious.


    I called Pearson in, a ledger open, waiting until he closed the door and stood before me. ¡°Why do you listen outside my door?¡±


    Pearson stared straight ahead and said nothing.


    I rose, coming round my desk to walk past him. ¡°I¡¯ve trusted you since I was a small girl. But now I find you¡¯ve made notes on me. Listened at my door. You¡¯re reporting to my husband, but only after he discovered you. Who do you really report to?¡±


    Pearson¡¯s jaw clenched, but he said nothing.


    ¡°It¡¯s insupportable. You¡¯ve betrayed me, my husband, everyone. Yet you¡¯re not the only one doing so. Do I have to dismiss my entire staff?¡± I stood in front of him. ¡°This will stop.¡±


    ¡°I can¡¯t, mum.¡±


    ¡°Well, it must.¡±


    His nose reddened. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, mum, I can¡¯t.¡±


    I had never seen Pearson so distressed in my life. ¡°Why?¡±


    He hesitated a full minute, glancing at me from time to time, becoming more agitated as the seconds passed. Then he spoke in an anguished whisper. ¡°Mr. Roy has my mother.¡±


    His mother?


    ¡°When my family was made gift to Mr. Anthony, he took my mother as hostage.¡± He turned aside. ¡°To spy on my own Family is insupportable, mum, but I can¡¯t take the chance.¡±


    I spoke without meaning to. ¡°Why would he do this?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± He sounded adrift. ¡°I¡¯d never betrayed him, even in my thoughts. I¡¯ve been in the Family since birth. Mr. Roy and I were boys together in this house.¡± He retrieved his handkerchief and wiped his nose. ¡°You and Mr. Anthony are dear to me as my own children. You mustn¡¯t think I betrayed you.¡±


    ¡°Oh, Pearson.¡± I put my arms around his, resting my head on his left shoulder. ¡°Forgive me for not trusting you.¡± I let go, came round to face him. ¡°Do you have proof she lives?¡±


    ¡°She sends letters. And I visit her when you and Mr. Anthony are out. I saw her last month. She appears well.¡± His jaw clenched. ¡°But she belongs in the home Mr. Acevedo gave her.¡±


    I took a deep breath, let it out: no idea came. But I had to do something. This was wrong. ¡°If it¡¯s in my power, I¡¯ll win her free.¡±


    He froze. ¡°Mum, you must do nothing. He might kill her.¡±


    I nodded, whispering, ¡°Someday I¡¯ll kill him, never fear.¡±


    He smiled sadly, shaking his head. ¡°Were all my sons combined half so fierce.¡± His shoulders drooped. ¡°But I suppose lambs are best for the servant¡¯s lot.¡±


    I placed my hand on his shoulder. Jane, Mary, his sons ... they must be terrified. ¡°None of you deserve this.¡±


    He stared at the floor. ¡°I¡¯m glad you told Mr. Anthony where you¡¯ve been going. He fears for you.¡±


    I sighed. Tony seemed to be fearful of everything.


    ¡°I remember when he was a tiny boy. Such a happy child. He adored his brother. But I¡¯ll never forget the way he stared at Master Roy Acevedo¡¯s body ¡ª after it happened. He found him. Even though Mr. Anthony was but two,¡± Pearson shook his head, ¡°I fear the sight changed him.¡±

 Chapter 3: The Ace of Clubs - Round 21: The Map

    The doorbell rang.


    ¡°Please excuse me, mum,¡± Pearson said.


    I stood in the middle of the room, trying to make sense of what he¡¯d just said. Tony found his brother¡¯s body?


    I knew almost nothing about the boy, not even his name, until Pearson said it just now. But the way he¡¯d been spoken of over the years made me feel as if something terrible had taken place.


    Poisoning is what everyone said.


    But who would poison a child?


    * * *


    Pearson came in holding a silver tray containing a full bottle, a glass, a silver case containing my cigarettes, and a letter. ¡°This just arrived, mum. From the Inventor.¡±


    Whatever could the Inventor want to mail me about? Pearson lit a cigarette for me. ¡°Thank you, Pearson, that will be all.¡±


    I poured a glass, took a long drink, then opened the letter.


    Maxim Call wrote with a flowing hand, full of flourishes. From what I gathered, they weren¡¯t having any more luck finding the controls to this new piling than they had with ours. They¡¯d spent a great deal of time repairing the lift mechanisms and were just now able to descend safely to the observatory.


    ¡°Now that we know the sort of thing we¡¯re looking for,¡± the Inventor wrote, ¡°the process should go more smoothly. I may stay here to compare the readings on this piling with yours, but that shouldn¡¯t take more than a few months. In the meantime, I¡¯ve had my men search for others in the city. It¡¯s a pity there isn¡¯t any sort of map ¡ª¡±


    Map?


    I lay upon the floor in the midst of Ma¡¯s cathedral as the sun rose.


    Four buttresses rose from the floor of the huge round structure to meet in a grand domed window of stained glass. But in the ceiling lay smaller windows, spaced evenly through each quadrant. Each of these smaller windows - still larger than I was - held an array of yellow, gold, and red, which reminded me of flowers.


    I never understood what these meant until now. ¡°Pearson!¡±


    He peered in, face concerned. ¡°Are you well, mum?¡±


    ¡°I must speak with the Inventor immediately. It¡¯s urgent.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll send men to find him, mum.¡±


    ¡°No, fetch Amelia. We must go to him.¡±


    Amelia produced a deep purple gown I hadn¡¯t worn before, and placed the elderberry shawl atop it. ¡°This will do for now. I don¡¯t expect the Inventor cares much for formality.¡±


    ¡°This dress is lovely,¡± I said. ¡°When can I wear it again?¡±


    ¡°After the inquest. You¡¯d think you lost a parent, or Mr. Anthony himself, the way they force you to deep mourning.¡±


    ¡°I suppose it¡¯s for the best.¡± I still mourned many people, yet I wondered if continuing to appear in public wearing mourning garb brought Dame Anastasia to mind more than it should.


    * * *


    Tony would have approved of our entourage: Honor had accompanied him to Market Center, so Blitz escorted us, armed, with a full set of outriders. Blitz bowed when I approached, a wry grin on his face. ¡°Mrs. Spadros.¡±


    ¡°Good evening, Blitz.¡± He helped me into the carriage. ¡°This excursion isn¡¯t likely to be as diverting as others we¡¯ve taken.¡±


    He chuckled and closed the door.


    While on our journey, I thought about Tony, Jon, Gardena, and everything they were involved with. I didn¡¯t belong with these quadrant-folk, unraveling the fruits of their twisted schemes. I was one of the Dealers¡¯ Daughters, a direct descendant of the women who survived the assault on the Cathedral during the Coup. My place was with them.


    But as long as Roy Spadros ruled, I didn¡¯t dare try to return home. He¡¯d threatened to burn the Cathedral with everyone in it should I step back into the Spadros Pot, and at the time, I believed he might do it.


    My only other option was to leave with Joe, sending what aid we could from a place of safety. But if what I knew helped Inventor Call repair the city, at the time, I felt glad to offer it.


    This second piling lay under a home near 143rd and Book. A maid in her forties opened the door. Her eyes widened. Then she fled, leaving the door open. So we stood waiting.


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    ¡°Well?¡± A man said in the distance. ¡°Did you let them in?¡±


    Footsteps approached. The occupants, an elderly couple, gaped in astonishment. ¡°Mrs. Spadros?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m here to see Inventor Call. May we enter?¡±


    ¡°Of course!¡± They made way, bowing and curtsying as we passed. ¡°I apologize for our foolish girl,¡± the man said. ¡°I think you quite flummoxed her. This way!¡±


    They led us through their luxurious home to a wide, well-stocked pantry. At the back of this was a door, which opened on a narrow flight of wooden steps down to a storeroom large enough to encompass the entire house, with thick supports at intervals. In the center of the floor, a large trap door lay open.


    The man pointed to it. ¡°My father built this home. My parents kept the door locked, and when they turned in their cards, I never thought to look.¡±


    I grinned at him. ¡°You hold quite a treasure.¡±


    Blitz said, ¡°I¡¯ll fetch the Inventor, mum; there¡¯s no need for you to dirty yourself.¡±


    I so loved the curling orange steam which rose from the magma. But I would only become sweaty, and there was no time to bathe before dressing for dinner. ¡°Very well.¡±


    Tony¡¯s men brought down straight-backed chairs and a dark wooden tea-table, and I sat to await the Inventor. After some time, he emerged, muttering under his breath.


    He let out a short laugh when he saw the table and chairs in the midst of the storage room. ¡°Am I called away from my work to have tea, then?¡±


    I rose, curtsying low. ¡°Inventor, I have urgent news for you.¡± I glanced around. ¡°Blitz can stand guard; the rest of you, out. This is not for Mr. Roy¡¯s ears.¡±


    One man let out a laugh. But they filed upstairs without protest and the door was shut. Blitz stationed himself at the bottom of the stairs, a good ten yards from us.


    I gestured to a chair. ¡°Please, sir, sit.¡±


    Maxim Call appeared intrigued. ¡°What¡¯s your urgent news?¡±


    I leaned forward. ¡°I believe I have your map.¡±


    The Inventor¡¯s face became that of an excited schoolboy. ¡°Praise the Dealer! However did you find it?¡±


    So explained that I grew up in the Cathedral, and shared my recollections of its skylights. ¡°I don¡¯t know what else it could be.¡±


    The Inventor shouted, ¡°Monte! Get up here!¡±


    Feet ran up metal stairs, and a dark-haired Apprentice emerged. ¡°Yes, Inventor?¡±


    ¡°Pen and ink, at once.¡± Inventor Call turned to me. ¡°Tell me of the smaller circles. Were they all the same?¡±


    ¡°I think so. It¡¯s been so many years since I lived there.¡±


    He became solemn. ¡°I¡¯m astonished you¡¯re here.¡±


    ¡°You didn¡¯t know I was from the Pot?¡±


    ¡°No one¡¯s ever mentioned it.¡±


    I found that hard to believe. Everywhere I went, ladies of rank used my birthplace as a reason for scorn. But Maxim Call seldom mixed in social circles. ¡°And what do you think now?¡±


    ¡°This is the most exciting discovery imaginable!¡± The Inventor took pen and ink from his Apprentice and set it down before me, along with several large sheets of paper. ¡°You must draw every detail. This knowledge could save the city!¡±


    By the time we returned, it was past time to dress for dinner, so Amelia put me in a simple, easier to assemble gown. I had refused to let Amelia fuss with my hair earlier, so all was ready.


    I hurried downstairs; Tony stood waiting. ¡°I hear you had an exciting time.¡±


    Amused, I took his arm. ¡°Inventor Call near leapt with enthusiasm. I brought a map of his beloved pilings.¡±


    We strolled past our sun-room, turned towards the dining hall. ¡°Where did you find it?¡±


    I tapped my temple.


    ¡°Oh,¡± Tony said, impressed.


    ¡°We should speak of this later,¡± I said, glancing at the servants around the long table.


    * * *


    As we sat in my bed, I told Tony of my recollections of the Cathedral. Yet I refrained from specifics, not knowing who listened. ¡°Inventor Call didn¡¯t know where I came from.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not widely known,¡± Tony said.


    ¡°But all the ladies of standing know, and I imagine their gentlemen as well.¡±


    ¡°Nevertheless,¡± Tony said, ¡°Don¡¯t volunteer it.¡±


    ¡°What have I to be ashamed of?¡±


    Tony kissed my hand. ¡°Nothing. But there are those who would take offense, and I wish everyone to love you as I do.¡±


    Yet you didn¡¯t trust me with Roland. He never explained why he feared telling me about his son. ¡°Do you believe me to be allied with your father?¡±


    ¡°What makes you say that?¡±


    I hesitated. ¡°Certain things you¡¯ve hidden. Yet you asked if I wanted the Family.¡± I couldn¡¯t understand how this even crossed his mind. A woman Patriarch? ¡°I just want to understand what you¡¯re thinking. At times, I don¡¯t feel I know you.¡±


    He wrapped his arms around me, his face in my hair. ¡°For a long time, I¡¯ve been almost mad with fear,¡± he murmured. ¡°For you, for Gardena, for my son. Even, I suppose, for myself.¡±


    I recalled what Pearson said about Tony finding his older brother¡¯s body. What would that sight do to a child?


    Tony cradled my face in his hands. ¡°I¡¯ve been a fool. You¡¯ve had much more to fear, yet instead of learning to protect myself as you have, I¡¯ve let my fear come close to destroying us.¡± He dropped his hands. ¡°My father was right. You were right. If I don¡¯t find a way to be a different man, I¡¯m condemning us to death. If not now, then when my father¡¯s time comes.¡± He snorted. ¡°Why should men follow me if I can¡¯t control myself?¡±


    ¡°Tony, listen to me. You have men who¡¯d follow you into the Fire.¡± I thought then of what Jon told me on the Clubb¡¯s yacht. ¡°But you must think of yourself first. Make yourself strong, and trust that others are strong as well.¡± I placed my hand on his cheek. ¡°You don¡¯t have to protect the whole world.¡±


    Tony laughed, and for the first time, he seemed happy. He put his hand on mine. ¡°I don¡¯t know why my father chose you for me, but I¡¯m grateful.¡± He straightened as if coming into some insight. ¡°I must be worthy of respect if my father¡¯s men are to follow me one day. Perhaps they despise me now, but there must be a way to earn their allegiance without becoming my father.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°A good intention indeed.¡±


    Tony pulled me close, kissed me.


    This surprised me so much I stiffened.


    Relax, breathe, you can do this.


    Tony caressed my hair. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    Oh, gods. ¡°You surprised me, that¡¯s all.¡±


    He smiled, moving his arm around my waist. ¡°A good surprise, I hope.¡±


    Does he suspect I don¡¯t desire him? I forced myself to smile, closed my eyes. Joe, where are you?


    I let out a sigh, forced myself to relax.


    Tony ¡ª Joe moved his hand up my leg, kissed me.


    Joe ... the way he smelled, his soft hair, the way he touched me ...


    I wrapped my arms around my beloved Joe, pulled his golden body to me. Kissed his beautiful face. ¡°Yes.¡± Joe¡¯s lithe body moved atop me, between my legs. I wrapped my legs around his muscled back, pressing him closer to me as he moved inside. Joe¡¯s breathing, his moans, only made me want him more. ¡°Yes. Oh, gods, yes.¡±

 Chapter 3: The Ace of Clubs - Round 22: The Reaction

    I awoke panting, bathed in sweat. Tony lay sleeping peacefully, and I felt grateful I hadn¡¯t screamed.


    I lay back on the pillows, aching from my earlier encounter.


    I didn¡¯t know who I was anymore.


    Was I going mad? Why did I tell Tony yes? Was it Tony I told, or Joe? Who was I intimate with? What would it do to Tony if he learned my yes was a lie?


    Then, with horror, I remembered the time Tony lay with me in his study. I said, ¡°I love you,¡± aloud, but it was to Joe.


    I had never lied to Tony: I never told Tony I loved him in all the years we had known each other. But should Tony ever learn the truth, he would believe me to have lied to him. He loved me. The truth would cut like nothing else ever could.


    I rolled away from Tony, curled into a ball. Tears streamed to my pillow, yet I held my hand over my mouth to keep from making a sound. What was I becoming? What had I done? What could I do?


    * * *


    The next morning, Tony brought flowers from our gardens as I sat drinking my ¡°morning tea.¡±


    I smiled, my heart heavy. ¡°Set the vase on the dresser.¡±


    He sat across my tea-table from me. ¡°What tea is this?¡±


    I forced myself to hide how uneasy I felt. He had never come in this early before, not to mention sitting at my tea-table.


    He removed the lid, sniffed it. ¡°I don¡¯t believe I¡¯ve smelled this kind before.¡±


    That tea was how I kept from bearing him children. Did he suspect? ¡°A formulation my mother made for me, long ago.¡± I poured the rest in my cup and set the empty pot down. ¡°It reminds me of her.¡±


    For a moment I felt sad. Did she ever think of me?


    Tony reached across the table to take my hand. ¡°You¡¯ve never spoken of your mother before.¡±


    She sent me away, and I¡¯ll never see her again. I shook my head, unable to speak.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Tony said. ¡°I only wished to make you smile.¡± He kissed my forehead. ¡°I¡¯ll speak no more of it. Enjoy your tea.¡±


    When the door closed behind him, I lay my head on my arms and sobbed. At that instant, I felt like Pip. I was Ma¡¯s only child. Why did she send me away?


    I recalled the disgusted look on her face when she turned away, as the carriage took me from her for the last time. What did I do to make her hate me?


    It wasn¡¯t often I cried like I did that day. Sitting on the street bench with David Bryce. The morning after my wedding, when I realized what I¡¯d been sold into. The day I heard of Nina¡¯s death.


    I stood, my back pressed on the wall beside the open door, listening.


    ¡°Did you hear? Miss Clubb¡¯s dead. Yes, Miss Nina. I heard it was at her own hand.¡±


    When they sent me home that evening, I sat in our back rooms at Ma¡¯s cathedral and wept the whole night. I was fourteen, and I felt my life was over.


    * * *


    After luncheon, I went calling on Joe and Josie, grateful for the chance to be away from the Manor.


    As the carriage rattled along, I remembered that lonely bereft girl and smiled. She never knew that in a few months time a certain boy would take interest.


    Joseph Kerr never paid me much mind before then, but one afternoon I sat outside the Cathedral smoking and he came over to see me. I found myself telling him everything ¡ª about Nina, the Spadros Family, Jack Diamond, even Air.


    From then on, we were inseparable.


    Joe got me cigarettes; I got him some of Ma¡¯s bread. He brought me into the plans he and Josie made for our street gang, the High-Low Split. I¡¯d sneak out once Ma fell asleep, then Joe and I would kiss in the moonlight. He never tried anything ¡ª I told him about Ma¡¯s patron, the Masked Man, and how he¡¯d forbidden me from entertaining any man, even in the Cathedral.


    We shared a bottle of moonshine one night. I might have been fifteen. ¡°They got plans for you,¡± Joe said.


    ¡°I wish I knew what.¡±


    ¡°You ever seen the man¡¯s face?¡±


    ¡°Never.¡± I described him: blue eyes, light skin, a brown leather mask, a dark cloak ¡ª sometimes black, sometimes brown. Dark brown leather boots. But nice: the clothes would fetch a lot. But no one dared touch him. He was that sort of guy. Scary, if you didn¡¯t know him, but always kind to me.


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    ¡°Wearing brown. With blue eyes. Could he be a Clubb spy?¡±


    I never considered such a thing. ¡°I dunno.¡±


    ¡°Damn spies.¡± Joe shook his head. ¡°I hate Clubbs. All of them. If it weren¡¯t for the Clubbs, my ancestor the King coulda left the city, him and his whole family.¡± He spat. ¡°My grandfather¡¯s parents never woulda ended up here. We coulda gotten help, come back,¡± he raised his fist, ¡°taken what was ours by right.¡±


    The Clubbs seized the zeppelin station during the Alcatraz Coup, trapping the Kerrs in Bridges.


    ¡°But then you¡¯d be a king or something.¡± I laughed. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t even know me.¡±


    He put his arm round me with a grin. ¡°No way I could ever resist knowing you.¡± But then he sobered. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t let the Cathedral be like this. The Dealers should be here casting the Cards, giving little kids their Blessings like in the old days.¡± He took a drag on his cigarette. ¡°One day I¡¯ll make this right, Jacqui, you¡¯ll see.¡±


    * * *


    Joe and Josie came into their parlor together, Joe walking with a cane!


    I jumped up. ¡°Oh! I¡¯m so glad you¡¯re doing well.¡±


    Joe shrugged, dejected. ¡°I can walk.¡± He winced when putting weight on his leg. ¡°I still have to be careful. The doctor claims the bone is sound enough, but everything hurts.¡±


    Josie laughed. ¡°He frets like an old woman these days. The doctor says he heals remarkably well.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m relieved.¡±


    Josie placed a chair next to the sofa. ¡°Sit close to the end.¡±


    Joe sat in the chair beside me. ¡°It¡¯s better with a firm seat.¡±


    Josie went to the sideboard. ¡°I got this to celebrate.¡± She brought over a bottle of fine wine and three glasses.


    ¡°How wonderful!¡± Remembering their finances, I opened my handbag. ¡°Let me contribute for the cost.¡±


    She smiled. ¡°Thanks, Jacqui.¡± Josie poured the wine, and we toasted Joe¡¯s newfound ability.


    ¡°Just like old times, back in the Pot,¡± Joe said. ¡°The three of us together, sharing a drink.¡± He stretched like a cat. ¡°Life is good.¡±


    Josie sat across the table from us and spoke quietly. ¡°Joe told me of your idea. It seems reasonable.¡±


    For a moment I felt confused.


    Joe leaned over to speak in my ear. ¡°To leave here.¡±


    ¡°Ah,¡± I said. Josie was obviously worried about being overheard. ¡°I had a question about Marja.¡±


    Josie nodded. ¡°Yes, Joe told me. It sounds as if she sent the letter from her work.¡± She leaned forward. ¡°Do you still have it?¡±


    I shook my head, remembering my joy at Joe¡¯s letter. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry. I burned it.¡± How was I to know it would be the last thing they had of her?


    Josie sighed, leaning back. ¡°Don¡¯t fret. It¡¯s only ¡ª¡±


    ¡°You wanted something to remember her by. I understand.¡±


    She nodded, looking away. ¡°Think nothing of it.¡± She gave me a happy, relieved smile, then stood. ¡°I¡¯ll play a bit,¡± she said with a sly grin, ¡°so you can talk without me around.¡±


    Joe laughed. ¡°You are a dear.¡±


    As she began to play, Joe intertwined his fingers in mine. ¡°I don¡¯t know what I¡¯d do without Josie.¡± He kissed my hand. ¡°She¡¯s taken care of me through everything.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m terribly grateful for her,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s good to see her doing so well through it all.¡± Enduring this place, Joe¡¯s fall, and now, Marja. Yet we¡¯d survived it. Feeling a surge of fondness, I hugged our clasped hands to my face. ¡°I love you so much, Joe.¡±


    We held hands as Josie played. I felt so safe, so at peace, so loved. Everything was right when Joe was near.


    ¡°Jacqui, I¡¯ve learned who started this Red Dog Gang your husband spoke of.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡±


    ¡°The Clubbs, Jacqui. I have it from a reliable source.¡±


    ¡°I thought you told my husband the Diamonds started it.¡±


    Joe caressed my hair. ¡°He must have been mistaken. Mixed me up with someone else. I said no such thing.¡±


    It wasn¡¯t like Tony to misspeak. Or was I mistaken? ¡°Are you sure? I don¡¯t understand. Why would the Clubbs hire children to throw rocks at their own ¡ª¡±


    He gazed into my eyes, which flustered me. ¡°If they wanted to blame someone else for it, this makes perfect sense,¡± Joe said calmly. ¡°And they¡¯ve used Hart colors. They could claim he began it, and everyone would believe them.¡±


    I recalled the Golden Bridges article in February. ¡°People are already saying it.¡± I read back over the article in my mind. ¡°The Clubbs said it. The article said they planned formal protest.¡±


    Joe shook his head. ¡°The scoundrels! Mr. Hart may be many things, but he doesn¡¯t deserve this.¡±


    ¡°Why does he dislike you so much?¡±


    Joe gazed towards Josie, and she gave a slight nod. ¡°You saw him at the racetrack, Jacqui. He knows how you feel for me.¡±


    I could hardly believe my ears. ¡°He¡¯s jealous? But ¡ª he¡¯s married! And,¡± the idea disgusted me, ¡°old.¡±


    Joe laughed. ¡°That he is. Never fear: once we¡¯ve left Bridges, he¡¯ll never bother you again.¡±


    I kissed his hand, moved by his words. Then he leaned over and kissed my lips, softly, his hand cupping my face.


    If only you were well. If only we might leave here. If only I didn¡¯t have to go home, face Tony, endure my wife duties tonight.


    If I could keep my mind on Joe, they weren¡¯t so bad. But before that ....


    And how could I keep lying to Tony? Keep dodging his questions? Every day, every night meant more pain to come. I had to get away from here. I gripped Joe¡¯s hand, gazed into his eyes. ¡°You must recover quickly!¡±


    He smiled his glorious smile. ¡°I have no other wish, if only to leave with you sooner.¡± He paused, growing somber. ¡°But we must plan this carefully if we¡¯re to escape without suspicion...¡±


    Escape. The word once said made this feel more real.


    ¡°You¡¯re better at such things. What shall we do? And when?¡±


    I clasped his hand. ¡°We must gain tickets for the zeppelin.¡±


    Joe nodded. ¡°Yes.¡±


    I took a deep breath. ¡°But I don¡¯t have enough money.¡±


    ¡°Never fear,¡± Joe said. ¡°I may have to call in some favors.¡± He glanced away. ¡°I may have to do more than that.¡±


    The way he said it made me fear he might return to the Pot of an evening to sell himself, as he did when he was a boy. People¡¯ll pay top rate to fuck a Kerr, he once told me.


    He caressed the side of my cheek. ¡°But I will get them.¡± He glanced at the clock. ¡°Our grandfather will be home soon.¡±


    Josie said, ¡°I¡¯m so glad you could visit.¡± She came over to hug me, speaking in my ear. ¡°I¡¯m even happier at the thought you might be my sister soon.¡±


    Sister.


    I¡¯d forgotten: one might marry without papers, once past the Aperture. I hugged her tightly, kissed her cheek. ¡°I¡¯m glad too.¡±


    In the carriage, my mind was a-whirl. How might I gain the rest of the money for my zeppelin ticket?


    Selling the apartments was out. I had other things I might sell. But to who?


    They would have to be small things, sold very discreetly. If rumor arose that Mrs. Spadros was selling off her belongings, it could create the impression that the Family was in financial difficulty. A scandal was the last thing I needed.


    More importantly, I had to keep this from Tony. There was a limit to what he could withstand. Granted, he¡¯d been more generous than I imagined about my deceptions, but if he got the idea I meant to leave ...


    I didn¡¯t know what he might do. And that terrified me.


    The way he almost lazily shot his man Duck, bound and blindfolded as the man was, just for making a sound when Tony told him not to ....


    It was as if Tony lost the ability to care about anything once he realized the man betrayed him, even the danger to everyone in the room ¡ª including himself ¡ª should the bullet ricochet.


    If he reacted like this with a man¡¯s betrayal, how would he react to mine?

 Chapter 3: The Ace of Clubs - Round 23: The Money

    I sat at my desk going over my possessions in my mind. They were too costly to sell at any of the normal outlets, and reputable dealers would wonder why I sold them. If I tried to disguise myself, was able to sell an item, and Tony found it on someone else, they might be in danger.


    I felt deflated: another avenue blocked.


    I rang for Amelia. ¡°Is the afternoon paper here yet?¡±


    ¡°Why yes, mum. I¡¯ll fetch it at once.¡± She brought it in, her face puzzled. ¡°You¡¯ve never asked for it before.¡±


    I opened the newspaper to the zeppelin schedule. The zeppelin ran all day and night, although with fewer flights after dark. Meal service, bar, sleeping rooms ¡ª these flights sounded magnificent. I imagined lifting from the ground, flying.


    The paper listed the current prices. I almost had enough for one ticket if we went to the least expensive city. I tapped the paper with my pen, circled the price. I didn¡¯t like Joe selling himself to get our tickets, but no other ideas came to mind.


    Perhaps once the account was set up at the bank, I might withdraw that money. Well, most of it. If I closed the account, Tony might hear of it. How long would that be?


    Pearson came to my study and knocked. ¡°A Mrs. Gertie Pike here to see you, mum.¡±


    After a moment, I remembered the stout woman married to Thrace Pike. Whatever might she be doing here? ¡°Seat her in the parlor, Pearson, I¡¯ll be there at once.¡±


    Gertie Pike was twenty, somewhat thinner than I remembered, but she wore the same ugly gray dress she had the last two times I saw her. Her hair, straight, blonde and lank, her skin sallow, her teeth uneven, her eyes too close together. But she loved Thrace Pike and their child dearly, although I saw little in the man to warrant such interest.


    Mrs. Pike stood in the middle of the room, her coat still on, slowly turning to face me when I came in. ¡°It¡¯s all as he said.¡±


    Evidently she¡¯d read her husband¡¯s pamphlet, which detailed ¡ª without naming me, fortunately for him ¡ª an afternoon in January when I tried to seduce him.


    This was going to be awkward.


    I forced myself to smile. ¡°What a pleasure to see you. Would you like some tea?¡±


    ¡°Yes, mum, thank you.¡±


    I rang for a maid; Mary Pearson came in. Mary, like Gertie, was twenty, although just turned, with straight blonde hair. Unlike Mrs. Pike, Mary was pretty, with rosy cheeks and a bright smile. She curtsied. ¡°Yes, mum?¡±


    If my guess was right, Mrs. Pike didn¡¯t eat well. ¡°It¡¯s almost tea-time; set it up here.¡± It was actually twenty minutes before tea-time; I hoped Monsieur wasn¡¯t too put out by it.


    After Mary left, Mrs. Pike said, ¡°I don¡¯t wish to impose.¡±


    ¡°Nonsense. Mr. Spadros is out today; otherwise, I¡¯d have to take tea alone. You do me great service.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, mum.¡±


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    ¡°How¡¯s your daughter?¡±


    ¡°She¡¯s well, mum, thank you.¡±


    The hem of her skirt had dragged in mud recently; the stain still lingered. ¡°How may I help you, Mrs. Pike?¡±


    ¡°You contracted my husband to perform tasks for you.¡±


    I chuckled. ¡°On the contrary ¡ª he volunteered.¡±


    She stared at me, mouth open. ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to pay him?¡±


    That was a fair question, especially in light of their poverty. ¡°As I said, he volunteered to do this for me. So I hadn¡¯t considered the matter.¡±


    ¡°And now that you¡¯ve considered the matter?¡±


    I sighed, feeling melancholy. ¡°I¡¯m not pleased with what he found, but it was helpful.¡±


    ¡°Then I ask that you pay him, not his grandfather.¡±


    ¡°Why do you ask this?¡±


    Mary came in with tea, slices of cake, and a small crock of butter. ¡°There wasn¡¯t time for icing, mum. I hope butter will do.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s lovely, Mary; please thank the kitchen staff for it.¡±


    She curtsied. ¡°I will, mum.¡±


    Mrs. Pike took cake, spreading it with butter, then sat regarding me. ¡°You¡¯re an odd woman.¡±


    I smiled, selecting my cake and tea. ¡°How so?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re ready to take any advantage, even over someone far your inferior, yet you¡¯re kind to servants. It¡¯s unusual.¡±


    My inferior? Did she not know I was a Pot rag? ¡°I suppose I¡¯m in an unusual situation.¡± The saltiness of the butter was lovely with the warm sweet cake. ¡°I enjoy it when people speak truth. You find it so seldom.¡±


    She ate her cake, sipped her tea. My answer seemed to embolden her. ¡°Then I¡¯ll speak truth.¡± When she spoke next, her voice shook. ¡°What are your intentions toward my husband?¡±


    I blinked. ¡°What?¡± A laugh burst from me. ¡°I have no intentions towards him whatsoever.¡±


    Mrs. Pike glanced away, cheeks reddening. ¡°It¡¯s just that ¡ª¡±


    ¡°You read his pamphlet.¡±


    ¡°Yes, mum.¡± The way she spoke made me think she had more to say but decided not to share it.


    ¡°Then it was unwise for you to visit. It¡¯s likely my staff has read it as well.¡±


    She turned crimson.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t you want me to pay his grandfather? Is he not your husband¡¯s master?¡±


    She shook her head, agitated. ¡°My husband did the work without any instruction or aid, yet his grandfather will take the great share, leaving us with a pittance. It¡¯s unjust.¡±


    So it was. ¡°Is that why your husband became a reporter?¡±


    Her head drooped. ¡°His grandfather would have nothing to do with him so long as we were Bridgers.¡± She paused, rubbing her ring finger. ¡°My husband believed he could do good work at the Bridges Daily ...¡±


    ¡°But ...¡±


    Mrs. Pike didn¡¯t meet my eye. ¡°It¡¯s corrupt; real news never sees daylight. It¡¯s what the Families want printed, nothing more.¡±


    She was such a foolish girl ¡ª much too trusting. I hoped she survived long enough to see her baby grown. ¡°Mr. Pike was right to leave if he felt unable to do good work there.¡±


    She finished her cake, drained her cup. ¡°May I have more?¡±


    I smiled at her. ¡°Have as much as you wish.¡± She reminded me of Tenni, with thin arms and a child¡¯s honesty.


    Mrs. Pike put a second piece of cake on her plate and slathered it with butter.


    ¡°How did you and Mr. Pike meet?¡±


    She blushed. ¡°We grew up together, mum. In the Bridgers. It¡¯s our way.¡± She took a deep breath. ¡°It¡¯s a blessing, being as I am.¡±


    ¡°Whatever do you mean?¡±


    She snorted in amusement. ¡°I know what I am: an ugly woman. Don¡¯t deny it! Here, I¡¯m a pitiable creature, secretly ridiculed and scorned. Ugly women are doomed to live at home as a burden to their fathers, or sent off to try to join the Dealers. But in the Bridgers, it¡¯s the pretty girls have the most trouble. All the men want them, yet none are allowed to pay them court.¡± She gazed off to the side. ¡°Most pretty ones run off. But I had many suitors.¡± She smiled to herself. ¡°I could pick any I wanted.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°You get to pick?¡±


    ¡°Of course! We receive the man¡¯s attentions, bear the children, raise them, keep the home ¡ª it would be cruel to force a man on us we didn¡¯t want! That¡¯s why I¡¯m so blessed.¡± She smiled, pride clear on her face. ¡°I chose the best, the kindest, the most righteous man of them all.¡± Her expression became fierce. ¡°And I won¡¯t have him toyed with, by you or anyone else.¡±


    Oh, dear. I might need Mr. Pike in the future. ¡°I most sincerely apologize for any distress I¡¯ve caused.¡± There! That should mollify her. ¡°As a token of goodwill, I¡¯ll pay him for his work, at your grandfather¡¯s stated rate. I recall the paper Doyle Pike presented to me the day I sat in his office. It said, ¡®For retrieval of documents: ten dollars,¡¯ did it not?¡±


    ¡°Ten dollars?¡± Her eyes widened in dumbfounded wonder, as if learning she had hit the jackpot at our casino. ¡°Oh, thank you, mum. Thank you so much.¡±

 Chapter 3: The Ace of Clubs - Round 24: The Investigation

    The next morning, the Bridges Daily had an article on page 3:


    Warehouse Manager Found Shot


    I stared at the few lines about Joe and Josie¡¯s uncle. He was forty. The police thought he surprised a robber.


    First Marja, then Joe and Josie¡¯s uncle. How many more people would die for their connection to me?


    At breakfast, I showed the paper to Tony. ¡°He worked for the Clubbs. Marja worked for him.¡±


    Tony frowned. ¡°Do you think this is related?¡±


    ¡°Tony, he¡¯s Joe¡¯s uncle. Marja overheard something in his warehouse and tried to warn me and now they¡¯re both dead. I don¡¯t know what to think.¡±


    Tony peered at the paper. ¡°It says here the man¡¯s name was Shigo Rei. You say he was Joe¡¯s uncle?¡±


    ¡°Josie said it.¡± She also said the man changed his name to hide the fact that he was a Kerr. An investigation into his past might harm others in his family. ¡°Maybe the man was their mother¡¯s brother.¡± In either case, this would make him a Pot rag too. How did he get a job working as a manager?


    Tony sat, hand to his chin. ¡°I should never have involved the police. This is a Family matter.¡± He shook his head. ¡°I have too much to do right now to deal with this. I¡¯ll have Ten assist you.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± I said, both surprised and hesitant.


    Tony grinned. ¡°You might need another gun. Or a fist, should it come to that. There may be a time where a huge group won¡¯t do, and I¡¯ll feel better knowing he¡¯s looking after you.¡±


    Interesting. So Sawbuck wasn¡¯t just Tony¡¯s right hand man, but his enforcer as well.


    * * *


    Right after morning meeting, we left for Market Center.


    The courthouse on Market Center was an imposing white edifice which sat upon a base of red brick, almost obscured by the press of the crowd. Shouting reporters, camera-men flashing their photos, men calling out words, shaking their fists, holding up banners in support or derision.


    Our men made us a path. Black wrought-iron banisters guided us up the white stone steps to a grand hall whose doors stood open beyond majestic pillars. Inside, an expansive lobby tiled in golden stone teemed with people. Our guards pushed through the throng, who parted more readily than those outside. We climbed the wide curving steps to our left, to a private room where we might observe the proceedings. It did most resemble the boxes at the Opera House.


    So many people sat down below that I felt afraid at the thought of being called before them. A man spoke loud and eloquent from a podium on the lower level, with a group of men seated on a raised stage before him intently listening. The room itself was lit brightly, but no lights shown on the box itself, throwing us into relative darkness.


    The Hart Family sat in front of us, the Clubbs beyond them in front of the Diamonds. None seemed to notice our presence.


    The Diamond Family sat on the far side of our assigned row, with Jon closest. He focused on the proceedings, apparently unaware of our entry. I glanced at Tony, who smiled. ¡°Go ahead.¡±


    So I moved to sit by Jonathan Diamond. While grateful that I didn¡¯t have to sit near Gardena, or worse yet, her dreadful oldest brother Cesare, for the first time I felt uneasy in Jon¡¯s presence. His mad twin Jack Diamond was absent, for which I felt relieved.


    My procession down the row caught the attention of the Diamonds; they glanced over yet did not rise. I folded my hands in my lap and watched the spectacle before me. I didn¡¯t understand most of what was being said, but the man at the podium seemed enraged.


    ¡°I must speak with you,¡± Jon whispered.


    I didn¡¯t move. ¡°Why did you lie to me?¡±


    Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him lean forward. ¡°I have loved you more dearly than you know, Mrs. Spadros ¡ª¡±


    He¡¯d never called me that in a private conversation before, and it stung.


    ¡°¡ª but if you chide me now, when I was forced to choose between the life of my sister and a possible insult to your feelings, then ... you¡¯re a different woman than I thought.¡±


    I felt ashamed of myself. ¡°Forgive me.¡±


    He didn¡¯t speak for some time, and I sat in misery, hearing nothing that was said. Of course, Jon was right. He¡¯d always spoken truth to me, which was why his deception cut me so deeply. It felt as if a support had dropped from under me, a betrayal on top of all the others which composed my life.


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    Yet what if he had told me the truth in February? Who might have been listening? What might Roy Spadros do to Gardena and little Roland? Gardena might now be dead at Roy¡¯s hand, with Roland a hostage, the Diamond Family helpless to stop whatever Roy might do to or with the child.


    I wiped my eyes with my handkerchief and sighed. ¡°You¡¯re right, as you always are.¡±


    ¡°I care nothing about being right. Only about those I hold dear.¡± He paused. ¡°Which is why I must speak to you.¡±


    ¡°Speak, then.¡±


    Judith Hart turned round and glared at us.


    ¡°Not here,¡± he whispered.


    Another man stood up, burns on his face. He spoke of loading the cargo, described the zeppelin lifting off, his shock and pain after the tremendous explosion which followed. The chamber, full of people, stood silent during his speech. After he spoke, the crowd murmured, some applauding.


    Then a man in the center of those on the stage struck a small hammer on a block of wood. ¡°We shall recess until 3 pm.¡±


    I gave Tony a questioning glance, and he said, ¡°Luncheon.¡±


    Was it that late already? The clock to the wall at our right chimed noon, and I stood, laughing. ¡°Long luncheon.¡±


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Jon said from behind.


    I followed Tony along the row and out to the hallway. Roy and Molly were already partway down the stair.


    Jon grabbed my arm and pulled me aside, out of sight of the stair. Tony followed.


    ¡°There¡¯s too much you don¡¯t know,¡± Jon said to us. ¡°Have you conferred with your attorneys?¡±


    ¡°Some,¡± Tony said. ¡°But they¡¯ve told us nothing, other than their assurances that the inquest goes well.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not going well at all,¡± Jon said. ¡°I¡¯m not allowed to speak with your attorneys,¡± he glanced around, ¡°and as Keeper of the Court, I shouldn¡¯t be seen speaking with you either.¡±


    ¡°Jon, whatever are you talking about?¡±


    Tony shook his head, finger to his lips.


    ¡°Admit no fault in this whatsoever,¡± Jon said. ¡°I wish you could deny being there, but it¡¯s too late for that now.¡± He turned to me. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have laughed up there in the box. Too many people saw you. Keep a sober demeanor when in public from now on. Say only what the lawyers tell you to. Your life depends on it.¡±


    ¡°But why?¡±


    Cesare Diamond called sharply from down the stairs, ¡°Jon!¡±


    Tony¡¯s jaw tightened, but he said nothing.


    Jon glanced towards his brother¡¯s voice. ¡°I must go. Did you get my letter?¡±


    ¡°Yes, but ¡ª¡±


    ¡°Just heed what I wrote and all will be well.¡± He hurried off as fast as he ever did, which was a moderately rapid walk.


    Oh, gods, I thought. I burned the letter. ¡°Jon, wait!¡±


    Tony put his hand on my arm. ¡°Leave it be, Jacqui.¡±


    ¡°But Tony ¡ª¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s Keeper of the Court, Jacqui. He mustn¡¯t be seen to favor us. The lawyers can answer any questions you have.¡±


    I shook my head. I didn¡¯t even know what to ask.


    What had I gotten myself into?


    * * *


    When we returned home, I had Pearson find Sawbuck and ask him to attend me at his convenience. After getting changed, I found the scrap of paper Marja held in her hand when I found her dead, and brought it to my study.


    Spread out upon the desk, it was the size of my palm. Dirty, with smudged pencil scratches upon it, the scrap had been ripped from cheap paper. Newsprint?


    I remembered Mr. Blackberry telling me that Dame Anastasia and someone fitting Frank Pagliacci¡¯s description were in the Bridges Daily giving Mr. Durak their false interview. They could have gotten a piece of newsprint from there.


    But I couldn¡¯t read whatever might be written on it.


    I held the paper up to the light. A knock came at the door.


    ¡°Come in,¡± I said.


    Sawbuck stuck his head in. ¡°You wanted to see me?¡±


    I put the paper down. ¡°Yes! Please come in.¡±


    Sawbuck pulled a chair over, sitting across my desk from me. Which felt strange.


    I said, ¡°We need to talk.¡±


    He bit his lip and nodded, not meeting my eye. ¡°I realize what you must think. But I¡¯ve not betrayed you.¡±


    I let out an amused laugh. ¡°That wasn¡¯t why I called you. But I¡¯m curious: how did you come to be here?¡±


    Sawbuck smiled fondly. ¡°Aunt Molly has ever doted on me. Even as a small boy I visited often.¡± He pointed over his shoulder. ¡°I used to bounce on that sofa. I don¡¯t recall Mr. Anthony¡¯s birth, but they tell me I was taken with him even then.¡±


    ¡°You were what, six?¡±


    ¡°I suppose. After Master Roy Acevedo was murdered, Mr. Anthony¡¯s father chose me as his protector.¡±


    ¡°A boy of eight?¡±


    ¡°I was large for my age, yet as a child, I could be at his side where men might not be allowed.¡± He shrugged. ¡°Perhaps it was too much responsibility. But here he is, alive still.¡±


    ¡°And here you are.¡±


    ¡°And here I am. Alive still.¡± He gave a wry grin. ¡°Which is some feat in Bridges.¡±


    Especially as someone opposed to Roy. But perhaps Roy let Sawbuck live, knowing every day spent beside the man he loved but unable to speak of it would be torture. I nodded.


    ¡°What can I do for you, Mrs. Spadros?¡±


    ¡°Has Roy Spadros said anything about our driver¡¯s death?¡±


    Sawbuck sat motionless, staring at me. ¡°No, he hasn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Or our visit to the Harts?¡±


    His jaw dropped. ¡°You don¡¯t think ¡ª¡±


    ¡°That he had our driver shot? No. But with the way he feels about the Harts ¡ª¡±


    Sawbuck let out a breath. ¡°He might leave Mr. Anthony to his own devices. As punishment.¡±


    ¡°I thought so.¡± I tapped my pen on the blotter, laid it down. ¡°So we¡¯re on our own.¡±


    ¡°Until the old codger decides a new torture is more fun.¡±


    ¡°Indeed.¡± I held up the paper. ¡°This was in Marja¡¯s hand when we found her.¡± I handed it to him. ¡°Can you see anything?¡±


    Sawbuck scrutinized it, held it up to the light. He shook his head. ¡°Nothing.¡± Then his eyes narrowed, and he sniffed it.


    ¡°Onion?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± he said, handing it back.


    I sniffed the paper but didn¡¯t smell anything. This had to be in her hand for a reason. ¡°Let¡¯s try anyway.¡±


    I went to an electric lamp and turned it on, placing the paper over the bulb. A message began to appear in brown. ¡°Not onion.¡± A caramel odor wafted through the room. ¡°Sugar water.¡±


    The writing was tiny, block-printed:


    I KNEW YOU¡¯D FIGURE THIS OUT.


    I BELIEVE YOU TOO DANGEROUS


    TO KEEP ALIVE. BUT I NEED HIM.


    SINCE HE WANTS YOU, WE¡¯RE BOUND


    TO EACH OTHER A WHILE LONGER.


    He? He who?


    WHEN I¡¯VE DESTROYED THE SPADROS FAMILY,


    WE¡¯LL KILL THEM. THEN WE¡¯LL TAKE THE CITY


    AND YOU WON¡¯T STOP IT. YOU¡¯RE MAKING THIS


    A CHALLENGE. SO I¡¯LL GIVE THIS ADVICE:


    DON¡¯T CHASE OUTSIDERS.


    YOUR FED WILL BE DEAD


    SOON ENOUGH.

 Chapter 3: The Ace of Clubs - Round 25: The Trouble

    I frowned, shaking my head, and handed the scrap to Sawbuck. Why go to the trouble of leaving this message? And why speak of Zia ¡ª who I did chase down, but she got the worst of that encounter ¡ª as if she were my ally?


    ¡°He¡¯s playing with you,¡± Sawbuck said. ¡°I¡¯ve seen this sort before. Fancies himself a master criminal. Likely he¡¯s a cold-blooded killer who¡¯s read too many spy novels.¡± He snorted. ¡°But who¡¯s the Fed? Someone after Master Rainbow?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°A woman ¡ª¡±


    Sawbuck raised an eyebrow.


    ¡°¡ª named Zia Cashout. Pretty, with red hair. They worked together. But he didn¡¯t know she was a Fed until her friends tried to kill him. He thinks they destroyed his boat.¡±


    ¡°Well, if that¡¯s not the strangest thing I¡¯ve ever heard, I don¡¯t know what is,¡± Sawbuck said. ¡°How do you know her?¡±


    I went back to my desk. How much could I trust Sawbuck? ¡°Master Rainbow introduced her first as his maid, then his sister. She was with him when he brought me to rescue the boy.¡±


    Sawbuck nodded.


    ¡°But later she made it clear she was in league with Frank Pagliacci.¡± In love with him might be more accurate. I pointed to the paper. ¡°Which makes this puzzling.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps they¡¯ve had a falling-out,¡± Sawbuck said. ¡°And you¡¯ve not heard from her since?¡±


    I shook my head.


    ¡°Wait,¡± Sawbuck said. ¡°This is the woman the police think you knifed on Market Center.¡±


    Why did I mention her name? ¡°So my husband did tell you.¡±


    Sawbuck chuckled. ¡°Did you really knife her?¡±


    ¡°Not intentionally.¡± It was the first time I¡¯d actually cut anyone. ¡°If I¡¯d have known she was a Fed, though ....¡±


    Sawbuck leaned forward. ¡°Why do you keep lying to him? What haven¡¯t you told us?¡±


    I sighed. ¡°None of it matters now. I was trying to help Dame Anastasia, and ... well, now she¡¯s dead.¡±


    Pearson knocked. ¡°Two packages for you, mum.¡±


    In the hall, a big bouquet of lavender sat next to a package addressed to me. Inside were two thick round white candles, six inches long, carved on the surface as if covered with lace. There was no return address or note. ¡°Where did these come from?¡±


    ¡°There was no card on the flowers, mum,¡± Pearson said. ¡°Perhaps the messenger lost it. Where would you like them?¡±


    ¡°In the parlor, please.¡± I detested lavender, and white was my least favorite color. But it was so rare for anyone to send me a gift that I didn¡¯t have the heart to throw them away.


    Thunder rolled in the distance. I went to the front door and opened it. The air smelled of rain.


    ¡°Mrs. Spadros,¡± Tony said behind me, ¡°would you assist me?¡± Tony had shed his coat and hat, and rolled up his sleeves.


    I laughed. I¡¯d never seen him like this. He appeared ready to engage in some physical labor, which of course we had servants for. ¡°Whatever with?¡±


    ¡°Come,¡± he said, and took my hand.


    I glanced over my shoulder. ¡°Thanks for your help, Ten. We''ll speak on this matter another time.¡±


    Sawbuck grinned at me. ¡°My pleasure.¡±


    Tony led me through the house and out to the back gardens, where a target stood ready. ¡°You must teach me to shoot.¡±


    ¡°Me? Can¡¯t Ten teach you?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s tried.¡± Clouds scudded past overhead, while black storm-clouds loomed in the distance. ¡°I thought maybe ...¡±


    I smiled. ¡°Very well. First, you must put in earplugs.¡±


    ¡°Already done.¡±


    He handed me some, which I put on. Then I brought him to the closest mark. ¡°Stand one foot in front. Your left should be good, since you¡¯re left-handed. Which eye do you see from?¡±


    Tony stared at me blankly. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°That might be your trouble. Hold a finger up to cover the middle of the target.¡±


    When Tony did so, I said, ¡°Watch the target. Close one eye, then the other. The finger which stays still is your sighting eye.¡±


    ¡°Oh!¡± Tony let his arm drop. ¡°Why did no one ever tell me?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Not everyone is good at explanation, I suppose.¡± Roy probably loved to see him fail. ¡°Now the gun.¡±


    I showed him how to stand, how to hold the gun. ¡°Now, it¡¯s going to be loud. Make everything else but the target go away.¡±


    Tony sounded out of breath. ¡°Very well.¡±


    ¡°Now slowly squeeze the trigger.¡±


    Hands trembling, he did so. ¡°I hit it!¡±


    I grinned at him. ¡°That you did.¡±


    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 ¡ª 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.


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    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 ¡ª except the arm ¡ª 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¡ª¡±


    ¡°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 ¡ª 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 ¡ª especially those associated with the deceased lady ¡ª 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 ¡ª¡±


    ¡°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.¡±

 Chapter 3: The Ace of Clubs - Round 26: 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 ¡ª 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¡±


    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 ¡ª Joe getting waylaid, Ma refusing to go, an unscrupulous ticket agent ¡ª I could lose everything I had saved these six years. But I couldn¡¯t leave Ma here ¡ª 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.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    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 ¡ª or perhaps his leader ¡ª 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 ¡ª 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.


    Madame came to greet the carriage, but ushered me and Honor inside without a word. For once, her office door stood open. Several racks were missing, and those that remained held a smaller selection. Did she have to sell some of her goods to pay her newly increased fees? I should have written to tell her that the men who attacked her weren¡¯t Spadros men, but impostors.


    She led me to my private dressing room. She ignored Honor, then dropped the curtain to shut him out. Tenni curtsied when I entered. My new dress hung on a rack in the corner.


    ¡°I hope you¡¯re well, Madame?¡±


    Madame gestured for Tenni to help me out of my dress. ¡°I¡¯m well, thank you.¡± Madame¡¯s manner was stiff, formal.


    ¡°Has anyone been back to hurt you?¡±


    ¡°No. They did not return.¡±


    ¡°I like your shop¡¯s new appearance. More open.¡±


    Madame gave a fake smile, not meeting my eye. ¡°Thank you.¡±


    Tenni helped me into my dress and the two of them began working on it in silence.


    I wondered what happened, but I didn¡¯t want to pry in case it was personal. ¡°I forgot to ask the last time I was here: I¡¯d like your recommendations on a new dressmaker.¡±


    Madame nodded. ¡°The list is on my desk.¡±


    ¡°Thank you. I appreciate your help.¡±


    The two continued to work their way around my dress without a word. When the entire dress was marked and pinned as Madame wished, she gestured for Tenni to help me out of it.


    Once I dressed, I said, ¡°Madame, may we speak privately?¡±


    ¡°Certainly.¡± She gestured to Tenni, who left through the back curtain. ¡°How may I help?¡±


    ¡°That was my question exactly,¡± I said. ¡°Clearly something is amiss. If I may help in some way ¡ª¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve done enough,¡± Madame snapped.


    I stared at her, shocked, hurt. ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s what has not happened which distresses me.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡±


    She glanced away and spoke bitterly. ¡°I¡¯m a foolish, foolish woman. I have never before given my regard so poorly.¡±


    I felt perplexed. ¡°Have I offended you?¡±


    Her head drooped, and she gave it a small shake. ¡°I know you don¡¯t share my feelings. But after all the years you have known me I thought you might have some instant of consideration for my injuries ¡ª¡± She shrugged. ¡°¡ª perhaps once write to inquire as to my health. Even if you saw me as a mere merchant ....¡±


    It had completely slipped my mind. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°You¡¯re not. It¡¯s clear now. How could I have been so blind? You used me, my shop, my friendship, even my regard. And when I needed you ¡ª when your husband and his men stood threatening ¡ª your first impulse was to run away. Abandon us, who have given so much. Your loyalty is only to yourself.¡± Madame turned away, hand to her forehead. ¡°I can¡¯t stay here anymore. Once this is sold, I¡¯m moving.¡±


    This shocked me. ¡°Moving? Where?¡±


    ¡°If you must know, I have bought a shop in Clubb quadrant. But I hope you will not visit.¡±


    Madame wished never to see me again? How could this be? Then I remembered the eggshells in front of her shop the other day. ¡°You no longer wish to be associated with me.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not what this is about, and you know it.¡± She sighed, her voice dropping to a whisper. ¡°I must leave. Your men will pursue me, but they won¡¯t attack once I¡¯m in Clubb quadrant.¡±


    ¡°But they weren¡¯t our men! They were impostors, dressed in our livery. Our men won¡¯t hurt you. My husband¡¯s given orders.¡±


    She stared at me, mouth open. Then her expression hardened. ¡°Even so. I will stay no longer.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯ll happen to Tenni? Her little sisters?¡±


    Madame shook her head. ¡°I have secured a position for Tenni at a shop nearby. She¡¯s of age now and may do as she likes.¡± She pointed at me. ¡°But you must not embroil her in your schemes any longer. The girl has suffered enough.¡±


    I pondered Madame¡¯s words, and how much they echoed Vig¡¯s, the night he helped me question Morton¡¯s young ¡°ace,¡± Clover. His misery as he said: You used me.


    Who is your loyalty to, Mrs. Spadros?


    Your loyalty is only to yourself.


    My heart crumbled. I used to know who I was. I used to know what to do. Spadros Manor had changed me. Being around these quadrant-folk had changed me. If I didn¡¯t get out of Bridges I feared it would destroy me. ¡°You¡¯re not the first to tell me such things.¡± Her eyes were as red as mine must have been. I did love you, if not as you wished. ¡°I¡¯ll trouble you no further.¡±


    I retrieved the list and left, wondering not whether she would forgive me, but whether I was worth forgiving.

 Chapter 3: The Ace of Clubs - Round 27: The Paper

    When I returned to Spadros Manor, Doyle Pike sat on the parlor sofa. But Mr. Pike sat as if he owned the Manor and everything in it. His clothes were as costly, his hair as immaculate, as when I saw him at his law office in February. He didn¡¯t rise when I entered.


    I took a few steps forward. ¡°May I help you?¡±


    ¡°Come in, sit down,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s time we had a chat.¡±


    I sat in a chair across the coffee table from him. ¡°Would you care for some tea?¡±


    He surveyed me. ¡°No, I don¡¯t think so.¡± He leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees. ¡°I did work for you ¡ª¡±


    I felt certain he hadn¡¯t lifted a finger: surely his grandson Thrace did every bit of it.


    ¡°¡ª and yet I¡¯ve not been paid.¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°We had an agreement. It isn¡¯t my fault you were unable to collect from them.¡±


    At this, Mr. Pike began to laugh. It was more of a cackle than a laugh, being a man of advancing age, yet it was merry. ¡°My dear, when a new man comes to apprentice, do you know the first thing I teach him?¡±


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t possibly.¡±


    He grinned his alligator grin. ¡°That a thing not written is nothing at all.¡± His grin faded. ¡°You see, we do not have an agreement. We never had an agreement. What we have is your word against mine.¡±


    ¡°You would fight Spadros Manor?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d wager your Mr. Spadros ¡ª pick either ¡ª knows nothing of our ¡®agreement¡¯. Am I right?¡±


    Fear gnawed at me. What could I say?


    ¡°So I believe now we can come to an agreement.¡± He leaned forward. ¡°This time, in writing.¡±


    ¡°What sort of an agreement?¡±


    ¡°Now I know how much these men owed Dame Louis, I know what my fee would have been had they paid their debts. I¡¯d like to have that money, but now she¡¯s dead, they have no incentive to pay.¡±


    ¡°I still don¡¯t see how that¡¯s any of my concern. You get them to pay, you can have it all.¡±


    He frowned. ¡°Because I sent them letters on behalf of Dame Anastasia Louis, the inquest has fixed its attention upon me. I testify tomorrow morning. Before your husband does, in fact. Who am I to say directed me to send these letters?¡±


    I stared at him in horror.


    His face became smugly amused. ¡°You see, this matter is entirely your concern. If I say you directed me to send these letters, it would lend credence to the idea that Spadros Manor acted as Dame Anastasia¡¯s enforcer. Imagine that ¡ª Spadros Manor coercing its own merchants to pay one of their friends when the merchants suspected fraud. That in itself might be enough to turn the quadrant against you. But then the question would arise: did the Spadros Family know the gems were false, and coerce their merchants to take them anyway?¡±


    Oh, gods, I thought. What have I done?


    ¡°If the Spadros Family was to do that to another quadrant, your people would cheer. But to turn against its own people ... ?¡±


    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    I felt trapped. ¡°What is it you want?¡±


    ¡°I testify that Dame Anastasia hired me directly. I never mention your name. In return, you pay me 1% of what they owed her as we agreed.¡±


    ¡°How much did they owe?¡±


    He handed over a paper, with a list, and a tally. The 1% was even calculated for me. It was ten times more than I¡¯d handed over to Joe. ¡°Where could I possibly get this kind of money?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s none of my concern.¡± He produced two papers for my signature. ¡°Do we have a deal?¡±


    The clock ticked. I heard a noise in the hall.


    I had to keep Mr. Pike from speaking against me. So I signed them both. Mr. Pike slid one across the table, putting the other in his briefcase. I folded my copy, sliding it in my pocket.


    The door opened; Tony walked in. He didn¡¯t so much as glance at Doyle Pike. ¡°Mrs. Spadros, may I speak with you?¡±


    I rose, heart pounding. ¡°Why, certainly. Please excuse me, Mr. Pike.¡± I followed Tony into the entryway.


    Tony snapped, ¡°Why is that man here?¡±


    I could have told Tony about Dame Anastasia¡¯s case and my predicament. Looking back, I probably should have. But the way he spoke angered me. ¡°I did tell you I had a lawyer.¡±


    Tony froze. ¡°This is a mistake, Jacqui. Do not ¡ª¡± He bit his lower lip, then said, ¡°You must not. I beg you, dismiss this man from your service at once.¡±


    A terrible thought came to me: Did either of them know about Thrace Pike¡¯s pamphlet? ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°The man is unprincipled. He¡¯s dangerous. I ¡ª I can¡¯t protect you from him, should it come to that.¡± He gasped, eyes widening in horror, and he gripped my hands. ¡°Have you signed anything?¡±


    Should I tell him? ¡°No, but ¡ª¡±


    ¡°Sign nothing until our lawyers see it. Please. Promise me?¡±


    Tony didn¡¯t trust Doyle Pike. Would he agree to pay such a sum? Certainly not.


    I smiled, relaxing. Joe and I would leave Bridges soon. No one would ever find us. If Tony didn¡¯t know about the agreement, and never became involved, no one would have to pay a thing. ¡°I promise. Be at peace; you have nothing to worry about.¡±


    Tony let out a breath. ¡°Thank the gods you see reason.¡± He pulled me close, kissed my forehead. ¡°You gave me a fright.¡±


    I hugged him, patted his arm. ¡°All is well.¡±


    We went back into the parlor. I said, ¡°Mr. Pike, send me what you have at your convenience, and I¡¯ll let you know what I decide.¡± My eyes flickered in Tony¡¯s direction.


    Mr. Pike stood, a small smile on his face. ¡°A pleasure doing business with you, madam.¡±


    We escorted him out. Tony still appeared uneasy. ¡°What did he mean, business?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Isn¡¯t that what all tradesmen say?¡±


    ¡°I suppose,¡± Tony said. He glanced around, he voice dropping to a whisper. ¡°But show me whatever he sends you. I must learn how much he knows. If news about Gardena and Roland were to surface ¡ª¡± he shook his head, ¡°I could be sent to the Prison.¡±


    I gaped at him, imagining the horrors which must be in such a place, with Jack Diamond as its Keeper. ¡°But why?¡±


    Tony put his hand to his forehead. ¡°Come with me.¡±


    We went to the gardens, then past them out to the meadow. When Rocket saw us, he followed, tail wagging. When we stopped, he lay down at our feet.


    This seemed a good place to speak privately, as there were no bushes to hide a listening ear. But we stood silent for a long time.


    ¡°Thank the gods certificates of birth aren¡¯t public record,¡± Tony said. ¡°Did you wonder why my son¡¯s certificate was cut?¡±


    ¡°I did.¡±


    Tony let out a breath. ¡°I almost don¡¯t know whether to be glad or afraid.¡±


    ¡°What is it?¡±


    He put his hand to his forehead, staring at the ground. ¡°In Bridges, a child¡¯s certificate has three boxes in the corner. Before them is a question: how came this birth? Marriage, whoredom ¡ª¡± he paused, and his face was white, his jaw tight. ¡°Or rape.¡±


    I gasped. ¡°Gardena called it rape?¡±


    He turned away, dropping his hand to his side. ¡°She says her father snatched the paper from her, marking it over her protests.¡± He ran his hands through his hair. ¡°But I don¡¯t know what other outcome I would want. I couldn¡¯t marry her ¡ª I was betrothed to you, and my father would have it no other way.¡±


    Why did Roy insist on our marriage? I never had found the answer to that. Did Tony even know?


    ¡°I couldn¡¯t let Gardena and Roland be sent to the Pot. What kind of life would that be? What torments would they endure?¡± He shook his head. ¡°I¡¯d already seen what growing up there did to you.¡± He turned away. ¡°I couldn¡¯t go to my father. He¡¯d have killed her, or taken my son as hostage, or perhaps both. Whatever he thought would hurt me most.¡± He paused for a long time, and when he spoke, he sounded desolate. ¡°And I couldn¡¯t let her be sent to another city. I¡¯d never see her again.¡±


    He still loves her, after everything that¡¯s happened.


    I kissed Tony¡¯s hand. ¡°You couldn¡¯t bear to see it written.¡±


    Tony shook his head, staring at the ground.


    Moved at his suffering, I hugged him, eyes closed, trying not to weep. What would he do when I was gone?