Lady Golden Hand

by Nix Whittaker

  Everett said behind her, “That was spectacular. Highly entertaining and you’ll be the talk of society for a whole ten minutes. Mother has gone for the carriage. If you want to get out of here without more talk you need to move.”

  Rayne finally took in the carnage of the ballroom. It was almost deserted with people huddled in fear on the opposite side. There was a flurry of activity from the servants and the host who tried to calm down their guests. As Rayne passed the guests there was a whisper of ‘lady golden hand.’ She clenched her mechanical hand against the urge to hide her disfigurement.

  Once in the carriage her mother said, “Well, that was spectacular.” Everett grunted with agreement as he also joined them in the carriage. Duchess Ancaster seemed unaware she had echoed her son’s sentiment on the whole fiasco though Rayne doubted her mother meant it that way.

  Rayne buried her face in her hands and said, “I’ll never be able to live that down.”

  Everett snorted. “It only adds to your legend, Lady Golden Hand.”

  “Don’t call me that.” Rayne snapped.

  “Why not? It suits you.” Everett poked her prosthetic hand and she recoiled and glared at his juvenile teasing.

  “It only focuses on my mutilation not on what I am capable of.” The shocked silence in the carriage had her remembering their mother was there and she didn’t appreciate the self-deprecating humour she and her brother shared.

  “Sorry,” He said sufficiently contrite as he acknowledged that he had instigated the banter.

  “You are not mutilated.” But there was a brokenness to their mother’s voice. If Rayne didn’t know her mother had a core of steel she would have thought her mother was truly affected. Instead, this was just her usual attempt to manipulate her strong willed children into behaving. Rayne slumped back in the squibs and decided silence was the better part of valour.

  When they got home, their mother hurried up to bed while Everett suggested, “Father’s stash?” They made their way through the orangery to their father’s office. The large desk was looking a little neglected as their father mostly worked from the much more comfortable couch than his desk.

  There was one place clear of clutter and with a little pressure to one of the carved roses and a click it revealed a hidden compartment.

  Everett lifted the lid and passed her a piece of chocolate wrapped in waxed paper. She sat down on her father’s couch and unwrapped the small candy. Everett also flopped down next to her. Rayne asked as she eyed the chocolate and considered the best way to consume it.

  “Do you think I’m an embarrassment to the family?” she asked honestly.

  “Yes and no,” he prevaricated.

  “That isn’t comforting.” She peeled back the wrapper. The chocolate was shaped into a small rose.

  “Others seem to be embarrassed by what you do, so in that way you are an embarrassment. The rest of us couldn’t care less. It isn’t like any of it is your fault.”

  “What about becoming a policewoman? That was my choice.” There had been a whole slew of reproach from the society mothers when she had decided to have a career.

  Everett was quiet as he thought, when he spoke it wasn’t what she had thought he was contemplating. “What made you do that? I mean there are so many jobs you could have picked. Dad would have supported you no matter what you decided to do.”

  Rayne shrugged one shoulder. The whole conversation was making her uncomfortable as she had to take an intimate look at her own motivations. Especially as her brother would want more than the answers she gave to Larkin. “I needed to be useful. So many of society are mere ornaments. When I became broken and useless in their eyes it made me realise how useless it is to be an ornament. So I wanted to give back more than my looks or my pedigree,” she sneered the last, implying that she had no looks to be proud of in the first place.

  Everett bumped her shoulder with his own. “You are appealing and don’t ask me to say that again. It was hard enough the first time.”

  “What about you, Everett? Are you going to be an embarrassment?” This was asked with a much lighter touch. Her crisis of purpose had already passed and she was curious about the sadness she had seen in Everett’s eyes earlier in the evening.

  There was a smile in his voice as he said, “I think I might. I have to think on it a little more. I don’t know if I want to go back to school but I do know that I don’t want what dad is doing.” He waved to indicate their father’s office. “This is so staid for me. I think I would die looking at all those numbers for the rest of my life.”

  “It fits him though. Just find something that fits you and don’t care what others think.” That truth had been hard won for herself but had given her a sense of completeness that she wished everyone could figure out.

  He licked the melted chocolate off his fingers, having already consumed his. “As long as I am not useless?”

  “Yes. That is no fate for any of us. So are you going to tell me what happened at school?” It was still a month till the end of the year. He was missing out on the exams so this was no casual visit. She assumed he had been kicked out once again. There was a long pause and she wondered if he would tell her. Since their conversation had been filled with hope rather than bitterness she knew his future wasn’t what troubled him.

  “There is this girl. She is smarter than all the other boys and my professor wouldn’t teach her.” She must be pretty as well, as the wistful note in his voice was probably from a crush. “I thought I would show him. I went about it the wrong way.”

  “In what way? Wasn’t she grateful? Oh, she yelled at you didn’t she.” She struggled to keep her laughter inside and made a coughing sound instead.

  A sheepish look accompanied his reluctant answer, “Yes.”

  She mockingly sympathised with him in a singsong voice, “Oh, you poor baby.”

  “It was a stupid thing to do. I didn’t help the girl and all I did was get a mark on my record and sent home early.” He groaned dramatically. “They always threaten me with my record as if it will follow me everywhere. No one will see it once I leave school. The rumours will have more lasting effect.” Records. He was right about their penchant for writing everything down in their society. She wondered if there were any records about Eleanor’s death.

  Chapter Four

  Fields stopped her by calling across the foyer, “Miss Ancaster, have you had a chance to see to your weapon?” His voice raised enough to cross the distance but also making it possible for everyone else in the office to hear.

  Rayne crossed to Fields in the hope he would lower his voice. “Yes, I did, sir. Thank you for providing the cleaning cloths.”

  He sniffed. “It’s a good weapon and should be treated with respect. Did your father provide it?”

  “My mother, actually. She’s the one who taught me to shoot.” Her mother had grown up in the country and her father, who had no sons, had taken her along and taught her how to take care of the land. Which included protecting it from brigands and thieves.

  “So you were trained by a woman. What kind of accuracy do you have?” His tone made it clear he thought her teacher was not qualified.

  “I can hit what I want to if I’m within fifty feet or so but after that I’d be lucky to hit anything.” He wrinkled his nose obviously not impressed with her honesty.

  She shrugged and said, “It is the flintlock, sir. I’d rather have a rifle any day.”

  “Rifle? What kind of rifle? Some are much more superior than others.” His tone changed to one of interest. Everyone knew the way to Fields was through the armoury.

  “I haven’t done much study but my mother got me a Hawken when she got me the flintlock. I much prefer that but I can hardly wander around Londinium with a Hawken on my arm.” He grunted, begrudgingly agreeing. There were strict rules about which guns could be carried in the city. Most folk didn’t have any access to weapons. The dragons didn’t like them as they were one of the few weapons that could kill a dragon. Though t
hat theory hadn’t been tested as the invention of the gun had come after the signing of the treaty between dragons and humans.

  Rayne shifted uncomfortably. There were several people watching avidly, as it was unusual for Fields to engage her in a conversation.

  They expected Fields to dress her down. That was the only time he ever bothered to single her out. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and said, “You’ll have to bring it in one day for me to inspect. Maybe rifles should be kept on the premises just in case.” He waved his hand in dismissal and Rayne used it as permission to dash up the stairs to the archives and escape the speculative looks of the other investigators.

  The archives were a small room at the top of the building. A single table in the middle was set aside to peruse the documents as they weren’t to leave the room. The walls were filled with shelves and books. On the table was the book that would direct her to the different records. Rayne had barely opened the book that directed people around the archives when she was interrupted.

  “What are you doing in here?” Maynes asked Rayne.

  She looked up from the archived records and said, “I’m looking for the notes on an old case. I’m not sure if it is even here.” Maynes pushed her aside to replace her at the cabinet.

  “What case are you looking for?” His tone sharp. Rayne wanted to tell him she could find it herself if this was an inconvenience but Maynes so far was the only superior willing to work with her besides her godfather. If he refused to deal with her like Fields did then she would unlikely be given any cases. Or relegated to nuisance cases. She knew the only reason her and Larkin had been given his particular case was because no one had actually believed it was a real body.

  So she bit her tongue and instead moderated her tone to a pleasant one and said, “The murder of a woman called Eleanor. She was the wife of the dragon, Victor.”

  Maynes’ hands paused but he went unerringly through the files, as he said, “That was early days. Before even the police force. We have records on it as the Bow Street runners had notes on the cases that we inherited. I remember it. I was a young barrister back then. Worked as a personal assistant for a politician. Messy business. They never found anyone guilty. Though I think the dragon did it personally. Vile creatures.” He flicked through the folder and ran his finger down the reference list. He then went off further into the archives.

  He spoke as he worked, “Any time you involve dragons things get messy. I don’t know why they don’t leave us humans alone. I know the Empress is related to a dragon but that doesn’t mean the rest of them have to stick their nose into government.” He brought out a book and laid it on top of the table at the page noted in the catalogue.

  “Make sure this doesn’t leave the room.” Maynes huffed in exasperation. Rayne could have found the file herself but pretending to need his help would prevent a conflict as Maynes would have been more upset if she had rejected his assistance. It confused her that people thought women were weaker when they insisted on doing everything for them in the first place. Rayne merely shook her head and picked up the book.

  There wasn’t much there, the names of the people involved and the address for the dragon, which was helpful. She would see if she could interview him and find out if he could shed some light on it all. The ring obviously was his dead wife’s and for the dead man to have it on him he would have been involved in the original murder. The clues weren’t many but they did lead down a path that she could follow. The interesting part was the name Sebastian. He was the man who was implicated for the murder but had been pardoned by the Governor. There had to be something there for politics to be involved in the outcome. Considering Maynes attitude towards the dragon there might have been some evidence that was uncovered later that pointed towards Victor.

  Larkin found her still in the archive. “There’s a Lady here to meet you.” The capital letter on Lady meant it was not just a run of the mill lady.

  “A Lady?” Ladies rarely entered the confines of Scotland Yard and when they did, it was to see people like Charles Rowan, her godfather and one of the leaders of the police force. They were never there to see her.

  “Yeah, Lady Beechworth.” Rayne quickly returned the file to the cabinet and went to the small office she shared with Larkin. Lady Beechworth looked at the newspapers framed on the wall. They were her most famous cases. The wall was pretty much empty except for the three newspaper articles.

  Larkin’s side of the office had more as he had served longer than her. She had taken the tradition from him. When they had been working together for six months she bought him a stack of frames for him to frame his newspapers. It was from then that Larkin had accepted her as his partner instead of the annoying woman foisted onto him by his superiors.

  Lady Beechworth spun to face her with her skirts flaring as she did. “A bit gory, this pastime of yours.” The articles had been accompanied by some gruesome sketches. Entirely inaccurate but Rayne assumed it was to sell newspapers rather than to be informative.

  “More than a bit gory. What brings you here, Lady Beechworth?” Rayne hoped it had nothing to do with the night before and the rigmarole that had happened at the ball.

  “A bit of a scandal, actually. I thought I’d come to see you as you would know just how important it is to keep this all silent.” Rayne motioned for Lady Beechworth to take a seat. She settled and smoothed her skirts nervously. This comforted Rayne as she recognised the movements of a typical female client. Rayne silently offered her a cup of tea. Lady Beechworth mumbled a thank you. She had almost finished the cup before she spoke again.

  She didn’t prevaricate at all. “You see I’m being blackmailed.” In the tone of telling her that the weather would be cloudy it left Rayne a little shocked.

  “Blackmailed? Surely you haven’t done anything of note.” Lady Beechworth was her mother’s age. She doubted she had the energy to get into the kind of trouble that would benefit a blackmailer.

  Lady Beechworth waved it off and added, “A little youthful indiscretion. Unfortunately, this behaviour is tolerated in men but not in women. My girls are at an age where this could be very damaging. So I hired a man to make inquiries. He uncovered an address. But now he refuses to do anything about it.”

  Lady Beechworth dug out a small scrap of paper from her reticule sitting on her lap. “Here is the address where the blackmailer lives.” She reached over the desk with the slip of paper between two of her glove covered fingers.

  Rayne accepted the paper as she asked, “Why the caution on your investigator’s part? He must be decent to have uncovered this.”

  “Apparently the man is an ex-police officer. The investigator is hesitant to step on any toes.” The department had only been an entity for less than three years. For someone to first have a career as an officer and to lose that career meant he was probably notorious. She would ask Larkin later as he had been working longer than her and actually spoke with the other investigators. She hadn’t made friends amongst the others but it would be suicide to go after a former officer without finding out all she knew about the situation. If he was liked by the other officers and she arrested him she would become a pariah amongst her colleagues. Well, more of a pariah.

  Lady Beechworth knew her standing in the department was precarious. “But I’m bulletproof from scandal?” Rayne asked incredulous.

  “Yes, your godfather is Charles Rowan. You can’t be fired. So frankly dear, you are bulletproof.” Her job, yes, but any relationship she might vaguely have with the other officers would die an early death.

  Rayne smoothed out the note with the address under her hand and said, “I’ll look in to it.”

  Lady Beechworth beamed. “You are a dear.”

  Lady Beechworth had barely left when Fields entered with a large rifle.

  He laid it on her table. “I heard your suspect is a dragon. You’ll be needing this. Make sure you shoot him when he is in his human form. Hiding a dragon body is problematic with the treaty.” How he had known
she was going to question Victor was an amazing show of gossip in the department. Maynes must have mentioned which file she was looking at and jumped to some conclusions based on the drama at the ball the other night.

  Fields laid a case of shells on the table next to the gun. He nodded to her and left. Rayne was speechless. The gun was big enough to take down an elephant, the prey it was most likely made for.

  Killing Victor would be more than problematic as she wasn’t sure he was the right suspect. There were too many holes in any of her theories. Besides why would a dragon leave a body in the first place if he was the one who had murdered the mutilated man in the alleyway? Fields should have advocated for a trial but again that was also more than problematic. A human government daring to give judgement on a dragon would upset both the Empire and the dragons.

  Larkin walked in and tested the rifle by lifting it up to his shoulder and closing an eye to imitate taking a shot. He returned it to the desk with a click of his tongue in admiration.

  “A beauty. Is that one of Fields? He treats those like babies. He must have started to trust you if he is lending you one of his babies.” Rayne wasn’t sure she was pleased by this development in her relationship with Fields. She preferred it when he avoided her because of girl cooties or something else equally ridiculous.

  She glared at Larkin who put up his hands in defence. “I know that look. Rosie looks at me like that when I say something stupid.”

  “Rosie?”

  Larkin blushed which was a sight to see. There was little that embarrassed Larkin. He shuffled his feet and admitted reluctantly, “My girl. She works in the shop on Masters.”

  “Good on you, Larkin. You deserve a good lady.” She really meant it but it also jarred her version of the world. Larkin was her work partner and she had never seen him as a possible mate. For someone else to see him that way merely surprised her though it shouldn’t.

  Rayne reached for the rifle to put it away, using her metal hand. It ground with a screech that had her wincing in audible pain. Larkin tugged on his ear, pretending he hadn’t been hurt by the sound. “Needs to be looked at, I think.”