by C. J. Archer
Matt handed the man some coins. “We’re looking for the tenants of that building.”
“Ain’t no tenants,” the man said.
“What about squatters?”
He crossed his arms.
“We’re not the police,” Matt said. “We’re looking for my cousin. She was kidnapped and we have reason to believe she was brought here by the building’s owner.”
“The owner?” another man echoed. “Tell him to get a proper lock on the door and fix the windows or just bloody well fix the whole building. The children keep going in, despite our warnings, and they get hurt on the nails and broken glass. It ain’t safe.”
“I’ll tell him,” Matt said, “but I need to find my cousin first. She was kidnapped by a man and a woman. Have you seen them here?”
“Nope. You’re the first stranger ‘round here today.”
“Can we look inside?”
The man shrugged.
Matt took one of the lanterns we’d brought with us from the factory and we entered the building along with Duke. The smell hit me like a punch to the throat. I covered my mouth with my hand but it didn’t hide the stench of urine and vomit. I wanted to lift my skirts to keep the hem from touching the filth, but I didn’t want to remove my hand from my mouth either.
“Watch your step,” Matt warned as he nudged the toe of his boot against something on the floor. It wasn’t a rolled-up rug, as I first thought, but the sleeping form of a drunkard. Going by his soft snore, he was alive.
We kept together and inspected each room, all the way up to the attic and back again. Downstairs, we tapped on floorboards with our boots, checking for hollow spaces. We found a cellar but the stairs had rotted away. Matt thrust the lamp in as far as he could reach.
“Empty,” he announced.
“The whole damn place is empty,” Duke muttered. “She ain’t here.”
We left, thanked the men warming themselves by the brazier, and returned to the carriage where Woodall waited. He didn’t look in the least ruffled at being left alone in a dangerous area.
“Anyone bother you?” Matt asked him.
“Aye, but they soon left.” Woodall flipped back his great coat to reveal a pistol on his lap. “Where to now, sir?”
Matt gave him the address of the second property, the one Mrs. Moreton had thought was untenanted but paperwork showed it to be rented. “It’s worth a try,” Matt said as he settled back in the cabin.
“Anything’s worth a try.” Duke removed his gloves and blew on his hands. “It’s getting late.”
“It’s not even nine,” I said. “We have time.”
I was pleased that I sounded confident. I needed to, for their sakes. They were both terribly worried. As worried as me. But I wouldn’t let my fear get the better of me. Not yet when we still had a few hours left. One of us had to remain calm.
Besides, I might be required to order Woodall to drive us to Bunn’s workshop at a moment’s notice. It was my decision to make, and mine alone, and I would need my wits about me to make it at the right time. Too soon and we might not explore all our options in finding Willie. Too late and…well, it would be too late.
We found the second house in a better state than the first. It faced the street, not a yard, and all the windows and the front door appeared to be intact.
“I can’t see a light,” I said. “But the curtains appear to be shut. Perhaps someone’s home.”
Duke marched up to the door and tried the handle. “Locked.”
Matt peered up at the second-floor windows. “Look for another way in.”
“You can’t break in,” I hissed. “People could live here.”
“I reckon it’s deserted.” Duke looked around. “There’s someone over there. We could ask him.”
“Stay here,” Matt ordered Duke and me.
He strode off towards the man lounging in the doorway. The man pushed off from the door, whistled shrilly then set off at a run. Matt chased him.
Duke swore and went to run off too. “India, stay with Woodall!”
I tugged my cloak tighter at my throat and glanced at the tenement. This had to be it. Willie must be inside, and that man had whistled to alert the occupants of company. It could have even been Mr. Bunn himself.
I raced back to the carriage. “Woodall, give me your pistol.”
The coachman gawped at me. “I don’t think that’s wise, ma’am.”
“Are you prepared to leave the horses and carriage unattended and accompany me inside with the gun?”
He bit his lip.
“I didn’t think so.” I held out my hand. “Give me the gun.”
“Mr. Glass won’t like it.”
“Mr. Glass’s cousin is inside. I’m sure of it. But her captors have been warned and could very well be exiting the house via a rear entrance as we speak.” I signaled for the pistol. “Hand it over immediately. That’s an order.”
He did. “Do you know how to use it?”
“Yes,” I said, trying to remember what Matt had taught me.
The first obstacle was getting inside the tenement. I had to break the door down. Hopefully being an old house and not in use, the lock would be weak. I gathered up my skirts and kicked.
It rattled but didn’t open.
I tried again and again. Each kick seemed to loosen the locking mechanism. I was about to try a fourth time when a gunshot sounded.
Glass broke and shattered on the pavement to my right.
Behind me, Woodall shouted for me to get back.
I covered my head and dashed away from the door, just as it burst open.
A woman tumbled out in a tangle of skirts and fell at my feet.
I gasped. “Willie!”
Chapter 6
Willie swore at the top of her voice. “God damned dress!”
I’d never been so happy to hear her foul language. I helped her to her feet and hugged her. She returned it briskly then grabbed my hand and dragged me to the carriage.
“They could still be inside,” she said. “Stay here, India, and I’ll check.”
“No!” I caught her wrist. “If they’re still in there, you’re not going back.”
Matt and Duke sprinted up to us, panting. “Willie!” Duke cried, flinging his arms around her. “Thank God.”
She drew away. “There ain’t no time for pretty reunions. We got to catch them before they escape.” She marched off toward the house.
“Duke, stay here with India,” Matt ordered, following her.
“Wait,” I called out. “Take this.” I handed him the gun and watched him jog after Willie. She pushed open the door and disappeared into the dark house.
I heard Matt hiss at her to slow down and be careful.
Duke and I watched on from the pavement. “She’s real angry,” he said.
“I would be to if I’d been abducted.”
“You’d have been relieved to get away from your kidnappers. Willie wants revenge. She’s got to be careful her hunger for it doesn’t make her do something foolish.”
We fell into silence as we waited, alert to every sound. But all I could hear was the blood pounding in my ears.
It felt like they were gone for an eternity. I resisted checking my watch in the carriage lamplight, but it didn’t help my nerves when Duke began pacing. He wanted to go inside too.
I was about to tell him to join them when Willie and Matt emerged. I embraced Matt while Duke caught Willie up in his arms again. This time she returned his hug with an equally fierce one.
“They’re gone,” Matt announced. “Escaped via the rear exit.”
Willie swore again. “I should have chased them after I fired.”
“You fired that shot?” I asked.
“Aye, but I missed. God damned dress.” She slapped at her skirt, as if she wanted to rip it off there and then. “I was running along the hallway as I fired, but these clothes got in the way and I tripped. I fell against the front door. The lock was loose and the door opened real
easy. That’s how I ended up on the porch.”
“That was me,” I said. “I kicked the door until the lock loosened. One more kick and I think it would have given away.”
Willie snorted. “Sure. The lock weren’t already loose or nothing like that.”
I rounded on her. “A little gratitude wouldn’t go astray. We’ve turned ourselves inside out looking for you. Coming here wasn’t an accident. It’s the result of several hours’ investigation.”
She blew out a breath and nodded. “Sorry. You’re right.” She circled her arm around my waist. “Thanks for coming. But let’s all be clear, I rescued myself. I didn’t need help.”
“Is that right?” Duke teased. “Then why didn’t you get free before now?”
She shrugged. “I was waiting for the right time.”
“And why was the right time now?”
“They got distracted.”
“Aye, by the whistler on the street, I’d wager.”
“So?”
“He whistled because he saw us. So if it hadn’t been for us, they wouldn’t have got distracted enough for you to escape.” He settled his arm around her shoulders. “A simple thanks is all right by me. No need to gush.”
She pushed his arm off and strode to the carriage. “I want to go home.”
“You’ll probably need a bath,” I said. “This place doesn’t look terribly clean.”
“A bit of dirt and stink don’t bother me. I just want to get out of this dress. I ain’t never wearing one again. It’s all Charity Glass’s fault. If she hadn’t told the Masons about Cyclops and Catherine, I wouldn’t have had to go in disguise to get proof.”
“You found out it was her?” I asked, stepping into the carriage.
“Nope, but who else could it be?” She slumped into the corner and crossed her arms, a sour look on her face. “I’m going to confront her right after I wring Bunn and Miss Moreton’s necks.”
“Let the judge mete out the punishment,” I said.
“And let the police catch them,” Matt added. “We’re going to Scotland Yard before we go home. The police need to start looking for them before the trail goes cold.”
“We also have some good news to give a very worried detective inspector,” I said. “Cyclops too.”
Willie grunted, sounding disinterested, but she sat up a little taller.
We met Cyclops at Scotland Yard as he was about to leave. He slapped Willie on the shoulder and told her she looked ridiculous. She punched him in the arm and he enveloped her in an enormous hug that almost swallowed her whole.
A constable escorted us to Brockwell’s office where the inspector was filling out forms at his desk. He glanced up and dropped the pen. Ink splattered all over the paperwork.
He shot to his feet. “Willie! You’re safe.”
“Course I am. Don’t know why you all thought I couldn’t take care of myself.”
“I tried to tell them you’d be fine, but they thought you needed rescuing anyway.”
Matt arched his brow, but the inspector was too busy grinning at Willie to notice.
Willie fought back a smile.
“Bunn and Amelia Moreton are on the run,” Matt said, picking up the dropped pen. He wrote down an address in Brockwell’s notebook. “This is where they hid Willie. They fled when we arrived.”
“After I escaped,” Willie pointed out.
Brockwell ordered the constable to gather a team to meet with him in a few moments. The constable hurried away and Brockwell reached for his coat, hanging on the stand by the door.
“How did you get free?” he asked.
Matt told them how we’d learned of the vacant properties and the whistler on the street, and Willie filled in the rest, although her escape was far more elegant in this retelling. She didn’t fall through the door and land on her behind, nor did her shot miss by accident. Apparently it was entirely done on purpose because she didn’t feel like killing either of them.
“That’s real good of you to spare their lives,” Cyclops said. “Because they weren’t going to spare yours.”
“Is that so?” She thrust her hand on her hip. “They wouldn’t tell me why they kidnapped me, but I guessed it was to force India to use her magic. I told them it wouldn’t work, that Matt wouldn’t let you use it even if you wanted to.”
Matt looked at me but said nothing.
“Come with me, Willie,” Brockwell said, indicating she should walk ahead of him out of the door. “I need to send some men to this address, as well as other places the fugitives are known to frequent. You might be able to tell us something about your kidnappers that will help.”
“You should ask Moreton if his daughter has friends who’d hide her,” Cyclops said.
“Thank you,” Brockwell said wryly.
“And you should wire their descriptions to other police stations,” Duke added. “They could be trying to leave London.”
“I know what to do,” Brockwell said over his shoulder. His strides were the most hurried I’d ever seen from the inspector. I wondered if he’d be this determined if the victim was someone other than Willie.
Willie also seemed to notice the change in Brockwell. Going by her small smile, she liked that he made a fuss.
Brockwell only allowed Willie into the meeting room with his men. The rest of us remained outside. Fortunately the meeting was brief. The constables and sergeants filed out and scattered in all directions. We waited, but Brockwell and Willie didn’t emerge.
Duke went to look inside, but Cyclops caught his arm.
“Let them talk alone for a few minutes,” Cyclops said. “I reckon he wants to tell her how worried he was.”
“That won’t work with Willie,” Duke said with utter certainty. “You saw what she was like when we rescued her. She doesn’t like being a victim or to have others think of her as one. If he tells her he was worried, she’ll take it the wrong way.”
He might be right. I hoped Brockwell had enough sense to know when to keep quiet. Dealing with Willie was a matter fraught with hazards lurking just below the surface.
I began to doubt Brockwell, and was considering entering the room myself, when the door opened. Willie emerged, that smile still in place, but this time with a gleam in her eyes too. Brockwell looked as bland as always.
We left Brockwell to lead the search for Mr. Bunn and Amelia Moreton and returned home.
“Want a drink, Willie?” Duke asked as we passed the drawing room door.
“Not until I get this damned dress off.”
“Oh, Willie,” Aunt Letitia said from the staircase. I hadn’t seen her standing there, one hand on the balustrade, the other pressed to her stomach. “Look at your hair. It’s quite wild. Honestly, if you’re going to wear a dress, you ought to do it justice and keep yourself tidy.”
“That’s why I ain’t wearing a dress ever again. It’s too much trouble. Give me buckskins and a waistcoat any day over petticoats and a corset.”
I was quite sure Willie wasn’t wearing a corset but refrained from pointing it out in Aunt Letitia’s company.
We dined without Willie, but she joined us later in the sitting room with a full plate of food. Aunt Letitia was so horrified that she was dining somewhere other than the dining room that she retired so that she didn’t have to watch. We waited until she was gone before discussing the evening’s events to avoid upsetting her.
Willie couldn’t offer us much more information than she already had. She didn’t know where Bunn and Amelia could have gone, but she did give us some insights into their character.
“They ain’t courting,” she said. “Or if they are, they’ve got a stranger relationship than me and Jasper.”
“So why did Amelia go along with his scheme?” Cyclops asked.
“I don’t think it was his scheme. He wanted to let me go, but Amelia refused. She reckoned the plan would work if they waited it out ‘til midnight.”
“So why did he go along with it then?” I asked.
Willie shrugged. “I think he’s in awe of her. She’s smart and fearless.”
Duke smirked. “She sounds like your type. You should’ve tried to charm her, not shoot her.”
“Real funny, Duke. She ain’t my type at all. She’s too intense. All she could talk about was magic, and how it needs to be shared, and how magicians should be able to be free to cast whatever spells they want. She sounded angry. Mr. Bunn was too, but only after she riled him up a bit.”
“Do you think they’ll give up now?” Matt asked.
Willie shook her head. “She won’t.” She settled her gaze on me. “You need to be careful, India. I reckon they might try kidnapping you, next.”
I wasn’t so sure. The best way to get me to do something I didn’t want to do was threaten my friends or family. I would have given them what they wanted at midnight tonight if we hadn’t found Willie. I had to hope they didn’t know that. I looked to Matt and swallowed the lump in my throat.
Later, as I was walking up the stairs with Willie, I asked her about her private conversation with Brockwell. “What did he say to you in the meeting room? Did he tell you how worried he was?”
“Nothing like that,” she said, looking horrified by the suggestion. “He told me he doesn’t mind if I want to see other people, as long as I keep seeing him sometimes.”
“You already knew that.”
“Other people, India, not just other men. He says he was shocked when he found out I liked women too, only because he’s never met anyone like that.” She stabbed her thumb into her chest. “I’m unique.” Going by her smile, it would seem it was a description she embraced.
“He knows you well,” I said gently. At her door, I gave her a brief hug. “I’m very happy to have you back, Willie. It’s just not the same here without you.”
“Glad to be back. And if I ever suggest wearing a dress again, shoot me.”
Detective Inspector Brockwell arrived while we were taking breakfast in the dining room. He had an uncanny habit of turning up at mealtimes during an investigation, claiming his reports needed to be given in person and precisely the time of day to coincide with an invitation to stay. Sometimes I wondered if he’d asked Mrs. Potter, our cook, for a schedule.
