Jaeger shrugged. "He had paid me as I reported on your continued failure. And I have...other means of income."
"Wait a minute! What if there's no way to prove she's the girl? Then Thorssen inherits, doesn't he?"
"Of course. But that changes nothing. If you found her--" He shrugged. "It does not matter." He trailed the thongs of the quirt across one of Buff's shoulders. "No one else will ever find the lost baroness, for she will be dead."
A scrape drew Buff's attention to Siri, who had dragged herself to a sitting position. She was off to one side and behind Jaeger. With her visible hand hardly raised from the deck, she pointed toward the east bank. She was frowning, and as he stared, she gave a quick shake of her head. Again she pointed east.
Keep him talking! "Other income, you say? From rolling drunks, I'll bet," Buff said, putting as much scorn into his voice as he could.
The quirt slashed across his shoulder. Shit, that smarts! He let himself gasp.
"Ah, you do not like that. Good. Then you will tell me what I wish to know or I will do it again. Perhaps next time I will mark your face, yes?"
"No, please..." He drooped, letting the ropes take some of his weight. "Ask your questions. I'll do my best to answer them."
"You discovered who she was in Astoria. How?"
Buff told him what he'd learned about the Dancing Goddess's cargo, and her survivors. "The fisherman who pulled her out of the water is dead now. It was pure dumb luck I found out he'd adopted her. I doubt anyone else would ever put the bits and pieces together as I did."
The quirt slashed across the other shoulder this time. "You lie! You sought information in the port records. What did you find?"
"Damn little," he said, deciding the truth wouldn't make much difference. "They showed that there were some survivors, but said they were all Chinese girls." At Jaeger's skeptical expression, he went on. "The only record I found said there were ten China girls and two crewmen rescued. Apparently the fisherman never told about the girl he'd saved."
"But there is no proof? If he is dead, who remembers? Tell me!" He touched Buff's face with the whip. A gentle, almost caressing touch.
"Nobody. I'm the only one who put it all together and I haven't told anyone. Siri doesn't remember any of it." He kept his voice low. "Great God, man! Even she doesn't know who she is. Why would I tell her, when she hasn't a chance of proving a claim against the estate?"
"I think you lie." Laying the quirt down, he went to where Siri was still huddled on the deck. Roughly he pulled her to her feet. "See your lover now, Mrs. Trogen? He is not so brave and handsome, is he?"
He dragged her toward Buff. She hung limp in his arms. Good for her. She's making this as difficult as possible. Buff stole a look at the east shore. A tender filled with men was making its way across, not quite aiming toward the ship where he was. I sure hope that's Silas' men. Knowing it was futile, he twisted against his bonds again, but the thick rope held him fast.
Jaeger kissed Siri. His mouth was hard and hurting on hers, his teeth biting at her lips and tongue, his fingers digging into the soft skin under her jaw. She wanted to bite him back, to spit in his face when he pulled away. Instead she simply closed her eyes and held her body as relaxed as she could.
"Bah! This one has no fire in her! Why did you bother, Lachlan? Or has she hidden talents?"
"Someone like you wouldn't understand the value of a good woman," Buffalo said.
The hand on her throat tightened until she could barely draw breath. Siri wondered why Buffalo seemed determine to anger the man.
"Oh, but I do. A good woman is the sort a fool like you will risk everything to protect." He pushed her toward a locker that sat on the opposite side of the mast Buffalo was tied to. "Take off your shawl," he told her, "and that ugly cloak."
"Oh, please," Siri whined, "it is so cold. The wind..."
The slap across her face knocked her back and she fell across the locker, rolling so she would not land on her right hand.
"Take them off!" he said, his voice as sharp as the long, thin blade he pulled from under his coat. "Take them off or I will cut them off. And I will not worry what else I cut."
"You bastard," Buffalo yelled as he strained against his bonds. "Leave her alone. I'm the one you want to kill. Not her." His face contorted into an agonized mask. "Give her the child and turn her loose. I'll give you...whatever you want. My pa's rich. I'll pay you! A thousand dollars! Listen--"
Jaeger walked up and pushed his face close to Buffalo's. "You will give me whatever I ask before I am done with you, Lachlan. Tell me how you learned Astrid Thorsdotter was aboard Dancing Goddess?"
Siri stared at him. Astrid. That was the name in her dream, the night she had sickened from the mushrooms. But she knew no Astrid. Had never known anyone of that name. While Buffalo told of tracing a slave ship from port to port in the Far East, she tried to remember why she should remember that name so well. Why it should seem so familiar.
Her attention went back to the two men when Jaeger struck Buffalo with the whip again. Buffalo's squeal of pain hurt her as deeply as the two short leather thongs did the smooth skin of his back. When he begged Jaeger not to strike him again, she wanted to add her plea to his. Although she was certain he was acting the coward, she doubted he had pretended the sharp intake of breath as the lashes dug into him. How that must hurt! Her own skin quivered in sympathy.
Again and again Jaeger struck Buffalo with the quirt, until his back and shoulders were a mass of bloody stripes. With each blow, he cried out, until Siri wasn't sure if he was still pretending. She closed her eyes, unable to watch. Be patient. Soomey's words echoed in her mind. You will only get one chance, so make it count.
Every impact of the leather thongs on his smooth skin hurt her as well. He was taking this torture so they could be rescued. But with the two sailors on the higher part of the deck, watching for approaching boats, she didn't see how a rescue was possible. Gradually she resigned herself to a slow and painful death, praying only that her precious daughter would be saved from whatever horrible fate this djävul had planned for her.
At last the sound of the blows came to a halt. She forced herself to look. Buffalo hung by his arms, knees slack under him, head bowed until his chin lay on his chest.
The sky was dark now, and the rain, which had stopped shortly before she had arrived at the theatre, was again falling, a fine, almost mist-like drizzle. She could see lights on the shores, many along the docks and in the town, but only a few to the east, whence Mr. Dewitt had said their rescuers would come. The big rowboat, loaded with a dozen men, had been the only one she had seen leave that shore. It had continued without pause toward town.
No one is coming.
Her coat and shawl, which she still wore, protected her from the cold rain, but poor Buffalo was half naked.
"I told you to remove your shawl and that ugly coat," Jaeger said. He loomed over her, a slender knife again in his hand. "But you did not obey. Foolish woman."
Siri shrank back as the knife flashed toward her face, but it only sliced through the shawl, which fell open onto her shoulders. "No! I will..." She scrabbled at the coat's buttons with her left hand, cold and clumsy now. "I will take it off."
To her surprise, he waited. "Why is your arm inside your coat?" he said, sounding only curious.
"My collarbone, it was broken." She tugged at the last button, but it insisted on remaining fastened.
He touched her hand with the point of the knife, but did not cut her. "How?"
Siri watched, mouth dry, as he sliced the button off. She couldn't help the gasp of relief when he did nothing more. "A landslide. On the trail to..."
"Ah! So you were injured! Good. Good." He laughed, a big, carefree laugh that sounded as if it should come from someone kind and jolly. "How unfortunate that Lachlan escaped unscathed."
"You are a...a djävul!" Perhaps if she kept him talking...
"Thank you. I tried to kill you, twice, you know. But the soup killed
only the stupid old man and Lachlan interrupted me when I followed you from the hotel. Now I am happy I failed those times. This will be so much better. Then it would have been quick. Now I may take my time." His knife touched her cheek, lay flat against the skin. It was icy cold.
She shivered. Her teeth chattered. I will not scream. He would like that. I will not scream, no matter how much he hurts me.
"Stand up!"
She struggled to her feet, letting the coat slide from her shoulders. She forced herself to stumble. "My foot... It is domnad..." She caught at his sleeve and shook her foot as if to restore feeling.
Rather than pushing her away, he pulled her close and held her against his body. Her right hand was crushed between her ribs and his as he kissed her again. Once more Siri forced herself to remain passive, unresisting.
"Verdammt! Are you then an iceberg?" With one hand he held her head tilted toward him, while he stroked the knife blade across her cheek. "I will warm you." He licked her mouth, his tongue rough on her icy lips. "Before I am done with you, little iceberg, you will scream with passion."
"Buffalo, help!" she cried as she sagged against him, forcing him to put his arm around her.
Buffalo's head lifted and he looked at her with bleary eyes. "Siri?" he said. But she saw sharp intelligence in his gaze. And hope.
"Oh, he cannot help you now," Jaeger sneered. "Look at him! This is your hero, Mrs. Trogen. A sniveling coward, too submerged in his own pain to worry about you now." He pulled her with him as he went close to Buffalo. "But perhaps he does not hurt enough. Perhaps I should do this!" He drew the point of his knife down Buffalo's breastbone, leaving only a scratch that oozed tiny droplets of blood. "No. I will not cut him. Not yet. Not until he begs me to." He drove the point of the knife into the foremast, just above the rope that held Buffalo.
"Not until I am done with you." Once more he pulled her to him. This time Siri resisted, pushing with all her might against his shoulder.
She fought to align her body against his at an angle, while he attempted to back her against the mast. Now. It must be now! She made one last, desperate lunge. Her hip wedged between his thighs. Before he could thrust her free, she pulled the trigger. Twice.
His hands tightened on her, then went slack. His eyes grew round, vacant. "Du, Miststueck," he gasped.
Siri stepped back as he crumpled at the foot of the mast, hoping the intense heat she felt against her midriff was not her clothing set ablaze by the shots she'd fired. She snatched the knife he'd driven into the mast and used it to cut the rope that held Buffalo. As soon as his one hand was free, he took the knife and cut the other rope. "God, Siri," he gasped, "I kept hoping you had something up your sleeve."
"Nej, the gun was in my bodice," she corrected, wondering why he had forgotten. A shout made her look over his shoulder. "Oh!" The two sailors who'd been standing guard were running toward them, both armed with belaying pins.
Buff grabbed one for himself from the fife rail and waited for them, holding the knife ready in the other hand. "Stay behind me," he told Siri.
The two hesitated when they saw he was free and armed. "Is he dead?" one asked.
"I hope so," Buff told him. "Does that mean you won't get paid?"
"Half," the other one said. "He gave us some on account."
"I'll pay you whatever he offered, if you'll help us."
The taller one scratched his head. "It don't seem right, somehow."
"The hell it don't, Jem," his shorter companion said. "If he's daid, he cain't pay us. And if he ain't, you think he's gonna pay us whilst he's in jail?"
Tall considered. "Okay, mister, but if you cheats us, I'll kill you meself."
"Fair enough." Buff knelt to search Jaeger's pockets. The stripes on his shoulders pulled, and he felt hot blood trickle down his spine, cooling as it mixed with the rain that wetted and chilled his skin. "Get me a coat, will you? And Siri, go put yours on. After all this, it'd be a shame if we both took pneumonia."
Aside from a wallet filled with a few papers, and a small purse holding perhaps a hundred dollars in coins and bills, Jaeger's pockets were empty. All but the watch pocket on his waistcoat. It held a key. And two coins. A pfennig and a florin.
"One of you go see if there's a small boat standing close by. If there is, hail it. I'm expecting company. They'll identify themselves as Dewitt's men."
Within minutes, their rescuers were aboard, and searching the vessel, despite Tall's sworn word that Jaeger had merely leased it for a couple of days. Most of the crew was ashore, on leave. "We're waiting for cargo, see, and the cap'n figured on pickin' up a couple of hundred the owners wouldn't know about."
Siri came back with the men who'd searched the cabins. She looked completely defeated. "She is not here, Buffalo." Her voice trembled. "Where else can we look?"
"Let's see what Silas has found out. Are you boys ready?"
Dewitt's men reported themselves satisfied there was no girl child aboard. Buff gave the two seamen the money he'd promised them, although it galled him to do it. They'd have killed him in an eyeblink. He helped Siri over the side and held her as they were rowed to the Dewitt docks. She clung to him all the way.
It was progress of a sort, he decided. A week ago she'd have been in hysterics to be in a small boat on a rough river.
* * *
This time Siri refused to go safely back to the hotel. She was with Buffalo and Silas when they searched the room in the waterfront hotel to which they'd followed Jaeger the previous day. They found a lettercase full of papers, a diary. The most interesting find was the small, locked case filled with hairpieces, spectacles, false moustaches, and theatrical makeup. And a clerical collar.
Buffalo stood with it in his hand, the most peculiar expression on his face.
"What is so strange about a priest's collar?" Siri asked him.
"Father Spatz," he said, his tone incredulous. "All that time on the ship from Hawaii. We played cards. Dined together. I liked him." He tossed the collar into the case. "Damn it to hell. I liked him!"
He pawed through the case's other contents. When he picked up a pair of gold-rimmed pince nez and dangled them by their brown silk ribbon, he said to Siri, "Ever seen these?"
"Why, they are just like the ones Mr. Gans wore. How curious."
"Curious hell. He was Gans. And half a dozen other people, I'll bet. No wonder he could follow me around and I never saw him." He tossed the spectacles back and closed the case. "We'll take this. I want to check the lining before I get rid of it." He set it aside with the other items they were taking. "Find anything, Silas?"
"A receipt, tucked into the mirror frame. It's for a room in the Siskiyou House. For a Mr. Adler."
"That's what he called him. 'Adler'."
Buff looked at her. "What who called who?"
"The man who took me to the docks. He called Jaeger 'Mr. Adler'."
"Let's go, then" Buffalo said. "I think we're finished here."
Siri had never been so happy to leave a place in her life. The room had felt...spöklik, as if something evil dwelt there.
* * *
"Mr. Adler's room? Where is it?"
The desk clerk stared at Buff, a sneer not quite curling his lip. "We do not give out information as to our guests' location."
Before Buff could leap over the counter and choke it out of him, Silas said, "My young friend has had an unpleasant afternoon, and is justifiably impatient. Perhaps you could send someone to inform Mr. Adler that he has visitors." He offered his card. It had the edge of a greenback peeking out from under its edge.
The clerk took the card, looked at it. "Oh, that won't be necessary, Mr. Dewitt." He made the greenback disappear so fast he might have made a living as a magician. "He's in room 403." He turned and looked a the pigeonholes behind him. "Let's see...yes, it looks as if he's in. You just go right on up."
As they mounted the stairs, Buff said, "Well, la-di-da, Mr. Dewitt. How'd you get to be so important."
"Money,"
Silas answered shortly. "Siri, I wish you'd go to the suite now. You look exhausted."
Knowing it was futile, Buff said, "Yes, sweetheart, do. We'll check the room and come right back. But I don't expect..."
"Oh, I know she is not there. But I must go. Don't you see?" She sounded tired beyond belief, as if she'd given up hope.
He was afraid of what they'd find. Had been, ever since he'd listened to what Jaeger had planned for him and Siri. A man like that, knowing he was going to kill the mother, wouldn't think twice of killing the daughter.
Or worse. Could history repeat itself? Was Siri's daughter even now on a slave ship, bound for the bagnios of the Barbary Coast?
Silas's knock drew no response. Buff laid his head against the wood panel and listened. No sound, not a rustle, not a whisper. "Hand me those keys."
Silas pulled a ring of skeleton keys from an inside coat pocket and handed them to him. Buff motioned the others to stand aside. The third key he tried opened the door. He eased it wider, peering around the corner cautiously.
The room seemed empty.
The room was empty. A man's suit hung in the closet, and two linen shirts were in the bureau, along with expensive underwear and half a dozen collars. But the room didn't look lived in. It reminded Buff of a stage set, not a place where someone lived.
There wasn't even dust under the bed.
Well, hell! Where is she? His shoulders slumped in defeat, he stood in the middle of the room and looked about. He was missing something. What?
"Look," Silas said, after they stood a long time in silence, "it's late. Let's go have supper, and talk this over. She's got to be somewhere. My boys are watching every ship in the harbor, and all the roads. She's still in Portland. I'll bet anything on that. If the boys don't find her tonight, we'll call in the police. This isn't a family feud any longer."
"If she is alive," Siri said, a sob in her voice. But she allowed Buff to lead her out of the room.
The Lost Baroness Page 34
