Steampunk Carnival (Steam World Book 1)

by Cassandra Leuthold

  “That’s different. We’re friends.”

  “Maybe, but what happens if you have a falling out? It’d be the same situation, making it uncomfortable for you to work here.”

  Katya felt forced to be more direct. “I apologize, Mr. O’Sullivan, but I’d be wasting your time. You’re not the kind of man I’m looking for.”

  Maddox raised his eyebrows. “So you’ve got him picked out, do you? What kind of man is it?”

  Katya straightened the hem of her jacket to fit it more squarely across her shoulders. “Let’s not fool ourselves. The best way for a woman to get by is to attach herself to a man who’s established and well off.”

  “I suppose so.” Maddox licked his lips. “Do you ever think about having fun instead of money?”

  “The pursuit of money is fun except when they won’t part with it.”

  Maddox laughed deep in his chest, honest and entertained. “I mean real fun. You know, like the carnival’s fun for all these people.”

  “I don’t have time for that kind of fun. I’m glad for you if you do.”

  “Is there anything fun to do in the city? I haven’t been in town long. I’ve been out east the last couple of years.”

  Katya’s heart leapt to think of the east, of the big house in New York where her family stayed. She redirected the pictures in her mind to the city she had moved to. “There’s the English Opera House in the center of town. They put on good productions there. You can hear music any time you like. If you’re tired of marches, there’re orchestras playing Wagner and Handel. There’s almost more music in the city than anything else. There are parks to explore. You could join a sports club if you like, but I don’t know much about them.”

  “I’m surprised. You know so much about everything else.”

  Katya decided to stick with the truth. “I haven’t had any dates there, so I’m not as familiar.”

  Maddox’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Suppose I want to ask a girl out. How will I know where to take her unless you show me all the best places?”

  “I’m not naive. I know what you’re trying to do. My advice is to find a woman who isn’t me and ask her to the carnival. There’s not a better place in the whole country. If she isn’t mad for you after one night here, she isn’t worth your time. Have a good evening, Mr. O’Sullivan.”

  Katya turned and strolled away before Maddox could reel her back into the conversation. She heard his parting remark called to her over her shoulder.

  “Have a good night, Miss Romanova.”

  Katya gave no sign she had heard him. She walked on until she reached the crowd gathered around the eastern side stage, dozens of people engrossed in watching six men gorge themselves in a pickle-eating contest. Katya immersed herself in the dense crowd, smiling brightly at those around her and asking if they needed assistance. They shook their heads and turned back to the gradually slowing action. Katya remained there for some time, until the man in charge, dressed in a sharp black suit, presented a winner’s ribbon to the contestant who was barely more than translucent skin wrapped around thin bones. A spokesman for the canning company stepped forward to elaborate on the exquisite taste and crunch of the product. Certain that Maddox had either stayed near the lamppost or moseyed to the back of the carnival where the maintenance building was, Katya went on her way, trying to avoid either location.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Katya sat on the front edge of the hard wooden pew in the back of St. John’s Church. She tried not to yawn, hiding each involuntary stretch of her jaws behind her yellow satin glove. Next to her, the early hour did not seem to affect Magdalene as strongly. She smelled like popcorn and frying potatoes but sat as patiently as if she had just woken up from a pleasant sleep.

  Brady slipped into the sanctuary and lowered his hat from his head. He sank into the pew on the other side of Magdalene. He looked tired and old, new creases forming worried ravines across his forehead. “I was glad to hear the wheel was popular tonight, Miss Romanova. What have you learned?”

  Katya dropped her hand from her face, where she had stifled another yawn. “Not as much as I hoped. Mr. Warden spends all his nights at the carnival. He has a few meetings a week, but I don’t know where. He goes on dates during the day, but I don’t know whom he’s seeing or where.”

  Magdalene turned to Katya. “Do you think we could ask at the Opera House if Mr. Warden has been there? Maybe we could find a pattern. If we say we’re looking for him, I’m sure they’d be happy to help.”

  Brady answered before Katya could decide either way. “He could change those plans too easily. We need to know exactly where Warden’s going to be. If we can learn his schedule and anticipate his movements, we’ll be able to find the best place to expose him.”

  “It’s not over yet,” Katya insisted. “Mr. Warden was tight lipped when I talked to him, but he said I can talk to him anytime. Alone, without Mr. Lieber, if I want.”

  Magdalene spoke up. “The death threats have them both on edge. We don’t want to come across as suspicious by probing for information.”

  “You could ask Mr. Warden,” Katya suggested. “Everybody trusts you. They all seem to think I’m after Mr. Warden’s money.” Katya stopped before she shared too much about her personal life in front of Brady. “He’d talk to you, Mags. If you wait a week or two, Mr. Warden might give you the information we’re looking for.”

  Brady interjected, rubbing his palms against each other. “Could we set him up? Could we get him an interview or have him make a speech at some event?”

  “I don’t know,” Magdalene breathed.

  Katya rested her hand on Magdalene’s arm with a new thought. “Do you know who Mr. Warden’s seeing now?”

  “No.”

  “I haven’t seen the woman in green for a while. I haven’t seen any women near his office in weeks.”

  Brady broke in with another question. “Do you think any of Warden’s girlfriends would betray him by talking to you?”

  “They might.” Katya considered her own complex relationship with her boss. “Mr. Warden never keeps anyone near him whom he can’t use for something. If they’re aware of that or we point it out to them, they might open up and tell us something.”

  “There are too many if’s.” Brady ducked his face and laid his hands over it. The pads of his fingertips smoothed his forehead, and his thumbs slid across the planes of his closed eyelids.

  Magdalene spoke up, soft and soothing. “No man is impenetrable, not even Mr. Warden. He has his weaknesses. We just need to make them work for us.”

  Katya forced her mouth closed against an impending yawn that slurred her opening words. “That’s not good enough. Mr. Warden’s being too cautious, even with me. We have to try what we know will work. Mags, you have to try. If I keep bothering him, he’ll know we’re up to something, and we’ll never learn anything.”

  A few pews away, a swish of fabric against hard wood preceded a few hollow knocks as one of the invisible homeless rolled over.

  Katya lowered her voice. “No one would suspect you.”

  Magdalene whispered back. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Talk to Mr. Warden in front of Mr. Lieber. If you try to get him alone, he might think you’re up to one of my tricks.”

  “I think you should keep trying. If he’s willing to see you again, he’s willing to talk.”

  Or do more than talk, Katya thought, but she kept that concern to herself.

  “I have no reason to talk to Mr. Warden,” Magdalene added.

  “Of course you do. When I ran into Mr. Lieber, he wanted the cooks to buy German mustard instead of what you’re using. It’d be easy to appease him and buy a few minutes learning Mr. Warden’s schedule.”

  “You don’t think it’s going to be suspicious if I try to spin a conversation out of German mustard?”

  Brady leaned past Magdalene to see Katya better. “I have to agree with Miss Harvey. If Warden’s come to expect you, Miss Romanova, you stand
the best chance of slipping past his defenses.”

  Katya wanted to keep arguing to the contrary, but there seemed to be no point. “What do you expect me to talk about?”

  Magdalene laid her hand on Katya’s, her eyes wide with eagerness to convince her. “Anything. Tell him one of the reporters wants to interview him, and you want to arrange a time. Tell him one of the patrons wants a date with him, and he should meet with her downtown.”

  “At the Opera House?” Katya grumbled, her voice dragging.

  “Yes, that’s good. A mystery date at the Opera House.”

  Brady reached out and took Katya’s free hand between his own. “Miss Romanova, I’d appreciate it greatly. Please try one more time. If Warden won’t talk to you, we’ll find another way.”

  Faced with Brady’s hopeful, weary eyes, Katya conceded. “I’ll try.”

  “Thank you.”

  They all rose at once, Katya slipping her hands free of her friends’ outreaches. They moved to the door of the sanctuary and filed out of the church onto the sidewalk.

  Brady’s Irish accent reminded Katya of Maddox, and she wondered if she should ask him if he knew anything about the young maintenance man. She decided he probably would not. Even though she was coming to know Brady’s past and current situation, no one else at the carnival knew the first thing about him. He kept to himself, and that included staying away from those who gossiped and those who were gossiped about.

  “Be careful, ladies,” Brady said, breaking away from them to walk south on Tennessee Street.

  “Good night,” Katya and Magdalene chimed in.

  The two women turned north, looking and listening for the streetcar they expected at any moment.

  “Do you think he knows?” Katya whispered without forethought.

  “Knows what?” Magdalene stretched her neck in search of the carriage.

  “About me and Mr. Warden.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “I don’t want Mr. Kelly to think I don’t want to help him.”

  “He’s not going to think that.” Horses’ hooves struck the road higher up the street, and Magdalene relaxed her angled pose.

  “Don’t you think it’s strange to be stuck between your boss and someone you barely know?” Katya asked.

  Magdalene adjusted her rosy gloves at the ends of her crimson sleeves. “I would’ve found it stranger if the carnival had nothing uncommon about it. It was never designed to be normal. It’s too ambitious to be average in any way.”

  The pair of horses pulled the streetcar toward the corner. Katya hoped the driver had not yet ridden into earshot.

  “Yes,” Katya agreed under her breath. “For a place that has everything, that’s exactly what we stand to lose.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Katya rehearsed the story over and over in her head as she crossed the grounds. A woman had approached her near the front gates, a radiant young woman, not unlike herself. Katya knew this was the only way Mr. Warden would keep listening. This young woman, who did not supply her name, desperately wanted to meet Mr. Warden, not in a quiet back office at the carnival but out on the town for a date. Pressing her for more, Katya learned the young woman was smitten with the theater, and Katya would proceed to talk Mr. Warden into a romantic rendezvous at the English Opera House. She could suggest a dinner at Bates House, too, a one-block walk from the theater and a mere two blocks from the church where the plan had been hatched. Katya appreciated the irony of it, especially since Mr. Warden might not be able to appear in public again for some time if the trap succeeded.

  Katya imagined Brady revealing his true identity in front of the Opera House, removing his hat to make sure the lamp light

  s caught his face. Mr. Warden would freeze immediately, knowing his lies had been exposed. The crowd would form a circle around the two men, chattering and whispering. Mr. Warden’s reputation would be ruined, and once the police arrived, all his freedoms would be cut off. There would be no rendezvous with a beautiful woman, and Mr. Warden would drop his sullen gaze as the truth of the ruse dawned on him. The police would secure his wrists in handcuffs and lead the silent, disgraced carnival owner to their wagon.

  Katya slipped past the food stall where Magdalene’s red gloves were busy reaching out in front of her for money and then to the side for food. Katya brushed a few curls back from her neck and opened the door to Mr. Warden’s outer office. She was completely unprepared to find the small building packed with chaos, several policemen active inside.

  Through the open doorway to Mr. Warden’s office, Katya spied Mr. Lieber lying motionless on the carpet. She stared at the blood. It seemed to cover everything, adding a bright red to his throat, jaw, and shirt while it darkened the carpet around him. Katya took another step, mesmerized by the horror of it. She could not tell where the blood was seeping from.

  A policeman caught Katya by the elbow. “You shouldn’t be in here, miss. We need to collect evidence and move this man’s body.”

  “Mr. Warden,” Katya heard herself call in a detached, yearning voice.

  Mr. Warden poked his head into the doorway, not seated in his chair but standing. One bare hand rested on the back of his neck. Concern pulled Mr. Warden’s features into a deep, thoughtful frown. Katya could still envision Mr. Lieber standing on the left, peeking through at her with disapproval. In his place, another policeman occupied the office with Mr. Warden, a pencil and notebook in his hands.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” Mr. Warden said, so agitated he sounded disappointed to see Katya.

  “Please tell me what happened.” Katya struggled to make sense of it. She worried if they forced her to leave with only those raw, grisly images filling her mind, she would break down in tears.

  Mr. Warden stepped past Mr. Lieber’s body, prone with his head almost in the doorway. His face was thankfully turned away toward the corner he had often brooded in. His pale blond hair rested much the way it always had, straight and precisely parted. Only a few short locks curled out of place toward the carpet.

  Mr. Warden reached Katya and held onto her arms. “Are you all right? You look frightfully pale.”

  “Mr. Lieber’s dead,” Katya said, as if saying it meant believing it.

  “Yes,” Mr. Warden answered wryly.

  “How?”

  Mr. Warden hesitated, glancing around him at the policemen. There were three of them crammed into the waiting area. The fourth remained behind Mr. Warden in the office. “Someone took a letter opener I had lying on my desk and gouged a hole in the side of Mr. Lieber’s neck with it.”

  Katya pictured the scene better than she anticipated, and her knees wobbled, threatening to buckle. She locked them in place, holding onto Mr. Warden’s arms as he held hers. “But he can’t be dead. I just saw him.”

  One of the policemen stepped closer and raised his bushy black eyebrows. “When did you see him, miss?”

  “A few nights ago.”

  “Where?” The policeman turned a page in his notebook.

  “Near the front of the carnival. At the band stage.” Katya’s memory obliged her, pulling her away from the bloody image of the lifeless Mr. Lieber. She saw him stalking towards her while she sat at the corner of the stage.

  “What was he doing?”

  No, further back, Katya’s mind directed her. Mr. Lieber had come towards her from the other direction with Mr. Davies arguing at his side.

  Mr. Davies. Katya felt weaker. She could hear their words tearing at each other. Katya had once suggested Mr. Davies was responsible for the death threats against Mr. Warden. Now he might have had good reason to take down Mr. Lieber.

  “Miss?” the policeman prompted.

  “Where were you, Mr. Warden?” Katya asked. “When this happened?”

  Mr. Warden’s shadowed eyes swam, preoccupied. “I was out. I was speaking with customers.”

  The policeman edged closer. “Miss, I need a statement, please. And your name.”

  “Katya Romanova. I s
poke briefly to Mr. Lieber. I didn’t know him well, and we had no reason to talk. It was the end of the night, and we were both worn out.”

  “Do you remember anything he might’ve said to you?”

  The exact words eluded her, but Katya felt the echo of her ensuing anger. She should pump out brats to work in factories. If Mr. Warden had not been standing in front of her, blocking her view of Mr. Lieber, Katya might have spat at his soulless corpse. She shook her head in answer to the policeman. “No. It was nothing unusual.”

  “You work here at the carnival?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Do you know of anyone who would’ve wanted to harm Mr. Lieber?”

  Katya held Mr. Warden’s gaze. She could not tell what he was thinking, if he wanted her to keep quiet or if he would agree that most everyone wanted to hurt the abrasive head of security. “I can’t think of anyone.”

  The policeman in the inner room stepped through the doorway. “Mr. Warden, you mentioned receiving death threats.”

  Mr. Warden barely turned towards him, his arms still interlocked with Katya’s. “Yes.”

  “One theory, obviously, would be that someone came in here looking to attack you.”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t think that’s the case. Why would a murderer come unprepared? And the damage to the deceased.” The policeman tipped his hat to Katya. “My apologies for being blunt, miss. This was a crime of passion aimed directly at Mr. Lieber. I don’t believe he was killed by someone trying to carry out those threats.”

  Mr. Warden nodded.

  “I still need to get a complete statement from you, Mr. Warden.”

  “Yes, I’m coming.” Mr. Warden squeezed Katya’s arms. “Will you be all right, Miss Romanova? Do you need an escort somewhere?”

  Katya shook her head. “No, I’m fine.”

  The nearest policeman finished making notes in his book. “Miss Romanova, we’re requesting that you keep quiet about what you’ve seen here. Mr. Warden has made it clear that the details of the murder are to be kept out of the papers.”