Pack of Trouble (The Adventures of Xavier & Vic Book 5)

by Liza O'Connor

  “You what?” she yelled.

  “To protect you,” he growled. “Tubs is absolutely correct about the boy. What used to be an annoying jealously over your speedy advancement has become a lethal obsession. He must be contained or removed. However, I would prefer to do this by the law. Tubs has enough deaths on his plate.”

  “I have no problem adding this one,” Tubs assured him. “I’m certain Barnacle has killed before. A person don’t have a soul that black just from resentment alone.”

  Vic frowned. “We should determine if fellow students have gone missing at whatever boarding school he was in.”

  “And at Cambridge,” Xavier added.

  “You sent him to Cambridge?”

  “I wasn’t sending him to Oxford. I’ve no doubt professors still speak highly of you to their current students.”

  Just then the carriage pulled up and stopped. Vic hurried out of the carriage and ran up the block to St. George Street. “You better be right about his destination,” she warned.

  Xavier pulled out his telescope and studied the pedestrians. “There he is, walking with confidence, certain no one’s followed him. Once he leaves the bank, we can trail behind him without notice.

  ***

  Vic entered a jewelry store two blocks up from the bank. Xavier had selected a bookstore a block from the bank and Tubs climbed to the roof of a building, watching with the telescope.

  While she waited for Barnacle to pass, Vic studied the window display. She found the preponderance of sapphire stones in the display troublesome. By the former indentations on the velvet display cases, these had only recently been placed on the cloth.

  A rap on the window caused her to jump a foot in the air. By the time she focused on the person rapping the glass, his tall lanky form disappeared in the crowd.

  Xavier. Damn it, she’d allowed Barnacle to pass by!

  She hurried from the store and searched the street ahead for Barnacle. She didn’t bother locating Xavier. If seen together, the vermin would recognize them at once.

  Unable to see the street-urchin-turned-murderer, she picked up her speed, searching the unnaturally heavy crowd of people in the street.

  Where the hell is he?

  Had she lost him while finding the probable jeweler cutting the gems? If so, it was not a fair exchange in the least. Ben was worth more than all the gems in the world. He happily took appointments and never back-talked.

  Then a small cylinder rammed into her back as a hand clamped on her arm. “Resist and you die,” the annoying voice of Barnacle hissed into her ear.

  Vic had a great desire to do more than resist. She wanted to beat the cretin to a pulp, but the painful item jabbing into her back felt all too much like a gun.

  They continued down the street for several blocks, then turned towards the lower docks.

  “Is Ben dead or alive?” she demanded.

  “You tell me. You’re the one who claims to be all knowing.”

  “I think he’s alive.”

  “Of course you do. I needed you to think that, so you would come to his rescue. My skills put yours to shame. I knew that eventually, Davy would tell you he caught me going through Ben’s stuff, resulting in you expecting me to lead you to Ben.”

  Vic wasn’t happy at all with Barnacle’s ability to read her thoughts. The last thing she wanted was for the lunatic to have true skills.

  “By giving you just a slight suspicion—nothing Xavier would act upon—I knew you would come alone. Nor would you be able to take your dog, Tubs. I’d see him a mile off.” He snorted. “And here you are, just as I planned, the bane of my existence…soon to be no more.”

  He turned down an alley filled with trash and the contents of chamber pots tossed from the window above. She was glad she hadn’t eaten since this morning because the stench overwhelmed her, causing her to dry heave.

  Barnacle took great pleasure in taunting her weakness. “You’re pathetic, you know that. Thank God, Xavier finally realizes the truth. He told me so today. I am worth a thousand of you. He’ll make me partner before the year is out, wait and see.

  He paused and then laughed. “Oh wait, you won’t be alive to see that glorious day. And once the great Sherlock Holmes has taught me all he knows then he’ll die as well. As his partner, the business will become mine. And soon Doyle will make me his muse for future stories.”

  Vic doubted taunting Barnacle was a grand idea, but she couldn’t help herself. “And Tubs? You think you can kill him? He’ll crush your skull with one hand.”

  Her threat caused Barnacle to smile with true delight. “Excellent idea. I was planning to set Tubs up for your death. I’ve studied the police reports of his prior murders. However, there is no consistency in his methods. But crushing a person’s skull… Who besides Tubs could even do that?” He laughed with great pleasure. “How brilliant can I get?”

  Stopping at a grey, weatherworn door, he kicked it hard enough that it rattled on its hinges. The small peek-a-boo, shaped like a miniature door, opened, and two frightened eyes peered out. A moment later, the little door closed and the big door opened.

  Barnacle pushed Vic inside. Whoever had opened the door, now locked it. Pushing Vic past the cold empty fireplace of the kitchen, the bane of her existence steered her into a gapping black hole oozing cold frigid air. His hand slammed against the small of her back, propelling her forward.

  Expecting the darkness held stairs, which led down into a cellar, did not save her from the push that began her descent. Nor was there any stair rail to rescue her along the way.

  Despite every effort to control her fall, Vic rolled down the wooden steps, hitting her head, her shoulders, her back, her ankles, her knees, her legs, finally slamming face-first onto the rough stone floor below. She suspected every bone in her body was broken; sure as hell felt like it.

  As she laid in a semiconscious state of pain, the sound of flesh slapping flesh sounded across the room.

  “Wake up, Ben. Vic’s come to rescue you.” Barnacle’s voice pitched higher in a maniacal jubilation. “Wake up!” he screamed.

  A barely audible hoarse voice spoke. “No…Vic.”

  “Sorry, but true. The amazing Victor Hamilton has completely failed when set against my brilliance. He followed my trap like a senseless rat…first day back.”

  More slaps sounded.

  “Wait…there’s more. No one even noticed you were gone. They have completely forgotten their mediocre assistant. And now that you’ve done your job, there’s no reason to keep you alive. You are completely worthless, Ben. No one needs or even remembers who you are.”

  “Not true,” Vic said as loud as her airless lungs could manage…which wasn’t much.

  Barnacle stormed towards her, his gun swinging widely about as he gestured emphatically to his angry words, looking rather like a drunken conductor of a symphony gone mad.

  “You’re taking his side? Even now when I have so thoroughly outdone the two of you? He is nothing. You are nothing. I am the finest skilled sleuth that’s ever been, only you fools refuse to see it. But Thorn sees it now.”

  Barnacle paced across the damp cold stone floor. “You should have seen him, Vic. Praising me, finding fault in all you do…”

  Vic watched the mad urchin through a tiny slit of her lids. If he’d just come a little closer she could grab his leg, bring him down and strangle the bastard with her bare hands…

  She hoped to God that her arms weren’t broken, or even that possibility was a pipedream.

  Damn it…Xavier and Cannonball needed her! Without her, one would go mad and the other feral, chewing off people’s fingers.

  Barnacle stepped closer but not close enough. “I have dreamed of this day for four years! Finally, I can rid this world of your insipid, pathetic existence.”

  Vic peeked beneath her lashes at the gun aimed in the general direction of her head.

  A loud explosion sounded upstairs.

  Barnacle cursed beneath his breath. “Gue
ss I won’t be crushing your skull after all. But don’t get too happy. You still won’t be saved this time. “Say goodbye, Vic.” Barnacle laughed manically, aimed the gun at her head, and fired.

  Chapter 12

  On top of a five-story building, Tubs searched below, looking for some sign of Vic. Something was wrong. He could feel it in his gut. Finally, he spotted Xavier, walking in the opposite direction he had been going, searching the crowded street as well.

  Abandoning his post, Tubs hurried into the building and down five flights of stairs. Upon exiting the building, he continued to scan the street as he ran towards Xavier, but he had no hope. His gut told him Vic was in serious trouble.

  When he reached Xavier, he could see the same sense of dread gripped his boss. Xavier’s black eyes burned with intensity, his jaw muscles were drawn tight.

  “Where’s Vic?” he demanded.

  Tubs had never felt such failure in his life. “I couldn’t find him with the scope, but he’s in trouble. I feel it in my gut.”

  “Mine as well. But where?” Xavier snapped as he turned about, his black eyes taking in every aspect of the street.

  “He must have turned down a side road.”

  “Why?”

  Tubs could only think of two reasons Vic would turn off. Either Vic had found a mission direr than this one, or Barnacle had turned off. “Did you still have sight of Barnacle when you started to worry about Vic?”

  Xavier never stopped searching, but he softly answered Tubs’ question. “No. I’d lost him about five minutes before when a fire alarm caused the button shop to evacuate. How about you?”

  “That’s when I lost him as well,” Tubs admitted. “I was trying to spot him further up as the crowd of workers thinned, but then my gut went sour and I started looking for Vic.”

  By this point they had reached the jewelry store. Xavier stared through the window. “Vic was inside this shop looking at the items in the window when I passed by after Barnacle.”

  Tubs spotted Davy on the carriage and let out a piercing whistle.

  As the carriage approached, Xavier yelled. “Is Vic with you?”

  Davy shook his head as he pulled the carriage to the side. “I got a bad feeling about this.”

  For the first time in Tubs’ life, he felt as helpless as a newborn baby. “We don’t have time to stand about,” he muttered to himself and stormed into the jewelry store.

  At the jingle of the bell, the jeweler looked up with a cheery smile. It faded upon sight of Tubs. A second later, the man fled to the back room.

  Tubs cleared the counter in a single leap and ducked beneath the back room door opening. A familiar face greeted him, holding a gun in his direction. He swatted the gun away and snatched the wiry fellow up. “Where’s Vic?”

  “Vic who?”

  “The fellow who was in your store earlier looking at the stuff in your window?”

  “A young gentlemen with light blond hair?”

  Tubs gave him a single nod.

  “He ran out in a hurry. I’d thought he’d robbed me, so I sent Sam after him. Only when I checked, nothing was missing. So I whistled for Sam to return.”

  “Where’s Sam now?” Tubs growled.

  The man’s eyes flickered to the closet. “He ran out the back alley.”

  Tubs dropped the fellow to the ground and opened the closet door, extracting Sam from his hiding place.

  “Don’t kill me, Tubs. Please, I’m begging you. I’ll get the money, I swear I will.”

  Tubs had no idea what he was carrying on about. “Shut up about money. I want to know about the young gentleman you chased after.”

  “Who?”

  “The fellow I sent you after a half-hour ago,” the jeweler said.

  With eyes white with terror, Sam looked up at Tubs. “I caught up to him and his friend, but then Fields called me back.”

  “What’d the friend look like?”

  “I don’t know. I was focused on the thief.”

  “How was he dressed?” Tubs demanded, and shook Sam to help jog his memory. Tubs had always found the occasional shake seemed to speed matters along.

  “In a suit, about the same age as the blond, only his hair was dark. Neither wore hats, if that helps.”

  Tubs gripped him by the neck. “Come on. You’re going to show me exactly where you saw them.”

  “Then we’re square?”

  “Yes,” Tubs said, but still held firm to the fellow. He didn’t have time to chase Wiggles down today. Vic needed help now.

  When he exited the front of the jewelry store, Xavier, Davy and the carriage were gone. Nothing he could do about that. His priority was Vic. “Which way?” he demanded.

  Wiggles pointed south and Tubs headed off in the direction, holding tight to the man.

  They’d walked several blocks up before Tubs realized something was wrong. “Why hadn’t you caught him by now?”

  “Because he’d met up with the other fellow and that one looked like trouble.”

  “How so?”

  “Well the gun for one. To be honest, I don’t think they were friends.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “The gun was pressed in the blond’s back.”

  Tubs shook his head and growled.

  Wiggles ducked his head as if expecting a cuff. “Sorry, guess I should have mentioned that before, but I thought Seth sent you to kill me for not giving him a cut. Here! They turned here.”

  “You sure, because I will kill you if you’re lying?”

  “I swear. They turned down here and I was holding back, since they would have noticed me if I followed.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “They were still walking down the road when I heard Fields’ whistle.”

  “How far down were they?”

  “I don’t know…maybe near that crate. The dark fellow had stopped and turned my way, so I stepped back and then I got my whistle. I swear that’s all I know, Tubs. On my mother’s grave.”

  “Go!” he ordered and hurried down the side street that headed to the docks.

  And found nothing.

  A whistle caused his head to snap back to St. George Street. Xavier stood at its juncture. He ran to his boss and explained what Wiggles had seen.

  Xavier gripped his shoulder. “Good work. I sent Davy to retrieve more help, so remain here while I try my luck on finding Vic.”

  Tubs wanted to insist it was his job to find Vic, but it wasn’t. It was his job to protect Vic…which he’d failed to do. So he wisely kept his trap shut and let Mr. Thorn have a go.

  He watched with frustration as Mr. Thorn slowly made his way down the road. Had he not heard that Wiggles saw them walk nearly three blocks down?

  “Tubs,” a familiar voice spoke.

  He looked up at Jacko. “We’ve lost Vic,” he said and had to fight for control before he broke out into a blubber.

  “Davy told me before heading off to Scotland Yard.” He held up a growling baby. “I’m hoping this will help?”

  “You brought Cannon?” Tubs leaned in and spoke softly. “Vic ain’t hiding from us. He’s in trouble.”

  “I know.”

  A tug on Tubs’ pants brought his attention to L’il Pete, standing beside him, looking up, his brow wrinkled and his eyes worried. “Cannon went to the back door about a half-hour ago and started growling at it. I think he can track Vic’s scent.”

  Presently the baby was focused on the road that Vic had turned off.

  “Mr. Thorn is further down, let him decide,” Tubs said and headed down.

  “Pete, you stay here and flag down Davy and Scotland Yard,” Jacko ordered.

  “But I want to save Vic,” the boy countered with a pout.

  “If Cannon can do what you think, then you’ve already done so.”

  Pacified, L’il Pete huffed but focused his attention down the street.

  With Jacko holding Cannon in his arm and Tubs beside him, they jogged to the section Vic had last been seen.
Jacko set Cannon down on his padded hands and knees and the boy continued down the road at an amazingly fast speed, growling the whole way.

  “What the bloody hell?” Xavier stormed out from a side road, staring at his son, then Jacko.

  Tubs stepped forward. “Sir, I know it seems crazy, but my gut tells me we ain’t got time on our side. Your son seems intent of finding something. I’m hoping it’s Vic.”

  He stared at the boy straining on his leash, wanting to go down a filthy alley.

  Xavier stormed over and picked the boy up. He turned around to remove him from the alley, but the growling turned into howls of protest as the child attempted to squirm out of Xavier’s arms. When Xavier turned back around facing the alley, the boy stilled as he swung his nose from side to side.

  “Let’s try it,” Xavier said.

  ***

  “Xavier, hold up,” a stern voice commanded.

  Xavier continued forward. “Damn it, Stone, I don’t have time to do this your way. Vic’s life is in danger.”

  “That is why I have brought my best men, to help in the search.” Stone’s face turned to outrage. “What are you doing with that child?”

  “Stone, my son Cannon. Cannon, the current director of Scotland Yard, but I swear if I lose Vic, he won’t be for long.”

  “Tubs take the boy out of here,” Stone demanded.

  “Can’t, got to save Vic.” As Tubs pushed forward, Xavier thrust the growling boy in his hands.

  “For the love of God, Xavier. Why would you bring a child into this?” Stone demanded.

  “The boy thinks…” He couldn’t tell him Vic was his mother and evidently babies could smell their mothers. “He thinks he’s a hunting dog.”

  “Are you insane?”

  “No, I am aware the boy might be overselling his skills, but if he is, I will reprimand him once he is of an age to comprehend my lecture.”

  Tubs’ soft whistle ended their argument. Cannon was growling at a door. Inspector Stone followed Xavier to the door with Jacko and Meyers quickly behind.

  Tubs handed the baby off to Jacko. “Get him to safety.

  “Why me?” Jacko demanded.

  Xavier glared at him. “Because Tubs is slightly better at knocking down doors.”