Ultimate Nyssa Glass: The Complete Series

by H. L. Burke

  Adjusting her peacoat, Nyssa picked her way around murky puddles and trash, scanning the side streets for any structure that might possibly be described as blue.

  Chapter Eleven

  The odor from the cannery grew in intensity as Nyssa headed down Harbor Drive. Her eyes watered from the stench of dead fish. Gulls circled overhead, laughing noisily.

  An oyster vendor pushed a creaking cart down the street. He eyed Nyssa and licked his lips. Drawing herself up straighter, she pressed on.

  A blue house … by water …

  In the harbor beyond the cannery, fishing boats bumping against the wharves. Not a lot of houses that close to the water. Perhaps this was the wrong place to look. She dodged into a side street just before the water, and almost collapsed from the scent. Someone had to have vomited here recently. Fishing in her pocket, she found the handkerchief Ellis had given her that morning. A trace of his preferred pine soap rose from it as she pressed it against her nose.

  A lopsided sign hung in front of the biggest building on the street, a two-story, brick structure with streaked windows. “The Cork and Screw.” Though it was only a bit past midday, raised voices and rowdy laughter echoed out of the tavern.

  They do a brisk business I’m sure. Yes, this is just the sort of place Uncle Al would settle himself.

  Then she saw it: a narrow, three-story house with crooked shutters, crammed between two more drinking establishments. A faded sign advertised rates by the week, day, and hour … and every board of it was covered in gaudy but sloppily applied blue paint.

  Now what? I’m slightly overdressed for this part of town.

  After a moment of lip chewing, she sloughed off her peacoat and tucked it into her satchel. Beneath she wore a crisp white blouse and a brown, corset-style bodice. She entered the front door and found herself in a smoke-filled office. Behind the desk a woman with impossibly pink-red curls chomped on a half-consumed cigar.

  “You lost, girly?” She arched a black eyebrow.

  I wonder what noxious chemicals did that to her hair. Maybe it’s a wig?

  “No, I’m looking for my uncle. He said he would be staying here,” Nyssa said.

  “Uncle, huh? If by ‘uncle’ you mean ‘client,’ my girls already reserved the ‘by-the-hour’ rooms. You know the house gets a cut, right? If you’re looking for a permanent place of business, though, I have regulars who pay extra for the continental type.”

  Nyssa’s cheeks burned. Don’t take it personally. That’s just the world she lives in.

  “No, he’s a guest not a client. He would’ve been here with my … cousin.” The word felt odd on her tongue, strangely sweet somehow, as if that tenuous blood connection tied Theo to her in some tangible way. “He’s just a kid.”

  “We don’t do business with kids.” The woman scowled. “We have standards. We also don’t go sharing our client information.”

  This isn’t going well. Nyssa scanned the desk. A ledger lay open beside the woman’s ashtray. Her uncle wouldn’t use his real name, but she knew his handwriting well enough. She just needed a look.

  “I can make it worth your time.” She reached into her satchel and found a silver coin. The woman’s eyes glinted.

  Nyssa held it towards the woman, then fumbled it. The madame flailed for the money, but it hit the desk with a clank then rolled onto the floor by her feet. She dove for the coin. Nyssa leaned closer and scanned the ledger. A. Smith—Room 302 jumped out at her.

  “Sorry to waste your time. You can keep the coin,” she called over her shoulder as she exited the inn.

  Outside she scanned the building.

  302 probably meant 3rd floor. The top story of the house was under slanted gables. Even if they were closet-sized rooms, there couldn’t be more than three or four.

  I’ve made worse climbs, but shock me, I didn’t dress for this today.

  Looking about to be sure no one was watching, she backed into the alley between the blue inn and the brick tavern to its left. She could easily touch both structures without stretching her arms.

  “Well, at least no one’s here to see,” she mumbled before undoing the eye hooks and stepping out of her ruffled skirt. It joined the peacoat in the satchel. She always wore leggings for just such an occasion—too form-fitting for good company, but better than committing larceny in her bloomers. Fishing in her bag, she found her beloved goggles. With those secured over her eyes, she grasped the rain spout and hoisted herself up.

  There were windows along her route but most were shuttered.

  Good. I don’t want to be seen or subjected to whatever goes on inside a place like this.

  Her arms ached by the time she reached the third story.

  Out of practice. I bet Ellis does some sort of exercises to keep his upper body like that … I should ask.

  With one great breath, she swung herself up over the eaves to rest on the roof. Several chimneys sent dark pillars of smoke into the air, but she had a fair view of San Azula. There was the wharf area a single row of houses away—short houses so the water would be visible through the back third story windows. That was her best bet for Al and Theo.

  It was odd how close this was to the finer areas of the city. She could easily make out the clean white walls and red-tiled roofs of the hotels on the boardwalk. The pristine sand and azure surf of the tourist beaches were a fifteen minute ride from the putrid, fish-gut tainted waters around the cannery. Two totally different worlds, and there was Nyssa with a foot in both.

  Keeping her rump on the shingles, she shimmied down the roof top. She tried switching her goggles to x-ray, but couldn’t get a clear image. At the edge, she took out a rope and attached it to a chimney at one end and around her waist at the other. She then lowered herself next to the window and listened.

  “I can’t believe it!”

  She cringed at Al’s voice. Not only was it loud, but his words slurred. Drinking to celebrate his score, most likely.

  “I’m sorry,” Theo squeaked. “I didn’t mean it. I won’t —”

  “Everyone wants to leave me. And why? Haven’t I given you everything you’ve needed since I got out? More than your mum ever did, leaving you to that orphanage when she knew full well you wasn’t an orphan. And you want to go?” Something slammed against the wall. The shutters shook.

  “No … I just … they took good care of me.”

  “They won’t want you back. Best you get that in your head now. If they’d found out who you are, they’d have kicked you out anyway. You’re best off with me ‘cause I’m loyal, not like my prig brother who wouldn’t let me in his house after he married that church girl. Not like my old crew who couldn’t wait for me to get nabbed so they could have my share … or my stuck-up, ungrateful niece. When I say you’re family it means something. Your mum didn’t realize that either. Kept me from you when she was alive, tried to hide you when she croaked. The harpy. I’ll teach you a trade, my trade, and you’ll be grateful, not like that brat my brother spawned.”

  “I will. I’m sorry, Dad.”

  Nyssa closed her eyes. He’s not just going to let me take Theo. He’s got it all twisted around in his head. I’ll have to sneak Theo away.

  “Get some sleep,” Al continued a little calmer. “Our boat sets sail at midnight. We need to lie low ‘til then. Quiet like.”

  “Yes, Dad.”

  Footsteps and scuffling gave way to silence. The rope creaked under Nyssa’s weight, but she waited, counting minutes in her head until she was ready to risk her next move. If she was right about his drinking, he’d be out like a burned-out bulb.

  Leaning forward, she eased the shutters open a crack.

  The room was tiny and mostly in shadow with a table under the window and a bed against the opposite wall. Al lay on the bed, his bowler hat tipped over his eyes. Nyssa eased forward until she could rest on the sill. No sign of Theo.

  Wait. Nyssa listened. Yes, someone was sniffling.

  “Theo?” she hissed.

  T
he sniffling ceased. A disheveled head of hair and red-rimmed eyes peeked over the table top.

  Nyssa smiled. “I got your note.”

  Theo grinned, then winced and glanced back over his shoulder at Al. “I didn’t want to steal from you, but my dad—”

  “I know. We’ll talk about it later. Climb over the table to me. Hurry, but quietly.” She beckoned.

  “Wait, he’s got your money under the bed. I’ll get it.”

  Nyssa’s heart rate spiked as Theo turned from her. “No, it’s not worth it.”

  The boy darted across the room and reached under the slouching mattress. Nyssa’s pulse ticked like the triple-faced clock.

  The boy withdrew a paper sack. Nyssa’s muscles relaxed as he started back.

  Al sat up with a snort. His eyes met Nyssa’s.

  “You?” he snarled. His hand clamped on Theo’s shoulder.

  Chapter Twelve

  Al wrenched Theo backwards. The boy screamed as his back hit the wall.

  “Stop!” Nyssa yelped.

  “So you bought his loyalty with those fine clothes?” Al’s lips curled. “Even my own son, a back stabber. It’s his mum’s fault.”

  “Let him go. I don’t care about the money, but let me have Theo!” Nyssa begged. “He’s not meant to be a thief, Uncle. Please!”

  “So you think you’re too good for my trade?” Al shook a fist at Theo.

  “I … I don’t …” The boy’s whole body quivered.

  Oh why didn’t I call the police before climbing up here? Time to bluff.

  “Look, you’ve got my money in that bag, and I’ve already called the police,” Nyssa said. “Let Theo come with me, and you can be gone before they get here.”

  “Or I could just leave now with him.” Al snatched the paper bag from Theo’s hand and yanked the boy towards the door.

  “No. Stop!” Nyssa sprang through the window only to have the rope stop her with a jerk. Turning back she found it caught on the shutters. “Shock me!” She fumbled with the knot. The door across the room slammed. Al and Theo were gone.

  Nyssa grunted, jerked the rope from the shutters, and clambered out the window. As she rappelled down the side of the inn, she dug in her satchel with her free hand, finding a penknife. When she reached the bottom, she sliced through the rope. Nyssa stuffed the blade in a pocket and ran for the back of the inn.

  Al burst through the door, pulling a red-faced Theo behind him. Nyssa tackled Al.

  Her uncle hit the muddy streets with a grunt. Nyssa tightened her hold about his neck.

  “Theo! Run!” she ordered.

  The boy froze, blinking at her. Al’s elbow jabbed into Nyssa’s ribs. The sharp pain knocked the breath from her lungs and her body from her uncle’s back. He sprang to his feet.

  “Come here, boy.” Al reached towards Theo.

  The boy pressed himself against the door frame.

  “You’re my kid, and you’re coming with me,” Al snarled. He lunged towards Theo. Nyssa wrapped her arms about his legs. Al stumbled and landed with a splash in a puddle of muck.

  “I’ve about had it with you, girl.” His heel hurtled towards her face. Nyssa rolled out of the way.

  He’s bigger than me. I need a weapon to even out this fight. She whipped the penknife from her pocket. Rising to a crouch, she pointed the two inch blade at him.

  Al regained his feet, eyed the knife, and roared with laughter. “What are you gonna do with that? Your nails? Come on, Theo …” He turned back towards the boy, and his face went pale. Theo had a matchbook in one hand and the paper bag of money in the other.

  “I’ll burn it. I’ll burn it all. You hit Nyssa one more time and I’ll burn everything,” he snarled.

  “Son, you don’t … that’s our future right there.” Al stepped towards his son. Theo lit a match, and Al’s body went rigid.

  “It’s your future, but I don’t want a future based on stealing. Nyssa says I don’t have to be a thief forever just because I have been, and she’s not a thief even though she was. She used to be just like me, and now she’s got a shop and fixes things and I want to be like that. I don’t want to be a thief.”

  Nyssa picked herself up and skirted her way around Al until she could stand at Theo’s side. The match flame, their only insurance, flickered. The fire was dangerously close to Theo’s fingertips now, but the boy held steady.

  “I … I only have my trade to give you, but with that money, we won’t need to steal for a good long while.” Al stepped closer.

  Dropping the knife, Nyssa took the matchbook from Theo and struck another.

  “He wants to come with me.” Nyssa frowned. “Look, you said you’re all about family? Well sometimes what’s best for your family isn’t best for you. You just got out of prison, Uncle, and all you know how to do is go back to crime. Is that really what you want for your son?”

  “It was good enough for me and my dad.” Al stuck his chin in the air.

  “Really? Prison was good enough? Living in constant fear that your co-workers will stab you in your sleep for a bigger cut was good enough?” Nyssa handed the matchbook back to Theo who dropped his spent match and lit another. She forced her hand steady, though a tremble welled up from her stomach. “I lived that life, and there wasn’t a day I wasn’t absolutely terrified. He’s a child. Give him a chance.”

  Al’s shoulders slumped. “He’s … he’s my child.” His voice wavered slightly. “He’s mine, and I’ll raise him as I see fit. My dad made me work for my keep, and so will Theo.”

  Nyssa bit her bottom lip. Theo’s bony shoulder pressed into her side as the urge to protect him tightened around her heart like a noose. Uncle Al’s eyes watered, and for a moment he looked so much like Theo Nyssa couldn’t believe she’d missed their connection.

  How did I never see how broken Uncle Al is? He never had any more choice than I did, than Theo does. Hanging onto Theo, to this insane idea that he’s doing the right thing as a father, has to be all he has left. How can I get through that?

  “Give me the money, Theo,” Nyssa whispered. Theo passed her the bag.

  Nyssa reached inside and pulled out a small stack of bearer bonds. “These are worth about a thousand a piece, and I believe there are ten in the stack. That’s how much you said I owed you, for raising me? Right?” She held the bonds forward. “We’re even. I’ll take care of Theo now. You don’t have to worry about him. He’ll have a home, food, clothes … and even school. He won’t have to be frightened ever again. He’ll have family. He’ll learn a good trade, and when he’s a man, he’ll know that he has these things because you let him go. Take the money. Leave me Theo.”

  “I’d never hurt my son. I never even raised a hand against you, unless you sassed.” Al scowled. “You can’t buy him off me.”

  “No, as I said, the money is to … pay you back for taking such good care of me.” The words stuck in her throat. “Now it’s my turn to take care of your son. It’s a fair trade.”

  “Why don’t I take the money and the boy?” He lunged for Nyssa, fist first.

  “Don’t!” Theo shoved forward. Nyssa put out an arm to protect him, but Al’s knuckles grazed the boy’s cheek. Theo grunted and landed at Nyssa’s feet. Al fell back, mouth agape.

  “Theo!” Nyssa dropped the money and cradled the boy.

  “I’m okay,” he mumbled.

  “I didn’t mean … you idiot boy, why did you … You shouldn’t have got in the way.” Al’s hands shook. “Get up. We’re leaving.”

  “He’s hurt!” Nyssa snapped. “The police are coming. Are you going to drag him away by force? He doesn’t want to go.”

  Theo’s lip quivered. “Please, Dad, let me go.”

  Al’s face squeezed like a prune. His eyes darted to the alley’s mouth then back to his son. His expression hardened. “Having you along would slow me down, anyway. You’re too soft for the business.” Al bent and picked up the bonds Nyssa had dropped. He flipped through them then stuck them into his mud-streak
ed vest. “You always were a mess of trouble, girl, from the moment I took you in. Ten thousand doesn’t begin to cover my mental anguish.”

  “It’s a fair amount.” Nyssa frowned. “Can Theo and I go?”

  Al nodded. Nyssa pulled Theo away, towards the main street. She glanced back and saw Uncle Al disappear into the shadows.

  “And I forgive you,” she whispered, surprised to find she actually meant it.

  ***

  When Nyssa and Theo climbed aboard the trolley, the engineer narrowed his eyes at her and several passengers moved towards the back. Nyssa cleared her throat and tried to dust some of the street muck from her face and hands. She’d redonned her peacoat and skirt over her soiled clothing, but there had to have been a fair mix of garbage in that alleyway mud. She wasn’t very fond of the stench rising from her drenched leggings.

  Theo, however, leaned against her as if she smelled of roses.

  “Is Ellis … do you think he’ll be mad at me?” he asked.

  “No. He may have some questions, though. I know I do.” She ruffled his hair.

  “Maybe you could ask me and then you could tell Ellis.” He looked up hopefully.

  “I suppose … why did you let Al take you? You could’ve told me what he had planned instead of letting him in.”

  “I almost did … but after we got back from buying my clothes, I saw him staring through the back window. He beckoned me out and said he’d tell the police that I was planning to steal from you if I didn’t help him.”

  Nyssa shook her head. “They wouldn’t listen to a man like him.”

  “They listened when he told all those stories about you.”

  She hesitated. They certainly had. “Well, it’s over now. The day you picked Ellis’s pocket, was that to get captured? Was it Al’s idea or yours?”

  “Sort of both.” Theo shrugged. “I was supposed to get the house key. Dad was convinced you guys had a stash of money and if he could just get inside we’d be set for life. Instead, I reached in the wrong pocket and just got a watch … then you saw me and I couldn’t try again. I was afraid what Dad would do if he found out I’d messed up his whole plan, and I guess it made me careless when I tried to pick that next lady’s pocket.”