Cold Gold

by Victoria Chatham

  “That’s it, Miss Serena. That’s as Japanese as I c’n make yo’ in the time we got.”

  Serena surveyed herself in the long dressing mirror. “Very good, Hetty. Are the girls in place?”

  The girls Serena referred to were three plywood forms, painted to look as if they were wearing kimonos, and already placed on the stage. Serena stood behind the centre model with the name Yum-Yum printed across the right shoulder. The model to her right was Peep-Bo and the one to her left Pitti-Sing. Tommy’s toe taps faded away as he left the stage and Serena hardly heard Jem’s exchange with the house as he introduced her again. The strains of ‘Three Little Maids’ began. The curtain lifted to a round of raucous laughter as Serena bobbed her head in time to the music.

  “Three little maids from school are we, pert as a school-girl well can be,” she sang. “Filled to the brim with girlish glee, three little maids from school are we.” She waited for two more bars from Lorelei and then sang as Yum-Yum, “Everything is a source of fun.”

  One quick step to her right and Serena was behind Peep-Bo’s figure. “Nobody’s safe, for we care for none.” Laughter erupted from the crowd as Serena became the flirtatious Peep-Bo.

  Two steps to her left and now Serena was singing Pitti-Sing’s line. “Life is a joke that’s just begun.” She gave a little backward kick with her left foot, making sure the audience could see it and then she was Yum-Yum again singing, “Three little maids from school.”

  By the time the song finished the audience roared with laughter at her antics as the three little maids. The applause deafened her. The curtain closed and Serena hurried back to Hetty. Jem called Tommy back and from the front of the stage the sound of his feet drummed on the boards as he performed his energetic buck and wing routine.

  Serena listened to the applause for him as Hetty removed her wig and quickly wiped the white make-up from her face.

  “Hold out yo’ arms,” Hetty instructed and in a flash hooked Serena back into her blue dress and then removed the bottom flounce of the skirt, revealing Serena’s trim ankles.

  “And now for the star of our show, Lady Serena,” Jem sang out and the audience clapped and roared with delight.

  Serena strolled onto the stage as casually as if she were taking a Sunday afternoon stroll. She smiled at the applause that greeted her. Just you wait, she thought, and started singing, “The boy I love is up in the gallery.”

  At the end of the second verse, singing of her love for a young cobbler, she turned and swept a graceful hand gesture towards the gallery.

  And faltered.

  Randolph leaned over the gallery handrail, peering down at her.

  Her voice caught in her throat, but she quickly recovered and carried on. Every time she came to the chorus her anxious gaze swept to the gallery, but she could no longer see him. As soon as she came to the end of her number, she barely waited for the curtain to close before she rushed off stage amidst a torrent of applause, whistles and cat-calls.

  “Randolph’s here,” she said to Lorelei. “He was up on the gallery. I saw him. I must find him.”

  Maggie grabbed her arms. “Lorelei saw Eddie at every corner for months after he died, swore she heard his voice as she lay down at night and once was sure he touched the back of her hand. I hope you’re right about Randolph, Serena, I really am, but you can’t abandon the show now. You’ll cause a bloody riot. Here, Hetty, you tell her.”

  “Maggie’s right,” Hetty said. “Yo’ still got half the show to go. Then we he’p yo’ look.”

  Serena fanned her face with a sheet of music and tried to collect her thoughts. How could she bear to wait until the end of the show? Hetty put a hand on her shoulder and turned her around.

  “Now, yo’ hold still while I fix this outfit.”

  Serena hardly felt Hetty’s deft hands remove another flounce from her dress and hook on the black lace overskirt. Black feathers now trimmed the low neckline and the hemline hovered mid-calf, revealing mesh stockings and spool heeled black leather boots that Maggie laced up for her.

  “Nearly ready, Miss Serena. Jus’ this one li’le piece to go.” Hetty pinned a net and black feather confection into Serena’s hair. “There. All done.”

  Serena nodded but her heart pounded and for a moment she felt lightheaded. Could she be wrong? Had stress and wishful thinking clouded her vision? No, her heart told her. He was out there, somewhere in the audience. She felt his presence, felt his eyes on her. Somehow she would get through the show and then find him.

  She strolled back on to the stage when Jem introduced her again, smiling at the hoots and hollers that greeted her, knowing that her costume was now more in keeping with what they expected to see. Serena waited for the opening bars of music before starting to sing the story of Obadiah Binks, who proposed to his lady love but left her in the lurch. Serena pulled from her décolletage a folded sheet of paper and waved it at the audience.

  “Here’s the very note, this is what he wrote,” she sang with a sob in her voice. “Can’t get away to marry you today, my wife won’t let me.”

  The audience erupted with laughter and Serena paraded to and fro across the front of the stage, encouraging the audience to sing each chorus with her. When she finished, she came centre stage and waved for quiet.

  “My next song is ‘Down at the Old Bull and Bush’. If you know it, sing along with me.”

  The club filled with sound of tenor, baritone and bass voices as the audience joined in with her, almost raising the roof with joyful volume as she encouraged them to sing louder. She earned a standing ovation as she came to the end, and curtsied left and right.

  “And what do we think of Lady Serena?” called Jem as she left the stage.

  At the deafening applause Serena grinned at Hetty, who waited with a cloth in her hand to remove tiny beads of perspiration from Serena’s face.

  “Yo’se doin’ fine, honey. Only one more numbah’ to go.” Hetty unhooked the black lace overskirt and then removed the skirt from the bodice of her dress and replaced it with a skirt of dark blue on the outside and yards of lighter blue and white flounces on the inside. “That’s it. All ready fo’ yo’ finale, Miss Serena.”

  Serena waited in the wings, watching the Chinese tumblers build their six man pyramid all the while juggling with clubs. Their speed and accuracy was not lost on the crowd, who watched them in amazed silence. When they finished, the man at the top of the pyramid leapt down to the stage, followed by the next two, until all six performers stood side by side taking their bow.

  One more song, Serena thought. Just one more. Then she would be done.

  Jem introduced her final number. Lorelei’s fingers pounded the piano keys and the audience roared their appreciation as they recognized the opening bars of ‘Tarara Boom De Ay’. Serena stepped across the stage swishing her full skirt, revealing a little more leg with each step that earned her whistles and shouts and wild cheers. She waved them into silence and sang the first verse, but when she began the chorus the audience leapt to its feet and cheered when she high kicked on every ‘Boom’. Five verses and five choruses later she had won over every person in the audience, male and female, and made her exhausted exit.

  ~*~*~*~

  King looked around the club at the cheering crowd and glowed with a sense of well being. The lady had a totally unexpected side to her and held the whole room enthralled. Visions of a future with her tied to his coat tails by a beneficial contract, beneficial to him, naturally, filled his mind. He tipped his chair back, drew on his cigar, and smiled with satisfaction. That smile faltered as a hand slid onto his shoulder and held him in a grip like steel. He sensed bodies either side of him, then a face coming close to his. He felt the warm breath of a whisper on his skin, soft yet as deadly with purpose as the grip holding his shoulder.

  “I take it you enjoyed my wife’s performance?”

  King froze, then twisted around to look at the man he thought was dead. He held his breath for one moment, then tore him
self away from Randolph’s grip, panic clear in his white face. He rushed onto the stage and grabbed Serena’s arm, dragging her with him into the wings where they came face to face with the threatening figures of Maggie O’Connor and Lorelei Sutton. He whirled around but Buxton and another man blocked the way to the stage. Seeing that he had no chance to drag Serena away with him, King pushed her aside and charged the pair of men, barging between them and pushing them roughly aside. He made his escape across the stage, crashing through chairs and music stands before leaping over the footlights. The crowd parted as he thrust people aside and ran out through the open door with Montgomery close behind him.

  Randolph looked around for Serena just as she tore herself away from her friends’ protecting arms and leapt into his own.

  “Oh, Randolph,” she sobbed against his chest. “Where have you been?”

  He gathered her into the circle of his arms, felt her arms slide around his waist. He ran his hands over her back, comforting himself as much as her. He leaned in and kissed her.

  “It’s a long story, my darling,” he whispered in her ear, “but I must help Montgomery. Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

  “Randolph, don’t go!” Serena clung to him.

  Randolph pulled her arms from his waist. “I must see the end of this thing.”

  “We’ll take care of you for a short while longer.” Maggie stepped forward and put her arm around Serena’s shoulders, then nodded to Randolph who turned and raced out of the building.

  He paused for a moment outside the door of the Men’s Club to get his bearings.

  “Which way did they go?” he yelled at a bystander.

  “Towards the station,” someone barked back.

  Randolph pounded along the boardwalk, his footsteps echoing in the dark. He reached the steps at the end of the walk, jumped down and crossed the street to tear around the corner of the bank. There he paused again, heard angry voices ahead of him. Montgomery and King stood outside the mine office.

  “Take one step closer, and I’ll shoot.” King pointed a pistol at Montgomery.

  “There’s no point in adding murder to your list of crimes.” Montgomery rocked back on his heels, hands in his pockets as if he had not a care in the world.

  “You have no proof I’m guilty of anything,” King sneered.

  “Actually, old boy,” Randolph added casually as he came to a halt beside Montgomery, “you’re completely wrong on that score. It took longer than I expected to unravel your paper trail and uncover all your empty little shell companies, but unravel it I did. Quite ingenious, but terribly illegal. Did you really think you’d get away with it?”

  An expression of fear flashed across King’s face and his gun hand sagged. Randolph lunged forward but before he could reach King the sudden flame of a muzzle flash split the darkness and the sound of a gunshot shattered the night around them.

  King groaned and slumped to the ground.

  Montgomery ran to the stricken man and knelt beside him, feeling for a pulse. Randolph followed him but Montgomery looked up and shook his head.

  Stiles strolled from the shadows beside the station, holstering his gun. “Did I wing him?”

  “No.” Montgomery’s voice was colder than ice. “You killed him.”

  Johnson caught up to them, breathing hard, with two more men behind him.

  “Stiles, wait for me in my office,” he snapped. “You two, get King off the street.”

  Randolph and Montgomery stepped aside as Stiles passed them. They looked at each other, then at Stiles’ retreating back.

  “Do you think that was an accident?” Randolph asked quietly.

  “No, I don’t,” Montgomery replied. “And I’m positive Stiles attacked you. He must have been up to his neck in this business and saw a way out by killing King. For all the facts we do know, there are some questions that will probably never be answered now.”

  Randolph nodded his agreement. “If you don’t mind,” he said. “I’m going back to my wife.”

  Montgomery grinned. “Give her my congratulations. She could cut a whole new career path, as could you. It’s been a pleasure working with you. If you ever want to take up full-time detective work, get in touch with me.”

  The two men shook hands and Randolph wasted no time in getting back to the club.

  As soon as she saw him, Serena tore herself away from Maggie and Lorelei and threw herself into his arms again. She had traveled so far, had feared for his life, and now could not bear to let him out of her sight.

  “Randolph, don’t you dare ever leave me again.” Her eyes bored into his. “If you do, I swear I will shoot you.”

  Randolph looked into her clear gray eyes, saw the love behind her threat, and smiled.

  “We can’t have that,” he said, and dipped his head to kiss her.

  Maggie, Lorelei, Hetty and the people still milling around the club cheered them, and Randolph good naturedly waved them away.

  Serena looked up at him. “Please take me home,” she whispered.

  ~*~*~*~

  Home for the moment was their room at the Eldorado. The fire blazed brightly with a stack of wood on the hearth ready to replenish it. Lucy had furnished a tray with cold meats, cheeses, breads and cake. The food went unnoticed.

  Serena, now wrapped in a satin robe, retrieved Randolph’s watch from its nest in his jacket pocket. She went to him and curled up like a contented cat on his lap.

  “Hold out your hand,” she ordered.

  He did so and she pressed the watch into it.

  Randolph sat up straight, relief clear on his face. “How did you get this?”

  Serena dropped her head on his shoulder. “King gave it to me. I don’t know how he got it. Either stole it from you, or whoever hit you on the head gave it to him. How is your head, by the way?”

  “Better.” Randolph rubbed the small lump he suspected might always be there. “If it hadn’t been for John Woo coming to feed the dragon, I’d probably be dead.”

  Serena jolted upright. “What did you say? What was that about a dragon?”

  “Um, that was the excuse John gave his work crew when he left them to come and look after me.” A puzzled frown creased Randolph’s forehead. “Why?”

  “Because that dirty old town drunk kept telling me to feed the dragon,” Serena gasped. “How could he have known?”

  “Oh, you mean Trader.” Randolph hugged her. “Well, that dirty old town drunk as you call him apparently has quite a knack for predicting things. And I predict that I am going to kiss you breathless.”

  Randolph tilted his head and leaned in to kiss his wife, but Serena broke away and looked him in the eye.

  “So let me get this right,” she said. “Douglas King stole gold from the Cold Creek Mining Corporation for years.”

  Randolph nodded his dark head. “Correct.”

  “So that’s where he got the money for the club,” Serena mused.

  “Very much so,” Randolph agreed. “What’s worse, there is no way to even begin to assess how much that might be.”

  “And when we went to Australia you were there to learn about the gold mining process.”

  “Also correct.”

  “Why couldn’t you share that with me?” Accusation gave a strong edge to Serena’s voice. “And why didn’t you tell anyone about me?”

  “Because I didn’t want you to worry,” Randolph told her. “When I came to Cold Creek I thought I would be here two, maybe three weeks and then be on my way home which is why I never talked about you to anyone. But when I discovered how King was manipulating shares so that he could take control of the Corporation, I had to stay. I did write to you again, but I suppose you had already left by the time that letter arrived.”

  “I wanted to be with you so much.” Serena snuggled into his shoulder again. “But after the way we parted I wasn’t sure you would want to see me again.”

  “Not see you?” Randolph sat up and gripped her shoulders. “In God’s name, Serena
, why would you think that?”

  The doubt that had festered in her now seemed futile and she lowered her gaze, embarrassed. “Because I thought you didn’t love me.”

  Randolph groaned deep in his throat and gathered her into his arms. “I love you more than life, you silly girl. Don’t you know that?”

  Serena caught his face between her hands and looked into his eyes. “Then why won’t you love me completely, Randolph? Why, when we are in bed together, do you always leave me at the end?”

  “I make you happy, don’t I?” he asked, whisking a tear from her eye with his thumb.

  “Always,” Serena whispered, remembering his soft touch and the way his sure fingers brought her to one peak of delight after another. “But not in the way it should be.”

  Randolph set her gently aside and stood up. He went to the fireplace, placed his hands on the mantle shelf and dropped his head on them. If he was going to make Serena happy, he knew he had to tell her. He had to get out the words that so often choked him. There was no going back now.

  “I don’t want to have to make the same decision my father did.”

  “What has your father to do with anything?” Serena went to him, wound her arms around his waist and laid her head on his back. He covered her hands with his own.

  “I had a brother.” His voice was heavy with sadness. “Mother was forty-two when she became pregnant. She was ill almost from the start and had to stay in bed for most of that time. The birth was long and difficult. Finally the doctor asked my father who should he save, my mother or the baby. Father chose my mother. The baby was a forceps delivery.”

  Serena felt him shudder and held him tighter. She closed her eyes to prevent the tears spilling over, but couldn’t check them. She could not imagine what he must have endured. He would only have been twelve years old, with no one to hear his fears or comfort him.

  “I wasn’t allowed to see my mother until much later, but my old Nurse took me to see the baby. His name was Daniel. He was wrapped in a white blanket with a bandage on his head, but it didn’t disguise the shape of it. The forceps, you see, crushed his skull.” Randolph’s voice was quiet and as far away as his thoughts. “I touched his hand with my finger and he gripped it. That tiny boy somehow found the strength to hold me. I couldn’t let go. I didn’t want to let go. I stayed with him until he died. He was just ten hours old.”