The Troublesome Apprentice (The Adventures of Xavier & Vic Book 1)

by Liza O'Connor

  “And you built this?”

  “No, my professor did. Brilliant man and most generous. When I asked if I could borrow it, he handed it over without hesitation.” She cranked the handle. “Here we go… He went this direction.”

  “Mind if I follow along? I’m most impressed.”

  She smiled. “Xavier told you to accompany me, didn’t he?”

  Davy shrugged. “I’m very interested,” he insisted.

  “Come along. You can stand witness to my success.”

  As Vic made her way down the street, the conversations people openly discussed amazed her. Some of the topics were even pertinent to Lady Anne’s case. Evidently, the Earl of Carlington would attend a ball tonight. One young woman boldly declared his purpose was to find a bride and herself to be the obvious choice.

  When the invisible trail led to a closed Bow Runners’ office, Vic sighed with disappointment. She’d never know who engaged the Bow Runners to send the boy to watch their office.

  “That’s all right, you tried.” Davy patted her on her back. “And you’ve proven your little box works.”

  Vic wanted to prove more. She picked up the boy’s tracks leaving the building and continued to track him.

  “Where are we going now?” Davy asked with clear concern in his voice.

  “I plan to discover where the boy lives and question him.”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea. This could end badly,” Davy protested.

  “He’s just a small boy.”

  “His parents are probably larger. Vic, we shouldn’t be here,” Davy complained.

  The worry in his voice caused her to stop and assess her environment. The neighborhood had deteriorated significantly. In fact, it resembled the horrible place she and Xavier had visited to find Edward Wimple. Determined to locate the boy she continued on. Less than a block later his trail led into a crowded men’s club. Knowing the box would bring unwanted attention inside the establishment and she would never hear the clicks over the noise, she handed it to Davy and asked him to wait.

  “Vic, I don’t think—”

  She disappeared into the den of iniquity before Davy could finish his objection.

  Standing in the middle of the room near the gaming tables, she perused the crowd, searching for the young boy, wondering why he had come in here at all. Her attention stopped on the familiar face of Aaron Hart. His eyes widened upon noticing her and he gave her a slight nod. Not wishing him to think her rude, she headed his way.

  Halfway there, a drunken gentleman snared her arm. “Haven’t seen you before,” he slurred. “Pretty thing…let us go upstairs and you can tell me what you like.”

  “I will tell you here,” she said.

  “I’m listening.” The man smiled in happy anticipation.

  “I would like you to get your drunken hands off me before I shoot you in the chest,” Vic warned in a low dangerous voice. She wrenched her wrist from the man’s grasp and reached inside her vest for her gun.

  The man threw up his hands and backed away. “Misunderstanding, no harm.”

  “Don’t make it again.” Vic continued on to Aaron, who now stood, his expression tense.

  Damn it all. Xavier would no doubt hear about the altercation. He’ll probably use it as a reason never to let me go out on my own again.

  She forced a smile to her lips, hoping to make Aaron forget all about the incident.

  “Victor,” Aaron said and resumed his seat.

  Sitting in the plush leather chair across from him, she leaned forward not to be overheard. “The Earl won’t be here tonight. He’s attending the Rutherford’s ball in search of a bride. I believe his mother finally has him sober enough to understand his responsibilities. I don’t think he will be allowed in gambling dens again until they have him safely married.”

  Before Aaron could respond, a waif of a man, wearing a lime green jacket and a bright pink vest, sashayed up to Aaron. “Aaron, darling. I am thrilled to find you here.” He sat on the padded arm of Aaron’s chair and took note of Vic. His face pulled as if she stank of week-old fish.

  With little enthusiasm, Aaron introduced them. The odd little man turned out to be the infamous comic playwright, Albert Finn.

  “So…are you two together for the evening?” Albert asked.

  Choking on his drink, Aaron replied, “No, I came to escape my hotel room. Victor just happened to see me and stopped by to say hello.”

  “Then the boy will not mind if I steal you away?” The little man’s eyes narrowed as he jerked his head to the right in clear go away motion, which she pointedly ignored.

  “Not at all,” Aaron assured him. “But may I know to where I’m to be stolen?”

  Albert leaned towards him. “I have a very dear friend who needs cheering up tonight, and I think you will suit the bill.”

  “Sorry—”

  “Before you refuse, at least hear my friend’s sad plight. He was a member of our club. In fact, you replaced him.” Albert frowned. “I don’t think we should mention your membership, for he is depressed enough as it is.”

  Aaronsat up. “Are we talking about—?”

  With a finger to his lips, the playwright glanced at Victor.

  Her presence not only annoyed Albert but impeded Aaron from accomplishing his objective. “Please excuse me, I just remembered a pressing engagement,” she said and left the club in haste.

  She made Davy a happy man when she suggested they flag a cab and leave.

  Evidently, cab drivers recognized Davy, for the first two refused to stop. Fortunately, the third fellow greeted him like a long lost friend.

  “Did someone steal your carriage?” the man asked once Davy put Vic inside the cab and joined the driver.

  Vic couldn’t hear his reply but could not imagine how Davy would explain the situation. I had to follow my employer’s secretary about to ensure the young boy comes to no harm, would no doubt cause the driver to ask wouldn’t have it been easier to do so with a carriage. Poor Davy. He wouldn’t like his friend thinking him a fool.

  Failing to mention where she wanted to go, she smiled when the carriage pulled up to her home. As she departed, she ensured Xavier had given him sufficient money to pay the cab fare. Davy laughed and said he’d be just fine. As she turned to walk inside, she overheard the driver declare her a thoughtful feller and Davy agreed.

  When she joined dinner, already in progress, Claire asked what had become of her sidekick.

  “Davy went home.”

  Claire choked on her wine. “Your other sidekick, the one who fancies himself your master.”

  Vic frowned at the mention of the M word she so detested. “To be honest, I’ve no idea where my employer is or what he is up to.”

  “It is probably something to do with the government,” Claire said. “How did the mixture work out?”

  “Well, the ionization machine picked up the powder beautifully. Unfortunately, it was not able to lead me to a resolution of the case since the trail ended at the Bow Runners office, which was closed.”

  “Your competition.”

  Vic snorted in contempt. “Hardly. They are amateurs compared to Xavier. Just because they stole their name from the Bow Street Runners doesn’t mean they acquired their talent. However, they have too many customers to determine who requested Xavier’s office watched.”

  “I think you are a bit put out with Xavier for leaving you out of his new case,” Claire teased.

  “Not at all. I intend to have my own cases, so I cannot object to him having his as well.”

  “I may have a case for you.”

  “A real one, or something you’ve created to appease my feelings?”

  “Truly, I have not the time or energy to do the latter. No, I’ve a real puzzle. The cook is convinced the butcher is cheating her by declaring the weight more than it is.”

  Vic sighed heavily. “Tell her to take a pound weight from my room and test the man’s scale.”

  “We have already done
so and it weighed one pound,” Claire said. “However, when she brought the beef home, we weighed it on my scale and it was two ounces light.”

  “He must have a means of altering the weight. When is the cook buying meat again?”

  “Tomorrow morning at six.”

  “I’ll go with her and see if we can straighten the matter out.” Vic thought it hardly a case at all.

  “It will mean the world to Cook. The matter upset her a great deal.”

  Jonas leaned in and refilled Claire’s wine as he softly declared, “An unhappy cook is a perilous danger.” He flexed his fingers. “Almost lost them today…”

  Claire’s eyes rounded. She turned to Vic. “It is imperative you solve this tomorrow.”

  Chapter 29

  Xavier woke Davy when he returned late that evening after yet another failed attempt to catch an elusive spy. “Did you see Vic safely home?”

  Davy sat up in his bed and nodded. “Yes, sir. He went straight inside. Still, I hung about to ensure he remained there.”

  “You’re a good man, Davy. I appreciate it. Did Victor have any luck following the boy?”

  “I didn’t think he had a chance, seeing as how the scamp left long before we started after him, but Victor had a clever box that could follow the dust he sprinkled on the steps. Led him right to the Bow Runners office.”

  “Really? I would like to know who sent the little nose to spy on me. I don’t suppose Vic went inside.”

  “It was locked, and I hope you never teach the boy how to pick locks.”

  “I have to teach him sometime. It’s a tool of the trade,” Xavier insisted.

  “Not just yet, sir. I’ve a bad feeling about the matter.”

  “I’ll let it slip my mind for the moment. Sleep well, my friend.” With a nod, he returned to his room.

  Despite his exhaustion, sleep evaded Xavier. He missed Vic’s body pressed against him. Ironically, he struggled to sleep with her body next to him, as well. Truth be told, their current state of affairs proved most frustrating.

  Her request to go slow seemed to be a desire to go backwards. Not only would she no longer offer him release with her sweet hands, but this morning, she refused to kiss him.

  He sighed with frustration. What could he do to move this backwards-moving horse forward? He pondered the possibilities and smiled as one came to mind: Vic’s propensity for jealousy. The pup might not be ready to come to him, but she’d never allow someone else to take her place in his heart or bed.

  Yes, he had the perfect way to solve this matter.

  ***

  Xavier heard the office door open at five in the morning and soft footsteps climb the stairs. He frowned when the intruder entered the kitchen rather than his bedroom. If he didn’t turn Vic around soon, this horse would be galloping in reverse.

  He remained in bed, hoping he had misjudged her, but his pup returned downstairs without a single peek into his room. Damn it all, he did not change upon discovery of her secret, she did!

  By God, if Vic wanted war, the pup would get it. He rose and stormed to the kitchen where he found his coffee cup freshly washed and ready. No, such a small act of kindness would not change his mind. She had declared war and the battle must begin.

  Yet when he went downstairs, he discovered the office locked up and Vic missing. A note lay on her desk. Had she resigned again? Fury, panic, and worry roiled within him as he grabbed the note. It declared something only slightly less disturbing:

  I am on a case of my own this morning. Will hopefully be back before eight.

  Because he had disappeared on a case without her, she intended to punish him with the same? He sighed in frustration. Because it involved national security, he could not tell her the nature of the case he worked on. Nor would he have taken Vic in any case, since it involved a dangerous spy.

  Crumpling her note into a ball, he left it on her desk and stormed into his office where he concentrated on the inexplicable escape of the Scarlett Nun the day before. The spy proved amazingly adept at disappearing into thin air. The person he followed had been dressed as a man, but that meant nothing. A person this clever would have a hundred disguises hidden in a hundred rooms about London. Dressed in a different disguise, the agent may have followed him at the end of the day, while he floundered to pick up the trail.

  All they knew about the Scarlet Nun was he/she had extraordinary skill in entering locked rooms and unbreakable safes and always knew exactly what to take. If that had been the extent of the thief’s skill, they would now know his or her identity and the Scarlet Nun would rest in a secret jail guarded by the Queen’s men. Unfortunately, the Scarlet Nun proved to be exceptionally skilled at disappearing using flashy tricks of magic.

  Xavier thought the dramatic explosion of smoke overly theatrical and garish but it proved effective. Once the air cleared, the Scarlet Nun had vanished.

  He replayed the moment over in his mind. The man had crossed the street, cutting in between two wagons traveling in opposite directions. An explosion erupted, causing the horses of each carriage to panic. When the smoke cleared a few seconds later, the drivers regained control of their horses and continued on their way.

  Knowing the Queen’s Rifles would stop the drivers before the end of the block, Xavier remained focused on the crowd watching the commotion. Not only could he not find the man he had been following, but he did not see anyone suspicious walking away from the spectacle. The Scarlet Nun had inexplicably vanished.

  He believed the man had climbed into one of the wagons, but soldiers proved the assumption wrong as well. The two wagons were unloaded and every item examined. The drivers, taken in for questioning, appeared genuine in their outrage and declarations of innocence. While their interrogations continued, Xavier doubted they would provide any useful information.

  At exactly eight, he heard the office front door open and Davy say “Thank God.” He remained in his office, for he wanted the pup to see what he thought of her note. A few seconds later, Vic knocked on his door. He barked ‘enter’ and leaned back in his chair and glared at her when she rushed in, so out of breath she could barely speak. A part of him worried she had encountered some danger which required her to run, but more than likely she’d only hurried to avoid being late.

  “Cutting it a little close,” he said.

  “Sorry sir, but I had a case to solve. Also I stopped by the Savoy to see if Mr. Hart had a message for you.” She handed him a note.

  “What made you believe he would have anything to report so soon?”

  “I knew he left with Albert Finn, the playwright, last night to comfort the Earl of Carlington, who planned to attend a ball and begin his search for a bride.”

  “Exactly how did you come upon such knowledge while following a street runner for Bows?”

  “Well, I heard about the Earl attending the ball to find a bride while I followed the trail the boy left behind. Since the Bows Runner’s office was closed, I tried to follow the scamp to his home where I planned to badger the truth out of him.”

  Xavier’s face must have shown too much of his concern, for she quickly reminded him Davy was with her. “Oddly, the boy went into a gentleman’s club so I gave Davy my tracker and entered. I couldn’t find the scamp anywhere, but Mr. Hart sat by the fireplace, so I went over and relayed the information I had learned on the street. A short time later, Albert Finn arrived and invited him to go with him to help cheer up the Earl.”

  “And what occurred after that?”

  “I returned outside, Davy flagged down a friend of his, and they took me home.”

  “And the case you worked on this morning was obtaining this message?”

  Vic hesitated her brow furrowed. “No. I worked a case of my own. Once I solved it, I decided to stop by the Savoy to see if Mr. Hart might have a report on his progress.”

  “Did you at least apologize for waking him at such an ungodly hour?”

  She smiled. “He was in the process of leaving the Savoy and th
ought my arrival most timely. The note should tell you he will be staying at the Carlington’s estate and can be contacted there if needed.”

  “The envelope is sealed.”

  “He told me as well.”

  Xavier smiled. Damn it was hard to remain displeased with such efficiency. “Should I expect you to take cases on your own, frequently?”

  “I cannot presume to know the answer. I am not actively seeking cases just yet.”

  “Good, since it is not acceptable for untrained apprentices to take on their own cases.”

  “I’m not entirely untrained.”

  “No, you are not. You are proving even without some required basic skills, you can compensate most admirably. I would like to see and understand the mechanism you used to track the street boy yesterday.”

  “I left it at home.”

  Xavier frowned. “Well, sit down and explain it to me. According to Davy, the boy had left long before you began tracking him.”

  “True. However, the dust I had sprinkled on the ground had embedded in his shoes and left small particles of metal that excites the gases within the tube and causes them to ionize.

  While she had been perfectly clear with her simple answer, the moment he asked for greater detail she lost him. He stopped her and returned the focus on matters he could understand. “How long does this trail last?”

  “It depends on the mixture used and how contaminated the trail becomes.”

  “Explain,” he ordered. “In a clear fashion.”

  “Well, the trail was on a public street so while I might still be able to pick it up, it is possible the grains of the radium have been scattered by others walking over the boy’s path so I might not be able to identify the original trail any longer. Instead, I could get similar clicks no matter which direction I turn.”

  “You need to retrieve the instrument and show me what you mean.”