I wanted to understand. I really wanted to be sympathetic, but the moment had felt so good. I wanted to go on living it. In truth, I had missed him desperately. And I was very certain that I was about to get to the truth. But once more, Jabberwocky’s ghost was back to haunt us. I couldn’t stand it. “Just go,” I said coldly.
William dug into his pocket and pushed a coin purse at me. “Please get some lunch. Spend it all. Buy anything you want. I need to attend to this matter, but I’ll be back. Meet me at six o’clock? The exhibition closes at seven. I’ll meet you inside?”
I slipped my blade back into the parasol handle, popped the parasol open, and turned back toward the Great Exhibition building.
“Alice,” William called to me.
“Fine,” I replied.
As I walked off, I heard Jack’s voice.
“Sorry. It’s just the captain stabbed two people already. Rabbit, run off and tell them we’re coming.”
I frowned and kept going. Well, William was right. He had shown me what life would be like if I went back to him.
Disappointing.
Chapter 11: Fool Me Once
Back inside the exhibit, I sat sipping a ginger beer and watching the diamond most of the afternoon. My analysis of the security was right. On first blush, the guards had seemed sparse and rather lax. That was, of course, a false assumption. There were many—many—security officers in black suits canvassing the place. I nibbled at my stale bread, the crumbly mess spoiling my fancy red dress, and tried to focus on the diamond. Instead, my mind drifted off to consider how everything had gone so terribly wrong. And whenever I posed that question to myself, a single night came to mind.
* * *
The job was supposed to be a simple one.
“Here is the address,” Jabberwocky had said, handing a slip of paper to me. He nodded to William. “Just the two of you. The banker left for Cambridge this morning. According to the maid, the safe is on the second floor behind a painting of Queen Victoria. Go now.”
“And what are we looking for?” William asked.
“Documents.”
“Surely he’ll have many papers on hand. How will we know which documents?” I asked.
“Just take all the papers you find in the safe. Leave anything of wealth. Just bring any papers,” Jabberwocky answered.
I frowned. It was unlike him to be so vague. But after that bloody business with Anna and the Queen of Hearts, I had begun to suspect Jabberwocky’s grasp was beginning to slip. Deals were going bad all around town. A new crew was starting to encroach on Jabberwocky’s territory, and he seemed reluctant to do anything to stop it. William had been patching the holes in the business and keeping things afloat. Jabberwocky seemed…distracted. I eyed him closely. Madame Mock, Jabberwocky’s mother, has degraded terribly in her final years. At the end, she knew no one, called Bess by her late sister’s name, and repeatedly asked for her mother. Jabberwocky seemed increasingly disorganized and distracted. I worried for him.
William nodded then turned to go. He only paused when he saw I wasn’t coming.
“If the papers are not in the safe, we’ll need to search the office. Sir, you know you can trust us. What are we looking for?”
Jabberwocky frowned then said, “The papers will contain the name Anastasia Otranto.”
“Who is Anastasia Otranto?” I asked.
“That’s all you need to know. See to it.”
“Yes, sir,” William said from behind me.
“Yes, sir,” I echoed.
Jabberwocky mumbled under his breath but never looked up at me.
I frowned and joined William.
“Nothing we can’t handle,” William said confidently as we headed out into the streets of London.
The sun was setting and there was a chill in the air. It was late fall. Winter was coming. Already the cough in Bess’s chest had started to rattle. I frowned and tried not to think of it. I pulled my coat tighter around me.
“You want to take a carriage?” William asked.
I shook my head. “Let’s walk. I want to think. I don’t like this. We don’t know anything. This is sloppy.”
“Ransom’s crew tried to take over another block today. Jabberwocky…I told him but he didn’t answer. Instead, he asked me to have some marmalade sent to his office. That was all. Jack and I are meeting with Ransom tomorrow. This job…something seems odd. Anastasia—whatever the name was—who is she?”
“I don’t know.”
William sighed heavily. He kept clenching and unclenching his jaw. What were we going to do? If Jabberwocky was slipping, it meant huge problems for all of us.
William and I worked our way across town until we came to the banker’s small townhouse. It was already dark, and the lamplighter had not yet arrived at this end of the street. The houses all along the row seemed empty, including the residence in question. We walked confidently to the front door. Doing so would put any passersby at ease. If we acted like we were supposed to be there, they would assume we were. I pulled out slim lock pick tools from the top of my boot and worked the lock. A moment later, the door opened, and we headed inside.
We paused a moment, closing the door quietly behind us. We stood still in the darkness, listening for any sounds of trouble.
The little house was quiet save the ticking of a clock. Nothing and no one was stirring.
William pulled out a pistol and a dagger, and we headed upstairs. William checked each room to ensure it was empty. We made our way to the second-floor office. The small space had a large desk littered with papers. The walls were lined with bookcases filled with leather tomes and other oddities.
I pulled the heavy drapes closed then lit a candle that was sitting on a desk.
There was a substantial amount of coin stacked there, but I didn’t touch it. I scanned around the room until I spotted a painting of Queen Victoria.
I motioned to William, and we headed toward the painting. It was attached to the wall but opened on a lever.
“Sorry, Your Majesty. Don’t look,” I told the image in the painting then pulled the lever.
The painting flapped open to reveal a safe built into the wall. I pulled a desk chair closer to the wall and climbed up so I could put my ear on the lock. I leaned in and began to slowly turn the tumbler. My ears pricked up, and I listened intently as the mechanism rolled as I turned the dial. It took some doing, but a few moments later, we both heard the telltale click as the safe unlocked.
“Got it,” I whispered.
William lifted the candle so I could have a better look inside.
Therein were numerous jewelry cases, gold watches, and stacks of coins. I moved them aside and pulled out a leather envelope. William held the candle while I untied the fasteners. I pulled out the papers from inside. I quickly noted a deed and a birth certificate with the name Anastasia Otranto thereon as well as some papers from the Bank of Scotland.
“Thieves,” a voice said from the office door.
William and I looked up to see a small man standing there. He was holding a lamp in one hand and a pistol in the other. From his dress, it was apparent he was the banker who was supposed to be in Cambridge.
I shoved the papers back into the envelope.
“Go,” I whispered to William.
I jumped from the chair as William turned and flung open the window.
“Stop or I’ll shoot,” the man said.
I cast a glance back. He was aiming his pistol at William.
“No need to get excited. You won’t find anything valuable missing,” I said.
William turned slowly.
“What? What are you talking about? What do you have there?” the banker asked. His glanced at the envelope. His eyes went wide. “Put those down,” he told me harshly, but his body belied the confidence he tried to exude. His hand was shaking, his finger squeezing the trigger too tightly. Just a tremor more, and we’d have a serious problem. He kept the gun on William, who was advancing slowly on him.
“Just stay calm,” William told him, putting on a false Irish accent. “No one needs to get hurt. Put that gun down.”
“Stop. Stop right where you are or I’ll shoot you both,” the banker told William.
Moving slowly, William pointed to the pistol in his own hand. “I seriously doubt you’re a faster shot than me. Why don’t you set that gun down?”
The banker looked at me. He was pale and trembling. “Put those papers down and go or I’ll shoot him.”
“Let’s just take it easy,” William said, stepping closer toward the banker.
“I said stop,” the man exclaimed.
William advanced quickly.
The man took a step back and fired.
William gasped as the shot grazed his shoulder.
A second later, the banker aimed again.
I had no time to think.
Dropping the pouch, I pulled the White Queen from my belt and threw her.
My aim was true. The dagger slammed into the man’s face, puncturing his eye.
His hold on the gun went soft, and the pistol fell to the floor. The man stood upright for a moment, a look of shock frozen on his face. Blood dripped from his eye. Then, he slumped to the ground.
William and I stood perfectly still.
The gunshot would be enough to raise an alarm. We needed to get out of there.
Collecting myself, I grabbed the file folder and rushed across the room. The banker lay dead on the floor. Blood pooled around his head. I reached down to pull out the dagger. She came loose with a spray of blood that covered my hands and forearms. “I…I killed him,” I whispered.
“Alice. Alice, I’m shot,” William said.
“He’s dead. I’ve killed a man.”
“You did it to save me. You saved my life, Alice.”
“But...he’s dead.” My stomach quaked so hard I almost vomited. I turned to look at William. He was holding his shoulder. Blood oozed from between his fingers. “William,” I whispered aghast, shocked to see him bleeding.
“We’ve got to go. Now. You have the papers?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s go,” William said.
Pulling myself together, I nodded. We rushed back to the window. Not taking a moment to even consider it, we both leaped to the street below. I felt a sharp pain in my ankle as I landed, but the call for the constables was already audible in the wind.
“This way,” William said.
Gritting my teeth, I ran behind him. We ducked down alleyway after alleyway. We raced quickly through the darkness. My heart pounded hard in my chest and over and over again I heard the voice inside my head screeching, you’ve killed a man, you’ve killed an innocent man. After we were half the city away, we stopped a moment in a darkened alcove. Wordlessly, William pulled off his coat. His shirt was drenched in blood. He was bleeding profusely, and his face had gone ashen. In the moonlight, I looked over the wound. I pulled a scarf from around my neck and wrapped it around his shoulder.
“Come on,” he said, then we headed back into the darkness until we reached the small flat where William lived.
My heart thundered in my chest. I was a pickpocket. Nothing more. I wasn’t a killer. But still, my hands were covered in blood. I had killed a man. And for what? For a handful of papers?
When we entered the flat, William motioned for me to follow him to the kitchen. There he pulled off his shirt and grabbed a pitcher of water. He motioned for me to put my hands over the basin. “You’ll need to inspect my wound, to make sure the bullet just grazed me, but you need to clean your hands first.”
He pulled some astringent off the shelf and splashed it all over my hands and forearms then poured water thereon. Grabbing the soap, I scrubbed my arms and hands until I felt like my own skin was going to come off.
“Alice, I think that’s enough,” William said, gently setting his hands on mine.
“I killed a man,” I whispered, turning to look at him. I hadn’t realized it then, but tears were streaming down my face.
William wiped my tears away with his thumb. “You did it to save me.”
“I just…I couldn’t let him kill you. I love you,” I whispered.
“Our job always comes with risk,” William said as he sat down. Wincing, he began to unwind the scarf from around his shoulder. “Risk of getting caught. Risk of getting jailed. Risk of a deal going bad and finding yourself on the wrong end of a fist. Risk of getting stabbed or shot. Risk of getting killed.” He dropped the bloody scarf on the floor. “We choose between a free life, this life, or servitude in a factory or at some bloody job shoveling shit.”
“And in this moment,” I said as I gently poured water onto his wounded shoulder, “this is preferable?”
“Can’t stand the smell of horse shit,” William said with a grin as he mopped sweat off his brow.
In spite of myself, I laughed. I cleaned the blood away from his wound as best I could then washed the wound again. After that, touching as gently as I could, I inspected the injury. “No bullet. It just grazed your shoulder.”
“There,” William said, pointing to a tin of salve on a shelf nearby.
Understanding his meaning, I grabbed the tin, applying the sticky substance to the wound, then grabbed one of William’s clean shirts sitting nearby.
I raised an eyebrow, tilting my head in apology, then ripped the shirt. Carefully, I bandaged his shoulder. As I worked, the scene replayed over and over again in my head. What had happened? How had everything gone so wrong? I didn’t know anything about the man save he was, in fact, a banker. He was a banker who had papers Jabberwocky needed. Just who was Anastasia Otranto anyway?
“Alice?” William said finally.
“I just,” I said then sat down in the chair near him. “William, I…”
“I know,” he whispered. I realized then that he was sweating profusely and his skin had turned milk white. “Alice,” he whispered weakly.
“You’ve lost too much blood. I need to put you to bed,” I said.
Lifting him gently, putting his good arm around my shoulder, I helped him to bed.
For as much time as William and I spent together, I had never stepped more than two feet into his living quarters before. They were sparse but neatly kept. He had a stack of books sitting at the end of his bed. And tied to the banister on his bed was a dried rose. I remembered then that it was a rose I’d given to him just that past summer. I smiled when I saw it.
“I need to send a messenger,” I said. “I need to let Jabberwocky know we got the documents, but there were complications. And I need to send a note to Bess, to let her know she shouldn’t expect me until tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“I can’t leave you alone. I’ll need to watch you in case you need a surgeon.”
William looked carefully at me but didn’t comment. “Second-floor flat, west end. There is a boy there.”
I grabbed some paper off William’s table and quickly composed two notes then headed out. In the flat on the second floor, I found a room full of children and one exasperated looking mother. She made a half-hearted attempt to smooth her hair and straightened her apron when she saw me.
“William needs a messenger,” I told the woman. “He told me—”
“Charles,” the woman called toward the rowdy gaggle.
One of the older boys came forward. He nodded to me. “William needs these messages delivered. Two addresses,” I said, handing the boy the papers.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. The boy took the notes, pulled on his coat, and headed out. I watched him go. When I looked back, I noticed the mother was standing with her hand outstretched.
I set a pile of coins in her palm then went back upstairs.
When I arrived, William was mostly asleep. I set my hand on his forehead. No fever. In fact, he felt chilled. I pulled another blanket over him.
“Alice,” he whispered.
“Don’t worry, I won’t leave you alone.”
&nbs
p; “It hurts. I have powder by the sink. In a green bottle. A spoonful in a glass of water.”
I rose and went to make the concoction. I found the bottle with the sharp-smelling herbal powder. I mixed it with some water then took it back to him.
“Where did you get this?” I asked.
“A witch,” he said with a laugh as he struggled to sit up.
“Of course,” I replied, smirking.
“I’m serious,” he said with a grin. Taking a drink, he handed the cup back to me. I helped him settle back into bed. I sat down beside him, brushing the hair away from his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Alice,” he whispered. “You’re too good for this life, too smart. Definitely too good for me.”
“You’re sorry? You’re the one who got shot. Jabberwocky is the one who should be sorry. And I’m no one special. I’m not better than you. I’m nothing more than a guttersnipe, just like you.”
“A smart one, and a beautiful one,” he replied, taking my hand into his. “And you’re my someone special.”
“William,” I whispered, warmed by his words. But even so, the image of the dead man flashed through my mind once more. My stomach shook.
William looked closely at me. “I know. I know you. Things will be different now. Your soul cannot abide it,” he whispered.
Moving carefully, I lay down beside him, setting my head on his chest. I pulled the White Queen out of my belt and let her drop to the floor. She rolled out of reach.
“I love you, Alice,” William whispered into my ear.
I closed my eyes and listened to the beating of his heart. “I love you too.”
A few hours later, there was a knock on the door.
I rose quietly and went to the door. The boy I’d sent with the messages was standing there.
“Sorry I took so long, miss. Ran into some…problems,” he said, pointing to his red and puffy eye.
“On no! Are you all right?”
“Oh, sure. The other boy ran home crying to his mother,” the kid said with a laugh, but then he turned serious. “Something odd going on, miss. There was no one at The Mushroom. Not even the guards. And at the house, well, there was a pretty lady there with curly blonde hair. The woman you sent the other message to. She said you and Master William need to come right away. She looked like she’d been crying.”
Curiouser and Curiouser: Steampunk Alice in Wonderland (Steampunk Fairy Tales) Page 8
