Steam Me Up, Rawley

by Angela Quarles

  “I didn’t realize you smoke.”

  “Not as a habit, but I do enjoy an occasional, excellent cigar.”

  Purchase made, they hustled onto the pier as the porter called, “All aboard! The Neptune departs in twelve minutes. All aboard!”

  “I suppose we could have left the ship after all,” Adele said. “The killer didn’t follow us.”

  “More than likely he supposed we’d already done so, and that was why he felt it safe to search your suite.”

  “That makes sense, which also means he’s not watching us too closely, or he would’ve known we hadn’t left.”

  “He has no reason to keep a close eye on you. You couldn’t leave the ship until now, after all.”

  Adele stopped shy of the entrance. “Can we wait outside here until the last minute? I’m finding the sun and air refreshing.” Loki chirped his agreement.

  They stood for a while, watching the fishing boats and the activity on the docks. Soon shouting erupted at the head of the pier. “Excuse me, coming through. Excuse me,” came a familiar voice.

  “Oh dear. My great-aunt.”

  They craned their heads and watched as a group of five elderly ladies and a gentleman pushed and shoved their way up the pier.

  “Is that a parrot?” Rawley asked.

  Adele stood on tiptoe. She groaned. “Yes. On Great-Aunt Linette’s shoulder. Loki’s going to love this.”

  “Ntchiki, britchiki.”

  Behind the group, a sweating porter lugged several boxes.

  “All aboard. Last call for The Neptune. All aboard. Departure in two minutes.”

  “Cutting it rather close, weren’t they?” She waved at her great-aunt as they neared and helped hustle them up the gangplank. The marine guard tailing them passed by, and the porter rushed ahead and deposited his burden.

  Great-Aunt Linette handed the porter some coin, and he dashed back down the gangplank. “What are you doing out here? Were you looking out for me? What a sweet dear.” Her hand gripped Adele’s. “We made it in plenty of time,” she continued as the gangplank folded up behind.

  “Actually, no. It’s a long story. I’ll tell you when we reach our cabin. Did you have fun?”

  A long, but satisfied-sounding sigh. “Loads. So many exotic things we found.”

  “I see that,” Adele said, eyeing the parrot, whose large and colorful body was almost as large as her great-aunt’s head. “Who’s your new shoulder pet?”

  “Oh! I forgot he was there. I think I’ll call him Bob.”

  “Squack! Get off your arses, you blimeys.”

  “He’s got a bit of a mouth on him,” her great-aunt observed unnecessarily. She motioned to the group of Blue Armbands hovering nearby. One came over. “Can you be a dear and help me with my purchases?” her great-aunt asked the man.

  “Certainly. Which are yours, ma’am?”

  “Oh.” She waved a hand. “All of them.”

  Of course.

  Adele risked a peek at Rawley, who looked like he struggled mightily not to smile. She wished he’d give in. He hadn’t smiled since the other night, and she missed it.

  Loki patted Bob on the head and barely snatched his paw away from the parrot’s sharp beak. Oblivious, her great-aunt said goodbye to her friends, one of whom reminded her that they had plans to meet later for a game of poker.

  Once in the elevator, her great-aunt turned to her. “So, what did you wish to tell me? I’m dying of curiosity and don’t believe I can wait until we reach the cabin.”

  “Very well, I should probably tell you before we get there anyway.” She took a deep breath. “Someone ransacked our rooms while you were ashore. Housekeeping is getting it straightened.” She filled her in on the details, but refrained from telling her who was responsible. She wasn’t sure how much the captain had chosen to tell his crew and didn’t want to reveal more than he’d wish in front of them.

  “Who would do such a thing? Were others robbed as well?”

  “Nothing was taken. And we were the only ones.”

  “Well, this is altogether strange. Why our cabin?”

  “That will have to wait until we reach our suite. We have our suspicions.”

  At their cabin, the Blue Armband deposited her great-aunt’s purchases.

  Adele whistled. “They cleaned it well.” She inspected the sitting area. “I guess they couldn’t do much about the cushions on the settee and chairs, though.” Over those, they’d spread and tacked down sheets. Not the most elegant solution, but the only one they probably had.

  They thanked the Blue Armband fellow. As soon as he left, her great-aunt rounded on her. “Spill, and fast, as I want to make our poker game. Now which box did I have...?” She opened boxes left and right, paper flying and Bob squawking.

  As she did so, Adele and Rawley took turns telling her what had happened.

  Her great-aunt looked up at the tale’s end. “So that’s the real reason you couldn’t come ashore originally. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “We didn’t want to alarm you unnecessarily.”

  “Well, okay then. Aha, here they are.” She removed a bundle wrapped in burlap. “Got a case of Ybor cigars. Want to try one while we play.” She strode to Rawley. “So you got this, right?”

  He gave her a perplexed stare, and she patted his shoulder. “Good man. Well, I’m off. Wish me luck!”

  “Squack! Your ass is grass! Squack!”

  “Hush, Bob.”

  “Screeth ree!” Loki shook a fist at the parrot.

  At the mirror, her great-aunt tucked in a stray curl, pushed her hat to a more jaunty angle, and swept out the door.

  Adele couldn’t help it—she sat down hard on the settee and laughed. Tears trickled down her face. She gasped for air. “I’m sorry. I expected a completely different reaction.” She sat straighter, trying to regain her composure.

  Rawley at last let himself smile. That made her laugh all the harder. Finally, she got herself under control.

  “I’m picturing the sight you two will make,” he said.

  She cocked her head in question, not trusting herself to speak.

  “You with a belligerent, armored monkey on your shoulder, and her with a foul-mouthed parrot.”

  “Oh my, yes.” It was good to be laughing again, and at least seeing him crack a smile.

  Progress, and what a great feeling that was. But awkwardness could follow. She stood. “What should we do next? I’m thinking we should at least visit the captain to see if he has any news.”

  “Excellent notion.”

  On their way to the captain’s quarters, Adele consulted a map she’d picked up. “Before this trip is over, I’d like to visit the Topdeck Gardens. I hear it was designed by none other than Frederick Law Olmsted. He—”

  Cold steel pressed against her throat, and the map fluttered to the ground. Beside her, Rawley stiffened.

  “Nice and easy. Keep walking,” a gruff voice rumbled in her ear, the Spanish accent slight. Icy fear slithered down her spine. “Say one word, or raise the alarm in any way, and I will slice this pretty throat and put a bullet through your gentleman friend.”

  “Screetch scree!” Loki launched onto Guerrero’s head, for Adele had no doubt who breathed down her neck.

  The killer stumbled backward, blinded temporarily by the unexpected attack.

  Another screech and a scuffle, and Guerrero swatted Loki, sending him flying and slamming into the wall with a thud.

  “Loki!” she screamed, heart in her throat. Her monkey lay motionless on the floor. “You bastard,” she growled. She scooped up her monkey’s limp form, hugged him to her, and advanced on the killer.

  Rawley charged forward, but Guerrero had regained his composure and whipped his air pistol up, straight at Rawley’s chest.

  He straightened mid-stride. “Adele? Get behind me.”

  Holding Loki, she did as he said.

  Guerrero’s gaze darted around. His hair, slicked back with Macassar oil, parted off cente
r of his high forehead. Like Jenny said, his eyes were too close together on what would otherwise have been a handsome face. He waved the air pistol. “Back up slowly. Very good. Stop. Miss de la Pointe, see that gear lock at your elbow? Rotate it once, clockwise, then push.”

  Adele glanced down. A brass sign next to the round handle said in flowing script, “Life-Submersible 89.” The muscles in her dry throat worked to swallow as blood whooshed through her veins, leaving her lightheaded.

  “Miss, you will do as I say, or I will put a bullet through your gentleman friend. He is of no value to me.”

  Hugging Loki to her chest with the same arm that held her reticule, she followed his instructions, hand shaking against the cold steel wheel. The solid metal door released its lock with a clunk.

  “Now step aboard, my dear.”

  She backed into it, keeping her eye on Guerrero. When Rawley drew even with the door, Guerrero hesitated. He eyed Rawley, her, the door, and the hallway.

  “You too. On second thought, I cannot leave you, dead or alive, to raise the alarm, and I need you to pilot. I disabled the notification system, so we will be able to leave this ship without anyone noticing.”

  Loki stirred in her arms, and her knees went weak with relief. She kept a tight hold on him though, afraid he might try more heroics.

  With a final look along the hallway, Guerrero ducked inside the submarine. He edged against the wall, keeping his air gun trained dead center over Rawley’s heart. To her, he said, “Close the door and rotate the wheel the other way until you hear it lock into place.”

  She obeyed. “Now what?”

  “Cheeky, are you not?”

  She glared at him and tapped her foot.

  “Now, you are going to open the second hatch into the submarine, and we are going to launch ourselves off this ship and head for shore. Meanwhile, you are going to hand over that little packet the strumpet gave you.”

  Once inside the submersible proper with the hatch closed, Adele stared at the controls and then Guerrero.

  Guerrero eyed Rawley. “Pilot.” He swung the gun until it aimed at Adele’s heart.

  “First, he’s putting on one of these.” Adele pulled a cork-vest from a hook on the wall, lined up next to several underwater breathing suits. She strapped one around herself and threw one to Rawley, the cork’s rich, earthy scent and its welcoming weight helping to calm her somewhat. She strapped another onto Loki.

  “Afraid?” sneered Guerrero.

  “Cautious. Want one?”

  Confusion crossed his face. He shrugged and held out his other hand.

  Adele swung her arm to lob it gently like she’d done with Rawley, but at the last second, she sped up and threw it with more force at the gun.

  Guerrero ducked, and Rawley leaped forward. Adele jumped forward too, her reticule swinging. She caught Guerrero on his side, but it only distracted him. Please be enough.

  A brief tangle of limbs and grunts, then both men were standing straight, eyeing each other, breathing heavily.

  What happ—? Her gaze dropped: Guerrero’s air pistol was shoved against Rawley’s heart.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  In Which Our Hero Digs Deep And Becomes All Hero-y

  “Back away slowly. Nice try, miss. Do not try anything foolish like that again.”

  Adele swallowed and watched their movements avidly.

  Rawley eased backward, hands up.

  “Good.” Guerrero nodded to Rawley. “Now get in that seat and launch this submersible.”

  “I have no idea how to pilot one of these.”

  “It matters not. These life submersibles are practically foolproof. Meant to be used by panicked passengers when abandoning a sinking ship.” He waved a hand toward the instrument panel. “Follow the printed instructions you see there. Each harbor emits a signal, which this submersible can pick up and steer toward. Steer around any obstructions, and the submersible will self-correct its course afterward.”

  Guerrero tilted his head toward her, but didn’t take his gun off Rawley. “You sit in the co-pilot seat where I can keep an eye on you.”

  “How do you hope to succeed?” she asked. “At the harbor, this will look mighty suspicious.”

  “No, it will not.” With his free hand, he donned the cork vest.

  Oh. Her stomach dropped, and an icy horror crawled across her skin. He was going to kill them. After he got what he wanted.

  “What makes you think I have the item you seek?”

  “It was not in your room.”

  “So you think I have it with me?”

  “Where else would it be? It is far too valuable to leave behind. I searched your rooms only to be thorough in case you were an imbecile and left it out of your sight. Would have been much easier.”

  “But I don’t—” In her periphery, Rawley shook his head slightly while he studied the instructions. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about,” she amended lamely.

  “Do not play stupid, miss. That trollop who stole it from me passed it along to you somehow.”

  “What’s so important about this item?”

  “As if I am going to tell you.”

  The submersible lurched as Rawley engaged the engines and launched it from the main ship. He stared forward, white knuckles gripping the wheel, jaw locked, grim.

  The motion jarred something loose within her—they were nothing to this man, only impediments. Impotent fury choked her throat. She tamped it down and speared the killer with a withering—she hoped—glare. “Now you’re the one playing stupid, sir.” Rawley shot her a panicked glance. “We both know you’re going to kill us after you get what you want.”

  Loki struggled in her arms and gave a muted screech. She held him tight. “Shh, Loki.”

  “I am not falling for that trick either. You wish me to confess all, and then you will do something heroic to defeat me, but think again. It will not work.” A muscle near his eye beat a fast rhythm.

  “If you’re so confident, there’s no issue. I’m a reporter. I’m curious. I can’t help it. Since I don’t have long for this world, it’s the least you can do, satisfy my curiosity.”

  His lips rolled inward, and he looked away.

  “So, you’re Jack the Ripper,” she said in a musing tone, tapping her chin. “Someone who enjoys slashing open helpless women.”

  “It was not enjoyable to me,” he barked. He clamped his lips shut.

  Interesting. “Seems like you did to me. Gutting them after killing them by strangulation. Yeah, you’re a real do-gooder.”

  The killer shuddered. “I had to,” he choked out, and the muscle near his eye jumped faster and faster.

  “Why?”

  “Jenny betrayed me. She hid. If I could not get to her...”

  “That must have been awful for you,” she continued, voice low with false sympathy.

  “Horrible.” He shuddered again. “All that gore. I washed my hands for hours afterward.” He stared at them, flipping his free hand back and forth.

  “What’s so important about this item you’d endure all that?”

  His jaw thrust forward, and he stared straight ahead.

  “I already have an idea. They’re plans for the war-submersibles being built for the government.”

  He stared at her, eyes rounded. “How could you know?”

  “We looked at them under a microscope.” She kept her brother’s role out of it on instinct.

  “Well, then, you should know certain parties will pay a fortune for those plans.”

  “So that’s what this is all about? Money?” His Spanish accent hinted at deeper motives, though.

  “Money is everything.” He aimed the air pistol at her heart. “Now, hand over your reticule.”

  She shook her head, and he lunged. She leaned back and gripped it against her chest, but his stronger hand ripped it from her grasp, breaking the strap. He emptied it onto the floor and pawed through the contents. “Where is it?”

  Her heart
did an oh-what-are-you-going-to-do-now stutter. “I’m not telling.”

  “You do not have a choice.”

  “Actually, I do. You’re going to kill us anyway, so I don’t see the point in telling you.”

  The killer growled in frustration. She faced forward, satisfied she’d scored a point.

  The ground outside sloped up, the water lighter, so they must be nearing the shore. A shipwreck hulked in front of them, a little to the right. Multi-hued fish darted in and out, in undulating waves, involved in their own world, their own drama.

  “You will tell me,” Guerrero resumed, voice pitched higher. “Because if you do not, I will first kill your filthy monkey, then you can watch your friend here die, and there are many unpleasant things I could do to you before I kill you.”

  A shudder rocked her, and she squeezed Loki tighter against her chest. Rawley caught her gaze and nodded toward the wreck.

  His hands gripped the wheel, and he kept a straight course for the wreck, his knuckles white and prominent in its grip.

  She gave a slight nod of understanding and held Loki tighter, her fear of water returning with a vengeance. She shoved it aside and concentrated on breathing through her nose and finding that peaceful spot he’d helped her find before. She hoped they’d reach the wreck before the killer enacted his threats.

  Stall. She needed to stall. “You’ll never get away with this.” She twisted to face him, using her body to block his view of the window.

  “I believe I will.”

  She shifted her legs under her skirts, bracing herself for the impact, but trying not to telegraph her actions to the killer.

  She heard Rawley counting softly. “5...4...3...2...1.”

  The submarine lurched, and a sickening screech of metal pierced her eardrums. The impact flung her hard against the side, but she sprang from the chair, releasing Loki, and tackled the killer.

  Their bodies landed hard against the floor. The gun clattered from his grip, and Loki jumped for it, throwing it farther out of reach.

  Water hissed into the submersible through a jagged hole in the front. No time. She kneed him hard in the groin and pushed to her feet. Rawley delivered a quick kick to the man’s head.