Phantoms In Philadelphia

by Amalie Vantana

  Ben and I spent time alone, and I learned that the marriage had been his idea. He promised my father grandchildren, the future generation of spies in exchange for my freedom. I would be out, and my children would take my place. When I told Ben that nothing would induce me to allow my children to become spies, he smiled at me and told me his plan. As soon as we were married, we were going to run away, to a place that my father would never find.

  I loved Ben, but I was not in love with him. What we had was more than flowery words and fluttery feelings. We had a bond of trust; roots entwined that ran deeper than any sentimental feelings. For the first time, I could place my faith in someone else and know that he was going to protect me.

  When the war broke out, we were sent to different places, he to Washington and me to Baltimore. Our wedding was put on hold. Jack left the Phantoms to fight in the army, and I was spying against the British. My father had stayed in Philadelphia, training a new group of children who would one day join the Phantoms.

  The day of my sixteenth birthday, my father and Ben arrived at the house that Mariah and I lived in with Freddy and his team. My father announced that Ben and I were to be married in one week, and I had never been more relieved. Later that night, Freddy was attacked while on a routine patrol, and we went after the men who attacked him. My father ordered us to split up and search the streets. Ben went one direction and Jack, and I went another. Something inside me screamed to go after Ben when we were a block away.

  Without a word to Jack, I turned back. When I found Ben, he was being beaten by a group of what I thought were ruffians. It was the ring they all wore on their right hands that told me who they were. Before I could reach him and rescue him, they shot him. When they heard Jack running toward them, they scattered, but I did not care. Ben died a few minutes later in my arms.

  That was three years ago. Now that I was the leader, I could get out, I could leave the Phantoms behind, but when Ben died, something new awoke inside me. A need for justice.

  After Ben’s death, his brother deserted us, and my father brought me home to Philadelphia for a few months, but not to grieve. He wanted help to train his next batch of spies. My father died before he could see them made Phantoms. My first act as the leader was to place them in homes with parents who would love them. I wanted to give them a new life. If they mentioned anything about their training, I never heard about it.

  ***

  As we stepped into the Harvey’s mansion, my eyes searched the crowd until I found a pair of green eyes that caused the flutters in my stomach to take flight, tumbling into each other. I never had that with Ben—that pulse-speeding, blood-surging, butterfly-tumbling, momentary insanity just from the sight of Andrew. It frightened me, because for a moment, I was not master of myself; my emotions took over, and I was helpless. I hated those feelings, but I loved them. I could feel. In those moments, I knew I was not broken, and Andrew gave that gift to me.

  Andrew was standing beside Edith, who was looking harassed and flushed. It was then that I remembered what she had told me that Mr. Madison was bringing a young man to meet her. Andrew was that young man. The thought soured my insides. I would never hurt Edith. But, the relieved look she cast me when we joined them spoke volumes. Edith had no feelings for Andrew.

  Jack and Andrew were speaking amiably when I overhead Andrew invite us both to go with him to Mr. Peale’s museum. “I have been promised a guided tour of the great incognito.”

  From the widening of his eyes, Jack’s interest was piqued. “By Peale himself?”

  “Of course.” Andrew looked rather proud when he added, “Being the nephew of the President does come with its advantages, you know.”

  Jack laughed; his excitement marked. “We should be very happy to accompany you.”

  When Andrew escorted Edith into the first dance, I placed a hand on my hip, angling myself toward Jack. “What makes you think I want to view rooms full of bones and stuffed dead things?”

  Jack smirked. “Give over, Bess. You know that you like him, and what is more, he knows it too. For as he said, being the nephew of the President does come with its advantages.” He looked at me with a light in his eyes and added, “You know.”

  Huffing in annoyance, I left Jack to his mirth.

  As Andrew squired me through the second dance, he spoke with a smile upon his lips that I was coming to adore. “I met your father once. He spoke of you with such fondness that I always craved an introduction, and now I am thankful to have been granted the desire of my heart.”

  “The desire of your heart, sir? Surely you must have more than one.”

  His dimples appeared as he leaned toward me, his green eyes full of emotions I was not prepared to analyze. “I have, but none, I am finding, hold a candle to meeting you.” I did not know what to say to that. For once, my lowered eyes had nothing to do with pretense.

  When we again joined Jack, he was standing with Guinevere, Hannah, and Dudley.

  “Whatever were the two of you speaking of? I declare I have never seen two people so engrossed in their conversation,” Hannah asked with a titter.

  I opened my mouth to say something sweetly cutting when Andrew replied. “We were speaking of our heart’s greatest desires.”

  “Odd dancing conversation,” Dudley interposed.

  I opened my fan and waved it before my heated face, as Jack stared at me with an amused lift to his black brows. Guinevere said nothing. Hannah was not so tactful.

  “I should like to hear your greatest heart’s desires, Mr. Madison, and perhaps together we could see to the acquisition.” Hannah was playing the coquette, and when she sent a smirk my way, I took a step toward her, forgetting my surroundings, my meaning clearly written in the depths of my furious eyes.

  Jack was the first to react, though I was sure everyone could guess my intent. Perhaps not my true intent. Most women did not consider murder in a ballroom an acceptable practice.

  Jack stepped between me and Hannah, but it was Dudley who spoke somewhat abstractedly from where he stood next to Hannah. “Cake, a rich soufflé, and a man who can make proper boots.”

  Everyone looked at Dudley in astonishment. He glanced around our group then shrugged. “My desires.” When no one seemed to be comprehending he added, “I thought we were speaking about our greatest heart’s desires.”

  Guinevere choked on a laugh and covered her mouth with her fan. Hannah cast Dudley a scornful glance. Andrew stared at Dudley as if he were mad. Jack laughed, loud and without restraint. The dangerous moment had passed, but that did not stop Andrew from asking Hannah to dance with him. She agreed readily, tossing a dangerously coy look over her shoulder.

  Jack offered his arm to Guinevere. She took his arm, and they went off together laughing.

  I was left alone with Dudley, and after a moment, I looked down at him in incredulity. “Is that truly what you desire? Cake, a soufflé, and a man—”

  “—Who can make proper boots, yes,” Dudley cut in, nodding with enthusiasm.

  There were no words to express my thoughts. I excused myself to Dudley and went into the foyer.

  In the dining parlor, I saw Richard and Mr. Knowlton shaking hands. The way Richard was gripping his hand I knew he was signaling another meeting. When they broke apart and passed me to go into the drawing room, I watched my brother. Jack had completely missed the handshake. His eyes were on Guinevere, and he was engrossed in whatever she was saying. I walked to the buffet and picked up a glass of champagne, keeping my back to them as I listened.

  “Why are you called Saint John?”

  Jack’s voice was soft, almost hesitant. “It is not something that can be told. I would have to show you.”

  “Very well, show me,” she replied.

  “Not here. Sunday, if you will allow me, I will share my secret with you.”

  I knew Jack’s ‘secret,’ and if he was willing to share it with Guinevere, that meant his feelings ran deeper than I imagined. If things kept progressing at such an a
larming rate, I knew that it would not be long before I had to have a talk with my brother, which, possibly, could end in a bout of fisticuffs. It would not be the first time.

  Chapter 15

  Jack

  By half past eight in the evening, our team was hiding in dense trees outside Stark Manor. We watched three separate carriages arrive, and Nicholas, Richard, and Mr. Knowlton enter the house. No guards were standing outside the house, so when the carriages drove to the stables, Bess, and I darted across the lawn and stopped outside the dining parlor window.

  “They should learn to bolt their windows,” Bess said as she opened the unlatched window. Once inside, I moved to the open door with Bess on my heels.

  “Absolutely not!” Hannah’s voice said, with a growl to it.

  “Be sensible. Think of the advantages,” Richard whined. He whined.

  “I know what you are about. You want me to marry Nicholas so that you can use me to get to the Holy Order. They will never admit you without someone to speak for you,” Hannah shot back with disdain lacing her words.

  Hannah works for the Holy Order.

  “If you would but give me a chance, you would see my undeniable love—” Nicholas had said but was cut off by the sound of shrill, mocking laughter.

  “The only thing you love is yourself! You want my money and my connections. Neither of which will you ever possess.”

  “We stray from the point,” a deeper woman’s voice said. “The artifacts.”

  “I want those artifacts returned,” Richard shouted. “I do not care if you have to tear apart the entire city. Find them!”

  “At least we have the black box,” Nicholas said, “and Knowlton has the book of incantations.”

  “You may be sure that I shall not let those rogues who prance around in masks find the book.” It was Charles Knowlton’s voice. My hand closed around the handle of my pistol. That book was said to explain the power of the artifacts.

  “Sværd af lyn and dolk af hemmeligheder have been taken,” Nicholas sounded mournful.

  We had both the sword of lighting and dagger of secrets, and it gave me great pleasure hearing how annoyed they were about it.

  “We know, do we not, where den kop torden is to be found?” It was Richard’s voice again.

  “Yes, it is in a strong box in Philadelphia,” Hannah’s said.

  Where? Tell us where. My body leaned closer to the door, my anticipation high.

  “You will acquire it, and you will bring it to me. I am sending Nicholas with you. I will not allow another failure, so if any stand in your way, deal with them as you deem necessary,” Richard instructed.

  “What of my meeting with the men? That is to be tomorrow at midnight,” Nicholas said.

  “Where are you meeting the men, Nicholas?” Charles Knowlton asked.

  “Elfreth’s alley. Dimitri chose the team, but as you instructed, I will go to approve them.”

  “By one you will meet our dear lady and together acquire the artifact. Now, let us adjourn.”

  Bess and I sprinted across the dining parlor and left through the window.

  Our team was stationed at different positions around the house, but Mariah was with our horses. We watched the house for a half hour, and when all three carriages drove away, we knew that there was no Levitas meeting.

  When we assembled on the road, Bess told the team what was afoot. We did not know what Nicholas’s meeting was pertaining to, but if Dimitri chose the men, it could not be good. Elfreth’s alley was in a dangerous part of town where many immigrants and sailors resided. We settled it that I would attend the meeting, and when I knew what those men were ordered to do the rest of the team would come in and subdue them. Then, there was the matter of getting to the white phantom and stopping her and Nicholas from taking the artifact. Bess assigned Mariah to follow Nicholas when he left the alley. She would discover where he was going and make haste back to tell us. I was adamant that I would be the one to go after the white phantom.

  “Under no circumstances would I let you go after her alone,” Bess retorted vehemently.

  “Raven, this is something that I must do alone.” I was staring straight ahead, but there was no mistaking my determination and Bess knew it. The white phantom and I had a score to settle.

  ***

  It was five minutes before midnight, when I walked down a small lane between two rows of bandbox houses. We were a block from the river, and the grassy lane between the houses was not wide enough for a carriage or a horse. It was more of a narrow alley than a lane, and the doors to the houses were only steps from each other with all the houses built against one another. I followed behind another man to the third house and waited as he knocked on the door.

  It was a two-story house made of brick with one window on the front exterior. A large man opened the door, and I held my breath. I was taking a gamble, and this task could be over in a moment if I was wrong. I kept my shoulders squared as I stepped up to the door. The large man held it open for me to pass into the house.

  Leo had helped me with my disguise, and I was pleased to see that I looked the same as every other man in the single room dwelling. I was wearing ordinary, dirty clothing, and a black beard was pasted around my mouth, hanging the length of my neck. Leo had me wearing body padding to make me look larger. One man nodded at me, but the rest paid me no more heed than I paid them. It was an unwritten code with ruffians that you never show fear; you meet their gaze and hold it long enough for you each to understand that the other would not hesitate to kill you if you crossed him.

  Many people did not know that such men existed in America, but with men trying to find work after the war, and with immigrants arriving every week, some men were desperate enough to take whatever job offered.

  The room smelled like sewage and death. There was a bed made on the floor and a small wood table with a single chair. Two candles lit the room; certainly a big expense. Men who lived in such houses rarely could afford candles, and most lived by the light of day, and when that light went out, they made their way to a local tavern, walked the streets, or simply went to sleep.

  A knock on the door stopped all conversation in the room. Nicholas stepped in, holding a lace handkerchief over his nose and mouth. Nicholas was curt as he promised a large sum of money if his orders were followed. Two of the men rubbed their hands together in anticipation, while another licked his cracked lips.

  Nicholas said there was to be a party held at the address he would give us. The servants’ wing of the house would be unlocked for the men to enter. Two would stand guard outside the house. Clothing would be provided, and it was required that each man had a bath before they dressed in the clothes. Mustaches were appropriate, but no matted beards. The more Nicholas said; I realized that these rogues were to attend as servants and guests. When one of the men asked who would do the deed, I listened intently.

  “Peter will carry out the deed, as he has been successful in past tasks.” The man who had opened the door puffed out his chest.

  “Should any of you be captured, remain silent. We will see to your release. Should you talk, you will meet your end.”

  Levitas had men in high places if they were able to break the ruffians out of confinement. Our allies in the constables would have to be warned. Nicholas left after explaining how payment would be received, and he handed slips of paper to Peter.

  When the door shut behind Nicholas, Peter handed out the slips of paper. Most of the men sat on the floor discussing what to do, but one small man said he had to return to his berth. He left but would not make it far.

  I unfolded the slip of paper in my hand and held it up against the only window in the room to make out the address. I sucked in a breath that did nothing to dispel the churning in my gut. The address belonged to Charles Knowlton.

  One of the men asked Peter who the victim was. I had not yet considered that it would be one of the guests that the men would harm. Alarm for my mother and sister struck me like a slap. If it wer
e a party at the Knowlton’s, my family would be invited. My mother and sister would be in harm’s way. I had to get those men in chains.

  “Ye jest worry ‘bout yer own work an’ let me worry ‘bout mine.”

  “Come on, Pete, share with yer mates.”

  Peter looked around at the anxious faces; then his chest expanded again. “He’s a man of position, but that’s all I be sayin’.”

  A man of position? That could be any number of men in society.

  One of the men pulled a pipe from his pocket and went outside to smoke. I needed to speak with my team, so I pulled my own pipe from my pocket. It was a pipe that Pierre gave me through Bess the morning he was captured. I followed the other man out. My meerschaum pipe was a piece of fine craftsmanship with a carved head of Zeus. I had never used it before, but for some unexplainable reason, I felt like bringing it with me on the mission.

  The other man leaned against the house and watched me as I lit the pipe with flint, then allowed a few moments to pass in silence and clouds of smoke.

  “Be there any taverns near, I am in need of a hearty drink,” I asked in a gruff, but conversational tone.

  The man named two within walking distance and added his recommendation to stay away from the dockside tavern. “You’ll meet only cutthroats there.”

  Motioning with my pipe, I repeated the directions, and as I did I felt my pipe stem turn. Keeping the pipe in hand, I turned the stem until I felt something click. I raised the pipe to my lips, but no smoke came forth. I held up the pipe, looking at the stem and the other man also stared at the pipe, stepping before me to watch what I was doing.

  Somehow the stem was jammed. I raised the stem to my lips, and blew. Something small flew from the front of the pipe and the man before me grunted and raised his hand to his neck, but it never made it. He staggered back and slid down the bricks of the house. Sticking out of his neck was a tiny dart.