“My employer tips his fine hat to you.”
Hatchet-face? He wasn’t a good suspect given the timing, but if that was the job he’d been hired for, his employer could have hired a new killer after he was arrested. The scarred murderer might know something.
She could send Em to talk to Heldi, but without knowing where the detective’s loyalties lay, that could make the situation worse. Maybe she should send her after the lead she didn’t dare follow.
“There was a killer I had a run in with. He said he was hired to kill a wealthy family. I don’t know where he is now, though.”
“The bludger you helped escape from JAHF?” Em gave her a shrewd look, her steely eyes narrowing with skepticism. “Yes, I know about that. If you take me to Garrett, I’ll let you go. No Lits this time. You have my word.”
Maeko twisted enough to glower at her despite the extra pain it caused. “That lie won’t work twice. I’m not daft. Besides, I’m telling the truth.”
Em glared ahead then smirked wickedly. Her hand tightened again and Maeko winced, her head throbbing with the pressure. They were getting close to the waiting coach.
“I’m not usually one for roughing up young women, but I’m starting to think I might enjoy it in your case.”
Maeko twisted, trying to relieve some of the pressure of the detective’s grip. As she did so, she spotted Benny sneaking up behind and to the other side of the detective. He met Maeko’s eyes and reached into the pocket of Em’s long coat, his grab purposefully clumsy. Em twisted around, grabbing for his wrist with her free hand. Maeko twisted the other way, wrenching free of the detective’s grip, and ran.
She didn’t look back to see the consequences of the rescue attempt. You never looked back. Every street rat she ever met told her that. She could only hope Benny had the sense to get out of there. Chaff would do his best to make sure the boy escaped. He always tried to watch out for his own.
“Grab her!”
Reuben stepped out from alongside the coach, a lanky shadow shifting into her path in the growing dark. He was tall. She could work with that. She kept running. When his arms reached for her, she dove beneath them, curling into a somersault. She landed on her left shoulder blade. The resulting burst of pain was a small price to pay for freedom. She rolled to her feet, up and running again before Rueben had recovered from his failed effort. Sprinting past the coach, she glanced over in time to catch the dumbstruck expression on Amos’s face as he looked up from the cigar he was about to light. He tossed aside the struck lucifer and gave chase, but she was in her element. She ducked down a side street, weaving a complex path through the neighborhood until the sounds of pursuit faded.
When she stopped, she slumped back against the chill brick wall of a building and took a few minutes to catch her breath. The gnawing ache in her stomach brought to mind the sandwich she’d dropped in the street. She could still smell the ham and bread on her fingers. Her mouth watered.
Bleeding detective.
The Lits must have told Em that they spotted her and Ash at Cheapside earlier. That made sense, enough so that she almost felt daft for not expecting her there. It was difficult enough keeping a watch out for officers without having to worry about that woman, too.
The few pedestrians along the poorly lit street didn’t pay her any mind and a light drizzle started to fall again, adding to the insidious gloom that seeped into her. Light traffic included a trio of young chaps over their fill on liquor who could barely stagger a straight line while they taunted one another. They made enough noise for a group three times the size. Another time, she might have stalked them, seeking the prime moment to take advantage of their condition and empty their pockets, but Ash’s disapproving scowl came to mind and she dismissed them. She had more important things to do.
She rubbed at the stinging marks in her neck from Em’s fingers and almost sank down on the wet pavement to indulge in a refreshing cry. It wouldn’t help anything, though it might ease the buildup of misery and frustration. Still, if she wasted time on that, the chances of Em finding Garrett and her mother increased. She didn’t want to bring that kind of trouble down on Tomoe no matter how she felt about their relationship. Besides, what would that mean for all the pirates to whom her mother provided medical services?
Her head rested back against the wall, the drizzle mixing with a few warm tears that trickled down her cheeks.
Mum.
All those years, believing her mother didn’t want or love her. Why else would Tomoe consider turning her over to an orphanage instead of finding some way to keep her? It didn’t occur to her until they sat talking on the little porch that it might have been a devastating decision for her mother to make. Now that she better understood, she wasn’t sure whether to try mending the broken relationship or let it stay dead. Right now, they had to interact for Garrett’s sake. After this was over...
“Clean your cogs.”
She smiled at Chaff’s voice in her head. Keeping me on task even when you’re not here?
The voice was right though, she needed to clear her head and focus on her immediate goal. Heaving a deep sigh, she shoved away from the wall and began to weave her way through back streets toward the pub where it all started. Her flight from the detective had taken her several blocks in the wrong direction, mostly because she didn’t want Em getting any idea where she might be going. Hopefully, Heldie would be there. The more she thought about the woman’s behavior the other night, the more certain she was that Heldie knew something. She could be the key to finding Lucian Folesworth and fixing this bollocks.
She started working through scenarios in her head the way she did whenever she and Chaff worked the streets together, so that she would have options in mind for many of the turns a situation could take. He claimed to admire her ability to puzzle things through ahead of time and that skill might be of considerable use when she confronted Heldie. After their last brief encounter, Maeko had a hunch that if she played upon Heldie’s guilt over turning her into the Lits and her apparent friendship with Ash’s father, the woman might at least feel obliged to listen.
A glance through the front windows found a boisterous crowd in the pub. Another pirate band played, their exotic sound thrumming through the building. Two unfamiliar women bustled about serving tables. Heldie must be in the kitchen if she were there at all.
Maeko slunk around into the back alley. A new ashbin stood there, the mess she’d made now only a memory etched in her mind, the start of an unexpected journey. The door was locked. They’d wised up, but it wasn’t about to stop her. She pulled Chaff’s fancy lock picks out of a trouser pocket, grinning at the thought of his expression when he realized they were missing. Nothing made one feel more accomplished then picking a thief’s pocket. He’d done it to her often enough.
She brushed away a few flakes of peeling paint and put one ear to the edge of the door, listening for the sounds of anyone nearby. Satisfied that she wouldn’t be disturbed, she went to work on the lock. Moments later, it clicked open. She turned the knob, pushing the door in a few inches to peek into the dark hall beyond. Empty. She slipped through and started to slink down the hall.
She’d barely taken four steps when the door next to her opened. She spun to see Heldie standing in the doorway of a dark little room. A single flickering candle illuminated the cramped space. Dark shadows danced in the corners, given texture by more peeling paint. A small camp bed with a few ratty blankets heaped in the center of the dingy mattress stood pushed up against the back wall.
The woman stared at her with a look of profound dismay. Maeko stepped toward her, discouraging her from leaving the room, and Heldie took a quick step back.
“Ye again.” Her voice had a panicky sharpness to it. “I thought that detective had ye.”
“She let me go.” It was best to get the small lies going right away. That made the bigger ones easier. “I need to talk to you.”
Heldie leaned out to peer down the hall and Maeko got a good, nause
ating whiff of her cloying perfume. The bright paint around her eyes looked smeared as if she’d been crying.
Before she got the idea of calling for someone, Maeko took another step forward. “You turned me in to the Lits, didn’t you?”
Heldie frowned, her eyes and painted cheeks drooping with the expression, giving her the dumpy look of an old toad, only with heavy makeup and perhaps a shade less green. She took another step back and moved to one side, allowing Maeko enough room to enter.
The flickering candle sat on a petite, scuffed vanity. A spider web of cracks radiated out from a dimple in the center of the mirror, reproducing the light in each section until there appeared to be a whole array of candles on the vanities surface. The flame flickered when Heldie shut the door, sending shadows lurching across the walls. She stepped around Maeko and stopped, staring down at the little camp bed. When she turned around, she was wringing her hands. Maeko forced her gaze up from the mesmerizing motion to meet the woman’s eyes. Heldie lowered her gaze to stare at her twining hands.
“I narked on ye all right. I ain’t apologizin’ neither. The streets ain’t no place for a twist.”
“Isn’t that my business?” Maeko asked, surprised that the question came out calm and free of accusation.
Heldie exhaled and shuffled around Maeko to pull a half-burned candle out of one drawer of the vanity. She lit it off the first with shaking hands. It took two tries to get it set properly in a bent wall sconce, then she walked back to plop down on the bed and proceeded to twist a finger in her frazzled locks. The added light enhanced dark circles under her eyes and the lines of worry creased into her brow. She looked like a woman who had seen many rough days. Judging from her figure, she wasn’t half as old as she looked. What kind of life could age a woman so fast? Perhaps she had firsthand experience with being a girl on the streets.
“It doesn’t matter. I didn’t come about that.” The woman met her eyes, then looked away again. “I’m looking for someone, a gentleman by the name of Lucian Folesworth.”
At the mere mention of his name, Heldie’s finger stopped twirling for a few telling seconds and she schooled her expression, exaggerating disinterest.
“Why would I know anythin’ ’bout that?”
“You can’t lie to a liar,” Maeko countered, hoping her conviction might shake truth out of the woman. “I know you’ve spoken with him.” Another lie, but so long as Heldie believed her, it didn’t matter.
Heldie twisted her hair so hard now that Maeko feared she might start pulling it out, but she pressed her lips together in a crimson line and said nothing.
“This is very important. Mr. Folesworth is in danger. Captain Garrett’s been injured and his family is in danger too. If I don’t find Mr. Folesworth all their lives could be destroyed.”
Heldie’s lower lip trembled and tears welled in her eyes. “Oh!” She slapped her hands down in her lap. “Barman’s all upset about my turning you in and that detective keeps pokin’ around. Now my brother and his family are in trouble. Is he going to be all right?”
Maeko stared, dumfounded. Most of Heldie’s abhorrent speech patterns vanished. The woman was hiding more than she’d guessed. “Garrett’s your brother?”
“Half-brother. He all but raised me when our mum died and my dad turned to the opium dens.”
“His injury is being cared for,” Maeko replied, finding her voice and fighting to hold in the rising excitement of success she could almost taste. “But someone needs to intervene on their behalf or this will destroy him and his family. Please Heldie, help me so I can help them.”
Heldie swallowed, her expression rife with skepticism. “What can you do?”
“A lot of things. I can avoid the Lits. I know where Garrett is. I know who’s after Mr. Folesworth.” A slight exaggeration. “Mr. Folesworth is the only one who can put Garrett’s family back together.”
She tugged out a kerchief tucked in her bosom and wiped her eyes. “If it’ll help them, I’ll tell you what I can.”
This time, Maeko couldn’t hold back a victorious smile. “It most certainly will.”
Heldie gestured for her to sit in a rickety chair tucked under the vanity. Maeko was almost too eager to sit still, but she didn’t dare offend the woman now by refusing her offer. Sitting in the chair, which creaked even under her slight weight, she gave her full attention to the other woman and even tried for an encouraging smile, though it felt awkward. Whatever it took to guide the conversation where it needed to go.
Heldie cleared her throat. “It weren’t but a few days before you showed up. A toff in some fine threads came in. A real swell. You ken the type, creases in all the right places, shiny shoes pokin’ out, a tie, and kerchief.” She used her hands to point at those remembered creases and shiny shoes on herself, finishing with a tiny tugging motion near her chest where the kerchief would be hanging out of a suit pocket. “He had a briefcase under one arm and a little crate with holes in both ends.” Maeko nodded. That would have been Macak. The poor cat had to have gotten here somehow. “He was polite and of a better class than usually comes in here. A bit gloomy though, so I tried to be extra nice to him. Before he left, he asked if I’d do him a kindness.”
Heldie eyed Maeko uneasily. Realizing that she had slid to the edge of the chair and was leaning far forward in her eagerness, Maeko forced herself to ease back into the seat again.
After several seconds spent picking at the hem of her cinched up skirt, Heldie continued. “He told me his brother’d be comin’ by within a fortnight. Said I’d recognize him easy because they’re twins and that I should tell him where to find him. He made me promise not to tell another soul. He tipped real nice too.”
She paused and Maeko almost prompted her for his location when she started speaking again. “When that detective came askin’ around, I knew this was something serious. I got a bit nervous, but I didn’t’ tell her anythin’.”
Maeko nodded. “This is very serious. He needs to know what’s going on, that other people are in danger because of this. You have to help me, Heldie. You have to tell me where to find him. It’s the only way I can help him and keep Garrett’s family from falling apart.” Or at least dump the bollocks in someone else’s hands.
The woman stared down at her lap, her mouth again set in a tight line.
“This is life or death, Heldie.” She pulled out her best pleading look. When all else fails…
Heldie clenched her hands in her skirt. She was smarter than she let on and she apparently had her own secrets to keep, but she was softhearted and worried about her half-brother. Not the person Maeko would have chosen to confide in.
“All right. I’ll tell you, but you have to promise you won’t tell no one else.”
Was there a special hell for liars? If so, it was already too late. She’d secured herself a room there a long time ago, unless there was a special hell for pickpockets too, in which case she’d have conflicting reservations. “I promise.”
Chapter Thirteen
Still basking in the uneasy glow of this particular victory, Maeko slipped out the back door of the bar. She shut it behind her and turned around—
A man stood to one side, leaning against the wall between her and the open end of the alley, one foot crossed casually over the other. He struck a lucifer to light his cigarette, the flicker of flame illuminating his features. A flurry of images came together in her head from the Airship Tower, at JAHF, and in Cheapside earlier that day. Her heart started to race. Mr. Jacard. How had he found her?
“Maeko. It is Maeko, isn’t it?” He tipped his hat with the hand holding the cigarette. “I’m Joel Jacard.” He spoke in an easy, conversational tone as he pushed away from the wall with a foot and turned toward her, his movements unhurried. He shook out the match and flicked it aside. His free hand sank into his coat pocket. “I understand you have some information I need. I can pay a tidy sum for it. What do you say? Can we help each other?”
She longed to trust him, to tell
him everything and let him deal with it, but, as best she could figure, he had the most to gain from Lucien Folesworth’s disappearance. It didn’t help that Hatchet-face’s words popped into her head when he tipped his hat to her. Chaff said she had good instincts. This wasn’t a good time to start doubting them.
“I don’t want your tin.” She took a step back and glanced to the side, taking quick measure of the distance between him and the opposite wall of the alley.
“And I was going to play nice,” he said with unconvincing regret.
His hand moved to a different pocket and drew something out, something that glinted in the sallow light from a gas-lamp at the end of the alley. The way he held it made her mouth go dry and the click as he cocked back the hammer validated her fear. She continued backing up, wanting nothing more than to stay away from the ready weapon. He moseyed after her, looking down at the gun as he turned it in his hand, as if admiring the finish.
“You see, a dear friend of mine has gone missing and his family…” his gaze jumped up, fixing her with a piercing look, “…is dead. Detective Emeraude, she says you know who did it and where they are. Says you’re hiding them.” He smirked and ran his index finger over the trigger. “She told me to stay out of it, but she can’t seem to keep a hold on you, can she? Neither can the Lits.”
She backed into the wall and cast about for somewhere to go from there. The ashbin filled in the other side of the alley, cold steel narrowing her options. Her palms felt hot and sweaty compared to the cold damp of the rough wall against her back. Terror sent a flush of blood to her face.
“Perhaps you’re that clever, but I think they simply haven’t been persuasive enough.” He continued to advance, flicking away the ash from his cigarette, the gun now pointed at the ground. “I’ve had enough of the cat and mouse game. You’re going to tell me where they are?”
She shook her head.
He raised the gun, aiming at her right shoulder. She stepped to the left and he shifted his aim down to her right hand. She jerked it out of the line of fire and he moved it in so the barrel pointed at her abdomen. Her stomach turned and she hugged her arms around her middle as she moved away again, pressing into the corner. He kept the gun aimed just to her right, pinning her in the corner as effectively as if he had built a fence around her. With cruel nonchalance, he raised the gun and walked forward until the barrel touched the brick next to her ear. A whimper escaped her. She flinched away from it, her breath coming in frantic little pants.
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