The Arnifour Affair

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The Arnifour Affair Page 20

by Gregory Harris


  “Skulking?!” Colin stood up and smiled. “And since when is availing ourselves of a public establishment considered skulking? I thought you’d be glad for the business.”

  “Perhaps you’d prefer to cease this charade and speak to me. It seems such a waste of your time otherwise.”

  “Not a waste at all,” Colin answered. “You’d be amazed at the things one hears in a place like this.”

  Warren Vandemier scowled irritably. “Let me be clear, Mr. Pendragon, I neither need nor care about indulging your business. So unless you’d like to be escorted from the premises . . . again . . . ,” he nodded toward the entrance hall, “. . . then I would suggest you come with me. We can attend to whatever questions you have and then I shall ask you to leave for the last time. You . . . ,” his brow furrowed deeper as he threw a sideways glance at me, “. . . and Mr. Pruitt are not welcome here.”

  “Well . . .” Colin smiled, “I’m almost hurt. Come then, it would seem there’s to be no leisure for us.”

  I stood up and had to take a moment to steady myself before I could follow Colin and Mr. Vandemier to a side door that led to a plain wooden staircase that was clearly not for regular customers. “Go on. Go on up,” Mr. Vandemier said with a thick amount of impatience. “I’ll be there in a minute.” We’d gotten no more than halfway up when he bellowed out, “And I’ll thank you not to go mucking about my things!”

  “As though I would do such a thing,” Colin called back with a chuckle. “I explore . . . ,” he muttered under his breath. “I do not muck about.”

  The door below slammed shut, offering its own stinging retort.

  “I don’t trust that man,” I said as we reached the cramped office at the top. “And I doubt he’s ever said a word of truth to us.”

  “I’m sure there’s truth to be found around the edges,” he answered, and started right in poking about the enormous desktop.

  I sat down and attempted to get comfortable in one of the straight-backed chairs clearly not crafted for comfort. “He is working every side against the other, which makes me suspicious.”

  “I would hope so.” He glanced at me with a smile as he pawed through a mountain of papers on one corner of the desk. “But there’s nothing of interest here.”

  He abandoned his rummaging and set to peeking behind the small, smoke-stained paintings of scantily clad women that hung on the walls. There was a lone filing cabinet shoved in one corner and I reached out and found that the drawers willingly sprang open. As I began to paw through them, it quickly became evident that there was no need to lock what no one else could decipher. Cryptic notes on files containing no other discernment than a single letter were not going to reveal a thing.

  “Anything?” he asked as he settled down beside me.

  “I’m afraid he’s too clever for that.”

  The sound of the door below was followed by the plodding of footsteps on the stairs, and a moment later Warren Vandemier stomped in. “I hope you’re happy,” he snarled as he sat behind his desk. “You’ve cost that girl her job.”

  “That seems a bit harsh—” Colin started to say.

  “Not in the least.” He leaned forward and locked eyes with Colin. “I don’t hire addicts.”

  “Come now. . . .” He smirked. “Even you must realize you’ve got nothing but addicts working here.”

  Warren Vandemier stiffened. “Why are you here?”

  “We’ve been hearing stories about money, Mr. Vandemier. The Earl’s money to be precise. And more than a few rumors about your partnership. And most astonishingly, these stories bear little resemblance to what you told us a few days ago. I’m left quite disconcerted. I’ve decided I owe you an opportunity to reconsider some of the bollocks you’ve been trying to sell us.”

  To my amazement Mr. Vandemier broke into an easy smile, looking at us with considerable disinterest and an obvious lack of concern. Something was most assuredly amiss. “Such a generous gesture on your part, Mr. Pendragon, especially given that your services for Lady Arnifour have been dismissed.” And there it was then. That news had traveled fast. “Under the circumstances . . . ,” he stared at us with beaming self-satisfaction, “. . . I hardly think I owe you an explanation about anything.”

  “Though I am no longer being compensated,” Colin glared back at him, “you can be sure I will still solve this case. Do not underestimate my determination, Mr. Vandemier.”

  “Perish the thought.” He chuckled. “I’m sure I wish you all the best, but you’ll get nothing more from me.” He flashed his crooked yellow teeth at us. “I’ve nothing more to say to you. Ever.”

  “And that is curious. Because I can’t understand why an innocent man would be unwilling to answer a few questions?”

  “A few questions?! Is that what you have? Then tell me, why would you be twiddling about downstairs, doping that stupid girl, if all you wanted was to ask me a few questions? Now really, Mr. Pendragon.”

  “I had no idea you’d be so magnanimous with your time,” Colin answered smoothly. “So let me ask you, if the Earl was as flush with cash as I now believe him to have been, why are you insisting he never paid his share in this establishment?”

  Mr. Vandemier pursed his lips and snatched up a half-smoked cigar from an ashtray filled with them. Only after the stink of it had been suitably sucked into his lungs did he finally deem to answer the question. “I had to protect myself,” he said.

  “Whatever from?”

  “This may come as a surprise to you, Mr. Pendragon, but not all of the late Earl’s family is particularly fond of me.”

  “Pray tell. . . .”

  “His son’s a turd and that nettlesome daughter of his—”

  “Lady Kaylin?”

  “I believe he only had the one.” His sarcasm was wholly evident on his face. “She would sooner slit my throat than look at me when it was her father who bankrolled this. I wanted the lot of them to think I fronted the old stiff the money so they’d piss off and leave me alone. I knew none of them would make good on any debt they thought he owed me.” He snickered. “Now that you’re no longer taking his old widow’s wages—” But that was as far as he got before the door below abruptly slammed open and was followed by the panicked footfalls of someone rapidly assaulting the steps.

  “MR. VANDEMIER!” A terrified pasty-faced young man rose into view. “It’s Li Shen. She’s gone daft. She’s set the club on fire.”

  “What?!” He bolted to his feet and rushed around the desk, catching himself sharply at the hip. “Dammit to bloody hell!” he bellowed as the first wafts of acrid smoke began to overpower the opiate scent clinging in the air. “Those blasted idiots were supposed to get her out of here.”

  “She was acting crazy.” The young man kept flicking his eyes nervously about the room. “. . . Clawing . . . scratching . . . screaming. And then she set one of the curtains on fire, and then another, and then another—”

  “I get it!” He nearly punched the man as he shoved past him. “If this club suffers any damage you and the rest of those idiots will pay every farthing to repair it!” he hollered as he flung himself down the stairs.

  The young man stared at us slack-jawed a moment, looking like a terrified alley cat, before he suddenly gathered himself and went bolting back down the stairs. I’d done no more than turn my gaze back to Colin when Warren Vandemier and his young liege came thundering back up. Mr. Vandemier now looked a great deal more distressed than angry, and I knew it was bad.

  “The whole place is ablaze,” he blurted out.

  “The door?” Colin said as we scrambled to our feet.

  He shook his head. I looked back and noticed the first black wisps of smoke beginning to waft up the stairwell. My eyes began to sting and I felt my heartbeat surge as I realized time was quickly running out.

  Colin pushed past Mr. Vandemier and the young man, seizing the chair he’d been sitting on and heaving it out the room’s only window. “I would suggest . . . ,” he said with steely
calm, “. . . that we find some way to climb down while we’ve still got the chance.” He shoved me toward the window. “You first.”

  I didn’t need to be coaxed, though I am not especially enamored of heights. I crawled out onto the window’s thin ledge and tried to keep myself focused to allay my fears. All I knew was that I would be leaping down onto unforgiving cobblestones and a steadily increasing band of sooty, gagging people who even now were stumbling from the club’s door. There had to be some way I could lower myself at least partially, and that’s when I spotted the shutters hanging just below me.

  I shifted my weight and jockeyed around so I was facing the inside of the building and then with both hands clutching the windowsill I slowly lowered myself, flailing my legs until I felt the top of the shutters just below. Colin scrambled out the window as soon as I’d cleared the ledge and quickly worked himself around as I had. He started to lower himself and I was able to reach his feet to help him gain purchase. He let go of the ledge just as Warren Vandemier scuttled onto it, and then we both knelt down and gripped the top of the shutters.

  “Drop!” I yelled. And without another thought I did just that, careening down onto the cobbled street and landing heavily on my backside. It was not as far a drop as I’d thought, but it was enough to flush the stale air from my lungs.

  “You all right?” Colin dropped close to me and squeezed my arm.

  “I’m fine,” I stammered, pushing myself up. “You?”

  “Perfect.”

  Warren Vandemier slammed down on my other side with a cry and a crack that I knew meant he’d broken something. I stretched, grateful that everything felt fine, then looked back up to see if I was in the way of the young man who’d been with us . . . but he wasn’t there. All I could see was the lapping of flames against the windowsill that only a minute before had been my perch.

  “Colin . . .” I stared around at the throng of stilted, somnambulistic people stumbling around the alleyway.

  “I know . . . ,” he said, grabbing my arm and pulling me away. “We have to go. There’s nothing we can do.”

  The distant sound of clanging bells and windup horns that reached my ears mixed eerily with the groans and sobs of the disoriented crowd, and I knew he was right. And that boy . . . that thin, sallow boy . . . never came out.

  CHAPTER 29

  We stumbled two or three blocks before it became apparent that we were being followed. The horse-drawn fire coaches had already careened past, clanging and screeching their warnings, and in the vacuum they left behind it was clear that ours were not the only set of footfalls on the cobbles. Yet each time one of us would glance back, the advancing footsteps halted in tandem, revealing no one behind us. I was finding it increasingly unnerving, though Colin didn’t seem the least concerned. I knew pickpockets didn’t work uncrowded alleyways and thugs never worked alone, but someone was still matching us step for step and that was rarely a good thing.

  We continued our measured pace for a while longer before Colin asked, “What was the name of the woman who sat with us at the club tonight? The one who started the fires?”

  “Li Shen.”

  “Well then, I believe Li Shen is following us,” he announced with certainty. “And rather badly at that.”

  “Li Shen? You think it’s her?” I started to turn to see if I might yet catch a glimpse, but Colin seized my arm and kept me from doing so.

  “Don’t look. Just keep moving. We’ll get her to come to us.”

  I knew what he was up to, so as soon as we turned the corner I ducked in the notched alcove of a darkened storefront and yanked him in after me. “Don’t make a sound,” I cautioned him with a chuckle as he maneuvered around in the tight space.

  Almost at once someone came scurrying out of the alleyway and a second later the silhouette of Li Shen came into view as she paused, no more than a few feet away, and scanned the street.

  “Lose someone?” Colin cooed as he stepped out. She released a stifled scream and looked as if she was about to run when she abruptly collapsed against Colin’s chest and began wailing like a child. “There, there . . . ,” he said stiffly, his eyes finding mine to reveal his discomfort.

  I patted Li Shen’s back and allowed him to pass her to me. She sobbed until I thought she must surely need to stop for air. I knew it to be an effect of the drug and as I held her I was suddenly overcome by the realization that at least one person had lost his life tonight as a result of her drug-addled rampage. It seemed unconscionable to offer her succor when she’d shown so little care herself just a short time ago. And yet she had not been in her right mind then, and that was because of us.

  “We mustn’t tarry,” Colin warned. “Mr. Vandemier will be crying for his pound of flesh as will the authorities once they find out what happened.”

  She pulled away from me and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her dress. “I no trouble you,” she said in a thin voice. “I fine. You go.”

  “We’ll not leave you here. You’ll come with us,” he said.

  She shook her head. “I no have business with you. You go. Leave Li Shen.”

  “No.” He took her arm and began to get us all moving. “You will come with us if I have to carry you all the way to

  Kensington, which I am not in the mood to do. I’ll not hear another word on it.” He slid his gaze to me.

  “Absolutely.” I pasted on what I hoped was a welcoming smile even though I did not relish having her in our flat. “Not another word.”

  “Bless you.” She bowed repeatedly. “You most kind. A thousand blessings on you both.”

  “Fine. Lovely. But we really must get moving . . . ,” Colin prodded again as he tried to get her to pick up the pace. “It won’t do us much good if we’re found wandering about the area by the authorities.”

  I held Li Shen’s arm, who only now seemed to be comprehending what she had done. Her frail body was shaking as though she were walking barefoot across a patch of ice and I knew it was only a matter of time before the drug fully receded to leave her alone with the consequences. When we reached Fleet Street Colin gestured for us to stay out of sight while he hailed a cab, and only after he’d done so did the two of us dart from the shadows and leap inside.

  None of us spoke the entire way back, and I could smell the burnt sulphur and thick pungent musk of opium on all of us. We would need to bathe with herbs and oils to remove these residues from our skin and hair, and I could only imagine what Mrs. Behmoth was going to say.

  “ ’Ere now . . . ,” she did not disappoint, “ya couldn’t give me some notice that you were bringin’ someone ’ome?” Her hair was in rollers under her knit cap and she was wearing a long flannel robe and well-worn slippers that had long ago molded themselves to her feet. “Come on then. . . .” She held the door open and watched curiously as Li Shen drifted across the threshold. As she passed by Mrs. Behmoth her nose curled up and I could tell she knew where we’d been. “You better not smell like ’er.” She pinched my arm as I tried to brush past her.

  “It’s all right,” Colin exhaled wearily. “I chaperoned. We haven’t done anything we need regret.”

  Li Shen started and turned to Colin, and immediately dissolved into tears again. She sagged back into me and I held her a moment before hastening her upstairs and away from Mrs. Behmoth’s questioning glare.

  “I’d say ya’d best speak fer yerself,” I heard her mutter to Colin as he started up after us.

  I settled Li Shen onto the settee and poked the fire back to life while Colin pressed a brandy on her. She sipped at the drink and eventually exchanged her sobbing for a series of protracted sighs and an occasional hiccup. It was easy to see by the heaviness of her eyelids that the opium was loosening its grip on her, and I knew that before much longer the truth of what had happened—of what she had done—would finally poke into her conscience and demand its due.

  “You must get some rest,” I said to her.

  “Yes.” Colin seated himself across from her, his o
wn face drawn. “We’ll talk tomorrow. We’ll decide what needs to be done then.”

  “No rest for Li Shen,” she whispered. “No rest.”

  “Leave it be,” I tried to soothe her. “There will be time enough to think on it all tomorrow.”

  “But I start fire. I want fire. I try to destroy man who want to destroy me, like owner’s woman. She come to club and want to destroy everything too. Wave lamp around. But she not really do it, only Li Shen did it.”

  “What woman?” Colin’s brow knit.

  She shook her head and took another sip of brandy, staring at the amber liquid as though hoping to find some solace within its honeyed glow.

  “How long ago was this?” he persisted.

  She gave a slight shrug.

  “Two weeks? Six weeks? Six months? Surely you can remember something?”

  Mrs. Behmoth shuffled into the room startling all three of us. “I made up the guest room for the young lady. I ’ope you won’t be keepin’ her up ’alf the night. She looks as if she’s ’ad enough. It ain’t right ta keep at ’er—”

  “Thank you!” he snapped, sending a frosty glare in her direction. “We appreciate your thoughtfulness. Please don’t trouble yourself any further. We’ll see that our guest gets down to her room.”

  Mrs. Behmoth folded her arms across her chest and stared right back at him. “Yer a pip,” she said flatly. “Ya jest see that she does.” And with that she turned and lumbered back down the stairs.

  “Forgive the intrusion.” He flicked his eyes back to Li Shen. “How many times did you see the woman at the club?”

  “That woman?” Li Shen pointed to our empty doorway.

  “No, no. The owner’s woman. The one who was threatening to burn the club down.”

  “Couple time. She very mad. Shouting . . . scaring client. Say she burn everything down. Bad for business.”

  “What did she look like?”

  “Young. Small like Li Shen.”

  Colin glanced at me. “That rules out Lady Arnifour and Abigail Roynton, which leaves us with Elsbeth. But why would she threaten to burn down the club?” He looked back at Li Shen. “Was the Earl there when it happened?”

 

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