“I was just thinking, you know, if I got stuck there. I’d need to survive until I was rescued. What d’you think? Six hundred dollars?”
Harper shrugged. “You could buy a pretty good meal in 1875 for a dollar, and you could stay in a very nice hotel for around two dollars a night. And like I explained to you the last time you were here, if you get stuck in time, just leave a, Harper, come get me, ad in the New York Post.”
“The money is just in case you take your time in coming to get me. I’ll need to stay in a proper hotel and proper meals,” Kat suggested, climbing into a navy blue, floor-length dress.
Dore’s eyebrows shot up. “Wow, Kat, that looks pretty good on you.”
She looked at herself in a large mirror. “It does, doesn’t it? All I need are the shoes to match.”
“Shoes are in the cabinets behind you, and don’t forget a hat. A proper lady would never be seen in public without a proper hat.” Harper told her.
Finding a pair of lace-up ankle boots and a fancy hat with a bow and a feather, she tried them on. “Hey, these are terrific, and they’re exactly my size.”
Harper peered at her, then at Dore. It was fairly obvious what Kat was planning, so he must have guessed, but he didn’t pass comment. Perhaps Harper was once in Kat’s situation. He was, after all, a Gypsy.
“How about five hundred,” he said, with a fatherly smile. “It’ll keep you on your toes.”
“That’s very generous of you, Mr. Harper. I promise to bring back what I don’t spend.” She gave him one of her naughty looks. “Of course, I could always rob a bank.”
He laughed. “After your gunfight with the demons, I’m sure you could.”
CHAPTER TWO
W ell, that was fun,” Kat said, as the helicopter banked around above Cape Cod Bay and headed south. “If we end up being stuck in Hell, I’d quite like to become a Gypsy.”
Dore grunted. “I believe it would suit you… Are you sure you want me to come with you? Who’s going to look after Ellie?”
“Jock, you’re incorrigible. She’s a couple of hundred years old… I’m sure she can take care of herself. What are you suggesting, that you stay behind and soothe her stunningly beautiful brow?”
“Believe me; I wouldn’t mind.”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t. What happened to your addiction?”
He snorted a laugh. “You mean my Kat Wolfram addiction? Well, that’s my problem, isn’t it? I need to keep an eye on you. What would I do if you didn’t come back?”
“I know exactly what you’d do. You’d get a rescue artifact from Harper and come looking for me. If you couldn’t find me, you’d disappear into the past with Giselle.”
Dore shook his head. “Will you be serious? I’m quite worried about tomorrow. You told Pernass you were just going to have a look around, but that’s not really what you intend to do, is it?”
“What makes you say that?”
“Quite a number of things. You’re taking me with you, which you don’t really need to do, you’re taking $500, which was a hell of a lot of money in 1875, and you half-inched Harper’s photograph of Grantham.”
“You saw that?”
“I’m not blind. You pretended to put it back in the album, then folded it into your pocket.”
She sighed. Kat had forgotten how sharp Dore could be. Knowing that Harper wouldn’t miss the photograph, she had pinched it. “Bloody hell, Jock, you are observant. If Grantham’s got spies, he might already know about us. I want to get ahead of the game. There may not be time to get permission from Hades.”
“I thought you were going to call Persephone.”
“I am, but not yet. First, I want to be sure of my facts.”
Dore nodded, and for a while, they stopped talking, allowing Kat to watch the passing scenery. They were over the city again, and she was intrigued by Hell’s version of New York City, the traffic on the East River, Ellis Island, the afternoon sun glinting on the glass skyscrapers. They were so tall; the old Chrysler Building was dwarfed in comparison.
She watched as they descended towards the helipad in Bryant Park. She could see a scattering of people standing by the perimeter, and she wondered what they were doing there. The helipad was built exclusively for the Elites and was deserted when they took off. They studied the figures as the helicopter slowly descended and finally settled on the tarmac. There weren’t quite as many as she’d thought, but they were enough to make her vigilant, especially as three of them were demons. Slightly paranoid because she was now carrying an artifact, a small valise with the clothes and money that Harper had given her, she watched the demons as they approached. They were definitely watching her. If they were police, they were in plain clothes, which meant they were detectives. Deciding to ignore them, she thanked the pilot and headed for 42nd Street. It wasn’t far to the Chrysler Building; they may as well walk.
But when they reached reception on the 16th floor, she knew something was going on. Seated on a couch in the main reception area was a thickset, elderly demon. But he was no ordinary demon. Wearing glasses and reading a leather-bound book, he looked more like an aging professor, if such a thing was possible in Demonland. There was a tired look about him, as if he’d been awake all night, or had been lecturing students. He closed his book and stood when he saw her.
“Agent Wolfram?” he inquired, in a gravelly voice.
“Yes,” Kat replied, wondering who he could be.
“My name’s Inspector Cabot. May I have a word with you, please?”
She glanced at Dore, but he was wearing his usual frown. There was no way to ascertain what he was really thinking. Demons weren’t allowed at Elite headquarters unless they’d been invited, so she could only assume that Pernass knew Cabot was here.
Handing Dore her valise, she turned to face Cabot. “Certainly. How can I help you?”
The inspector gestured for her to take a seat, then sat down on the couch again. “It’s nothing to worry about, but it’s a rather sensitive issue.”
Easing herself down, she glanced at Dore again, but he clearly wanted to remain standing. He didn’t like demons very much. “Well, I’m… all ears. What’s this about?”
The elderly demon attempted a smile. “I believe you know a Federal Officer called Anton Rostock, or Billy the Kid, as the locals call him.”
She glimpsed a brief flashback of Rostock standing in the street at West Fork, his pointy fangs bared, the evening sky glinting on his horns. “Billy the Butt-Head. Tall ugly guy with bad breath, yeah, I know him. I believe he’s having his head rebuilt.”
Cabot cleared his reptilian throat. “Yes, he is.” He drew a breath. “Unfortunately, not for long. I know all about Rostock and the gunfight… well done, by the way.”
Kat smiled. “My first western gunfight. It was a blast.”
“The thing is, we may have a problem, or rather, you might. I put in a request to have Rostock terminated, but it was denied.”
“It was denied?” she exclaimed. “By who?”
Cabot made a toothy wince. “By Hades, himself, would you believe? His reasoning makes a lot of sense, but it puts you in danger. Hades knows about the Grantham situation, and he knows about McInnes, but there are other people involved, and he wants to draw them out. If Rostock is terminated, Grantham may change his tactics, or worse, disappear into the future.”
She stared at the elderly inspector. It was almost unheard of for Hades to talk to demons, which meant that Cabot was no ordinary demon. “So, how can I help?”
“You may be faced with a dilemma. If Rostock attacks you again, and he’s quite likely to, we don’t want you to kill him, but we also don’t want you to die. It’s a problem.”
“But he can only kill me with a special gun.”
“Grantham is making his own artifacts, which is quite incredible. If he can do that, maybe he can make a terminating gun and ship it back to Rostock.”
“But Rostock’s a drunk and a fool; wouldn’t be wiser to send someon
e I don’t know after me?”
Cabot shook his grisly head. “No doubt Grantham will send someone, but more than likely, several someones along with Rostock. Rostock isn’t quite what he appears to be. He drank like an idiot at West Fork, and we allowed him to because it was safer than the alternative. Rostock is one sharp cookie. He’s not just fast with a gun… when he’s sober, he’s very clever and quite unpleasant, which is why he was sent to the mines of course. We pretty much retired him from the police force.”
“From what little I know of him, he’s a dimwitted dipshit who’s slow as molasses in a gunfight. But a bullet in the back can come at any time. Maybe I should avoid going back to the mines.”
Cabot adjusted his glasses and shook his head again. “You may not be able to. Of course, we don’t know how your investigation will develop after you go looking for Grantham, but the ranch at Quiggly Gulch is an important portal. It’s been in existence for five hundred years. We could shut it down, but at the moment, it’s more important that we find Grantham.”
“So what do you want me to do?”
“Carry on as planned. We just want you to be aware of the dangers.” Extracting a card from a pocket in his tunic, Cabot handed it to her. “That’s my cell phone number if ever you need my help. I keep it on my person at all times.”
“You have a portable phone? Cool! Where can I get one of those?”
Cabot laughed a throaty laugh. “Ask the Elite Police Commissioner; he’s authorized to issue them. But he also has to give Hades a record of each authorization and the reason he felt the person needed one.”
“Who else has them?”
Cabot shrugged. “I don’t know, although I’m sure the Gypsies have them. But a cell phone won’t help you if you’re traveling into the past. There are no cell phone transmission towers in the 1800s.” Glancing at Dore, he stood. “It was nice to meet you. No doubt, we’ll be bumping into each other.”
Kat watched him as he made his way slowly over to the elevators. Cabot was obviously quite old. He walked with a limp, and when he reached the elevators, he had to hunch over and adjust his glasses to see the call button.
“Well, that was an experience,” Dore said, handing her the valise. “He must be the oldest person I’ve seen in Hell.”
“Yeah, me too. I wonder which precinct Cabot works for.” Making her way over to the reception desk, she was about to ask the receptionist to tell Pernass they were here when he stepped out of one of the elevators.
“Katelyn,” he called, walking over to her, “you’re just in time. I have a meeting in five minutes.”
She followed Pernass into his office. “That’s fine. This is just a courtesy call. We’ve been to Gypsy Headquarters, and I’ve got everything I need, and I just now had a meeting with Inspector Cabot. I assume you know him.”
“Yes, I do. Interesting character. I was introduced to Cabot when they made me commissioner. He’s the only demon I’ve ever met worth talking to. What did he want?”
“He wanted to warn me that Rostock might come after me.”
Throwing his coat on a chair, he peered out of the window. “Yes, it’s a problem. You might want to consider staying away from the mines.”
“That would be great, but according to Cabot, I might not be able to, and to make matters worse, I’m not allowed to kill Rostock.”
“You’re not?”
“Hades has disallowed it for the time being. Apparently, finding Grantham is more important.”
“I can’t say I agree with him, but there you go. We’re living in unusual circumstances.”
Kat shrugged. “Well, at least we’re still breathing.”
“So how do you want to do this?” Dore asked as they walked back to the apartment.
“We program the artifact to 1875 and see what happens.”
“That’s not what I meant. Harper said the operating radius of the artifact is quite small. Wouldn’t it be better if I program the artifact, and you hold on to me? I’m bigger than you.”
She turned to look at him. Dore was at least six foot three and must have weighed two hundred thirty pounds. If he operated the artifact, she could cling to him. “Sure. I don’t mind if you hold the artifact. Whatever works. I’m more concerned about when we do it. Time seems to be of the essence.”
“I thought we were going tomorrow morning.”
“We were, but I’m beginning to think we should go this afternoon. We’ve got at least two hours of daylight left. I’m worried about Harper saying the wrong thing to the wrong person. When we arrive in 1875, we’re not just going to walk around and gawk at everything. I want to investigate places like Soho and lower Manhattan.”
“But… what about Ellie?”
“What about her? She’s not coming with us.”
“I wouldn’t mind having her around when we leave. Not just because I like having her here, but because I want her to be totally on top of what we’re doing?”
She laughed. “Don’t worry; she’ll be there. She’s at the apartment right now. You’re an old softy, Jock.”
“I’m being practical. Do you know how far Lower Manhattan is from Central Park? We should program the artifact for Battery Park. It’s much nearer.”
“I thought you didn’t know New York City.”
“I’m learning.”
“Yeah? Well, for your information, some of the most sought-after apartments are right by Central Park. Lower Manhattan a second option, and we don’t have to walk. We can take a cab.”
“You mean a horse-drawn cab. Soho’s about four or five miles from Central Park. That’s maybe a forty-minute ride.”
Kat threw up her hands and rolled her eyes. There were times when Jock could be exasperating. “So? This is an investigation, Jock. I’d also like to see what New York City looked like in 1875.”
But Dore was still grumbling as they rode the elevator up to the 50th floor. He doubted his suit would look out-of-place in 1875, men’s fashions in America hardly changed from the early 1800s, but Kat would look like a wealthy lady in her long dress. He finally stopped going on about it when they walked into the apartment, and he saw Giselle. She was holding up a tweed shooting jacket and a pair of English riding boots.
“I found these in Bloomingdale’s. I thought you might like them for your trip.”
Despite his unshaven jaw, Dore’s face colored with unconcealed pleasure. “You bought them for me? Ellie, I’m… honored. I love the jacket.”
Putting on the jacket, he tried the boots on for size. They were a little tight, but he wouldn’t have dreamt of complaining.
“Wow!” Kat exclaimed. “You look amazing, Jock. American gentry. I might have to go back and choose a better dress.”
“Are you really going this afternoon?” Giselle asked. “I’m not sure if I’m mentally prepared for this.”
“I know, Ellie. I’m sorry, but I’m worried about Grantham’s spies. We’ve just been talking to Inspector Cabot, and even he knew about the shootout at West Fork.”
“Yeah, well, he would. Cabot knows everything. He’s the most knowledgeable demon in Hell. He’s considered the Pinkerton of the New York City Police.”
Dore beamed, “Now that’s a proper Scotsman. If this lizard is like Allan Pinkerton, he could be the only demon in Hell worth trusting.”
Giselle peered at Kat. “Are you really taking $500?”
Kat stared at her. Giselle wasn’t prone to melodramatics. She must have had a reason to worry about the amount of money they were taking. “Why? Is that a problem?”
“Not in itself, but you’re obviously preparing for something to go wrong, which worries me.”
“The money’s just in case, Ellie. We’re not planning to stay for more than a day, but I’ve never used an artifact before, and I’ve never gone back in time. I just want to be prepared.” She glanced at Dore, who was admiring his new jacket and boots.
“So… when are you going, exactly?” Giselle persisted.
Kat contin
ued to gaze at her. “No time like the present.”
“Now? This very minute?”
“When I’ve changed into the dress.” Opening the valise, she pulled out the dress that Harper gave her. It almost shimmered in the afternoon sunlight. “Next time, you’re coming with us.”
Going into the bathroom, she quickly changed. The dress was a perfect fit, and Kat found herself staring at her image in the mirror. Even when she was alive, Kat rarely wore a dress, and it reminded her of the dress she had worn when she went to Vienna during World War 2. Kat’s commando team had stared at her open-mouthed when she went down to the hotel’s breakfast room. But this dress was different. It came from the age of elegance, and she hardly recognized herself. Clipping her hair into a pleat at the back of her head, she put the boots on. They, too, were a perfect fit.
“Holy crap!” Dore exclaimed when she came out of the bathroom. “You look like you’re going to someone’s wedding.”
“Do I look nice?”
“Nice? You look bloody incredible.”
She looked at Giselle. “Is that true?”
Giselle smiled and nodded, reaching out to turn her around. “It’s true. You look amazing, Kat.”
“Well, let’s hope I’m as brave as I am beautiful. Shall we program the artifact?”
Giving $500 for Dore to pocket, she extracted the artifact from the valise and placed it on the coffee table. She had never programmed the artifact herself; she’d only seen Harper doing it. She knew what to do, Harper’s tutorial had been in-depth, but there was a big difference between knowing how and actually doing. Switching the artifact on, she waited until the screen lit up, then keyed in the instructions, Central Park, New York City, July 14, 1875.
She studied the artifact. A map of Central Park appeared on the screen. Kat Tapped in Central Park’s south entrance on 59th Street.
She looked at Dore. “Did you bring your new pistols?”
Dore opened his new jacket, revealing the two Colt Pythons nestling dangerously under his armpits. “Absolutely.”
“Good, because I’m not armed. Even if I could strap a gun to my thigh, with this long dress, I’d have to strip to get at it.”
Portals in Time 2 Page 2
