The Queen of Diamonds Read online

  Morton gave him an amused smile. "I'm well. Did you enjoy our conversation?"

  Tony stared at him.

  "As I said to Mrs. Spadros, sir, I'm no fool. If I had such a lovely wife, I wouldn't allow her in here alone unless I stood by."

  Tony burst out laughing, extending his hand. "I like you, Rainbow." He pulled up a chair and sat facing us both. "We could use a man like you here. Most of my men are young, and have little experience of life."

  Most of Tony's men were older than he was. I found it interesting that Tony would make such an offer. I wondered what Sawbuck (who surely was still listening at the door) thought of it.

  Morton said, "I thank you for your kindness, sir. But I would hardly know where to begin in such a Business, even if I weren't in the employ of the Harts."

  "What do you do for them, then?"

  "Ah, at present I'm little more than a messenger. I've worked as an investigator in the past, simply from boredom, and at times I retrieve information for them. We have no contract, and I've sworn no oath, if that's what you're asking." He smiled, but it was unpleasant. "And I'm not an enforcer."

  That reminded me of what my friend Vig said a few weeks ago, although with much more anger. I hoped Vig was well; while he sent me a note after our argument that night, I hadn't seen the man or been to his saloon since.

  Tony seemed taken aback. "Well, of course, I wouldn't expect a gentleman such as yourself to be one." His expression became calculating. "But it would be interesting to have a friend in Hart."

  He evidently didn't consider the Kerrs friends, then, despite his words.

  Morton chuckled. "A spy, sir? I've never done such work." He glanced at me. "It would hardly be honorable."

  I almost laughed. It echoed my words to Morton in the Diamond Party Time factory's basement when he tricked Frank Pagliacci's guard into helping us then shot the man. Morton's reply? "Fuck honor."

  And he knew I would recall that. But at the time, a little boy's life was at stake. And it occurred to me that we held Morton's life just as surely as I held David's that day. Morton could barely stand. "Perhaps we could come to some agreement that Master Rainbow would find suitable." I said. "Since he's sworn no oath."

  ***

  We decided Morton was doing well enough that we would be "at home" from now on. The next morning, Pearson came to my study telling me Miss Josephine Kerr had come to call.

  Which was odd. She visited the day before. Why this urgent desire to see me after our heated conversation a few days ago? I began to wonder if something was wrong. Had Joe taken a turn for the worse? "Seat her in the parlor."

  Tony had advised me to think when having the urge to act. After Pearson closed the door, I sat and thought, heart pounding. I wanted to rush in, grab Josie, and shake her until she told me Joe was safe and well.

  But Sawbuck didn't trust her.

  I remembered Tony's words: I trust Ten, and I trust you.

  Who did I trust?

  The moment of panic passed. I didn't have enough information. I needed to determine exactly how much to tell her about what went on when I told people I was with Helen Hart.

  I took a deep breath, stood up, and went to the parlor.

  Josie rose when I entered. She seemed perfectly composed, which made me feel much better.

  "I hope all is well?"

  Josie gave me a amused smile. "Yes, all is well. As well as can be expected, I suppose, under the circumstances."

  I gestured to the sofa. "Please, sit. Would you like some tea?"

  "No, thank you."

  I sat across from her. "Is your grandfather well?"

  "Perfectly well, thank you." She paused. "And before you ask, so is Joe."

  "Am I so transparent?"

  She chuckled. "A bit." Her face softened into fondness. "And I love you for it."

  I felt humbled by her trust in me, which I wasn't sure I deserved. I spoke quietly. "I'm sorry for any harm or worry or concern I've caused you. I forget how you must have suffered during the past six years."

  Josie nodded, her face grave.

  "I know how this looks. I'm a married woman, and your brother's terribly injured. Yet when he spoke unbecoming words instead of being a friend to him, I allowed him to shame himself. I can only pray he remembers none of our conversation."

  Josie said nothing.

  "I let my feelings for him cloud my judgment. I have no desire to prolong his pain by letting him believe there's any future for us together. I belong to the Spadros Family, and if they knew any of this they would kill him." My stomach knotted. "I fear it would be neither gentle nor quick."

  Josie nodded, gazing at the table.

  "I know what you must think of me. Lying to everyone about where I've been. Using your friend's name as she lay bereft and in agony, while I did, in your eyes, things I should not. But — "

  Could I trust Josie? I'd known her all my life. The way she'd been acting lately was strange — flying into rages, especially — but Joe had never been so badly hurt before. She must be under tremendous strain.

  Joe trusted her with his life. And I trusted Joe.

  "I need to explain what happened since they took me away."

  I sat beside her. In whispers I told her how I was grabbed by strangers at random times from the age of twelve. They dragged me to Spadros Manor, where I was stripped, beaten, and forced to learn the Spadros Family Business. I revealed how Roy forced me to marry Tony at gunpoint. I told her about my investigation business: how it began, why I did it, how I developed my network of informants, how I kept it secret. Then I told her about Eleanora's request, and my work with Morton to rescue David.

  I never used Morton's real name. It wasn't that I didn't trust her, but the fewer people who knew about Blaze Rainbow, the better. I couldn't involve the Kerrs in any conspiracy involving the Feds. While they were under the Harts' protection, it would be unfair to put them at risk. "So it was out of ignorance I used that story. I trusted the man, and I should not have. I hope you can forgive me."

  Josie relaxed. "I do. I too am sorry for not trusting you. So much time has passed, and people can change in ways you would not believe."

  We sat silently for several minutes. Morton's room was above us, and his bed creaked as he moved.

  Josie stirred. "Joe keeps asking for you."

  So this was why she came. I shook my head. "I don't think it wise to visit alone. It would be best if I kept my distance until he's completely well. And I ... I dread seeing Marja again. I did nothing to cause her daughter's death, and I know she doesn't blame me ... but I feel responsible." Grief twisted my heart, and my eyes stung. "I brought Ottilie here, and now she's dead."

  "Don't worry about that. Marja's no longer working for us."

  I felt horrified. "Is she —?"

  Josie stared at me, appalled. "Of course not! She works for my uncle now. My grandfather may be many things, but he's not Anthony Spadros."

  I felt offended at the comparison, but she had a point. The Spadros Family's way of dealing with problem people was not to move them but to eliminate them altogether. In that sense, Tony was very much like his father.

  But then I felt surprised. "I never knew you had an uncle."

  Josie smiled. "I never knew either. He changed his name to avoid the unpleasantness of being a Kerr. But he's a kind and honorable man."

  The door upstairs opened and closed. I heard a murmur of talk, but not what was said.

  "You have company?"

  "Yes, my husband's friend is visiting."

  Whatever they spoke of must have been amusing, because Morton laughed. He had a rather distinctive laugh.

  Josie glanced at the clock on the mantel and rose. "I must go; the doctor arrives soon. I promised Grampa I would take down the doctor's instructions. Joe has trouble remembering details."

  I walked her out to the front porch. "I'll speak to my husband again about visiting. Has he come by yet? He said he meant to."

  Josie shook her he
ad.

  I patted her arm. "Don't fret. You've lost none of our esteem." I took her arm, and we strolled to her waiting carriage. "We're renovating the casino, and it's taken a great deal of his time. He asks about Joe and his welfare."

  "That's good to know." She climbed into the carriage. "Come visit soon."

  Should I go? It seemed safe enough. No harm could come with Tony there; if Joe were to act in an unseemly manner, we could simply leave. "Yes, we'll be by shortly. I'll send a message as soon as I know the date." I waved to her as she left.

  As I stood watching her carriage drive away down the street and disappear into traffic, a great swell of gratitude brought tears to my eyes. Joe was well. Not healed by any means, but safe. Oh, gods, he was safe. And Josie and I were still friends.

  At the time, that was all that mattered.

  The Idea

  I went into my study, lit myself a cigarette, and poured a glass of bourbon to celebrate. But then I remembered Frank Pagliacci and Jack Diamond, and a weight fell upon my soul. How might I deduce their plans?

  Anastasia, Morton, and Zia all knew Frank Pagliacci, and quite well, it seemed. Yet none of them mentioned Jack Diamond.

  Did Frank Pagliacci keep his involvement with Jack a secret from them? If Frank wanted to make himself appear more imposing, claiming allegiance with a Family member would be the method of choice.

  Unless ...

  I thought about how Pagliacci boasted that afternoon in the factory. Could he fancy himself greater than a Diamond heir? This could cause conflict, which might lead to their downfall. Or, if the man truly craved attention above all things, cause him to make a mistake which I might exploit.

  But I felt as if I missed something. The last time I felt this way it cost two boys their lives and a third his sanity. I couldn't take the risk of missing something again. I took out a sheet of paper and began to write:

  Item One: Red Dogs break into Madame's Shop

  Item Two: False Notes — possibly false Invoices

  Item Three: Spies in brown (Duck & Crab)

  Item Four: Kidnapping and murder

  Item Five: Attack on Tony

  Item Six: Impersonating a DA — false Office

  Item Seven: Whipping a Horse

  Item Eight: Boat explosion

  I stared at this list, trying to see some pattern in it. After a time, I added:

  Item Nine: Impersonating the Red Dog Gang

  I perceived two patterns. First, deception. False notes, false invoices, and impersonations, all surrounding a "very good-looking" man. Second, violence. Attack, kidnapping, murder, whipping a horse, explosion, and whatever happened to Crab and Duck which affected Tony so. And whatever they did to little David Bryce.

  Deception and violence. Frank and Jack. It made sense. But I had never heard of Jack being involved with something like this before. Whipping horses? Exploding boats? Strangling boys?

  I leaned back, eyes closed. Something didn't seem right.

  I recalled my feeling that the kidnappings, murders, and attacks were distractions to keep us — or more to the point, me — from investigating the break-in at Madame's shop, which yielded the materials for the false notes and invoices.

  So what were the false notes and invoices for? Sowing discord, yes, they tried that. Using our money to finance their schemes: both devious and insulting. But once Tony's accountant reviewed the ledgers, we should have some idea of what they planned. What else might they do? There must be more. The plans seemed too simple, the distractions too great.

  And the boat explosion. What did it mean?

  I finished my glass and poured another. Morton and Zia could identify Frank Pagliacci. They were both in danger.

  Morton was safe as long as he stayed here, surrounded by our men. Zia seemed unlikely to take any warning I cared to give, even if I wanted to try to find her. At that moment, she was probably telling Frank I knifed her. I recalled the dark stain on the sandy cobblestones in that alley.

  At the time, I hoped she wasn't hurt too badly.

  If the boat explosion was an attempt to silence Morton, it made no sense for Jack to have done it. He seemed not to care at all who knew of his crimes. As a Diamond heir and Keeper of the Prison, he had the full might of the Bridges justice system behind him. Why go to the trouble of killing someone in such a dramatic yet inefficient way? A knife to the throat was more Jack's style, and much more certain of success.

  And I didn't like Morton's idea that the Feds might have been behind the bombing. Although most people in Bridges hated and feared the Feds, this wasn't their style at all. While they might track a person down, it would be to bring them to Hub to stand trial, not to murder them in their sleep.

  So that left Frank.

  An idea occurred to me so forcefully that I rose from my chair: a distraction was a side bet, not the main play.

  Frank Pagliacci was assigned the distraction.

  Jack Diamond wasn't sane enough for long enough to create this plot, nor to execute it.

  Someone else was in charge here.

  I paced the room for an hour trying to think of who might be in charge. This new man must be someone I hadn't heard of yet. Who might have enough influence over Jack Diamond to reliably control him? It was clear from the events at the Grand Ball that he didn't even listen to his own father.

  I sighed and rang for Pearson.

  He came in at once. "Yes, mum?"

  "Would you see if the Inventor is available to come here and speak with me?"

  "I'll inquire, mum." He closed the door behind him.

  After a quarter hour, Pearson announced Inventor Maxim Call's arrival.

  Inventor Call was wiry and brown, with thinning white hair and piercing blue eyes. "Well, girl, I'm here. What do you want?"

  I curtsied. "Sir, I wished to speak to you on the matter we discussed at our last meeting."

  He frowned. "Young lady, I'm old. I don't remember what I ate for dinner last night, much less a discussion we had for a few minutes last month."

  Really. "The Magma Steam Generator? Under the house?"

  "Oh! Yes! Now I remember. Your husband gave me a fierce dressing-down about my bringing you there, until I told him if he wanted me to stay he'd better show some manners. Used to be a good quiet studious boy," he shook his head.

  I chuckled, imagining the scene.

  "Well, what did you have me dragged up here for?"

  I hesitated. How did Anna put it? "If there is a way to cleanse the Generator and restore the pilings, and it was done on a routine basis for 400 years, there should be some mechanism in place. The mechanism surely has controls to it, which should be nearby. If those might be found —"

  "Then all we need to do is learn how to use them."

  I felt deflated. "You've thought of this already."

  "Indeed we did! We searched the place years ago, never found a thing." He studied me. "But it was a good thought."

  "I can't take credit. I asked a friend for advice, and she gave me this answer."

  "Really? I'd like to meet this woman."

  "Her name's Anna Goren; she's —"

  Maxim Call held up a hand. "I know who Anna is." He stood silent for a moment. "I asked Anna to marry me once. She was the most talented woman I ever met. Beautiful as well. Anna could have become an Inventor, but she couldn't stand anyone to direct her work, or limit her in any way." He paused. "How is she?"

  "Very well. She has an apothecary shop on Market Center, which supplies half of Bridges."

  His eyes reddened. "That's my Anna." He paused, gazing at the floor, then smiled to himself. "It gives me great pleasure to hear she's well and happy." His shoulders straightened, and he stood taller, as if gaining new courage. "When you see her again, give her my regards, will you?"

  "I will." I thought of the hidden compartment in Anna's shop. "Could the controls be hidden somewhere?"

  "Why would they do that?"

  "I don't know. It's just something which came to me.
"

  Maxim Call considered this for a moment. "Perhaps we're looking in the wrong place."

  "Sir?"

  "Well, perhaps the controls aren't in this piling at all. Perhaps the controls were powerful enough to work on multiple pilings at once. Why, there are six pilings in this quadrant alone! I'll have my boys look for hidden compartments here, of course. But I think we need to start searching the other pilings as well." He nodded to himself as he began wandering off towards the door. "Very interesting idea."

  After he left the room, I chuckled. What a strange old man. "Glad I could help!"

  The Truth

  I went to Madame Biltcliffe's dress shop that afternoon and did pick out the cloth for my Summer dress, but it only took ten minutes to do so. Then I changed into Madame's mourning garb (with veil) and was off to Market Center.

  Thrace Pike seemed surprised to see me, until I explained why I sent a note under another name. He appeared relieved, even glad, to see me with my bruise covered and no additional ones showing. In truth, the bruise Roy Spadros left on my face when he struck me last month was almost gone and easily hidden.

  Mr. Pike had puzzling news: each debtor had returned his notice saying that the gems had no curative powers whatsoever. "They seem honest men, who wished to learn the truth about the gems before selling them to others."

  "Why not just sell the gems at the going price?"

  "They feel this price is falsely elevated. To sell will leave their customers holding worthless merchandise. It's integrity which holds them back."

  I wondered if this integrity was a smart move.

  He must have seen my opinion on my face, for he said, "If they sell gems which turn out to be worthless, no one will trust their judgments in the future." He seemed pleased to be explaining something to me, which was amusing.

  His reasoning, however, made sense. But another matter puzzled me. "So if they believe they're being defrauded, why not return the gems? Why not go to the police?" Personally, I wouldn't go to the police, but surely a merchant might.

  Mr. Pike shook his head. "I don't know."

  ***