The Jacq of Spades Read online

  He didn’t look like a Diamond, which made me suspicious. I had no proof he was even from the Pot, other than an accent.

  But we might not get a better chance. “We go.”

  Someone whistled, close by. We hurried through the maze of alleys, around broken fences, and down streets piled with the rubble of war after war. It began to snow as we went.

  For once, Mrs. Bryce said nothing. I heard her panting as we went round corner after corner, across streets, through alleys, then through another melted hole in the wrought iron, until we got a couple of blocks from the building Morton mentioned.

  Two gentlemen carried a struggling package, boy-sized, which they placed into a carriage. One had light brown skin and wore brown, the other had dark skin and wore white.

  “David!” Mrs. Bryce said.

  The men climbed in and the carriage moved away.

  I ran after them, Mrs. Bryce behind. Then I slid to a stop. “Follow me!” I ran for our carriage. A dozen blocks away, the carriage still stood there. “Go to the end of the street, then follow the tracks.” After I helped Mrs. Bryce in and shut the door, the driver did so.

  “That was him.”

  “Who?”

  “That man in white … it was him. He came to the shop … a few weeks … before David went missing.” She paused, panting. “He was the only one … who came by … the week we moved here. All three of us came out to the store front to meet him.”

  I leaned back, horrified.

  “I thought he was a neighbor.” Mrs. Bryce stared at her hands. “Why would he take David?”

  We sped down the lane, following the tracks, as the snow fell with more intensity.

  I jerked away from a motion out of the corner of my eye, so Mrs. Bryce’s slap barely grazed me. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “You got my Nicholas killed!” She unleashed a flurry of slaps and punches, which I deflected as the carriage barreled along. I knew this was coming, but the timing of it surprised me.

  Finally she stopped, weeping. “You got him killed! He would have done anything for you, and you got him killed. He was just a little boy.”

  We were born the same day.

  After Peedro finished his negotiations with Roy, he let me go. The crowd began muttering about him killing a child, picking up bricks and iron rods as they moved towards him.

  Jack Diamond glared up from where he knelt by his friend, shaking with rage, dark eyes full of tears. Even Roy Spadros didn’t frighten me as much as the look in this man’s face, which promised terrible vengeance.

  The memory frightened me still.

  I ran to Air, sobbing, but he lay dead. My vision blurred as I half dragged, half carried Air through the foul-smelling streets all that long walk home.

  I didn’t want the rats to get him.

  My mother woke when, exhausted, I dropped Air’s body with a thud on the wooden floor of our quarters. Once she deciphered what had happened, she sent her girls with messages and put me to bed.

  The minute she left the room, I crouched next to the door until Air’s mother came for his body. I listened to her screams, her sobs, her curses.

  Eleanora said the same thing that night ten years ago: I got him killed.

  I did get him killed. I thought about it every day; his death filled my dreams every night. There was nothing I could say.

  * * *

  After about a half hour, the driver pulled over and came round to our window. “Begging your pardon, miss, but I lost them for the snow,” he said. “Can you tell me who you’re following?”

  I leaned out of the window. “It was a carriage like yours, almost exactly.”

  The driver shook his head. “The way that left back wheel was wobbling, he won’t be driving it long. And the other had a divot outta the right back; when he made the turn back there you saw snow clear as day. That’s got to be stole from the carriage-house on Market Center. It’s on the repair list or I’m an old maid.”

  “Can you take us back to Spadros? I’ll pay extra.”

  “Gladly.” The man smiled. “Most fun I’ve had all day.”

  Mrs. Bryce didn’t like abandoning our pursuit.

  “What would you have me do? It’s snowing. There are no tracks to follow.” I paused for a moment, thinking. “Let me look into this further.”

  She wept. “My little boy … why are they holding him? He’s done nothing wrong!”

  We didn’t know that, but it wouldn’t help to say it. “I think I know where to look from here.”

  “So you’ll find David?”

  “Now you want me to help you. After all that?”

  She glanced away. “Yes.”

  The whole world became silent.

  Toss the deck — Jack Diamond thought I took the case already. “Yes, I’ll find him.”

  “Thank you,” she sobbed. “Thank you.”

  “But I must tell you true. I’m not the police. I’m just a woman. All I can do is find David, not catch the ones who have him, not bring them to justice. We might not even learn why they did it. If I get him home, you both may be in danger. These scoundrels may try to take him again. But I will find him. Will that be enough?”

  “Yes.” She wiped her tears with her handkerchief. “All I want is my boy back, even if for just one day.”

  I patted her hand. “I always find who I look for.”

  I neglected — for her sake — to mention that sometimes I found them dead.

  The Motive

  Tony hadn’t returned by tea time, so I sat in my study alone and took my tea there.

  A man in brown followed me to Vig’s place.

  A man in brown took the boy to the carriage.

  At least one man in brown watched me. I almost caught a glimpse of his face several times. He always seemed familiar.

  Could this be the same man in brown who followed Stephen and frightened him so?

  At first I passed off Stephen’s fear as a child’s paranoia, but Stephen was more than a child.

  This explained something which bothered me earlier. Perhaps the man in brown followed Stephen the day I was to meet him, frightening him so much he felt the police were his only hope.

  And this scoundrel was allied with Jack Diamond.

  I drank my tea with a sense of foreboding.

  One reason I hadn’t wanted to tell Mrs. Bryce I would find David was I wasn’t sure I could.

  There was more than pride at stake. Being a woman investigator meant most people didn’t trust I would do more than take their money and apologize when I failed. Even most women would rather pay more and have a man take the job, feeling only a man would give a proper day’s work.

  My only leverage so far was I never failed to complete a case. All my contacts were given permission to say so.

  For me to take the case then not find David Bryce — whether dead or alive — could mean the end of my career.

  Not having had luncheon, I ate everything the maid brought me, not realizing it until I saw her surprise when she returned. “Will you be having anything else, mum?”

  “Another pot of tea, please.” I almost asked for rum, but I needed a clear head.

  “Yes, mum.” The maid turned to go.

  “You’re Jane’s girl, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, mum, Mary Pearson.” She curtsied.

  “Thank your Ma for the sandwiches, they were very good.” Fortunately, they were good; we ended up having them for the next several weeks, until Tony tired of them and asked for something else.

  “Thank you, mum.” She curtsied and left with the dishes, coming back a few minutes later with a pot of tea and a fresh cup and saucer.

  I pulled over an ottoman and put my feet up. There were so many questions. What puzzled me most about this case was the motive. Why did they take David?

  The kidnappers never asked for ransom: neither gold, nor items, nor information. Instead of taking a rich child, they took a widow’s son. They didn’t sell the child to men who preferred su
ch toys, but simply kept the boy, as they kept the guards.

  These men gained nothing from the kidnappings other than a brief time of torment, which perhaps gave them a perverse sort of pleasure. In a way, this reminded me of Roy, but Roy seldom released his victims. That raised another question: why let the men go and not the boy?

  Something in this felt personal.

  Perhaps they meant to strike a blow at our Family by capturing Spadros guards and attacking Tony. I understood Jack Diamond’s hate, if it were he I saw, two blocks away. If someone murdered Joe, I might want to strike back at them, especially if I were mad.

  But what was the man in brown’s motive? Why partner with Jack, of all people? Or was this man just a lackey?

  Many of our servants weren’t descended from the first Acevedo Spadros, as it turned out. But I never heard of the Diamonds using retainers from outside their Family.

  After the murder of Jack’s friend, the Diamond and Spadros Families were at war for almost a year. During that time, the Diamonds expelled anyone from the quadrant who couldn’t prove ties to the Diamond Family. Many of those foolish enough to flee to the Spadros quadrant ended up in Roy’s torture room.

  For a while after, you had to be related to the Diamonds to even live in their quadrant. Even now, people said: Diamonds only protect their own. This man in brown didn’t look like a Diamond to me.

  So where did he come from? The man in brown must be a man of means or influence, to move so easily between quadrants. Even Jack Diamond would have trouble doing so.

  Did he leave the card on my doorstep? I had seen no one skulking outside our home. With the attack, our men had been coming and going too much for strangers to get close without being seen. I wished I could get a better look at the man, or determine a way to identify him….

  His clothing choice made a formidable disguise. Every fashionable young gentleman of means dressed in brown that season; there might be several thousand in the city.

  The door opened and Tony came in. He still wore his overcoat, as if he came in straight past Pearson.

  I rose to greet him, but he waved me to sit. “I can’t stay; my father wants to take the route the guards remember and see what we find.”

  “But you’re not completely well.”

  He raised his hand. “I won’t be in danger. We have fifty men to search, and six will stay with the car. There will be no second ambush, unless this scoundrel has more men than we imagine.”

  If he did, it could be all-out war. “Be careful. I would have nothing harm you.”

  Tony smiled, and came over to kiss me. “I hope to be home before dinner. It should be quick, whatever we find.”

  And then he left me sitting with cold tea and fear.

  Tony did return long before dinner, but sat quiet and pensive. After dinner, we sat in Tony’s library by the fire, sipping brandy.

  Finally, I ventured, “How did your expedition fare?”

  “Poorly,” Tony said. “We had the men describe the path, each blindfolded, each in a separate car, but neither destination showed sign of their captivity.”

  Two men, two destinations? This seemed odd. “Where did you end up?”

  “Two warehouses in Spadros. Both guards were definite in that they did not cross a river.”

  They didn’t cross a river. Why did these men move the boy?

  Tony shook his head. “Where could this gang be hiding?”

  “You think it’s a gang?”

  “What else could it be? No matter how large or strong, no man could overpower four armed guards, bind them, transport them, and hold them for weeks by himself. And six attacked me and my men.”

  This made sense. “And then there’s the little boy.…”

  Tony clapped his hand to his forehead. “I completely forgot the child. I saw no sign of him. I don’t know where to look for him. I’m sorry.”

  Even though I would rather find David myself, I felt a sense of loss at Tony’s failure to find him. Someone needed to find him; by now, he must be in a terrible state, not even having other captors to comfort him.

  What sort of monster would do this to a child? “This situation enrages me.”

  “I feel distressed as well. If the other Families hear our guards can be treated so, we could find ourselves under attack as they seek advantage.”

  I hadn’t considered this. Should I tell Tony what I saw?

  How could I? I wasn’t supposed to even be in the Diamond quadrant, much less chasing child-murderers around the city.

  The only proof of Jack Diamond’s involvement? A glimpse of a dark-skinned man two blocks away wearing white and the word of a widow from the Spadros slums.

  Against a Diamond heir, whose family owned the prison and had enormous power over the courts, it was no evidence at all. For the Spadros Family to make such a dire accusation without proof could plunge the city into war.

  But I remembered what Josephine Kerr told us as children in the Pot: never let anyone get the upper hand, or they will kill you.

  Josie ran our gang, the High-Low Split, with Joe as her backup. Even the High Cards listened to her. By the time I was taken to be betrothed, the other gang members in the Spadros section of the Pot were either part of the High-Low Split, or they were dead. “You’re right in this. You must punish these men, and soon. No one respects those who can’t protect and care for their own. This is why those in the Pot are so despised.”

  “I don’t despise you, or your family. Never think that.”

  I put my hand on his. “I have never thought so. You have only offered comfort and support.” No matter what Roy had done to me, this at any rate was true.

  The Visitors

  The next day, this article appeared in the Bridges Daily:

  Saloon Raided, Owner Fined

  Last night, the Spadros quadrant saloon The Pocket Pair was raided by the police, who suspected the owner of selling Party Time. None of the substance was found on the premises, but several of the ‘working girls’ were jailed for being in the quadrant illegally. The owner, one Vig Vikenti, a native of Spadros, was fined $50.00 for hiring without letters of recommendation and released on his own recognizance.

  Those ladies would regret not securing their papers. Whether they did a poor job at their last post, were on the run from a lover, or whatever circumstance led to this disaster. Wherever they were from, they were members of the Pot now.

  I sighed, and Amelia, who was making the bed, glanced over but said nothing.

  I felt as if this might have been my fault for bringing the shop under the notice of the police, but in my mail was a note:

  Vig is fine, no worries. Gypsy gal fine too. Was too rough with cops that day, they found a way to pay back. They don’t like me. — V.

  I could only imagine.

  Immediately after luncheon, Constable Hanger returned, a bit less rumpled this time. Tony was off doing his monthly casino inspection, so I had Pearson show the man to the parlor.

  “Yes, Constable, how may I help you?” I gestured for him to sit across from me. “Would you like some tea?”

  “No, mum.” He continued to stand with his feet apart and his hands behind his back. I thought it a nice touch: men liked to make a show of superiority, particularly when powerless. “Were you aware, mum, that letters were being sent from Eunice Ogier to the Spadros Country House?”

  I frowned. “Eunice … Ogier …. Is that the woman you came here about last time?”

  “Yes, mum. Apparently she was known by a member of your kitchen staff at the Country House.”

  “I shall speak to the staff about this at once.”

  “Yes, well, the woman said Miss Ogier left the city.” He seemed disappointed. “I thought you should know.”

  “Thank you for telling me. Is anything else required?”

  The constable hesitated. “Do you have mourning garb?”

  “Why, no, I have never needed to purchase any. I have been most fortunate in that regard.”

&n
bsp; The constable nodded. “Yes. That is most fortunate.” He paused. “Well, I’m sure you’re quite busy. Good day, mum.”

  Interesting. He clearly suspected me. But it would be a brave judge indeed who signed the warrant to search Spadros Manor.

  * * *

  Later that day, Jonathan Diamond and his younger sister Gardena came to call. Gardena was two years older than I yet still unmarried.

  I couldn’t understand why. She had no elderly grandfather to forbid her marriage, and was attractive, poised, and intelligent. Perhaps too much so; some men disliked women who spoke their minds, and she had no qualms about doing so. Her unmarried state didn’t bother her, though; she enjoyed life, and happily spent her father’s money.

  “I’m sorry that Mr. Spadros isn’t here to greet you.” It was strange: Tony had never once been here when Jonathan or Gardena came calling.

  “When do you think he’ll return?” Jonathan said.

  I sighed. “Not until time to dress for dinner. Alas, today he must work.”

  “We must have an adventure, then!” Gardena said.

  Jonathan looked pained. “Nothing too strenuous, I hope.”

  “Oh, I forgot, my poor dear brother still has the cold in his joints.” Gardena flopped down on the sofa, royal blue dress and raven curls flying.

  Jonathan sat with difficulty, leaning heavily on his cane. “Don’t mock me. It’s most unpleasant not to be able to run and frolic as you continually want to.”

  “Jon is old already, while I will be young forever.”

  I laughed. “I’ll remind you of that when you’re eighty.”

  Gardena stuck her tongue at me, and I laughed harder.

  “So what shall we do?” she said.

  I glanced at Jon. “Do you feel well enough for the garden?”

  “I think so.”

  So we moved to the veranda, which sat off the dining room, with a fine view of the gardens. The day felt warm for this time of year, but Jonathan put his overcoat on before venturing outdoors.

  I checked on my little bird, white with blue-gray markings. It hopped about a large white cage, which hung from a white metal stand. Tony asked me what I wanted for a wedding gift shortly before we married, and I chose this, so I would never forget.