The Jacq of Spades Read online

  I never named the bird. It had its own name which it knew itself by, and I felt it would be wrong to give it another.

  Jon didn’t look well, and I wondered why they had gone out. “Are you warm enough?”

  He nodded. “Thank you for your invitation, by the way.”

  “I’m sorry it’s taken so long to have you over.” I smiled at Gardena. “I know there’s someone who will be happy to see you.”

  Jon and Gardena gave each other a glance which seemed part puzzlement and part hope. “Let us speak with our father.”

  “I understand.” I hoped Julius would relent and let them accept the invitation. What could Tony possibly have done or said to make Julius Diamond hate him so?

  We sat silently for several minutes, then Gardena insisted I walk with her, leaving Jonathan bundled up, sitting with a cup of tea at the table.

  “Never mind Jon,” she said. “He’s in a mood. I thought bringing him here would make him feel better.”

  “It’s such a shame Jon’s not feeling well. Does Jack have similar troubles with his health?”

  “Him?” Gardena laughed. “His troubles have nothing to do with his body. He will likely outlive us all, unless he does something drastic.”

  I stared at her, appalled. “Has he ever talked of doing such a thing?”

  She shrugged. “He talks on every subject, in every permutation. He has days where he doesn’t sleep, days where he appears and acts quite normally, and days where he only sleeps. On his sleepless days, he talks incessantly.

  “My mother bans him from the house when he is like that; his chatter keeps the whole house awake. So he roams the streets, talking with everyone in the quadrant. My father’s men accompany him to make sure he keeps out of trouble.”

  Jack sounded much more disturbed than I thought. “Has he talked of …” I was going to say “me,” but I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea, “… us?”

  Gardena looked at me sideways. “He speaks of you, the elder Mr. Spadros, your father … Sluff, is it? … and his departed friend Daniel. Daniel’s death is an obsession with him. Jack’s men were supposed to keep him away from you the night of the Ball, but they were distracted. My father was quite displeased.”

  Gardena put her arm through mine. “It’s a comfort to be able to speak of this with you. I’m not supposed to, but you are discreet and sympathetic.”

  I smiled at her. “Thank you for your trust.”

  “Besides, you’re not a Spadros, not really. You don’t think like them, you don’t act like them. You don’t even look like them.” She let go of my arm and twirled around. “My father would have kittens if he knew I shared such information, but I don’t care what he thinks.” She skipped around, then came up to me, speaking in a conspiratorial tone. “One day, we must have a sleep-over party, and do each other’s hair, and tell our deepest secrets.”

  I laughed. “You are delightful! Should we invite Katherine?”

  “Certainly.” She no longer smiled. “And Calcutta Clubb, and even dull little Ferti Hart.”

  “I didn’t mean to offend you. I thought it a nice way to spend time with you both. We can have our party alone, if you prefer.”

  “Yes, I do prefer. Katherine is bothersome, and too much wanting to please her father. He doesn’t need to have any of my secrets, thank you.”

  I chuckled. “No, he doesn’t.” Jonathan leaned forward with his chin on his hand, staring into the air, and I felt uneasy at leaving him alone. “I think Jon despairs of seeing us again.”

  “We shall bring him flowers!” Gardena began collecting them from my garden, without so much as a by-your-leave. I watched her go here and there pulling them like a young girl, and wondered if she intended to remain such forever, or if she had some deeper intent for being here.

  A maid came out as we approached the veranda and took the flowers from Gardena, returning with them trimmed and neatly arranged in a vase.

  Jonathan smiled when he first saw the flowers but returned to looking morose.

  “Whatever is the matter, Jon?” I said.

  He leaned back, smiling brightly. “Oh, too much thinking, that’s all.”

  I chuckled. “I’m not often accused of that. You can be my balance.”

  He immediately seemed happier. “I accept your challenge.”

  Gardena took a few quick steps off, turning to frame us as if a photographer. “Lovely! A picture of perfection.”

  I laughed.

  Pearson came outside. “Mrs. Spadros, will your guests be staying for tea?”

  I turned to them. “Will you?”

  “Of course!” Gardena said. Jonathan said nothing to dissuade her, so we went inside.

  Whatever Jonathan’s troubles were, he spoke of them no further, and we had a merry time talking and laughing.

  At the stroke of five, Pearson came in, holding a glass. “Your water, sir.”

  Jonathan’s face held deep gratitude. “Thank you, Pearson! How kind of you to remember.” Jon took the water from Pearson, then opened his small velvet bag, removing several small clear vials filled with liquid of various colors, which he lined up.

  Each had a number engraved on the side, and Jonathan put the three bearing the number “5” directly in front of him, the light from the setting sun shining through them as it peeked through the clouds.

  He then took a small thin glass eye-dropper from the bag. He took two drops from each of the number 5 vials, placing the drops into the glass of water. He drank the water and put the vials away.

  He had done this “for his health” for as long as I had known him, and I simply thought it an affectation. But up until now he had never seemed ill.

  “Jon, what’s wrong? Why do you take these?”

  “For my health,” he said, as he always did. “Oh, you mean today? It’s nothing.” He smiled. “I feel much better. The hot tea was invigorating.”

  Relief washed over me. “I’m glad to hear it.”

  About half past six, Tony returned, surprise on his face. “Good to see you.” He shook Jonathan’s hand, then he came and kissed my cheek. Gardena glanced at Tony, a question in her eyes. When I glanced at Tony, his face held no emotion.

  “Good to see you too.” Jonathan smiled. “Unfortunately, we must go; we have another engagement to dress for.”

  I felt confused; a few minutes before, they seemed ready to stay all day. “Thank you so much for coming.” I walked them to the front door. “I was really glad to see you.”

  Pearson opened the door. “Until next time,” Gardena said. Then they left, and Pearson closed the door.

  I stood in the hall puzzled. “That was odd.” I turned, and Tony was gone.

  Tony seemed distracted at dinner, and went into his study soon after, closing the door. So I went in my study to finish setting up the dinner party.

  I had been planning the menu, decorations, entertainment, and seating for at least an hour. I was wondering who I could invite to complete the table when Pearson knocked on the door. “A Master Blaze Rainbow to speak with you.”

  Pearson handed over a card.

  Blaze Rainbow, Esq.

  No. 5 Eighty-Fourth Street

  Hart, Bridges

  “At this hour?”

  “He seemed most insistent to speak with you, alone. Shall I call your maid?”

  I studied the card, front and back. It appeared a perfectly presentable calling card. I shook my head. “No need.”

  Who might this man be? What might he have to tell me which required such urgency?

  “Very well, mum.” Pearson didn’t approve.

  “Dear Pearson.” I took his hand. “You may stand ready in case I should scream. But I doubt anyone who passed your scrutiny would attack me in my own study.”

  “Yes, mum.” He seemed both relieved at standing guard and gratified by the compliment.

  I prepared myself for the man’s entry, curious as to the nature of his visit.

  The door opened. The gentlem
an wore the latest fashion, with a tan outer coat and a dark brown top hat. He took the hat off as he entered the room, which shielded his face from my view until the door closed. He put the hat in his other hand, which held a polished oak-stained brown walking stick tipped in gold, and turned, straightening to look at me.

  I felt astonished. “Morton!”

  He walked into the room, finger over his lips. “Now, Mrs. Spadros,” he said, his speech impeccable, “would any creature named Morton be in your study?”

  I laughed, delighted. “How wonderful! However did you —? No, I won’t ask, not now. How may I help you?”

  Morton had a beautiful smile; his teeth were perfect. That was his best feature. I wouldn’t have called the man particularly handsome. He was at least thirty, yet not much taller than I. His face was too angular, his nose too large, and his skin had not survived adolescence well. But today, he appeared quite the gentleman, wearing a brown suit and polished brown wingtips. “Any news on your missing lad’s whereabouts?”

  “I have hardly had time to do an investigation.”

  “I can be of assistance, if you are willing,” Morton — or, I should say, Master Rainbow — said.

  I felt suspicious. “What is your interest in this?”

  “I believe someone is attempting to subvert the original goals of the Red Dogs, discrediting the group to further his own agenda. I intend to stop him.”

  “But why? What are the goals of this Red Dog Gang?”

  He gave me a sudden, surprised glance.

  “And why would you be involved with such a group in the first place?”

  “Ah, my dear, I don’t give up my secrets so easily. I will say only that many people are not particularly fond of your Family’s rule over this city.”

  “But you’re willing to help me.”

  Morton smiled. It was Morton of the Diamond Pot, yet it was not. The transformation was remarkable.

  “I’m sorry you’ve come all this way. I have no information.”

  “Madam, if you do come across any, I beg you to allow me to accompany you. I could be an asset.”

  The man seemed quite motivated. “I have your card. If I should need assistance I’ll contact you at once.” The door to Tony’s study opened. Tony and Pearson spoke in the hall, but I couldn’t hear what they said. “I must now concoct a reason for your visit. My butler will certainly tell my husband of your arrival.”

  “Be at ease, madam. I have prepared for just such an eventuality. This may assist in your investigations.”

  Just then, the door opened, and in came Tony, who had a somewhat wary look to him, not sure what to make of all this. “I have not had the privilege of making your acquaintance, Mr. …”

  “Rainbow.” Morton handed over another calling card. “Master Blaze Rainbow, currently of Hart quadrant.”

  Morton and Tony shook hands. I stood there, amazed.

  “And to what do my wife and I owe the honor of your visit?”

  “I’m sorry to call at such a late hour, but Mrs. Hart was most insistent.”

  Tony frowned. “Mrs. Hart …?”

  “The younger Mrs. Hart, Mrs. Helen Hart, put together a luncheon for tomorrow. The invitation for Mrs. Spadros fell behind her sofa cushions. She found the invitation this evening and was distraught at the idea that Mrs. Spadros wouldn’t be able to attend.” He produced an invitation. “But fortunately Mrs. Spadros has assured me her schedule is open.” He paused, turning to Tony. “I hope this is still the case?”

  “I … well, of course! Thank you for your kind efforts.”

  Morton bowed. “I won’t keep you any longer.” He handed me the invitation, which seemed thicker than normal, and left.

  I put the invitation in my pocket, and we sat by the fire. Tony rang for Pearson to bring us drinks.

  Blaze Rainbow’s calling card sat between us.

  After Pearson returned with the drinks and went on his way, Tony said, “I hadn’t heard that the Harts were engaging gentlemen as their Associates. They must be either doing very well, or they have some very bored gentlemen.”

  I laughed. “Perhaps some gentlemen such as this Master Rainbow see a way to move up in the world.”

  Tony tilted his head, and his eyes widened. “I hadn’t considered this.” He smiled. “You’re most perceptive.”

  I shrugged. It was the way the world worked. I felt grateful for the compliment, but I was no more perceptive than my husband. He lacked only the experience in moving from the depths, having been born to luxury and privilege.

  Being a gentleman meant privilege of its own. But in a city where one Family owned a fourth of the city, having seized most of its buildings, country-houses, and lands, even the titled were lesser to those in the Business, whose privilege was unrivaled.

  This privilege meant much more than just financial affluence. At Tony’s word, men died, families were torn apart, whole neighborhoods were devastated. How could you not be shaped by being born to such power?

  “Such energy in bettering oneself should be encouraged. And I like the idea of gentlemen rising in the Business. Hart is a genius.” Tony leaned back, sipping his drink as the fire crackled and snapped.

  Perhaps this Master Rainbow really was a gentleman. He seemed quite confident and prepared. But why pretend to be a Pot rag? Why run a Red Dogs trey?

  Tony would never speak with the Harts, asking about Morton and his relationship with them. The Families considered such information secret.

  Gardena Diamond’s revelations about her brother Jack, for example, could be seen as treasonous. Her father might feel justified in beating or even killing her for betraying a member of her Family, should harm befall them because of her prattle.

  These thoughts made me re-evaluate that entire conversation. Gardena either lied outrageously, or she trusted me much more than she should, to the point of utter foolishness, nay, insanity. But which was it? Could she have a touch of the madness which afflicted her brother Jack?

  This concerned me quite a bit. I liked Gardena. I didn’t want any sort of illness to befall her.

  But there was an underlying motive for their visit which was not clear to me. Jonathan — who, if anyone was sane, it was he — seemed deeply troubled. His younger sister Gardena desired some response from her stories which I failed to give, and …

  I shook my head. It made no sense.

  “Is anything wrong?”

  I frowned. “I had a conversation this afternoon which I’m not sure how to interpret.”

  “Ah, Miss Gardena Diamond.”

  I laughed.

  “She often speaks in riddles. I often wonder if she has motives other than she states, so I guard my tongue when around her.”

  I considered the matter. “That’s probably wise. She is a Diamond, after all, no matter how pleasant.”

  Tony smiled. “She is attractive,” he said, the sudden huskiness of his voice showing the truth, “but … a man would despair were he to become attached to her. She is too changeable, too … too much the actress, and not enough the reality of life. I don’t know how else to say it.”

  I nodded. It was a good description, actually.

  The alternative was that she was a tremendously good spy. No one would ever suspect a woman who acted as she did of being a spy.

  I leaned back, drained my glass, and poured another. This was a puzzle, and I always enjoyed them.

  But Tony put his hand over the glass. “No more. We have sat talking for long enough. I would like to go to our bed-chambers.”

  I chuckled, noting the irony. Thinking of Gardena Diamond evidently stirred some passion in him.

  The Finesse

  In the morning, I opened the invitation Morton had given me the night before.

  Inside the invitation was a note:

  Mrs. Spadros,

  I presume you are alone while reading this. If not, do not show any level of surprise or alarm.

  Mrs. Helen Hart did invite you to a luncheon, but it is nex
t week, and you have declined because of a prior engagement. She is neither alarmed nor unhappy by your decline; the invitation was a formality urged on her by her father-in-law.

  Since I don’t know the outcome of our meeting tonight, I can’t advise you further. If you require assistance tomorrow, travel to the Hart quadrant at the appropriate time and go to the Ladies’ Club. Enter, but do not sign in. Ask directions to the boathouse and visit the gate to dock 36. A maid of your size will be there. She is deaf and mute, but reads lips, and will bring you to a place where you can exchange clothing.

  Interesting. He knew I changed clothes to perform my cases. Was he the man who followed me? No, I decided; the man I saw was much taller, more slender. Master Rainbow might be an excellent disguise artist, but no one could change their body to that degree.

  The invitation will allow you to cross the bridge into Hart quadrant. I trust you understand what should be done with this note.

  Your servant, BR

  I smiled at the last line; I was female, not stupid. I threw the note in the fire. Try deciphering that!

  Even without the note, and without having seen Helen Hart’s writing before, I should know the handwriting was not hers. A bit heavy for a woman’s. An excellent imitation, though: Morton was to be commended.

  Amelia came in with my tray, paper, and mail, and I had her pick out a luncheon dress for me. I asked her to choose a color many ladies were wearing, suitable for visiting another quadrant, that had a hat with a veil.

  She was very good at fashion; at first, I had chosen poorly and been reprimanded or embarrassed. Then Roy picked Amelia for my lady’s maid, and her understanding of such niceties came in handy at times.

  “Will you be needing me to accompany you?”

  “No, spend time with your family. I may be delayed past tea — I’m not sure what Mrs. Hart has in mind for us!”

  Amelia smiled. “It must be grand, going to luncheon parties and such.”

  I understood her feelings perfectly. “It must seem that way, but these are not friends. The invitation was a way to show off their wealth and status, and I must take care with every move I make. One wrong word could cause a great deal of trouble.” I paused. “It will be a tiring day.” Every word true, just not the way she took it to mean.