The Queen of Diamonds Read online

  "I would be delighted."

  The maid came in, bringing us tea, small sandwiches, and thin slices of cake. "Will there be anything else, m'lady?"

  "That will be all."

  The maid curtsied and left, closing the door behind her.

  I picked up my teacup. "How may I help you?"

  "On the contrary, my dear, I have something to speak to you about which I hope you'll find beneficial."

  She wore her signature necklace: twenty large round-cut diamonds in a chain, a teardrop dangling in the center. Rumor had it the necklace was worth tens of thousands of dollars; she had guards with her wherever she went. The diamonds sparkled in the sun as she talked.

  She wished me to collect old debts from a list of men, which she handed over. "I hope you can do this in the next two weeks."

  It seemed rather short notice for such a long list. "Is there a reason for the deadline?"

  She nodded. "I didn't want you to hear about this from someone else. I'm moving to another city."

  The news stunned me. "Moving away? But why?"

  She waved her hand. "This all looks lovely, but I'm close to bankruptcy. The cost to mine these so-called miracle gems is enormous. Now that they are so popular, the mining company is charging me double. Even these improved prices are only covering my bills."

  "But why move away?"

  "Business these days ... it's just not what it used to be. I feel like I'm losing my touch." Her head drooped. "I'm getting too old for this. I need to think of my future." She gestured. "All this ... plus the Family fees every month ... I'm moving where I can live more simply."

  I was seventeen years old. I stood next to Tony a second after the announcement of our engagement. None of the hundreds of people in the hall moved. Disdain, shock, and horror filled every face as they stared at me. Roy stood there, glowering at me as if it were my fault. My face burned with humiliation.

  The elegant woman rose, gliding forward to take my hand. "Congratulations, my dear."

  Dame Anastasia went to the mantle, where a bank lock-box sat. She set the box on the table, took a small key from her pocket, and unlocked it. After removing her necklace, she placed it in the empty box, locked it, and handed me the key. "Yours: a token of my esteem and gratitude for doing me this service."

  I was astonished. "Surely I can't accept this for payment. It's too much. It's too much even as a gift."

  "It's no gift! Well, yes, it is, somewhat. Payment and gift both. I'm an old woman; I have no real need for this. And I don't think I could sell it, even if I wanted to." She gazed at the box. "It was one of my most beautiful creations ... but I won't be able to afford guards for it when I leave." She paused for a moment. "It'll look stunning on you. The thought of you wearing this at some dinner or ball," she patted the box, "fills my heart with joy."

  "When do you plan to take your trip?"

  "As soon as possible. I have a buyer for the manor. I have to settle some business dealings before I can leave, but certainly within the next few weeks."

  "Do you have to leave so soon?"

  She gave me a fond smile. "You are a dear. But I'm moving, not dying; you and Mr. Spadros are welcome to visit anytime."

  The maid came in with a fresh pot of tea.

  When the maid left, Anastasia said, "There is another matter. Frank Pagliacci."

  Finally, someone with information on that murderous scoundrel. A bit late, now he was dead, but her information might give me some clue as to how to approach the problem of Jack Diamond. "Tell me what you know of him."

  She let out a breath, looking away. "I've been day-leasing my horses. It brings in some income. Two weeks ago, Frank Pagliacci leased a horse from me. He had done so before, and in the past, returned the horse in good order, so I leased him my best palomino. But he never brought it back. So I sent a letter asking for its return. He wrote a few days later saying it ran off."

  A few days later?

  "My men found the poor creature whipped almost to death outside a brothel in the Diamond Pot. The men there had bandaged its wounds and were taking care of it, but it's too hurt for me to sell for what I wanted."

  I felt alarmed. "He leased the horse two weeks ago. And you received a letter from him when? The dates may be important."

  "Let me check my records." She left for a few minutes, returning with a ledger. "He leased the horse January 30th —"

  The day we rescued David Bryce.

  The day I shot Frank Pagliacci.

  "— I sent the letter to him on the first of February. He replied on the third."

  I stared at her in horror.

  Frank Pagliacci was still alive.

  The Danger

  Frank Pagliacci was still alive. How? "Might I see his letter?"

  Anastasia took a letter from several she had marking the place and handed it to me.

  The writing seemed different from the false note which started me on Frank Pagliacci's path. It was a man's heavy hand, yet a fine one, showing education and skill at writing. I handed the note back to her. "Thank you."

  "Was this information helpful?"

  "Very." But it felt surreal. Frank Pagliacci ... still alive? "Where does he live?"

  She handed me an envelope. "I send letters to his box at the post office on Market Center."

  Not much help there. "What does the man look like?"

  Color rose in her cheeks. "He's quite handsome, that one. A charmer. About your age, tall, with brown hair." She paused, then shook her head. "But I can't have anything more to do with him, not after what he did to my horse." She shuddered. "Something is deeply wrong with the man."

  I hoped she never learned of the terrible things he had done. Kidnapping, murdering boys ... who knew what else? "I'll begin work at once on your debtors. I know just the person who might be able to help."

  On the mile-long walk home, Honor trailing three paces behind, I considered my situation. I didn't miss when I shot Frank Pagliacci. But a serious hit would have left the man dead before he reached a doctor. Between the terrible fall from the overseer platform and the delay before his men got to him, I felt astonished he survived. But he did, and it was only a matter of time before he contacted Jack Diamond and they continued their spree of kidnapping and murder.

  Frank Pagliacci said he captured David to lure me. Then after capturing me, he planned to kill the Spadros Family one by one as they tried to rescue me. A foolish plan, but I suppose one an amateur villain with a desperate need for revenge might concoct.

  But Jack Diamond's involvement didn't make sense.

  Jack Diamond hated the Spadros Family because they supported and protected my father after he murdered Jack's friend. But from all accounts, Jack Diamond was mad. Obsessed with cleanliness, refusing to dress in anything but white, even to the soles of his shoes, sleeping all day then not sleeping for days. He flew into a rage at the Grand Ball and even tried to attack Jonathan, his own twin. Yet at other times, he could appear perfectly normal.

  Jack's reputation as a murderer and torturer went city-wide. But Jack had no reputation for convoluted plots such as this.

  And he had never targeted children before.

  But between Frank Pagliacci and Jack Diamond, Jack (when lucid) was the most dangerous of the two. While the Diamond Family was neither as rich nor as powerful as ours, Jack had enormous resources at his disposal. He could reach even into the Spadros quadrant: he left a Red Dog card on my doorstep despite our guards at the bridges and marinas.

  Jack Diamond was a menace. When I had proof of his involvement in David's kidnapping and those boys' murders, I planned to meet with the Four Families. I would demand Jack either be confined to a ward or they allow me to kill him.

  Spadros Manor appeared in the distance, a white two story building shaped as a U, its arms pointing towards me. I began to make a list as to who might be able to provide such proof.

  Eleanora Bryce, David's mother. A man fitting Jack's description came to her home a week before David
was taken. We saw two men put a boy-sized struggling package into a carriage in the Diamond Pot: one man in white, the other in brown. Eleanora told me the man in white was the one who came to her home.

  The stable-man at the carriage house on Market Center told me these same two men stole the carriage. The man in brown gave the name Frank Pagliacci. I found David's hair in the carriage, as well as a button and fibers from Frank Pagliacci's jacket.

  This wouldn't hold up in front of a Family inquiry. Also, the stable-man and Mrs. Bryce were both lowers, easily discredited.

  And even though I was the wife of the Spadros heir, I was a woman. Worse yet, a Pot rag, one of the untouchables, despised just for existing. My upbringing in a brothel, my lack of education, and anything else Julius Diamond could learn would be used to discredit me. And to testify against Jack, I would have to reveal my part in all this. The thought of what Tony and Roy might do if they learned of it terrified me. I had to find solid proof, something no one could gainsay, and I had very little time to do so before Jack Diamond and Frank Pagliacci regrouped.

  First, I must send word to everyone involved, warning them that their lives were in danger. I couldn't risk that they'd be targeted without their knowledge. Mrs. Bryce and her son David were in particular danger. David had said nothing since his rescue, but he could not only identify Frank Pagliacci and Jack Diamond but testify against them.

  We reached the house and passed the stables. Tony's men stood guard out at the street, tipping their Derby hats as I passed. We walked up the walkway and through the wide front porch. Honor opened the door for me. Pearson stood by his podium, glancing up as I entered. "Ah, there you are, mum. A letter just came for you."

  Honor helped me out of my coat, handing it to Pearson. I placed my handbag in my dress pocket and removed my hat, which Pearson also took. "Very good. I'll take it in my study."

  I went upstairs to my room, where Amelia sat mending. She stood immediately when I came in. "How was tea, mum?"

  Had Pearson not told her about our conversation? "Lovely." I let her change my street boots out for soft house shoes, and then she got me out of my walking dress and into a house dress. I took Dame Anastasia's lock-box key from my handbag and locked it in my dresser drawer.

  "I have the blue on blue chintz gown ready for dinner tonight," Amelia said.

  I saw no anger at my removing her son from their rooms without consulting her; if I were to guess, she appeared happy. "That's fine, thank you."

  The poor child.

  Why would Amelia wish her own son gone? I never had a child, but never wanting to see Tony's little sister Katherine? Or for her to think I hated her? It was monstrous.

  "Amelia, do you know what happens in the Pot to a man or woman who beats a child?"

  She gave me a blank, terrified stare.

  "The other adults gather, then beat that person to death." Amelia didn't react, and I took a deep breath to keep my voice from shaking. "So I find it difficult to know the best course here. Shall I dismiss you?"

  Amelia came forward and fell to her knees, grasping my skirts. "Oh, please, mum, you can't, not after all I've done for you. I never said anything about your going out at night, or your business, even when Mr. Roy cut me."

  "Get up." It was true. This made me angrier. I gritted my teeth to keep from kicking her. "Why does your boy think you hate him? Why do you hit him?"

  She turned away. "I ... I become so angry when I look at him, I can't ... I can't think. I know it's wrong, but ..." She covered her face with her hands for a moment. "I can't speak of it, mum ... I can't ... even if I wanted to."

  "You've been forbidden to speak of it."

  Amelia stared at her hands. "Yes, mum."

  This had to be Roy's doing. I clenched the sides of my skirt to keep myself from shouting. "You are not to hit your son again. Is that clear? Or I swear to all the gods above and below, I will dismiss you, and let the cards fall where they may."

  I didn't wish to speak to Amelia any further, or even to see her, so I went downstairs and into my study. I lit a cigarette to calm myself.

  The letter Pearson spoke of sat in the center of my desk. It was from Madame Marie Biltcliffe, my dressmaker.

  Mrs. Spadros,

  This notice is to remind you of your appointment for tomorrow, the Sixteenth of February, from 2:00 to 4:30 pm, for the final fitting of your Spring gown. Please advise me at once if this time is no longer acceptable for you.

  Your servant, Marie Biltcliffe

  I had no such appointment, but inside this note was another:

  Mrs. Spadros, I must see you urgently. It is regarding my son. — EB

  This must be from Eleanora Bryce. Did David finally speak? The boy had done nothing but rock, sucking his thumb, since Morton and I found him in the basement of Jack Diamond's Party Time factory. If David could identify Jack as the man who kidnapped him, that might be enough to persuade Julius Diamond to restrain his son.

  Madame Biltcliffe and I had an arrangement where she would pass notes from clients. She often concocted suitable alibis so I might speak to clients without my husband or his men knowing. But I also needed to speak with Madame further about the break-in at her shop.

  And the dress did need hemming.

  I wrote a note to Madame telling her the time tomorrow was acceptable, sealed it, then leaned back in my chair. Since the ordeal with finding David, all I wanted was to rest and recover. I still felt weak from my illness, and the walk to and from Anastasia's home left me weary.

  I lit a cigarette from the end of the first one and gazed outside my window. The patrolling guards reminded me of our constant danger. I must establish my own income, and soon. If anything should happen to Tony, I would be on my own in a city full of people who hated me. Roy Spadros had made it clear any assistance or protection he offered was for Tony's benefit alone.

  But I had no real paying cases at present. This business of Anastasia's hardly qualified. Although the necklace was lovely, I would never sell it unless I found myself in dire straits. It was her lifetime achievement; she treasured it above all things.

  I didn't understand why she would just give it to me.

  Yet the case itself was straightforward and simple. No police were likely to become involved. It could be handled by attorneys, putting myself in no danger whatsoever. And I had the perfect lawyer in mind.

  Well, he wasn't a lawyer, not yet. But I felt certain I could persuade the apprentice law clerk Thrace Pike to help me, perhaps without even having to pay him.

  I chuckled to myself (until I began to cough) but felt unsettled about another matter. As much as I hated to admit it, I needed to contact Roy. I knew exactly what he meant by his note: it was time for my shooting lesson. We met every month, always when Tony was away.

  Roy could have had Molly send me a letter. Instead, he sent notice through Tony, knowing Tony would show me the note. Yet he didn't specify why he wanted to see me. This indicated he believed Tony didn't know of our lessons.

  This seemed unlikely. Tony made no comment or question as to what Roy and I might have to discuss, and he knew Roy would want to come here.

  Whether Tony knew of our lessons or not, the important thing was that I got them. I should have killed Frank Pagliacci that afternoon. The next time I had the man in my sights, I wanted to be prepared.

  Did I dare contact Roy, after Tony denounced him?

  No, I didn't dare, not yet. Perhaps I could find someone else to teach me.

  The stable-man was a more difficult matter. I felt at a loss as how to warn him of the danger he might be in. I didn't even know the man's name.

  I took another sheet from my writing-desk and wrote:

  Stable-master, Market Center

  Sir:

  We met last month about two men, thieves of a carriage: one named Frank Pagliacci. I have reason to believe you are in mortal danger from these men. They have murdered two boys at least, and may be willing to remove all who might identify them.
<
br />   I can't advise you as to the precautions you should take, but it might be well to arm yourself.

  With sincere regards,

  A friend.

  I put this note in my pocket. I couldn't send it from Spadros Manor; the messenger boy would tell the stable-man who sent it. I would have to find some other way to get the message to him.

  When I gave Madame's note to Pearson, he said, "Peter Dewey wishes to speak with you, mum."

  Amelia's husband. Pip's father. "Send him in."

  Our stable-man Peter Dewey had brown hair and eyes, and was of medium height. He had changed from his usual work clothes into his best suit. He held a clean but battered gray hat in both hands and peered around, eyes wide.

  He had never been in this part of the house before.

  "How can I help you?"

  At this point, he gave a slight start, and focused on me. I didn't rise to greet him. "Begging your pardon, mum." He took a step towards my desk. "It's about my boy." He took another step, and his shoulders straightened as he took a deep breath. "He's too young to go to the men's quarters. He's only ten."

  "Why are you letting Amelia mistreat him?"

  Peter's whole body jerked as if he had been slapped. "That's none of your affair, mum."

  "It is my affair, when a boy in my household says it would be better had he not been born."

  Peter stared at me, eyes reddening. "When —?

  "Last night. I found him on the stair, wrapped in his quilt."

  He began shaking his head. "I'm sorry, mum, he shouldn't have been there —"

  "I'm glad he was there. I'm glad he talked to me, and you will not punish him for it."

  He paled. "I've never laid a hand on him, mum. Never."

  "I know. He defends you."

  His shoulders drooped. "No. You can't take my son from me."

  "I'm not. He'll be in the same building. On the same floor."

  Peter didn't say anything.

  I stood up, incensed. "Floorman help us! Think of your boy, instead of your pride."