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So West, hand still in his pocket, came closer down the alley to the boys and was crouching down cautiously when the boys jumped him�but he was prepared for it, drawing a pocketknife rather than a coin and as the towhead leaped at him he fell backwards and used the boy�s weight against him, throwing him over his head back towards the street� �HAM!� �he had to kick back forward quick to catch the darker boy but was too late, the dark one had his own knife and got him good and well in the leg��HAM, GET OVER HERE!��and then both the boys were upon him again, one knife in his back and the other in his ribs but the blades turned against something unyielding beneath his coat no matter how hard they stabbed, and he was able to grab the dark boy by the throat and smash his head against the stones as Ham��GEROFF�IM YE BLEEDIN� DEVILS!��dispatched the towhead with what sounded like the butt of one of West�s pistols from his bag in the hansom. The dark boy wasn�t about to go so easily, however, and West had to knife the boy as near to the heart as he could, even as the child roared like a feral cat, still stabbing at West�s waistcoat, before his assassin gave up and fell back. �Blast me,� panted Ham, sagging against the brick wall. �Fiercest little buggers I ever seen! Bloody hell�� �Ham, the other one�� gasped West, staggering to his feet�and there was the towhead, lurching away into the alley. �We�ll get you,� the boy hissed. �We know you.� And before West and Ham were able to reach the street, the towhead had dragged himself away. �Cor,� breathed Ham, looking up and down the street. �Never seen the like of it in my life. They�re takin� in chil�ren now, are they?� �I wouldn�t doubt it. Come on, we've got to get this one to the furnace.� �Cor� blast me. Doc, ye�r bleedin� free at the leg, we ought to get ye back to the house and get ye tied up�� Of course, what Ham meant by �house� was not the Munro domicile but rather the Blacks� shanty down near the bottle factory, where he lived with his wife and half a dozen children. Ham was West�s right hand man in London and they had a nice symbiosis going: Ham had the use of the hansom for cabbing when West was gone, and between the children (the oldest of whom were already working) and Ham, West had a fine network of eyes and ears. Bess Black did a little charwork for him when he actually took up residence in his dirty little coldwater flat as well. The Blacks were always happy to see him; the children had already started squealing by the time Ham was helping him down from the hansom. �Lord, Hamish, what scrape�ve ye got the doctor into this time!� �Me? Me? Blame it on those hellions as what the doctor just got acquainted with, thank ye very much!� There was more than a twinge of defensiveness in Ham�s voice, as his wife was a head taller and twice as wide. The Blacks always put West in mind of fairy tales about plucky tailors and giants, and he smiled as Bess pushed Ham away and shouldered West�s weight herself. �Hold onna my arm there, doc, we�ll have ye patched up quick.� Looking around the shack now, at the laughing children plucking at his pockets for the candy he also used to bribe young street arabs, Bess asking if he�d �ad �is tea yet, Nettie and Jenny bringing the bread and butter, Ham flopping down in the patched armchair scavenged from a West End trash heap�West began to think for the first time about the steady money he would be getting from the government for his troubles, and what he would be able to do with it. He hadn�t had a regular income since his father had pissed away the family fortune out in the Far East. After Franzi�s death he had spent a few years practicing medicine in that dirty little flat, treating people who had even less than he did, and he had woken up every morning cursing the world but at least he didn�t feel guilty. Money began to feel like a precious drug that people needed, and he was holding in reserve for�what? He had lived hand-to-mouth in on the Continent, in truth a bounty hunter, and�rare as his work was�clients always found him. Even when he hadn�t had much, he had given it away freely to his spies and informants; now that the government was willing to give him carte blanche, he felt larded with surfeit. �Take this,� he told Ham, after Bess had made them supper and they had moved on to their next errand. �We�re on the payroll now. Think of this as hazard pay for this afternoon.� And Ham grinned and wadded the money into his pocket, wiping the soot away from his eyes. They were standing in the furnace room of the abandoned cannery down the street; it was the most convenient place to dispose of bodies for good, West had discovered. Always burned. They always had to be burned. �Just one more thing,� said West, wiping his hands. �I want to drop back by Victoria Park before we get to Munro House.� He was thinking specifically of the pieman�s boy now, particularly since his two young attackers had mentioned him, but the pieman himself didn�t know where the boy was. �Hain�t seen �im in two days, guv,� said the pieman. �Worthless blighter. Ran off with those sprats I caught stealin� pies, I warrant ye.� �Sprats,� said West. ��At�s right, little white-headed bugger and 'is ickle shadow. Kicked �em from �ere to the Park, I did. Cor, those two. Caught �em chattin� up my boy Jack just afore they did it. Sussin� out the cart, I �magine. Next day, Jack is gone. I figger, they�ve taught �im a more profitable trade than �prentice to a pieman by now.� West felt his heart sinking. �Where was the last place you saw the boy, exactly?� �There.� The pieman pointed a long bony finger towards some shrubbery just inside the Victoria Park gates, and West tipped him a few shillings for his trouble. No need for the pieman to ever think any different. It would probably only cause a panic, really, he thought dismally as he searched the bushes, and found what he was looking for: a thin grey hand, nails turning blue, peeking up from a pile of slush and foliage in a desolate corner of the park. A quick brush revealed that the boy�s throat had been torn out. It�s another one for the furnace, thought West; he covered the boy back up so he could tell Ham to bring the hansom closer to the gates. Nell Wilkins was of the opinion that the sun would not rise in the morning if Miss Rose told it not to. She was grateful to Dr. Munro for taking her in after her parents had died in the influenza epidemic of �78. It was an extraordinary act of kindness to take on her expenses and see that her education was completed; perhaps it would have been more extraordinary if he had not done this with the specific intention of setting Nell up as a companion and lady�s maid for his daughter. And perhaps if she had been orphaned at a younger age than fourteen, she would have been less aware of her status in the family� above and apart from the other servants, but a servant nonetheless. But at the same time, she knew that her family had been gently impoverished. She knew that an advantageous marriage was the only real way out of her predicament, and didn�t see one at hand; after that, maid service and factory work remained to stave off the downwards slide to prostitution. Instead, Dr. Munro, not even thinking of the greater consequences down the line, had cheerfully offered her a solution. Nell had lived with Miss Rose for eleven years now and, as far as Nell was concerned, answered to no one else; she had seen New York and Paris and Edinburgh with her own eyes and had every comfort she could wish for. Rose Hannah, while understanding Nell�s purpose in the household, treated her more as a sister, or (in her more doctorly mode) an assisting nurse. Nell did not think of herself as a maidservant; she thought back to Rose Hannah�s craze for historical biographies when the two girls were younger and how Miss Rose loved to read about Queen Elizabeth, and the red hair they had in common had suggested it: Nell was the lady-in-waiting to a great queen. Which was why she resented Mrs. Kirke horning in on her territory. �The white taffeta, or the lavender silk?� asked Rose Hannah. She stood in her chemise and wrapper gazing at the two gowns spread out over her bed, hands on her hips. �Darling, I don�t know why you�ve started wearing color so young. Really, you ought to be in white until you�re married.� Camilla was draped over an armchair sipping tea and smoking, while Nell embroidered defiantly in the corner. �I daresay I�m old enough,� said Rose Hannah, laughing. �Aren�t I, Nell?� �Miss Pansy�s ball is very important,� Nell said, stuffing a spare straight pin into her giant chignon. �The lavender is the prettier dress, and pure silk besides. And it does look so nice against your hair.� �She makes the better case, Cam. Lavender it is. And put out the cig?� Pleased, Nell put away her embroidery and helped Rose Hannah on with the lavender silk, carefully smoothing out a wrinkle here and there in the skirts like a priestess attending to the temple raiment. �Oh, suit yourself, then,� said Camilla, reaching for another scone once she had crushed out her cigarette. �I�d thought you might like to wear the diamonds with the taffeta, but it looks like the pearls would suit this one better�� �The diamonds?� asked Rose Hannah, startled. �I brought some of Otto�s jewels, of course. Can�t have you looking second-rate at a Radcliffe party.� And Camilla reached into the bandbox she had brought�until now, sitting unnoticed at her feet like a quiet dog�and brought out two velvet cases. �Poor thing�I�ve had another letter from him, you know.� �Do you really think I ought to wear the pearls?� Rose Hannah lifted them out oh-so-gently and held them around her neck at the vanity mirror, but hesitantly, as if she were smudging a museum piece. �They came from a prince, after all�I feel like someone would hunt me down and confiscate them.� Camilla chuckled. �They�re mine to do with as I please�a birthday present, and besides, no one in his family knows about them. They think he�s given me up entirely. Which I wish he would. The bloom is off the rose, as they say, and I�ve told him so� but if he sees fit to send jewels every month like clockwork, I won�t dissuade him. I�ve been as honest with him as you�ve been with your Mr. Osborne. Have you heard from him lately?� Rose Hannah realized that she had shuddered involuntarily at the name as she fumbled with the clasp. �You�ve been honest to a fault, then. Do you really think I should wear the pearls?� �Darling, they�re last April�s pearls, and besides, the prince is snug at home in Bavaria and none the wiser. Someone ought to get some use out of them.� Camilla came over to help her with the clasp, and Nell scowled. �Someone ought to answer the question as well.� Rose Hannah swept across the room, looking for her wrist corsage. �We�ve broken it off,� she said. �I�ve broken it off. For good.� �Oh dear. But I thought he was cracked over you, a little distance wouldn�t daunt him�� �That was the problem� he nearly smothered me. It�s the same argument as always� there�s no need for my career, so why have one? I understand asking me not to go to India. But to give up medicine entirely? He says there�s plenty of money in manufacturing, I wouldn�t need to work, but that�s missing the point entirely, but he just won�t see that.� �He did sound a bit intense, by your letters,� said Camilla, crossing the room after her� now Rose Hannah was struggling with the bracelet corsage. �Dear, am I going to have to help you with everything?� Irritated, Nell busied herself with hanging up the white taffeta, but before she could think of a new reason to resent Mrs. Kirke, Parkes� brisk knock rapped at the door. �I�ll get that!� she cried, and closed the door behind herself to shield her (fully-clothed, but still) mistress from the butler. A minute later, she was back: �He says there�s a call on the telephone for you, Miss Rose. An emergency, it sounds like.� |
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