The Adventures of

Xavier & Vic

Book 2

The Missing Partner

By Liza O’Connor

∞

The ‘New Woman’ Who Lost Her Old Mind

The Lost Servant of Dante’s Hell

The Disappearance of a Very Important Man

The Abduction of Sneaky Snake by a Grand Elephant

The Cat Who Wore Too Much

Blurb

London, England  March 1894

Vic Hamilton takes the reins of the investigation office, while Xavier Thorn disappears on an assignment for the British government. Her caseload is entirely ‘lost and recovery’ cases. In the midst of solving all her client’s problems, she learns that the government has lost Xavier. With the help of the gypsy pirate Jacko, and her driver Davy, Vic rushes against time to rescue everyone.

Most alarming, she befriends and hires a dangerous criminal as an employee of Xavier Thorn’s Private Inquiries—without Xavier’s permission.

All rights reserved.

Any reproduction of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying, electronic copying, or recording is forbidden without the written permission of the author.

All characters in this book come from the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names, titles or professions with the exception of the many artists whom I mention in Chapter 24 who did live in this era. However, the paintings I describe and any character attributes I provide are purely fictitious. Then in Chapter 28 I mention a great many inventors of dental equipment who truly invented the items. I also mention the Queen on many occasion, but all character attributes are solely my creation. Finally, any character attributes made of the author Mr. Doyle, who wrote the Sherlock series, is my own fabrication. And Xavier wishes me to mention: Sherlock Holmes is nothing like Xavier Thorn. End of discussion!

Table of Contents

The Missing Partner

Blurb

All rights reserved.

Table of Contents

Interesting Historical Facts:

1) White Slavery:

2) First Car in England

3) Dental care

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Other books by Liza O’Connor

A Long Road to Love Series

CONTEMPORARY SUSPENSE

Requires Rescue Series

SINGLE CONTEMPORARY BOOKS

The Adventures of Xavier & Vic

SINGLE HISTORICAL NOVELS

The Multiverse Series

Sci-Fi Soap Opera with humor, romance, and science

Artificial Intelligence

Interesting Historical Facts:

1) White Slavery:

The abduction of young girls and boys as fodder for the prostitution market has always been a problem which England has been loath to deal with. As late as 1874, it was only a misdemeanor to force a girl thirteen or younger into having sex. No protection existed for those older than thirteen. For years reformists tried to get a bill through parliament to increase the protection of young girls, but each time the bill was blocked.

Finally, investigative journalist, William Thomas Stead, decided to expose the problem of child prostitution in the London underworld through a publicity stunt. He "purchased" a 13 year old girl, Eliza Armstrong, for £5 and took her to a brothel where they drugged her with chloroform.

He went on to publish four exposés entitled The Maiden Tribute of Modern Babylon, shocking the public to their core with tales of the abduction and sale of young English virgins to "pleasure palaces".

Forced to respond to the fury of the public, in 1885 the parliament finally passed a law protecting girls up to sixteen, which still stands today.

No laws existed back then to protected young boys in England, and didn’t until 2014.

So was it possible that forced sex slavery still occurred in 1894?

Without a doubt. The truth is that laws do not stop the crime if they are not actively enforced, which they weren’t. That problem continues to this day. Recently it was made public that over 1,400 + English youths were forced into prostitution in the town of Rotherham over the last sixteen years. Evidently, the police and social workers were aware of the problem, but thought it better to do nothing about it. The attitude was much the same in 1894.

2) First Car in England

In 1895, the Honorable Evelyn Ellis purchased and brought the first automobile over the channel to England. It was a Panhard-Levassor from France.

The Panhard-Levassor had been available for sale since 1890. Thus, in my story, I have my character, Mr. Robinson buy the car in 1894 upon hearing the Hon. Ellis planned to buy one.

The reason why Englishmen weren’t importing cars was because the law stated that you could travel no faster than 4 mph and a man with a red flag must walk before the contraption. Also, obtaining fuel would be a challenge and you would need to hire a mechanic to your staff.

When my fictional character Mr. Robinson went to prison, he lost all rights to claim the honor as the first to buy a car in England since it was sold to reimburse the poor servants he’d abused. (As if the problem of him being fictional was not deterrent enough.)

3) Dental care

While England was slow on developing dental care, the Americans and French were most creative.

A) X-rays.

In my book, I had the amazing New Orleans dentist, Edmund Kells, share his ideas about X-raying teeth to my English dentist, David.

Edmund doesn’t actually try the X-ray machine on a living patient until 1895/96 (sources differ), but over in England, David found a machine shop to create the device and my character Tubs was his first patient in mid-1994. I used fictional license, because I truly wanted Tubs to have his teeth X-rayed and in doing so, provide the reader a humorous moment. Thus in my story, the discovery of X-Rays and Edmunds insights into its possibilities happened one year earlier than reality.

B) The Excavation of cavities vs. pulling teeth.

The electrical dental drill was developed by American George Green in 1874 so no troubles with drilling Tub’s teeth, other than they all needed drilling.

C) The Painkiller.

The American dentist, Gardner Quincy Colton discovered that the use of nitrous oxide anesthesia made for happier patients. In 1894, he traveled all over the U.S. and Europe talking about his findings. Thomas Edison even made a short film about him. Naturally, my character was fascinated with this advancement.

Since David began using it, he’s become the most popular fictional dentist in all of London.

Some dentists used cocaine instead. I suspect their customers didn’t fare as well long term.

D) The Filling.

While it was possible to fill Tubs’ plethora of cavity holes with gold, that would have been pricy. So instead I used my fictional license one last time to allow Black to figure out the best filling solution a year earlier.

In 1895 American, GV Black perfected the formulation of the amalgam for filling teeth: 68% silver with small amounts of copper, tin, zinc. His mixture dramatically reduced the swelling and shrinking of the fillings due to temperature changes. I see no reason he couldn’t have figured this out sooner, lazy bugger.

And thus ends your history lesson.

Until book 3, in which you will learn some mind blowing claims about mesmerism.

Chapter 1

London, England, March 1894

Xavier entered though the back door of his place of business, Xavier Thorn’s Private Inquiries, and slipped into his office.

His apprentice-partner Victor Hamilton sat at the desk, pounding away at the typewriter. “I would be better off deciphering hieroglyphics. How is it possible no one made Xavier learn to form his letters properly?” Vic squinted at his scrawl. “Sometimes I think the man was raised by wolves.”

It had been nearly a year since he’d hired Victor as his secretary only to discover that beneath the boy’s manly attire was the body of a young woman—a woman he loved more than life itself. She fit him to perfection. While Xavier had no use for a proper wife, Vic filled all his needs both personally and professionally. Had he searched the entire world, he could not have found a better partner in life. And how she came to be his, still amazed him.

Wanting an interesting life, Vic had chosen at the age of twelve to live her life as a man. Her guardian, Maddy Hamilton, had allowed her to do so, and gave her butler Gregory the task of raising Vic into a proper young man. And while the butler annoyed Xavier with his high handedness, he could only praise the fabulous young man Vic had become.

Even before he discovered Vic’s true gender, the scamp’s brilliant mind and intuitive skills captivated him. While Xavier was considered to be the most brilliant sleuth in England, given time, he had no doubt Vic would surpass him.

But his pup wasn’t there yet, and he did not appreciate her current tirade in the least. Not after all the risks he’d taken to see her. He eased behind the chair and curled his hands around her delicious neck.

She jumped at his touch. “Damn it, look what you made me do!” She pointed to the blackened mess caused by four keys striking the page at once. “I’m not typing this over. You’ll just have to make do with a blot in your notes.”

His grip on her neck tightened, and he leaned down to speak softly in her ear, “Quiet, pup, or I’ll have to muzzle you.”

She turned to look at him and grimaced. Her fingers almost touched his scarred face, but then pulled back. Instead, she patted his chest, no doubt checking for injuries. For a brief moment, relief flooded her eyes. Then her brows furrowed, and she glared at him with ferocity. “Where have you been?” Her intense, demanding whisper left no doubt of her annoyance with him.

He raised an eyebrow, silently chiding her for asking questions he could not answer. If only he didn’t have to leave her in the dark.

Her worried eyes spoke volumes. “You’ve never been gone this long before. I was afraid—”

He placed his fingers on her lips to silence her naturally low voice. He hadn’t abandoned his post and risked the safety of England so he could be scolded. The First Minister would no doubt take that task upon himself when he learned Xavier had disappeared while a dangerous spy wandered about the streets of London. Right now, however, Xavier had more pleasant matters in mind than an old man’s tirade.

Pulling Vic from the chair, Xavier led her upstairs to their bedroom. Once inside, with the door locked, he placed his fingers on her soft lips once again.

She sighed in exasperation at his request for silence and glared at him in mute, yet amazingly loud annoyance.

Ignoring her glare, he loosened her octagon tie. The outrageously long shirt collars and fancy bows Vic wore made him chuckle. His ersatz male partner was nothing if not fashionable. A challenge since she had to send a footman for her fittings with London’s finest tailor.

He removed her dandified gentleman’s clothes and the muslin shirt she wore beneath her suits that assisted in her disguise by flattening her breasts and widening her waist.

Once he freed her from her ‘anaconda shirt,’ as she called it, a deep sigh of relief escaped those tender lips. He suspected that garment was the only thing Victor disliked about her life as a twenty-three-year-old young man. Otherwise, his impertinent pup relished the freedom and excitement life as a gentleman-investigator provided.

He massaged her poor crushed breasts and teased her nipples until she moaned with desire. With her assistance, he removed his beggar-man street clothes. Please God, she wouldn’t insist upon him removing his facial disguise. It would take an hour to redo.

When she made no indication that his hideous face would impede her ability to make love to him, he led her to their bed. Vic grabbed the cravat along the way. His loins tightened at the thought she might wish to tie him up.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have time for a game of hostage. He wasn’t supposed to be here at all, but Xavier had no choice. He’d feared if he didn’t make an appearance, Vic would set out to find him. That would put her and his mission at risk.

All thoughts of his second occupation disappeared as Vic pushed him onto the bed and straddled him with her long legs. He chuckled at her desire to be on top. She was evidently feeling her oats after being in charge of the office for a month.

When she shook out her silk tie, he opened his mouth to admit they didn’t have time. His protest died on his tongue when she placed the silk over his face.

His beloved might be willing to make love to a smelly street bum, but evidently, she drew the line at looking into his one-eyed, hideously scarred and mangled face.

Deprived of his sight, he had his hands see for him, feeling and touching every part of her muscular, yet slim body as she washed him down with a wet cloth, fitted the condom over his manhood, and made delicious love to him.

Afterwards, Vic removed the scarf and flinched at the sight of his face. Shuffling further down, she laid her head upon his chest.

“Vic, your behavior makes me suspect you only love me for my handsome looks,” he teased.

She nipped his chest. “If I had been in less need, I would have made you bathe and reinstate your real face.”

He was tempted to kiss her on the top of her head, but having dried blood and clay in her hair would no doubt rile her temper.

Pushing herself up, she met his one un-patched eye. “I gather your assignment isn’t done, yet.”

He stroked her back. “Sorry.”

“Well, it’s good you dropped in, because tomorrow, I planned to search for you.”

He was not surprised, but still displeased to hear his greatest fear spoken aloud. “That would have put both of us in grave danger.”

Clenching her hand into a fist, she thumped him on his chest. “Then don’t push me to it. Send me a message if you cannot come. Do something! Just don’t expect me not to care when I haven’t heard from you in a month. I’ve been sick with worry since the second week. You are lucky I waited this long.”

He gripped her fist and held it tight. Seeing the pain in her face, he regretted not coming sooner. Thank God she had not set out after him. “Why did you wait so long?”

“Davy convinced me two weeks, and then three weeks, were not unusual for you. However, now even Davy thinks you’re dead.”

“He told you that?”

“No. He advised me to carry on with the office and take in new clients.”

“Then what makes you think‒”

“He bursts into tears at the mere sight of your teacup and he refuses to enter your office anymore.”

Xavier could not believe the baggage that came with family. His job used to be so easy when not a person in the world cared if he lived or died. “I’m sorry I worried you both.”

Vic crossed her arms. “You are not forgiven.”

“Vic!” He sat up, shocked she would be so unfair. She knew his work for the government was vital, even if he could not share the details of his assignments.

Leaving the bed, she grabbed her anaconda shirt and tried to wrestle it on. He came to her assistance before she inadvertently strangled herself.

“Vic, I’m sorry. I’ll make arrangements to let you know I’m fine if an assignment goes on more than three weeks.”

“One week.”

“Be reasonable—”

She turned and faced him. “I am being reasonable. Tell them if they do not leave me a bird feather on the office doorstep each Sunday you are away then I am going to search for you.”

“Vic—”

“Point out to them how much more difficult it will be to hide your whereabouts from me than to send someone by with a feather.”

While the trick might ease Vic’s mind, it would also remove the necessity of his visits. “Will you be satisfied with a feather?”

After tilting her head and considering the matter, she shook her head. “No. In fact, they might very well send me feathers when they haven’t a clue if you are safe.”

The First Minister would almost certainly delegate feather delivery to a clueless underling.

“Since a feather provides no certainty you still live, I want a visit, at least once every two weeks.”

Xavier smiled. He liked her new ultimatum much better. “I will let them know. Although, they may wonder why an apprentice cares so much about his master.”

“You are not my master. You are my partner.” Vic grumbled further complaints beneath her breath as she put on her shirt and trousers.

“I do not recall making you a partner quite yet.”

“Then tell them an apprentice requires the presence of his‒”

“Master?”

“Skilled employer or he might quit and go work for Inspector Stone at Scotland Yard.”

Xavier rose and tossed the necktie in her face. “Don’t even think it, you ungrateful pup. You wouldn’t last a week at Scotland Yard. Either you would die of boredom, or Stone would fire you for your impertinent tongue.”

He collected his filthy beggar clothes and then stared at his body. “Damn! You washed away my disguise.”

Vic glared at him, then stormed from the room. She returned a few seconds later with the coal bucket. “Here, dress away!”

She tried to leave the room, but Xavier snared her arm and pulled her to him. He wanted to kiss her, but refrained. “Vic, you will have your way in this matter. If they don’t agree, then I will simply disappear when I can. Either way, you will not be left in the dark, wondering if I’m alive or dead for more than two weeks.”

Vic smiled up at him, and then flinched as she took in his face. She pressed her cheek against his clean chest. “Thank you. I’m sorry to be so cross with you, but this has been a very hard month.”

“For me, as well.” He stroked her short blond hair and held her tight against him for several long minutes. He hated leaving her so soon, but he had an elusive spy to capture.

The clock chimed eight. He had to go. “Do you have any morning appointments?”

“A lost servant at nine.”

He almost asked how one loses a servant, but decided to let it slide. “Will you help put me to right since you washed away all my carefully applied dirt?”

She stepped back and looked at the bucket of coal she had brought him. “I will keep you company while you cover yourself in filth, but that is all. Otherwise, I will not be fit to receive our client at nine.”

“If you weren’t prepared to put me to rights, then why the bloody hell did you wash me down?”

“I know what you’re about and it’s not going to work.”

Her response took him by surprise. “And what do you think I’m doing?”

“You think if you leave me in a huff, it will be easier, but it won’t. In fact, it will be worse. We would both suffer torment, unsure if the other realized our angry words were not truly meant.”

Xavier raised his brow, but didn’t argue. “Then tell me about this lost servant while I put myself to right.”

“I’ve not much to tell. When the gentleman arrived yesterday to make his appointment, he only said his parlor maid was lost and he needed you to find her.”

“Make certain you speak to the wife before you waste much time on this. More than likely, she’s fired the maid for flirting with her husband and simply won’t admit it.”

“After I get the particulars, I intend to speak with his wife, any sons over the age of fifteen and the butler before I decide how to proceed.”

“Sons…good idea.” In all probability, Vic would wheedle the truth in short time. She had a gift for getting people to spill their guts. With him, they would lie until he bullied the truth out.

Xavier frowned as a darker thought occurred to him. “If this case turns toward a seamier solution, I want you to wait for me.”

Vic sighed. “If I can.”

Her answer infuriated him. “What the hell does that mean?”

She matched his glare with a scowl of her own. “It means just what I said. If I can afford to wait, I will. However, if some young parlor maid is two hours from death, I am not waiting two weeks for you to return and intercede.”

“Then‒”

“Take Davy. Yes, I will.”

“And your gun!”

“That goes without saying. I’ll take my knife, as well, if you like.”

Evidently, Vic’s intuition told her this case was more than a fired servant. “Call up Davy.”

“Why?”

He huffed at her challenge. “My God! I’ve been gone for a mere month and you think you can challenge every command from my mouth. You do not need to know why. Just call him up!”

Vic glared at him and stormed from the room.

By the time he had finished dressing, she returned with his trusted driver in tow. Upon sight of his boss, the man rushed forward and crushed him in a powerful hug.

Xavier struggled to escape his grip. Why couldn’t he have normal employees? “Davy, stop before you break bones.”

Releasing him, his driver stood back. “Sorry, sir. I’m just so glad to see you.” His brow furrowed as he stared at his employer’s face. “That’s just a disguise, I hope.”

“No, I caught my nose in a meat grinder and am now forced to live in the streets because my true love cannot bear the sight of me.”

Vic laughed. “Can’t fault her there.”

Davy nodded in agreement. “Me either.”

“A fine set of friends you two are! If I ever do lose my looks, I’ll remember not to expect a happy welcome home from either of you. In fact, I’ll fire you both and hire blind people in your stead.”

Davy frowned. “I don’t think a blind driver will work out very well.”

“I’ll sit beside him and call out directions. As long as he follows my instructions to the letter, he’ll be fine.”

Vic laughed aloud at his threat. Even Davy smiled, clearly unconcerned about being replaced with a blind man.

He ignored his impudent pup and focused on Davy. “I’ve an order for you.”

Davy lost his smile and managed to look Xavier in his one good eye. His driver loved being involved in cases. “A month in charge of the office has made Vic too cocky.”

His driver gave a slight nod in agreement, which worried Xavier. What the hell had his pup been up to? Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to find out just now.

“If you see Vic getting in over his head, call Jacko for assistance.”

The relief in Davy’s eyes worried him.

“Jacko isn’t needed,” Vic snapped.

“Even if Vic doesn’t think he’s necessary, you can call him, Davy. The decision is yours.”

“I’ll do that right now.” Davy turned and hurried downstairs.

Vic tried to run after him, but Xavier gripped her arm.

“Let me go!” She leaned out the bedroom door. “Davy, don’t you dare call anyone!”

Xavier pulled her to him and slammed the door shut. “I am very tempted to lock you in this room until I can return and sort this matter out. Clearly you are up to something that has Davy worried.”

Vic’s stubborn expression and lack of denial worried him further.

“Do you recall the promise we made to each other? Not to take any risks more than necessary?”

She studied her feet a long moment before nodding.

“I suspect whatever you have done or plan to do I would consider a violation of our agreement.”

She stared at the door and refused to answer.

“Vic…I’m not trying to clip your wings. But if Davy thinks he cannot keep you safe, then at least accept a better partner in crime.”

She sighed and almost placed her head on his chest. Upon a closer look at the filthy shirt, she stepped back, but stared up with resignation. “I would much rather you were my partner.”

“Believe me, now I know you are up to mischief, I will end this damn assignment as fast as I can.”

Her eyes filled with worry. “Don’t rush and put yourself in danger. I’m not involved in anything too serious. Davy is just an old woman.”

“Davy spent twenty years in one of the roughest prisons in England. He is not ‘an old woman.’” He sighed at her stubborn visage. “However, Davy is very fond of you and may be overprotective.”

“He is.”

“Then use Jacko. The man is completely fearless and objective.”

Scuffing her shoe on the floor, she muttered, “All right.”

“And if a pirate objects to your plans, then I declare you in violation of our agreement and want your promise you will stop.”

When Vic said nothing, Xavier shook her. “Vic, I’m serious. I love you too much to allow you to put yourself in harm’s way.”

Her eyes met his. “And what about you? Am I to believe you do not place yourself in harm’s way when you disappear on these assignments?”

“I am taking every precaution I can. I’m sorry I cannot tell you more.”

Vic nodded and pulled from his grip. When she reached the door, she stopped and turned to him. “Don’t rush your case. It might get you hurt.”

He smiled. “I will be careful, as well.”

She opened the door. “Can I walk you out?”

“It’s better if I leave alone.”

With one last look of worry, she went downstairs.

***

Xavier waited until Vic was in his office and then snuck out the back door. He slowly made his way through alleys, sorting through garbage, until he was certain he’d removed all scent of Vic from his clothes and body. He then worked his way to the docks.

He had just settled into his beggar’s spot across from the New Royal Exchange building when a frightened young boy approached him.

The lad’s fear could be due to Xavier’s face, yet if so, why did the imp not run away? Why did he walk closer, despite his terror?

“What you looking at, boy?” Xavier growled in a drunken slurred voice.

The little mutt didn’t answer, but he stopped his approach.

“Well? What do you want?” Xavier demanded. “Let’s have it!” God, the fellow was as troublesome as his clients were during their initial interviews.

The lad stuck his hand into his pocket. Xavier thought he intended to give him his last pence. He opened his mouth to tell him he didn’t want his money, but all words faded as he stared down the barrel of a gun. A second later, a loud explosion sounded followed by a lead bullet ripping into his chest, slamming him to the sidewalk.

His last thoughts were of Victor and his broken promise to keep himself safe.

Vic, I’m so sorry to leave you like this. Please don’t let this destroy you. You have so much to live for! You must go on.

Chapter 2

Vic was not at her best when Mr. Robinson arrived for his nine o’clock appointment. While she had told Xavier about Davy’s fears of his death, she’d failed to mention she’d her own trepidations. All week, a cloud of darkness had hung over her, convincing her something terrible had happened to her beloved. And even though his brief and heavy-handed visit assured her he was alive and well, she could not shake the foreboding of doom still weighing upon her.

She led Mr. Robinson into Xavier’s office and showed him to his seat. “May I offer you tea…or perhaps something stronger?” She added the latter as the frantic man wiped his brow with his handkerchief.

He nodded and tucked away the cloth. “A touch of whiskey if you have it.”

Vic poured Mr. Robinson an inch of Xavier’s best whiskey. Xavier never shared his whiskey with clients. She considered this payback for the hell he had put her through—still put her through—with his secret government work.

He had once declared he would not being do any further work with them, but within a month of his absence, the First Minister himself came to rally Xavier to return. For the safety of his country, he did, and Vic could not fault him. She only wished they would allow her to assist him, but the First Minister stood firm on the matter.

She handed Mr. Robinson his drink and resumed her seat. Retrieving her pen and paper, she looked at him. “You said you have lost your servant?”

The man nodded and then stared at her. “I’m sorry. I did not realize you were Mr. Holmes. I thought you a secretary when I arrived yesterday.”

She rather wished Xavier was here. He hated when customers called him the fictional character, Sherlock Holmes. “Mr. Thorn is presently out of the office, working another case. However, I am his partner and conduct all initial interviews.”

“Perhaps we should wait…”

Vic sighed. Clients proved reluctant to tell their darkest secrets to a young man unless a grumpy older man named Xavier Thorn sat in the room and glared out the window. Oddly, when he was here, the clients always preferred to talk to her.

“You can do that, sir, but I will still be the person interviewing you. The only difference will be that your bill will include charges not just for my time, but Xavier’s as well, if he attends the meeting.” She paused. “I am well-qualified. Following an education in the Sciences at Oxford, I trained under Mr. Thorn for a year before he made me his partner.”

“Oxford… most impressive. Everyone said Mr. ...Thorn is the best, so I suppose he would hire the best. A partner, you say?”

Vic nodded.

“Very well. As I told you when I made the appointment, I lost my servant and I want you to find and bring her home.” His eyes grew glassy before he studied his hands.

“Please tell me all you know about this servant.”

Mr. Robinson smiled and dabbed his tears away. “That would take years…so let me tell you the basics. Her name is Mary Campbell. She is eighteen, but looks younger. She is very petite, and has the cutest dimples.”

“How long has she been in your service?”

“She was born in my house. I have known her all her life.”

By the tenderness in his voice, Vic was certain he had loved her all of her life. “And when did she go missing?”

His lips quivered. “Yesterday morning.”

Vic frowned. He had made the appointment yesterday morning. “And what makes you believe she was abducted?”

His eyes rounded in panic. “Abducted? No…that can’t be. She’s just lost. I’m sure of it. She must have left the house for some reason and couldn’t find her way back.”

Vic lacked her normal patience and rather wished Xavier was here so he could yell at the man. Instead, she took a deep breath, soothed her temper and tried again. “Tell me what happened yesterday?”

“There’s nothing to tell. I came downstairs for breakfast and another girl served my tea. I called in my butler, Jonston and asked him if Mary was sick and he said she had left. When I asked to where, he said he didn’t know.”

She was glad Xavier wasn’t here, because he’d be gloating. “Did you ask your wife if she had fired the girl?”

Mr. Robinson’s eyes rounded and he licked his lips. “Wife? I don’t have a wife.”

Ah, so Xavier wasn’t right. Good. She leaned forward. “Were her belongings still in her room?”

“I don’t know.”

“And your butler told you nothing other than she was gone?”

“That’s all he knew.”

Vic seriously doubted that. “I will need to interview your butler and others on your staff.”

He nodded. “Whatever you need to find Mary.” His words sounded frantic.

“Mr. Robinson, anything you say here is held in complete confidentiality. And to help us find Mary, you need to tell me the absolute truth.” Vic waited for his confession.

“If I knew where she was, I would have brought her home,” he insisted while his head shook like a spaniel shedding water.

Growing weary of his prevarications, she tried another tack. “What is your true relationship with Mary?”

The man turned white as the paper on her pad. “She is a servant in my house.”

“Mr. Robinson…” Vic sighed. “We cannot help if you do not tell us the whole truth.”

He raked both hands through his oil-laden hair as he lowered his face.

“I assure you, any confidences will remain safe with us. But you must decide which is more important: your secret or Mary.”

After a long moment, he took a deep breath and spoke. “She is my daughter.”

“And her mother?”

“She was the housekeeper.”

Pleased with the breakthrough, Vic leaned forward. “Where is this housekeeper now?”

“I don’t know.”

He knew something. She could hear it in his denial. Frustrated, she rubbed her temples. If only Xavier were here to play bad interrogator to her kind interviewer.

“She left after Mary was born.”

Vic waited for more. After a long silence he continued. “She…”

“Name?”

“Angela Campbell. She became angry when I wouldn’t marry her. I couldn’t! She was a servant for God’s sake. So a week after birthing Mary, she left in the middle of the night with all the silverware and some very fine pieces of jewelry from my room.”

“Did you report the theft to the police?”

“No. I couldn’t.”

“Because you loved her?”

“Not at all. She was very beautiful, and most obliging, but not lovable. I am now convinced I couldn’t love her because I sensed the cold calculations going on in her mind. She put on a good show at first, certainly succeeded in seducing me. However, when she realized I wouldn’t marry her, not even for the child, she dropped all pretense of adoration. The woman threatened me with charges of rape, and then with threats she would kill the baby. I told her the police would throw her in prison for false accusations on the first and hang her for the latter. Then she threatened to leave. I told her she was lucky I allowed such an immoral woman to remain in my house, but she could leave, if she thought anyone would hire her in her condition.”

Vic studied his angry face. “Were you bluffing, or did you mean that?”

He frowned. “At the time I meant it. The baby was only an embarrassment to me. When Jonston told me Angela had stolen the silver and run off during the night, I was thankful to rid myself of them both. Then he asked me what to do with the child.” Mr. Robinson sighed. “I told him to get rid of it.”

Vic struggled to hide her shock by focusing on note taking.

“Fortunately, my butler only pays me half a mind. He brought the baby into my library and placed it on top of the book I was reading. He glared at me and said, ‘You made this damn mess. You take care of it.’ Then he stormed from the room.”

A faint smile came to her lips. He sounded like her family’s bossy butler. She looked forward to speaking with him.

Mr. Robinson now had a blissful look on his face. “On my book lay a baby girl wiggling about. I had never seen such a tiny creature before, so small and fragile. I could hold her with one hand. Yet, she was perfect in every other way. She opened her eyes and reached out to me, as if she knew she needed me to protect her.” He burst into tears and covered his face with his handkerchief.

Waiting for the man to get control of himself, Vic once again decided Xavier’s absence was fortunate. He hated when men, even ersatz men, cried. Mr. Robinson’s outburst would have chased him from the room.

“So you raised her?”

He nodded and struggled to control himself.

She thought some ugly truths might sober him up. “As your servant?”

“Yes. I loved her as my daughter, but treated her as a servant.”

“So she worked for you? Slept in the servants’ quarters?”

“Of course,” he said as if any other possibility was inconceivable.

“Did she know you were her father?”

“No!”

“How many of your other servants knew she was your daughter?”

“None!”

Vic sighed. “Your butler knew? Who else?”

Mr. Robinson frowned. “My butler only presumed. I never admitted it.”

Oh, if only Xavier were here to yell at him…

“Who else on your staff was employed when Mary was born?”

Mr. Robinson shook his head. “I have no idea.”

“I’ll find out from your butler,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Why does it matter?”

She thought the reason obvious, but evidently not. “If someone on your staff told Mary you were her father—a father who kept her as a servant in his household—then she very well might have intentionally left your service without notice.”

Mr. Robinson’s mouth fell open as Vic’s terse words sunk in. “Oh, my God! When you say it like that…it sounds …”

“Like the worst of betrayals?” Vic regretted her words because Mr. Robinson turned deathly white as if he might faint from his distress. She refilled his glass with another two inches of Xavier’s fine whiskey—fair payment for making her grumpy and out of patience with the clients. And if her client died from her cruel words, she was going to pour the whole bottle of whiskey down the sink.

She handed Mr. Robinson the drink and knelt before him, taking his wrist in her hand so she could count the pulses. When the beats slowed a bit, she resumed her seat.

“I’m sorry I upset you with my comment, but Mary’s knowledge at the time she left is relevant to finding her. That is why I need to interview all your servants to determine if any knew and possibly said something.”

“Of course.”

“Did you treat her differently than the other servants?”

“Jonston could answer that better than I.” He paused and gave the matter some thought. “I thought I showed no preference…” Upon realizing this made his crime against Mary even worse, the man pressed his handkerchief to his forehead. “Then you think she ran away?”

“It is certainly one avenue of investigation to pursue.”

“What other possibilities are there?”

“We will search for Angela Campbell and determine if she might be involved.”

His eyes rounded. “Why would she? She had no use for the child.”

“Not for a baby. However, a young woman of eighteen…You said she was petite. Was she beautiful?”

“Yes. But I didn’t love her just for her beauty. I loved her because she was mine.”

Vic inwardly growled. “We will leave no stone unturned, Mr. Robinson. That I promise you.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you have a photograph or painting of Mary?”

Mr. Robinson eye’s rounded as if he thought her mad. “Why would I have pictures taken of my staff?”

She sighed. If Mary ran away, she couldn’t blame the girl. She could not imagine discovering an impartial, uncaring employer was actually her father.

Yet the man wasn’t as disinterested as he portrayed. Now that Mary had disappeared, he clearly wanted her found and returned to him. Unfortunately, he continued to hold his daughter second to his place in society.

Vic gathered a few more facts about the man, such as age (52), religion (Church of England), health (fair), and occupation (none) before escorting him to the door. “I will be by later this afternoon to interview your household.”

“Will Mr. Thorn come as well?”

“No. He tends to terrify the staff unnecessarily.”

Mr. Robinson smiled at her. “You are easy to talk to. I hadn’t intended to tell you half of what I did.”

“Yes, but that half you intended to hide will probably be why we find Mary.”

She noticed Jacko lounging on the bench in the outer office and frowned. Before Mr. Robinson observed the slouching pirate, Davy nudged him to sit up respectably. She hurried Mr. Robinson outside.

Once she closed the door, she turned her attention to Jacko. “I run a respectable office, here. In the future, you and Davy should lounge about in the kitchen when guests are afoot.”

The dashing gypsy with his excessive gold chains, pirate garb, and long curly black hair chuckled in amusement. If she had one complaint about Jacko, it was that he was always laughing at her. At her, not with her.

While Jacko proved impervious to her glares, Davy flinched. “Sorry, Vic. I should have done that. We’ll stay in the kitchen next time. You look out of sorts. Did the meeting not go well?”

“It went fine. Damn idiot says he has lost his maid. I think she just left his service, but I’ll have to interview the servants to be certain.”

Jacko stared at Davy in confusion. “You need my help to find a servant?”

Davy gave a quick shake of the head.

Vic’s eyes narrowed at Davy for dragging in Jacko. Then she smiled at the laughing pirate. “If I said yes, would you leave?”

Davy grabbed hold of Jacko’s arm. “The answer is no. He’s here on my say.”

“I’m the partner…”

“And I have seniority.” Davy jutted out his chin. “And the main partner’s authority to hire Jacko.”

Damn Xavier and his stupid order. “I need some tea.” She looked at Jacko. “If you’ll join me in the kitchen I’ll tell you my plan.”

***

Davy insisted upon making the tea, so she could sit and explain her night’s excursion without distraction. At least, that was the reason he gave for working the stove. She suspected he had yet to forget the small fire she started two months ago.

That fire had not been her fault. Xavier had distracted her with kisses and pulled her into their bedroom. Fortunately, Davy arrived before anything of importance burned. Unfortunately, the small mishap seemed to have seared into his memory. Since then, he usurped her every attempt to use the stove.

She sat down and stared at the handsome pirate. “A friend of my Aunt Maddy’s has been incarcerated in an asylum by her husband for supporting the suffragettes. He claims she has lost her mind, but in truth, she’s only lost patience living with a stupid man.”

Naturally, Jacko laughed.

“This is not funny. How would you like it if I had you locked up for nothing more than your annoying smile? Just because I don’t like you constantly laughing at me, doesn’t give me the right to declare you insane and incarcerate you.”

Jacko lost his smile and nodded. His damn eyes continued to sparkle with amusement, but if she complained about them as well, she’d appear petty.

“Tell him what you’re planning,” Davy grumbled as he tended the stove.

Vic ignored Mr. Busybody and focused on Jacko. “I’ve discovered where Mrs. Carson’s being held. Tonight, I plan to sneak in and get her out.”

Well, at least that killed the amusement in his eyes. Now Jacko looked like a sinister, deadly pirate. “Where is she?”

“A place called Bedlam.”

His eyes darkened and his hands twitched.

“Have you heard of it?”

He nodded.

“Have you ever been in it?”

With narrowed eyes, he glared. “Not because of my laugh. But I have removed people from it before.”

Vic’s heart quickened. “Truly? Then I take it back. I’m very glad Davy called you in.”

“You’re welcome,” Davy muttered as he joined them at the table.

She reached over and covered Davy’s large hand. “Thank you, Davy, for bringing me skilled help.”

“How long has your friend been there?” Jacko asked.

“She’s been missing for two months. It took her daughter awhile to determine she was not on holidays as her husband said.”

Jacko grimaced. “By now she may have really lost her mind. How old is she?”

“In her fifties.”

“Attractive?”

“No.” She wondered at Jacko’s questions. Does he only save young, attractive women?

“Well, she might still be sane, if they’ve left her alone.”

“If who’s left her alone?”

Davy nudged Jacko’s arm. “Vic don’t need to know that.”

Her agitation focused on Davy. “I do if it’s pertinent to my case!”

“It’s not. We just determined that. So let it drop!”

Jacko rubbed his temple. “What exactly is your plan?”

Vic gave him the details. His continual nodding throughout her explanation pleased her. She had thought her plan excellent, and evidently, Jacko agreed. When she finished, Davy faced Jacko with his brow furrowed. “What do you think?”

“It’s a good plan. How’d you get your information?”

Particularly proud of her clever method of gathering facts, she grinned. “I took the gentleman’s midday tour.”

Jacko chuckled. “That was never an option for me. And when they let you into a young woman’s cell, what did you do with your time?”

“I snuck out and checked all the cells in the hall looking for Mrs. Carson. When I couldn’t find her there, I picked a lock and entered another hallway. I found her in Ward 3.”

Jacko leaned forward. “Could she understand you?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Did you tell her you planned to rescue her?”

“Yes.”

“Tonight?”

“I told her soon, I didn’t know at that time which night would be best.”

“But she is expecting rescue?”

“Yes.”

“And you are certain she will remember?”

“Of course, she will remember! She is not feeble-minded. In fact, she’s a very smart woman.”

Jacko’s fingers rapped on the tabletop.

She smiled. The pirate’s fingers always did that when he planned to steal something.

“Your plan is good, Victor, but I can make it better.”

“By all means,” Vic said. This was no time to allow arrogance to come before Mrs. Carson’s life.

“I suggest you take your gentleman’s tour as you planned tonight, but instead of trying to sneak away to steal your friend, unlock all the cells in your assigned ward and rally those women to escape. That will call all the guards to your section, giving me more time to slip in and get your friend out.”

Vic considered this change and then frowned. “No offense, Jacko, but I’m not sure Mrs. Carson will leave with you.”

“Then write me a note saying I’m a good pirate. However, if the woman still has her wits as you claim, she’d walk out with Satan himself, if the offer came.”

Vic doubted that, but ceased to argue. “I’ll write you a note.”

“And give me the address of where I should take her.”

Happy with the improved plan, she wrote out the note and address. As she handed it to him, she paused. Their new plan hinged upon Jacko’s ability to get in and out. “Exactly how will you enter?”

Jacko laughed. “I know a way.”

“And you’ve used it before?”

“Several times.”

“Then how do you know they haven’t discovered their weakness and fixed it? I mean if people keep disappearing out of the place, they have to wonder why?”

“People disappear from Bedlam all the time. The sad truth is no one cares, not the officials and certainly not the guards. They’ll just mark her off as dead.”

“But won’t Mr. Carson ask for the body back for burial?”

Jacko shrugged. “He can ask, but he won’t get it. They sell the bodies for a tidy profit. Between the gentleman’s tours and the sale of dead bodies, the men who run the place have a lucrative business.”

“All the more reason to plug their leaks…”

“I give you my word they have not closed off my way in. If she’s in Ward Three, I can retrieve her—faster and with more certainty than you could.”

Vic nodded. “I trust you.”

Davy frowned. “That’s all fine and dandy, but doesn’t this plan leave Vic in the midst of a room full of mad women and held responsible for letting them out?”

Jacko snorted and grinned. “It does, but I’m sure our young dandy can talk his way out. In fact, they’ll probably escort him to the gates.”

Davy rubbed his thick hands together. “I don’t like it.”

Jacko patted his friend on the back. “The boy will be fine. At worst, they’ll ban him from returning.”

“I got a bad feeling about this,” Davy grumbled.

Chapter 3

Thunderous blows on the front office door interrupted their plotting.

Vic set down her cup of tea. “I have no patience for clients today. Davy will you go down and tell the rude person that our appointment book is filled for the next three months and we cannot take his case.”

Davy rose and hurried to the door.

A few minutes later, she heard a familiar voice demand to speak to Xavier. Before she could go down and intercede, footsteps pounded up the stairs. She met the Chief Inspector of Scotland Yard in the second floor hallway. “Inspector Stone, is something wrong?”

“Is Xavier here?”

She had never seen Stone so out of sorts. Yet, it was not his clothes that were amiss. The black wool suit was as clean and tidy as ever, his white shirt collar remained crisp and well creased. Upon further study, she realized the difference was in his normally stern eyes. Today, those black orbs had a special flare of outrage to them.

“No, I’m sorry. Xavier’s away working a case.”

Stone opened his mouth to reply and then noticed Jacko standing at the door of the small kitchen. His eyes narrowed as he reached into his vest.

Before the inspector could shoot her finely skilled help for the night’s adventure, she stepped in between them. “This is Jacko. He works for us.”

“Jacko…” Stone eased his hand from his vest and turned his attention back to her. “It is critical I speak to Xavier.”

“I’m sorry, Inspector, but I don’t know how to reach him.”

Stone sighed. “I’m also sorry, but I will have to search these premises to verify he isn’t here.”

His declaration both surprised and worried her. His sharp eye would quickly notice her belongings in Xavier’s bedroom. “I don’t think Xavier would approve of that.”

“Well, he can come out now so it isn’t necessary, or complain later.” Stone entered the first door on the right, which as luck would have it, was their bedroom.

Vic followed him inside. Stone checked beneath the bed, in the closet and for some odd reason pulled out the drawers of the dresser. “I don’t think even Xavier could hide in there, sir.” Her comment earned her a severe glare from Stone.

“No, but if the drawers were shortened, he might have a hiding space behind them.”

Vic thought that a clever idea. Perhaps she would hire a craftsman to make her such a dresser. She followed him to Davy’s bedroom, and watched him perform the same search. Finally, he entered the kitchen on the left side of the hall and checked the cabinets and pantry.

Then he sighed with heavy frustration and looked at Vic. “May I speak to you privately?”

She nodded and led him downstairs to Xavier’s office. She offered him a seat, but he chose to pace.

“I need the truth, Victor. Has Xavier been here?”

“Yes. He arrived at six and left at eight this morning.”

“Eight? You are certain?”

A pit of lead formed in her stomach. “Is he still missing from his assignment?” Panic set in. “Something’s happened to him, hasn’t it?” Vic demanded.

“I don’t know. Was he in disguise when he left here?”

“Yes, as a street beggar.”

Stone rubbed his chin.

Vic’s chest tightened in fear. “Is it possible the police picked him up?”

His eyes rounded, as if surprised by her question. “Yes, it is. I’ll check the stations between here and the docks. Thank you, Victor, you have been most helpful.”

Once she saw Inspector Stone to the door, she returned to her office. Now she understood her sense of dread. Poor Xavier had gotten himself carted off to jail for begging in the wrong section of town. She chuckled at the internal battle he must have fought as he endured the humiliation of arrest rather than reveal his true identity.

Gathering a few items into her briefcase, she went in search of Davy and found him polishing the spare bit. “I need you to drive me to Mr. Robinson’s house.”

“Why?” Davy asked.

“Because I asked you to. Really, Davy, just because Xavier gave you permission to hire Jacko doesn’t mean you can challenge my every request.”

***

Despite Mr. Robinson’s instructions to his butler to assist Victor, she sensed Jonston did not relish his assignment. He sat stiff and rigid on the edge of the chair with an expression of stoic suffering.

Victor studied him, wondering how to penetrate his armored shield. She decided to sneak in, using the unreasonable employer card. “How many people work here?”

“Thirty-two in total. Eleven in the gardens, nineteen in the house and two in the auto shed.”

“The what?”

Jonston sniffed as if a foul odor assailed him. “Mr. Robinson has purchased an automobile.”

“Really?”

“Ever since he’d heard the Honorable Evelyn Ellis intended to acquire a Panhard-Levassour, Master Robinson wanted to buy one, as well. A month ago, he purchased the contraption and hired two men to keep it running.”

“Where does he drive it?”

“Wherever there are horses to frighten,” Jonston replied in aggravation. “It’s an ugly thing. A little dogcart with giant wheels. Makes a ghastly noise.”

Victor laughed.

“Neither the car nor the mechanics should concern you. They have only been here a month.”

She sighed heavily. “My employer will expect me to speak to everyone, whether they need to be interviewed or not. He hired me for my brain and then acts as if I’ve lost it. I am not allowed to make the slightest deviation from his procedures.”

Thumping his fingers on his leg, Jonston stared at her for a long moment before standing. “You should probably begin with the house staff.”

She nodded. “Before I do, perhaps you can tell me a bit about Angela Campbell.”

“Who?” he asked as he returned to his chair.

“Angela Campbell…is that not the name of Mary’s mother?”

Jonston stared at her as if she were speaking a foreign language.

“Was she not the housekeeper here?”

“No. Mrs. Bidden has been the housekeeper for thirty-three years now.”

Vic paused to take in his claim. Someone was lying, but deuce if she knew which man it was. “I see. So when did Mary Campbell come here to work?”

Jonston shook his head in bewilderment. “Who?”

Vic frowned. “Mary Campbell, the servant I am expected to find.”

“We do not have a Mary Campbell on staff.”

“Are you certain? Mr. Robinson seems very keen that I find her.”

Jonston sighed and rubbed his temple before he replied. “I’m sorry. I fear you have come for nothing. Mr. Robinson is not…well. Sometimes he believes things which are not true.”

“Oh.” Vic frowned, not because she had come on a wild goose chase, but because the butler’s eyes had darted to the left several times during his proclamation and his hand kept toying with his cravat. Both were signs of deception.

“That is indeed unfortunate. However, I will still need to go through the motions and interview the staff.”

“What good will it do?”

“None. Complete waste of my time. However, Mr. Robinson has already paid for my services and my employer will expect me to fulfill the client’s wishes. I really don’t have a choice.”

“Nor do I.” His foot rapped on the floor in irritation. “Try to keep the interviews short. We are presently understaffed. I cannot afford the servants to be idle long.”

Understaffed! If he wished to see understaffed, he should come to her family house where ten servants managed the house and grounds to perfection. Now certain she had determined which man was the liar, she smiled at Jonston. “I will do my best to keep the interviews short, but I do have a series of questions I must ask.”

“Such as what?”

She pulled out her tablet. “Instead of wasting your time later, I can ask you the questions now, so you will know what they are.”

He nodded his consent.

She acquired his full name, date and place of birth, name of siblings, where he received his training as a butler, how long he had worked for Mr. Robinson. After this particular question, she looked up with concern. “How long has he been having these memory problems?”

“This is the first time,” Jonston replied after a pause.

She nodded and continued her tedious questions of religious affiliations, church attendance, how many days off, and what did he generally do during his free time.

“Is this really necessary?”

Vic sighed. “Not if I returned with pages of information about Mary. However, since Mary does not exist, all these questions are necessary. I have to let my employer see I was thorough. Otherwise, he’ll come out here and perform the interviews again.”

That idea appeared to alarm Jonston. “I see. Well, ask your questions, and be done with it.”

“Thank you. Ummm… you never answered the last question about what you do on your two days off.”

“I visit friends.”

“And their names?”

His eyes flared with fury. “You want their names?”

Victor grimaced at his outrage. “My employer is very exact.”

“Well, tell him I refused to answer.”

“Then he’ll come here and redo the interviews.”

“Damnation!” Jonston’s fingers drummed on his leg.

In all her life, Vic had never heard a butler curse before, not even Gregory. She recalled Mr. Robinson saying Jonston had dumped the baby on his book and told him to fix his own damn mess. She had initially thought it an exaggeration, but now she could well believe such declarations from this man.

Vic’s pencil remained poised for his answer. Finally, the man calmed and answered. “I go to a private club to escape the aggravations of my job.”

“I understand that,” Vic muttered. “The name of the club?

He paused before replying, “Beddingsome.”

“Thank you,” Vic replied. Having never heard of it, she tested his temper with another question. “Where exactly is the club located?”

“Why do you need to know?”

“My employer‒”

“It’s near Wapping Basin on Nightingdale Lane. Perhaps you should stop by and question the other patrons.”

“Where is Wapping Basin?”

Jonston’s hands clenched in agitated fists. “In the London Docks. Now if you are through wasting my time providing you geography lessons, I would like to put this nonsense to rest.”

She nodded. “Well, send in the staff.”

Jonston remained in the room during the interviews with the nervous cook and worried housekeeper. However, her consistent and tedious questions finally drove him away.

When the pretty maid entered, Vic smiled. This girl looked to be of an age to have been friends with the non-existent Mary. When Sara first sat, terror filled her eyes. However, Vic’s innocuous questions soon settled the girl.

“And what religion are you, Sara?”

“I’m Protestant,” she replied.

“So am I. Which church do you attend?”

She smiled. “The one on Welsh Ave. Where do you go?”

Vic grimaced. “To be honest, I haven’t attended for a while. My job keeps me busy.”

“Even on the Sabbath?” The girl’s eyes rounded in shock.

“God may rest, but criminals do not.”

“Why do you not take a different job?”

“Well, the work is interesting and it pays well.” Vic could tell Sara was sizing up the young man before her for marriage material. Poor girl would be most unhappy if she succeeded. “So did Mary go with you to church?”

“No, she’s…” Sara stopped and covered her mouth as her eyes filled with fear.

“Someone else told me about Mary. You are not to blame,” Vic assured her.

Sara leaned in and whispered. “Mr. Jonston said he’d punish anyone who mentioned her name.”

“Well, I have no intention of telling him anything. However, if I knew a bit more about this friend we won’t name, I might be able to ensure she is safe and well.”

Sara grabbed hold of Vic’s arm. “Would you? I’ve been so worried about her.”

“When did she go missing?”

“Sometime late Wednesday, after she attended the gentlemen.”

“When you say ‘attend,’ exactly what do you mean?”

Sara blushed and bit her bottom lip. “Waited on them. The master frequently entertains.”

“Tell me what happened.” To provide a sense of security, Vic took her hand.

Sara verified they were alone and whispered, “I overheard the cook say the master was her father.”

“And did you tell her?”

Sara nodded. “If he knew, he’d fire me…or worse!”

“Why?”

“Because I caused this! Mary confronted Mr. Jonston and called him a liar of the worst kind.”

“The butler? Why was she angry at him?”

“Because he had led her to believe he was her father. All these years, she’s endured the abuse because she thought it was her duty as a daughter.”

“What type of abuse?”

The maid would no longer look Vic in the eyes.

“Sara, is he abusing you, as well?”

She shook her head, but the tears streaming down her cheeks and raining upon her clasped hands said otherwise.

“Will you not trust me with the truth? I cannot help you unless you do.”

She tightened her grip on Vic’s hand. “No one can save me. If I try to leave, Mr. Jonston says he’ll let it be known I’ve lost my virtue.”

Vic sighed. “If I can find you another place to work‒”

“They would not want me once they know. Mr. Jonston would tell them.”

“That’s not true. I can find you a place where they will judge you solely on your work. The theft of your virtue will not matter.”

Her hand tightened on Vic’s. “This is too important to tease me with promises you cannot keep.”

“It’s not a tease. If you want to leave here, I will find you work in a proper house with kind people.”

Jonston suddenly entered the room and took note of Sara’s hand grasping Victor’s. His eyes narrowed.

Victor stood. “Thank you for your time, Miss.” She waited until Sara left to speak to Jonston. “Sorry, she was just so pretty…can’t blame a fellow for a bit of a flirt.”

Jonston growled beneath his breath and ordered in the next maid. She was uncommonly pretty as well. As was the one following. Out of the housing staff of nineteen, fifteen were young pretty girls, all requiring rescue in Vic’s opinion. From one named Laura, she learned the girls requiring punishment spent their days off at the docks, in a filthy room where ‘unspeakable things’ happened.

Vic expected her interviews of the eleven garden staff to be a waste of time, until she noticed the young men were decidedly good looking and flirting with her male persona.

She was no closer to finding Mary, but she had determined Mr. Jonston ran a bordello in the posh West End of London. The only question remaining was whether Mr. Robinson was a participant or just a fool.

She had almost forgotten about the car, until she was leaving the house and noticed the men washing the strange boxy vehicle. She walked over and complimented the car.

“Has a Daimler engine, does it not?” she asked.

The youngest mechanic smiled. “That she does. So you know about engines do you?”

Vic introduced herself, explaining Mr. Robinson had hired her to find Mary.

The older man snorted. “You want to find Mary, then follow the sorry bastard.”

Vic decided to guess who the sorry bastard might be. “You think Jonston has her?”

The man nodded.

“But why take her. I mean he has a whole houseful.”

“And gardenful if your taste bends that way. He’s always taking them away. Sometimes they return, looking worse for the wear, and other times they don’t and he hires a new one to fill the spot. Those poor creatures live in fear of him.”

“But you don’t.”

The older man snorted. “We report directly to Mr. Robinson. That bastard tried to alter our agreement, but we told Robinson we’d quit before we’d work under the butler. Then he tried to blackmail us into giving him half our salary, saying the girls would swear we raped them. I told him to call in the police and see who ended up arrested.”

The younger guy laughed at the memory and then frowned. “Trouble coming.”

Vic turned to see Mr. Jonston storming their way.

“You men stop lazing about. Mr. Robinson wants his car readied!” He then glared at Vic. “I thought you’d left.”

“I saw the car and had to take a look.” Vic gave her best look of failure. “I apologize for disrupting your day, Mr. Jonston.”

“Wait,” Jonston demanded and yanked the pad from Victor’s hand. He flipped through her notes, finding only the answers to her tedious questions. “Hopefully, this puts an end to the matter.”

“I hope for an end, as well,” Vic assured him. “But my employer is away just now, so our official conclusion may take a while. However, I don’t expect to interrupt your days any further.”

Satisfied, he returned Vic’s pad and ordered her off.

***

Vic sighed in exhaustion as she collapsed into her carriage. Why couldn’t this case be a simple lost servant? She needed Xavier to deal with this nasty business.

She gnawed her lower lip with worry.

Xavier needed to get back to his job and back in her bed. Where was he? Had Stone found him locked in a jail cell for loitering?

The thought of him stuck in cell with criminals made her smile, but only for a second. She couldn’t shake her sense of dread that something bad had happened.

Calling for Davy to stop the carriage, she climbed out and joined him on his driver’s bench.

Davy frowned. “I’m not teaching you to drive. This is my job.”

“Well, you probably should teach me sometime, but I won’t insist upon it today.”

Davy still looked mistrustful. “Then why are you up here.”

“I thought perhaps we could test out Xavier’s threat to hire a blind driver. You can close your eyes and I’ll tell you what to do.” Vic was teasing, but she could tell Davy was in no mood for fun and games. “Am I really such a terrible boss, Davy? You’ve been in a dreadful funk.”

“I’ve been under a cloud of doom since Xavier went off,” Davy grumbled. “And yes, clouds of doom do put me off my feed.”

She ignored his sarcasm. “I’ve felt the same. Like something terrible is going to happen.”

“Then will you call it off?”

“I would if I could. However, Xavier is a stubborn man. If there’s a case, he’s going to solve it come hell or high water.”

Davy sighed in exasperation. “I was talking about you and tonight’s plans.”

His request appalled and disappointed her. “I can’t call it off. Poor Mrs. Carson would never forgive me. However, I am glad you brought Jacko in. Had you told me he was familiar with stealing people from the place, I wouldn’t have resisted his inclusion.”

Davy made a loud ‘humpf’ and focused on the crowded street.

“Where’s Jacko now?”

“Watching the office.”

“Jacko?” she exclaimed. “You left Jacko in the office? What if someone comes wishing to schedule an appointment?”

“I’m sure he can figure out the appointment book.”

“But he’ll look like a pirate figuring out the appointment book. That is hardly the image we want to present.”

Davy yelled at some poor fellow, laden with boxes. “Get out of the bloody street!” He snapped the reins of the horse and returned his ill temper towards her. “Well, maybe we should hire a secretary. Someone who actually is a young gentleman and will stay in the office like he belongs!”

Vic knew he was just trying to scare her back into the office, but his suggestion had merit. She thought of several of the young men she had interviewed at Mr. Robinson’s. “That’s not a bad idea, Davy. We could use someone to watch over the office and take appointments. I’d keep the rest of the responsibilities, but it does look bad when a potential client arrives and finds our office locked up.” She grimaced. “Or worse, finds a pirate inside.”

Davy yelled at the driver of a wagon in front of him to pick up the speed. The driver retaliated by slowing his horse to a crawl.

“Can we swing by Wapping Basin?”

Davy’s eyebrows rose in horror. “Swing by? It’s an hour away!”

“That long?”

“In this traffic, possibly longer.”

“Have you ever heard of place called Beddingsome?”

By Davy’s frown, she suspected he had and he didn’t approve of it.

“What are you up to now, Vic?”

“Mr. Robinson’s butler says he goes there on his free days and suggested I check it out.”

“Did you piss him off?”

His question surprised her. “How did you know?”

“Because if you walked into Beddingsome, you’d have a devil of a time walking out—at least alive.”

She laughed at Davy’s conflicting words. “Well, if I’m dead, I doubt I’d be walking anywhere.”

Davy cursed beneath his breath and slapped his horse into a trot directly into oncoming traffic.

Grabbing hold of the seat-board, Vic closed her eyes, and braced for a crash. She heard several drivers cursing at them, but by the time she opened her eyes, Davy had passed the slow driver and now moved at a brisk pace.

“Maybe I’ll find someone else to teach me to drive,” she muttered beneath her breath.

Chapter 4

Stone waited until Victor left before returning to Xavier’s office. He entered to discover Jacko leaning back in a chair with his feet on the secretary’s desk.

The gypsy opened his eyes while one corner of his mouth turned up. “He’s still not here, Inspector. Vic told you the truth.”

“I believed him. I’m here to talk to you.”

That stole his smirk. “Whatever you wish to put at my feet, I didn’t do. I’ve been a damn saint this last year.”

Jacko’s claim sounded like a disgruntled complaint to Stone’s ears. “Since I believe you’ve been in Xavier’s employment, I seriously doubt you are in danger of sainthood.”

His eyes darkened. “As close as I ‘spect to get.”

Stone sat down on the other side of the desk.

Jacko resumed his pose of relaxation. “Do you want to make an appointment?”

“No. I want to ask for a favor.”

That at least got the gypsy’s attention. He removed his feet from the desk and leaned forward. “I wasn’t aware I owed you a favor.”

Stone’s hand rubbed his chin, wishing for once, Xavier’s staff wasn’t as difficult as the man in charge. “You don’t. This will leave me in your debt.”

Jacko’s fingers curled and uncurled. “I’m listening.”

“Xavier is missing. I sent men to the jails and he is not there. Neither is he here, nor at his post. We have lost him.”

With a heavy sigh, the pirate said, “I will find him.”

“No. We have men enough searching. My concern is Victor. Once the boy discovers Xavier is missing, he will begin his own search, which could likely get him killed. I need you to stop him from doing so. Barring that, I need you to keep him safe while he searches.”

Jacko’s fingers resumed their rippling motion. “Can you tell me anything about Xavier’s assignment?”

“No.”

“Any clues where to look?”

“No! I don’t want you looking. I want you to keep Victor away from this. I realized upon searching Xavier’s room today, that he and Victor are closer than I previously knew.” Stone had noticed Vic’s stylish suits in Xavier’s closets and his wide collared shirts in the dresser. And while homosexuality was against the law, he was more than willing to turn a blind eye in this situation. The country needed Xavier far more than adherence to shifting moralities.

When Jacko gave no reaction to his comment, Stone continued. “Xavier has pulled out of worse scrapes. I have faith he’ll survive this one, as well. However, he’ll never recover if he loses Victor during this disaster.”

Jacko covered his face with his hands for a brief moment before meeting Stone’s eyes. “I can only promise you the following: When Vic finds out Xavier is in trouble, I will encourage him to keep you apprised of his intentions. And whatever plan Vic devises, I will try and ensure I take the riskiest role. Vic is not a young dandy willing to sit on the sidelines and let others protect him. However, he does let logic rule over his emotions. If he believes I’m the best skilled person, he will let me do the job.”

Stone was not pleased with the fellow’s promise. “But what if you aren’t?”

“Then Vic will do it.”

Stone cringed at the thought. He would have a devil of a time explaining to the First Minister how he allowed Xavier’s apprentice to become involved in their investigation.

***

Jacko paced the room like a caged cat as he waited for Vic and Davy to return. The Inspector was a fool if he thought he’d sit around, doing nothing to save his friend. Xavier Thorn was one of the few men who had ever looked beyond his gypsy heritage and given him a chance to prove himself. When Jacko returned from America, brokenhearted and rich, Xavier gave him good advice on both situations. More importantly, he gave him a job that kept him out of trouble, even as he returned to his gypsy ways.

He opened the door the moment he heard the carriage drive up. He frowned upon the sight of Victor seated beside Davy on the driver’s bench and the poor fellow looking like a man headed to the gallows.

Vic climbed down and entered the office first. “Did any clients come?”

He decided Stone didn’t count. “No.”

“Thank God! I need a cup of tea. Would you like one?”

He hated the stuff. “I’d prefer strong coffee and perhaps some of Xavier’s brandy to go along.”

“How about whiskey? He has a very fine bottle opened. Help yourself and I’ll start coffee for you and tea for me.”

“I’ll do it,” Davy grumbled. “Jacko, maybe you can see to the horse?”

Jacko rolled his eyes as he walked outside. Why Davy doubted Vic’s ability to boil water, he had no idea. Vic was an impressive young woman pretending to be an impressive young man. She was certainly capable of making coffee.

After giving the horse water and feed, he brushed down its coat. Stone was right about one point. Xavier would not recover if something happened to Vic. Even if Xavier lived a hundred years, he would never get over the loss. Jacko knew this first hand. For the rest of his life a piece of his heart would belong to Lady Anne.

Every day he endured the pain of losing her, and truthfully, she had never been his to lose. He could only imagine the joy of finding and loving, with requited emotions, the perfect woman.

If Jacko didn’t have a keen sense of smell enabling him to differentiate between male and female, he would have never guessed Vic wasn’t the young man she played to perfection.

Fate had brought the ideal woman into Xavier’s life—a life with no room for a wife, but ample space for a brilliant young partner. If only Fate had found Jacko such a woman before he lost his heart to Lady Anne. He closed his eyes in pain as he recalled Anne’s beautiful face. She was a grand lady and he a detestable thieving gypsy. He could not have chosen a love more destined to fail.

Finished with the task, he returned inside and sought out Xavier’s fine bottle of whiskey. Finding it was easy. The bottle had recently been opened. All he had to do was follow his nose.

He poured two fingers in the glass and sat down in Xavier’s chair to enjoy his drink. Vic arrived with his coffee and set it on the other side of the desk. She then glared, clearly waiting for him to move out of her seat.

She was a bossy fellow—a fair match for Xavier. He rose and moved to the less comfortable chair.

Vic took over Xavier’s chair, pulled out her notes from her interview, and pounded away on the typewriter. He watched her with fascination. “Do all Oxford students learn to type now?”

“No,” she replied and continued typing.

Jacko hadn’t thought so. Xavier said it was a bear to master, and bloody hard on the fingers. He couldn’t imagine rich, young men bothering. Much easier to hire a secretary.

He laughed at her intense expression. She was such a fierce young man, so determined to be in control. She would have made a terrible woman—very wise of whoever decided to let her become a boy. The world was a better place with Victor as a man.

His thoughts sobered. She’d be an angry young man if she discovered he knew Xavier was in danger and failed to tell her. “Is this friend we are stealing tonight very important to you?”

Vic stopped typing and faced him. “Yes. I am sorry she is not young and beautiful, but she is a very fine woman and we will save her. Aunt Maddy would never forgive me if I abandoned a fellow suffragette.”

“So this should be our top priority?”

“Yes!” she yelled, apparently losing patience with his questions.

He covered his smile behind the cup of coffee. God, she was so like Xavier. “Then may I suggest that you go home and rest up for tonight?”

She paused and then nodded. “That’s a good idea. You should do the same. We’ll close up early today.”

Jacko rose to leave.

“Before you go…Are you familiar with the London Docks, specifically Wapping Basin?”

“Dangerous area, what do you want to know?”

“Can you tell me about the Beddingsome Club?”

The question worried him. “It’s a place where the not-so-gentrified can have a taste of sweet young ladies, or boys, depending upon their preference, who appear to be the real thing.”

“What do you mean ‘the real thing’?”

“Well, their owners will claim the girls are young ladies snatched from the streets, but most are ladies’ maids. However, they play the part well enough that I never minded.”

Vic frowned. “You go there?”

“Not recently, but when I used to be in the neighborhood and needed a bit of release, I found it amusing enough.”

Her fingers rapped angrily on the table. “You find it amusing to force young women against their will?”

Slamming down his cup, he stood. “I assure you the ladies I purchased enjoyed their evening as much as I did.” He turned to leave, but paused at the door, remembering his obligations to Xavier.

“Vic, if you have a case that requires going to Beddingsome, you should let me go. While the women I purchased were willing, they also sell the genuine, yet unwilling, which wander into their traps.” His eyes met hers.

“In that part of town, the lowly born are wolves and gentry are sheep. There are men who would pay a fortune to enjoy you to your death. If you need something done in the London docks, I will do it.”

Vic rubbed her temples. “Mr. Robinson’s butler suggested I go there.”

“Does he want you dead?”

“Yes, I think that would suit him well.” She pushed her chair back and rose. “However, I’m inclined to have him imprisoned once I figure out all he has done and find sufficient evidence for Inspector Stone.”

Jacko chuckled at her hearty confidence. “Well, my money is on you, Victor.”

Chapter 5

When Vic entered her family mansion, her sister’s laughter echoed from the parlor. Odd, since Claire and her manservant Jonas usually played their love-games in the garden.

Not wishing to interrupt them, she headed to the kitchen to let the cook know she would eat at home tonight. As she reached the kitchen door, she heard her butler, Gregory, lecturing someone. She stopped. If he was in the mood to scold, she wanted to avoid him at all costs. She was a virtual lightening rod for his lectures.

Ever since Vic arrived in London at the age of twelve and convinced her aunt to let her become a boy, Gregory had taken up the task of making her a fine gentleman. Without his assistance, she would not have her current exciting life. She’d just be a strange woman who refused to wear skirts. Still, she could do without her butler’s constant harpings. Her illusion was perfected and her manners far superior to Xavier’s. What more could he want of her?

When Claire’s name popped up in the fulmination, she stayed to eavesdrop. Since her sister never did anything wrong in Gregory’s eyes, she was dying to hear about Claire’s misstep.

Gregory spoke with his authority-of-God voice. “You will weather this setback with dignity and silent sufferance. Claire is an extraordinarily intelligent young woman. Her attraction to other men of learning is natural. Just because she enjoys their intellectual company does not mean she has tossed you aside, Jonas.”

“I would be fine if she only wished to discuss science, but she is laughing and flirting with them. Why would she do that if she were not tired of me?”

Vic could hear the grief in Jonas’ voice and sympathized. Her sister was a terrible flirt. Vic still remembered when Claire had once set her charms on Xavier. He had responded to her sister’s flirtations, but only to make Vic jealous, which he succeeded beyond expectations. Those weeks of torment and hell only ended when Vic capitulated and admitted she loved him.

“And were you tired of Claire when you kissed that silly maid?” Gregory demanded.

“That was over five years ago, before Claire was even certain she loved me.”

“Yet, you knew even then that you loved her.”

“I did and I still do. I cannot live without her. If she rejects me, I will jump off the London Tower and end my life.”

“Stop talking nonsense,” Gregory scolded. “Do you remember why you kissed the maid?”

“Because I was sixteen and she was willing.”

“Because she offered you something Claire was not yet ready to give. Now the tables are turned. These men offer Claire something you cannot.”

“Money, social status…”

“She doesn’t care about either of those. They offer her intellectual conversation. If you are truly concerned about losing her over this, then I suggest you expand your idle brain. If you asked, I am certain Claire would teach you everything she knows. However, if you do not do this soon, then I fear you will never have the chance to repair this breach again. If that happens, you will have to satisfy yourself with a secondary position in Claire’s life.”

“I am in hell,” Jonas bemoaned.

“Well, pick up a book and find your way out,” Gregory snapped and opened the kitchen door before Vic could disappear.

Naturally, he assumed the worst. “My God, must you pick up every bad habit Mr. Thorn possesses? We were having a private conversation.”

“I’m sorry. I was just coming in to tell the cook I’ll be home for dinner.”

“There’s enough for an army,” Jonas said from kitchen. “Claire is entertaining her gentlemen friends.”

Vic entered and sat beside Jonas on the kitchen bench. “I heard. I’m sorry. My sister is an incurable flirt. However, despite this annoying habit, she is loyal. She won’t leave you for a gentleman, no matter how smart he is. She knows after the wedding, her ‘master’ would order her from her basement lab, and insist she knit antimacassars.”

Jonas smiled at the thought.

“The men only indulge her whims presently because someone put about a rumor she has a large dowry.”

“Have you discovered the source?”

“No.”

He glared at her.

“Locating the origin of a rumor is far more difficult than you’d imagine, especially since it has spread through a group of people whom I purposely avoid. And to be blunt, I have more important cases on my plate just now.”

Jonas cringed from the scolding and escaped the bench they shared. The cook gave him a much needed hug before she asked him if she could help in anyway.

Having just solved a case of a cook who poisoned unwanted suitors of her mistress, Vic spoke up. “You may pat his head all you wish, Mrs. Yarrows. However, you may not doctor our food. If you do, I’ll have to turn you over to Inspector Stone.”

The cook’s mouth fell open in outrage.

Gregory slapped Vic across the back of her head. “Out of the kitchen,” he bellowed. “And before you sit down at the table tonight, I expect you to apologize for that astoundingly rude remark.”

Vic ran from the room and to the entry hall.

Claire came out to investigate the uproar with her suitors in tow. She wore the latest fashion of a dark purple dinner dress with yellow trim. The tailored cut of the bodice highlighted her impossibly small waist. Blonde curls fringed her face, giving her the appearance of a small angel with a perky nose‒all too ripe for seduction.

Vic slicked back her short blonde hair and studied the three young men. Well, two were young. The other had been young—about twenty years ago.

“Vic, what did you do?” Claire asked.

“I didn’t do anything. I simply warned our cook not to poison our guests.”

That knocked the three smirking suitors off their game.

“Why would you even say that? I hope you apologized at once. Mrs. Yarrows is an excellent cook, and neither I nor Gregory will forgive you if she quits over this.”

“I didn’t mean to insult her.”

“Not insult? Victor! How would you feel if someone said, ‘I hope you have not spread your clients’ secrets all over town’?”

“I would never do such a thing, so they would not say it.”

One of the younger suitors laughed. “And you’re supposed to be a genius?”

Vic glared at him until the fellow lost his smirk. Then she returned to the kitchen. “Mrs. Yarrows, I heartily apologize. If you want to poison these suitors, I will do everything in my power to see you are not caught and hung.”

Returning to Claire, she said, “I’ve apologized. I see the error in my thinking.”

Claire kissed Vic’s cheek. “I am glad. Mrs. Yarrows is making us a very special dinner tonight.”

***

As Vic sat in the parlor, her dislike of the men intensified, especially for the elder fellow, Mr. Simon.

“Are you familiar with the philosophy of the Utilitarians?” he asked Claire as he sat much too close to her on the settee.

Before Claire could reply, he continued. “Do not be shamed by your ignorance, you are still young. I am most willing to enlighten someone so eager to learn.” His eyebrows rose provocatively.

He leaned closer to her, his arm stretching across the back of the settee. “The Utilitarians quest is for greater happiness. In order to truly understand and embrace life, a person must first experience every aspect of living, including all its pleasures and vices.”

A rosy hue colored Claire’s cheeks.

“Does that include murder?” Vic asked.

The man paused and glared at Vic. “You seem to have a penchant for the macabre.” He then returned his attention to Claire. “I was thinking of more delectable experiences that can culminate into effervescent nirvana. Only those who taste the nectars of the gods, can truly judge what is right and wrong. Only then can you find the ultimate rapture.”

As Vic watched this disgusting display of flirtation, pontification, and pretentious behavior, she realized the cook might need a further clarification.

Excusing herself, she returned to the kitchen. “Mrs. Yarrows, if you do plan to poison these hideous young men, can we devise a signal so I’ll know what Claire and I shouldn’t eat.”

Jonas grabbed her by the arm. “I appreciate the thought, Vic, but you need to leave now, and not come back. Else Gregory is going to kill you when Mrs. Yarrows leaves.”

Vic looked at the cook’s rigid back as she slammed pots about the stove. “I didn’t mean to insult you, Mrs. Yarrows. I understand your desire to get rid of these men. They are pretentious, obnoxious, arrogant, self-centered—”

Gregory walked in during the last sentence. “Add insensitive to your list of faults and you may go.”

Vic was about to explain she was talking about the suitors, but Jonas pulled her from the room and begged, “Please go back to the parlor and torment them instead!”

Vic could see the desperation in Jonas’ eyes. “I’ll do the best I can. However, after dinner, I have to leave. So if they aren’t sick from the food, you are on your own.”

***

After the annoying guests barely touched their appetizers, Vic realized she couldn’t depend on the food to get rid of the vermin. She had to find another way. Looking for a weak point, she focused in on the cretin who had questioned her intelligence. “So what is your field of study?”

All three men stared at her in astonishment.

“Vic! Mr. Simons was talking. Could you not wait and ask your question when he was done?”

“Mr. Simons has been ‘talking’ for the last half-hour. I thought it time for a change of topic. I am your guardian, Claire. I have a right to interrogate the men you bring home.”

That comment resulted in Gregory clearing his throat and giving Vic a frighteningly stern glare. At times like this, she wished for a normal butler.

Claire smiled at her guests. “I must apologize for my brother…”

“Don’t apologize for me. If an apology is warranted, I can rise to the task.” Vic then focused onto the young man who had been rude to her. “Now, where did you study?”

“Oxford,” the young man replied with a haughty tone.

“Odd, I don’t recall you.”

The snooty fellow arched his brows. “Oh, did they let you in? How on earth did that happen?”

Predictably, Claire rose to Vic’s defense. “My brother was an excellent student—top of his class. Had he continued, he would have become a formidable scientist.”

The older gentleman, Mr. Simons, seemed intrigued. “Exactly why did you leave Oxford, Mr. Hamilton?”

Vic was greatly pleased with his question. She had been wondering how she’d work around to this very conversation. “When our aunt died, I had to leave school and take employment to keep us fed and clothed.”

Mr. Simon’s expression darkened. “You’ve taken employment?”

“Yes, that’s what rational people do when they need to pay bills. Aunt Maddy raised us to be sensible if nothing else.”

“But surely you had sufficient money to continue your education and…” he glanced at Claire, “and ensure your sister’s dowry.”

“Not a shilling. I thought we might have to sell our home and move into some tidy cottage before I obtained a well-paying job working with Xavier Thorn.”

Mr. Simon’s frown deepened. “Xavier Thorn?”

“The finest sleuth in the country. I’ve learned so much under his tutelage. For example, I can easily discover the financial state and dirty secrets of any gentleman who might wish to marry my sister.”

Vic’s declaration was more successful than she’d hoped. All three men recalled test tubes or papers requiring their immediate attention. When Jonas stepped out with the main course, only Vic and Claire remained at the table.

Jonas set down the food and looked first at Claire and then Victor.

Vic smiled with great satisfaction. “The vermin have left the house.”

Claire rose and faced Vic. Tears welled in her eyes. “Not all of them. One vile creature remains.” She then ran from the room and Jonas abandoned his duties and ran after her.

Gregory sighed heavily and cleared the table.

Vic tried to retrieve her plate. “I’m still hungry.”

Gregory harrumphed. “And you may remain so.”

“Why am I being punished? I simply proved them to be pecuniary gold diggers.”

“At what cost, Victor?” Gregory demanded and carried the plates to the kitchen.

Vic followed, determined to reclaim her food. She had a long night ahead of her. She needed sustenance.

Upon entering the kitchen, she heard Mrs. Yarrows give her notice to Gregory.

“I quit, I do. He told them I’d poisoned the food, ruined my good name. I will not endure this a moment more!”

Food could wait.

Vic retreated to her room and threw herself on the bed. God, if only Xavier were here to hold her. He would appreciate her cleverness at getting rid of the men before Claire could form an attachment.

Claire’s tears came to mind. Had she acted too late? Was her sister already in love with the dreadful Mr. Simon who talked on and on about his philosophy of life until Vic feared she’d fall into utilitarian madness?

She hoped her sibling had better sense than to be taken in with such drivel. All that nonsense about striving for ‘greater happiness’ tempted her to invite the fellow to share his philosophy with the criminal element and discover their ‘happiness’ to strip him of his money, clothes, and dignity.

His insistence that everyone must try the hedonistic pleasures of life before gaining the right to judge right and wrong was especially worrisome. Claire had seemed far too interested in that particular discussion.

A soft knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts. She sat up and called, “Enter.”

Jonas came in with a plate of crepes in a delicate white wine sauce.

At least someone appreciated her fine work tonight.  “How’s Claire?”

He walked over to her small table, swept a tablecloth upon it with one hand, and set her plate down. “She’s fine. She’s still mad at you, but I am to learn chemistry so she will have a person to talk and work with.”

“I think that is a swell idea. You will make a much better conversation partner.”

“Do you really think so?” Jonas looked up with concern and stepped back from the table.

Vic took her seat and attacked the food while she continued their conversation. “Without question. Not only do I think you innately smarter, but you also understand a conversation requires two people speaking. Those pontificating vermin never once allowed Claire to make a single observation.”

Jonas smiled for a moment, but then it faded. “I appreciate your effective removal of the vermin. I just wish it hadn’t put you in such hot water with Gregory and Claire.”

“Claire will forgive me by tomorrow.”

“She’s very angry.”

“Why? I did her a favor!”

“She is very fond of Mrs. Yarrows.”

“The cook? She’s angry about the cook?”

“When I told her I wanted to learn chemistry, she forgave you for frightening away her suitors, but when she learned Mrs. Yarrows had given her notice, she declared she’d never speak to you again.”

Vic stopped eating the delicious food. To be honest, she’d miss the woman, as well. “Is the cook still here?”

“She’s in her room packing. She says she’s leaving tonight.”

Vic looked longingly at the food. She wished she had time to eat before talking to the cook, but she feared she only had minutes to intervene.

“I suppose I should try to talk her out of leaving.”

Jonas nodded but grabbed Vic’s arm. “Be careful, she has her butcher knives.”

***

Vic knocked on the cook’s door. She could hear banging inside, but no call to enter. Taking in a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped inside.

The cook looked up and shook her head in dismay. “Your Aunt Maddy would be ashamed of how you’ve turned out! Accusing good people of poisoning the food, and telling the guests your hateful lies so they won’t eat a bite.”

“I’m truly sorry, Mrs. Yarrows. I was so appalled with Claire’s suitors that I lost my head. I suggested poisoned food to drive them away, not to impugn your reputation. I should not have done it. I should have found another way. No matter how horrible they were, I should not have thrown you beneath the carriage to achieve my goal.”

Vic noticed Mrs. Yarrows packed slower now, as if the cook contemplated the matter, so she added more tinder.

“I was a desperate man. I had to be certain they left before dinner was over.”

Mrs. Yarrows stopped packing and glared at Vic. “I spent days preparing that dinner. Why did you have to ruin it?”

“Because the older man had suggested Claire and he explore the pleasures of the body later in the evening. Since I have to leave very soon on a case I’m working, I could leave no stone unturned in my attempts to remove him from the house.”

Mrs. Yarrows sat down in her chair. Vic could tell by the way the woman crossed her arms, she was not yet convinced. “If he really said that, then you had cause to throw him out before dinner.”

Vic sighed. “He didn’t say it straight out. He hid his proposal in fancy philosophical terms. Had I called him out, he would have declared I misunderstood him. I needed to unsettle him, so I answered his solicitation with a threat.”

“You threatened him with my cooking, you mean.” Mrs. Yarrows’ outrage returned.

Vic grimaced. She had definitely lost points there. “I couldn’t make it a direct threat, so I only said I hoped you hadn’t doctored the food.”

Mrs. Yarrows returned to packing.

“Please understand. I had to protect Claire before I left tonight.”

Mrs. Yarrows turned to her. “So what are you doing tonight that’s so important you felt it necessary to sacrifice my good name?”

Vic closed the door to the room in case Gregory lurked nearby. “Do you remember Aunt Maddy’s friend Mrs. Carson?”

“Yes, of course. She is a very nice woman. For Christmas she gave me a collection of spices from the Indies.”

“Well, her sorry lot of a husband had her committed to an asylum, and tonight I’m going to rescue her.”

Mrs. Yarrows sat down beside her case and pressed her hand to her chest. “My Lord…the poor woman!” A moment later, she jumped to her feet and tried to lead Vic to the door. “Do not wait another minute, Victor. Go now!”

Vic stopped her. “I cannot just ask them to release her. We have to steal her away, and it’s a tricky business. Which is why you can say nothing to Gregory. If he thinks I am taking unnecessary risks, he’ll try to stop me. Then poor Mrs. Carson may truly lose her mind in that horrible place.”

“You poor boy.” Mrs. Yarrows snared Vic in an embrace. “Here you are trying to save a dear woman’s life and keep Claire safe from lechers and I’m complaining about my besmirched reputation.”

“Your reputation is pristine with those who matter,” Vic assured her. “However, it was wrong of me, and I am very sorry. Please don’t leave. We would never find a cook half so grand, and Claire would never forgive me for our loss.”

Mrs. Yarrows kissed both of Vic’s cheeks. “I’m staying.”

Having put things right with the cook, Vic’s attention turned to the picture of a woman and a young girl lying in Mrs. Yarrows’ suitcase. She picked it up.

“Here now! Stay out my things!” Mrs. Yarrows scolded.

“Who’s this?”

Mrs. Yarrows sighed with heavy sadness. “It is my sister and her daughter. Now give it back.”

Vic reluctantly returned it. “What are their names?”

“Virginia and Sara, Mr. Nose-in-my-business.”

Vic smiled. The girl looked like one of the maids she had met this morning. Her pleasure diminished as she recalled the girl’s current situation. “Do you stay in touch with them?”

“They died in a fire two years ago,” she said, stroking the picture with affection.

“Where?”

Mrs. Yarrows frowned. “On Bleak Street. Now stop with the impertinent questions before I change my mind and leave.”

Vic wanted to tell Mrs. Yarrows her niece still lived, but before she did, she needed to verify Sara the maid was indeed the cook’s niece.

She had barely left her room when Gregory snared her arm.

“Well?”

“I apologized and explained my frame of mind. Mrs. Yarrows forgave me.” Vic didn’t expect her reply to hold off a long lecture about manners and courtesy. Thus, she was shocked when Gregory patted her back.

“Then get back to your food before it spoils. I’ll give Claire the good news.”

***

Vic had just finished the last bite of an exquisite dinner when Claire burst in the room and kissed the top of Vic’s head.

“You can be most trying,” she scolded. “But your heart is always in the right place, even if your mouth runs amuck.” She laughed and sat on the bed. “Now you have declared us impoverished and living from month to month, I daresay your mouth will stay out of trouble, since you’ll have no one else to scare away.”

“You really didn’t want them, did you?”

“No. What I wanted was intelligent conversation. I miss Xavier’s company at dinner, and I hoped to replace it.”

Vic frowned at her sister’s reply. What she wanted was for Claire to leave Xavier alone. Xavier was hers, and she had made that clear long ago. “Jonas says he wants to learn chemistry.” She thought this a fine and delicate reminder Claire had her own lover.

Claire’s smile brightened. “He does, and you have no idea how happy it makes me. That he would learn just to please me—”

Just to keep suitors at bay, more like it, Vic thought.

“—reminds me how lucky I am. He is the perfect man for me, or will be once I make him a grand chemist.”

Vic was fortunate she found Xavier perfectly to her liking, because she doubted he’d be half so obliging to change just because she wished it.

Thinking of Xavier caused a cloud of doom to rain worries upon her. She would have to visit Inspector Stone tomorrow morning and ensure he had located her odiferous and hideous beggar man.

Chapter 6

Xavier lay in a smoky haze and pondered the strange images that floated in his head. The one he liked most was of a young man with intelligent blue eyes and an impish grin. He tried to stay with the image, determined not to lose it.

All too soon the image faded and the cloud lifted from his mind. Excruciating pain filled the void. “Damnation!”

Someone placed a wet cloth on his forehead.

“Vic?” He grabbed the boney, small hand for a moment before it pulled away. Not Vic. He tried to open his eyes but something held them shut. His fingers investigated and discovered a tight cloth bound about his head, creating a blindfold. Before he could pull it away, someone tugged his wrist down and secured it to his side. He frowned upon determining his other limbs were tied down, as well.

Evidently, he remained alive, but immobilized. He breathed in deeply and smelled an unpleasant musky odor, similar to, but not quite, pigeon droppings. An opium den.

Now he understood his strange dreams and jumbled thoughts. How long had he been here and how much opium had he consumed? He hadn’t the time or fortune for another opium addiction. Damn it all! He might have to give up working for the government and take on endless paying clients.

It would serve External Affairs right! This assignment damn near got him killed—still might get him killed.

He winced as someone poked at the center of the fiery hole in his shoulder. He hoped they at least were cleaning the wound and not just tormenting him.

“Where am I?” he asked, to see if they would talk to him and reveal something helpful.

“You are safe, for the moment,” a man across the room replied.

The voice sounded damn familiar. Xavier mentally cursed his foggy mind when it failed to come up with a name.

Someone continued to prod the wound.

“What do you want?” he hissed from the pain.

Footsteps stormed toward him and the person burrowing about his wound stopped.

“How did you learn of my plans?” The man’s voice now sounded as if it were inches above him.

“I don’t even know who you are, and I certainly don’t know your plans.”

His reward for such honesty was stomach-retching agony as the man drove something deep into his shoulder wound.

“Damn you to hell!” Xavier cried out.

“Get in line.” The sadist chuckled. “If curses worked, I’d have been in hell twenty years ago.” As he spoke these good-humored words, he continued to poke about the wound.

“Just tell me what you want!” Xavier demanded through clenched teeth.

“You know what I want and the sooner you tell me, the sooner we can end this.”

Xavier shook his head, unable to remember what he wanted. Unfortunately, the man interpreted his headshake as a refusal and the torment increased by half. “Damn it! I cannot think in such pain.”

The agony eased to a level of simple excruciation.  “Tell me.”

Xavier sighed. “If you want to have a rational discussion, then perhaps you can stop rooting about in my chest.”

“If you want me to end your suffering, I suggest you tell me.”

The man’s reply proved worrisome. The only way he could quickly end Xavier’s pain was to end his life. Not exactly the preferred outcome to this negotiation.

As the man waited for his reply, Xavier breathed in deep. Besides the sweet coppery smell of blood and putridity, he caught a hint of Indian spices. He took in a second breath and verified the scent. Adding this to his earlier conclusion he was in an opium den, his brain finally identified the owner of the voice. Seth Sojourn, one of the deadliest and most powerful criminal lords in London. Oddly, however, he was not the subject of Xavier’s current assignment.

Xavier’s surveillance of the New Royal Exchange must overlap with whatever devious plan Seth had in the works. Which meant his current situation was nothing more than bad luck. “Did you know it was me, when you sent the boy to shoot a poor old beggar?”

Seth laughed. “You are so vain! Standing at the precipice of death, all you wish to ensure is that your disguise was not flawed. Well, rest easy. The boy had no idea you were the infamous Sherlock Holmes.”

“How long have I been here?” Xavier knew the First Minister would assume, incorrectly, the Mesmerist had him. Fortunately, their search would cover much of Sojourn’s territory.

“Less than a day and already you are causing me more trouble than I wish. Now tell me who told you about my plans so I can get rid of you.”

“Let us first negotiate my release.”

“Are you mad? You have been the proverbial thorn in my side for years. Why on Earth would I let you walk out of here alive?”

“I’m not up to walking, so I’ll need transport. And you’ll let me go because my death will cause you more trouble than my annoying life.”

“And how is that?”

The image of Victor came to his mind. “I have friends who will see you dead if I am not returned alive and in tolerable good health.”

“I am bloody well aware of that. The streets are crawling with Queens Men and Rifles.”

Xavier smiled. “They are but the first wave of your troubles. You’ll be wise to release me now.”

“You know I cannot do that until the shipment is made. However, if you tell me who told you of my plan, I will consider releasing you once the ship has docked in Port Said.”

So his merchandise was going to Egypt.

“If you are waiting for my friends to stop looking for me, I fear your merchandise may spoil.”

Seth laughed. “While young girls are only in full bloom a short time, I do believe your arrogance has overreached reality. Your friends will not search for you for years, nor could I endure your annoying company for so long.”

“Then you should release me now and give up on your plan.”

“Impossible. Do you have any idea how much these girls will bring me?”

By the way Seth spoke, Xavier sensed he was talking about a shipment a bit larger than normal white slavery loads.

“Not as much as you evidently think. The price will drop when you flood the market.”

Dead silence hung in the room.

“Hadn’t thought of that, eh?”

A blade bit into Xavier’s neck. “Shut up!” Seth growled. “You think you’re smarter than me? Yet, who is tied up and injured? And who holds the knife?”

“No one said you were a fool, Seth,” Xavier replied in a calm voice. “However, I do think you’re prone to rash decisions. Until I am returned, do you really believe you can move those girls onto a ship? Or anything else for that matter? I’m a very popular fellow and as long as I lay here blind and tethered, you might as well declare crime on holiday.”

The knife pressed harder into his neck. “All the more reason to kill you now!”

“Consider the consequences. First, the moment they find my body, your troubles will multiply many times over. You will unleash a pursuit equivalent to the hounds of hell. I promise you, they will not stop until you are dead. Second—and probably more worrisome for you—you won’t know which trusted minion told me of your plans. You will have to kill them all just to feel safe again. That will damn near cripple your hold on the docks. I can think of several fellows who will jump at the opportunity to take your place.”

The knife pulled away. A moment later, a door opened, and then slammed shut. In the brief time the door remained open, Xavier heard a woman singing a bawdy song to a poorly tuned piano. He smiled as he recognized the piano.

Seth holds me in the Dragon’s Cloud. Shame I have no one to tell.

Chapter 7

Vic climbed into the waiting carriage and nodded at Jacko. While he had removed his flashing gold chains and bright scarves, he still looked like a pirate, only a barely visible pirate, dressed in dull black clothes.

She reached over and felt the texture of his loose black shirt. “First time I’ve seen you in anything other than silk.”

“Work clothes. Can’t risk light reflecting off me.”

Soot darkened his face, no doubt for the same reason.

“You do have your letter of introduction, I hope. Because Mrs. Carson won’t go anywhere with you otherwise.”

“I beg to differ, but yes I do.”

When they arrived at the Bedlam Asylum, Davy let Jacko out on the backside and then drove Victor up to the front gates.

Dressed like a young dandy out for a night’s adventure, Vic joined a rather large group of gentlemen gathered in the lobby for their midnight tour.

Vic frowned as she counted twenty-six men. The midnight tour was far more popular than the mid-day tour, which had consisted of her and one old man.

“Victor,” a slightly inebriated voice called out.

She silently cursed then smiled at the source of the voice. “Charles, good to see you.” Honestly, she had hoped never to see this stupid oaf from her Oxford years again.

“We missed you at finals,” Charles declared in a slurred voice. “You were good for that, if not much else.”

Victor’s smile turned brittle. Charles was the head of the Oxford cricket team and declared Vic and the other studious boys ‘bloody useless nancies’ because they didn’t play. However, he always turned to them for help the night before an exam.

Charles scratched his head and smirked. “I’m surprised to see you here. I’d come to the mind you were a eunuch.” He then laughed, clearly, thinking himself quite the wit.

The Bedlam official called for their attention. “All the gentlemen wishing the tour of the men’s facility, follow me.”

Victor was both relieved and surprised to watch Charles step forward. Just as the herd of gentlemen hurried down the hall, Charles glanced around, evidently expecting Victor to have chosen the same.

Only eight gentlemen remained for the woman’s tour. Victor sighed with relief. She had no idea how she would have successfully opened cells and created a diversion if all the men had wished to visit the women.

Soon, an official led their group down the corridor into the first wing. Once all eight gentlemen were through the hall door, the guide locked the door with flair.

“This is the ladies’ ward. As you will discover, some of them are old, and some are young, but all are crazy as loons, so take care. We are not responsible for any injuries you incur on the tour.”

He walked to a cell made of three stone walls with iron bars across the front. It reminded Vic of a horse barn she had seen once, except the barn smelled nicer and didn’t have bars. A trembling sweat-drenched, young woman huddled in the corner. He opened the cell gate and nodded to a gentleman up front to enter. “She’s a timid one, she is.” He locked the gentleman in and the group continued down the aisle.

Vic had a great desire to call these gentlemen out for their depraved behavior. These women deserved pity, not abuse. However, such an outburst would get her kicked out of the tour and dash her plans to save Mrs. Carson. Still, she was seething in anger by the time the guide called her forward and sent her into a stone room that smelled like a feral animal’s musk and urine. A wild-eyed woman in a torn and filthy gown hissed upon Vic’s entry. The creature, arms chained to the wall, struggled to break free.

“Be careful, she bites,” the man warned before moving further down the hall and leading another gentleman to his lady.

Vic’s heart went out for the poor woman. “Can I get you water?”

“You can bugger off!” the woman screamed and fought with her chains.

Stepping closer, but still out of biting range, Vic whispered, “I’m not going to touch you. And as soon as the official leaves, I will release you from these chains.”

The young woman stopped struggling and stared in confusion.

Vic held up the key. “I pinched it. I’ll let as many of you out as I can. I wish I could do more.”

“That’ll be enough,” the girl replied and studied Vic with uncertain eyes.

The official returned and laughed. “Scared of her, are you? For a pound, I’ll give you another.”

“No, I like a challenge.”

“Suit yourself.” The man continued down the aisle. Vic waited until she heard the click of the ward door and put her key to work.

The moment she released biting girl, she hurried from the cell, not relying on the woman’s apparent goodwill. The wildcat seemed to have a trigger temper. Locating the nearest occupied cell sans gentleman, she unlocked the cell door and then moved to the next. Most of the women were not chained, in which case she opened the door and moved on. For those chained to the wall, she entered and released them. She had intended to rally them to riot after she set them all free.

However, biting girl seemed to have a different plan which included revenge against the men who tormented them. With long arms, she reached through the bars and snared a man about his neck. The other women were quick to join her.

Vic had just released an old woman in the last cell from chains when she heard a blood-curling beast-like scream followed by a man’s call for help. The wild howl called forth a blood lust among the other women. She needed to get out of this place before the inmates forgot she was the nice fellow who set them free.

She pushed her way through the angry mob and reached the ward door unharmed. If only she had lifted the door key! She knelt down to pick the lock but the frail old hag from the last cell screamed and latched onto her back.

She tried to shrug off the wild woman, but the terror had talons like an eagle. Vic gave up picking the lock and buried her face to protect it from the woman’s claws.

A moment later, she felt the eagle shudder and then drop to the floor. Vic looked up at the biting girl. Blood covered her face and dripped down onto her breasts.

“Why’d you release that one? She’s nutters,” the biting girl scolded.

Vic refrained from commenting they all seemed a bit nutters. She resumed her efforts to pick the lock. In twice the time it normally took, and with considerable verbal abuse from biting girl, she opened the door.

A second later, the ungrateful woman shoved her to the floor, stepped on her rump, and disappeared down the hall. Sensing a stampede, Vic scurried through and pressed herself to the outside wall. A writhing mass of arms, legs, talons, and hair poured from the ward. Once the danger passed, Vic hurried in the opposite direction, down the maze of halls, grateful she knew her way out.

The air filled with shouts and whistles. Large brutish men ran past her towards the fray.

As she hurried along, a horrible thought came to her mind. The plan was for Davy to leave Jacko the carriage so he could steal Mrs. Carson away. Unfortunately, that left her with no means of transportation. God only knew how long it would take to walk home from here. Damn it all! If she had only thought beyond the actual rescue of Mrs. Carson.

No one stopped her until she arrived at the front lobby. The guard checked behind her to ensure no mad women followed and then let Vic out. The moment, she burst through the door, Davy whistled for her.

God Bless him, he had secured a cabby!

Chapter 8

The speed with which Vic set free a riot amazed and impressed Jacko. By the cacophony of screams and whistles echoing in the halls, she may have over-achieved her objective. This sounded serious enough to rally the police.

He dropped down from the ceiling and replaced the tile, then made his way to Mrs. Carson’s cell.

They frequently moved the inmates around. However, the woman in cell 46 fit Vic’s description.

“What is your name?” he demanded as he worked the cell door lock.

“I’m Virginia Carson. And who are you?”

“I’m a friend of Victor’s.” He swung open the door.

“Excellent, let’s go.” She hurried from her cell and waited for Jacko to lead the way.

Jacko laughed at Vic’s insistence that he would need a letter of introduction. He led her through the cleaning rooms, into the mechanics shop and downstairs to the supply shed. Never once did Mrs. Carson speak or demand to know where they were going.

When they arrived in the furthest corner of the supply room, he climbed up the floor to ceiling shelves. Upon removing a ceiling tile, he turned to ensure Mrs. Carson followed and saw her fiddling with her skirts. He’d never rescued a woman before and had not considered she would have trouble climbing. Hurrying down, he tossed her over his shoulder and climbed the shelves again, trusting the woman not to shriek and carry on.

When he reached the top, he lifted her into the ceiling. Her skirt slowed her progress. He glanced back, worried at their slow speed. Getting caught here would be the worst of all possibilities. Not only would he be arrested and Mrs. Carson returned to her cell, but Xavier’s clever access to this place would be discovered. Finally, she moved forward enough that he was able to pull himself up and replace the tile. He breathed a sigh of relief.

Squeezing past her, he noticed she had tucked the hems of her skirt into her waistband so they no longer impeded her legs’ movement. He liked this woman. She might be old, but she was the quietest, quickest, and most obliging inmate he had ever rescued.

When he reached a roof overhang, he pulled away two boards. Hanging on to a solid board, he leaned down and verified the coast was clear. Satisfied, he uncoiled a rope attached to a roof beam and let it fall through the hole. He then motioned Mrs. Carson forward.

Without instructions or encouragement, she sat on the edge of the hole. To prevent painful rope burns, she untucked the skirt and ensured it lay between her legs and the rope. Taking a deep breath, she slid down like a seasoned thief.

Jacko pointed to the carriage waiting on the street.

The woman nodded, lifted her skirts ankle high and ran as if the hounds of hell chased her. Once certain she was safely inside the carriage, Jacko set the boards to right, recoiled the rope for the next time he needed it and moved further down, where he leapt out a window. The fall was twenty feet, but he rolled when he hit, which softened the blow. Once he verified the sound of his landing had not acquired unwanted attention, he hurried to the carriage, leapt onto the driver’s seat, and moved away from the Bedlam Asylum as he wiped the coal smut from his face.

Vic had performed her task a bit too well. They had not traveled more than two blocks when police paddies and wagons of officers passed them.

“Excuse me, young man, but may I see your letter of introduction?” Mrs. Carson called out from the carriage window.

“Now?” Jacko asked in shock.

“Yes, please.”

Jacko stopped the carriage, pulled out the letter, and handed it to her.

“Thank you. Could you pull up to the lamp so I might read it?”

Jacko shook his head and rolled up to the lamp. Additional police wagons passed by.

A minute later, Mrs. Carson leaned out the window. “Thank you, you may proceed.”

***

A beautiful pink sunrise adorned the sky as they pulled up at the country estate. Despite the early hour, the door to the estate opened and a young lady with unfettered dark brown hair rushed out and opened the carriage before Jacko could tie off the horses and do so.

Having no need to get down now, he remained on the carriage and watched the two women hug and rejoice in their reunion. To his surprise when Mrs. Carson broke from the embrace, she turned to him.

“Jacko, would you step down here please?”

Curious, he did so.

The old woman grasped his hand. “I owe you a great debt for saving my life. If I can ever be of assistance to you, please do not hesitate to ask. I can see you are anxious to leave, but may I offer you food and drink before you go?”

Jacko smiled. “I’d appreciate that. Could you pack them in a basket? I will not rest easy until I’m certain Vic arrived home safely.”

The old woman’s eyes grew worried. “Vic? Was Victor there?”

“Yes. He incited the riot needed to distract the guards.”

Both Mrs. Carson and the young lady burst into laughter. “Well, given all the police who passed us, I believe he excelled at his task.”

Jacko nodded. “May I ask why you chose that moment to ask for your letter?”

Mrs. Carson gripped his arm. “There was a small chance you were sent by my husband. If you had no letter, I intended to call for help.”

“But that would get you thrown back in the asylum.”

Mrs. Carson shrugged. “Worst case—yes. However, I felt I had a good chance of convincing the police you had knocked off my driver and were abducting me. I, of course, would not have claimed to be Mrs. Carson, rather Victoria Collins, presently visiting her daughter, Alice Collins.”

The young lady held out her hand. “I’m Alice. Thank you for saving my mother.”

Jacko took her slightly calloused, strong hand in his and smiled. “It has been my honor. And if she ever needs saving again, do not hesitate to call. I have retrieved several men from Bedlam and not one of them was half as sensible or cooperative in their rescue.”

Then to his utter shock, Mrs. Carson hugged him.

“You are a good man.” She tugged at a strand of his long hair. “Although you could use a haircut.”

“I disagree entirely, Mother. He looks so dashing with those black locks.” Alice smiled at him with clear admiration.

Jacko returned her smile and was pleased she did not falter. Most ladies swooned at the sight of him. He remembered his time at the Marquis’ estate. Every time he stepped into the castle, some silly maid would faint.

***

Thoughts of Miss Alice filled Jacko’s head as he returned to London, munching on the generous basket of food she prepared for his travel. He wondered if a Mr. Collins mucked about to ruin his budding fantasy.

He frowned. Her mother’s last name was Carson and hers was Collins, indicating Alice had a husband. With a heavy sigh, he nudged the tired horse forward.

When he arrived at Thorn’s Private Inquiries Davy was out front, muttering beneath his breath while he took charge of the horse.

“Is the day already set against you?” Jacko teased.

Davy looked up and sighed with relief. “Thank God, you’ve returned. Vic intends to check out Wapping Basin ‘while the criminals sleep.’”

Jacko knew there was no such time. Trouble never slept. “Let me try and talk him out of it.”

Chapter 9

Jacko entered just as Vic stormed through the door. They collided, almost causing a hammer and a block of wood to fall from her arms.

“Oh Jacko! I hoped you’d turn up. Did you deliver our package safely?”

“Package delivered.”

“Excellent! You look exhausted. Why don’t you go home and get some sleep. I expect we’ll have a busy night.”

Jacko laughed beneath his breath. My God, but she is an active fellow. No wonder Xavier dotes on her. Between the two of them, London crime might be in serious danger of extinction. “I do need sleep. I hoped to grab a few hours in Davy’s bed.”

“I’m sorry. Have you no place to sleep? You are welcomed to stay at my house.”

He smiled as he realized she thought him impoverished and homeless. “I have a home. It’s just a bit of a hike from here. Davy’s bed will be fine.”

“Then sleep here as long as you like. Don’t worry about clients, I’ll lock the door. And there is food in the kitchen when you get hungry.”

As she rattled off her orders, she hammered a nail on the outside of the door and hung a sign, which said, “Out Investigating Our Clients’ Cases.” Chuckling, he imagined the horror on Xavier’s face once he saw the sign.

The thought of Xavier sobered him and he lost his smile. He had yet to tell Vic his searches yesterday afternoon and evening proved fruitless. However, he still held out hope the handsome reward he offered for information on the whereabouts of a one-eyed beggar might bear fruit. As word spread that he’d pay up to ten thousand pounds, he was certain to get information. Most would be false leads, but he hoped to find at least one diamond among the coal.

Worried how she would take the news, he hesitated to tell her. “Is this case you are working a life or death situation?”

Her face scrunched up. “I’m not sure. It’s an ugly business for the young women, but I don’t know if any have lost their lives.”

Recalling her questions from yesterday, he asked, “Does it involve the Beddingsome Club?”

“I think so.”

He sighed and rubbed his temples. He really needed sleep. “Davy says you plan to go there now.”

“Yes, I think this will be the safest time of day to survey the area.”

Jacko could hear the excitement in her voice. God, she was like a little pup sighting a tasty bone. Xavier had nicknamed her well.

“You are correct, high noon will be the safest time. However, that does not mean you will be safe. Are you armed?”

She smiled with pride. “To the teeth!”

He tried to repress his laugh because he knew it annoyed her. “Is Davy armed?”

Davy was evidently listening because he grumbled, “Not enough!”

“He has a knife in one boot, a small pistol in the other, plus two revolvers beneath his jacket.”

Jacko covered his mouth as if he were thinking, so she might not notice his failing attempt not to laugh. “Then you should be all right as long as you stay in the carriage. Under no conditions should you step foot in the club. You would never make it out alive, not even during the day.”

She glared at him. “I’m tougher than I look.”

“You are very impressive, Victor, but you are far too handsome. You would make the club a fair fortune as a sex slave. I need your word you’ll stay in the carriage. If not, then I have to forego sleep and go with you.”

Vic frowned and shook her head. “You need rest, so you’ll be ready to help me tonight.”

“Then give me your word.”

Vic’s face scrunched up in a stubborn pout.

Jacko sighed. “I’ll sleep in the carriage.”

He ignored Vic’s insistence he go upstairs and climbed inside their transportation.

“Jacko, I don’t need your assistance this morning!”

He lay down on the front bench and closed his eyes. “That’s good, because I’m in no shape to assist.”

“I apologize. I’ll give you my word, that once we reach the London Docks I will not leave the carriage unless I absolutely must.”

He draped his arm across his eyes and fell asleep.

***

Vic stared at her dirty, tired pirate with consternation. She approached her grumpy driver. “Davy, can you make Jacko go inside and rest?”

Davy glared at her. “You don’t listen to me. Why should Jacko? Evidently, I’m just the hired help and my opinion don’t matter.”

She petted his arm. “That’s not true. I care very much what you think. I just wish you weren’t determined to over-protect me.”

“Did you read the paper this morning? Riot at Bedlam? Twenty-three gentlemen required medical care.”

She snorted and kicked a rock by her feet. “Serves them right. Do you know the real purpose of those tours?”

“Of course, I know! It’s why I didn’t want you there in the first place! However, if the police discover your involvement, and then your little secret, you could very well end up as an inmate of the place.”

She considered this and then smiled. “Well, at least we know someone who can get me out.”

Vic could tell Davy was in no mood for optimistic views. A bad feeling had plagued him for many weeks now. She suffered from the same sense of dread, but at least she didn’t take it out on everyone else. Recalling her statements to the cook last night, she sighed. Truthfully, she wasn’t at her best either.

“It’s all right, Davy. I sometimes let these bad feelings make me snippy, as well. I won’t hold it against you.”

Davy muttered something beneath his breath and climbed onto the carriage. “Get in if you’re coming.” He nudged the horse forward.

Vic had to run alongside, open the door, and jump in. Thus, she arrived inside the carriage out of sorts, only to discover Jacko stretched across her bench. She would have told him to switch sides, but by his soft snores, she concluded he was asleep.

She sat on Xavier’s side and stared out the window, thinking of her missing partner. As soon as she checked in with their watcher, Barnacle, she’d stop by Scotland Yard to ensure Xavier had returned to his assignment. She smiled at the thought of Xavier in jail. She imagined a very ill tempered, one-eyed beggar cursing out Stone when he arrived to release him.

As she neared Mr. Robinson’s block, she spotted Barnacle sitting on the steps of a brownstone. She frowned. Wasn’t he supposed to hide in the bushes so no one knew he was there?

Before she could call him over, the door to the brownstone opened and a young, simply dressed girl came out, carrying a basket. She sat down beside Barnacle and let him see the contents. He looked like a kid at Christmas. Pulling out a large scone, he devoured a quarter of it in one bite. Then he deftly broke half off and slipped it into his pocket without the girl’s notice.

That wasn’t good. She’d have to discover what Xavier paid the poor boy. Barnacle appeared in need of a raise. It wasn’t right Xavier would pay her a hundred pounds a month while poor Barnacle evidently made so little he feared starvation.

Even while the girl happily chatted, Barnacle kept his eyes on Mr. Robinson’s house and thus did not notice Vic’s arrival until Davy whistled to get his attention.

He grabbed one more scone and said something to the girl, which caused her to smile from ear to ear. When he reached the carriage, he opened the door to climb in, but paused at the sight of Jacko.

Vic motioned him in. “Talk softly, Jacko’s sleeping.”

Barnacle breathed out in relief. “Good, I thought you’d killed a gypsy, and that’s never a good idea. They’ve got powerful curses that will not just ruin your life, but your whole family’s lives for a hundred generations forth.”

Vic rolled her eyes. Curses indeed! “Well, we’re safe as long as we don’t wake him up. Anything to report?”

Barnacle smiled brightly as he nodded his head. “I followed the butler when he left yesterday afternoon. Almost didn’t at first, because he looked like a toff in a quality suit. However, he was tall with black hair, like you described and he had two ladies with him, which you said he might, so I followed him all the way to the London Docks.”

“To the Beddingsome Club?”

“No. To the New Royal Exchange.”

Vic frowned. She hated being wrong. “How long was he there?”

“About a half-hour.”

“And when he left were the young ladies still with him?”

He nodded and frowned. “But they were crying. One couldn’t stop, so he slapped her about a bit.” After obtaining a description of the two girls, who sounded like Laura and Rachel, she prompted him to continue.

“Where did they go after that?”

“To a street called Ransom Alley. It’s more of a pathway, really. I didn’t dare follow them. That’s not a safe place for boys like me. I stayed hidden in a trash heap and waited for them to return. I waited ‘til midnight, but never saw them come out, so I figured they must have left the other way. I went on home before somebody snatched me.”

“Smart boy,” the sleeping gypsy declared.

“Sorry to wake you,” Barnacle whispered.

“Not a problem.” Jacko muttered and resumed his snoring.

Vic now wondered if those snores were genuine. Who wakes up, compliments a boy and then falls back to sleep? She turned to Barnacle. “Good job, Barnacle. And I commend you on using good judgment when to put your safety above your task.”

The boy relaxed. She imagined he’d felt bad about abandoning his post.

“Any news so far today?”

Barnacle smiled. “I found me a girlfriend.” His brows furrowed. “Well, she found me, but she’s very nice and fed me breakfast.” He pulled his pilfered scone from his pocket. “Would you like one?”

Vic shook her head. She was definitely going to have to talk to Xavier about increasing Barnacle’s pay.

Barnacle studied the treat he had offered and frowned. “It’s a bit dirty from my pocket, but it’s clean inside. Very tasty. Sissy’s mom puts lots of honey in it. She’s the cook, you see.”

“I was actually asking about Mr. Robinson’s house. Have you seen any activity there?”

“All quiet. Although Sissy says gentlemen should start calling this afternoon. They call every Monday, Wednesday and Friday like clockwork. She’s counted up to fifty-two in a single day.”

“Good job, Barnacle!” Vic said, excited with this news. This would help her get the proof needed to charge Jonston for his crime.

Barnacle shook his head. “Didn’t do much for the information.”

“Not true. You interviewed a valuable witness and obtained critical particulars pertinent to the case.”

Barnacle looked amazed with his achievement. “I did, didn’t I?” A smile stretched across his face.

She returned Barnacle to his post and asked Davy to stop by Scotland Yard before they went to the docks.

Her request woke Jacko. “Why?”

“I want to make certain Inspector Stone let poor Xavier out of jail.” She then laughed at the image of an outraged beggar stuck in a jail cell.

Jacko didn’t respond, but neither did he snore. She wondered if he had bad feelings about Xavier too.

When Davy pulled up at Scotland Yard, he climbed down and opened the carriage door.

“You didn’t have to do that, Davy.” He must be sorry for being such a grump this morning…yet, his expression didn’t hint of repentance.

Davy gripped her by the arm and glared at her. “Do not admit to being out last night. Just ask about Xavier and leave.”

“Yes, your grumpiness.” She pulled out of his grip. “Oh, but on the good news, we don’t have to check out the Beddingsome Club anymore.”

Davy sighed with relief and stared up at the sky. “Thank you!”

Jacko spoke from inside the carriage. “Might want to hold off on the thanks to God, just yet.”

Vic turned and glared at Jacko. “You are supposed to be sleeping. I need you rested tonight!” She then smiled at Davy. “I shouldn’t be long, but with Inspector Stone, you never know.”

***

When she first asked to speak to the Inspector, the young man at the desk shook his head. “Inspector Stone is very busy. What is the purpose of your visit?”

“It’s a personal matter.”

The man sighed as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. “Every gent who comes through the doors says the exact same thing and then I get my head lobbed off for not getting the purpose of their visit. Well, not today. Inspector Stone is in a devil of a mood over the riot at Bedlam last night. If you don’t want to give me a reason, then you’ll have to come back a month from now, when my time at the desk is over.”

Vic understood the young man’s difficulties. She had the same problem with her clients. They all wanted to declare their reason for an appointment ‘a personal matter of an urgent nature.’

“My name is Victor Hamilton. Tell him I need to speak to him for a brief moment about my employer.”

The young man frowned. “That doesn’t seem a good reason to bother the Chief Inspector. You need to wait and come back next month.”

“My employer is a good friend of the inspector’s.”

The young man shook his head.

Vic lost all patience, and stormed past the desk, ran up the stairs and entered Stone’s corner office.

Stone was yelling at one of his policemen but stopped mid-sentence as Vic turned and locked the door to prevent the young officer from following her in.

“Victor?”

She turned and smiled. “Sorry, for the interruption, Inspector Stone. I just need to speak to you for one short minute.” She recognized the policeman under the whip as one of the two who interrogated her a year ago. “Oh, hello…Officer Rafe, wasn’t it?”

The policeman frowned, evidently trying to recall when they had met before.

Stone glared at the man. “You are dismissed, Rafe, but this is your last warning.”

Rafe looked relieved to escape the office, but couldn’t seem to figure out why the door wouldn’t open. Vic smiled and released the latch.

Once the door opened, Rafe escaped, but the young policeman outside entered and grabbed Vic’s arm. “Sorry sir, he ran past the desk.”

“It’s all right, Cole. Victor is on our side.”

Cole gave Vic a surly look all the same.

Once he left, she closed the door and sat down. “I am sorry to bother you. You seem to be having a terrible day.”

He sighed. “All my days seem terrible just now.” Returning to his chair, he rubbed his temples. “What can I do for you, Victor?”

She smiled in commiseration. “I just wanted to confirm you found Xavier and put him to his task. I cannot stand the idea of him resting in a jail while I’m working so hard.”

When Stone struggled to smile at her humor, her stomach turned to lead.

After a long pause, he replied. “Yes, Xavier is out and about.”

The inspector was hiding something. She was sure of it. “Then you found him?”

“He’s not relaxing in jail, so you can rest easy.”

“What’s happened?” But even as she asked, she knew. Xavier was still missing. The pit of doom lurking about her closed in. Where was he?

“Vic, you know we cannot have this discussion. So unless you know something about the murder at Bedlam last night, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Stone’s words tore her thoughts from Xavier. “Murder? Someone was murdered?”

“Yes.”

Vic’s chest filled with horror. “One of the men caught in the riot?”

“No. We believe that piece of disaster was a distraction so the woman could be killed.”

Her chest grew heavier. “Do you know her name?”

“Victoria Carson.”

“No!” Vic exclaimed. Dear God, Jacko must have rescued the wrong woman.

“Did you know her?”

Vic was about to tell him everything when she recalled the last time she was ‘involved’ in a crime. The interrogation that followed lasted three lifetimes and ranked as one of the worst moments of her life.

“She was a friend of Aunt Maddy. I spoke to her not three months ago. She was as sharp as ever.” Wishing to lead him in the correct direction, but not reveal her familiarity with the matter, she asked, “How did she come to be in Bedlam?”

“Her husband had her committed.”

“He probably had her killed as well.”

Stone nodded. “He is our lead suspect. Significant money is involved.”

“Well, interrogate him until he confesses!” Vic spoke with intense anger. Despite all her effort, somehow she had let Mrs. Carson die. She should have never left this to Jacko. If you wanted something done right, you had to do it yourself!

She paused. Jacko said he had delivered the package. “You are certain the woman was Mrs. Carson?”

“Her husband identified the body.”

Vic scowled. “He had better hang for it!”

“Well, he won’t until I find the man who killed her and link him to Carson, which I cannot do if I’m sitting here talking to you…”

“I’m going.” Vic knew someone she intended to hang.

She stormed out of Scotland Yard. “To the London Docks, Davy, and no back-talk. I am not in the mood.”

She climbed in the carriage and kicked the sleeping gypsy. “Wake up, Jacko.”

Jacko bolted upright. “He told you Xavier is missing?”

“You knew that?” She kicked him again. “What good are you? First, you let poor Mrs. Carson get killed because you rescued the wrong woman, and second you know Xavier is missing and fail to mention it. Right now, I’m wondering how you ever managed to get Lady Anne to safety last year.”

By the black angry expression on his face, she knew she had pushed Jacko too far with her last comment. She should not have said it. Xavier said he suffered greatly with unrequited love for Lady Anne.

“I’m sorry about the Lady Anne comment,” she muttered.

“You are not forgiven. If not for my friendship to Xavier, I’d leave this carriage now and let you die from your own arrogance.”

“My arrogance? What about yours? You said you could save Mrs. Carson and now she is dead.”

“Well, she was alive when I delivered her into the arms of her daughter. What happened after that is not my responsibility,” he snapped. “I hurried back here to continue my search of Xavier.”

Vic realized she might have been too hasty in her kicks and accusations. “Alice saw the woman you delivered?”

“Saw, kissed, and hugged. Then, Mrs. Carson told me to contact her if I should ever need her help…and to get a haircut. Her daughter objected, stating a preference for my locks as they are.”

Vic leaned back in relief. Mrs. Carson did not like long hair on men, and clearly Alice had greeted her mother. “Then the woman wasn’t Mrs. Carson.”

“What woman?”

“Mr. Carson sent someone inside to kill his wife shortly after you stole her away. The assassin must have killed someone who resembled her.”

“What makes you think the woman didn’t die by accident during the riot?”

“Because Mr. Carson identified the body and declared it to be his wife and Inspector Stone says she was murdered.” Vic looked up at Jacko. “He believes the riot was set in motion to distract the guards so the murder could take place.”

Jacko’s expression darkened further. “You didn’t tell him—”

“And get myself interrogated again? Not a chance! Besides, he lied to me and told me Xavier was fine…and now I discover you knew he was missing. Does Davy know, as well? Am I the only one sitting in the dark?”

“I found out yesterday. I knew saving Mrs. Carson was important, so I planned to wait until you completed the case before telling you about Xavier. I wasn’t certain how well you would function once you knew.”

Vic glared at him for his last statement.

“You said saving Mrs. Carson was critical, so I withheld news that might have knocked you off your game. I won’t apologize for it.”

“But we lost a whole day!”

“No, we didn’t. I spent the day sending out whispers of a large reward for anything known about a one-eyed beggar man.”

Vic leaned forward. “Did you discover anything?”

“Not yet. These types of things take time to float about. Now are you still interested in saving these girls, or shall we focus on Xavier?”

Her heart said to forget the girls, but she couldn’t. Mrs. Yarrows’ niece might be one of them. “Do we have any information at all to help us search for Xavier?”

“All Stone would tell me is that he disappeared after he left you.”

“Well, that’s more than he told me,” she muttered.

“He’s afraid you’ll get yourself killed searching for him.”

“Stone told you that?”

Jacko nodded. “He has a great respect for your abilities to locate trouble. However, he thinks the person or persons Xavier pursued are more than you could handle.”

“Besides trying to keep me off the playing field, are they doing anything to find him?”

“They have mounted a most impressive manhunt. In fact, the London docks have probably never been safer than just now. I expect one out of three men we see will be a Queen's Man or Rifle searching for Xavier.”

This both relieved and discouraged Vic. “And yet they cannot find him?”

“Not yet. However, on the positive side, he remains alive.”

“How do we know that?”

“Believe me, if he were dead, the culprit would have dumped his body for anyone to find. The Royal Rifle Corp are systematically searching every building in the London Docks and wreaking havoc on those dedicated to the business of crime.”

Vic sighed with relief. “Then until we have further information, let’s stay focused on Mr. Robinson’s maids.”

Jacko’s smile returned. “You are indeed a worthy partner for my friend.”

Chapter 10

Jacko remained awake and alert as they drove to The New Royal Exchange. When they arrived, Vic admired the eight Corinthian pillars soaring forty feet into the sky, where they supported a large and impressive triangular sculptured relief, honoring commerce.

Vic frowned. Such a respectable building hardly seemed a place to sell young ladies. “I need to go inside.”

Jacko yawned and stretched. “May I suggest we do that after our tour of the docks?”

“Yes, we should do that first.”

He leaned out the window. “Davy, take Kingswell Avenue down to Lower Thames.”

Davy’s voice snapped back. “Are you mad?”

“Trust me, if Vic stays in the carriage, we’ll be fine.”

“Is Vic going to stay in the carriage?”

Vic leaned out her window. “Yes! Now will you please do your job?”

She slammed against her seat and cursed beneath her breath.

Jacko chuckled. “He’s just trying to keep a promise to Xavier. Cut him some slack.”

As they crept along the crowded street of Kingswell, Vic scowled. “I don’t know why all the fuss. This isn’t so bad.”

“Except for an abundance of pick-pockets, this area is an odd mixture of honest merchants, not-so-honest merchants, bankers, sailors, middlemen, and agents. I suspect Jonston went to the New Royal Exchange in search of a middleman who deals in illegal goods. A couple of them lease offices on the second floor. Honest merchants dealing in common trade do not require offices. The center of the building is an open court with a statue of Queen Victoria reminding everyone to behave. At three o’clock, every day, the space fills with merchants and traders.”

Vic stared at Jacko. “You certainly know a lot about it.”

He shrugged. “I’ve been in the place once or twice.” He redirected her attention to the street as they turned on to Lower Thames. “You’ll notice a drop in traffic and your safety.” As if to confirm the sincerity of his words, he withdrew both pistols from his shoulder holsters.

Vic withdrew her gun, as well. The neighborhood sank into depressing poverty. Heaps of trash gathered against the buildings like giant fungus. Rats scurried about, fearless and aggressive, fighting over the slightest scrap of food. She was not surprised men living in such a place could easily grow up as mean and vicious as the vermin.

“We’ll pass Ransom Alley soon.” Jacko shifted and tensed.

“Can we drive up it?”

His brow rose as if her question were pure madness. “No. It’s just a winding footpath between the buildings. If Jonston took the women to line his pockets, then he took them to Dragon’s Cloud. The main entrance is on Albert’s. However, procurers come and go through the alley.”

Vic didn’t see anything but mounds of trash before they passed it. “Any chance of getting Davy to go back and stop?”

Jacko snorted. “Not a chance in hell.”

Why does he have to laugh at everything I say or do? Alice Collins would do the same when Vic used to accompany Aunt Maddy, Alice, and Mrs. Carson to Suffragette meetings. For some annoying reason, the young lady thought Vic the most amusing creature on earth.

“You and Alice would make the perfect couple. You could just follow me around and laugh all day long.”

Jacko’s focus turned to her. “She’s married, is she not?”

“Not! Nor ever likely to be.”

Jacko leaned forward, his fingers rapping on his knee. “And why is that?”

Vic chuckled as she recalled some of Alice’s pranks on men. “She loves to test suitors by fire, and frankly she hasn’t the dowry to bribe them into endurance.”

“Test them how?”

Surveying the area, she continued, “My favorite was when Alice went out on a lake with Alton Dobbs and purposely tipped the boat to see if he would first save himself or her. He latched on to the overturned boat and called for Alice to swim to him. She was so annoyed he saved himself, she swam to the shore and failed to tell anyone he required rescue until two hours later, when during lunch, her mother asked what she had done with Alton.”

Vic laughed at the memory. “After lunch, we went down to the lake and found him clinging to the boat, bleating for help.”

Snorting in contempt, Jacko shook his head. “Good. A man who would save himself before a lady is no man. He deserved to drown.”

“Not likely. The lake was very shallow. Had he bothered to stand, he would have discovered the boat was in five feet of water.”

“I’m glad she did not marry this fool.” Jacko leaned back. “Tell me more about her.”

Vic noticed his fingers rapped excitedly on his leg. Good Lord, was he intending to steal Alice? Vic chuckled. That would be an interesting match. Further consideration of the possibility caused her to frown. Then they really would follow her around and laugh at her in unison.

She regretted mentioning Alice, but Jacko would not yet relinquish the topic. “So what is it you don’t like about this lady?”

Vic sighed. “I should like her, and I used to like her. We were good friends as children. But then she got it into her head she wanted to marry me. I tried to let her down easy, but she decided to ridicule what she couldn’t have. For the last six years, she’s persisted in this extremely irritating habit of laughing at me.”

“Have you ever asked her why?”

“No. I just pretend I don’t care.”

“Maybe you should talk to her about it.”

“Why bother? I am certain I’ve told you I do not like being laughed at, and you only laugh more!”

Jacko smiled. “I am not laughing in contempt of you, Victor. I laugh at the wonder of you. I am filled with joy my friend has found such a perfect partner.”

She stopped staring outside and studied the incessantly amused pirate. “Really?”

“Consider my laugh a compliment to your extraordinary uniqueness. I think you most grand.”

Pleased with his explanation, she returned her focus on the bleak, garbage-filled, and foul smelling street. She liked he thought her a fine match for Xavier. Now, if only she could locate a one-eyed beggar among this garbage and turn him back into her partner, life would be complete.

Through the remainder of their tour, Jacko filled in details about the various sections and streets of the docks, particularly which were dangerous and which were only moderately so. Then they returned to the New Royal Exchange.

Jacko stopped her before she exited the carriage. “You might want to return your gun to your vest. If not, you’ll cause another riot.”

“Yes, of course. Are you not coming in with me?” Vic re-holstered her gun and buttoned her jacket.

“Not dressed as I am. You should be safe enough inside since you are only planning a look-about.” Jacko’s eyes drilled into hers as he said this.

She nodded in agreement. “Then stay here and try to get a bit more sleep.”

As she left the carriage alone, Davy objected at once, but got out-voted. Vic climbed the endless steps onto the deep portico. Men in suits clustered in small groups, talking, some with much gesturing, while others preferred to huddle and whisper. She walked through the crowded vestibule and smiled at the sunshine streaming into the open space before her. In the large open square stood the Queen immortalized in stone.

Being mid-noon, the merchants had not yet gathered, so the court seemed almost tranquil. She walked about the arcade-covered perimeter of the court and stared at the offices above. Locating the steps to the second floor, Vic continued her search among the row of offices. The doors on many declared themselves insurance companies. However, the names of some offices provided no hint to the nature of their services.

This lack of clarity frustrated her, and she decided to enter each and make inquiries as to their purpose. The first three doors she tried were locked, and no one answered her knock. The fourth was unlocked and she was able to try her clever plan.

“Good day, I work for the London Graphic, and we are planning a spread on the New Royal Exchange. Would you mind answering a few questions?”

The young man looked up from his desk. “You should probably speak to my father.”

“Oh, my questions are very simple. What does Clemmins & Sons do?”

“We are a logistics company.”

Vic tilted her head, hoping for more information.

“We ensure a smooth flow from the manufacturer of goods to the door of the merchant purchasing the goods. We can arrange any transportation imaginable.” The young man declared this with great pride and importance, as someone who expected one day to own the fine establishment.

“That is a grand business,” Vic said. “Thank you so much.”

His face fell in disappointment. “Is that all you need to know?”

“For now. I’m to gather a list of companies and their purposes for my editor and then he will decide which to feature.”

The young man frowned. “Well, be careful. Several of the offices on this floor are not completely honest about what they do.”

Vic grabbed a chair and pulled it closer to the fellow’s desk. “Can you tell me which. I’ll lose my job if I come back with faulty information and he highlights a company that is not what I’ve told him.”

Nodding, the young man leaned forward. “There are three you need to steer your editor away from. First, Stanford Partners are not agents for spices. They are opium dealers. Macroni & Salem deal in the sale and transport of humans, not livestock, and JB Goodnow claims to sell maps, but the man who comes and goes is a renowned pirate.”

***

Vic left the office of Clemmins & Sons with a great sense of achievement. She checked out all three of the dubious businesses. None were presently open for business.

She returned to the carriage and eased inside, so as not to wake up the suspected proprietor of JB Goodnow. She laughed as she sounded out the name: ‘Jacko Be Good now.’ Not bloody likely!

Chapter 11

Xavier relaxed on a soft cloud, basking in the sweet rays of Vic’s sunny smile. He enjoyed these exquisite moments and held to them as long as possible. He groaned as he felt the cloud dissipating.  Fresh pain pushed the image of Vic away and the scent of rotting flesh filled his nose.

“Damn you, wake up!” a voice thundered at him.

Several sharp slaps pulled him into a painful, unpleasant reality. He remained blindfolded, but by the smell of his wound and his body’s weakness, he knew time was running out.

“Trouble?” Xavier asked once he regained use of his tongue.

“More than I thought possible! If I had known a tenth of the problems you would bring to my door, I would have told the boy to kill you and then killed the boy to remove the trail.”

Xavier knew exactly why he had not. “But you wanted the source of your leak.”

“Yes, damn you!” Seth bellowed.

“Which you still do not have, because you have yet to release me.”

Seth growled with frustration. “I cannot release you until the cargo arrives at its destination, and I cannot load the ship with Royal Rifles crawling about like the damn plague!”

“You’re a fool, Seth. You risk everything for a pittance.”

“It’s not a pittance.”

“What happens when ships arrive with far more tea than the merchants wish to buy?”

“I have the buyers in place,” Seth assured him.

“For all?”

Seth paused before answering. “Yes.”

“I think not. And if you don’t have firm contracts with money received in advance, then it becomes a buyers’ market and you are stuck with merchandise you cannot take to another city for a better price. Their local laws forbid the export of humans. And due to the powerful influence of your customers, you won’t find the customs officials bribable in this situation.”

Xavier found the man’s inability to understand the situation most frustrating. “You’re a man of logic, Seth. Just think what you would do if you were on the other side of this transaction.”

Something shattered against the floor. Seth then yelled at someone to get out. Xavier decided to deepen his tormentor’s pain. “You know what’s even worse? After they lower the price, they will want to keep the price down for future sales. Thus, your competitors will double the women they presently carry in order to make the trip worthwhile, perpetuating the market flood.

Another explosion of porcelain meeting the floor occurred as Seth spoke. “That will be their problem. Once I’m done with this sale, I’m done with the whole nonsense.”

“Why not end it now? Allow me to go home, and the Royal Rifles will leave you to your other valuable businesses. I assure you, Seth, if you persist in holding me, matters will only worsen.”

“They already have. There’s a grand reward floating about for any information about a one-eyed beggar-man.”

Xavier smiled. “Then you have very little time to save yourself. Release me and you will know who told me about your plan. Otherwise, you will not survive the onslaught before you.”

Hands grabbed Xavier by his shirt and pulled him up. Pain slashed through his body, almost causing him to black out. He concentrated on Seth’s scent of Indian spice to remain conscious.

“If I go down, I’ll take you with me!” Seth growled.

Xavier gasped and fought to remain conscious. “If you don’t release me soon, you will never have the chance. By the putrid odor of my wound, I’ll be dead within days.”

That remark earned him searing agony as Seth prodded the wound. Fortunately, Xavier fell into a black oblivion.

Chapter 12

Vic had barely stepped into her home before Gregory snared her by the arm and held the Morning Herald in her face.

“Tell me you had nothing to do with this business!”

She stared at the headline. Gentry murdered and maimed in Bedlam

“Were you there, Victor?”

“Why would you think this has anything to do with me?” Vic asked, hoping he didn’t notice she evaded his question.

“Because Mrs. Yarrows seems to think you do.”

How many times had Xavier warned her never to tell civilians anything? They squeal like pigs under the slightest interrogation.

“If you caused Mrs. Carson’s death, Victor, albeit inadvertently, you will need to make amends.”

Vic stared at him in shock. “You want me to hang?”

“Of course not! I am certain this was not your intention, but that does not change the results. A fine woman is dead because of your misguided plan. You can begin your contrition by going to her daughter’s estate and apologizing for your actions. And take your sister. She will try to sway Miss Collins from going to the police.”

Her sister was probably heartbroken over Mrs. Carson’s supposed death. “Where’s Claire?”

“She’s in the garden with Jonas.”

Vic sighed in annoyance. “Well, come along so I don’t have to explain this twice.”

Her reply earned her a slap on the head with the paper. “If you do not possess more remorse than that, then you will hang!”

Escaping to the garden before she earned any more swats, she found Claire on a bench, weeping in Jonas’ arms. Vic sat down beside them.

“Jonas, you must swear never to repeat what I am about to say.”

The servant nodded and pulled Claire tighter, evidently wishing to protect her from the horrid truth that her ersatz brother had bungled a case and killed someone.

Vic waited until Gregory arrived and loomed over them before she spoke. “Mrs. Carson is not dead. She is at her daughter’s estate, alive and well. I don’t know the identity of the poor woman who died last night, and neither do the police, since Mr. Carson identified the dead woman as his wife.”

Claire looked up in shock as she took in Victor’s declaration. Relief and then confusion followed. “Why would Mr. Carson claim the woman to be his wife if she was not?”

“Mr. Carson’s motivations will warrant more assessment when I have the time, but my current guess is because he ordered his wife’s murder and thus expected it to be her. I did not ask Inspector Stone the location of the lethal wound. If she was shot in the face, Carson’s mistake might be genuine.”

“Shot in the face? The paper made it sound like she had died during the riot.”

“She did. I initiated a riot so we could steal Mrs. Carson away. The assassin made use of the same chaos. However, by the time he arrived in Ward 3, Mrs. Carson was gone. He evidently killed this woman instead.”

“You are certain Mrs. Carson is unharmed?”

“Yes. And I want you to go to Alice’s estate and let Mrs. Carson know of this woman’s murder. She will want to come forward, but convince her not to do so. It will only mean this poor unknown woman died in vain, since Mr. Carson will undoubtedly hire another assassin if he knows his wife still lives. Insist she remain hidden at the estate until Scotland Yard can charge Mr. Carson with murder. I will do my best to discover the dead woman’s true identity when I have a moment.”

Claire gasped. “When you have a moment? Victor, you must do this right away! This woman may have family who needs to know.”

Victor’s temper flared at such unfair and irresponsible chiding. “This family probably put her in Bedlam! I have far more important cases, saving people who are yet alive and greatly loved.”

Claire refused to get off her righteous podium. “But she will soon be buried in the wrong grave.”

With Xavier abducted by some nefarious spy and sixteen young maids and ten young men forced into prostitution, the last thing Vic cared about was where they buried some unknown woman. “Well, if her family wants her back so bad, they can dig her up and take her home!” Vic yelled, having lost all patience.

Gregory’s hand clamped firmly down on Vic’s shoulder. “That’s enough out of you.” Of course, he would take Claire’s side!

Vic shook off his grip and stood. “I came home, hoping for a few hours of sleep, but now you have riled me so much I am too aggravated to rest.”

Claire brushed non-existent lint from her skirt as she stood. “Good, then you can come with me when I go to Alice’s. And pack a trunk. We will probably stay for a few days.”

Vic glared at her in fury. “I have work to do. Didn’t I just make that clear? I don’t have time to escort you around the country. If you need an escort, take Jonas…” She paused and noticed Gregory looking ready to swat her with the paper again. “And Gregory, as well, if you like. I’m sick of the whole sorry lot of you!”

She stormed off before Gregory could recover from her shockingly bad behavior and lock her in her room as if she were a three-year-old child. By God, she was an investigator, desperately trying to save lives, and receiving no support from her family.

When she stormed out the front door, the family carriage was ready and waiting. No doubt, Gregory had ordered it so she could go to Alice’s and apologize for killing Mrs. Carson.

“Sam, take me to my office,” she ordered the driver and climbed inside. When the carriage did not move, she leaned out the window. “Now, damn you!”

She had never cursed at Sam before, and it lit an amazing fire beneath him. He arrived at her office in record time.

Once she climbed out, she sent him home knowing Claire would be most upset she had commandeered the carriage. Then Vic stormed into the office, ready to take on anyone else that wished to cross her path. She checked upstairs to see if Jacko was sleeping as she ordered. She found no sign of Jacko, Davy, or the carriage.

“Bloody disobedient help,” she grumbled and returned to the front desk to go through the mail.

She had made it through half the stack when Mr. Robinson burst into the office. “Someone has abducted my servant!” He waved a folded paper about with great distress. “I need to see Mr. Thorn immediately.”

She wished it were even possible. Standing, Vic snatched the folded letter from his hand and read:

We have your beloved servant, Mary. For thirty thousand pounds, we will return her and keep your secret.

Gather the money by Friday and wait for further contact. If you go to the police, Mary will die and we will reveal all your sins.

Damnation! She didn’t have time for more complications in this prostitution ring. “When did you receive this?”

“A half-hour ago. I came directly here.”

“How did you receive this?”

“Jonston found it tacked to the door.”

Vic saw no tack hole in the paper. “Did it come in an envelope?”

“No.”

She scowled. Idiot man. This note had never been tacked to anything. “They asked for thirty thousand pounds. Do you have thirty thousand pounds available?”

“Not presently, but I will on Friday.”

Vic stared at him. God! Must she pull every bit of information out piece by piece! “What happens on Friday?”

“One of my bonds will mature. Thank God, I received this in time. This afternoon I intended to go to the bank and have the money placed in a new bond.”

Vic sighed. “You are most fortunate.”

“Should I obey the letter?”

“Do you want Mary returned?”

“Of course!”

“Then you must act accordingly. Did you tell Jonston where you were going before you came here?”

“Yes.”

“I will keep this note and review the matter with Mr. Thorn when he arrives. I’ll let you know his recommendations in a few hours.”

“Should we not talk to him now?”

“Mr. Thorn never allows clients to see him without an appointment made twenty-four hours in advance.”

“But this is an emergency!”

“They always are. The best method of getting around his rules is to allow me to speak on your behalf and then I’ll let you know what he says later today.”

Victor walked Mr. Robinson to the door and watched him enter his carriage. She puzzled over this odd new twist as she shut the door.

Why would Jonston take such a risk? How did he know Mr. Robinson would not go to the police? She smiled as the answer came to her. Mr. Robinson was also involved with the prostitution ring. Otherwise, this extortion would have driven him straight to Scotland Yard.

She sighed at her idiocy. Of course, he was involved. How could he not notice fifty men arriving each Monday, Wednesday and Friday to dally with his servants? No, as guileless as he might seem, he was a part of the crime. In fact, he probably procured the gentlemen. Otherwise, how would they know where to go for their pleasure?

So why would Jonston risk a break in his lucrative partnership with Robinson by holding Mary for ransom? Vic shook her head, unable to fathom the answer.

Before she returned to Mr. Robinson’s, she needed to stop off at Scotland Yard. Hopefully, Inspector Stone would be in a better mood than he was this morning.

***

This time the young man at the front desk took her message directly to Inspector Stone. Ten minutes later, Sergeant Meyers arrived. “Inspector Stone says you want to know about Angela Campbell?”

“Yes, the woman I seek used to be a housekeeper for a client in the West End.”

The sergeant shook his head. “Well, the one I know is the Madame for Dragons’ Cloud. I don’t think she’s ever been anything like a housekeeper.”

“Beautiful is she?”

“Long in the tooth now, but still prettier than most her girls.”

“Mahogany-red, wavy hair, arching eyebrows and hazel green eyes?”

“That’s her.” The sergeant chuckled. “She was a housekeeper?”

“Not a very good one. She ran off in the middle of the night with all the silver and some jewels about eighteen years ago.”

“That’s about the same time she showed up with enough silver to buy a room in Dragon’s Cloud. I think we’ve the same woman. How can I help?”

Dragon’s Cloud. The same place Jonston took the girls after they left New Royal Exchange.

Vic smiled. “You just told me what I needed to know.”

“Any chance your client would like to press charges for the stolen silver? I’d love to throw her in jail for something. She may be beautiful, but she’s an ugly piece of work. Dragon’s Cloud consumes a lot of young girls and boys.”

“What do mean?”

“Many go in and none come out, but they rarely show up in the morgue so she stays in business.”

Vic remembered the young logistic man’s comment that Marconi & Salem in the New Royal Exchange traded in human livestock. “Any possibility she’s involved in slave trading?”

“I’ve no proof of it, but that’s what I think happens to them. Poor things are probably living in harems in Turkey or Egypt by now.”

Vic nodded. “You’ve been very helpful, Sergeant Meyers.”

“May I inquire about your case that involves Angela?”

Vic sighed. “A servant is missing and my client wants me to find the girl. Her mother was Angela Campbell. I thought she might have retrieved her daughter, now the girl was older.”

Sergeant Meyers frowned. “There is a new girl that Angela treats better than the others. Her name is Mary, but she’s younger than your servant would be if Angela left eighteen years ago.”

“According to the client, this servant is very petite and looks like a child.”

The sergeant snorted. “Then you’ve found your girl. She’s working at Dragon’s Cloud as Angela’s helper. Her daughter, eh? Well, that explains her preferential treatment and why she’s allowed to come and go as she pleases.” Then he shook his head. “Still, I don’t see how a mother can sell her own flesh and blood. It seems unnatural.”

“Well, so is leaving the child at birth.”

Evidently, prone to an optimistic outlook, the sergeant focused on the positive point of their discovery. “I guess your case is solved now.”

“One of them.”

“I know that feeling. One down, thirty on fire.” The sergeant then frowned. “I’m certain you know this, but don’t go to Dragon Cloud on your own. They sell both sexes, and someone might be tempted…”

“Yes, yes, I know. Rest assured, I’ll send an older, more frightening face, if only I can find him and put him back to work.”

***

Upon leaving Scotland Yard, Vic flagged a cab and gave the driver Mr. Robinson’s address. When she arrived, Jonston didn’t hide his displeasure at seeing her.

“So he called you in on this new nonsense?” Jonston asked as he opened the door a narrow bit.

Vic could tell by the way he held the door only a foot wide, that he had no intention of allowing her to enter. “Yes. May I come in?”

“What is the point? There is no ransom! He wrote the note himself,” Jonston whispered in excited agitation.

“Ah.” Vic looked up giving him her best look of sympathy. “This must be very difficult for you. I am sorry. However, unless you wish my employer to stick his rather large nose into this business, then you need to let me enter, so I can follow the seven procedures of a ransom.”

“Seven?”

Vic sighed heavily and shook her head.

Jonston lost his temper. “For the love of God! What is it that you think you have to do?”

“It’s not what I think! I’d leave now, if it were up to me. However, according to Mr. Thorn, I first must analyze the drop site. I understand you found the note tacked to the door?”

“Yes…no…yes, but the master put it there.”

“Who saw him put it there?”

“One of ...” he paused before continuing. “I did.”

“And then what happened?”

“I retrieved it and read the note clearly written in his handwriting. Then I went to the library and asked him what it meant. He read the note and demanded the mechanics to ready his car.” Jonston sighed. “I suppose we are fortunate he only ran to tell you and not the police.”

Vic smiled. Not as fortunate as you think. “Excellent, step one, done. Step two, evaluate the note, done. Step three, interview all personnel in the household.” Vic looked up at him and smiled.

“Again?”

“New crime, new interview.”

“But no crime has occurred.”

“Doesn’t matter. We were hired to investigate a new crime, so I have to do a new interview.”

“For God sakes!”

Vic shrugged. “This is Mr. Thorn’s rule and he is far more difficult than God. Shall I start with you again?”

Jonston pointed to the first room. “If you must,” he growled between his teeth.

Vic entered the parlor. “The good news is I don’t have to ask you what you know about the ransom note, because you’ve already told me. In addition, I don’t have to ask about your personal data—unless you’ve changed religions since the last time we spoke.”

“I have not.”

“Or what you do on days off?”

Jonston glared at her for a long moment before replying a terse ‘no.’

“Very well, one interview down and thirty-one to go.”

“The servants know nothing about this.”

“Well then, the interviews should be almost as short as yours.”

Most were. However, two of the girls were new, replacements for Rachel and Laura, whom Jonston said he fired for stealing. Both of the new girls had haunted eyes that pleaded silently for rescue.

Vic had a great desire to gather them all up now, stuff them in a carriage, and take them to safety. Unfortunately, that would leave Jonston untouched so he could move on and ruin more lives.

Move on. That was the point of the ransom. Jonston intended to sell the entire lot of young girls and boys to Macroni and Salem and move on. If she didn’t save them soon, she might never have the chance.

When Sara arrived for her interview, Vic smiled, relieved to see her.

“I missed a question about your family in my prior interview. Do you have aunts or uncles?

“I have an aunt…or did. I’m not sure where she is now.”

“Does she have a profession?”

“She’s a cook…a very good one.”

Vic smiled. “Yes, she is.”

Sara blinked several times. “Do you know my aunt?”

“Mrs. Yarrows?”

“Yes! Yes…” Sara glanced behind her to ensure they were alone, then leaned in and whispered, “Can you get a message to her? Can you tell her to come get me?”

“I think it would be better for all, if I just brought you to her.”

Sara burst into tears of relief and then sobered as darker thoughts stole her moment of hope. “He won’t let me leave with you, nor will she welcome me once she learns what I’ve done.”

“Well, you are correct on the first point, but wrong on the second.” Vic frowned. She needed to make a plan now. She doubted she’d get access to Sara again.

“Are all the girls in bed by three in the morning?”

“Not always.”

“Four?”

“Yes.”

“Where do you sleep?”

“Third floor second window from the left.” A ring of hope filled her voice.

“Be awake at four, starting this night and tell any girls that you completely trust to do the same. Leave your window open. I will rescue you as soon as I can.”

She grabbed Vic’s hand and kissed it. “God Bless you, sir!”

Just then, Jonston opened the door and entered. Vic was certain he had seen them holding hands.

“Are you done with Sara?”

Vic tried her hardest to look like a young man in love. “I suppose. Shall I interview the outside help now?”

Jonston looked as if he might burst with contained fury. He took in a deep breath before speaking in a tight, constrained voice. “What could they possibly know about this?”

Vic sighed. “This isn’t about what they know. This is about what Mr. Thorn knows. Since he knows you had thirty-two servants before, he will expect new interviews from thirty-two servants now. I’m sorry, Jonston, I have to follow his procedures. As troublesome as you find me, Mr. Thorn is far more aggravating.”

***

During her interviews with the young men, she anointed a young fellow named Danny to ready his other unhappy slaves for escape upon short notice.

She left the harem barn with a sense of ill ease, as if she had made some grievous error. She tried to convince herself she simply missed Xavier, but she couldn’t shake the feeling.

When she returned to the office, Davy greeted her with a severe scolding. “Where were you? I’ve looked everywhere! I’ve even sent Jacko to Dragon’s Cloud in search of you.”

“You two should be sleeping, not riling up the criminals we need to arrest,” she scolded in return. She was especially unhappy because she needed Jacko to help her plan the mass rescue. “Davy, what is the least number of wagons you would need to carry twenty-six people?”

Davy’s face took on a surly glare, as he remained silent.

“All right, I’ll find someone else to advise me.” Why was everyone being so bloody difficult? “Will you at least take me to Scotland Yard or must I hire a cab?”

“I’ve warned you a hundred times about taking cabs.”

“Yes, and I won’t have to ignore your excellent warning if you will be so kind as to do your job.”

Davy slammed out of the room. Vic hoped he was readying the carriage.

Chapter 13

When Vic arrived at Scotland Yard, she skipped Inspector Stone and requested to speak to Sergeant Meyers. When he arrived, she asked if he had a place where they could speak in private. He led her into an all too familiar interrogation room. God, was fate against her? She’d never wanted to return to this room in her life!

Once they settled in the uncomfortably hard chairs, she told him about her current case and her fear that if she did not rescue the servants tonight, she might lose them entirely.

The sergeant scratched the back of his neck. “We need to tell this to Inspector Stone.”

“Can you not help me? I really don’t want Inspector Stone involved.”

“But there’s not a finer mind on the force.”

“I know, but he has a more important task to handle. I don’t want him distracted.” She wanted his entire focus on finding Xavier.

Sergeant Meyers smiled. “He does have a lot on his plate, but he’s used to working on many cases at once. It’s why he’s chief inspector.”

The door opened and Inspector Stone and Jacko entered. “You’re correct, Jacko. You did indeed see Victor.”

Meyers stood. “Inspector, we were just about to come to you. Mr. Hamilton has uncovered a major prostitution ring with unwilling participants. Only it involves a member of gentry.”

“And timing is dire or it will be too late to save them,” Vic added.

“The gentry need saving?” Stone asked in surprise.

“No, the victims. The young men and women who applied for honest work at a good house then were forced to become sex slaves.”

Stone frowned. “I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable telling this story in my office.” When he turned and left the room, Vic had no choice but to follow along with Jacko and the sergeant. She knew Stone’s frown meant he had no interest saving servants from gentry. If only Xavier were here to bully Scotland Yard along.

Once everyone took their seats in Stone’s office, he asked Victor to tell the story again for his benefit.

“Mr. Robinson and his butler have run a prostitution business out of his house for at least eighteen years, possibly longer.”

Stone rubbed his temples as if he had a headache. “What precisely do you think he does?”

“Jonston hires a plethora of beautiful young maids and handsome gardeners. Presently, they have sixteen such maids, and ten young gardeners.”

“There is no law against having too many servants.”

“True, but forcing them into prostitution against their will is against the law.”

“Can you prove that?”

“Do you consider the testimony of the twenty-six victims as proof?”

His finger rapped his note pad in agitation. “The number of claims will help, but the law favors the gentry’s word over the poor.”

Victor slammed her hand down on the arm of her chair. “Well, if we had time, I would suggest you send a policeman undercover so he could be one of the fifty gentlemen who visit every Monday, Wednesday and Friday during business hours.”

Stone frowned further.

“The neighbors across the street can attest to the quantity of visitors,” Vic added and then lost patience with him. “Inspector Stone, if you do not do something soon, my cook’s niece will end up in some Sultan’s harem. Now stop frowning and help me!”

Jacko laughed. This time at least, his amusement was at Stone’s and Meyers’ expressions of shock.

Vic reined in her temper and continued. “Yesterday, Jonston took two of the maids with him to New Royal Exchange. I believe he visited Macroni and Salem. They claim to be a livestock agent, matching buyers to sellers, but to my understanding they actually sell human flesh.”

Jacko choked and looked at Vic.

Stone glanced at Jacko. “You disagree?”

“No, Vic’s right. I just don’t know how he came upon the information.”

Vic glared at her useless pirate. He knew and never said a word! “Well, thankfully, I don’t have to depend upon JB Goodnow for the total sum of my knowledge!”

Jacko shook his head and laughed behind the hand that covered his mouth.

Vic returned to Stone, before he lost focus of the problem at hand. “When Jonston left New Royal, he did not return the girls to the house where they might tell the others. Instead, he took them up an alley to Dragon’s Cloud, where, I believe they still remain.”

That caught Stone’s attention. “You are certain they are unwilling participants?”

“Yes. I wrote their words down verbatim if you wish me to retrieve my notes. The one named Laura begged me to save her from the hell her life had become.”

Stone’s fingers rapped excitedly on his desk. “That is helpful, Victor. Would you happen to know this girl’s background?”

Vic smiled. “I took down the background of all of the victims. Laura had recently left St. Mary’s orphanage. She is a devout catholic and was a favorite of the nuns. She joined the Robinson household expecting a hard but decent life. Even though she has been raped and defiled in every way imaginable, she remains strong in her faith and believes God will save her from her tribulations.”

“Perfect.” Stone said and wrote a few notes. “Anything else?”

“This morning, Mr. Robinson received a ransom note for the exact amount of a bond coming due this Friday. The note said to acquire the money and they would contact him then.”

“Now that has teeth. A jury would convict the butler based on that evidence.”

She rolled her eyes. In the first case, they had victims’ testimony, and in the second, nothing more than circumstantial evidence, yet the second had teeth because the gentleman was the victim rather than the perpetrator.

Vic glared at him and continued. “The ransom note concerns me greatly. It suggests Jonston is breaking his longtime partnership with Robinson.  He plans to sell all twenty-six servants and however many he holds in Dragon’s Cloud into slavery. This means we have only a few days to act if we are to save these young men and women. By Friday, Jonston will have collected his money, sold all the servants, and disappeared from London.”

Stone’s eyebrow rose. “I believe the count is twenty-four since two maids did not return.” He seemed very pleased at finding a flaw in Vic’s story. She rewarded him with another glare.

“Naturally, I took the ransom event as an opportunity to return to Robinson’s house. Jonston had already acquired and abused two new young maids. The girls were shaken to the core and frightened for their lives.

“The last girl I interviewed was Sara. I confirmed she was indeed the niece of my cook, Mrs. Yarrows. I told her to have the girls ready to escape at four in the morning.”

Stone frowned again and wrote on his pad.

“Then I interviewed the boys and told one of them the same.” Vic sighed. “As I left, I felt I had made an error in doing so, which is why I came here.”

Stone looked up at her in surprise. “Never ignore your intuitions, Victor. They will save your life on many occasions. You almost certainly erred in telling the victims to expect a rescue. At least one girl and one boy will report to Jonston regularly for special favors.”

Vic grabbed her head and groaned. God, she needed Xavier! She looked up at Stone. “So I have moved up Jonston’s time table?”

“Possibly. It depends upon his opinion of your skills. From what you said, he might just plan to capture you when you arrive to rescue them and add you to his harem.”

“Thank God.” Vic sighed with relief.

Everyone stared at her in confusion, so she explained her response. “He does think I’m a fool, so I am very hopeful he won’t move up his plans.”

Jacko laughed. “For a minute, I thought you wished to see the inside of Dragon’s Cloud.”

“I would, actually, but I’d like Sergeant Meyers and twenty police accompanying me.”

“We’ll need more than that,” Stone said. “We’ll need an army regiment. However, if this maid Laura has the pristine background she told you, I believe she could inspire unusual intervention.”

Stone rose and looked at Jacko and Meyers. “If you’ll give me a moment with Victor, we’ll get to work.”

Once they left, he sat on the edge of the desk before her and met her eyes. “I apologize that I did not tell you the truth when you asked about Xavier. I am glad Jacko told you what I could not.”

“Well, for the record, Jacko didn’t tell me. You did—with your evasive answers. Had you actually found Xavier in a jail muttering curses, you would have laughed and said yes. Instead, you looked pained when I made a joke about him resting while I worked so hard.”

“You are most amazing.” Stone paused. “I am forbidden to tell you about our search efforts. However, let me say, I will make it a top priority to raid the Dragon’s Cloud with a well-armed regiment and tear the damn place apart searching for anyone held there against their wishes. I am very grateful you have brought to my attention such a poignant young heroine whom we can use to explain why the Queen chose to send army intervention onto English soil.”

As his words sunk in, Vic realized he had just told her they believed Xavier was in Dragon’s Cloud and she had given them the excuse to rescue him. Her heart fluttered with hope. She smiled from ear to ear until she remembered the Queen was reputed to detest the Catholic Church. “Would an Anglican be better? The other girl, Rachel, attends the Church of England.”

“Actually, a young catholic girl works to perfection. The Queen will jump at the chance to prove she cares for her Catholic subjects dearly, and her issues are solely with the Pope. You could not have brought forth a better heroine for our cause.”

Vic laughed. “She is a bit more inspiring than a smelly old beggar man, I suppose”

“You understand me then. Good. In return, I want your solemn word you will not go to Dragon’s Cloud tonight.”

“I promise. What about the Robinson’s servants?”

“We will address them tomorrow. Today, we have someone more important to save.”

She nodded.

Satisfied, Stone called Jacko and Meyers into his office, yelled out a few other names, then ushered Victor from the office.

“May I not stay and help you plan? Jacko says I’m good at it.”

“I have no doubt. However, you cannot stay. Go home and get some rest, Victor. You look exhausted.”

Chapter 14

When Vic climbed from the carriage, she waited for Davy, his expression beyond haggard from worrying over Xavier…and her. “Let’s close the office, Davy. We both need rest.”

His eyes narrowed in mistrust. “Are you really planning to sleep, or is this just a trick to get me out of the way?”

“I have no designs but a night of rest. I’ve canceled my plans for the night due to a mistake I made.”

“Good!” After a pause, he added, “Sorry about your mistake, but I’m glad you’re staying put.”

Vic patted Davy on the back. “Hopefully, what I did right will reap rewards.” She refrained from sharing her hopes that by tomorrow morning, Scotland Yard would have recovered their lost employer. She didn’t want Davy crushed if they didn’t find him. Stone only said they thought Xavier was in Dragon’s Cloud. His rescue wasn’t a certainty by any means.

Still it was enough to bring a smile to Vic’s face as she laid her head upon Xavier’s pillow and breathed in his scent from the last time her one-eyed beggar man had laid in bed. She fell asleep to thoughts of rat-infested garbage filling the streets of Lower Thames.

***

Victor bolted upright and stared about the dark room. Her blood rushed through her veins as her senses heightened. Something had woken her. Xavier? She rushed to the door, opened it and listened. She heard metallic scratching on the front door downstairs.

Damnation! Some rascal is trying to break into our office!

Thankfully, she had fallen asleep in her clothes. She preferred to meet this intruder man to man. She grabbed her pistol and stormed downstairs.

Having lost all her patience with people, she was tempted to open the door and shoot whoever chiseled at the lock. She might have done so, if not for the memory of a prior client who had broken into their office just so he could place his name in the appointment book and bypass the twenty-four hour rule. While she did not wish to encourage clients to break in and set their own appointments, she did not think the behavior warranted a death sentence.

So she waited…and waited. As the minutes passed, she grew angry at the intruder’s incompetence. Now, she was tempted shoot him for professional reasons. If a person is going to pick the lock, then they should at least have some skill. The door handle would probably look like it was ravaged by an iron-billed woodpecker by the time this fool finished the job.

She sighed and set the gun on the desk as she rubbed her eyes. “There should be a competency law,” she grumbled.

A chuckle alerted her someone else was in the room. Xavier? As she turned toward the noise, someone shoved a dirty rag in her mouth, and threw a large canvas bag over her head.

While the idiot at the door might be incompetent, this person proved very skilled at abduction. He had her muted, trussed, and bundled in less than a minute.

He tossed her over his shoulder and opened the door. “Got him, let’s go.”

“How’d you get in there? You were supposed to be the look out!” She recognized Jonston’s irritated voice. Damn it all! Her one mistake had risen to bite her in the buttocks.

“Well, it’s all clear, so let’s go,” the competent, broad-shouldered, and incredibly strong man replied.

She grunted in pain as he tossed her into the corner of the carriage. The carriage dipped heavily to the side as the man climbed in and took a seat across from her. Then the squawking Jonston followed. His continued scolding reminded Vic of the blue jay that used to torment their big black cat, Mr. Tubs.

Claire had always complimented the cat for his patience with the silly bird, but Vic insisted patience was not the virtue that restrained the feline from action. He simply waited for the perfect moment to kill it.

Three weeks and two days later, Mr. Tubs silenced the annoying bird forever. And he showed no repentance when Claire found him in a circle of sky blue feathers.

Vic wondered why this Mr. Tubs didn’t snap Jonston’s neck. God knows the butler was a hundred times more annoying than the blue jay.

Jonston continued to harp about the ‘ruined’ abduction. “I assigned you as look-out. Do you not understand the basic concept of the job?”

Vic could not believe her ears! If not for Mr. Tubs, Jonston might be dead now. Assuming the incompetent fool had ever managed to open the door, Vic would have gladly shot the bastard to save twenty-six young men and women.

Yet, this Mr. Tubs said nothing. Just like the furry Mr. Tubs, he waited in stoic silence. If Vic didn’t have a dirty rag crammed in her mouth, she would have rallied him to action.

Instead, she had to endure a half-hour of squawking before the carriage stopped. She actually sighed with relief when Jonston left the carriage. However, her rough removal reminded her she had greater concerns than annoying blue jays and dirty rags in her mouth. She could smell the stench of the River Thames nearby. Worried the filthy water might be her destination, she relaxed only when Mr. Tubs carried her into a building filled with bad singing to an off key piano, riotous noise, stale smoke, the stench of body odors and sex, plus the overwhelming scent of something similar to, but not quite pigeon poop.

Mr. Tubs carried her upstairs and down a hall with creaky boards. He entered a room with low moans and then climbed more stairs to a second room. He tossed her onto the floor and yanked the bag off her, taking a handful of her hair with it.

She squealed in pain.

“Sorry about that.”

Blinking several times, she took in the giant behemoth. He looked more bored than sorry, but at least he didn’t seem angry.

Every inch of his massive body was a testimony to violence. She suspected he could kill a person with the swat of one hand. His shoulders had to be almost four feet wide.

He shook a giant finger in her face. “No screaming. I’ve had enough squawking today.”

When he removed the foul-tasting rag, Vic nodded and spit profusely.

From a pitcher on the table, he poured her a glass of water and held it to her mouth. She took a mouthful of the cloudy water, swished it about, and then spit it out on the floor. “Thanks,” she said, hoping to soften his reaction to her bad manners of spewing the water on the floor.

Mr. Tubs’ face shifted into either an evil grimace or a defective smile with very bad teeth. “I like you, kid. Sorry I didn’t just follow orders tonight.”

Vic grimaced. “Me too. The world would be less one incompetent blue jay if you had.”

Mr. Tubs ‘hoofed’ a few times, which Vic interpreted as laughter. “That’s a good name for him. However, don’t tell anyone else that. It’ll get back to his wife and she’s a bad one to cross.”

Just then, the blue jay in question fluttered into the room and after a brief glare at Vic continued his attack on Tubs. “I told you to put him in the other room. Are you incapable of following the simplest order?”

Tubs rose so he towered two feet over Jonston and huffed, causing a small breeze to unsettle the butler’s hair. “The other room is occupied.”

“By whom?”

“By a special guest of you know who.”

Tubs said this with great emphasis, making Vic suspect he was talking about Xavier. “Am I in Dragon’s Cloud?”

Both men stared at her in shock.

“How do you know that?” Jonston asked.

With his unintentional confirmation, Vic smiled. “I didn’t until now. I’ve always wanted to know what went on here, but everyone keeps telling me to stay away from the place.”

Her answer calmed the bad butler into thinking her nothing more than a harmless fool. However, Mr. Tubs’ brow furrowed.

Jonston approached her and stroked her face. “Well, you’ll learn all about it when I return. I plan to personally break you into your new occupation. And believe me, I am far more exacting than your annoying Mr. Thorn.”

Vic remained quiet until the man stopped threatening her and left the room. The moment the door closed behind him, both she and Mr. Tubs sighed in relief.

Vic gave Mr. Tubs a look of commiseration. “I don’t know where you get the inner strength. You must be the strongest man in the world.”

He rubbed his giant, bumpy-log arms. “I might be.”

Vic smiled. “Oh, there is probably someone, somewhere, who is physically stronger than you, but I was talking about mentally.”

Frowning, he asked, “How so?”

“If I were in your place, I would have snapped Jonston’s neck a hundred times in the last hour.”

“You really shouldn’t say that out loud.” He rubbed his baldhead. “I don’t need the trouble.”

“Then we’ll talk in code. We’ll call Jonston a bird, and tying a string about its foot means to wring its damn neck.”

Mr. Tubs hoofed again and displayed his frightening grimace. “That is one stupid bird to bring a clever snake right into its nest.”

Vic wasn’t keen about being designated a snake. “The snake isn’t particularly troublesome to anything other than annoying birds.”

He raised a scraggly brow at her. “I can read. I know what hole we pulled the snake from and I know all about that hole. This little snake is as deadly as they come.”

“You should not judge a snake by the reputation of his hole,” Vic scolded, hurt by his declaration. “This is a good snake who helps farmers get rid of pests.”

He hoofed. “Ask the rats what they think about that.”

“But you aren’t a rat, Mr. Tubs. You have too much inner-strength for a rat.”

When his gruesome black smile appeared, Vic knew she’d earned points with her comment.

“So what am I?” he asked.

Vic didn’t think he’d like to be a cat, so she searched further in the animal kingdom for her answer. She smiled when the answer came to her. “You are an elephant.”

His forehead wrinkled. “Don’t think I know that animal.”

“If you had ever seen one, you’d remember.” She waxed lovingly about the elephant’s massive size and strength, able to pull full-grown trees down with its trunk. However, Mr. Tubs couldn’t grasp the proper image of this powerful trunk.

“If you can find me paper and pen, I can draw it for you.”

“Can’t leave the room.”

“Do you have anything that will mark wood?”

Mr. Tubs hoofed. “My knife, but I ain’t giving that to you.”

“Well, normally I would agree giving the prisoner a knife would be poor judgment. However, in this case, I think it is safe enough. First of all, you only need to release one hand for me to draw, so I’ll still be safely tied up. And secondly, you are so fast and strong, knife or no knife, you’d have no trouble subduing me. And thirdly, I like you and would never purposely get you in trouble.” She stopped and smiled up at him. “That probably doesn’t seem like a valid point to you, but it’s a key factor to me.”

“I’m not giving you my knife,” Mr. Tubs growled and scratched his hairy arms.

“Well, then let me try and describe an elephant. Close your eyes and—”

“I’m not closing my eyes.” His voice rumbled a bit heavier this time.

“I just find it easier to picture with my eyes closed. Let’s try this: imagine a big tree trunk, as wide as your shoulders, that narrows so quickly that at six feet high it’s only about the width of an orange. Now turn that picture on its side and make the trunk flexible like a snake.”

Mr. Tub slammed his hand down on the table. “You’re making this up.”

“I swear to God I’m not. If you don’t believe me, then go to the zoo on the northern end of Regent’s park. They have some young elephants. Better yet, go to the Natural History Museum. They have artist drawings that show a man standing beside an adult elephant, standing beside a mammoth.”

Mr. Tubs’ forehead wrinkled. “I know I’ll regret asking, but what’s a mammoth?”

“It looks like the elephant, only much bigger and very hairy.”

He glanced at his arms. “Then why ain’t I a mammoth?”

“Because you are very much alive and mammoths died out long ago.”

Mr. Tubs studied Vic. “Thank you for not making me a dead animal. You’re a good snake, and I’m sorry you’re here. Nothing but bad can come of it.”

Gunshots exploded from the floors below followed by screams and sounds of panic. Mr. Tubs rose to his feet.

Vic knew the cavalry had come. “If you know a safe way out of here, Mr. Tubs, you should go. That’s the army arriving. I really don’t want my elephant to come to harm.”

His frown deepened.

“But before you go, could you tell me where the other guest room is?”

His eyes rounded. “You tricked Jonston into napping you, you sneaky little snake!”

“I’m just trying to kill rats. I don’t want elephants to die.”

His anger dissipated. “The entrance is in the last room on the left, through the closet.” He then opened the closet to her room and looked at her. “You’re gonna be right?”

She nodded.

He slipped inside the closet and closed the door.

A second later, the door to her room burst open and two angry soldiers aimed their guns at her. Determining her bound, one moved to the closet door and verified it was empty. As he stepped back from the closet Vic spoke up. “I need to see Inspector Stone at once. I know where the package is hidden.”

The soldiers didn’t respond and but one left the room. The one remaining stood in the corner behind the door and held his gun ready as he studied all the walls and ceiling for possible attacks.

Certain Mr. Tubs had escaped by now, she nodded towards the closet. “I’d keep my eye on the closet. It has a secret door to somewhere.”

The soldier’s eyes checked everywhere except the closet. Vic thought his lack of trust insulting. “Do I look like the enemy, immobilized here on the floor?” she yelled in outrage.

Before the soldier could respond, the door opened and several soldiers entered with Inspector Stone in their midst.

“Actually, you look like a damn fool who cannot keep his word,” Stone snapped as he asked a soldier for his knife.

Vic took umbrage at his scolding. “I didn’t voluntarily come here! Jonston abducted me from my office.” Growing impatient with the slow speed of his slicing, she wiggled in impatience.

“Be still, damn it!” Stone yelled.

Once he freed Vic’s legs and arms, she stood up and shook herself off. She noticed a soldier studying the closet with mistrust. “There’s a secret compartment through that closet.”

In response, the trigger-happy soldiers fired over twenty bullets into the closed door. Another soldier shuffled her and Stone from the room. When Stone tried to lead her downstairs, she pulled away. “Have you found Xavier yet?”

“He’s not here,” Stone replied.

“Oh, yes he is!” she insisted and stormed down the narrow passage to the last door on the left. Entering the room, she approached the closet, but Stone stopped her and nodded for a soldier to take lead.

Vic reached out and caught the man’s arm. “Do not shoot first!”

Stone reconfirmed her order, and removed her grip on the soldier’s arm. The soldier couldn’t find the door. Then Stone searched.

“There’s no door in this closet, Victor. He’s not here.”

“Let me in there. I’ll find it.” Vic pushed her way in and grew worried as she could not find any sign of a door or a mechanism to trigger a door to open. Frustrated beyond endurance, she kicked the wall so hard her foot went through the plaster into open space. Stone helped her pull her foot out and then stared through the opening she had made. He pulled her out of the closet and ordered the soldier to knock out through to the hidden room.

The man roared like an angry bull and smashed his body against the wall. When the dust settled, he stood inside a hidden room, circling around looking for something to shoot.

“Empty,” the soldier declared.

“It can’t be!” Vic insisted and pushed inside. She could smell the scent of her dirty beggar man. The same scent she had gone to sleep smelling last night when she lay on his pillow.

“He was here!” she insisted and checked the bed. “Check for a secret passage out of this room. They must have moved him.”

This time, the soldier obeyed her order and kicked through the walls. Stone left the room and returned soon after with soldiers bearing sledgehammers. Blood stained the bed. Moving closer, she smelled the putrid odor of infection. Anger, fear and depression overwhelmed her and she collapsed to the floor.

Stone knelt down beside her. “Victor, we’ll find him.”

“We’d better do it soon. He’s been shot and his wound is severely infected.”

Stone ordered the soldiers to knock through every wall of the building. Then he slipped his arm around Victor and assisted her downstairs.

On the first floor, Jacko approached looking confused, and then angry at her presence.

“He’s no longer here,” Stone said.

Jacko refocused on the inspector. “Are you absolutely sure?”

Stone nodded. “Vic found his room, but they’ve moved him. However, to be certain, they didn’t just move him to a different secret room, I’ve ordered the men to break down every wall in the building.

Vic’s attention went to the mass of girls and boys the soldiers herded into paddy wagons. “Sara!” she cried out, seeing the girl tossed into the wagon. How had her cook’s niece gotten here?

The girl turned upon hearing her name and tried valiantly to leap from the paddy wagon, but a soldier grabbed her by the waist and pushed her inside.

“Inspector Stone, you have to help Sara!” Vic dragged him by the arm to the wagon. “She’s my cook’s niece. I have to take her home with me.”

Stone ordered the man to release the one called Sara. Half the ladies declared their name was Sara.

In no mood for their nonsense, Vic stormed into the wagon and retrieved the proper one.

While Sara clung to her in weeping gratitude, Vic thanked the inspector but followed her appreciation with a protest. “Why are you arresting these girls? They are victims.”

“We are not arresting them. We are taking them in for questioning.”

Alarm swept through Vic. “Inspector Stone! These people have endured enough torture to last a lifetime. They do not deserve an interrogation.”

Stone sighed and rubbed his temples. “Well, evidently they do. Not one of them will admit to the name of Laura.”

Vic spotted the young servant in question cringing behind another girl, her eyes pleading for silence. Vic spoke loudly. “Did you tell Laura that the soldiers had come to rescue her? Does she know you are the answer to her prayers?”

Stone closed his eyes as if doing a bit of praying for patience before replying. “No, I just asked Laura to step forward.”

Vic reached out her hand to the girl. “God has answered your prayers, Laura.”

Seconds later, Vic had two clinging young women holding on to her. She looked at the remaining frightened servants. As if he could read her mind, Stone sighed. “They will not undergo interrogation. However, we do need their statements, and since most have no homes, we need to get it now before they disappear onto the streets.”

Vic called for everyone’s attention and explained why there were going to Scotland Yard. “They are not arresting you. They understand you are victims, not criminals. They just need your statement. Once you have given your testimony, for those of you who wish honest work in a proper household, come to the office of Xavier Thorn Private Inquiries two blocks north of Scotland Yard. I will assist you in finding real jobs. Any of you who are prone to thievery and dishonesty, do not stop by my office, because if you steal from the nice people who take you in, I will track you down and see you imprisoned.” Seeing their horrified expressions, Vic regretted her outburst. “Life has been hell for you, I know that. But if you truly want a change for the better, then come to my office after giving your statement to Scotland Yard.”

Laura raised her head from Victor’s soggy shirt and looked at Inspector Stone. “I’m sorry I did not step forward. I was afraid.”

“I am just glad we found you. Sister Theresa and Mother Ignacio would not have forgiven me had I failed in our rescue. They went directly to the Queen and requested her help.”

Laura held her hands to her face. “I cannot believe I am so blessed. God is indeed bountiful.”

Stone gently eased her from Vic and looked kindly at the girl. “I will personally take your statement, and then there are some very special people who wish to meet you?”

Fear returned to Laura’s face.

“I believe he means the Queen,” Vic whispered in her ear. Shock replaced the girl’s fear, and wonderment soon followed.

Vic started to lead Sara away, but Stone stopped her. “I still need the girl’s statement.”

“Her aunt will bring her by tomorrow afternoon.” Having secured Sara, Vic’s mind turned to the other girls and boys at Robinson’s house. “Inspector, is there no way you can rescue the servants at Robinson’s while you have use of so many paddy wagons?”

Stone chuckled. “The Queen suggested the same thing. I sent policemen over to gather them up a half hour ago. They should be at the station now.”

“Will you let them know my offer of honest work?”

Before Stone could answer, and by the pained expression, it didn’t look to be a positive response, another maid named Lil pushed her way out of the group of girls. “I’ll tell them, Mr. Hamilton.”

Vic smiled at her. “Thanks, Lil. I hope you plan to come.”

Lil nodded. “I’ll be the first at your door.”

***

Three-thirty in the morning, Vic quietly unlocked and eased open the door of her family house. She waved Sara inside and ever so gently closed it.

“Vic,” the girl whispered.

Turning to remind her they needed complete silence, Vic’s voice faltered by the angry visage of Gregory looming before them like a very tall specter of death.

Vic swallowed hard and stiffened her spine. “I know you are a bit angry at my behavior earlier today…or rather yesterday. However, right now, I think it prudent to set aside such silly matters and wake Mrs. Yarrows. I have rescued her niece, Sara.”

Gregory turned his gaze on Sara. He made an imposing figure glaring out of the darkness, slightly silhouetted from behind. Evidently, too imposing for the girl—she ducked behind Vic.

“It’s all right, Sara. Gregory isn’t mad at you. And I’m certain he has no idea how frightening he looks just now. Mrs. Yarrows is an excellent cook and he would never purposely terrify her niece.”

“Mrs. Yarrows’ niece is dead.” Gregory’s angry low voice sounded rather like an angel of death.

“Evidence stands to the contrary,” Vic replied with tartness. When Gregory continued to block their passage to the servants’ hall, Vic decided to call in re-enforcement. “Mrs. Yarrows, come out here. We need you immediately!”

“If she quits over this prank, Victor, you will eat nothing but oatmeal and pig’s feet.”

Her two most despised foods. Gregory certainly knew how to threaten a person. “I am willing to accept that challenge. However, you must eat crow when she thanks me for finding her niece.”

Before he could reply, if he even intended to reply, Mrs. Yarrows hurried into the passageway. “Do you need something, Victor? Are you hungry? You didn’t come home for dinner. I made your favorite pudding…”

Mrs. Yarrows stopped talking as she noticed the girl who peeked around and then stepped out from behind Vic. Gregory had finally given up his looming pose and turned to doing something useful, lighting the lamps.

“Sara?” Mrs. Yarrows’ voice quavered with uncertainty and fear, probably fearing the girl was a ghost.

“It’s me, Aunt Mime.” Sara took a few steps forward and then lost her courage. Fortunately, Mrs. Yarrows made up the distance. She had her niece in her arms in seconds.

“I can’t believe it. I thought you were dead! Where have you been? Is your mother alive, as well?”

Vic didn’t think this was a conversation for standing in the alcove. “Perhaps we should go to the kitchen. I’ll put on water for tea, while Sara tells you her story.” Vic’s stomach rumbled. “You mentioned something about pudding.”

Mrs. Yarrows pulled Vic close and kissed her cheek. “There are plenty of leftovers in the icebox, in fact, a whole meal.”

Vic realized with Claire gone, Mrs. Yarrows had prepared dinner solely for her. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you know I wouldn’t be home for dinner. It’s been a rather long and hectic day.”

“No worries,” Mrs. Yarrows said. “I prepared all your favorite dishes. All I have to do is heat them up.”

“The pudding will do. And Gregory would like a dish of baked crow.”

She laughed as she glanced at Gregory to catch his response. His glare was sufficient to douse her humor. “Or not…Never mind the food. You should listen to Sara’s story first.”

***

Victor and Sara sat at the table, Gregory loomed in the corner, and Mrs. Yarrows fed the wood stove while asking her first question. “Is Theresa alive?”

Sara sighed heavily. “No, she died in the fire. We both made it out, then Mother heard our neighbor Mrs. Simpson crying for help and she ran back inside. I wanted to go in, but I was afraid. The flames were soaring out of the windows in the floors above.”

Gregory took over working the stove and sent the cook to the table.

Mrs. Yarrows pulled her niece into her arms. Her embrace caused Sara to burst into heaving sobs. “I should have gone in to help her!”

Sara’s aunt gently rocked her niece and held her tight. “No, sweetheart.”

“That’s why God punished me! I should have gone with her, but I didn’t.”

Sara’s words confused her. She looked to Vic for the answer.

Vic knew the truth would break Mrs. Yarrows’ heart, but if Sara didn’t tell her now, she feared the guilt would consume the poor girl’s life.

“A man kidnapped Sara while everyone watched the fire. He sold her as a servant to a house on Talbot Street.”

“Sold her? What do you mean sold her?”

“Sara has been held in slavery ever since. Her life has been as hellish as one can imagine. This particular gentleman had procured sixteen very pretty young girls, and gentlemen would come and visit regularly.”

Mrs. Yarrows’ face pinched in horror. “Oh…oh my God!” She pulled Sara tighter. “Sara, my sweet Sara! I’m so sorry! I should not have assumed you died in the fire. I should have persisted until I had proof. I should not have given up on you so quickly.”

Sara looked up at her aunt in shock. “Then you still love me?”

“Of course, I love you!” To prove this, Mrs. Yarrows covered Sara’s face with kisses.

Sara enjoyed them for a moment, but then pushed her away. “Then you didn’t understand what Victor said.”

The cook stroked Sara’s tormented face. “I understood him very well.” She looked at Vic. “I trust something will be done to the men who did this?”

“Yes,” Victor promised. “I’ll give Inspector Stone first crack at them, but if they do not see prison, I will make their lives hell.”

Mrs. Yarrows nodded. “What about the other girls who were held?”

Vic sighed. “Almost a hundred required rescue. Twenty-six at the house, and the rest at a sex and opium den near Wapping Basin.”

“Dear God!”

“Whenever they would anger the butler he would move them to Dragon’s Cloud as punishment.” Vic stopped and looked at Sara. “I’m sorry I caused you to end up there.”

Sara shook her head. “That was not your fault. In fact, I’m the reason you were abducted.”

Gregory turned from his cooking efforts and glared at Vic as he bellowed, “Abducted?”

“Don’t yell at me! I did not purposely get kidnapped. I was safe in bed when I heard a noise downstairs. Naturally, I took my gun and went to investigate. While I was focused on a piss poor lock-picker, Mr. Tubs grabbed me from behind.”

“Mr. Tubs, the cat?” Mrs. Yarrows asked.

Hearing his name, the feline Mr. Tubs walked into the kitchen, his tail twitching in agitation. He leapt upon the bench beside Vic, and flattened his ears.

Vic laughed. “I’m sorry, Mr. Tubs, I did not mean to defame your fine character.”

Gregory slammed a bowl of cheese covered onion soup in front of Vic. “I am losing patience. Explain yourself!”

“While I focused on an incompetent fool trying to pick the front lock, I didn’t hear a very competent fellow come in the back. He had me trussed, gagged, and bagged in short time. They took me to Dragon’s Cloud with Jonston yapping the whole way, like a squawking blue jay. I named the big guy Mr. Tubs…in hope he would silence the squawking blue jay as effectively as the real Mr. Tubs had.”

Mr. Tubs evidently liked Vic’s explanation because he placed one paw on her leg and purred.

The cat’s sign of approval lifted Vic’s spirits. While the feline adored Claire, he had shown Vic nothing but disdain since he arrived twelve years prior as a small, arrogant, and troublesome kitten.

Gregory slammed silverware on the table. “And where the bloody hell was Xavier Thorn during this nonsense?”

She ignored his question. She could not go there just yet. Her fear and worry would consume her.

“It wasn’t nonsense. Mr. Tubs is a professional. In fact, I hope to sway him to our side of the battle. He seems underutilized and poorly appreciated in his current employment.”

Gregory grabbed his head as if in pain.

“Do you have a headache? Perhaps you should lie down,” Vic suggested.

Mrs. Yarrows rose. “Yes, go lie down and stop yelling at poor Victor. How can he eat with you in such a state?”

Before Gregory could fire the cook for her impertinent bossiness, Vic distracted him with a request. “Gregory, I could use your help. I’m expecting a large quantity of young men and women to arrive at the office looking for honest employment as servants. Could you go and sort them out? I told those inclined to steal not to show up, but that may not scare them all off. No one is better at detecting trouble than you are. You can sense a lie even before it forms on my…er…a person’s lips.”

Gregory breathed out in a long irritated sigh. “What time are they expected?”

Vic grimaced. “I imagine a line is forming now.”

“And what am I to do with them after I’ve sorted them out?”

“Load the honest ones onto a wagon and take them to Alice Collins. Tell her and Claire they have to find them jobs. However, if you find an honest young man not prone to gossiping, you can hire him for our office to take appointments.”

Gregory glared at her.

Vic cringed. “Or not…”

Mrs. Yarrows interceded. “Gregory! After all Vic has done tonight, surely you can do this.”

Gregory huffed and stormed from the kitchen.

Mrs. Yarrows smiled. “He’s a good man, that Gregory. He’s just hard on you because he feels responsible for how you turn out.”

Once Vic heard the front door open and close, she relaxed. Noticing Sara stared hungrily at her soup, she pushed it over to her. “I’ve no patience for soup, just now. Would you like this?”

The young woman dived in like a starving waif. Vic suspected the girl had not eaten since Jonston had moved her from the house.

Mrs. Yarrows gave Vic an appreciative smile as she went to the cooler and brought Victor the long requested pudding.

Victor took a bite and smiled. “Now that’s a reward!”

Chapter 15

Xavier’s blindfold ripped away. “Wake up, damn you!”

He opened his eyes and looked at Seth. Did the man actually think a person could sleep in this much pain? Yet, as he stared at his new environment, he realized he must have succumbed to unconsciousness at some point, because he was now in a different room. He breathed in and caught the faint odor of rubbing alcohol. The sideboard held a myriad of surgical tools. “I hope you didn’t wait too long.” His voice sounded weak and pathetic to his ears.

“Too long?” Seth exclaimed. “They have razed Dragon’s Cloud to the ground. To the ground! Nothing remains but a pile of rubble.”

Xavier would have laughed, but lacked the strength. “Why are you angry at me? I advised you to let me go.” He paused as he worked through the pain. “To the ground, eh? I can’t wait to see what they will do next. Still think your slave cargo worth the wait?”

“Most of my slave cargo was in Dragon’s Cloud and those stored elsewhere were taken, as well. I want to know who told them, now!”

“Look on the bright side. You won’t flood the market.”

“You think this is funny? Will you laugh when I slit your throat?”

“Let me remind you: whatever hell you are enduring presently will only worsen with my death.”

Xavier sensed the man was on the edge of capitulation. “You know what to do, Seth, or I would not be here. It’s time to end this battle before I am dead and you are destroyed.”

The crime lord paced back and forth for several long minutes. Xavier’s focus returned to his pain. Given his chilled body and overall decline in vibrancy, he feared the fool had waited too long. God had a mean sense of irony. To allow him to discover the perfect partner, emotionally, physically, and professionally and then let him die in a botched investigation only one year later seemed cruel beyond words.

Seth stopped pacing and approached him. “The doctor waits to tend you, and then he will let you go. Now, who told you and Scotland Yard about my plan?”

With a heavy sigh, he said, “Listen carefully. No one told me. I was on a case that had nothing to do with you.”

Roaring with fury, the man knocked a tray of tools to the floor. “You lie, Thorn.”

Xavier ignored his outburst and continued. “However, someone clearly pointed Scotland Yard to your cargo, someone close to you, I imagine.”

“Who?”

“My guess is Conrad Sweeney. He has coveted your position for some time and this set-back will provide him the perfect opportunity to unseat you.”

Seth shook his head. “Conrad is my half-brother. He would never betray me.”

“I don’t know why I bother—you have ignored all my prior excellent advice.” He focused in on Seth’s angry eyes. “You need to remove Conrad at once. If you delay to act on this matter as long as you have with my health, you will die for your foolishness.”

He took a deep breath and grimaced as pain seared through his shoulder from the effort. “You’ve let Conrad get too close and know too much. You will have one chance to kill him. Once he realizes you question his loyalty, he will strike.”

Seth scoffed with angry emotion. “You sound like you care.”

“Only in a roundabout manner. Conrad Sweeny is a mad bull, only kept in control by your firm hand. Once he kills you and takes over, he will become a serious blight on London. And assuming I don’t die while Rome burns and you fiddle, then I will be asked to handle the problem, and honestly…”

Xavier stopped speaking as his vision turned to dim grey tunnels. He fought for consciousness, but he could feel his heart slowing down. “Damn it, Seth…you waited too long.”

The tunnel darkened and his final thought was of Victor.

Chapter 16

Tired and fed, Victor slowly climbed the steps to her room. To her surprise, the feline Mr. Tubs followed. “I’ve no more food, Mr. Tubs.” Maybe feeding the cat beneath the table hadn’t been a good idea.

When she entered her room, the cat pushed his way in, almost knocking her over. God, she had to be tired when a cat could nearly take her out. She stumbled to her bed and fell face down. She had a vague awareness of Mr. Tubs massaging her back before she fell into the oblivion of sleep. She dreamed of Aunt Maddy’s funeral.

The gloomy cold drizzle chilled her to her bones and an impressive sea of mourners, who had come to honor her fabulous aunt, stood behind her. When the minister ended his long and tedious sermon that provided her no comfort whatsoever, she and Claire stepped forward to say their last farewells. Only when she knelt to throw the cut bonds of rope into the grave, did she realize the coffin below was open and the body of Xavier lay inside. He opened his eyes and yelled at her. “You ignorant pup! I needed a better doctor, not your damn tears.”

Victor sat up in bed, as her heart threatened to beat its way out her chest.

Time was running out. She had to find Xavier before her dream became reality. She recalled his last angry words. He needed a better doctor. A doctor! Of course. They must have moved him to a doctor’s office because of his wound.

She grabbed her gun from the sideboard and ran downstairs. Gregory stood at the foot of the steps. He looked tired and grumpy from his early morning assignment.

“Ready my carriage, Gregory. I’ve got a job to do!”

The downstairs clock followed her declaration with eight low booming chimes. Vic thought the added drama to be a good sign. Today, the world would turn to her bidding. Today, she would find Xavier!

She tried to slip by Gregory, but he snagged her arm. “I have interviewed eighty-nine and found acceptable eighty-four young people. I sent them in five wagons to Miss Collins. “

“Thank you, Gregory.” She tried to pull away, but he held tight.

“During the long arduous process, I received neither help, nor intervention from Xavier Thorn. Nor would Davy answer my question as to his whereabouts. I now realize he’s been missing for some time. I want the truth, Vic. What has happened?”

Vic sighed. “Someone has abducted him, but today I intend to get him back.”

“See that you do.” Gregory released her arm and gave her a nod of respect.

She stepped proudly through the breakfast room laden with all her favorite foods, grabbed a biscuit and entered the kitchen. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Yarrows, but I need to leave on important business. I will not return until late.” Noticing Sara, lightly dusted in flour, she remembered Stone’s request. “You will need to take Sara to Scotland Yard today so she can provide her statement. I am sorry I cannot accompany you…”

“Don’t you worry about us,” Mrs. Yarrows said as she stopped cooking and set the pot off the stove. “Sara, find a basket and fill it with the foods on the breakfast buffet. Victor, come with me, for a moment.”

She followed Mrs. Yarrows to Gregory’s quarters. Vic had never been in her butler’s sacred chambers before and was very impressed. The room was larger than hers and expensively furnished. Her attention returned to Mrs. Yarrows now holding a brush.

“You look a bit wild,” she explained as she dipped her hand in the water basin and wetted down a stubborn sprout before brushing it down. Once satisfied, she smiled. “There, now you are ready to go out and do great things.”

Vic kissed her cheek. “Thank you, Mrs. Yarrows.”

As Vic hurried through the kitchen, Sara handed over a basket of food. “Best of luck to you, sir.”

Vic appreciated the change from her treatment yesterday. Yes, this was her day.

As she approached the door, Gregory opened it for her. “Be safe, Victor.”

Encouragement far surpassed swats on the head. Vic stepped outside to find, not one, but two carriages waiting.

She smiled at her family driver. “Thank you, Sam, but I’ll go with Davy. However, Mrs. Yarrows and Sara have need of the carriage…”

Gregory spoke from the door. “I’ll handle it.”

“Excellent.” Vic climbed up next to Davy. “I bring food to sustain us in our great feats today!”

Davy frowned. “What feats?”

Vic opened the basket, snared a fresh biscuit and dunked it into the bowl of jam. “Today, we will find and bring our lost employer home.”

“Finally!” Davy snapped the horses forward. “Where to?”

“First, we need to pick up Jacko, and then we are off to London Docks. And no arguments. We are going to check every doctor’s home and office in that area. I am convinced we will find Xavier in one of them.”

Davy frowned.

Vic could not believe he intended to argue with her. Not today, not on her day to save Xavier!

“I think your plan is a good one. However, we might have to do it without Jacko, because he said he’d be in his office all day, and I don’t know where that is. I didn’t even know gypsies had offices.”

Vic laughed at the idea of offices for gypsies, with colorful wagons parked outside. “Well, fortunately I do, and it’s on our way. Stop at the New Royal Exchange and we’ll pick him up.”

Davy stared at her in surprise. “You seem your old self today. Do you know something I don’t?”

“I know that today we will find Xavier, because today, the world turns for me!”

She had Davy convinced by the time they arrived at New Royal Exchange. No sluggish wagons blocked their way and they arrived in half the normal time. An empty space for the carriage awaited them in front of the steps.

Vic ran inside and up to the office of JB Goodnow’s. She stepped inside, surprising Jacko and a young boy in conversation.

She smiled at Jacko. “I know how to find him.”

The young boy frowned at her. “Hey now, I was here first.”

Jacko handed the boy twenty pounds. “Your information was helpful, Pete,    but insufficient to earn the prize. Now go on with you.”

The boy stared at the bill and stuffed it deep in his pocket. “Well, it ain’t the fortune you promised, but it’s still a prize.”

“More than you make in a year, now go on.” Jacko shooed him out of the office.

“What did he tell you?” Vic asked.

His expression looked dark and foreboding. “He saw men carry a body from the alley heading west. He couldn’t follow, so that’s all we know.”

Vic smiled. “Well, that shortens the space to search immensely.”

Jacko stared at her as if she were mad. “Vic, most of London is west of that alley!”

Vic stared about his office. “Do you really sell maps?”

Jacko sighed. “I buy and sell information, some of which are maps.”

“What type of information?”

Jacko shrugged.

Vic’s eyes narrowed. “If I wanted to know every doctor in the vicinity who will tend bullet wounds without calling Scotland Yard, would you happen to have that?”

“I could sell you a map with their locations marked in red.”

“I would like that map and a handsome pirate to accompany me.”

“You think Xavier is at a doctor’s office?”

“Or the doctor’s home. Xavier incurred a serious wound—I suspect a gunshot—somewhere on his shoulder or chest. The wound became infected and he requires a doctor. I do not think they would risk carrying him far, because he must be close to death.”

“They probably don’t care if he dies.”

Vic shook her head. “They care or he would have been dead from the start. Now I have a bossy boss to save. Are you coming?”

***

After they searched the third doctor’s office with no results, Jacko demanded to know how she had come upon her information. “Who told you he had been shot?”

“No one. We found the room where they held him. The blood on the mattress indicated a front chest or shoulder wound, and the lingering odor indicated infection.”

Jacko frowned. “How do you know he was attacked from the front and not the back?”

“The blood stain created a silhouette of his left shoulder, which means the blood ran over his shoulder and onto the mattress. The black hairs on the pillow indicated he lay face up. Thus, he has a wound on the left side of his chest.”

Jacko nodded. “And how do you know it’s a gunshot rather than a knife wound?”

“I favor the gunshot theory because all that blood wouldn’t have run over his shoulder unless someone pried about in the wound. I thought perhaps someone attempted to retrieve the bullet with their fingers rather than tools.”

Jacko grimaced at the thought.

“How many more doctors before Weston Street?”

“Just two.” Jacko said it as if it were a bad number, but Vic smiled. She was tired of bullying doctors into allowing a search of the office and living spaces. She wanted to find Xavier and take him home.

The moment they entered the next doctor’s office and she perceived the man’s flustered state, she knew they had found Xavier, but she feared they had come too late, since the man was packing to leave.

“Is he still alive?” she demanded and frantically pushed by him to his examining room.

“Here now! What are you about?”

Finding the room empty, she turned on the doctor and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know who you mean?”

Vic sniffed. “I can smell him on you. Now either you tell me this instant or I’ll tear this place apart.”

Jacko pulled his gun and pressed it to the doctor’s head. “And I’ll kill you.”

“All right,” the doctor cried. “Put the gun away. I’m not the enemy. All I’ve done is try to save his life, but they brought him too late.” Vic lost her grip from the pain that shot through her body. Fortunately, Jacko snared the doctor’s arm before he ran off.

Xavier can’t be dead. It’s not possible. This is my day.

The doctor led them across the hall and unlocked a door. They entered a room containing an unconscious beggar man and a bored and depressed giant she’d named Mr. Tubs.

When Vic saw Mr. Tubs reaching for his pocket, she pulled her gun. “Please don’t pull your weapon. I don’t want to shoot you.”

Jacko also had his gun aimed at Mr. Tubs. “I’ve no problem shooting you.”

Mr. Tubs looked from Vic to Jacko and back to Vic. He held his hands up. “I don’t want trouble over this. It ain’t my mess. I had nothing to do with it. Here I am, a highly skilled craftsman and it’s ‘be a look out,’ ‘guard the boy,’ ‘guard the beggar.’ I’m sick of this nonsense, and I sure as hell don’t want to die at the hands of the only person who’s been nice to me in so long I can’t remember. If you’ll just step away from the door, I will gladly leave.”

During his tirade, Vic had turned her attention to Xavier. He looked very ill, far too ill to move. She could barely feel a pulse.

Vic glanced up at Mr. Tubs. “Since you’ve quit your prior job, how would you like an honorable job protecting good people?”

Both Jacko and Mr. Tubs stared at her as if she had lost her mind.

She sighed and looked at Jacko. “Xavier is too ill to move. We need help protecting him.” Then she returned her attention to Mr. Tubs. “I apologize, I never got your name.”

“Sonny…Sonny Tubs.”

“Really? How amazingly odd.”

Mr. Tubs frowned in confusion.

“I have mentally called you Mr. Tubs since we first met. To discover that is your actual name is quite astonishing, but not unbelievable on this day. This is my special day, where everything works to my liking. So I’m offering you honest employment with Xavier Thorn’s Private Inquiries.”

Tubs’ eyes rounded in shock. “I’m gonna be working with the great sleuth himself?”

She looked at the very ill beggar man lying on the bed. “Yes, and he does yell on occasion, but he values highly skilled employees so I believe the two of you will get along just fine.”

Mr. Tubs hoofed several times. “Working for the great man himself. I like that!”

Jacko didn’t look so pleased, but he lowered his gun.

Vic noticed the doctor was no longer in the room. “Jacko, did you let the doctor run off?”

Cursing, Jacko glared at Mr. Tubs as if it was his fault.

Mr. Tubs glared back. “Weren’t my job to watch him.”

“Well, somebody find him!” Vic ordered.

Jacko focused on her. “I’m not leaving you alone with him.”

She didn’t have time for this nonsense. “Mr. Tubs, will you find the doctor for us?”

The giant hurried off, barely making a sound, despite his impressive size.

“He is amazingly light on his feet.”

“He is also a lethal as they come,” Jacko added. “And Xavier is not going to be happy when he learns you have hired him.”

Vic focused on her beggar man, and frowned. “Then he must get well so I can explain my reasons.” She pulled back the sheet and frowned at the filthy charcoal covered body. “The doctor didn’t even clean him. How is this wound supposed to heal amongst all this dirt?”

Mr. Tubs returned and announced the doctor was gone.

“Doesn’t matter, he was a terrible doctor.” Vic looked up at her scowling angry pirate. “Jacko, can you convince a good doctor to come here?”

“I could, but I’m not leaving you with him,” Jacko replied.

Having enough of this foolishness, she grabbed the pirate by his silk shirt. “Listen to me! I am not in danger of Mr. Tubs. We are friends. However, if Xavier dies while you stand here arguing with me, I will make your life a living hell, far worse than any gypsy curses you might conjure.”

Jacko glared at Mr. Tubs. “If they are not both here when I return, you are a dead man.” He then stormed from the room.

Embarrassed by Jacko’s threats, Vic looked up at Mr. Tubs. “Sorry about that. I’m sure you two will be good friends after a few months.”

Mr. Tubs shrugged. “I’m used to it. As I said, you’re the only person that’s ever been nice to me.”

“I need to strip Xavier down and clean him up before the doctor arrives. Will you help me?”

A minute later, Davy arrived and offered his help.

Vic frowned at him. “Is it safe to leave the carriage unattended? Won’t someone steal it?”

“A pirate already has.” He glanced at Tubs and his brow furrowed.

“Davy, this is Mr. Tubs. He’s going to join our staff of skilled employees.”

Davy looked him over. “Glad to hear it.”

Smiling, she gently cleaned Xavier’s naked body. “You see, Mr. Tubs, you now have two friends.”

The giant’s mouth pulled wide exposing his frightening rotted out teeth.

Davy seemed undisturbed by the gruesome sight. “Welcome aboard, Tubs. I bequeath you the responsibility of keeping Vic out of trouble. And believe me, it’s no little challenge. Last night someone snuck into the office and abducted the pup without a sound while I slept upstairs. I aged twenty years before Jacko told me Vic turned up.”

Davy didn’t notice Tubs’ grimace of guilt. His attention was on Xavier’s disfigured face. “He’d breathe better without all this nonsense. Shall I take his disguise off?”

“Yes, you probably should.” Vic had resisted removing his disguise because it helped her remain professional. She feared once she saw his handsome face, she would crumble and weep like a silly female.

As Davy peeled away layers of what looked to be lumpy flesh and dropped them into a wastebasket, Mr. Tubs moved closer and watched in fascination.

“Cripes, it really is Sherlock Holmes!”

Vic smiled. “I should warn you, Mr. Tubs. Xavier hates to be called that.” Then she focused in on the handsome face Davy had excavated. Tears welled in her eyes, and she burst into sobs just as she feared.

To save face, she ran into the closet and muffled her cries on a scratchy coat hanging inside. After fifteen minutes, she gained control and stepped into the room. Only Davy and a freshly cleaned Xavier remained.

“Where’s Mr. Tubs?”

“Standing in the hall to make sure we don’t have unwanted company. I offered him one of my guns, but it turns out he has a rather sizable arsenal on him.” Davy glanced up at her. “I’m glad he’s on our side.”

Vic nodded and smiled. “I think he’s going to work out just fine.”

She sat down on the edge of the bed and took Xavier’s hand in hers while she felt for a pulse. For a worried moment, she couldn’t find one, but finally, she felt the tiniest pulse of life.

“I hope the doctor comes soon.”

Davy rubbed his left arm. “I hope it’s not too late.”

“No…his heart is still beating. He’s going to live, Davy. All he needs is a better doctor.”

Proving the world truly did turn to her commands on this special day, the door opened and Inspector Stone entered, followed by a confident man carrying a black medical bag. She and Davy stood back and let the doctor tend Xavier.

Inspector Stone grabbed her hand and shook it enthusiastically. “Jacko told me how you knew where to look. You did your mentor proud. This is Dr. Connors, the finest doctor in England.”

They both turned to the doctor as he undressed the wound and cursed beneath his breath.

“Is it bad?” Stone asked.

Dr. Connors sighed. “The lead shot remains in his body poisoning him. I’m going to have to extract the bullet and cleanse this wound. However, in his current state, the pain could kill him.” He looked up at Stone. “I cannot promise he’ll live through the operation, but I assure you he’ll die without it.”

Vic stepped forward. “He’ll live. This is my special day. He’ll live.” She looked at Dr. Connors. “I cleaned his body with alcohol before you came, and have water boiling in case you need it.”

“Thank you. If the water is ready, I’ll start now.”

She ask Tubs to bring the water. He returned a minute later with a large cauldron that most people could not have lifted empty.

The doctor removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. “We need to make this environment as clean as possible. Can you find some rags and a smaller pot? We will transfer some of the water for washing the bed, walls and floors around the patient.

With so many able hands, by the time Dr. Connors was ready to begin, the room and bed were significantly cleaner. While they did not dare move Xavier to clean the bed, Victor saturated the sheets with alcohol.

“I am hoping he remains unconscious during the cleansing of the wound. However, I’ve laid out a chloroformed cloth in case he wakes.” He looked at Victor. “If he comes to, apply it to his nose until I tell you to stop.”

She nodded.

He looked at Davy and Stone. “If you will secure both shoulders to ensure he does not move while I am cutting.”

Once everyone was crowded in to do their job, Dr. Conner dipped his tools in a jar of fluid and laid them out on a tray. He lifted a pair of long armed tweezers and extracted the bullet.

His action caused blood to bubble from the ugly, infected wound, and flow over the shoulder onto the alcohol soaked sheets.

Vic felt a great rage at whoever had prodded the wound yet failed to remove the bullet.

She stroked Xavier’s forehead with one hand as the fingers of her other rested upon on the main artery running up his neck.

“That went remarkably well,” the doctor murmured as he saturated gauze with alcohol. He looked at his helpers. “This will hurt like hell. It may wake him up, or it may kill him, but it must be done. Hold him firm.”

He clamped the wet gauze with the tweezers and drove it deep into the wound. Xavier groaned but did not struggle.

Retracting it, the doctor selected another saturated ball of gauze and repeated the action. On the tenth insertion, Xavier woke and cursed the doctor to hell before blacking out.

Terror filled the room until Vic spoke. “He still has a pulse.”

“Then let us end this while he’s unconscious.” The doctor continued to swab the wound, slowly working his way up until he reached the top. Then he trimmed the jagged edges of skin, cutting away all the putrid flesh, and sewed the wound closed. Finally, he covered the seeping wound with clean gauze.

He looked to Victor.

She smiled. “He’s still with us.”

The doctor sighed with relief. “Then he has a chance to remain so.”

Chapter 17

Since Vic refused to go home, Gregory arrived with servants, food, and linens. Within short order, her presumptuous butler transformed the doctor’s office into a cleaner more hospitable environment and laid out a feast for lunch.

Tubs volunteered to sit with Xavier while everyone ate. Vic suspected he had trouble eating with his rotted teeth and would prefer to dine in private. She made a mental note that once she had Xavier on the mend, she’d take Mr. Tubs to a dentist.

***

Everyone was in grand spirits as they consumed lunch and Vic’s perfect day continued up to the point Stone asked if any of the rescued servants had shown up for honest employment.

Naturally, Gregory took it upon himself to answer. “I interviewed eighty-nine, and accepted eighty-four.”

“Perhaps I should check them over. Several of the young men can talk a fine story, but they’ll steal a person blind.”

“But I warned those away,” Vic reminded him.

Stone’s eyebrows rose in a challenge. “Some don’t listen.”

Nodding in agreement, Gregory continued, “Beyond my normal, dare I say, excellent ability to spot trouble, I placed a half shilling on the corner of the desk, partially hidden by an envelope. If the coin disappeared during the interview, I marked off the candidate.”

“How many of the young men fell for that. They were all men, I gather?”

“No. There was one young miss.” Gregory huffed. “I will not say ‘lady.’ Quite the charmer. Said all the right things and then some. I had already decided she would create chaos in any house she entered, even before she propositioned me while deftly pocketing the shilling.”

Stone laughed. “That must be the one who stole Meyers’ watch. So what did you do with the eighty-four who passed muster?”

“I secured five wagons and sent them off to Alice Collins’ estate so she, Claire, and Mrs. Carson could find them good homes.”

“Mrs. Carson?” Stone turned and looked at Vic.

Vic grimaced and glared at Gregory for his big mouth. Didn’t he realize Mrs. Carson was presumed dead and thus not available for finding homes for servants?

Realizing his misstep, Gregory tried to undo the harm. “Victor had nothing to do with the murder at Bedlam. He only caused the riot so Jacko could rescue Mrs. Carson.”

Now Jacko glared at Gregory.

“Gregory, stop talking!” Vic turned and faced Inspector Stone. “I am sorry I didn’t tell you the truth, right off. I didn’t dare. I had several critical cases on my plate and I could not afford to lose the time your men would require to torture me. I needed to save those servants and find Xavier. However, once I see to Xavier’s recovery, I will come in to be interrogated. I will also determine who Mr. Carson really killed.”

Stone glanced at Jacko. “I know your part in this, but…” he returned his focus to Victor. “How the bloody hell did you cause an entire asylum to riot?”

Victor grimaced. “I did not intend for it to spread to the other wards. When I was trying to escape the locked ward of rioting women, a feral creature with one-inch talons latched onto my back. A young woman pulled the mad bird off so I could get the door opened. However, once I opened the door, the helpful young woman pushed me down, trampled over me, and led a band of women into the hall. I ran in the opposite direction of the mob and got the hell out of the place. When I arrived home, I realized the woman had pinched my lock-picks and the cell key I’d acquired.”

Rubbing his temples, Stone sighed.

“I am sorry the riot spread out of control. And I’m sorry Mr. Carson sent a murderer after Mrs. Carson and some poor woman died for it. However, I do not regret saving Mrs. Carson and I do not care if the gentlemen on tour were harmed. If any of your officers were hurt, I deeply regret it, and I will apologize to them personally if you wish.”

Stone looked at Jacko.

Jacko snorted. “You’ll get no apology from me. I gave my word to Xavier I’d look after Vic. If I hadn’t helped, then Vic and the assassin would have arrived at Cell 46 at the same time. The assassin would have shot Victor and without our clever young sleuth, Xavier would have died long before we found him.”

Vic smiled at Jacko’s support. “Not to mention a hundred young men and ladies would be on a boat to live the rest of their lives in harems.”

“That is all very well,” Stone chided. “However, we intended to charge Mr. Carson with the murder of his wife on Monday.”

“He still murdered a woman.”

“Well, unless she’s a reputable lady of society, no jury will find him guilty.”

Vic gnawed her bottom lip as she contemplated the matter. “What if the mistake in identity is not sorted out until after Carson is hung?”

“Victor, I am a man of the law!” Stone snapped, clearly angered by her suggestion.

Vic refused to back down. “Well, I am more concerned with the intent of our laws and true justice. The law does not differentiate between murdering rich and poor, only jurymen do. However, if the idea of turning a blind eye so the law can be upheld and justice served offends you, then I withdraw my suggestion.”

Stone smiled. “God, you are beginning to sound just like your master.”

“Employer!” Vic snapped and stabbed her quail.

***

After their excellent, if not somewhat volatile meal, Gregory sent the servants home while it remained safe to travel. Vic tried to send off her loose-lipped butler, as well, but he stubbornly refused.

After checking on Xavier, Inspector Stone and Jacko left. Vic hoped Gregory’s bean spilling didn’t get Jacko into serious trouble. It was most frustrating that they were in hot water for saving a woman’s life, while Mr. Carson would probably go free, allowing him to hire yet another assassin.

Vic’s eyes narrowed. He might go free, but he would not enjoy an easy life. She would see to it.

“You’re still angry at my slip of tongue, I see,” Gregory said as he entered Xavier’s room and rested his hand on their patient’s forehead. “I do apologize, Victor. I am untrained in your field of expertise. I daresay you would make a few missteps if you tried to become a butler.”

Vic chuckled at the thought. “I daresay I’d bring the house to chaos before a single day was out.”

“Then I am forgiven?”

She could see the worry in his eyes. Gregory had been her only father figure since she and Claire arrived in England, orphans of an boiler explosion that sunk their ship and took her parent’s lives. Aunt Maddy had taken them in without hesitation. She had given them the love and security they needed to recover. And she gave Victor the right to choose a more interesting life of a boy than the restricted life of a young English lady.

Gregory had become her instructor of a gentleman’s deportment. Yet, he had always been more than that. He was her second father and her first mentor.

She rose and hugged him.

“Here now! What is this foolishness?” His words scolded but his hand patted her back with love.

“I’m just glad you are here.” She stopped hugging him since it made him uncomfortable. Proper men did not hug each other. She stepped back and smiled at him. “Don’t worry about the Bedlam nonsense. I believe Inspector Stone already knew I was involved.”

“He looked surprised to me.”

“He looked surprised that Mrs. Carson was alive. He did not look surprised to discover I caused the riot.”

“But…”

“One of my Oxford classmates was in the tour. I think the big-mouthed cretin mentioned me.”

“Well, to be fair, the inspector has a way of getting to the truth.”

“You don’t know the half of it. He has men who will interrogate you until you want to confess to crimes you didn’t commit.” Vic grimaced. “I do not look forward to that again.”

Gregory’s eyebrows rose. “Again?”

She smacked her head for the slip. “All right then. We have both had a slip of the tongue today. Let us forget them and move forward.”

Her butler’s eyes narrowed and studied her with intense scrutiny.

“Gregory, please! This is my day when everything goes to my liking.”

Finally, he released a long breath of air. “Very well, we will put the matter to the side—for the moment.”

She would have preferred him to forget it entirely, but at least she had a parole.

***

Dr. Connors taught Vic and Gregory how to change Xavier’s bandages. Every hour, they would take turns cleaning the wound and bandaging it. Once satisfied his patient was in good care and on the mend, the doctor packed his bag to leave.

“Are you leaving so soon?” Vic protested.

The doctor pulled out his pocket watch. “It is past midnight.”

“If you are tired, you can sleep in the bed—no, I already gave that to Mr. Tubs.”

The doctor smiled and patted Vic on her back. “His pulse is considerably stronger and the fever is lower. Continue to give him water. Try feeding him chicken broth in the morning. Also, if he wakes in pain, I have left you packets of salicylic acid. You may pour it in his water or he can swallow it in powder form. I’ll return in the morning to check his wound and progress. Hopefully, we can move him to a safer place in a few days.”

A worrisome thought crept in Vic’s mind. The streets outside were probably crawling with two legged rats. They might kill Dr. Connors on his way home. “At least, let Davy drive you.”

Her nosey driver’s head popped in from his post in the hallway. “Are you going to wake Tubs?”

Vic glared at him. One minute past mid-night and he was already giving her trouble again. “No, I am not waking Mr. Tubs. I don’t think he’s slept for days.”

“Then I’m not leaving this hall.”

Dr. Connors laughed softly and then looked at Davy. “You are aware there are Queen’s Men and the Royal Rifles Corp surrounding this building and all other occupants have been temporarily evicted.”

Walking to the window, she leaned out. Even in the dark, the white pointed helmets and red jackets with white belts of the Royal Rifles were visible. They surrounded the building like a human picket fence. “He’s right, Davy. Come look.”

Her driver walked over and stared out. “I’ll take you home, doctor.”

Dr. Connors patted him on his back. “If you don’t mind allowing a Queen’s Man to drive your carriage, I’m sure one of the off-duty men would see me home.”

Davy’s face scrunched up. “No, I’ll do it.” He then glared at Vic. “Do you promise to stay here?”

Vic knew he hated other people driving his horse, Marybell. She pointed to Xavier. “After how hard I worked to find him? I’m not leaving his side for anything.”

Satisfied, Davy followed the doctor downstairs.

She glanced at Gregory. “You should go too, or how else will Mrs. Yarrows know to prepare chicken broth for breakfast?”

Gregory nodded and hurried after Davy and the doctor.

***

All alone, Vic turned her attention to Xavier. She carefully eased onto the right side of the narrow bed and laid her head upon his right arm. She didn’t care the sheets were wet and sticky with alcohol. She had recovered her lost partner and all would be well again.

Chapter 18

Xavier woke to excruciating pain, an intense craving for opium, and an inexplicable sense of well-being.

Great, I’ve lost my bloody mind!

He no longer felt he stood at death’s door. He breathed in and caught the smell of carbolic acid, alcohol, and the musky scent of his beloved pup.

Even my sense of smell has gone mad.

Flexing his right arm, he tested his bonds and discovered his movement unencumbered up to his elbow. Hope blossomed.

He heard the soft and steady breaths of someone near his right. Vic’s unmistakable scent settled in his nose. Victor.

Seth has captured Victor!

Rage surged through his body and threatened to overtake him. He could not afford the indulgence. He needed hard cold rational logic to get them out of this. His beloved’s life depended upon it.

Once fully in control of his thoughts and senses, he opened his eyes a sliver. He had hoped beyond reason he might see the wall of his bedroom.

The exposed grey wood and torn faded wallpaper killed all possibility his capture had been nothing more than a nightmare.

Vic slept on his right, and even in her sleep, she held onto his arm with a tenacious strength. His heart swelled with love, but he pushed away the emotion. Right now, he needed to focus on escaping.

Hearing no sign of anyone else in the room, he gently shook Vic awake.

She groaned and muttered something that sounded like ‘leave me be.’

He shook her harder and she woke up barking. “What?” she demanded as she bolted upright.

“Be quiet, damn you,” Xavier whispered as he pushed himself up to a sitting position. The resulting pain threatened to undo him.

“You’re awake.” She covered his face with kisses.

He pushed her away. “Not now! I’ve first got to get us out of here.”

“But you’re in no condition to move.”

“I know that, but since you require rescue, I really don’t have a choice, now do I?” She cringed at his angry tone. His fear and worry for her safety had made his words sound far uglier than he intended.

“Rescue me?” she yelled in full voice.

Xavier tried to cover her mouth, but the attempt only intensified the excruciating pain in his wound and he collapsed. However, before he lost consciousness he forced three words from his mouth. “Vic, save yourself.”

***

Vic glared at him. “Save myself? I saved you, you ungrateful beggar! I worked very hard to find you. And do you think it was easy? Do you think you were my only case? I had to save over a hundred people first and rescue Mrs. Carson from an asylum. But, at least they were grateful and didn’t insult me.” Vic stopped her tirade.

Xavier’s head tilted towards her, his mouth open. He looked…dead.

“No, no, no! You cannot insult me and die, Xavier, I won’t allow it.”

Her cries caused Mr. Tubs and Davy to run into the room. Mr. Tubs remained at the door, but Davy ran to Xavier’s left side and grabbed his wrist.

“Xavier, please. You can rescue me if you want. Just come back, please.” Tears streamed down her face.

“Vic, he’s not dead,” Davy said.

“Not…” She grabbed Xavier’s right wrist and felt for his pulse, finally finding it. Steadying herself, she dried her eyes. Then in a sudden burst of emotional rage, she slapped Xavier’s good arm. “How dare you scare me like that!”

“You need to calm down,” Davy scolded. “Now, tell me what happened.”

She sniffed and glared at Xavier. “He woke me up and cursed at me. When he tried to get up, I told him he was in no condition to move and he snapped my head off, telling me he knew that, but since I needed rescue, he had no choice.” Upon retelling it, Vic frowned. “Do you think he’s lost his mind?”

Davy smiled and looked around the room. “I think Xavier concluded from his poor surroundings that you had been captured, as well.”

“Oh…which explains why he was yelling and cursing in whispers.”

Davy nodded and then looked at Mr. Tubs. “Until we convince Xavier that Vic doesn’t need rescue, you should probably stay out of the room.”

Mr. Tubs nodded and disappeared.

She slapped Davy’s arm. “That was rude of you!”

“Just trying to save his life. Now instead of slapping people trying to help, maybe you could come over here and change the bandage. And don’t let me see you hitting your patient again either!”

Vic scowled as she tended to Xavier’s wound. “I didn’t hurt him. I hit his good arm and he was unconscious, so he doesn’t know.”

“Doesn’t make it right,” Davy grumbled.

“No, it doesn’t. And I’m sorry for hitting you, as well.” She paused, struggling to keep her composure. “It was what he said to me—‘Vic, save yourself.’ Those were the last words my mother said before those damnable skirts she wore pulled her to the ocean’s floor. I felt this terrible surge of helplessness and rage, just like I did back then.”

He patted her back. “I’m sorry he brought back that memory, but on the bright side, he’s not drowning. He’s safe and sound on this sticky bed and getting stronger by the hour.”

“This bed is sticky. Maybe while he’s unconscious we can move him to the other bed.”

“That’s a good idea. The other room won’t scare him so bad when he wakes up.”

***

Mr. Tubs had no problem lifting Xavier and carrying him across the hall to a bed fitted with fresh clean sheets.

When Dr. Connors arrived, he was not pleased they had moved Xavier without his permission, but agreed the new cleaner environment was better for the patient.

Vic defended her decision. “Mr. Tubs was very gentle as he carried him. The fresh blood on his bandage is due to his attempt to escape.”

“Escape?” Dr. Connors’ eyes rounded in shock.

“He woke up this morning determined to rescue me from our squalid surroundings.”

“He tried to leave?” The doctor pressed his hand on Xavier’s forehead.

“He only managed to sit up and yell at me before collapsing from the pain.” She frowned at the memory. “For a moment, I thought he had died.”

Dr. Connors finished his exam. “He was frightfully close to death yesterday when I arrived, but he has made significant progress since then. If you don’t mind, I will stay until he wakes.”

“I don’t mind.” Vic sat on the bed beside Xavier and brushed his unruly black hair from his face. She smiled at her beloved grump, currently in sore need of a barber.

Dr. Connors sat down in a chair on the other side of the bed.

His presence was reassuring. Now if Xavier woke and decided to leap about, the doctor could help her calm him down.

She gnawed her bottom lip. Unless Xavier mistook the doctor for his abductor and tried to kill him…

“Something wrong?” the doctor asked.

Realizing she had been under his scrutiny, her frown deepened. “I think perhaps you should wait in the other room. I wouldn’t want Xavier to mistake you for his abductor.”

While her comment made his brow furrow, Dr. Connors didn’t run from the room. Instead, he stood and checked Xavier’s temperature again. “Was Xavier having delusions when he woke?”

“No. He was his normal, cranky, ungrateful self.” She still resented him yelling at her.

Chuckling, he returned to his seat. “Well, that I am accustomed to. He has never been a gracious patient.”

His words surprised her. “You know him?”

“I’ve patched him up on an occasion or two.”

Vic grasped Xavier’s right hand and smiled at her sleeping employer.

After a long moment of silence, Dr. Connors leaned forward and stared at her. “Forgive me for asking, but do you always dress as a man? I noticed everyone refers to you in male gender, and you play the part quite effectively.”

Vic tightened her grip on Xavier’s hand. “What makes you think I’m not a man?”

His finger touched the Adam’s apple on his neck. “Most young men your age have developed a bump in their throat as their voice box grows in size.”

Vic’s eyes narrowed. “Well, perhaps mine did not grow so much. That hardly warrants you to defame my character.”

Unexpectedly a third party weighed in on the matter. While his eyes remained closed, Xavier spoke. “Be careful, Connors. Vic has a deadly aim and a cruel penchant for shooting people in the gut. Challenge his manhood and you might survive the duel, but you will certainly regret the error of your ways.”

Vic glared at the doctor. “He is not being delusional.”

The doctor’s eyebrows rose a full inch. “Then you do shoot people in the stomach?”

“No, of course not! He’s just amusing himself at my expense.” She reached over and stroked Xavier’s forehead. “It’s just one of his many annoying habits.” Even to her ears, her words sounded like proclamations of love.

Xavier opened his eyes and returned her smile. “Connors, can you give us a minute.”

“Aren’t you in pain?” the doctor asked.

“In more ways than one, and I will discuss the matter with you in a moment. I just need to speak to Victor first. Then you and I can have a private conversation.” Xavier’s clipped tones moved Connors from the room with no further argument.

Vic sighed. “I wish I could develop your tone. I’ve had a devil of a time getting people to do what I want. Even clients are more difficult without you in the room.”

He smiled and tugged her closer to him. “I am sorry I yelled at you before. I’m sure you have a very good reason why we are living in squalor, and I look forward to the explanation. As long as you are safe and near my side, I don’t care where we live.”

She laughed. “Well, I do. So as soon as you are well enough to move, we will return home. And I’m certain the Queen will be glad to have her sixty men, who guard our private tenement building, returned.” Vic frowned. “But no more than the people who live here normally, I imagine.”

His head tilted as he considered her comments and then smiled. “He finally took me to a doctor. I remember now.”

“Who did?”

Xavier shook his head. “You’ll not go after my captor. I promised him an end to his torment if he’d released me alive.”

Vic scowled. “Well, he sent you to a very bad doctor and you were barely alive when I found you. Thus, in my opinion, he did not negotiate in good faith.”

“Perhaps not, but I am a man of my word. So you will remain muzzled in this matter.” He reached up and stroked her face. “I want your word that you will not go after this man if someone else reveals his identity.”

Her brow furrowed, not liking his request at all. “His name isn’t Mr. Carson, is it?”

“No.”

“Then you have my word, but only because you are sick and I don’t want you to die while yelling at me.”

His hand curled around her neck and he pulled her closer. He covered her face with light kisses but refused her lips.

Seeing her pout, he explained. “Vic, I have not seen a tooth brush since I left you last. I very well might poison you if we kissed just now.”

Vic nodded. “Same here. I had the foulest tasting rag in my mouth for hours.”

His expression darkened. “Why?”

She regretted her complaint. “I’ll tell you later, but rest assured nothing bad happened, other than that vile rag…and on the bright side, I have hired us a highly skilled and helpful new employee. Davy and he are great friends, already.”

“You placed someone on my staff without approval from me?”

“You were right there in the room when I made him an offer. If you objected you should have said something.”

His narrowing eyes warned her he was gathering the strength to yell. She laid her head on the good side of his chest. “We can discuss this later, when you are better. I find no pleasure fighting with you when you are this ill. I fear you will end the argument with death.”

Xavier sighed and stroked her hair. Then he sniffed several times. “When was the last time you bathed?” His voice sounded angry.

Sitting up in outrage, she glared at him. “I don’t exactly recall. I’ve been too damn busy saving people from insane asylums and white slavers, not to mention finding missing employers.”

“Did you by chance save a boat load of people?”

“Well they weren’t in a boat yet, but we rescued over a hundred.”

He stroked her cheek. “Then you not only found me, but you saved me. He wanted to sell his slaves before he released me. Once you removed them from the field of play, he caved at once.”

“He may have caved, but he sent you to such a bad doctor, you nearly died all the same.”

“Except my pup found me.”

Honor required her to spread the credit of his rescue. “A little boy named Pete saw the direction they took you. Then Jacko sold me a map marking all the doctors on the west side of Dragon’s Cloud.”

Xavier blinked slowly. “He made you buy that map?”

“Yes, but he did accompany me, which was a good thing, because you weren’t in the doctor’s office. The sorry-excuse-for-a-doctor had you stashed across the hall in a locked room. He was packed and ready to leave town when we arrived. If Jacko hadn’t coerced him to show us where you were, you might have died before I found you.”

Her words didn’t change the annoyance etched on his face. “I cannot believe he made you pay for the map.”

“Xavier, aren’t you listening to me? Jacko’s map and assistance were worth the ten pounds I paid.”

“Ten pounds!” Xavier yelled. “Bloody Hell!”

“Calm down. Why are you so mad at Jacko?”

“That valuable map you bought was created by me. And he has the audacity to charge you ten pounds, so I could be saved by my own map.”

“Well, at least now I know why he laughed when I gave him the money. The man constantly chuckles over nothing. He can be highly annoying, but he did come in handy when stealing Mrs. Carson from Bedlam.”

He stroked her cheek. “I am glad you let him perform that service.”

“He said he had done it before, so I felt him more experienced.”

“Good, pup,” Xavier said and patted her head.

Vic sat up and frowned at him. “I’m in no mood to be downgraded to a pup after my hard week.”

She noticed the pain lines forming on his brow and regretted her scolding. “Your ‘good pup’ will retrieve Connors now.”

***

Connors came in alone and stood before Xavier. “I have salicylic acid but I think you are in need of something more.”

He nodded. “The bastard takes great pleasure in addicting me to opium.”

“It’s just temporary. We’ll wean you off, just like before.” Connors removed a bottle from his bag and poured a half glass. He handed it to Xavier.

Xavier’s hand trembled as he reached for the liquid opiate. “Connors, don’t question Vic’s gender. Just let him be. He’s the best thing that has ever happened to me and I don’t want you frightening him off.”

Connors smiled. “I don’t think that would even be possible, but the matter is dropped. Now drink your medicine and rest.”

Xavier tipped the glass and swallowed the contents in a single gulp. He waited for the gentle clouds to carry him away from his pain.

Chapter 19

Gregory arrived with breakfast for all and chicken broth for Xavier. However, after one sniff of Vic, the bossy butler went into a tizzy. “Vic, you have put off bathing for too long. The people outside waiting to return to their homes are a cleaner lot than you.”

Everyone agreed with that observation, even Mr. Tubs. Vic looked at Xavier. She hated to leave him.

“He’ll be asleep for hours,” Connors assured her.

She sighed and nodded at Davy to take her home.

When she arrived, Claire waited with two tubs of water for her. Evidently, Gregory had warned Claire that Vic needed a ‘pre-bath’ in a tin tub brought up from the servants’ quarters before having a soak in their full-length, cast iron tub.

Still, Claire was not prepared for the true extent of Vic’s malodorous state. “My God, I’ve smelt pigs less repulsive. What on earth have you been doing?”

“I have been working,” Vic snapped. “And why are you not at Alice’s estate sorting out the servants? I give you one job, and what do you do? Run home to complain I’m a bit dirty.”

“A bit dirty? That’s rather like saying the Thames is a bit murky. Vic, you smell so vile, you are making me physically ill.”

In the privacy of the bath, with only Claire to assist, Vic removed her clothes and stepped into the pre-bath tin tub.

“You know, this wouldn’t have been necessary if we’d only put in a shower above our tub.”

“Gregory doesn’t approve of them.”

“We’ll I wasn’t suggesting we put one in his palace. I meant here in our bathing room.” As the warmth seeped into her aching muscles, she sighed with happiness and stopped complaining. She took a deep breath, scrunched up, and slipped her head beneath the two feet of water so she didn’t have to hear Claire’s continued complaints about her filthy state.

She didn’t open her eyes beneath the water because Claire had poured a half a box of soap powder in the tub. When she rose for air, she demanded a clean washcloth to wipe her eyes free of the soap.

“I cannot believe you are complaining about soap when you are covered in filth.”

“Well the filth won’t burn my eyes from their sockets. However, you put enough soap in the water to permanently blind me.”

Claire laughed and handed her a fresh washcloth as she continued to scrub Vic clean. “I don’t understand how a person can get so dirty. When was the last time you bathed?”

Vic really didn’t wish to answer that question. As poor and ancient as their bathing room might be, Xavier’s was nonexistent. Nor did he have servants to heat and port the water.

Given the difficulty in preparing a decent bath at his place, she may have skipped one or two of her weekly baths.

Xavier would have probably commented two weeks ago when he showed up to make love to her, except he smelled worse than she did.

“Vic, unless you want the reputation of being Xavier Thorn’s very bright but odoriferous apprentice, then you need to bathe every day.”

“Every day? I don’t have time to wash every day. People depend on me to save their lives. Am I supposed to say, ‘Sorry, I would love to help, but unfortunately, I am taking my daily bath’? Just because you have time to take baths every day, do not presume my life is equally as idle.”

By Claire’s pained expression, Vic realized her verbal jab had driven too deep. “Claire, I’m sorry.”

“No. You are most correct. My life is far less important than your exciting adventures. I go nowhere but to my laboratory, do nothing but read scientific journals, and see no one but our household staff.”

That her sister was unhappy with life stunned Vic to the core. Why hadn’t she said anything? She could go out, or invite people over.

Except the last people her sister entertained, Vic had frightened away. Guilt pushed its way into her thoughts. She had not considered that her efforts to remove obnoxious suitors might cause her sister’s place in society to fall when the word spread she had no dowry.

“Claire, I’m sorry. Not just for my words now, but for any actions I have done to worsen your life.”

After several sniffs, her sister shrugged and gave a weak smile. “You are not the source of my problems.” She focused on the bath water, now the same murky brown color as the Thames. “It’s time to change baths.”

The tubs were set side by side, so Vic stood and step into the other. “The pre-bath was a very good idea. But if we had a shower, it would not have been necessary.”

Claire sprinkled a lightly masculine perfumed soap powder in the water. She then scrubbed Vic’s short hair with a special hair soap and tonic. “It is I who should apologize for constantly scolding you. I admit, I envy your grand life. I resented that when Xavier disappeared, you still had a purpose, while I had nothing.”

Vic frowned at their conversations new direction. Xavier had long ago sworn he had no interest in Claire, but Claire seemed to being hinting otherwise. “Exactly what are you saying?”

Edging closer, her sister whispered, “This must remain strictly between us. Xavier would never forgive me if he knew I told you.”

A jealous anger bubbled up and threatened to erupt. She’d never liked Xavier spending time with Claire. Everyone had always favored her sister. And while Xavier wouldn’t give a whit about her sister’s beautiful face or petite figure, he would find her brilliant mind fascinating, possibly more so than he found Vic’s. “What are you saying?”

“Xavier sometimes brings me challenges to work on. Such as, how might a human make themselves disappear, or how to make your tracking device safer. Then my work in the lab has purpose. I’m searching the answer for something that will make a difference. However, when Xavier stopped coming a month and half ago, I had nothing to do in my lab. I am no longer content playing with chemicals for no reason. That’s why I put out the rumor I was wealthy and flirted with educated men. I am searching for a purpose to my life.”

Relieved there was nothing more between the two than what she already knew, Vic relaxed. While she did not like it, she had come to terms with the fact that Xavier would never ignore a useful resource when it came to protecting Britain. “Is my hair clean yet?”

“I suppose.”

She dunked under the water, scrubbed her hair free of the soap and returned to the surface.

“Silly, I had fresh water available to rinse your hair.”

“Good, pour it in my eyes!” Vic demanded as she grimaced in pain from the soap.

“How can you be so extraordinary and such a silly baby at the same time?”

“Xavier says I’m the product of our modern indulgent lifestyle. Young men grow up physically, but mentally we remain children…or ‘pups’ as he is prone to say.”

Claire poured the water over Vic’s head and face. “He may have something there. When I compare you to those two young men who came to dinner, you proved the better in all ways. While you may be prone to childish outbursts, you are never intentionally cruel or crude. And the amazing and important feats you do…” Claire sighed and set down the empty pitcher. She held out a large towel as Victor stood.

Wrapping the towel around her, Vic stepped from the tub. “You have an important job, as well, Claire.” Vic frowned. “Unless Gregory botched his assignment and didn’t deliver you nearly a hundred servants to find placements.”

Claire laughed softly. “I will never tell Gregory you suggested he might ‘botch’ a job. The servants safely arrived at the estate, and Mrs. Collins, as she now prefers to be called, is using her suffragette connections to find them homes.” Claire walked to the window and pretended to peek out the window. Vic realized her sister was using the curtain to blot her tears.

Once Claire finished mauling the curtain, she continued. “After we sorted them out, I was of no further use. I have no contacts in society. Other than Alice and Mrs. Collins, I cannot name a man or woman who will speak to me if we pass on the street.”

Her heart sank to the floor. “Because I said we were poor?”

Claire continued to peek through the curtains as she dried her eyes again. “I have been on the edge of acceptability since Aunt Maddy’s death. My lack of supervision…”

“Supervision for what? You stayed in the house for an entire year of mourning!”

“Not entirely. I went to the library several times a week.”

“God forbid, you might wish to read something.” Vic finished drying off and grabbed a clean muslin anaconda shirt. She struggled to pull it over her head. “Can you give me a hand here?”

Claire came to her rescue and tugged the sleeveless undergarment into place as she explained the objections to her library visits. “Some of the matrons coerced the librarian to keep a record of the books I borrowed, none of which met their approval. They were equally appalled you had not hired an older female ‘companion’ to accompany me.

“A pious old biddy to spy and tattle on us from within our home? Not a chance!” Vic slipped on freshly pressed trousers. She liked the feel of clean clothes.

“And your occupation and frequent absence from the house was held against me. Then Xavier’s visits…”

She said this last so soft Vic barely heard her. Vic frowned. “Those visits were all professional.” She said this as a statement of fact, but she needed Claire to confirm it true. She slipped on her shirt and buttoned it as she awaited her sister’s response.

“Yes, but the ladies assumed otherwise, and they liked nothing about it. The visits occurred at odd hours, frequently un-chaperoned, and with a man they consider unsuitable for a young lady of society.”

“Claire, I had no idea. Why did you not tell me you were so unhappy?”

She sighed. “Because I wasn’t. I was very contented with my life. I had a man I loved…”

“Jonas.” Vic said firmly, wanting to ensure the man Claire loved was her servant and not Xavier.

“My sweet Jonas. I’m teaching him chemistry. He hates it, but he tries his hardest to learn.” Claire turned to Vic. “What if I’ve made a mistake, Vic? What if I cannot do this?”

Her question stunned Vic to her core. She hoped Claire wasn’t saying she wanted to change genders so she could work for Xavier, because that would not do!

“What if I’ve change my mind and wish to marry a gentleman?”

Vic felt both relief and concern: Relief that Claire did not covet her place in life, but worry Claire would like marriage even less than her current situation.

She went to her sister and embraced her.

Claire rested her head on Vic’s clean shirt, dampening it with tears. “Everyone has a purpose except for me. Alice has an estate she runs all on her own, and now a handsome pirate to warm her bed at night…”

Vic pushed her back so she could see her face. “Pirate? What pirate?”

Claire laughed softly. “No one for you to arrest. Despite his unruly long hair and a penchant for bright colored silk shirts, he is as gracious and well-mannered as any man I’ve met.”

“Does he also laugh an excessive amount?”

“How did you…” Claire smiled. “Of course, you know him. He saved Mrs. Collins.”

Vic almost pointed out she had some part in saving Mrs. Collins, but let it be. She would sound petty. “Jacko, the laughing pirate. Yes, I know him.”

“Alice is besotted. However, Mrs. Collins is worried.”

Vic sighed with disappointment that Mrs. Collins would judge Jacko by his gypsy blood, rather than by his proven good character. “Jacko is completely reliable. We once had him move a very expensive stable of horses to France and he refrained from stealing a one. In fact, he is a man of business, with an office in the New Royal Exchange.”

Claire smiled as she stroked Vic’s cheek. “Settle down, Vic. Mrs. Collins is only concerned because he has stolen Alice’s heart and she fears if he leaves, her daughter will never recover.”

Vic still worried. “That seems inevitable, but not for any fault of Jacko’s. If society disowned you for the lack of a chaperone, just imagine how an affair with a gypsy pirate will rile them.”

“Alice suspects they will drop her entirely. She says this with great anticipation, claiming she looks forward to removing complications and tiresome chores from her life. She just wants to run her estate, spend time with her mother, and enjoy her handsome pirate.”

“She’s right. Why should she care what society thinks,” Vic insisted, wanting her sister to feel the same.

“Yes, but she has something to do!”

“Well, marrying a gentleman isn’t going to solve your problem. He will just dismantle your laboratory the day after your wedding.”

“Depends upon the gentleman,” Claire replied with caution, which alerted Vic she would not like her sister’s choice of gentlemen.

Vic’s eyes narrowed. “Well, the only gentleman I know who would allow you to run amuck is Xavier, and he does not want a wife.”

She could tell by the flush on his sister’s cheeks Xavier was precisely the gentleman she wanted to marry. Jealousy roiled within her. “You are not marrying the man I love, Claire, and that is final.”

“It would not be a real marriage. He would have you and I would have Jonas. However, it would allow me to have children and—”

“No!” Vic yelled. “You will not steal Xavier from me. You were happy before you set your eyes on him, you will be happy again, but not with Xavier. He is mine, and that is final!”

Victor stormed from the room and headed downstairs, cursing Claire beneath her breath. Mrs. Yarrows caught her at the door and brushed her wet hair down.

“Wouldn’t want it to dry that way,” the woman said and then kissed Vic on the cheek. “How is your Mr. Thorn?”

“My Mr. Thorn is on the mend. Thank you for inquiring.” At least Mrs. Yarrows understands who belongs to whom!

Chapter 20

When Vic returned, Xavier was awake and cursing someone a blue streak about being bloody useless. She hoped it wasn’t Mr. Tubs. She had promised him a nicer boss than his prior ones.

She smiled with relief when she saw Inspector Stone was the recipient of the blistering scold.

She climbed onto Xavier’s bed and snuggled up against him.

That stopped his bellowing while he whispered in her ear, “Pup, apprentices do not normally cuddle up against their masters. You are shocking Stone to his teeth.”

Vic laughed and replied in Xavier’s ear, “Employer! And Stone already knows we share the same bed. He saw my clothes in your closet.”

Xavier turned and yelled at Stone. “You searched my private living space?”

Stone glared at Vic and sighed. “I had to verify you were not there. I had no choice in the matter.”

“Well, I expect you to keep whatever you think you have learned from your illegal search private.”

“That goes without saying. We are all entitled to our private lives.”

Vic smiled in appreciation and Xavier cuffed her head. “Don’t smile at him. He is releasing your murderer.”

Her mouth dropped in outrage as she sat up. “You are letting Mr. Carson go free?”

Stone rubbed his temple and grimaced. “The prosecutor refuses to try the case. I’m sorry, Victor. You are correct that the laws should protect all, but the woman who was murdered had lived over twenty years in the asylum. She had no family or friends and the warden says she had not spoken a word in the last ten years. Honestly, death was probably a kindness.”

“So that makes it all right to murder her? Can you not charge the bastard with attempted murder of Mrs. Carson? He certainly attempted to murder his wife. His assassin just made a mistake and killed the wrong lady.”

After a long moment of consideration, a faint smile appeared on the inspector’s face. “Interesting angle. I’ll talk to the prosecutor.”

“Then go do it!” Xavier snapped. “I need to talk to my pup in private.”

With a look of pity thrown in her direction, Stone left the room. The moment the door closed, Xavier’s hand wrapped around her neck and tightened sufficiently that she suspected the inspector had spilled his guts about her cases.

Xavier’s voice was very soft when he spoke. “Stone says you caused a riot in Bedlam that required police from five districts to quell the inmates. Were you harmed in the process?”

“A few scratches on my back and arms.” She grimaced. “One of the women I released was actually crazy.”

“And how did you come to be in Dragon’s Cloud?”

She frowned. “That was not my fault.” She began her explanation with the case of a lost servant and ended it with light-footed Mr. Tubs abducting her. She focused on Mr. Tubs’ skills during the abduction. “He is a very large man, yet he picked the back door lock and walked up behind me without a single creak of those boards. And was Jonston grateful? Not at all! He yelled at poor Tubs for not following instructions.”

A small smile crept to Xavier’s lips. “I am well aware of Sonny Tubs’ skills. Now, when exactly did you two become friends?”

“In Dragon’s Cloud. I was trying to trick him into untying me, but he wouldn’t fall for it. However, in my process of trying, we discovered not only a mutual respect for each other, but an understanding. Neither of us received very much appreciation for our hard work.”

Xavier’s brows rose.

“I’m not talking about you! My problem was with Gregory, Claire, and Davy. No one wanted to let me do my job, and when I did, all I received was slaps on the head with a paper, scoldings, and disgruntled glares. I understood poor Mr. Tubs’ plight very well.”

“So you offered him a job?”

“Not then. He would have interpreted a job offer then as a blatant attempt of bribery. Such an obvious ploy would have insulted him. I only hoped Mr. Tubs liked me enough that when Jonston tried to ‘break me in,’ he’d twist the cretin’s neck before he had the chance.”

His thumb stroked Vic’s high cheekbone with affection. “That was excellent thinking. And if it’s of some consolation, from my discussion with Tubs, he would have done just that.”

“Fortunately, the army arrived, so he didn’t have to choose between our friendship and his code of ethics.”

“He said you saved his life…”

“I just told him to leave if he could. However, I did ask him where the other special guest was held.” She frowned. “I’m not sure we would have found you without Mr. Tubs’ directions. I only found the room by kicking a hole in the closet wall.”

“But I was no longer there. How did that help you?”

“Had I not seen your blood on the mattress and smelled the scent of infection, I would not have searched for doctors who tend bullet wounds without questions.”

“Excellent deductive reasoning. And I’m pleased with your hire. He’ll make a fine addition to our staff. In fact, I’ve already given him his first assignment.”

“What assignment?” Vic did not think Xavier well enough to take on any responsibilities just yet.

“Jacko stopped by today. He’s lost his heart to some lady and intends to marry her.”

“Yes, I know. It’s Alice Collins, the daughter of Mrs. Carson, the woman he saved.” She then paused. “I believe they are well suited for each other. They have much in common.”

Xavier’s brow wrinkled. “Really? Such as what?”

She was about to mention their propensity to laugh at her, but realized Xavier merely wished to distract her with his question. “What task have you given Tubs?”

“To watch over Pete.”

“And who is Pete?”

“Our newest employee. Small little chap, but I expect he’ll grow if Tubs can keep him safe.”

She was about to object to Xavier hiring without her input, but changed her mind. If Tubs was watching the boy, he couldn’t watch her, which suited her fine. Still she failed to see how Xavier had come to hire anyone as he laid in his sick bed, surrounded by a hundred soldiers and agents. “How long have you known this Pete fellow?”

“Only met him today, but he’s a charmer. You could take lessons from the boy. He brought Jacko some valuable news about the direction I had been taken‒”

“Oh, that boy.” She paused, recalling the spunky fellow who tried to warn her off when she had entered Jacko’s office. “He’s very young.”

“Yes, with time I imagine that will improve.”

“That is oddly obliging of you.” Vic wondered what made this boy special.

“Well, to be honest, Jacko tried to hire him, but he made the mistake of paying the boy too much, and Pete’s mother grew suspicious of our pirate’s intentions.”

“Shall I bring the woman here so you can tell her Jacko is a very reliable sort of fellow?”

“Who will be occupied with his new love? No, Jacko asked me to take the boy on, and given all the favors he has tallied during my absence, I had no choice but to agree. Thus, Pete’s mother arrived an hour ago, and we came to an agreement both in pay and responsibilities.”

“Barnacle is going to be devastated.”

“He survived your arrival, I’m sure he’ll weather Pete’s. The boy’s job will be to deliver messages, nothing more, and Tubs is to verify the address can be reached safely or go with him.”

Thinking of the promise she had made to the giant, she objected. “That is not a very good utilization of Tubs’ skills.”

Xavier chuckled. “I’ve no doubt keeping watch over you will be more than sufficient challenge.”

Realizing she had not lost her chaperone, her outrage erupted. “I do not need to be watched over!” She had run the office for a month without him, saved Mrs. Carson, a hundred servants, plus located Xavier. How dare he try to clip her wings now.

He tugged her closer. “I have asked him to protect the item I cherish more than life itself. He understands the importance of his job and looks forward to the duty.”

His intense look of love quelled her further objections. “Well, he’s better than Davy. At least he won’t mother me to death.”

As if intending to kiss her, Xavier ran his hand through her short blonde hair and pulled her to him.

Vic closed her eyes and waited in happy anticipation for his lips. When nothing happened, her eyes popped open. Upon seeing the humor in his face and realizing he had no intention of kissing, her frustration found voice. “I brushed my teeth, Claire gave me two baths, and Mrs. Yarrows patted down my hair. What more do you want?”

After kissing both her hands, he explained, “Well, your cleanliness is most inspiring, but I have received none of those ablutions.”

Vic climbed off the bed, and located the gentleman’s bag Gregory had left for her. After mixing the paste, she ordered Xavier to open his mouth. “We will have you kissable in no time at all.”

While she brushed his teeth, she told him about Claire’s foolish idea to marry him. He choked at the idea and breathed toothpaste into his lungs, sending him into a fit of coughs.

She ran to the door. “Dr. Connors, Xavier needs you!”

The doctor hurried to Xavier. “What happened?”

“He breathed in toothpaste.”

Connors chuckled. “That won’t kill him. Let’s try to sit him up so he can clear his lungs.”

Xavier released a string of curses as he sat up. Vic cringed. If only she hadn’t mentioned Claire’s idea.

Connors must have noticed she flinched. “It’s the pain talking, not Xavier,” he said as he pounded his back until the coughs ended. Then he poured his patient a large quantity of medicine, which Xavier downed before Vic could intervene.

“What did you just give him?”

“Ummm…cough syrup.”

She knew at once Connors was lying, but before she could climb from the bed and investigate, Xavier grabbed her by the arm. “Connors, leave!” he snapped and waited until the door closed. “Vic. Listen carefully. There is only one person I would ever marry and it’s not Claire. And while Gregory and Jonas may jump to her will, I am not inclined. I don’t know what prompted her to suggest such a scheme, other than to rile you up, but her suggestion is inconceivable. There is no one other than you. There never will be.”

Vic beamed with happiness and kissed him. He responded for a moment, but then faded into unconsciousness.

She frowned as she pondered the taste of liquid she had captured from his mouth. She climbed from the bed and searched the doctor’s bag for the bottle. When she read the label, her temper exploded. “Opiate! Dr. Connors, get in here now!”

He entered and frowned. “You’ve no right to go in my bag!”

“And you have no right to give him a half bottle of opiate. Are you aware all forms of this drug are addictive?”

“I’m a doctor. Of course, I am aware.”

“Then why….” She stopped as she recalled the pervading odor of pigeon poop in Dragon’s Cloud, including in Xavier’s hidden room. “They gave him opium to keep him sedated.”

The doctor hesitated before replying, “They gave him opium.”

Vic’s eyes narrowed. His reply was firm. But his eyes flitted to the right, indicating he knew something more. “Was it for his wound?”

“Ummm, possibly,” Connors replied.

Vic glared at him. “I don’t have time for twenty questions! Why did they give him the drug?”

“Why ask me? Wait and interrogate Xavier when he wakes up.”

“How long will he be asleep?”

“Four hours or so.”

“By the amount of opiate you gave him, may I presume he is already addicted?”

“Yes, but don’t worry. We will wean him off. I’m an old hand at this.”

Vic’s eyes narrowed. “Has Xavier been addicted to opium before?”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because Sherlock Holmes has a cocaine addiction.”

Connors sighed and shook his head. “I’m out of my league, so stop interrogating me. Wait and ask Xavier when he wakes. And please do not lead him to believe I told you anything, because I haven’t. However, that doesn’t seem to stop you from pulling the answers from mid-air. I now understand how you came to discover Xavier’s whereabouts when no one else could.”

Vic couldn’t remain angry when he had sincerely spoken so many wonderful compliments in a row.

Chapter 21

Vic had fallen asleep fully clothed beside Xavier. Thus, her rest was not easy, as she dreamed a giant snake squeezed her to death.

When a slight creak of the door sounded, she bolted upright, ready to fight to death whoever had come to harm her barely alive partner. She relaxed at the sight of a very distressed Jacko. “Jacko what’s wrong?” His clothes were wrinkled to a disturbing degree and his face reflected the torment of hell.

“Nothing, go back to sleep,” Jacko whispered.

“Who can sleep with a mystery afoot?” Xavier opened his eyes and glared. “Stop teasing my pup with early morning bones. Get in here and let him interrogate you.”

Jacko entered and closed the door. “There is no mystery. I apologize for waking you. I was in the neighborhood—”

“Bullocks, you were headed out to Litchfield this afternoon. What happened?” Xavier’s voice softened on his last words.

Determined Jacko would not escape without explaining, she jumped out of bed, snared his arm and led him to a chair. “Have you been to Litchfield and back again?”

Jacko nodded in misery.

“On the same horse?” Vic pulled out her watch and studied the time. He must have run the poor animal full out.

He nodded again.

“Is it still alive?”

He nodded.

“Are Alice and Mrs. Hamilton all right?”

Jacko looked to Xavier.

“Vic, perhaps you should go downstairs and check on the horse while I give Jacko a severe lecture on proper treatment of his mount.”

Vic rolled his eyes. Something serious had happened to their useful pirate, but once again, she was being sent from the room like a worthless apprentice. “I’ll go see to your horse.” She’d get the truth out of Xavier later.

As she approached the head-lowered horse, she gasped at the foam about its mouth and white-crusted sweat upon its flank and neck. She turned to a soldier. “Do you have any food and water for this animal?”

“We do, but it’s for Davy’s horse.”

“Well, Marybell wants to share. Bring me water and food at once.” Her temper resonated into her words, making it sound more like an order than a request. The soldier jumped to her bidding. She put that bit of knowledge away. When dealing with soldiers, snap orders.

She tentatively approached the animal.

It snorted and showed its teeth. Seemed an ill-tempered fellow, but she couldn’t blame him, given the abuse he’d taken.

“I’m sorry you were run so. Jacko is normally a better man than this.”

The soldier returned with two buckets. One with water and one with grain. However, when he leaned down and placed them before the horse, he received a severe bite upon his thigh. “Bloody hell!”

The man leapt back and glared at the horse before storming off. Vic prayed he wasn’t going to get his gun.

“You shouldn’t bite people trying to help you.”

The horse ignored her as it gulped down the water. In less than a minute, the bucket was empty. It knocked the pail over with its hoof and whinnied at her.

“I better check with Davy about how much water you can have.” She turned and headed inside, all the while thinking of the horse’s state. The exhausted creature was nearly dead. Jacko had no excuse treating a horse like that!

Instead of waking Davy, she stormed into Xavier’s room and punched Jacko on the arm. “Unless you were escaping imminent death, you shouldn’t have treated your horse so poorly.”

Jacko backed away from Victor. “You are right and I will go to him now.” He glanced at Xavier. “All right if I ask Davy to care for my steed while I’m gone?”

Victor was not so ready to forgive him. “Where are you going?”

He smiled as he tucked a letter into his vest. “Spain, probably for several weeks.”

“Why?”

“On a mission. I can say no more, except my ship leaves at four.”

Given his inability to explain his mission, she assumed he was doing something for his country, something Xavier would be doing if he were well enough.

Vic glanced at the clock. “Wake Davy so he can take you. And don’t worry about your horse.”

He nodded his appreciation to Xavier and hurried out.

She collapsed on the bed.

“Was his mount still alive?”

“Just barely.”

“Don’t worry. Davy will nurse it back to health.”

“Hope it’s more appreciative to Davy than it was to the soldier it bit.”

Xavier tugged her to his chest. “Let’s try to sleep, so Connors doesn’t change his mind about moving me this morning.”

Vic wanted to interrogate him over Jacko, but he did need his sleep and if the fellow acted for the country, he couldn’t share the mission anyway.

***

At ten o’clock, Dr. Connors determined Xavier was well enough to return home. Connors gave him a heavy dose of laudanum before Mr. Tubs gently carried him down the narrow steps of the tenant building to the carriage Davy had modified to hold a prone body.

A crowd of people cheered upon sight of him. At first, Vic wished Xavier was awake to see the cheering crowd, but changed her mind as she listened to the words accompanying their applause.

“A pox on you all. You’ve no right takin’ a body’s home from them.”

“We pay hard earned money for our homes that you threw us out of. And will anyone pay us for our loss…hell no!”

“If my rabbit died while I was kept off, I’ll pay you back, I swear I will,” an angry little boy declared with a shaking fist as they drove off.

Vic stared out the window and then looked at Dr. Connors examining Xavier’s wound to ensure the move hadn’t opened it. “Their complaints are not unreasonable. Will they be reimbursed for their rents?”

“I doubt it.”

His answer annoyed her. Not just because it was not the answer she wanted, but because his tone suggested it was a ridiculous question. “How much is their rent?”

“I have no idea.”

“I’ll ask Mr. Tubs. He’ll know. He knows many useful bits of information.”

Such as why Xavier was now addicted to opium. Evidently, the alpha dog criminal of the London docks, Seth Sojourn, believed addicting people an effective way to lessen the troubles they caused him. In many cases, desperate for a continued supply of the drug, these men would do favors for the crime lord even as they pretended to fight him.

While she resented Seth addicting Xavier to opium, as Mr. Tubs observed, an addiction was less permanent than death.

She glanced at Xavier, lying on the pallet spanning across both seats. He looked oblivious to the discomfort of his move. At least the drug relieved him from the suffering.

“How long before you wean him from the opium?”

Dr. Connors ceased his examination and focused on her. “That will take months, and I should warn you, he will frequently be out of temper.”

That didn’t worry her. “He’s always out of temper. The world refuses to cooperate with his wishes. And after a month of walking in his shoes, I understand his annoyance better than ever.” She shook her head as she recalled several of her cases. “Can you believe clients will come to us for help and purposely leave out the critical parts to their case?”

Connors leaned back and nodded. “They do the same to me. They will ask for a tonic to cure their stomach ache, failing to mention their fever and extreme tenderness on their right side.”

Vic sighed in commiseration. “Why is it so hard to help people?”

“I’ve given up asking that question. I simply assume everyone is lying and go about my job.”

“At least, Xavier didn’t lie to you.”

“No, he was unconscious during my first exam. However, once the craving for opium takes control, he’ll claim pains he doesn’t have so we’ll give him the drug he craves.”

Not wanting to insult a man who had proven vital in saving Xavier, she held her tongue. Yet, she knew her dark haired, hawk-nose partner. Opium could not undermine his strong character.

***

Time proved Dr. Connors’ warning all too accurate. Xavier adamantly refused to reduce the amount of opiate, even though by the second week, his wound appeared on the mend. He insisted he was in worse pain than ever.

Vic had naively believed she knew the worst of his temper from her year of employment, but this new level of anger seared her soul. After Davy found her in the kitchen crying for the third time in one day, he knelt down before her and took her hands.

“Vic, you gotta let me care for him.”

“No, I’ll—”

“This ain’t good for either of you! He needs somebody he can yell at without hurting. He needs me. You pride yourself about picking the best skilled person for a task. Well, I’m the best person for this job.”

Vic shook her head. “He’ll bully you into giving him more opiate.”

“No, he won’t. I’ve done this before.”

“Done what?” Her head popped up as she tried to make sense of his words.

“Weaned him off the drug.”

“When?”

“Through the years.”

“How many times?”

Davy sighed. “This will make five. And every time it gets harder for him. This isn’t a time for you to cut teeth. You need an experienced person.”

A swell of relief overcame her as she nodded in agreement, and then it turned to shame. She shouldn’t give in so easy. He was her partner. She should be able to go through hell for him.

The truth was she wanted out. Seeing him in torment left her so helpless. And now Davy wanted to save her from this hell. But was he telling the truth when he said he could do the job, or just trying to spare her. She met his eyes. “If you’ve known you were better, why didn’t you say anything before now?”

“I’d hoped you’d pull him out faster, but you aren’t. You’re just making him hate himself for the ugly things he says. I need to take over now and get the job done professional like.”

Vic threw her arms around Davy’s neck and sobbed in helpless frustration. Then she released him, breathed in deep and stood. Davy rose as well, his eyes filled with worry.

After two deep sniffles, and drying her eyes on a sleeve of her shirt, she looked up at him. “I’m going to go downstairs and get the office in order. Then maybe I’ll go out and rustle up some business.”

“That’s a good idea. And I’ll take care of Xavier. I’m good at this.”

She hugged him once more. “We are lucky to have you.”

“I’ll remind you of that the next time you give me trouble,” he muttered as he patted her back.

She went downstairs and found their newest employee, Benjamin, making an appointment for a prospective client. By the worry and panic in the old woman’s face, she could tell the business was urgent.

“That’s all right, Ben. I’ll speak to—” she glanced down at Ben’s neat and legible handwriting, “Mrs. Eaton, now.”

“But—” Ben’s eyes rounded, clearly shocked she intended to break the twenty-four hour appointment rule.

Vic ignored him. “I sense this is an urgent case, so we will set aside the appointment rules in this one instant.”

The woman gripped Vic’s arm. “Oh, thank you, young man. You are correct. The matter is urgent! Life and death, urgent!”

Cheered by Mrs. Eaton’s words, Vic led her into the office.

Chapter 22

Xavier woke in pain. His body shook from his craving for opium. “Vic, call Connors. Something is wrong. The pain is worse.”

A large hand, not belonging to Vic, felt his forehead. “That’s just the opium talking.”

Xavier opened his eyes and glared at Davy. “Don’t tell me what I’m feeling. Connors has mucked the business up. My wound is infected.”

Davy sighed and sat down on the bed.

“Where’s Vic?”

“I fired him.”

Xavier bolted upright. “You what? On whose authority? You had no right to fire Vic!” He stopped yelling and glared at Davy. “Nor would he allow it. Now stop playing games and bring him in here.”

Davy didn’t budge. “I fired Vic from taking care of you. I convinced him I was better skilled at this particular job.”

“Well, you’re wrong. I much prefer Vic over you.”

“You prefer hurting him? You prefer him crying his eyes out in the kitchen?”

His question struck deep. Xavier recalled the vile acidic curses of his last waking. “I didn’t mean the things I said. Surely Vic knows that.”

“He does, but it still hurts him. He’s not as thick skinned as I am. This is my job for here on, and that’s final.”

“Bring Vic up here.”

Davy sighed. “Can’t do it.”

“I just want to talk to him, to explain I didn’t mean anything—”

“He’s out on a case.”

“What case? Did Tubs go with him?”

Davy shook his head.

“Why the hell not? That’s his job!”

Davy smiled. “I asked him the same thing. He pointed to the client’s reason for the visit logged in the appointment book.”

“Which was?” Xavier had no patience for this cat and mouse answer process.

Davy ducked his head and muttered something that sounded like ‘lost pet.’

“Vic took on a case of a missing pet? Why didn’t you stop him? If Doyle gets wind of this I’ll be the laughing stock of London!”

Xavier pushed Davy from his seat on the bed. “Help me up!”

“First tell me where you are planning to go.”

Xavier was not accustomed to Davy challenging his orders, and he left no doubt of his outrage in his reply. “To my office, damn your insolent hide! I need to review the cases this scamp has been taking on. And then you and I will review exactly who is master.”

“Employer,” Davy grumbled and walked to the door.

“Where the hell are you going? Come back here and assist me. I am one foot in the grave. Do you think I’ll make it down those steps on my own?”

“I seriously doubt it.” Davy leaned out the door and called for Tubs.

When the man arrived, Davy pointed to Xavier. “Our boss wishes to go downstairs to his office.”

Tubs smiled, displaying a frightening row of rotted and broken teeth.

“Don’t smile around the clients, Tubs. You’ll scare them to death,” Xavier scolded as the giant lifted him up as if he was nothing more than a long legged child. “Put me down, damn it, I can walk!”

“No, he can’t,” Davy countered. “Just hurry downstairs with him.”

Tubs jumped to Davy’s command.

“Here now, you work for me, not Davy. Put me down and let me walk!”

Xavier stopped yelling because they were already downstairs so the point was moot. Vic was correct. The fellow was amazingly fast and light-footed.

Once Xavier was out of Tubs’ arms and seated in his chair, he regained his dignity. “Thank you, Mr. Tubs. In the future, I ask you to remember who runs this office. Now go retrieve the appointment book. I wish to see what mischief Vic has been into.”

Tubs left. A moment later, a young fellow entered and handed him the appointment book. The boy stood like soldier awaiting orders, except he wore a smile.

“Who the bloody blazes are you?” Xavier demanded and yelled for Davy. His driver arrived, his brow furrowed with concern.

“Who is this fellow smiling at me?”

“That’s Ben. Gregory hired him to keep the appointment book and ensure the office is open to receive clients while you two are out. Thought it a good idea, myself.”

“You did, did you? Oddly, I don’t agree.”

The boy lost his smile.

“I do not appreciate that while I clung to life by sheer will, my impertinent apprentice’s even more impertinent butler has the galling nerve to hire an employee for my office.” He glared at the boy. “You, sit, so I can determine if I wish to hire you or not.”

The boy threw himself in the chair with such speed it skidded three inches to the left.

Xavier frowned. “I appreciate your speed to follow orders, but do not scar my wood floors with your enthusiasm.”

The lad studied the floor and sighed with relief. “It’s fine, sir.”

Xavier was in too much pain and aggravation to smile, but he liked the fellow’s attitude. “So tell me the tasks Vic has set you to do?”

Sitting straight, he jutted out his chest and answered, “I am to arrive at seven, place the mail and paper upon Vic’s desk, open the door precisely at eight, prepare hot water for tea fifteen minutes prior to client meetings, and take appointments.”

“I trust Vic told you about the twenty-four hour rule?”

“Oh, yes, sir!”

“And what else?”

Ben frowned. “What else what?”

“What else do you do?”

“Nothing.”

Xavier managed a chuckle without too much pain. Vic was careful not to create her own rival. She just wanted off her chain so she could roam about during the day. “Well, I’m willing to give you a try. You may continue on.”

Ben smiled as if Xavier had promised him knighthood. After he left, Xavier called him back. He liked the boy’s speed and positive attitude on arrival—no snippy ‘what now?’ response. “When you gather the paper and mail. Precisely which desk do you place it upon?”

The boy pointed to his desk.

He snorted in outrage. “For the record. This is my desk. I allow Vic to use it on occasion, but never again refer to it as ‘Vic’s desk.’”

“Sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”

“Good. Off with you.” He opened the drawer and pulled the file labeled “Hamilton cases.” Now he would find out what his pup had been up to.

***

Several hours later, Davy opened the door. “Do you want your tonic now?”

“Growing soft, Davy?” Xavier looked up from his reading.

Davy chuckled. “I must be. Call me when you need it.”

Xavier returned to Vic’s detailed case notes. On several occasions he laughed, despite his pain. Especially when reading her notes on Mr. Robinson.

According to Robinson’s confession obtained during the interrogation by Scotland Yard, he had fallen into arrears with his creditors nineteen years ago. His butler, Jonston, suggested a lucrative business opportunity. After ‘months of moral dilemma,’ he concluded providing gentleman a means to relieve themselves of their unhealthy urges in a safe and clean environment was actually a service to society and in no means immoral or criminal in nature. He insisted any charges of abuse or abduction of the servants lay solely with Jonston, claiming he believed all the servants were legally employed and happy to work in the superior conditions of his household.

Xavier skimmed forward.

…For eighteen years, their partnership remained stable. Then on Aug 1, 1894, Mary learned her father was Mr. Robinson.

Her righteous anger over her treatment triggered the downfall of all of her parents (real or not). Given that they all failed their parental duties to an astonishing degree, I must say, I find great satisfaction in this.

Xavier chuckled. “You would.”

Due to my youth, Jonston considered me harmless. By threatening him with the arrival of my boss if I could not perform my interviews, I gained access to the servants and uncovered their perfidious sex slave business in a single visit.

“Well done, indeed.” Her intuitive and interview skills never ceased to amaze him.

I must be honest. At this point, my concern turned to saving all the servants. Upon the discovery one of the servants was my cook’s niece, I lost all interest in Mary Campbell (having determined she resided willingly with her mother at Dragon’s Cloud.)

However, their attempt to extort thirty-thousand pounds from Mr. Robison for Mary’s return gave me an excuse to return to the house. As for the ransom, I admit I was angry with Robinson, so I told him to pay it.

“Good for you,” Xavier said.

My concern focused on the servants, which I had determined Jonston planned to sell to Marconi and Salem.

Unfortunately, in my haste to rescue the youths I made a grievous error in judgment. In retrospect, I cannot wish it were not so. I learned a valuable lesson when dealing with hostage situations that I will never forget. In addition, the consequences of my error (abduction and delivery to Dragon’s Cloud) enabled me to eventually discover Xavier’s location and acquire a highly skilled employee for our office. I hope when Xavier reads these notes, he will keep that in mind. I would also like to point out, had he been available for mentoring, I would have not made the error.

Xavier wondered how long she planned to drag out this damn confession. He knew she’d been abducted, he just wanted to know her mistake that caused it.

Someone knocked on the door to his office.

“What?” Xavier yelled. Good God, could they not wait until he finished?

Ben called out. Xavier could hear fear in his voice. “Sir, could you step out here please?”

Xavier reached into the drawer, withdrew his gun, and placed it in his lap. “No damn it, I cannot. I do not cater to you. You cater to me. Now open the door and tell me what you want!”

The door opened. Mr. Tubs entered in a stiff gait. Seth Sojourn followed, using him as a shield, which Tubs reluctantly allowed, due to the gun pressed against his neck.

Xavier considered the various options before him and decided to put his trust in Vic’s assessment of Tubs. He picked up his ink well and threw it at the ceiling above Tubs and Seth, showering both men with ink. He accompanied this action with an earth shattering bellow. “Do I come to your place of business without invitation? How dare you add disrespect to your list of crimes!”

As Xavier expected, Seth, who was incredibly vain about his looks, shielded his face from the ink and falling glass. In doing so, he forgot the skills of his hostage. Tubs, blackened by ink, tossed Seth’s gun onto Xavier’s desk and had the man’s arms twisted behind his back and secured in seconds.

Tubs looked more frightening than ever with half his face streaked black. Vic would not be pleased with the change, or his ruined suit. However, Xavier was very impressed with the man’s speed and quick thinking.

“Sorry about the ink, Tubs. Before you go clean up, please strip my uninvited guest of weapons.

Tubs evidently knew where to find all of Seth’s lethal toys. In less than a minute, a large arsenal cluttered Xavier’s desk. Xavier spent his time inspecting each item while Tubs located yet more.

“Don’t open this,” Tubs warned and set a corked test tube to one side.

Xavier placed it in his drawer and returned to playing with Seth’s other toys.

“He’s clean now.”

“Thank you, Tubs. Your assistance was invaluable. Go upstairs and try to clean yourself before you become permanently stained.”

By his furrowed brow, Xavier gathered Tubs didn’t want to leave, but after another glare at Seth, he followed orders.

Xavier motioned for his visitor to take a seat in the short-back wooden chair in front of his desk. “I’m glad you are here. I have several complaints I wish to lodge.”

“And I have one big complaint to lodge, as well,” Seth said in return.

“Well, since this is my office, I get to go first.” Xavier leaned forward and nailed Seth with his glare. “You played loose with our agreement and I demand compensation.”

“For what?”

“We agreed you would get me to a doctor so I wouldn’t die.” Xavier picked up a wickedly curved knife and tested its balance in his hand.

“Well, you are sitting at your desk in remarkably good health, so I clearly fulfilled the agreement.”

With a flick of his wrist, Xavier released the knife. It whizzed a breath away from Seth’s face and sliced into the wall behind him with a reverberating thud. “No, you did not. You left me with an incompetent fool who neither removed the lead bullet nor cleaned out the infection from my shoulder. The moment you left, the doctor packed his bags. I was but a breath away from death when my people arrived and saved my life.”

“I told him if you died, he died.”

“Then the fault is entirely yours. Even my experienced surgeon doubted he could save me. Because of your threat, your doctor didn’t even try. He just packed and ran, because you had waited too long for a man of his limited skill to succeed in keeping me alive.” Xavier picked up another knife and whizzed it by Seth’s other ear. “No matter how I look at this, the fault lies with you. You nearly killed me, and I want compensation.”

“I have nothing to give you! One business razed to the ground, and the other two are in shambles—I am struggling just to pay my men.”

Xavier smiled and picked up a curved Chinese blade. “Then my recompense will help you, as well. One less man to pay.” He then turned his attention to the circular blade. “I’ve never thrown one of these.”

“If it’s Tubs you want, forget it. The man betrayed me and he must die for that.”

Xavier threw the blade, and had Seth not ducked it would have struck the center of his forehead.

“Sorry, hopefully I’ll get the hang of throwing these soon.” He lifted up another circular blade. “What were we discussing? Oh yes, Tubs. Well, here’s the thing. I like the man. He’s well skilled, light on his feet, lightning fast, strong as an elephant, and very smart. To be honest, you were not utilizing his talents at all. I completely understand why he quit.”

“Quit?”

“I was in the room when he announced he quit. Guarding a corpse was simply beneath him. Thus, my secretary wisely offered him a job with us.”

“He can’t quit. I own him.”

“Once a competent doctor brought me back from the brink of death, I told Tubs you didn’t believe in employees quitting. You had some strange idea they belonged to you forever. And then I told him how you had botched our agreement, and would wish to make compensation by letting him work for me.”

Seth’s hands clenched in anger. “Then you told him wrong.”

Xavier threw another knife, this one slicing the tip of Seth’s right ear.

A string of curses spewed out as Seth clutched his wound.

Xavier lifted another blade. “Lucky that didn’t hit your face. I imagine these leave ugly scars.”

Seth hissed in frustrated fury. “You can have one of my men if you insist, just not Tubs.”

Xavier’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. Clearly, Seth had lost his mind. “I don’t want any of your men. I only want a man who has tired of working for you. All you’re going to do is kill him, which is not only a waste of your money, but bloody unfair since you never told him he couldn’t quit.” Xavier tried a different grip on the circular blade.

“Don’t throw that!” Seth warned. “What do you mean killing him is a waste of my money?”

“You owe me significant recompense. Unlike you, I actually value the man. But if you insist on killing him for breaking an unknown rule, then I’ll want ten thousand pounds.”

“Ten thousand! Are you insane?”

“No. I am addicted to opium and in great pain from my near lethal wound, but I am not insane. Angry? Yes. Angry enough to throw a lethal weapon?” Xavier laughed softly and smiled. “You have no idea the temptation…”

Seth growled. “If I give you Tubs, what do I get in return?”

“Your handsome face left intact?”

“My face won’t do me much good if I’m swimming in the Thames.”

“My refrain from killing you for the present,” Xavier offered.

“I need more than that. I need somebody to take out Conrad Sweeny.”

“Sorry, I’ll need to heal a bit more before I’m up to the task.”

“I realize that, but you have people who can do it. Tell them they can either do it now while I’m in charge, or they can wait until I’m dead and have a bloody nightmare on their hands.”

Xavier rolled his eyes. “Well, hopefully, they’ll listen better than you. Why didn’t you kill Conrad the first time you saw him as I advised?”

Seth leaned forward. “Because he is my brother, damn you! It might mean nothing to you. It clearly means nothing to Conrad, but he is my brother and I could not betray him on your word.”

Xavier almost felt pity for Seth. He could hear the pain in the bastard’s voice. He realized even now, Seth could not personally kill his half-brother. That’s why he wanted Xavier to do it.

“I’ll see what I can do, but I am making no promises. However, if you plan to leave this room with your face unharmed, then we need to come to terms on my recompense.”

“Will you take my letters for the money?”

“No.”

“Twenty percent interest?”

Xavier toyed with the blade. “No.”

Seth sighed. “Then you get Tubs.” He started to stand, but stopped at the sight of the blade in Xavier’s hand. “Are we done here?”

Xavier set down the blade. “I thank you for bringing me all these toys. But given your circumstances, I think you should take your gun back.” Xavier handed it to him.

Seth gave a bored sigh, as if these games had tired him to the bone. However, a second after he touched the barrel of the gun, he flipped it into his hand, aimed it at Xavier’s head and pulled the trigger.

The gun clicked.

Xavier smiled. “Glad to see you aimed for my ear. Otherwise, I might be inclined to rid the world of you now, before I ask my friends for a favor.” He held out his hand and showed Seth the bullets he had removed from the gun. “Tubs, are you out there?”

A low voice rumbled from the other side of the door. “Yes, sir.”

“Well, come in here and escort Seth out.”

The giant entered and took note of the blades and knives sticking in the back wall, and Seth’s bleeding ear.

“Tubs, I have wonderful news. Seth, accepts your resignation, and you are forthwith a free man to work where you like. However, I hope you will remain in my employ a long while.”

A black gruesome smile stretched across the man’s face.

Xavier handed him the bullets. “Give these to Seth once he’s in his carriage. He’ll probably need them on his way home.”

Xavier returned his attention to Seth. “I would give you suggestions on how to go forward, but I’m tired of having my advice ignored. So, let me just wish you luck and leave it at that.”

Once Seth was gone, Xavier resumed reading Vic’s notes where she finally described her erroneous actions. How could she make such a foolish misstep? Why had he never taught her proper procedure for rescuing multiple people?

But he knew why. He had always assumed when the moment came, he would be there with her, to teach her on the job.

He needed to assess and fill in these gaps of knowledge as soon as possible. Had she been harmed from this error, the fault would have been entirely his.

“Before this year is out, Vic, I will teach you everything I know. You will be ready for any circumstance.”

He took a deep breath and refocused on her notes.

My background on one of the servants held in Dragon’s Cloud enabled Inspector Stone to locate two nuns from the girl’s orphanage to go before the Queen and plead for intervention. I was not convinced Laura was the best choice since the Queen is reputed not to like Catholics. However, to Stone’s prediction, the Queen used this rescue to prove her issue was with the Pope, not her Catholic subjects.

The newspapers loved Laura, emphasizing her beauty and her continued commitment to God throughout her tribulations.

Because of the overwhelming public adoration for Laura, not only Jonston, but also Angela Campbell and Mr. Robinson were arrested for fifty-seven counts of abduction and enslavement. (Note: While there were ninety-eight slaves rescued, the prosecutor presented only the cases where the servants had pristine histories before their abductions.)

All three remain in jail awaiting their trials. If found guilty of all counts, they will spend the remainder of their lives in prison. I asked Stone to suggest to the prosecutor that all the servants enslaved should receive compensation for their years of unpaid service, funded by the sale of Robinson’s home and automobile. I remain hopeful.

And as to Mary Campbell, she disappeared along with Robinson’s thirty thousand pounds. She forged a letter of authority and collected the money from the bank on Friday. Ironically, Mr. Robinson planned to use the money to buy his release from jail. Unfortunately, his authorized person arrived two hours after Mary had claimed her prize.

Finding the missing servant, yet again, was a bit of a challenge. On a hunch, I followed the purchase trail of twenty miniature ponies and located her at a leased estate in Kensington. She was not pleased to see me, and if not for Mr. Tubs’ presence, I believe she would have tried to kill me to maintain the secret of her whereabouts. I assured her I had only come to verify she was fine and to close out my assignment.

She claims she intends to live a quiet life without any men in sight for the rest of her life. (Note: her staff consists only of young girls. I suspect she chose them because they are easier for a woman who looks like a child to command.)

Xavier shook his head. “My poor naïve Vic!”

I hope she succeeds in that endeavor, but given her rapid consumption of money and her propensity towards violence, I believe her future will not be so benign.

Xavier sighed. “I fear you are right. Nothing good comes from bad seed.”

He called for Davy.

Within a second, his driver stuck his head in the door.

“Davy. It is time for my tonic now.”

Chapter 23

Xavier was resting in the clouds admiring Vic’s floating face when a sharp slap pulled him from his dreams.

“Xavier, wake up. Why won’t he wake?” a familiar female voice demanded.

“Hit him again, and I’ll remove you,” Davy warned.

“Do you know who I am?”

“Yes ma’am, or otherwise, I wouldn’t have let you come up here at all. But being Victor’s sister doesn’t give you the right to hit Mr. Thorn.”

“I can have you fired,” she warned.

“No ma’am, you can’t.”

“We’ll see about that.”

The idea of pretending further sleep was tempting, but knowing Claire she’d probably wouldn’t leave until she scolded him for whatever she and Gregory disapproved of now. He opened on his eyes and struggled to focus on the beauty before him. “Claire, I’m trying to rest. Can this not wait until I’m better?”

While he’d thought her charming at first, either she’d worsened over the last year or he had begun to pick up the nuances that turn pleasant words into scolds, but in either case, he had grown annoyed with the constant harping poor Vic endured from her younger sister. Instead of answering him, Claire headed to the door and opened it.

He could not believe she was going to leave, but damned if he would stop her.

“Leave,” she commanded Davy. His driver crossed his arms, but didn’t move from the corner.

Fury radiated from her eyes.

“It’s all right. Davy. I’m awake now.”

With a scowl and slow dragging feet, Davy left the room. Claire closed and locked the door after him, then turned, giving Xavier her sweetest smile. Despite the lethargy caused by the opium, his sense of danger quadrupled.

She returned to the bed and sat beside him, placing her gloved hand upon his bare chest. “How are you feeling?”

Xavier removed her hand and pulled up the sheet so it covered his chest. “What do you wish to scold Vic about now?”

“I’m not here about Vic. I came to see how you are. I miss your company at dinner.” She flashed him another smile and gripped his hand in hers.

He tugged his hand away and ran it through his hair. “Claire, stop with the games. Just say whatever it is you came here to say.”

“Always to the point. I like that, for I am much the same, albeit with more finesse. But women are always better at handling people.”

He toyed with the idea of walking to the door and tossing her out, but three problems kept him in bed. First, she was Vic’s sister and his pup loved her. Second, trying to stand would likely reinjure his chest wound, and third, he needed his fading strength to deal with whatever danger Claire had just brought to his door or, in this case, bed. “What do you want?”

She smiled at his question, and placed her hand upon the sheet covering his chest. “I have a proposition for you, one that will serve all involved. It will ensure Vic and your secret remains safe and enable me to become a mother.”

“You wish to become a mother? Won’t that impede your scientific pursuits?”

“I’m certain I can do both if I engage a nursemaid and a nanny.”

That had been his parents’ stance as well. Have a child and shunt him off to the care of nannies, nursemaids, and tutors until he became of age to go to boarding school. “And what exactly is this plan that allows you to bear children you will rarely see?”

“I would have thought you could deduce the answer by my statement.”

His eyes narrowed. “I might be able to conceive a possibility, if it were not entirely unthinkable. So tell me straight out what you are proposing?”

“It’s a simple and obvious solution. You and I will marry. Then we will all live together in my house. I will have Jonas and you will have Vic.” Her hand slipped onto his chest again.

Disregarding the pain, he pushed himself up. “Listen to me carefully, Claire. There is only one person I love and will ever marry, if she wishes it. I cannot believe you would ever suggest this solution. I assure you, Vic would never agree to such an arrangement. She is very possessive of me.”

“She’ll get over it. It’s not as if she wishes to be a wife.”

“Which suits me fine, since I’ve no bloody use of such.”

“But you do! Otherwise, your relationship with Vic will be discovered. There are only two bedrooms in this house and there are four men living here. What will people say about that?” She stroked his cheek. “You need me as much as I need you.”

He knocked her hand away. “Tubs, come remove this woman! Tubs!” Within seconds the key fell from the lock and the door burst open. The giant picked Claire up and carried her from the room. Claire did not go quietly, but soon silence returned. Davy came in to check on him. “You all right?”

“Davy, where is Tubs sleeping?”

“In the basement. We cleaned the place up, and Vic painted the stone walls so they aren’t so dreary. Tubs says it’s the nicest place he’s ever lived and likes the solitude. He had to sleep on the floor with sixteen other men when he worked for Seth.” Davy paused and scratched his head. “Why’d you ask about Tubs sleeping space?”

“No reason of importance. Bring me a shot of my medicine so I can return to sleep.” He expected Davy to argue, but the man nodded and left

He did not look forward to sharing this with Vic, but she needed to hear it from him before Claire provided some distorted view of the matter.

Marry Claire indeed. Hell will freeze over first.

Chapter 24

Vic’s newest client, Mrs. Eaton, pointed to her parlor wall. “As you can see, I have many paintings of my dearest, Lady Love.”

Vic stared in amazement. Never had she seen so many different styles and mediums placed together on one wall. The overall effect was an assault on her senses and would have made a curator faint.

To preserve her sanity, she focused on one at a time. The first portrait had a strange elongated creature that looked to be half-animal, half-woman writhing in pain as a coral snake tightened around her neck.

“That portrait is by Leon Baskst, a Russian artist, well respected in Paris. He has recently founded the World of Art Group and in appreciation of my support for his group, he so kindly painted my precious cat, Lady Love.”

The artist seemed to have drawn a tortured form that resembled Mrs. Eaton with cat whiskers and then strangled her with a coral snake. Vic suspected the fellow resented painting a cat and only did so to acquire a substantial financial gift.

She moved on to the stark photograph showing the cat staring up at the ceiling’s corner. A pail and broom rested to one side creating an uneasy imbalance to the shot. Vic leaned in to look at the cat’s collar. It was almost two inches wide, studded with jewels.

“Tell me about this collar your cat wears?”

“Oh, it’s very fine. I had it made especially for her. This picture doesn’t do it justice. I asked Mr. Atget if he could color in the diamonds and sapphires.” She shook her head in annoyance. “You would think I had asked to repaint the Sixteenth Chapel!” She pouted at the picture. “I wish he would not have shot Lady Love in the kitchen. She looks to be in a hovel!”

“He probably did it for contrast.” Vic noticed Lady Love focused on a spider high in the corner. Jewels or not, she was still a cat.

Mrs. Eaton huffed. “Yes, he said something about it being a sublime representation of the ‘new world,’ but honestly all I wanted was a nice photograph. And the shot is only of her back. You can’t even see her beautiful face.”

Vic moved to the next painting and blinked several times searching for a cat in the picture. All she could locate were white half circles on red and tiny blue elliptical patches slightly to the left of center.

“Giacomo Balla, such a sweet young Italian. He’s part of the impressionist movement.” She smiled and sighed. “I did enjoy his visit.”

Looking at the blush upon her face, Vic suspected she enjoyed the artist, rather than his art. Moving on to the next, her hope of discovering what the cat actually looked seemed likely. The colorful watercolor had an identifiable cat, sleeping in a bay window. She leaned in to study the cat’s face and collar.

Mrs. Eaton sighed. “I’m most disappointed with Mr. Bonnard’s painting.”

“Really?” Thus far, Vic liked it the best.

“Oh, it’s a lovely painting, I’ll grant you. But that is not my bay window, and that is certainly not Lady Love.”

“What about the collar?”

Mrs. Eaton moved in and glared at the collar. “I’ll grant you the collar looks correct, but not Lady Love! See how her nose juts out.”

Vic could see nothing objectionable about the cat’s nose. It looked like a normal cat.

The next painting was a jarring mass of colors all dabbed heavily onto the canvas. Only by stepping back could she identify the cat. Due to the color and treatment of the collar, painted six inches wide, Lady Love’s square head seemed to float above its body.

“James Enso. His work is often mistaken for Van Gogh’s. What do you think?”

The lady didn’t want to know what she thought. Focusing on the next painting, she had two reasons to hope this portrait was accurate. First, Mr. Rousseau painted with precision and secondly, the subject of the still life was the ugliest damn cat she had ever seen.

Mrs. Eaton laughed softly. “I am almost embarrassed to show this one, for Mr. Rousseau is but an amateur…a retired clerk, but I love his painting. He didn’t argue when I said I wanted a still life with her resting among the family jewels. And look how lovely it came out.”

“And did he paint Lady Love true to form?”

Petting the frame, she nodded. “True to even the twirl of her longest whisker.”

Poor animal. “What type of cat is that?”

“She’s a Persian. Very rare and so beautiful.”

Without doubt, the ugliest cat Vic had ever seen. She then refocused on the jewels on the finely reproduced collar. “How much is the collar worth?”

“Twenty thousand pounds. I wanted another row of sapphires, but I feared it might be too much for poor Lady Love to carry. I would never wish to cause her harm.”

Vic had to bite her tongue to prevent from observing that placing twenty thousand pounds of jewels on the cat was sufficient to guarantee her harm. In fact, a mere thousand pounds of jewelry would do the trick.

In all probability, the new servant, one of Vic’s rescued youths, was to blame for the cat’s disappearance. She prayed it was only a coincidence, but the lump in her stomach indicated otherwise. Her only hope was the cat remained alive to rescue.

“I would like to interview your servants now.”

Mrs. Eaton’s eyes rounded in shock. “Why?”

Vic would have thought that obvious, but if the woman did not suspect a servant, Vic would not alter her trust at this time. “Procedure. Mr. Thorn has very strict rules on how an investigation occurs.”

“Oh, yes, of course.” Mrs. Eaton rang for the butler. When he arrived, she introduced them and left the room.

While Vic would never trade Gregory for the world, she liked Mrs. Eaton’s butler. Mr. Shelton ran a tight ship and seemed both open and candid.

“I do not know how the cat left this house. I have worked very hard to ensure that could not happen. I am well aware that if the creature ever placed a single paw outdoors, a thief would grab it for the collar. I have firm rules concerning the opening and closing of doors to prevent an escape when someone enters or leaves. A servant follows the animal about whenever it leaves Madam’s boudoir. I have footmen at each door to ensure no one enters or leaves if it is in the front entryway.”

The butler sighed and twisted his hands. “Yet, despite all my precautions, Lady Love appears to be gone.”

“Could a servant have snuck the animal out?”

The butler rubbed his temple as if the whole matter had given him a headache. “Because of the cat, I have altered the normal rules for servant’s days off. Servants here do not receive a half-day off each week. Instead, they receive two full days each month. When they leave on their holiday, I personally check their bags to ensure nothing leaves this house that does not belong to them.”

The lump in Vic’s stomach grew heavier. The new servant had not yet left on his first holiday. “Do you tell new servants that you’ll search their bags?”

“No, I do not. And the other servants are forbidden to warn them. It helps me sort out trouble early on.”

“How many servants are new?”

“One…Lowell Dobbs.” Mr. Shelton studied her and then frowned. “I understand why your suspicion should fall his way. However, he has proven to be an honest lad on more than one occasion.”

Vic leaned forward. “How so?”

“On his first day of work, he found a shilling on the kitchen floor and brought it to me so I could find the owner.”

“And did you find an owner?”

Mr. Shelton shook his head. “No, but that doesn’t lessen the boy’s part.”

Vic grimaced. Actually, it lessened it a great deal. The fellow probably ‘found’ it simply to establish his credentials as a reliable, forthright servant. “What other feats of honesty has he shown?”

“Lowell found Mrs. Eaton’s pearl bracelet in the garden and brought it to me.”

“Did Mrs. Eaton know her bracelet was missing?”

“Yes. She had discovered it gone in the morning. I was about to initiate a full search of the house when Lowell found it.”

“Would a full search of the house include the servant’s quarters?”

Mr. Shelton looked offended by the question. “Of course it does. A full search begins with the first floor.”

“And have you performed a full search for the cat?”

“I personally entered every room with the cat’s favorite sardine treat. She is not in this house.”

His words bode poorly for the life of Lady Love. Vic shook her head. “Let us begin the interviews. You may send them in any order you wish.”

Mr. Shelton went to retrieve the servants.

Vic’s interviews with the cook, housekeeper and footmen substantiated Shelton’s claims of security. Most of the servants appeared nervous when they arrived, but once Vic put them at ease, they calmed and answered her questions.

Unlike the other servants, Lowell Dobbs was not nervous when he arrived. Vic thought him a most charming and congenial lad. He might have convinced her of his innocence if he had not tossed his head while talking, allowing her to see four parallel red slash lines on his forehead. Like a hound on its scent, she searched for additional signs of fighting with a cat. She noticed a tiny red dot on his white gloves.

Spotting the focus of her attention, he covered the blood with his other hand. All the while, he chatted on amiably. “This is a fine place to work. I recognize you as the fellow who got me my job here. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate it…and me mum. I send her my pay so she can feed the little ones. You’re a good fellow, you are. Not many gents care about the likes of us.”

Vic smiled. “You hand is bleeding. May I see your injury? I can tell you if it needs to be tended by a doctor.”

He pulled his hand behind his back. “It’s nothing.”

“Still, I would like to see.” Vic met his eyes. When Lowell didn’t offer his hand, Vic added, “Remove the gloves and show me your hands now, Dobbs.”

“It was a stupid thing. Nothing serious. I fell into a barberry bush in the garden while looking for Mrs. Eaton’s lost bracelet.” He brought his hand from behind his back, but did not remove the glove.

Vic grabbed his hand in exasperation and pulled the glove away. She examined the four puncture wounds: Two on top of the edge of his palm and two on bottom. The two on the fleshy part of his palm looked almost a half-inch deep. “These wounds are infected. Have you shown them to Mr. Shelton?”

“No! If he thinks I’m sickly, he’ll toss me out.”

“Well, you will be sickly if you don’t have these wounds tended.”

“I have holiday in two days. I’ll go to a doctor then.”

Right after he sells the jewels ‒ if he survives selling such a valuable item. She sighed and rang the bell for Mr. Shelton. He entered less than a minute later.

“Mr. Shelton, come look at poor Dobbs’ hand. He says he fell into a barberry bush in the garden.”

The butler frowned at Dobbs.

Vic smiled and added, “When finding Mrs. Eaton’s bracelet…”

Mr. Shelton studied the wound and walked to the door. He returned with two strong footmen.

Seeing the game up, Dobbs leapt from his chair and headed to the bay window. He might’ve made it if Vic’s feet had not tangled with his, sending him crashing to the floor. The two strong footmen picked him up.

Shelton glared at the boy. “Lock him in the pantry.”

“For what?” Dobbs demanded. “I ain’t done nothing wrong. I got hurt by the barberry bush!”

Shelton huffed in agitation. “We have no barberry bushes in the garden.” Shelton turned his attention to Vic. “I suppose you wish to see Dobbs’ room now?”

“Yes, please.”

Shelton’s shoulders slumped as he led her through the servants’ quarters. “Would you like help searching for the jewels?”

She wasn’t looking forward to this. She expected to find a dead cat inside. “No, I can manage.”

He stopped at a door and looked at Vic. “I assure you, I had nothing to do with this. However, I understand why you might believe otherwise. I failed to notice the puncture wounds.”

Vic almost mentioned the claw marks upon his head, but stopped so poor Mr. Shelton would not feel worse about his failure.

“I do not think you are involved. In fact, if I find the jewels in this room, which I expect I will, their recovery will be due to the precautions you have taken to protect Mrs. Eaton.”

Mr. Shelton breathed in deeply as if her words gave him some comfort. He then stiffened his spine and left.

She entered the room and took a deep breath. The room stank of musk and urine. When she neared the bed, the odor grew heavier. She followed her nose. As she peered into the dark gloom a flash of grey shot towards her face. She pulled back just in time to prevent from losing her highly skilled nose to a foot wide ball of angry fur with slashing claws.

She shuffled further out of attack range and tried to see if the ball of white still wore a collar. All her senses detected was a growling, white, smelly terror from hell.

She sat on the floor and sighed. Either the collar hid beneath six inches of excited fluff, or Dobbs had already removed and secured it somewhere. The room seemed the safer bet to search, but her money was on the vicious cat.

Vic glanced under the bed. “You’re a lucky cat. I thought you dead for sure.”

The ugly pug face hissed at her in return.

“Would you like some milk? I expect you might be thirsty and hungry by now.”

It hissed again.

Vic left the room and walked to the kitchen. Seeing the cook, she asked if she might have a saucer of milk.

The woman glanced at Vic as if she’d lost her mind, probably because she was cooking lunch and had her hands full.

“Nan, see to the gentleman’s request.”

A young girl brought Vic a glass of milk.

“Umm, I actually need a saucer.”

The girl rolled her eyes, but found a saucer and set the glass of milk upon it and handed Vic both.

Returning to Dobbs room, she set down the saucer two feet from the bed, and poured the milk. “Come on, Lady Love. Have some milk.”

An angry growl emanated from beneath the bed.

When ten minutes had passed and no kitty stepped out, Vic returned to the kitchen and asked for sardines.

“Oh, for the love of God!” the cook yelled. “Why is it my job to feed you?”

No question about it, Vic liked Mrs. Yarrows a thousand times better than this cook.

The same young girl acquired the sardines, put them on another saucer, and shooed Victor out of the kitchen.

Easing the door open, Vic hoped to discover Lady Love drinking milk, but the dish sat alone in the middle of the floor and the bed growled upon her arrival.

She waved the dish of sardines beneath the bed and received a painful slashing across her hand. Yanking her hand away, she abandoned the sardines to the vicious ball of fur.

“I’ll search the room; seems less dangerous,” Vic informed the bed and headed to the Chester drawers.

Chapter 25

In the evening, Victor returned from her lost pet case wearing a shredded linen shirt. Blood smeared not only on it, but her hair and face as well.

“What happened to you?” Davy demanded.

She intended to ignore him and go upstairs to tend her wounds and change, but Mr. Tubs blocked the stairs like a giant mountain.

He firmly took hold of her right arm, and examined the wounds visible through the gaps in the fabric. “I see you found the lost pet.” He shook his head. “I hate cats.”

“I’m getting there,” Vic grumbled. “Along with ungrateful servants!”

Mr. Tubs brow furrowed. “Did you want me to come with you? I would have.”

Vic placed her hand on his massive shoulder and looked up at him. “I wasn’t talking about you. You are not a servant. You are a highly skilled employee who was not needed to find a damn cat.”

Upon studying her bloodied shirt, his frown deepened. “You sure?”

“Well, if you know how to pull a frightened cat from under a bed without being eviscerated, I’ll add it to your skills list.”

He tilted his head to the side. “Dead or alive?”

Vic’s eyes rounded in horror. “Alive! My client would have been most upset if I returned her beloved cat dead!”

“Then you were probably the best man for the job.” He looked at Vic’s red lined hands. “At least, it didn’t bite you. They can bite hard and deep so that your hand don’t work right ever again. Those teeth will go through thick leather too.” He opened and closed his left hand several times as he said this.

Vic sensed Mr. Tubs had battled with a few cats in his time. She hated the thought, but she feared the cats might have lost their lives in the battle. “Don’t worry, I’ll never send you in for a cat.”

“Well, not ones you want alive.” He stepped aside, so she could go upstairs. “You might want to be quiet. We just put Mr. Thorn to bed.”

She laughed at his words. Mr. Tubs made Xavier sound like a tiny baby who had escaped his cradle. Then she frowned and looked closer at Mr. Tubs’ face and the hint of grey long fingers stretching down one side of his face. “Did Xavier throw an inkwell at you?”

“Not at me, at the ceiling above me. I scrubbed my face as hard as I could and changed to my other set of clothes.”

Vic sighed. “I’m sorry, Mr. Tubs. I promised you’d get a better employer and you probably think you’re working for a madman. I had broken him of the habit of throwing inkwells at the door. The opium must have caused him to vent his rage upon ceilings now. I’ll put a stop to it, and insist he buy you new clothes.”

“He saved my life today. My old boss wanted me back so he could kill me for quitting. A little black ink on my face and a set of clothes is a cheap price for my life… least in my mind.”

Fear filled her gut. “Seth came here…to Xavier’s room?” What if that bastard noticed her clothes in the closet? He would have no qualms in trying to blackmail Xavier.

“Mr. Thorn had me take him downstairs soon after you left.”

Davy spoke up from his bench where he sat, repairing one of Marybell’s bridles. “Spent most the day reading your case notes. Never asked for his tonic ‘til four hours ago.”

She could hear the satisfaction in his voice. Yes, he was certainly the better skilled nursemaid. While his smugness annoyed, his success pleased her even more. “Excellent job, Davy! I am very proud of you. I only wish now, you would have taken over the job sooner. It appears I am the reason he has failed to get better.”

Davy shook his head. “That’s not so. He’s always been difficult. Your case notes kept him distracted from his cravings. So I’m thinking you still had a major contribution in his improvement.”

Vic went over and tried to hug him, but he held her off.

“I don’t wish to be covered in blood. Now go clean yourself up, and be quiet about it. You don’t want Xavier seeing you like that. It’ll stop his heart for sure!”

“They’re just scratches…”

“Which look worse than they are. Take a gander in the mirror and you’ll see what I mean.”

Victor hurried upstairs to their bedroom. She wanted to check on Xavier first, but a glance in the mirror almost made her jump with fright. How the hell had one furry, flat-nosed cat caused so much damage?

She was grateful for her anaconda shirt. The thick muslin and padding had protected her from chest wounds. However, the linen shirt showed several long gashes from the chest to stomach area. No doubt, from those racking back claws when she secured and hugged the cat to her chest.

When she removed the muslin shirt, she noticed it had suffered critical harm in the battle as well. The poor anaconda would require hours of stitching to recover from its day. Thankfully, she possessed ten undershirts. With three additional employees on the payroll and Xavier addicted to opium, everyone depended on her to solve cases. This was no time to lose her masculinity.

She stared at herself in the mirror. She did look a sad sight just now: Cobwebs in her hair, blood streaks on her face. No wonder Mrs. Eaton gasped in fright before her attention focused onto the shivering cat crushed to Victor’s chest.

Once Mrs. Eaton extracted her ‘darling precious Lady Love’ from Vic’s arms, Vic could have burst into flames and the woman wouldn’t have noticed. Her beloved cat was back and in need of adulation and a bath.

Vic wished she could have a bath, but another client was expected at seven. Not enough time to heat water, fill a tub, and take a bath. She growled as she washed the blood from her face and hair. Then she scrubbed her arms and hands clean. On the deeper scratches, she applied alcohol, which burned like bloody hell, resulting in soft curses toward the cat.

She retrieved a clean, non-eviscerated anaconda-shirt and pulled it over her head, cursing the cat further as she struggled to get it on.

“Come here so I can help,” Xavier spoke from the bed.

She turned and looked at him. “You’re supposed to be asleep.”

“I was until a bloodied warrior entered my room cursing some Persian cat to die an ugly death by hairballs.”

Vic frowned. “How’d you know the cat’s breed?”

Xavier sat up and placed his feet on the floor with only a faint hint of pain. “Allow me to save you, before you tangle yourself in a knot.”

Vic stood before him so he could tug the shirt into its proper placement. She tilted her head in suspicion. “Have you met Mrs. Eaton before?”

“I have. Only she didn’t have a cat then. She had a Pekinese dog, which she had foolishly given a collar of jewels. The dog lasted a mere three days before someone snatched it during its daily walk.”

“Did you take the case?”

“And have Doyle write about such foolishness?”

“Then why did she come to you again? If you refused to take the case before, why was she so certain you would help her this time?”

“I have no idea. Perhaps she heard I have a partner in training with a kind heart.”

Vic grimaced. Xavier might be half-right. Mrs. Eaton probably came here because Mrs. Collins told her to go to Victor. Now that Vic thought about it, the woman had never once asked if Mr. Thorn would work on her case.

“Well, hopefully, Mr. Doyle will get his facts straight and have Mr. Watson find the cat.”

With a final yank on the back of her anaconda shirt, Vic resumed her masculine shape. She attempted to rise, but Xavier stopped her. “Let those wounds air dry, or you’ll stain your shirt.”

Vic knew Xavier didn’t give a damn about her ‘dandified shirts,’ he just wanted to interrogate her about this silly case. She decided to try for a counter attack. “So how did you know Mrs. Eaton’s cat was Persian?”

He stroked her hair and smiled. “I awoke hearing curses towards a flat-nose fur ball. Since I fail to resemble such a description, I deduced by your shredded and bloodied state that you had encountered a Persian cat. I must also assume that Mrs. Eaton chose to ignore my advice and gave the cat some enticing jewelry to wear.”

“A diamond and sapphire collar worth twenty thousand pounds.”

Xavier looked surprised. “And the thief left the cat alive? What was he thinking?”

Vic sighed. “Well, this was not a very smart thief. I am sorry to say he was one of the servants I asked Mrs. Collins to place in good homes. His attempt at theft resulted in one very angry bejeweled cat hiding beneath the bed in his servant’s quarter, some serious bite marks on his hands and a slash across his very handsome face.”

Xavier’s eyebrow rose. “So what did you do to this ungrateful scoundrel?”

“When I confronted him with the cat’s presence in his room, he insisted the cat had entered his room on its own accord and that he had obtained his injuries trying to remove it.”

Xavier’s right eyebrow rose an inch. “Did he tell the butler he had found the missing cat?”

“Oddly, he told no one. Also, he attempted to hide his injuries and when I asked, lied, claiming he received them from a barberry bush in the garden. However, Mrs. Eaton doesn’t tolerate any thorn bushes.”

Xavier stroked her cheek. “My poor pup, you must have been most put out with such incompetent thievery and lies.”

“I was, indeed! Do I truly look gullible enough to believe such nonsense?”

Xavier shook his head. “Not to me. I saw your incredible intelligence from the very start.”

Vic rewarded him with a kiss for his compliment. When Xavier tried to deepen the kiss, she pulled away. “You know what Dr. Connors said—we cannot do anything to stimulate your heart rate.”

Xavier sighed. “Then continue with this ridiculous case.”

“While I did not believe his absurd story, I feared Stone might say the presence of the cat in his room insufficient proof for his arrest.”

Xavier nodded. “Stone can be quite troublesome like that.”

“Fortunately, before I tackled the cat beneath the bed, I searched his room for anything else he might have stolen and hid away until he could sell them on his day off. I found a silver letter opener, a gold plated napkin ring and small cross belonging to a maid.”

He chucked her under her chin. “Well, done, Victor! And did you call Stone?”

“Actually, I thought he still might resent being called out for the theft of a silver letter opener worth five pounds, so I requested Sergeant Meyers. I figured he might know the boy and be more apt to believe the cretin had attempted to steal the cat’s collar.”

Xavier leaned back on headboard. “Wise decision. You probably saved yourself a blistering scold about wasting the Chief Inspector’s time.” He rolled his eyes to heaven. “God knows, I’ve heard it enough.”

“Then this will surprise you. Meyers and Stone showed up to arrest the boy. When I explained my evidence, Stone said he intended to charge the fellow for the theft of the collar as well, since it was in his room.”

“On the cat…”

“Didn’t matter. It was in his room.”

Xavier’s brow furrowed. “Are you certain the man was Stone?”

Vic chuckled. Her partner was finally returning to the man she loved. “I was amazed at his cooperative nature, until I remembered I had warned any thieves not to apply for jobs, because if they stole from these good families, I would track them down and Stone would send them to prison. I think perhaps he wished to send a message to the other servants that my threat was genuine.”

Xavier caressed her face with clear admiration. “No doubt, you’ve nailed it. Stone is probably worried he’ll have a hundred cases of theft on his hand if he doesn’t send a harsh message to the remaining servants.” He chuckled as a thought occurred to him. “So have you told Gregory he let a thief slip though?”

“Not yet. He’s going to be devastated. I was thinking about waiting to see if he tries to side with Claire on her damnable plan to marry you, and then use the revelation as a distraction.”

Xavier lost his smile as if doused with cold water. He took her hand in his. “Don’t waste such a fine bullet on such an absurd target. If my clear and adamant refusal of her ridiculous proposal was insufficient to end this nonsense, tell him I would lock Claire in a closet the first time she scolded me.” Xavier’s voice betrayed aggravation, pain, and fatigue.

Anger raged through Vic. “Claire came here and proposed to you? After I told her not to?”

“She did, and I turned her down flat. I have my true love, and I want no one else.”

His words soothed her anger and earned him a kiss on his forehead. “I have to finish dressing. We’ve a new client at seven.”

Xavier scowled. “Why did you accept such a late appointment? What’s it about?”

“The appointment book says ‘Lost luggage.’ Why is everybody losing things?”

Chuckling, he pressed her hand to his lips. “Well, they’ve come to the right place. No one is better at finding things, pets, or people than you.” Then after a pause he added, “And trouble.”

She pulled away and went to the closet. Picking out one of her fashionable high collared silk shirts, she slipped it on. “That’s just the nature of our business.”

Once she buttoned and tucked her shirt, she returned to Xavier and kissed him once more. “Shall I come up after my interview so that you can mentor me away from trouble?”

He stroked her cheek. “Please do.” Despite his attempt at a smile, pain etched into his face.

“Should I call Davy for you?”

He breathed heavily. “I’ll call him when I need him. But right now I wish to ponder why lost luggage requires our attention at such a late hour in the day.”

Chapter 26

When Vic finished her interview with the lost luggage client, she went upstairs to peek in on Xavier. Upon finding him deep in an opium-induced dream, she sighed with disappointment. This case needed her partner’s insight before proceeding. The client withheld some critical detail during the interview. She could tell by the guilt in his eyes, but he stubbornly refused to tell her what he hid.

Besides, this hadn’t proved to be a good day for solving cases. She studied her arms. Her thousand wounds itched like the devil. Perhaps a bath would make her feel better.

***

When she arrived home and asked for a bath to be prepared, Mrs. Yarrows pulled her into her room for a private discussion. “The house is all in an uproar and I’m hoping you can soothe matters over.”

Vic inwardly groaned. All she wanted was a bath, no problems, nothing lost, just a warm bath!

“What’s happened?” Mrs. Collins probably told Claire about the thieving servant, and her busybody sister then told Gregory about his blunder.

“Miss Claire has broken it off with Jonas—all because he couldn’t learn chemistry to her liking.”

“I believe the matter is a bit more complicated than that.”

Mrs. Yarrows pressed her hands to her chest. “Then she knows? Victor, you must intervene on Sara’s behalf. She feels safe here. Please don’t let Claire punish her for this. Sara did not purposely steal Jonas away. They have tried very hard to resist their feelings. You cannot let Miss Claire return my poor niece to the streets.”

Vic blinked several times, as she took in Mrs. Yarrows’ words. “First of all, let me assure you that I did not save Sara so anyone could toss her willy-nilly into the street. Sara has a place in this house for as long as she wishes. If Claire has a problem with that, she may leave and establish her own home, but I am the eldest, and I run this household.”

Doubt was all too evident in Mrs. Yarrows’ eyes.

“I know I allow Claire to have her way on most matters, but in this situation, I will stand firm. Neither Jonas nor Sara will leave over this nonsense. In fact, I think they make a very fine match.”

For Vic’s open and compassionate attitude, Mrs. Yarrows rewarded her with a bone-breaking hug. “Thank you! You have no idea how I’ve worried.”

Vic wiggled out of her embrace. “I’ll talk to Claire while I’m here tonight. However, I doubt she broke it off with Jonas because of Sara. I believe they have simply grown apart as they’ve matured.”

Mrs. Yarrows nodded in agreement. “Poor Jonas. He has been most miserable. He still loves Miss Claire. Always will, I imagine. However, that love is of a servant to a goddess. With Sara, he feels the love a man to a woman, where he is the master.”

Vic frowned at the word ‘master,’ but otherwise understood what Mrs. Yarrows meant. With Claire, he had to be the submissive boy. With Sara, he could be a man.

“Tell them to make no confessions of their feelings just yet. I need to find someone for Claire, so she won’t resent Jonas’ quick rebound and good fortune.”

***

Claire was more than happy to assist Vic with her bath, given all the troubles she had to share. However, before she focused on her miserable life, she did take time to scold Vic on her battle wounds.

“I cannot believe Mrs. Eaton’s cat caused all these scratches. What were you doing to the poor creature?”

Determined not to tell Claire about Gregory’s mistake, and thus losing her bullet for future use, she answered in a half-truth. “I merely tried to coax it from beneath a bed and hold it in my arms.”

Claire stared at her as if she were mad. “And when the cat swatted you the first time, why did you persist?”

Vic held to her half-truths with determination. “Mrs. Eaton believed the cat to be lost. I wished to deliver it to the woman and make her happy.”

“And look at you! I swear, Vic. Sometimes you have no sense at all. If you want a cat to come out from under the bed, then soft words and a bowl of milk are much better enticements.”

Vic sighed and bit her tongue. She had tried gentle persuasion before she resorted to brute force. Unfortunately, the damn thieving servant had terrorized the feline to the point that not even sardines held the Persian’s interest.

To end the scolding, she turned the topic. “Let’s talk of you, instead. Have you decided what to do with yourself since Xavier refused your asinine plan that I had already refused on his behalf.”

Claire tilted her head in her superior manner. “You did not refuse on his behalf. You refused on yours, because you did not want me to marry Xavier.”

“That is true, and yet, you still went behind my back and proposed marriage to him!” Vic yelled, feeling her initial outrage return two-fold.

“Yes, I did. I felt you were being very selfish. You cannot marry him. So what do you care if I do?”

“Nobody is marrying Xavier!” Vic slapped her hand upon the water causing a tidal wave to splash onto Claire.

“God! You are such a child!”

Vic was about to retaliate and repeat Xavier’s plan to lock her in a closet. Then she saw the tears streaming down her sister’s face and all her anger dissipated. “Claire, why are you crying?”

“I don’t know. I am just so confused. I thought I knew what I wanted, but everything has changed since you met Xavier.”

Finally, Vic understood what tormented her sister. “You want an equal partner. Not a servant, nor a master, but a relationship of mutual respect and interests.”

Claire looked up at Vic. “Yes. Now do you understand why I want to marry Xavier?”

All her understanding died a quick and angry death. “No, Claire. I do not understand why you wish to marry my equal partner. I will, in fact, never understand that particular desire of yours, and if you persist in stating it aloud, we will cease to be friends. Am I making myself clear in this matter?”

Claire looked like a statue of stubborn righteousness.

Vic leaned forward and glared at her sister in fury. “I don’t care if you think me selfish. All you need to understand is that I’m serious. Xavier is mine and only mine. And I will hate anyone who tries to take him away from me.”

Claire rose and dramatically tossed herself onto the settee in the corner, far out of the reach of splashes of water. “I have broken it off with Jonas.”

“Good. That means the both of you can get on with your lives and find more compatible partners.” Vic leaned back in her tub.

She sniffed. “You never liked Jonas.”

“That’s not true. I think he’s a fine fellow. I never liked Jonas pretending to be my manservant and honestly, I never liked the two of you together. I thought it a bad match on both sides.”

“How’s that?”

“It prevented him from becoming a man, and has turned you into a…” Vic paused, searching for a nicer phrase than ‘nagging shrew.’

Claire glared. “A what?”

“A domineering personality who might be challenging for most men to endure.”

“You don’t have to be so hateful.”

Vic sighed in exasperation. “I’m not trying to be hateful, Claire. You asked for the truth and I told you. Men do not like being bossed and scolded.”

“So I’m to mew and simper, then?”

Vic couldn’t imagine such a thing. “A surprisingly large number of options exist between mewing and dominating. What we need to do is find you a man who is already in the middle and then you can work hard to become a woman who can compromise.”

She looked outraged at Vic’s statement. “You mean give in, submit to a man’s will.”

“Yes, on occasion. That’s the definition of compromise. You both state your views and if you fail to reach an accord, then someone gives. Sometimes the man gives way, and sometimes the woman does.”

“You are wrong. The woman must always give in such cases.”

Vic growled in exasperation. “Since you must always be right, I will concede your view. In Claire’s world, the woman must always give way.” Vic nailed Claire with a stern glare. “So you need to decide if ‘giving in’ to your husband’s wishes is a fair price to have children and a normal life.”

“But a husband with the same interests…” she added.

Her words alerted Vic her sister was on the edge of a breakthrough. “Yes, a relationship of mutual respect and interests.”

“Do you really believe another such man exists?” Claire asked, plucking the velvet on the settee.

Vic chose to ignore the not-so-hidden reference to Xavier and just answered her question. “Yes, Claire. I am certain of it. And I will keep my eye out for such a fellow.”

“You haven’t found him thus far.”

Vic heard the resentment in Claire’s voice and lost her temper. “I have never looked for such a man. Why would I when you had your heart set on Jonas? Had I done so, you would have accused me of trying to break you and Jonas apart.”

Vic stopped yelling and calmed herself. Claire needed her help, not scoldings. Once she settled her temper, she continued. “However, matters have changed. You have come to the realization Jonas is not your future, and now I can offer to help you find a true partner in life, unless you make me so angry I disown you instead.”

Vic didn’t wait for a response to her last threat. She took a deep breath and sunk beneath the water to enjoy a moment of blissful silence.

Eventually, the need for air required her to return to the surface. Claire waited near the edge of the tub. She leaned over and kissed Vic’s head. “I love you. You are the very best older brother a girl could have.”

Before Vic could muster a response, Claire left the room. Vic leaned back, feeling a great sense of achievement. Now all she had to do was find Claire a husband who would respect and admire her intelligence and wish to discuss science and chemistry all day.

Vic frowned. Where on earth would she find such a fellow?

Chapter 27

When Vic returned to the office, bearing food from Mrs. Yarrows, Davy smiled. “He’s reading more of your cases.”

Upon passing the food off to Davy, she knocked and then entered Xavier’s inner sanctum. “Why aren’t you in bed?”

He looked up from her case notes. “I don’t have time. If I’m to get through your long pontifications, I need every hour of the day.”

“I sent Davy, Ben, and Mr. Tubs upstairs with some bouillabaisse. Would you like some?”

Xavier returned his attention to her notes. “No, feed the hired help before your half-dead master.”

She laughed. Despite his grumpiness, he did look much better. “Employer, and Davy said you had already eaten.”

“Yes, I had my gruel for the day. No need to worry about me.”

She leaned forward on the desk. “If you tell me now, I can probably retrieve you a bone or two.”

Ignoring her offer, he scowled at the papers in his hand. “I hope these notes are a work in process and not your final report.”

“Why?” She sat on the edge of his desk and tilted her head so she could read her notes and ferret out what offended him.

“Because when I compare them to your initial notes, I find you have left out half the information.”

“That’s the summary. The reason it’s called a summary is because it only contains the key points.”

“But you left out key points! You don’t even mention Barnacle’s work. How am I to decide his pay? According to this summary, he shouldn’t receive a shilling.” Xavier then picked up her field notes. “And yet, this indicates he put his life in danger.”

“Sorry, I’ll be certain to include everyone’s contribution in the future. And to that point, I don’t think you are paying Barnacle enough.”

Dropping her notes, Xavier looked up in outrage. “The ungrateful scamp! Is he complaining?”

“No, I am.” She told him how Barnacle stole sconces for future meals.

He waved her concern off. “Old habits. So he found himself a girl did he? I’ll have to deduct a bit for that.”

“Deduct? Barnacle obtained valuable information from the girl. I think he deserves a raise.”

Xavier chuckled. “So you think he should make more than you?”

Vic jumped up from the desk. “More than me? Why on earth would you pay a street boy—” She stopped yelling as she noticed the twinkle in Xavier’s eyes. She sat down in a chair. “I would just like to confirm he is being paid a fair wage for his work.”

“Since he never complains, I must presume he is overpaid.”

“That is not a reasonable assumption.” Vic crossed her arms and scowled.

“It has worked well enough thus far and I’m not inclined to change my habits.”

Vic lost her patience. “Just tell me what you are paying our employees, please!”

“I will not. If you are so damned determined to know, then interrogate them on your own time.”

She had tried that, but none would crack and spill. She had also searched the office for ledgers showing his employees cost, but unless he had their salaries hidden under a false label, such as ‘sundries’ then he paid all of his employees out of a different account than he paid his other business expenses.

“Xavier, I only wish to ensure they are being compensated for their hard work.”

His eyebrows rose in feigned insult. “And I cannot be trusted to do so? Do you feel underpaid, Victor? Is that what we are really discussing?”

“No! You pay me an outrageously large salary. A hundred pounds a month is far more than I would make at a bank in a year.”

Xavier relaxed and a faint smile teased his lips. “Then you are not complaining about your salary?”

“No!”

“Good. And since no one is complaining, let us talk of something else.”

She glared at him for refusing to answer her question. “All right, let us talk about people who are complaining. I spoke with Inspector Stone and he refuses to ask the Queen to reimburse the tenants for their eviction during your illness.”

His resounding laugh filled the room. “I would have paid to see him ask her.”

“It’s not funny. Those people were set out of their homes nearly a week. I believe we owe them compensation. I spoke to Mr. Tubs and he said rent in the area runs about five shillings a week.”

“Do you know who owns the tenement building?”

“No…”

“The Queen. And do you know how much she charges in rent to live there?”

Vic sensed this was a trick question, but she answered anyway. “Five shillings a week?”

“Wrong! She generously provides their homes at no charge.”

“But Mr. Tubs said—”

“Five shillings a week, yes I know. However, the tenants do not pay the Queen. They pay Seth Sojourn for the privilege of living there for free. Unfortunately, Seth is in a financial crisis presently due to the destruction of Dragon’s Cloud, so he won’t be inclined to reimburse their rents.”

Xavier paused and then smiled as some thought amused him. “Although there is a satisfying sense of justice in asking him to pay for the results of my living in squalor while I healed from his poor care.” Xavier took out a sheet of paper. “I take it back. You are absolutely correct, Victor. These people deserve reimbursement.”

He scrawled across the page with great amusement. When he finished he set the paper aside to dry. Vic leaned in and deciphered his hieroglyphics.

The Queen requests her subjects in Albany 12 receive one week’s reimbursement of non-authorized rents while your poorly doctored hostage occupied their building. All other requests pending this settlement.

The last sentence worried her. “What do you mean ‘all other requests’?”

“That will remain a secret until hell freezes over. Now I have a question for you? Who drank all of my best whiskey?”

Vic leaned back in her chair. “That will remain a secret until hell revives from its freeze.”

Chapter 28

Vic found Mr. Tubs hiding out in the kitchen, cleaning his gun. She sat down at the table beside him.

He looked up, worried and upset. “Is the lady all right?”

“She recovered even before Davy found the salts.”

“Sorry about me scaring her. Mr. Thorn told me not to smile at the clients, and I don’t. I was laughing at you playing with the teeth on her fox coat.”

“I couldn’t help myself. Why would anyone wear a sharp tooth dog skull on their coat?”

Mr. Tubs made his hoof’ing laugh. “You should have seen your face.” Then he sobered. “From now on, I’ll go to the kitchen when a client arrives.” He picked a black speck from the hairs on his arms. “Did I tell you I went to the zoo to see the elephants on Sunday?”

“What did you think?”

“They were using their trunks to blow water at each other, which made me laugh. The next thing I know, this young woman faints.” His eyes filled with sadness. “I’m pretty sure I caused it.”

Her heart went out to him. “Why don’t we go to a dentist and see if there is something he can do.”

Mr. Tubs shook his head. “No, thanks.”

Unable to accept defeat, she pushed. “May I ask why? If it’s the money, I can give you a loan.”

He looked at her and sighed. “You are the nicest person I’ve ever met.”

“Really?” Vic smiled with pleasure. No one before had ever claimed her to be the nicest person they knew. Gregory often called her the most annoying and Xavier declared she had the best intuition, but she rather liked Mr. Tubs’ attribution. Then she remembered he had only known her a month. “You might want to wait awhile before we carve that into a silver chalice and place it on the mantel. I have my cranky moments.”

Mr. Tubs chuckled and looked at her. “I like that you don’t talk down to me. Most people think because I’m so big and ugly, that I’m dim-witted. But I’m not. I didn’t get much formal education, but my mind works better than most.”

“Did I mention that elephants are highly intelligent? Some people say they never forget anything they learn. They’ll remember a trail they only took once when a little calf.”

“You named me good then. I’m the same way.”

“So if it is not the money, why don’t you want to see a dentist?”

He breathed out so heavily she felt the breeze across the table—a rather malodorous wind that made her stomach roil.

He stared at his hands. “Well, first of all, I won’t fit into his chair, and second he won’t want to work in my mouth. It’s ugly in there. I ain’t got a single good tooth left.”

Vic stood up. “Come on. I know a dentist who loves a challenge. If you don’t fit in his chair, he’ll figure something out.”

Mr. Tubs remained seated in silent resistance.

“He’s a nice fellow. We were study-partners our first year at Oxford. Then he decided he wanted to become a dentist and transferred to King’s College. He is very good. I go to no one else.” Vic opened her mouth and leaned forward so Mr. Tubs could see her healthy mouth.

Vic held out her hand. “His office is quite amazing. He has a large assortment of hand and foot drills. He even has one drill that runs by an electromagnetic motor. If nothing else, you’ll find the visit fascinating.”

Tubs rose from the table. “Well, now you’ve got me curious.”

***

David Brown was tinkering with his equipment when they entered. “Vic, how are you? Come see my new x-ray machine. Just got it installed this morning. Edmund Kells sent me the specs, and I had a London machine shop build it for me. I tell you, the Americans are hands above us when it comes to improvements in dentistry. Truth is most of my equipment and tools are either French or American. I suppose we Brits just brush our teeth too much to warrant such investment in reparations.”

Vic laughed. “Well, I’ve brought you someone who is in great need of reparation.”

David took a look at Tubs and a sparkle lit up his eyes. “Wonderful, I have wanted to try out my new dental chair on a heavier person. It’s supposed to seat customers of any size.”

Tubs’ brow furrowed as he eyed the seat. However, when David pushed down the arms so they extended the width, Mr. Tubs, with much cheerful encouragement from David, sat in the chair. By his pained expression, he expected it to collapse any moment.

“How much do you weigh, if I might ask, sir?” David asked as he cranked a lever until Mr. Tubs laid almost horizontal with his head elevated to a serviceable height.

“I stepped on a grain weight once. The man said I was four hundred-weight.”

“That would be about thirty-four stone,” Vic added helpfully.

With pride David pointed to the underside of the chair. “With these large crank wheels operating the rack and pinion mechanism, did you see how easy I moved him about?”

“Very impressive.” Vic smiled, happy she could make David’s day and help Mr. Tubs at the same time.

He stared into Mr. Tubs’ mouth. “Well, this is interesting.” Glancing at Vic, he asked, “Do you have time for me to take X-rays? I would love to shoot Mr. Tubs.”

Mr. Tubs frowned. “Eh?”

Vic laughed when she realized he had misinterpreted David’s comment. “He wants to take pictures of your mouth with his new machine that can see through flesh and bone.”

“Very good, Victor!” David patted her on her back. “You evidently read this month’s Proceedings of the Physical Society of London.”

“Actually, my sister read it, and mentioned it to me.”

David paused during his set up of the machine. “Your sister, Claire, right?”

“I’m amazed you remember.”

“Well, you made her rather unforgettable. Does she still have a laboratory in the cellar?”

“She does.”

“I’m glad her husband is supportive of her intellectual pursuits.”

“She doesn’t have a husband. I put out a rumor she was dirt poor and scared her suitors away.”

Both Mr. Tubs and David stared in horror at Vic as if she had just declared she murdered the Queen. “Well, they were horrid, money-grubbing bastards, who wouldn’t let her say a word in twenty. I didn’t mean for the entire town to think her poor, I just wanted the three to go away. And they did, before dessert could be served.”

“That’s horrible!” David said.

“I’m sorry, I was a desperate man. I had to save someone’s life that night and I could not hang around the house protecting Claire from these cretins.”

He looked up from his work. “I meant for your sister. I think you were absolutely right to chase them off.”

With a metal plate stuffed in his mouth, her giant friend could only manage an ‘ee oo’.

David returned his attention to Mr. Tubs. “You have a wonderfully large mouth‒makes it very easy to work in. Now remain still while I activate the X-ray machine.”

Victor followed David to the control panel and watched as nothing happened other than a loud humming noise.

David turned the machine off and returned to Mr. Tubs, extracting the plate. “Now watch how easy I can shoot the other side.” With a flip of a lever, he rotated Mr. Tubs around so he faced the other direction. “Bloody clever, don’t you think?”

***

David seemed fascinated with the results of his X-rays. He cranked Mr. Tubs to a sitting position so he could see as well. He talked through the problems with every tooth.

“Now a normal dentist would just pull your teeth out and give you dentures, but I think I can save most of them by drilling out the infection and filling the hole with a new mixture of amalgam suggested by the American dentist GV Black. This composite of silver, tin, copper, and zinc will withstand expansions and contractions during temperature changes.”

“In clear English, what does that mean?” Tubs asked.

David patted him on his giant back. “It means you can eat without pain and be less likely to lose your fillings during winter.”

Tubs nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

“Do you have time to do it now?” Vic asked.

“This is the only time I can do it. My appointment book is full for three months. Since I began using nitrous oxide, I’ve become the most popular dentist in London. Fortunately, for you, I closed the office today because I wasn’t certain how long it would take them to set up the X-ray machine. So today, Mr. Tubs can have all my appointments, and I daresay, he’ll need them.”

“You see, Tubs. Our coming here was meant to be.”

As David calculated the amount of gas to give Mr. Tubs, Vic double-checked his math. Mr. Tubs’ weight was off the chart, so David had to calibrate the amount by hand. When they both agreed he had the calculation correct, Vic turned her attention to her very worried employee.

“I’d rather have the pain then the gas,” Tubs said.

Realizing what worried her friend, she patted his arm. “Nitrite oxide is not like opium. You won’t develop a craving for it. Nor will it put you to sleep. Some people experience a sense of happiness, and others simply feel calm. However, its best attribute is that you will experience no pain, and given all the drilling David plans to do, that is very important, not only for you, but for David and me.”

Tubs brow furrowed. “I understand why the gas will help me, but why would your dentist care if I take it or not?”

“Because people in pain often bite down on hands sticking in their mouths and neither of us wish to be bit.”

“You’re going to help?”

“I’m going to be his troublesome apprentice.”

David smiled at Vic’s announcement. “Great, let me show you how to run this clever suction machine, also invented by an American, I might add.”

“Claire told me about this,” Vic said as she held up the tube.

“Did she?” David looked wistful. “Victor, would you consider inviting me to dinner some night? I would like to meet your sister. If for no other reason, then to prove you haven’t invented this goddess of knowledge and accomplishment just to torment me.”

Vic laughed. “I’ll do you one better. I will invite you to dinner and forbid the cook to poison your food.”

Chapter 29

Vic was exhausted from her day as a dental apprentice. She crawled into bed, next to Xavier, intending to go directly to sleep. Only Xavier woke the moment her head rested on his chest.

“How long could it possibly take to pull a mouthful of teeth?”

“We didn’t pull them. We excavated and repaired them. Even the front teeth are filed down with ivory covers that David wired into place by anchoring them to the incisors.”

Xavier yawned, evidently having no interest in dentistry. “Have you figured out what happened to that fool’s luggage yet?”

“I came directly here after my hard day’s work as a dental assistant. Let me assure you, being your partner is infinitely more satisfying.”

Chuckling, he stroked her head. “Well, I’ve a few bones for my tired pup. Stone stopped by and said the prosecutor has arrested Carson on both the charge of attempted murder and murder. He hopes to outrage the jurists with the man’s intention to kill a well-liked lady of society so much they will find Carson guilty of the murder of the unfortunate woman, as well. The prosecutor is confident he can convict on the attempted murder charge, and optimistic Carson might hang for murder.”

“That is indeed satisfying.” She then pushed herself up and looked at him. “I also have good news! I have found Claire a prospective husband”

Xavier’s brows furrowed. “As long as it’s not me, I am impressed.”

“My friend, David—he’ll make Claire a fine husband. He’s half in love with her sight unseen. When we were in school, I would speak of her and the lab she created in the basement. He fell in love with the idea of an intelligent wife back then and now wants me to invite him to dinner. Just think, they could spend hours at night discussing the Proceedings of the Physical Society of London.”

“He sounds like a good choice for Claire. However, since he is your friend, you must ask yourself if Claire is a good choice for him.”

“What’s wrong with my sister?”

“As a wife? Well, even an enlightened fellow such as your dentist might object to her dalliance with a butler in training.”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. Claire has broken it off with Jonas, and Jonas is in love with our cook’s niece, Sara. Although do not let Claire know the last part.”

Xavier frowned.

“Xavier? Do you see a flaw with my plan?”

“Well, if you must know, I’m not certain even your enlightened friend will care much for the real Claire. I consider myself the epitome of enlightenment, and I find her most irritating at times. She behaves as if she is the Queen of England and all must obey her. And she has a tendency for scolding.”

“I agree on both issues and she is going to work hard to improve her behavior.”

“How is she to do that when everyone gives in to her? While Gregory holds you to a firm line, he does nothing to curb Claire’s tendencies to boss and command. Instead, everyone caters to her every whim. If she decides to take an equal partner, she will have to radically change her behavior.”

Vic tilted her chin in pride. “That is precisely what I said.”

He leaned in and kissed her lips, teasing them open. Vic enjoyed a moment of intimacy and then pulled back. “What did Dr. Connors say?”

“He said I have made extraordinary progress both in healing and ridding myself of this damned addiction.”

She laughed. “You have, but I was talking about something else.”

“I was leading up to that. He says if I believe it will help me take my mind off my cravings, then I should succumb to the pleasure of your delicious body until my soul reaches rapture.”

She shook her head. Those words would never come out of Connors’ mouth. “What did he really say?”

“I will tell you his exact words if you can tell me where Mr. Hanson’s luggage is located.”

Had she not met Davy on her way up, she would have answered his question incorrectly. Then she frowned as she realized Xavier would not know she knew the answer. “Do you not wish to make love to me?”

He stared at her as if she were mad. “We are only bargaining on whether you get to know Connors’ exact words. Either way, I will submit my body to your pleasure.”

Pleased it had only been a silly misunderstanding on her part, she snuggled closer. “Well, I do want to know what Dr. Connors said, so I declare the luggage in Davy’s room.”

Xavier scowled. “You interrogated the witness before coming up here.”

Preening at her cleverness, she nodded. Truthfully, it was hardly an interrogation. She simply asked Davy how their patient was doing. He told her Xavier was cranky without her; that Dr. Connors and Stone had visited; and Xavier sent him to retrieve a piece of luggage from the train station’s lost and found, which he was to keep in his room until further notice.

“So what exactly did Dr. Connors say?”

“He said we could engage in sexual intercourse as long as I remain prone and move neither my chest nor left arm.”

“I can work within those constraints.” Removing both hers and Xavier’s clothes, she secured a condom and straddled his hips. “So how did you know where to find Mr. Thomas’ luggage?”

His eyes met hers and his right eyebrow rose in challenge. “You’ll have to interrogate better than that to make me talk.”

More than happy to torture him with pleasure, she laughed softly. “As you wish, but when you cry out for mercy, no one will come to help you. I’ve locked the door.”

The End

If you enjoyed this book, please write a review

The Adventures of Xavier and Vic

Book 1

The Troublesome Apprentice

By Liza O’Connor

∞

Cases to be solved:

The Key to Aunt Maddy’s Death

The Missing Husband of Mrs. Wimple

The Disappearing Scarlet Nun

The Clever Butcher’s Wife

The Rescue of Lady Anne

While investigating the death of a friend and client, Maddy Hamilton, Xavier Thorn (reputed to be the inspiration of Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes) is greatly impressed with Maddy’s nephew, Victor, and offers him a job as his secretary. Aware of Xavier’s history of firing secretaries, Victor garners a promise that he cannot be fired for three months and then proceeds, in Xavier’s view, to be cheeky and impertinent at every turn. Xavier endures ‘the impudent pup’ because Victor is most skilled in extracting the truth from clients and intuiting facts with little evidence to assist. As they solve a string of cases, Xavier discovers a few more important details about his troublesome assistant, such as her true gender, and the realization that she has awakened his long dormant heart.

Other books by Liza O’Connor

A Long Road to Love Series

Humorous Contemporary Disaster Romance

Worst Week Ever

Oh Stupid Heart

Coming to Reason

Climbing Out of Hell

The Hardest Love

CONTEMPORARY SUSPENSE

White Oak Mafia Series

Snarky, Romantic, Suspense Thriller

A Fortune to Die For

Unexpected Love  —  Coming Soon

Dance or Die  —  Coming Soon

Requires Rescue Series

Often Humorous, Contemporary, Romance/Suspense

Each is a standalone book with a special twist

All have a strong woman who requires help from a strong man.

Saving Casey

SINGLE CONTEMPORARY BOOKS

Ghost Lover

Humorous, Contemporary Romance with Ghost & Ghost cat

HISTORICAL

The Adventures of Xavier & Vic

Humorous, Late Victorian Sleuth Series

The Troublesome Apprentice

The Missing Partner

A Right to Love (a romantic spinoff)

The Mesmerist

Well Kept Secrets

Pack of Trouble

The Darkest Days

SINGLE HISTORICAL NOVELS

Untamed & Unabashed

Spinoff from Jane Austen’s Pride & Prejudice

SCIENCE FICTION

The Multiverse Series

Sci-Fi Soap Opera with humor, romance, and science

The Gods of Probabilities

Surviving Outbound

Surviving Terranue

Surviving Sojourn

Artificial Intelligence

Sci-Fi/Romance

Public Secrets

Birth of Adam