Red Dog Conspiracy: A Noir Future Steampunk Crime Family Saga

Chapter 1: The Jacq of Spades - Round 17: The Encounter



As it turned out, Katherine’s treat cost a penny, and we parted ways, with another warning not to tell. She was so excited with our secret fun I thought she would either blurt out the whole affair or never tell a soul.

Molly would see my being here as an escape. Roy would love the idea of insulting the Harts in this way. I would know whether Katherine was trustworthy.

Perhaps I was beginning to think like Roy after all. I wasn’t sure if this was a good development.

I walked around the Plaza until I reached a storefront, with words engraved upon the front window in gold:

Anna’s Medicaments

Potions, Medicines, And Salves Of All Sorts

Supply To Hospitals And Clinics Our Specialty

Anna Goren: an apothecary, the woman who packaged and sent my morning tea after it was formulated and sent to her. She supplied the physicians on Market Center and much of Bridges.

Anna had brown skin and long brown hair which curled every which way, piled on top of her head in an untidy bundle. She wore a purple linen dress covered by a white cotton apron, and fussed about a room full of bottles, jars, and beakers, which were in turn full of pills, powders, and potions of all sorts.

She glanced up when I entered. “Mum Spadros! So good to see you! How can I help?”

“Would you look at these?”

“I’m ready to close for luncheon anyway.” She shut the door, locked it, and turned the sign to “Closed.” Then we went to her back room, which was mostly taken up with testing equipment. Copper pipes with brass fittings came down the walls, leading to larger copper and glass cylinders with various labels. “Whatcha got for me, dearie?”

I took out the envelope with the powder in it and put the closed envelope in her hand. “If you could tell me what this is, I would be most grateful.”

She opened the envelope, peered into it, smelled the contents, then set up a row of glass tubes in a pine and brass holder, putting a bit of the powder into each. She held up what appeared to be a lorgnette-style opera-glass. The handle and frame was brass, and it had large black lenses. “Shield your eyes.”

I did so.

Then she dropped a match into the first tube. A flash of white light and a familiar smell wafted forth. “Just as I thought,” Anna said. “Party Time.”

* * *

I ate luncheon with Anna at a small table in her back room as she did one test after another. She sat for a moment, took a bite of her sandwich, then said, “Oh!” with her mouth full, jumping up to do another test.

I laughed. “You are like a Jack-in-the-box.”

“When I think of something, I must investigate! How else will I know?”

Anna helped me more than once with strange substances I found while on cases, never asking for a cent. Her payment was to know, and to understand.

“I have it!” She flopped into her chair, a curl of her hair coming out of its bundle to fall beside her face. “This particular Party Time,” she took a drink of her tea, “is the sort found in a factory, before it is cut and sent to the distributors. The Party Time itself is pure!”

“Oh?”

“Yes, unadulterated by any chemical normally used before distribution. However, it contains wood chips. Party Time in bulk is often stored in barrels; I imagine that the barrel broke, and shards of wood got into the mix. Where did you find this?”

“On the floorboards of a stolen carriage.”

“Ah,” Anna said, as if that made everything clear. “Dirt and shoe-polish and carpet-fiber mixed in. Now I understand!”

“Would you test these as well?” I opened my second envelope and handed her the threads. She snipped a tiny piece from each and lit them afire, then handed the larger portions back to me.

“The gray is wool; the brown is cotton. Both from a man’s jacket, if I’m not mistaken. A seamstress could tell you more.”

“You’re wonderful, Anna.” I planned to leave then, but recalled the Inventor’s words.

“Is something wrong?”

She wasn’t an Inventor, nor did she ever work on the Magma Steam Generator that I knew of. But if anyone could find the solution to this, Anna could. “I have a problem that perhaps you might have some insight into.” I explained to her the issue with the pilings and the Magma Steam Generator, as best I knew how.

I had never seen her frown before. “This is a serious problem. I will consider it carefully.”

“Why is it so serious? Can we not just use candles? Cut trees for warmth?”

“Oh, my dear girl,” she said, “lights and heat are the least worry. This is no natural city; the whole of it is a construct, a mechanism. Its entirety, from the aperture to the river, runs on power. Life would be most unpleasant without it.”

I had no idea. “Can you help?”

“I don’t know, dearie, but I will try my best.”

“Thank you for everything.” I glanced at her clock. “I must go. I told Mr. Spadros I would be back for tea.”

Anna smiled. “Ah, yes, the husband. How happy that I was never burdened with one!” She came over, took my face in her hands, and kissed my forehead, as she always did. “Off you go, my dear. Have a lovely evening.”

I felt pleased for more than one reason. The Diamond Family had only one Party Time factory, disguised as a shoe polish factory. This must be where they held David. The factory did make shoe polish, but only to hide the barrels of Party Time behind in case the Feds came snooping.

Some zeppelins carrying Agents had unfortunate accidents, one involving a surface-to-air missile. Now the Feds seemed to be afraid to enter the city. Even though Party Time was illegal, the courts were mostly bought, and half the police were on it themselves, so not even they wanted the Feds around. If it weren’t for the Bridgers — and of course, the Families — Party Time wouldn’t be illegal at all.

I tried Party Time once — it felt a bit like being drunk, without having to down a few bottles to get there. Despite its frivolous name, Party Time made the Spadros Family a fortune: production, distribution, and marketing of Party Time in the Spadros quadrant was at an all-time high. Tony’s father Roy planned to expand our territory outside the boundaries of Bridges itself.

But the Diamonds didn’t make much Party Time themselves. Since they controlled the prison, they preferred to push for harsh sentencing of those hapless souls caught with Party Time and without a big enough bribe (or good enough Family connections) to escape. Then they charged the prisoner’s quadrant a fortune for care and upkeep. It was a sweet set-up.

A ball came across my path, and a small boy ran to fetch it. I squatted to pick the ball up. “Here you are.”

A young woman with light brown skin and blonde curls came up.” Tell the nice lady thank you, Master Roland.”

“Thank you.” The boy was exquisite: brown skin, black eyes, black ringlet curls, a beautiful smile. He reminded me of someone.

“You’re welcome.” I smiled. “He’s beautiful.”

The woman beamed. “And such a good child, too.”

This must be his nanny. I stood and put out my hand. “Jacqueline Spadros.”

She took my hand and curtsied. “Octavia Diamond, mum, so nice to meet you.” She beckoned to the boy. “Come along, Master Roland, it’s time to go home. Let’s see if Miss Bessie has had her calf yet.”

“Hurray!” The little one skipped along beside her, and they held hands as they went.

* * *

On the way home, I stopped at Madame Biltcliffe’s dress shop. Several well-dressed women browsed the wares, none of whom I recognized. Madame was returning a roll of cloth to its rack when I entered. She glanced up, surprise on her face. “Mrs. Spadros —!”

The women turned to me and curtsied.

“— How can I help you?”

I smiled. “I stopped by to ask about some cloth I saw in another shop. I would love a dress made of it.”

The other women turned back to their browsing. Madame came over and took my arm. “Wonderful! Come to my office.”

We went to her office, and she took a ring of keys from her waistband and unlocked it. Her office smelled freshly painted, and the window was new. She must have noticed my puzzlement. “Ah!” She put her hand to her forehead. “I am forgetting to tell you. Never have so many customers been here! Before the New Year, someone broke the window and came in.”

“What?”

She nodded, closing the door. “The place, it was a mess!”

“Was anything missing?”

“Not a thing.”

“Did you contact the police?”

She laughed. “I have been in Bridges long enough to know those results. Scandal for you, and policeman after policeman asking for money ‘to speed investigations.’” She shook her head with a smile. “The window had a crack; it needed changing. So it’s done, with less bother.”

I showed her the threads and button. “Yes, your friend is right, from a man’s jacket. I would say, hmm, five years old? This button company no longer does business.”

Ah. Interesting. I took up the items and went to the door, opening it. “Thank you, Madame, you’ve been very helpful!”

“A pleasure, Mrs. Spadros. I’ll order the cloth for you at once.”

Clever woman, indeed.

During the taxi-carriage ride home, I thought about the button. I should have asked Madame what company made it. But a jacket maker who wished to economize, with clientele on a limited budget, might use older buttons for quite some time. I would have to investigate this later.

Why would someone break into Madame’s office, then take nothing? I wasn’t sure what information of value she might have there. Measurements?

Yet another item which made no sense. I put it aside.

I exited the taxi-carriage a few blocks away from home so no one would see I didn’t arrive in a Hart carriage, and considered my plan as I walked.

I needed to learn the precise location of the Diamond Party Time factory, then obtain a set of blueprints. This meant a trip to the Records Hall on Market Center. The most difficult part would be to learn whether David still remained at the factory.

But that could wait for later.

I joined Tony in his study for tea.

He seemed anxious. “How was your luncheon?”

“Wonderful!” I remembered my time with Anna. “I had a lovely time.”

“I’m so glad.” Tony sounded relieved.

“Did your day go well?”

“Quite. The quarterly reports were ready. We took in over $3,000 during Yuletide.”

I stared at him in shock, remembering the night long ago where I was captured for the promise of a dollar.

Damn my father — I never did get that dollar.

“I felt surprised myself. But I suppose all those pennies at the roulette tables and slot machines add up.”

Why would anyone throw their money at the slim chance to win more? It seemed a foolish luxury.

“You seem distracted,” Tony said.

Hmm. What to tell him … “I heard an unusual name today. Have you ever heard of a gentleman named Frank Pagliacci?”

Tony shook his head. “Doesn’t sound familiar. Could be one of the new families over in the Clubb quadrant. I read in the newspaper the other day about the trials of people who move to Bridges from other cities.”

The article seemed frivolous, but Tony enjoyed such things, especially involving the upper classes. “Is it so different there?”

Tony shrugged. “Depends on the city. Customs are different, wherever you go.”

Mrs. Bryce spoke of debtors’ prison. Depending on who you owed, you might be shot, but thrown into prison? It seemed a poor way to get your money back.

“Perhaps you might not like to answer right away, having just returned, but I’d like to visit City Hall.”

I almost laughed. The Records Hall, exactly where I needed to go, was next door to City Hall.

“We’re going to remodel the casino, and I need to speak with the officials there.” He paused for several seconds then shook his head. “No, I should never have asked … it will take much of the day … and will be much too tedious …”

“No! I would love to go.”

Tony seemed surprised. “I had no idea you enjoyed the place.”

Those offices were dreary, but this was a perfect opportunity to find the blueprints to the Diamond Party Time factory.

Thinking of the Diamonds reminded me of the article about the new regulation, and I mentioned it to Tony.

“I hadn’t noticed it. The Diamonds must be very pleased.”

I chuckled. “My thoughts exactly. But what an opportunity to win the favor of our people. “

“What do you mean?”

“Pay the fines for anyone caught up in this law. This will encourage them to tell us of any police harassment, and make them love us more.”

Tony beamed at me. “I have such a brilliant wife. I’ll have the men pass the word.”

Doubtless leaving out that it was my idea, but no matter. In that, I was like Anna. I delighted in having worthwhile ideas more than receiving praise for them. “If we’re lucky, the other Families won’t consider this for a while. We might even gain ground.”

Tony became quite excited at that prospect, and took out paper and pen, making notes there at the table on how to make best use of this scheme.

Almost as if this whole thing were a game.

At least it was better to win ground by making the people love us than by violence in the streets. “When did you plan to visit City Hall?”

Tony put his pen down and sighed. “I got word right before you arrived. The Clubbs have put a carriage-search on everyone going in and out of their quadrant.”

I stared at him in shock. “What?”

He nodded. “So of course, all the other families are doing the same, and putting watchers on the river, in case this is a ploy to distract us from a Clubb attack. The lines going into and out of Market Center will be horrendous.”

“Whatever could have caused them to do that?”

Tony shook his head. “The Clubbs are secretive. It could be their granddaughter Calcutta running off again, for all we know.”

I doubted that. The look on Regina Clubb’s face when she saw me … “Well, I have nothing planned tomorrow.”

“We should leave as early in the day as possible, after morning meeting, perhaps, and have luncheon on Market.”

The next day, after a long wait to cross the bridge to Market Center, we reached City Hall. Tony told the coachmen to stay on the island and gave them leave to visit the tavern. “You may put your drinks and luncheon on our tab.”

I glanced back as we went to the building steps, and Honor tipped his hat. I felt touched by his thanks.

Tony didn’t look back once.

Gardena was right. I wasn’t a Spadros, not really.

Tony reached into his breast pocket, retrieving a long list of what he needed and who he must see today. I felt certain I could find what I needed while he was occupied.

The Hall had white walls with thick, dark wood borders around each of its equally dark doors. A floor of black tile led to a set of black wooden stairs with black banisters, edged in brass. We climbed to the fourth floor, and went to a door marked, “Permits.”

I turned to Tony. “I’d like to view the paintings here and in the Records Hall while you’re engaged. Shall we meet in front?”

“Certainly. In an hour, for luncheon?”

Was it noon already? As if in answer, the clock tower began its chiming. I nodded.

I waited until he went inside. I then descended four flights of stairs, hurried outside, and walked over to the Records Hall.

On the inside it looked identical to City Hall. The map room on the second floor held an ancient brown-skinned man with white-glazed eyes behind a black marble slab desk. “May I help you, miss?” A three-year-old boy played with dolls on the floor in the corner.

“I’d like to see a map of the city.” I pitched my voice like that of a young girl’s and attempted Mrs. Bryce’s accent. If the old man thought I was young, he might let me see more.

“Come, come this way.”

We went down a long hall to an archway. The huge room beyond was full of brown wooden bookshelves. He crossed to the bookshelves, then turned left.

He shuffled along with his right hand on the bookshelves until we came to an oak table with a huge book on it. The book was bound in dark green leather, which was cracked at the spine. Across from this table sat a small-scale map of the entire city.

This map sat on a round table six feet wide, with a domed dust cover. The populated area was the size of a dinner plate; the rivers, the width of pencils; the island, a penny in the center. “Maps of the whole city. What quadrant are you from?”

“Diamond. My mother and I just moved here. She’s next door getting her permits.”

“Ah, yes.” The gold band on his left ring finger glinted as he turned pages one by one. “These pages show the city quadrants, or you can look at the whole city, with the countryside and all, over at the dome-table.” He gazed through me. “You look as long as you like. If you need anything else, let me know.”

“Oh, yes. I almost forgot. I promised my mother I would draw for her.” I saw the factory at once, with the number 3123/67, and a building near it. “Where might I find the blueprint area? She needs to rebuild …” What was the name? I peered at the ancient map. “The Omaha building. I’m to make a copy.”

“Right this way.” He shuffled along the long row of ancient books. At the end of the row, he turned, his arm out. Five stacks down, he turned right, into a row of black-bound volumes. “It’s not often we get newcomers to Diamond. I was born there in Diamond, way back when old Caesar Diamond and his pack was shooting up the area, back in Eighteen and Twenty-Seven.” The old man cackled. “Big Cassino and the Beer Card Boys, that’s what his men called themselves. You ever hear of them?”

“No, sir.” A newcomer wouldn’t know about them.

“I remember running after their carriages as a lad, when they rooted out the Wheelcard Gang. Those was exciting days.”

He moved along, his hand running across the books. “Here we go, Plat 3123/66, the Omaha building. All the blueprints you need.” He took out the book, shuffled back the way we came, and set it on a large table. A row of quills and inkwells sat in the center. “The paper for your copies is there.” He pointed to a shelf past the table.

“Thank you, sir.”

“It’s what I’m here for.” A bell rang, far out front. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

He shuffled off. Once he was out of sight and sound, I hurried back, got out the book for the factory, took it to the table, and scanned through the pages, listening for the old man’s return.

I pulled a small notebook from my handbag and made notes and drawings.

Canisters of materials … supply rooms …

Entryways … front, back, side …

Locker rooms …

Various levels … the layout of the building …

The basement … where the boy was kept. The most likely place, anyway.

I heard brisk footsteps, from far down the hall and around the corner, coming closer. Not the old man’s.

I returned the factory blueprint book to its place and myself to the table, but intuition told me not to stay there. I hid behind the bookcase just in time. Jack Diamond’s shaved head peered around the corner with a concerned, inquisitive expression on his face. He looked so much like his twin brother Jonathan that for an instant I forgot to be afraid.

What could Jack possibly be doing here?

“You’re sure?” Jack said. The old man’s shuffling footsteps came closer.

Alarmed, I hurried to the end of the first set of stacks, across an aisle, then past another long set, looking for an exit, but there was none. A short, thick bookcase of oak-stained wood with more quills and paper blocked my path, and I crouched behind it.

“Yes, sir, she was right over there at the table. She pretended to be a girl, but my eyes ain’t that bad, sir. A full tall woman she was, wearing red like all the ladies are these days, and one of them feather hats. Something didn’t seem right.”

The footsteps began to move to the table, which would put them in view.

I needed a distraction. I took off my hat, which held two feathers in it, and pulled one of the feathers off, sticking it in the books so its top peeked up past the edge. Then I put my hat back on and moved out of sight.

“Any idea who she was?”

“No. She said she was new to Bridges, just moved into Diamond. Her accent was a bit like from Dickens … but her coloring, she looked like a Hart to me. And she knew the Omaha building. Most everyone in Diamond calls it the Smith building, on account of the bank that was there before your daddy shot Mr. Plafond Smith dead back in ‘87. No one’s called it the Omaha since the Bloody Year,” he gave a short laugh, “long before you were born. The Harts captured that part for a while there.”

Oh, no. No wonder he became alarmed.

“Well, isn’t that an old book? She could have just read the name off the page.” Jack chuckled. “We’re not in the old days anymore, Swan. There’s going to be outsiders here.”

“I suppose you’re right, sir, but I didn’t want to take chances. Not with all that’s going on.”

“You did right. Lucky I was next door.”

“I smell her, she went this way.” Swan shuffled along my trail.

I was gathering my skirts to move on when Jack said:

“What book is this? It was out farther than the others.”

“That’s the Mayer building, sir, right next to the Smith one. It’s gonna be tore down soon.”

I took off my hat again and peered between the top of the books. Jack stood frowning, book in hand. On his small finger, a silver ring with a clear stone glinted. “What could she have possibly wanted with this?” Then he glanced my way. “Look!” He patted Swan’s arm. “There she is!” He rushed towards me.

I glanced to my right, appalled. I forgot about the feather! Gathering my skirts, I crawled along the long thick bookcase until I reached its end. I hurried past the gap to the bookcases just in time to avoid him, and was hidden by the bookcases between us.

I heard whispering at the far end, then, “Got you!” A sound as if someone leapt forward, then, “Damn!” A pause, then Jack let out an exuberant, approving laugh. “She’s tricky!”

Swan laughed. “Most are, sir.”

I rushed on tiptoe to the archway. Jack’s voice came from the far end of the stacks, “Hey!”

I heard the click of Jack’s white patent-leather shoes coming towards me as I fled the map area, panting. I ran down the hallway past the little boy, who waved at me and giggled.

I hurried down the stairs, through the front lobby and out the front doors, putting on my hat as I pushed past a host of ladies wearing various shades of red.

I forced myself to walk down the front steps, heart pounding. Just before the last step, I glanced back.

Jack opened the front door, peering around as the sun broke through the clouds. I turned my head so he wouldn’t see my face … and immediately bumped into someone.

“My apologies!” the man said.

“Master Blaze Rainbow.” I kept my back to the door as people streamed past us. Clouds darkened the sky.

He took a step backwards, off the stairs. “Mrs. Jacqueline Spadros. Fancy meeting you here!”

I glanced at the door; Jack Diamond was gone. I took a deep breath and forced myself to smile. “A pleasure to see you again.”

“A pleasure to see you too! What are you doing here?”

“My husband is at City Hall, so I thought I would amuse myself by looking at the paintings in the lobbies.” I stepped off of the stairs and moved around the corner towards City Hall.

Morton followed. “So what did you think?”

“Dreadful. Most disappointing.” They truly were, unless new ones appeared since the last time I viewed them.

He moved beside me. “I’m sorry to hear that. Did you happen to visit any offices while you were here?”

“Why, Master Rainbow, I would almost think you were garnering information. But a gentleman like yourself would never be so crass.”

“I have offended you.”

“Never. Rather, you have impressed me with your tenacity. I’m sure it was no accident, us meeting here.” Clearly he had people notifying him of my whereabouts, which meant spies either at the Spadros bridge, or more likely here on Market Center.

I changed my assessment of him: perhaps he was one of the men following me, either he or an associate.

Morton tipped his hat. “You’re most perceptive, madam. Then do you now know where the boy is held?”

I stopped in front of a large floral display, where we could be seen from neither the Records Hall nor City Hall, and faced him. “I believe I do.”

“Would you be willing to share that information?”

“Why should I do that?”

Morton looked exasperated. “My employer will only pay me if I rescue the boy myself.”

I smiled. “You have an interesting dilemma.”

“As do you. The carriage-search. You can’t get into the Diamond quadrant again unnoticed.”

I hadn’t considered that. “Are we to take another ride in your yacht, then?”

He smiled. “You have given me the quadrant. I will give you a ride in return, but I must accompany you.”

I felt irritated at myself. “I might let you do that, for a percentage of your fee. But Zia must be aboard the yacht, and I will hire the carriage.” I didn’t trust a man who grabbed women in alleys, and I certainly would not get into any carriage that he hired, maid or no maid. “You’ve already admitted my information has value.”

He chuckled. “Damnable woman,” he whispered. “Very well, ten percent.”

“Sixty.”

“Twenty.”

“Fifty.”

“Thirty.”

I felt amazed that the man bargained with me. “Forty it is then.” He must have been either desperate or had no intention of giving me anything. At the time, I gave a fifty-fifty chance of the latter. “When shall we take our adventure?”

“I’ll send another invitation in the post tomorrow.”

“Splendid.” I gave him my hand, which he shook.

Just then, Tony came walking up. “Master Rainbow! So good to see you.”

Morton gave Tony a handshake, and tipped his hat to me. “A pleasure to see you as well.” He checked his pocket-watch. “I’m afraid, though, that I’m late for an appointment — I must be off.” He moved down the street and disappeared into the crowd.

“What was that about? I saw you shake hands.”

I chuckled. “Apparently I made a fair impression upon Mrs. Helen Hart, and Master Rainbow has agreed to suggest another meeting with her.”

“Really? How kind of him. I’m glad that you and Helen Hart are getting on so well. We should invite her to tea. I’ve thought our families should become better friends.”

I took Tony’s arm as we strolled along past the Records Hall. “Did you get your work done?”

“Most of it. One of the men I wished to see has fallen ill. I made an appointment with him for later this week.” It began to rain, and he opened his umbrella over us. “But now, it is high time for luncheon.”

While we ate, I thought about Jack Diamond, back in the map room. He sounded, acted … normal, even reasonable. But Gardena said Jack had his lucid days.

I shuddered to think of such a horrible malady. But I couldn’t let sympathy for Jack’s plight cause me to let my guard down.

When we returned home, I sent a note to Master Rainbow at the address on his card, asking him to arrange a meeting with Mrs. Helen Hart for tea at the Spadros Women’s Club, which like the others, had a boathouse.

I also sent notes to my contacts, inquiring after this Frank Pagliacci. I wished I had men of my own, as Tony did, to keep watch on Jack Diamond’s whereabouts. That encounter was much too close.


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