Red Dog Conspiracy: A Noir Future Steampunk Crime Family Saga

I went into my study, lit myself a cigarette, and poured a glass of bourbon to celebrate. But then I remembered Frank Pagliacci and Jack Diamond, and a weight fell upon my soul. How might I deduce their plans?

Anastasia, Morton, and Zia all knew Frank Pagliacci, and quite well, it seemed. Yet none of them mentioned Jack Diamond.

Did Frank Pagliacci keep his involvement with Jack a secret from them? If Frank wanted to make himself appear more imposing, claiming allegiance with a Family member would be the method of choice.

Unless ...

I thought about how Pagliacci boasted that afternoon in the factory. Could he fancy himself greater than a Diamond heir? This could cause conflict, which might lead to their downfall. Or, if the man truly craved attention above all things, cause him to make a mistake which I might exploit.

But I felt as if I missed something. The last time I felt this way it cost two boys their lives and a third his sanity. I couldn't take the risk of missing something again. I took out a sheet of paper and began to write:

Item One: Red Dogs break into Madame's Shop

Item Two: False Notes — possibly false Invoices

Item Three: Spies in brown (Duck & Crab)

Item Four: Kidnapping and murder

Item Five: Attack on Tony

Item Six: Impersonating a DA — false Office

Item Seven: Whipping a Horse

Item Eight: Boat explosion

I stared at this list, trying to see some pattern in it. After a time, I added:

Item Nine: Impersonating the Red Dog Gang

I perceived two patterns. First, deception. False notes, false invoices, and impersonations, all surrounding a "very good-looking" man. Second, violence. Attack, kidnapping, murder, whipping a horse, explosion, and whatever happened to Crab and Duck which affected Tony so. And whatever they did to little David Bryce.

Deception and violence. Frank and Jack. It made sense. But I had never heard of Jack being involved with something like this before. Whipping horses? Exploding boats? Strangling boys?

I leaned back, eyes closed. Something didn't seem right.

I recalled my feeling that the kidnappings, murders, and attacks were distractions to keep us — or more to the point, me — from investigating the break-in at Madame's shop, which yielded the materials for the false notes and invoices.

So what were the false notes and invoices for? Sowing discord, yes, they tried that. Using our money to finance their schemes: both devious and insulting. But once Tony's accountant reviewed the ledgers, we should have some idea of what they planned. What else might they do? There must be more. The plans seemed too simple, the distractions too great.

And the boat explosion. What did it mean?

I finished my glass and poured another. Morton and Zia could identify Frank Pagliacci. They were both in danger.

Morton was safe as long as he stayed here, surrounded by our men. Zia seemed unlikely to take any warning I cared to give, even if I wanted to try to find her. At that moment, she was probably telling Frank I knifed her. I recalled the dark stain on the sandy cobblestones in that alley.

At the time, I hoped she wasn't hurt too badly.

If the boat explosion was an attempt to silence Morton, it made no sense for Jack to have done it. He seemed not to care at all who knew of his crimes. As a Diamond heir and Keeper of the Prison, he had the full might of the Bridges justice system behind him. Why go to the trouble of killing someone in such a dramatic yet inefficient way? A knife to the throat was more Jack's style, and much more certain of success.

And I didn't like Morton's idea that the Feds might have been behind the bombing. Although most people in Bridges hated and feared the Feds, this wasn't their style at all. While they might track a person down, it would be to bring them to Hub to stand trial, not to murder them in their sleep.

So that left Frank.

An idea occurred to me so forcefully that I rose from my chair: a distraction was a side bet, not the main play.

Frank Pagliacci was assigned the distraction.

Jack Diamond wasn't sane enough for long enough to create this plot, nor to execute it.

Someone else was in charge here.

I paced the room for an hour trying to think of who might be in charge. This new man must be someone I hadn't heard of yet. Who might have enough influence over Jack Diamond to reliably control him? It was clear from the events at the Grand Ball that he didn't even listen to his own father.

I sighed and rang for Pearson.

He came in at once. "Yes, mum?"

"Would you see if the Inventor is available to come here and speak with me?"

"I'll inquire, mum." He closed the door behind him.

After a quarter hour, Pearson announced Inventor Maxim Call's arrival.

Inventor Call was wiry and brown, with thinning white hair and piercing blue eyes. "Well, girl, I'm here. What do you want?"

I curtsied. "Sir, I wished to speak to you on the matter we discussed at our last meeting."

He frowned. "Young lady, I'm old. I don't remember what I ate for dinner last night, much less a discussion we had for a few minutes last month."

Really. "The Magma Steam Generator? Under the house?"

"Oh! Yes! Now I remember. Your husband gave me a fierce dressing-down about my bringing you there, until I told him if he wanted me to stay he'd better show some manners. Used to be a good quiet studious boy," he shook his head.

I chuckled, imagining the scene.

"Well, what did you have me dragged up here for?"

I hesitated. How did Anna put it? "If there is a way to cleanse the Generator and restore the pilings, and it was done on a routine basis for 400 years, there should be some mechanism in place. The mechanism surely has controls to it, which should be nearby. If those might be found —"

"Then all we need to do is learn how to use them."

I felt deflated. "You've thought of this already."

"Indeed we did! We searched the place years ago, never found a thing." He studied me. "But it was a good thought."

"I can't take credit. I asked a friend for advice, and she gave me this answer."

"Really? I'd like to meet this woman."

"Her name's Anna Goren; she's —"

Maxim Call held up a hand. "I know who Anna is." He stood silent for a moment. "I asked Anna to marry me once. She was the most talented woman I ever met. Beautiful as well. Anna could have become an Inventor, but she couldn't stand anyone to direct her work, or limit her in any way." He paused. "How is she?"

"Very well. She has an apothecary shop on Market Center, which supplies half of Bridges."

His eyes reddened. "That's my Anna." He paused, gazing at the floor, then smiled to himself. "It gives me great pleasure to hear she's well and happy." His shoulders straightened, and he stood taller, as if gaining new courage. "When you see her again, give her my regards, will you?"

"I will." I thought of the hidden compartment in Anna's shop. "Could the controls be hidden somewhere?"

"Why would they do that?"

"I don't know. It's just something which came to me."

Maxim Call considered this for a moment. "Perhaps we're looking in the wrong place."

"Sir?"

"Well, perhaps the controls aren't in this piling at all. Perhaps the controls were powerful enough to work on multiple pilings at once. Why, there are six pilings in this quadrant alone! I'll have my boys look for hidden compartments here, of course. But I think we need to start searching the other pilings as well." He nodded to himself as he began wandering off towards the door. "Very interesting idea."

After he left the room, I chuckled. What a strange old man. "Glad I could help!"