Red Dog Conspiracy: A Noir Future Steampunk Crime Family Saga

When I returned home, Pearson had a letter for me:

I have news. — JB

JB had to be Jake Bower, the investigator I hired to learn about Jack Diamond's movements since New Year's.

I poured a glass of bourbon and lit a cigarette. The thought of going to meet Mr. Bower made me weary. All I wanted was a few days to rest, to forget about Mad Jack Diamond and his deranged ruffian Frank Pagliacci. Which seemed unlikely to happen.

Where could Frank Pagliacci be? Besides Anastasia, none of my other informants had any word of him. Clearly he hadn't fled the city. Was Jack hiding him? Jack had taken to his rooms; might Frank be hiding there also?

No. With Jack and Rachel ill and Jon out of the house, Julius wouldn't allow a stranger to stay with them. Gardena would have said something about a visitor, especially one as badly injured as Frank must have been. And I couldn't see Jonathan allowing a stranger to go to their Country House.

Why did Julius put up with Jack's behavior? That was another mystery. He had to know that ...

Wait, I thought. Jack, by all accounts, was as fearsome a creature as Roy Spadros. Perhaps Julius used his son's madness to keep order in the city, or to frighten the other Families from acting against them. It was the sort of sly move that wouldn't surprise me, coming from a Patriarch.

These men were utterly ruthless when it came to controlling their territories. But could a man stoop to betraying his son, exposing his son's malady just to promote his own schemes?

***

I got my "rest" after all. For two days, Tony was entrenched in his study with an unassuming young man who I presumed was the accountant he hired. Even though engaged, Tony came out every half hour to ask me some question or another. The constant interruptions were maddening; I could go nowhere and got little done, other than my weekly kitchen inventory with the maids.

But then Tony went back to the casino. Dr. Salmon came to check on Morton — the first time he visited since Morton's arrival without Tony or one of his men hovering.

After the doctor visited Morton, I asked if we might speak privately. We went to my room, and sat at the tea-table.

"I hope all is well?"

I said nothing.

"My dear, something is wrong, or you wouldn't have asked for me. Please, I want to help you."

"Sir, I believe you have betrayed me."

Dr. Salmon's lined face grew pale, and his eyes widened.

"I asked you to keep silent about Roy Spadros and his attack on me. I specifically asked you not to tell my husband, yet you did. I trusted you not to notify Roy about the attack on my husband, yet somehow he knew. You report to my husband. You report to Mr. Roy. Who else do you report to? How can I trust you with anything?"

Dr. Salmon's voice shook. "I'm your doctor. I report to no one. I didn't tell Mr. Roy about the assault, I swear."

I realized: this man is old. And deeply afraid.

"Mr. Anthony beat me," he whispered.

Tony did what?

He spoke as if to himself, his eyes empty. "I brought him to this world, and his father before him — yet he beat me. He so fiercely wanted to learn what had befallen you that I feared for my life." He paused. "He swore no harm would come to you." He leaned forward, peering at me. "Has he hurt you?"

Tony beat Dr. Salmon. I turned away, shame flooding over me. "No."

If I would have told Tony that Roy hit me, this would never have happened. But I felt so afraid ... of Roy hurting Tony, of Tony asking why Roy would hit me ... which would lead to telling him of my failure with Thrace Pike last month. That was humiliating enough without Tony going into a frenzy about it. "I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."

Dr. Salmon didn't speak for some time, and when he did, he sounded sincere. "I wish I knew how to help."

Find me a way out of this city? All I could hope for at this point was to get my mother to safety.

But there was something he might help with. "Doctor, may I ask something unrelated?"

"Of course."

"Mrs. Rachel Diamond. Do you know of her case?"

He nodded. "Mr. Julius Diamond sought counsel from every doctor in the city before his father died."

"Can anything be done for her?"

The doctor shook his head. "She's suffered electrocution of the brain. There's little to be done in such cases."

Something occurred to me. "They were working on a machine, trying to put their brain patterns into it when the accident occurred. Do you imagine her thoughts might be in the machine still?"

Dr. Salmon burst out in laughter. "Oh, my dear, your mind is exquisite. You should take up the writing of fantastical novels! Such a thing is absurd." But then his face sobered. "No, Mrs. Diamond is gravely injured, and has been for some time. I'm sorry. I doubt she'll ever recover."

I felt somewhat embarrassed, as well as sad. I remembered Gardena's grief, and her mother Rachel, a beautiful woman who used to be an Apprentice, trying to eat lamb with a spoon. "I just hoped ... that maybe ... she might get well."

***

The doctor released Morton to do light reading and stroll in the garden, which he felt anxious to do. I accompanied him, just to get a chance to plan what to do next about Frank Pagliacci.

Since our discussion up in Morton's room, Tony seemed to regard him as one of his men. Yet Tony and Sawbuck had been in meetings at least once a day without either of us, to what end, Tony didn't say.

"I feel," Morton said, "that your husband doesn't trust me."

The sun shone pale and wan through the clouds, yet the day was warm. I carried a parasol, but doubted I would need it. "Does it matter?"

He glanced back at Amelia and her daughters, who "by coincidence" were out strolling that day. "I suppose not."

We walked a foot apart and in plain view of the house. What did Pearson think was going to happen? "Why did you leave us, there at the factory?"

Morton let out a breath. "There were so many men, and they thought you were no threat. I reasoned that if I drew them off, you and the boy might escape."

"But why take the carriage?"

He seemed confused. "I was hurt; you were unharmed. If I tried to hire a taxi, the driver would insist on taking me to a doctor, and the police would have been called. The boy needed attention in any case, and I felt certain you had someone you might bring him to who would be discreet."

I nodded. True, every word. "I'm sorry to doubt you. I ... I don't think I was doing much reasoning at the time."

Morton smiled. "You did fine."

"There's one other thing. Why did you use that story about Helen Hart? It's come to cause me trouble."

He turned to me. "In what way?"

"A mutual friend heard the story. Mrs. Hart was extremely ill, and could never have been out boating."

"Oh," Morton said, chagrined. "I had no idea. My apologies. It seemed the best plan under the circumstances."

"Well," I said, "I've taken care of it." I still felt annoyed, but even Josie said the matter was kept secret. I took a deep breath and let it out. "What are your plans?"

"I have a choice: to stay or go. Which I do depends on your husband. I have nowhere to go now that my yacht is destroyed. I dare not return home; I'm sure it's being watched. My plan is to stay as long as I can and see what I can learn of who's betrayed me to the Feds."

"What of Zia?"

He snorted. "Zia." He shook his head. "She is, of course, the most likely candidate, yet has no motive."

I then told him the details of my encounter with her, and her defense of Frank Pagliacci. I had forgotten about it up to this point, what with all that had gone on.

Morton shook his head. "I've never known Zia to be enamored of men. She's always seemed too shrewd, too skeptical, too distrusting of their motives." He paused. "But perhaps this man has fooled her."

It certainly seemed that way. She spoke like a woman in love, whose lover was being falsely accused in a way too vile for her to imagine. "Zia's not your maid, and I can't believe a sister would ever be so false. What is she to you, really?"

He looked away. "For a while, she was my employer. Then my — I suppose the best term would be business partner. Now?" He shrugged. "I don't know whether it would be better for her to be dead or alive. I can't prove she lives, but she's disappeared after telling the Feds I attacked her."

I stared at him in horror. "Zia was a Federal Agent?"

He nodded. "I wish I never met her; she's betrayed me, and possibly them as well. Now I'm hunted."

Anger rose in me, and chagrin. I had her on the ground and I let her get away! "If I knew she was a Fed, I would've killed her the day we fought and saved everyone the trouble."

Morton flinched, but said nothing.

"How is it that you joined the employ of ... were partnered with ... a Federal Agent?"

He kept his eyes on the ground as we walked. "I've known Zia for some time. She was known to my family and came from the same city as my parents. She inherited a great deal of money and hired me to do some work for her. We've worked together ever since." He paused. "She would leave for long periods of time, and her explanations of what happened were incomplete. Perhaps this was when she did her work for them."

I always pictured Feds as grim-faced men in dark spectacles, not as a pretty young woman with red hair who threw sand when cornered. "I'm stunned."

"You might imagine what I felt."

We walked along for a while, the laughter of Amelia's children far behind. Her kiss on his cheek, his obvious distress when he realized she was in danger, his reaction when I spoke of killing her ... "Did you love her?"

He snorted. "Hardly. As I said, she ever distrusted men's motives, and regarded me more as a nuisance than anything else." He paused. "Don't misunderstand me; I enjoy the company and charms of women as much as the next man. But I've never wished to be tied to one. I prefer to go where I please, and when."

I felt much the same way.

We approached a table and chairs set up under an arbor, and we sat. "And what of your employer? Your Red Dog trey?" I felt concerned about Clover, the young "ace" with the eye-patch, and the other boy, like Stephen, the "chip" who I had never met.

Morton shrugged. "Clover's a smart boy, although you wouldn't know it from talking to him. When Stephen was murdered and I went on the run, we met up once — for me to send your dress — and I told him to lay low for a while. He got his friends together, all on his own, and sent messages to every harbor to watch for me. One of those friends brought me here." He leaned his elbows on his knees, and gazed far away. "Saved my life." He straightened. "As far as my employer, he can go to the Fire for all I care. I think he knew Zia was false, and set me up to fail. I mean to find out why."

When we returned to the house, Pearson told me three letters had arrived. The first was a double-sealed letter with a silver-edged white envelope and the Diamond Family's symbol traced in silver on the flap. It read:

My dear Mrs. Spadros —

It is my pleasure to inform you that the matter we discussed earlier has been confirmed. Never fear: I did not give particulars to the gentlemen involved. Please advise your friend to go to the poorhouse outside the Spadros Pot at 10 pm on the last day of the month. Our mutual friend plans to send a carriage.

Most affectionately yours,

Gardena Diamond

I chuckled. So this was Gardena's idea of secrecy. No matter; the seals seemed untouched.

I tossed it in the fire and rang for Pearson.

He opened the door. "Yes, mum?"

"When did Mr. Spadros say he would return?"

Pearson checked a notebook in his pocket. "For dinner, mum."

Perfect. "Then I'd like to go down to Madame Biltcliffe's and pick up my Spring gown. I'll need it for the Celebration."

"I can send someone to get it if you like."

"No need; I'd like to go on a ride. It's such lovely weather. I should be back in time for tea."

Indeed, the day had turned overcast and chill. But Pearson only said, "Yes, mum," and turned to leave.

"Pearson, did you ever learn when Mrs. Molly is 'at home'?"

"Yes, mum. Every day, it seems. Forgive me, the matter must have slipped my mind."

It was unusual for anything to slip Pearson's mind. "Thank you." I turned my attention to the third letter. Also from Gardena, it invited me to luncheon on the 1st of March. This must be when we were to meet with her blackmailer. As long as I was back in time to dress for the Celebration, I didn't think Tony would mind.

I still needed to see Molly in order to learn why Tony never knew of my lessons. But did I really want to go to Spadros Castle?

In the five years since it was built, we had never been invited there. Part of me wanted to visit simply out of curiosity, but the thought of facing Roy Spadros in his home gave me pause.

Perhaps there was another way. I took out paper and pen.

My dear Mrs. Spadros —

I hope you are well.

I did indeed hope she was well. Her husband Roy had a habit of hurting her when angry.

I hope to have the pleasure of your company for tea at the Spadros Women's Club the Twenty-Seventh of February.

Yours very truly,

Jacqueline

I gave the letter to Pearson on my way out.

Molly was "at home" every day? Did she never go calling? I remembered my lonely days "at home," waiting for callers, and began to regret never visiting her.

Perhaps this social call business had merit after all.

When I entered Madame's shop, neither Madame nor any other customers were there. Tenni stood behind the counter. "May I help you, mum?"

"Yes, I believe you are exactly the one who might help. I want to speak with a messenger boy."

Tenni blinked. "But ... why come here?"

"I have a message which can't be written."

"Oh." After pausing for several seconds, she said, "I know just the boy you want."

She went out front and waved a messenger boy over, then bent to speak with him. She came inside. "He's going to get him."

"Very well. I wanted to pick up my Spring gown, too."

Tenni smiled. "I'll box it up for you."

While she was doing that, Honor stood out front, squinting in my direction.

"Is Madame not here today?"

"She's preparing her fees, mum. For January. Your men will be here in a few days to collect their packet."

I forgot the realities of life for businesses here in Bridges. Late payment of Family fees had unfortunate consequences. "Has Madame done any sketches of my Summer dress?"

"Oh, yes," Tenni said. "Come this way."

She led me to a table near the front windows filled with sketch books and opened a thick one with my name on the front. She flipped to a page.

"Very nice," I said. I glanced up; Honor watched me. I waved at him; his face reddened and he turned away. "I think I'll page through this for a while until the boy arrives."

"Yes, mum."

A few customers came and went. After an hour, the boy returned with three others. The smallest was about nine, with white-blond hair and blue eyes, wearing a bright red jacket. Two older boys stood with him.

"Tenni, bring the boys to the counter."

"Yes, mum."

I brought the sketch book to the counter as well, about a yard away from the boys. The various mannequins, racks, and displays hid me from Honor's view. "Hello," I said once the door closed behind them, "are you a boy who can remember things?"

The little boy nodded. "I'm a Memory Boy, mum. That's why I wear the red jacket. I remember everything."

What an adorable child. "What's your name, sweetie?"

"Werner Lead."

I glanced at the large windows: Honor was nowhere in sight. "Well, Werner ... I want you to say this: Tô zami çé isit. Kékènn olé chué twa. Mo konné komen édé twa kité lavil. Va koté lamézon moun pov a diz èr. T'alé trouvé in boggé lá pou twa. Mo linm twa é mo sa lá ak twa kan posib."

This was Kourí-Viní, the language we spoke at home, just me and Ma. I didn't know anyone else who spoke it. "Do you think you can remember that?"

The boy repeated it perfectly.

I beckoned him over and whispered, "To Fanny Kaplan at the Cathedral, Spadros Pot. Okay?"

He looked up at me with his big innocent eyes. "I need extra to go there."

I smiled and handed him a dollar. "Okay. Will this do?"

He grinned at me.

"The men are big and scary there, but they won't hurt you." I gestured to Tenni. "Return here with the answer."

"Yes, mum," Werner said. "Thank you, mum."

I said to the older boys, "You take good care of him."

They nodded. "Yes, mum, we will," and hurried out.

I put a sixpence on the sketch book then slid it across the counter to Tenni. "Thank you." I picked up my dress box.

"I'll send word when they return, mum."

When I went out to the carriage, Honor peered at me with a puzzled expression but said nothing.

Later, I watched Amelia fuss over my new dress. Would Werner get to my Ma and back safely? The adults wouldn't harm him in the Pot. But he had to get to the Pot, and children on both sides of that wrought-iron fence ignored convention.

The two older boys will look after him, I thought.

At dinner, I felt anxious, wanting to hear of the boy's safe return, of Ma's answer, something.

Tony said, "Is anything wrong? You've hardly eaten."

I laughed in spite of myself. What wasn't going wrong in my life? "No, I'm fine."

"I hear you went to pick up your Spring dress today."

I'm sure you did. "Yes, and I saw some sketches of my Summer dress. Madame was occupied, so I'll probably go back in a day or so to choose between them." The mashed potatoes were delicious. "She really has done a wonderful job."

Tony gave me an amused smile. "I remember when you first came here. They had to throw your clothes away, they were so torn and filthy —"

Morton glanced up from his meal, a question in his eyes, and I felt mortified. After they stripped them from me without so much as an if-you-please ... they were all I had.

"— and now ... I'm glad you get to wear pretty things."

That sentiment, coming from Tony, surprised me, cooled my anger. When I considered the matter, it seemed amusing. Even as a child during the lean times, when I would have killed for bread, fine clothes meant nothing to me. Warm clothes, now ... a different story. But once I spent my nights fed and in warmth, fancy dresses did garner a certain appeal. "Thank you; I appreciate them."

Tony gazed at me from the other end of our long dinner table for several seconds. "You deserve beautiful things. Those rags were what you had, I know, but they weren't worthy of you."

Why was he saying these things in front of Blaze Rainbow? "Thank you."

Tony drained his wine glass, set it down. A maid hurried to refill it. "I wish you saw yourself the way I see you."

This interested me. "And how is that?"

"To me, you're the most beautiful woman in the world."

I chuckled. Was Tony drunk? "I'm sure Master Rainbow is embarrassed by such talk."

Morton laughed softly. "Men in love are all alike. You're a very fortunate woman."

Interesting. "Have you ever been in love, Master Rainbow?"

He picked up his wine glass. "Can't say that I have. From what I've observed, it usually doesn't turn out well."

I laughed.

"Well," Tony said, "I plan to be the exception." He rose, and came round to my side. "Now if you'll excuse us —"

Morton grinned. "By all means."

The doorbell rang.

"Now who could that be at this hour?" Tony seemed more than a little annoyed.

"I'll get it, sir," Pearson called out, and the door opened.

Tony said, "I'll see what this is about," and went off around the corner. He came back a few minutes later, a perplexed look on his face. "Mrs. Spadros, there's a child here to see you."

I rose and hurried past him to the front door.

Little Werner Lead and the two older boys stood on the front porch. Werner brightened when he saw me. "She said okay."

"What?"

"The message. She said okay. I asked if that was all, and she said yes."

My mother hadn't seen me, hadn't even tried to get a message to me in six years. When I got a message to her that her life was in danger, all she said was, "okay"?

I woke at the pain in my scalp. I grabbed the hand pulling my hair as I fell hard to the floor.

Ma yelled, "After all I told you, why did you go after him? You could have had another year, maybe two. We could have gotten you out of here. You stupid girl! You've ruined everything!" She yanked me to my feet, dragging me by my arm to the carriage, shoving me inside.

I didn't know any of the women in there. "Ma!" I felt terrified. What was happening?

Ma shook her head as if disgusted at me and went inside without saying goodbye.

Didn't she even care enough about me to send a message? "What made you come here?"

Werner smiled. "The shop was closed. I saw you in the paper on New Year's. I know everyone's address in the city." One of the boys behind him laughed, as if they hadn't known that but weren't surprised by it. He turned to Tony. "Hello, Mr. Spadros."

Tony stammered, "H — hello." Then he gained his composure. "I've never met a Memory Boy before."

Werner held out his little hand. "Werner Lead. A pleasure to meet you." He turned to me. "I better get home." He started down the steps.

"How can we get in touch if we need your services again?" Tony said.

Werner gestured towards the messenger booth down the street. "They all know me," he said, and the three of them disappeared in the gloom.

"How remarkable!" Morton said, from behind us.

"We must recruit that child," Tony said. He turned to me. "Where did you find him?"

"The girl at Madame's shop knew him," I said.

Tony nodded. "Very good." He went back inside and to his study, presumably to make plans for what he might do while using the boy's services.

Morton and I returned to the table.

"Some bourbon, please, Mary." I felt relieved that the boy got to Ma and back safely with the message, but I wished I had the opportunity to ask Werner more about her.

Mary turned to Morton. "Would you like anything else, sir?"

"No, thank you."

She turned and left.

"Looks like you dodged a bullet there," Morton said.

"What do you mean?"

Morton leaned his elbows on the table. "It doesn't take an Inventor to see you don't love the man."

I thought of Mary, and Tony, and the vent below us. "That's rather impertinent, Master Rainbow. Not to mention untrue."

He shrugged. "I've never been known to mince words. And as you'll next tell me, it's none of my business."

"So why say it?" I feigned a laugh, feeling uneasy. "Next you'll be telling me you can take me away from all this."

Morton snorted. "I got cured of that nonsense long ago." Mary brought in my bourbon, then left. "No, you'll do what you need to when you're good and ready." He leaned back. "I just hope too many people don't get hurt in the meantime."

His words angered me. “You won’t enjoy working for Roy.”

“What do you mean?”

I spoke softly. “One day soon, you’ll be given an offer you can’t refuse. A loved one’s location. A secret you’d rather not be revealed,” I studied Morton, but he never moved, “and I wager you’ll become Roy’s creature, just like most other members of this household. And if you refuse ....” Or more likely, from what I’d seen so far, run. “Coming here will probably be what kills you.”

Morton said nothing.

I really didn't want to talk with him anymore, so I went to Tony's study. He lay asleep on his sofa, an empty wine glass on the floor beside him. I rang for Tony's manservant, and we got him into his bed. But I pondered Morton's words later that night. It bothered me that I was so transparent.

Perhaps this was why Sawbuck suspected me.