Wrede, Patricia C - Mairelon 01 (5 page)

           
"Kim.
I got somethin' for Tom."

           
"Ah.
Inside, then."
The man stepped back and Kim
lifted her bundle and followed him in.

           
The back
room of Tom's secondhand shop was a mess, as usual. Clothes were piled
carelessly in every corner and stacked on top of the single chair. Kim saw
everything from a laborer's homespun smock to a tattered but undeniably silk
cravat.

           
Four men
were seated on crates around the rickety table in the center of the room. The
tin cups and the reek of gin made it clear what they had been doing before
Kim's arrival; just at the moment they were staring at her. Two of them were as
unknown to Kim as the doorkeeper. The third was Tom's brother-in-law Jack
Stower, a dirty dish if Kim had ever seen one. He'd never had much use for her,
either.

           
The last
person at the table was a grey-haired man with squinty eyes, wearing a dark
grey coat and a linen cravat. Kim stiffened. "Dan Laverham!" she
blurted. What was that flash cull doing in Tom's back room? For all he carried
himself like Quality, he could call up half the canting crew from
Covent
Garden
to the
Tower
of
London
if he had a need for them.

           
"Kim,
dear boy, how good to see you," the grey-haired man replied. His eyes
raked her apparel, and she was suddenly very, very glad she had hidden her
money so carefully before setting out. Dan would think nothing of ordering his
men to strip her of her hard-won gains, if he knew of them.

           
"Been
a long time," Kim offered, keeping her tone noncommittal. Dan was a bad
one to offend. He was smart and smooth, and he'd hold on to a grudge until the
moon turned blue. She suspected that he was the one who'd turned stag and
peached on Mother Tibb to the constables, though he was too clever to have
acted openly.

           
"That
it has," Dan said, leaning back on his crate as though he sat in a tall,
straight-backed chair. "And to what do I owe the good fortune of your
arrival?"

           
"Says
'e's got sommat for Tom," the doorkeeper said.

           
"Then,
my dear, go and fetch him," Dan replied. The doorkeeper grunted and
clumped up the stairs. Dan looked at Kim. "Do join us," he said, and
waved at the table.

           
Kim shook
her head. "I ain't got time," she lied.

           
Jack
Stower shifted so that his crate creaked alarmingly. "Think you're too
good to have a drop of Blue Ruin with your friends, eh?" he mumbled.

           
It was on
the tip of Kim's tongue to retort that he, at least, was no friend of hers, but
caution restrained her. Gin made Jack's uncertain temper positively explosive,
and she doubted that the other men would intervene if Jack started something.
She tried to make her voice placating as she said, "It ain't that. I got
to meet a man down by the docks in less'n an
hour,
and
I ain't going to finish with Tom in time as it is."

           
Jack
started to reply angrily, but Dan put a hand on his arm and he subsided at
once.
"An appointment on the docks?"
Dan
said. "That's a bit out of your usual way, isn't it?"

           
Kim
shrugged, wishing the doorkeeper would come back with Tom. "I go where the
pay is."

           
"Not
always, my dear, or you would have accepted my generous offer," Dan said,
watching her with bright, penetrating eyes.

           
"I
like bein' on my own," Kim said shortly. And she strongly disliked the
idea of falling into Dan's clutches. He'd have her forking purses off the
market crowds during the day without regard for her scruples, and once he
discovered her sex she'd spend her nights in the stews. Kim had no illusions
about that sort of life. Let alone she had no taste for it, she'd be lucky not
to end swinging from the nubbing cheat as Mother Tibb had.

           
"Well,
let it pass," Dan said, waving a hand. "But tell me, what has lured
you to Tom Correy's establishment tonight?"

           
"Bilking
old Tom out of a tog and kicks, I'd say," Jack muttered.

           
"Quietly, my dear."
Dan's voice was velvet-smooth.
Jack shot him a glance of mingled fear and resentment, but he did not speak
again. Dan gave Kim a look of polite inquiry.

           
"I
got business with Tom," Kim told him.

           
"Really."
Dan's eyes shifted to the bundled
clothes dangling from Kim's right hand, then back to her face. "Not back
on the sharping lay by any chance, are you, dear boy?"

           
"No,
nor I ain't goin' to be, neither."

           
"I
can give you a better price than Tom, if you've any trinkets to dispose
of," the man persisted.

           
Kim
suppressed a scowl. Dan had been trying to get a handle on her for a long time.
He was obviously hoping that greed would get the better of her sense. She shook
her head.
"I ain't got nothin' in your line, Dan."

           
"Pity.
You're quite sure--"

           
The
creaking of the stairs interrupted as Tom Correy came down them, followed
closely by the doorkeeper. Tom scowled at the gin drinkers, but his face lit up
when he saw Kim.
"Kim, lad!
Where've you been
keeping yourself?"

           
"Around,"
Kim said with deliberate vagueness. She didn't grudge Tom the knowledge, but
there were too many interested and not entirely friendly ears present to
overhear.

           
"You
come for another coat?"

           
"What'd
I say?" Jack muttered.

           
"Quiet,
you," Tom said without looking. "It's my shop and I'll run it my way,
see? And the boy looks like he could do with a jacket."

           
"I
ain't after one," Kim said hastily.

           
Jack
snorted and gulped at his cup. Tom looked at her. "What, then?"

           
"I
got some stuff for you to look at. Here." Kim crouched and undid the
bundle.

           
"Where'd
you come by this?" Tom said, studying the untidy pile with disfavor.

           
"Got
it off a bingo-boy up by Spitalfields," Kim said glibly. "What'll you
give me for 'em?"

           
Tom knelt
and examined the clothes more closely. "They ain't much."

           
"Those're
good boots," Kim pointed out quickly. "Some people would give three
shillings just for the boots."

           
"Three shillings?
You must think I'm as lushy as that
lot," Tom said, waving towards the table. "I'll give you a bender for
the whole pile."

           
"Sixpence
ain't enough," Kim said stubbornly.
"Two shillings
ninepence."

           
Dan and
his cohorts soon lost interest in the bargaining and began a muttered
conversation of their own, punctuated by frequent passage of the gin bottle.
Kim watched them warily from the corner of her eye while she dickered. Jack was
thoroughly
castaway
, and one or two of the others
looked at least a little lushy. Dan, however, was being careful not to get the
malt above water; though he passed the bottle and refilled cups with a
comradely air, he himself drank little. And several times, Kim saw him watching
her.

           
By the
time she had finished her bargaining and collected one-and-sixpence from Tom,
Kim was worried. She bade Tom a cordial goodbye and the drinkers a polite one,
then stepped out into the cool, damp night. As the door closed behind her, she
took a deep breath to clear the gin fumes from her head. The fog had thickened;
the street-lamp by the shopfront was a dim smear of yellow light, blurred by
the veil of moisture in the air.

           
Whistling
softly, Kim started down
Petticoat Lane
.
Half a block from Tom's, she cut sharply to the left. She hunted along the
backs of the shops until she found one with a drainpipe she could climb,
then
shinnied up it. She crept to the front of the building
and lay flat, peering down at the street.

           
A moment
later a man came skulking down the street from the direction of Tom's shop. She
couldn't make out his face in the foggy darkness, but his silhouette was stocky
and he moved like the man who had been keeping the door for Dan and his
friends. He hurried by, heading toward the docks.

           
Kim
stayed where she was for a while, considering. Dan had sent the doorkeeper
after her, but why? She could think of no answer. Finally she slid down the
drainpipe and started back toward the City. Her mood was thoughtful, and she
made sure she took a circuitous route. Whatever the reason for Dan's renewed
interest in her, she was sure she wouldn't like it when she found out what it
was. She was glad she'd accepted Mairelon's offer. With any luck at all, she'd
be out of
London
long before Dan
could find her.

           
It was
near
midnight
when Kim arrived back at
Mairelon's wagon and rapped softly at the door. To her surprise, it swung open
instantly. Mairelon stood just inside, dressed in evening clothes fine enough
for gentry. His right eye seemed puffy, but showed no signs of discoloration.
Kim looked more closely and saw streaks of stage makeup, all but invisible in
the dim light. "It's me," she said to cover her sudden, irrational
feeling of guilt.

           
"Ah,
Kim," Mairelon said with no perceptible change in his worried expression.
"I'm glad you're back."

           
"Not
so's you'd notice," Kim muttered as she entered the wagon. "I got rid
of them flash togs, right enough."

           
"Good,"
Mairelon said absently, still frowning at the door.

           
Kim
looked around for some hint as to the cause of Mairelon's abstraction. She saw
no sign of the droopy assistant, and on impulse asked, "Where's
Hunch?"

           
Mairelon
picked up a top hat from the grey tile that topped the row of cabinets by the
door. "I was just going to find that out."

           
"You
mean he's run missing?"

           
"I
sent him on
an
. . . errand. He should have been back
an hour ago."

           
Kim
sighed. "It's your lay. Where do we start lookin'?"

           
"
We
don't start anywhere. You're going to stay here and keep an eye on things, in
case he gets back before I do."

           
"I
ain't fond of sittin' and waitin'," Kim objected. "And if you're that
nattered about it, maybe you ought to take along some help."

           
"I'm
afraid you'd be rather out of place where I'm--" Mairelon broke off in
mid-sentence, and his head turned toward the door. A moment later it swung open
and Hunch climbed into the wagon. He looked at Mairelon, and a disapproving
frown settled over his face. Mairelon grinned like a schoolboy caught in a
prank and tossed his top hat back onto the shelf.

           
Hunch
snorted. "You ain't queering me none, Master Richard. You
was
a-going to go looking for me."

           
"It
seemed like a good idea."

           
"You
'adn't ought to of done it," Hunch said severely.

           
"Yes,
well, I didn't. What took so long?"

           
Hunch
looked at Mairelon sharply, but allowed
himself
to be
drawn away from his scolding. "Couple of sharpers tried to follow me, and
I 'ad to lose 'em afore I come back."

           
"What?"
Mairelon looked up in the act of seating himself on top of the chest that had
caused Kim so much trouble.
"How many?"

           
"Two
as I noticed."

           
"Anyone
we know?"

           
Hunch
shook his head. "I 'adn't seen neither of 'em afore."

           
"Mmm-hm.
I suppose they could have been some of
Shoreham's."

           
"That's
as may be," Hunch said. He sounded both skeptical and disapproving.
Mairelon looked up. Hunch gave a warning jerk of his head in Kim's direction.

           
"What?
Oh, yes, of course," Mairelon said. "Did you get what you went
for?"

           
"Aye."

           
"Well,
let's have it, man!"

           
Hunch shot another look in Kim's direction, then reached stiffly
into one of his pockets.
He pulled out a folded paper sealed with a
great blob of crimson wax and handed it to Mairelon.

           
Mairelon
held it up to the light, edgewise. "The seal hasn't been tampered--oh,
Lord."

           
"What
is it?" Hunch said anxiously.

           
"Shoreham's
done it again," Mairelon replied in annoyance. He turned slightly, so that
his back was to Kim, and muttered something under his breath.

           
There was
a bright flash of blue-white light that left Kim's eyes momentarily dazzled.
When her sight cleared.
Mairelon was squinting at a fine
dust of ashes that drifted from the folded paper. "I do wish he'd stop
using that Egyptian Light-Lock," he complained. "I never manage to
get my eyes shut in time."

           
Hunch
grunted. Kim realized that he had turned his head away before Mairelon broke
the seal, and so escaped the temporary blindness. She glared first at him and
then at Mairelon. One of them might have warned
her what
to expect.

           
Mairelon
shook the letter open and began to read. A moment later he straightened with an
exclamation.
"Tomorrow!"

           
"What's
that?" Hunch said.

           
"Shoreham
wants us to meet him tomorrow evening." Mairelon looked up. "How long
was this waiting?" he demanded, waving the note.

           
"Since yesterday.
Where's 'e looking to be? Same place
as last time?"

           
"Yes."
Mairelon shook his head. "He's in a rush again. Blast the man!"

           
Hunch
considered. "We'll 'ave to leave early," he said at last.

           
"I
know," Mairelon said irritably.

           
"What
about 'er?" Hunch said, jerking his head in Kim's direction.

           
"What?"
Mairelon looked up from rereading the note. "Oh. You wouldn't mind leaving
London
a little earlier than we'd
planned, would you?" he asked Kim.

           
"No,"
Kim said, remembering Dan Laverham and his unpleasant crew. She thought of
mentioning them to Mairelon, but caution made her hold her tongue. If he knew
about Dan, he might change his mind about letting Kim accompany him.

           
"That's
settled, then," Mairelon said. He folded the note and tucked it in an
inner pocket, then picked up his top hat. "I'll be back in an hour or
so."

           
"You
ain't never just leaving without telling me where you're off to!" Hunch
sounded outraged.

           
Mairelon
looked back over his shoulder and smiled angelically at Hunch.
"Exactly," he said, and the door closed behind him.

           
Hunch
glared at the door. After a moment, he transferred the glare to Kim. "And
what's 'e want me to do with you?" he muttered.

           
"I'll
just go doss under the wagon," Kim offered, sidling toward the door. She
wanted to think about what she'd overheard, and she wanted to get away from
Hunch. She also wanted to retrieve the shillings she'd left in her hidey-hole;
she might need them once she left
London
.

           
"No,
you ain't," Hunch said, leaning against the door. "
'E
may be
willing to let you go jauntering about, but I ain't 'aving you blabbing things
all over
London
."

           
"What
things?" Kim asked scornfully.
"You ain't told me
nothin', neither one of you."

           
"Hah."
Hunch squinted at her, and his mustache seemed to droop even more.
"You 'eard enough to make trouble.
And don't gammon me
you don't know it, neither."

           
"Maybe."
Kim studied Hunch. She was rapidly
acquiring a good deal of respect for him; despite his appearance, he was no
fool. "But I ain't
no
troublemaker."

           
" 'Ow
do I know that?"

           
"You've
had time enough to ask questions about me all round Hungerford," Kim said
shrewdly. "And if you ain't done it, I don't know a sharp from a Robin
Redbreast."

           
Hunch did
not reply. He also did not move away from the door.

           
Kim
heaved an exaggerated sigh. "Well, I ain't goin' to stand here arguin'
with you all night," she said. "And I ain't leavin'
London
half asleep, neither. If you ain't letting me out, I'll doss here."

           
She sat
down on the chest with more confidence than she felt, remembering her previous
experience. No explosions or purple sparks followed, so she swung her feet up
and stretched out on top of it. It wasn't as comfortable as it might have been,
but it wasn't cold and there weren't any rats looking to share it with her.
It'd do.

           
She
grinned at Hunch's fulminating expression and closed her eyes. He'd think she
was shamming it, and he'd watch her closely to see that she had no chance to
slip away. So she wouldn't sham. There was no point in wasting however much
time Mairelon planned to take, and no reason not to take full advantage of a
warm, dry, safe place to rest. She grinned again at the thought of Hunch's
probable reaction, and let herself drop into sleep.

           
The wagon
door opened, and Kim came awake all at once. She gave an instant's consideration
to the possibility of pretending she was still asleep, in hopes of hearing
something of interest,
then
rejected the idea. She'd
do better to let them know she was awake, as a sort of expression of good
faith. It wouldn't calm Hunch's suspicions, but at least it wouldn't raise any
more of them. She opened her eyes and sat up.

           
Mairelon
had just entered the wagon. He carried a large parcel under one arm and there
was a worried crease across his forehead; aside from that, he looked like one
of the grand swells Kim had occasionally seen going into the
Drury
Lane
theater
. He glanced
from Hunch's dour face to hers. Kim grinned and stretched.

           
The
worried crease vanished and the corners of Mairelon's eyes crinkled in
amusement.
"Wise of you to have gotten some sleep,
Kim."

           
"I
thought so," Kim said smugly.

           
Hunch
snorted and rose stiffly to his feet. He had been sitting beside the
door,
Kim saw, presumably to block any attempt she might
make to leave. "You're late," he said to Mairelon.

           
"Not
as late as I might have been." The remaining traces of amusement
disappeared from Mairelon's expression. "Are you ready to leave?"

           
"Now?"
Kim said, startled. She glanced
involuntarily at the tiny window in the top of the wagon's door. There was no
sign of an approaching dawn.

           
"Now."

           
Hunch
looked at Mairelon suspiciously. "There's three hours yet afore
morning," he pointed out.

           
"Yes.
And we should be at least two hours gone by then," Mairelon replied.

           
Hunch and
Kim were both staring at him.
"What 'ave you gone and
done now?"
Hunch demanded at last.

           
Mairelon's
lips set in a grim line. Carefully, he put his parcel down on top of the
cupboards. After a moment, he looked up. "I haven't 'gone and done'
anything," he said. "Unfortunately, Andrew isn't likely to believe
that."

           
"You
never went off to
Grosvenor Square
!"
Hunch gasped.

           
"Give
me credit for some sense," Mairelon replied. "No, I met my esteemed
brother outside Renee D'Auber's."

           
Kim's
eyes widened. Everyone in
London
,
from the Prince of Wales to the poorest mud-lark, knew of Mademoiselle Renee
D'Auber. She was the only child of a French wizard who had fled his country
during the Terror and an English Countess who had been generally considered to
have married beneath her. Mademoiselle D'Auber had kept a foot in both worlds.
She was welcomed by all but the most stiff-necked members of the
haut ton.
She kept a select salon attended by magicians, bluestockings, and
intelligentsia, and she was rumored to be a dab hand at spell casting herself.
There were also whispers that she was personally familiar with some of the less
savory elements of
London
society.
The upper classes considered her wild and not altogether respectable; the lower
shook their heads in fascinated wonder at the strange ways of foreigners and
gentry, and pronounced her too clever by half.