A Lesson in Love and Murder (21 page)

Jasper waited for the truck, keeping Jem close at hand. “I don't like your being here,” he whispered.

“That isn't the first time I've heard that from you, and it won't be the last.” She snickered. “But Silent Jim means to prove his worth.”

Headlights blared through the crack of the door Jasper was
propping open. A moment later, a door slammed shut and a figure appeared at the door Jasper pried wide.

Jem gasped.

“Tony,” Jasper said.

Tony Valari seemed at a momentary loss of words. “Constable Forth.” He seethed. “What in heaven's name are you doing in Chicago?” Tony looked over Jasper's broad shoulder as if his brother-in-law might pop up from behind.

Jasper motioned behind his back for Jem to stay clear away, and she backed slowly farther into a dark corner. Jasper followed Tony to the truck and watched him crank open the boot. Jasper wasted no time in hauling boxes from the trunk of the van and to the open door.

“What are you doing here?” Tony repeated as Jasper set perfunctorily to his task and with an ease a man like Tony could only envy. Several minutes later, most of the crates transferred, Tony having done little to speed up the process, they faced each other in the dim light. “I could tell Hedgehog who you are,” Tony said.

Jasper was nonplussed. “You could. But I could tell him about you.”

“And what exactly would you say? You're in a far more dangerous situation with him than I would be. Who is he more likely to want near him—a copper or a man who gets the job done?”

“Your trunk is empty now, Tony. If I were you, I'd clear out before Ray finds you.”

“He's here too?” Tony cursed.

“And in little mood to see you, I am sure.”

A second later, Jasper heard the van kick into gear and the wheels screech over the pavement outside.

*
Stolen.

C
HAPTER
F
IFTEEN

One can never be too cautious when lives are at stake. Man's word is only as good as his deed. Never take anything at face value, even those who rest on word of mouth and laurels. Your instinct is as important as any compass or guide.

Benfield Citrone and Jonathan Arnasson,
Guide to the Canadian Wilderness

B
enny and Merinda took their cues from David Ross. And he seemed happy with the way things were moving. “Hedgehog gets the job done.” He smiled as he walked them through the warehouse. “We just have two days until the convention, and Hedgehog has been invaluable.”

“Roosevelt's Progressive Campaign,” Merinda said.

“Exactly. There will be a lot of boring speeches the first day. The introduction of delegates. But the second day is when the man himself will speak. And we want the afternoon to go off with a bang.”

Before Ross could laugh at his own pun, Benny cut in, “So you use this warehouse to get your shipment?”

“Exactly.”

Merinda looked about. “Rather quiet. The man I saw rustle up a crowd in Toronto should have more followers.”

David shook his head. “Sometimes less is more. For this particular statement, I need people I can trust. Your determination. Your coming here inspires me, Miss Herringford.”

“And I suppose a trolley explosion is the work of but a few.”

David eyed her quizzically. “Of… of a few. Of course.”

Benny, inspired by Merinda for different reasons, felt himself surprisingly tense the more David leaned into her and explained the ins and outs of the operation.

The receiving area of the warehouse was populated by a few very familiar faces. Jasper and Jem (of all people!) carefully opening each “maple syrup” crate and extracting the sticks of dynamite from wood shavings.

Merinda excused herself. “I think that fellow might not know how to properly excavate the explosive,” she said lamely, bounding in Jem's direction.

She dropped to Jem's level. “Jemima!”

“Silent Jim!” Jem said through gritted teeth. “No one here knows I can talk.”

Merinda huddled closer. “I can't have you getting sidetracked and wandering around the city in pursuit of DeLuca when I need you.”

Jem snickered. “Exactly how long did it take you to get over my absence before you found Benny Citrone?”

“Explosives,” Merinda said quickly, driving Jem's eyes back to the shipment.

“From Spenser's,” Jem whispered.

“Well, David Ross was clearly in Toronto with a mission other than his undying support for Emma Goldman,” Merinda said while Jem carefully extracted a few cases of gunpowder. “Indeed, I think it quite likely that he has burned any precarious bridge he had here.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, Silent Jim, to transport explosives in maple syrup crates from Spenser's cannot be the easiest task.”

“Maybe that's what he wants.” Jem hypothesized. “The least likely scenario.”

Merinda rose and brushed the dirt of her trousers.
The least likely scenario.

Merinda reached into her vest and extracted her torchlight, brushing it over the circumference of the warehouse until it settled on a
small man with close-set ears and another man beside him. A very familiar man.

DeLuca.

Silence deepened over the warehouse, and she thought of Jem: her teary eyes and pale face, the reason for her queasiness on the train, her anger at DeLuca's frankly abhorrent attempt at a consolation note. She would have none of it. If this man, however fond of him she was, was to be worthy of her glorious, intrepid, and wonderful best friend, he would have to do a better job of protecting and providing and, well, being there. A lesson had to be learned. She sidestepped and moved in front of him, tilted her chin, propelled back her arm, and did a frankly horrible job of slamming him in the jaw.

Merinda, of course, had no experience in fisticuffs, and while she was angry at him, she couldn't bear to look at the face she would be driving her fist into. Thus, she flinched, her aim was misdirected, and her bunched knuckles caught him somewhere between his cheek, his nose, and his eyes.

Ray fell back, clutching his nose. When she dared to look, she saw that his fingers were stained red.

A sound emitted from the small man beside him.

“I suppose I deserve that.” Ray sounded as if he had a cold.

“You two know each other?”

Ray pressed his sleeve to his nose. “Our paths have crossed before. On bad business. Bad business that wasn't
entirely my fault
.” The end of the sentence was a bit of a plea.

“Harrumph!” said Merinda

Hedgehog looked Merinda up and down. “You're a woman.”

“I am here with David Ross,” she said by way of explanation. She looked at Ray. “You better be a little
more attentive
to Silent Jim's
willingness to assist
!”

“Silent Jim is not prepared to be patient.” He clenched his teeth. “Silent Jim is too eager to provide the end user with the goods without thinking things through! Rather like someone else I know.”

An hour later and all the crates had been unpacked. Hedgehog
promised Benny, Merinda, and David that another shipment would be ready for them by midafternoon the next day. David and Hedgehog went to consult on more specifics for the coming days, and Jasper, Benny, Merinda, Jem, and Ray stepped into the starlight.

“It's really rather convenient,” Merinda said lightly, “that they have such an easy channel for getting these explosives from Toronto.”

“There's definitely someone I have to arrest when I get back,” Jasper said with a whisper. “I just don't know who.”

“They'd need someone with major shipping influence too,” Ray added. “This place serves as a front for the more important shipments. Humphrey and Williams—a large department store. Hedgehog's crew makes deliveries. Clearly not from the usual shipping companies. So they must pay someone there.”

“So it stands to reason,” Merinda theorized, “that someone in Toronto who had the same warehouse space and the same access to ships and barges would be able to take a cut of any illegal explosives being sent from there.”

“Tad Spenser,” Ray and Jasper said at the same time.

“Who else straddles both worlds?” Ray wondered aloud. For a moment, Merinda forgot she was angry at Ray.

“Exactly.”

“It's so easy that Spenser would be taking a cut of whatever is shipped out through his warehouse, just as the men here are taking a cut when it's delivered. I mean to follow this Hedgehog trail a little further,” Ray said. “Especially now that we know Tony is involved. I can keep close to him.”

Merinda nodded. “And Benny and I will stay near Ross. Pretend like we're going through with setting off this trolley explosion near the convention.”

“How are you going to stop it?” Jasper asked.

Merinda shook her head. “Of that I am not quite sure.” She swatted at Benny's arm. “But we'll think of something, won't we?”

Benny nodded.

Ray took Jem's hand and tugged her toward the main street. “I'll see Jem home,” he said with a nod to Jasper, who turned in the direction of the lodging house.

Merinda and Benny had already lapsed into a debriefing of the evening's activities, and Ray wondered if they would ever find their way back from under that streetlamp.

He playfully nudged Jem's shoulder and inclined his head in Merinda's direction. “I've never seen her so… attentive.”

Jem smiled. “I'm sorry she hit you.”

“I deserved it, Jemima,” Ray said, pulling her into his side. “At least
somebody
is looking out for you.”

“I can look after myself! Look at how I found you this afternoon.”

They fell into silent rhythm, Jem clearly made happy just from his nearness. At one moment leaning her cheek against his shoulder, the next slowing her steps and stalling his rhythm with a tug of his arm so that silence unfurled about them and the pesky end to their moonlit journey was delayed.

Too soon, they neared the intersection of Wabash and Monroe and the bright lights of the Palmer House.

“You could stay here with me, couldn't you?”

Ray shook his head. “Now that I know Tony works for Hedgehog, I want to stay close. Hedgehog has my address at the flophouse. Besides, you're safe with Merinda, and I don't want to leave Jasper there on his own.” He laughed. “One of my strongest skills is blending into rooming houses with abhorrent conditions.”

Jem nodded her understanding. “But I will see you tomorrow.”

“I am sure of it.” The hotel was in view, and as they neared it, he leaned against the brick, pulling her to him. Being nearly the same height, it was difficult for him to tuck her head under his chin, so he settled for pressing his lips to her forehead instead.

“It turns out I am quite adept at criminal activity,” Jem boasted, relishing the stolen moment.

“Quite.” Ray affirmed. “And yet… ”

“You're going to reprimand me, aren't you? For being here. For… ”

Jem loosened herself from his grip, and now they leaned side by side, shoulders brushing.

“I'm never without words,” Ray said. “Except when it comes to you. You take them all from me. And now I'm in this horrible city living in the seediest working men's hotel and unable to get rid of the stomachache I've had worrying about you and that terrible note. Just leaving you… ” He tapped his cheek, the one emblazoned with Merinda's fist, while his eyes stared at her ruefully. “Dragging you with me to see Hedgehog and whatever horrible activity he is… ”

She laughed, truncating his sentence. A bitter note undercut its usual chime. “You're always going on about that window. The one that never fully shuts. How you mean to find someone to fix it and replace the glass. But the truth is you don't want it to shut. You need that sliver of open air coming through. You need an escape route—something that will allow you to sneak away. Oh, don't look at me like that. You know I am right.” Her voice reached a heightened, emphatic whisper. “But there you are, standing there, reprimanding me for taking the same opportunity. For wanting the same adventure.”