Deadly Violet - 04 (22 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

My head was reeling slightly, all the same. I knew I had to trust Cass, but I couldn’t see
– not for the life of me – where this was going.

We were headed back to Union Square, walking at a steady pace. And I felt slightly awkward, a big tall cop following along behind a teenaged housemaid and a little ragamuffin. I started to twirl my billy club again
– there were some of my great-grandpa’s memories still inside my head – and did my best to look nonchalant. But to anybody passing by, we must have made a curious sight.

Cass and Violet were discussing something as they walked. But it was quietly, and I couldn’t make it out.

Union Square opened up before us. The statue and the decorative lampposts and – in this day and age – the canvas-covered market stalls. People in top hats and bonnets milled between them. Wagons were unloading goods, stray dogs coming to investigate and yapping around people’s heels.

Chestnuts were being roasted on a brazier. And vendors were crying out. It looked like a scene right out of Dickens, and I felt pretty amazed to be here.

But it was utterly familiar to the little girl. And Cass, once she is set upon a course of action, lets nothing else distract her. So neither of them slowed down to take a better look, the way that a part of me wanted to. They went in a direct beeline across the wide gray flagstones.

My breath practically froze in my chest, when I saw where they were headed. Clayborne Vernon came in sight, still standing next to his horse-drawn carriage, precisely the same way he’d been when the Eye of Hermaneus had depicted him. But it wasn’t any image, this time. I was looking at the man for real.

His two younger companions bowed, then turned and walked away, leaving the great man standing there. Townsfolk nodded to him as they went by, and some of them tipped their hats. So he was certainly a fellow who was treated with respect.

There were a few mean looking characters out on the edges of the crowd, but none of them came near him. That had to be down to his array of magical abilities.

He was hefty, like his grandson. Had the same bald head, the same drooping moustache, and I could see his cheeks were slightly red. But I could also see that what Gaspar had told us had been right.

He might be a solid fellow physically, but looked as if he had his head up in the clouds. He didn’t acknowledge any of the people who were greeting him. Quite possibly was not aware of them. He was staring off into the middle distance, lost in thought about something or other.

Cassie reached him, stopping a few feet off and telling Violet to hang slightly back. And I stayed back a few yards more. I had no idea what they were going to do, and thought it best to leave them to it.

Cass walked up behind the man and tapped him on the shoulder. And when he spun around, she spoke a few quick words to him.

He looked bewildered for a second. Then he quickly started grasping at his pockets, searching frantically for something. His gaze went across to Violet, who held out the Amethyst for him to look at.

“You dropped it, sir,” she said, in a far sweeter voice than she had used on us.

Clayborne beamed, his moustache scrunching up.

“My word, what a very helpful little lady.”

I held my expression firmly, wondering what the pair of them were really up to. Cass wasn’t above pulling some kind of scam if it got her what she wanted

Vernon was reaching out to take the jewel back, when she put out a hand to stop him. She began talking to him quickly, in a voice so low that
– once again – I couldn’t make it out. The only thing that I could do was stand there, taking in the general bustle round the stalls.

Then I pushed all that out of my mind and studied Clayborne Vernon. When I stared at him closer, I could see the fellow wasn’t looking really like a rich guy should. His clothes might have been expensive when he’d bought them, but he’d allowed them to grow shabby and stained. And there were several buttons missing, and some loose threads hanging off.

The man
was
listening to Cass, but he was looking quite badly off-balance. And partly, it was down to social status. The guy simply couldn’t figure why a girl in servant’s uniform was buttonholing him quite so intently. It just wasn’t an experience he was used to.

But his expression changed by slow degrees. His mood was mellowing
– that much was plain. He kept on glancing down at Violet, his wide features becoming saddened. Then he started asking questions of his own.

Nodded, when he got the answers. Began taking on a thoughtful air.

“And what does your mother do?” I heard him ask the girl.

“She takes in washing, when she can. And mends clothes. But there’s not much work.”

And from that point on, he was the one making suggestions. It was Cassie’s turn to listen and nod. They finally concluded their discussion. And I let out another breath, still stumped.

I closed my eyes a second. Opened them in time to see Cassie do something that took Clayborne Vernon utterly aback.

She held out her right hand, for him to shake.

But this was a Victorian gentleman. I was willing to bet that he’d never shaken hands with a woman in his entire life. His face went a curious shade of puce, and his wide cheeks puffed out.

But then the fellow showed the true strength of his character. He got a grip on himself, nodded briskly, and did it, gripping the slim, pale palm that was being offered him.

“Deal, then?” Cassie asked.

“You have my word,” I heard him mutter. “I must say, you’re a very odd sort for a serving girl.”

And then
– to my astonishment – Cassie turned away and signaled. And Violet stepped up to the man. And calmly handed him the Amethyst.

I felt my heart skip several beats. Her link with our own Little Girl had to be broken, with that simple action.

But Clayborne didn’t know the first thing about that, and simply beamed at her with gratitude.

“Thank you, child.”

He turned the jewel over in his fingers, glad to have it back, and then returned it to his pocket, tucking in the golden chain this time.

Then he reached down, taking Violet by the hand. And the pair of them climbed up into his coach, which went rumbling off in the direction of East Meadow.

You could have cracked my skull with a dinner spoon and called me a boiled egg. I stared after the carriage disbelievingly.

Cassie turned to me, a happy smile across her features. Which was more than you could say for mine.

They felt as if they’d never slacken. What in hell had she just done?

“He’s going to give Violet’s mom a job up at his mansion,” Cassie told me.

Washing and mending for him. Right. He needed it. I got that.

“They’ll have some decent rooms to live in and three squares a day. And next year, Violet’ll begin school. Heaven knows, she’s smart enough that, with a formal education, she ought to do just fine for herself.”

Which was good news, every word of it. There was no doubting that. But I was still trying to figure out how she’d gotten the man to promise any of it. Then I thought I saw the answer.

“You convinced him it was the only way to get the Amethyst back?”

Cassie shook her head. There was a strange look in her eyes I’d never seen before, partially reflective and a little lost in memory.

“That’s part of it, but not the main part.”

And when I looked several shades more baffled, that smile of hers became a little self-satisfied.

“You know that children’s hospital we have, off Colver Street?”

I was puzzled by what sounded like an abrupt change of subject. But sure … of course I did.

“Each of my three kids wound up there, one time or another. So I spent a lot of time around the place. And do you know who founded it?”

I didn’t, but could take a guess. The truth of this whole thing started sinking in, and Cassie’s head bobbed.

“The school I went to when I was a little kid?” she added. “The Clayborne Vernon Elementary, on Maddock Street. There was a big oil painting of the guy up on the wall, at a youth center I used to visit. And his name on several plaques.”

She stared after the disappearing coach admiringly.

“The guy had an ego, like any Vernon. But he was a great philanthropist, particularly when it came to kids. I was so busy running around, it took me a while to put it all together.”

I came from a different background, so would not have figured it out anyway. But I’d been right, bringing her with me. Relying on Cass is always a good call.

Except …

I paused and looked around. The business of the market was still going on at an unbroken pace. People were wandering about, and big iron-sheathed wheels rattled past. But there was no one lying on the ground. No bullet holes in anything. No blood or carnage.

And when I took that in, I practically began to chuckle. And my friend stared at me oddly, wondering why I was doing that.

“Well, this is a first,” I managed to get out. “Cassie Mallory solves a problem by just figuring it out.”

I wasn’t trying to make fun of her, but she looked affronted anyway.

“What are you saying?” she came back at me.

“You didn’t punch anyone. You didn’t shoot anything. You simply used your head. A case of the mind being mightier than the Mossberg?”

And I couldn’t help myself. I started laughing.

Cass drew herself up angrily, her whole face stiffening, then blurted, “Ah, shaddup!”

But then her pupils sparkled. And I felt mine do the same.

This was nearly over. We were heading back.

CHAPTER FORTY

We returned to our own bodies. My vision blurred briefly, and then cleared. We were still in the room full of statuary, facing the dark window. I looked across at Cassie, glad that she was back to normal. And then studied my reflection and surroundings.

Woodard Raine was no longer in sight. There was only Lauren here. She squinted at first, uncertain what was happening. Then realized we were back and looked extremely pleased.

“How long were we gone?” I asked her, anxiety in my tone.

“Only a few minutes.”

It had been a whole lot more than that, where we had come from. And that had been bothering me badly. But timelines then and now didn’t seem to move at the same pace. Maybe that was a part of the way this kind of magic worked.

“Violet gave back the jewel,” I told her. “Has anything changed?”

Lauren grinned in a way that told me plenty had.

“Willets has confirmed it, and the other adepts backed him up. Everything started returning to normal a short while ago,” she told me. “First, the sun went back to yellow. And then people, cars, whole streets began to reappear. Looks like reality is back in the saddle, or what passes for it around these parts.”

And me and Cassie let out big sighs of relief. We couldn’t have hoped for anything better. But the news wasn’t entirely good.

Nothing could be done for the small handful of people who’d been killed. Being mashed up by a grinder couldn’t be reversed. And the damage that had been caused by those swarms of purple bug things still needed repairing.

But those who had been taken from us, who had fallen into purple holes or been inside their houses when they’d disappeared …

They were safe again. The normal boundaries of our lives had been restored, and the doors to other worlds had closed.

But something else was happening. I peered through the window. What the hell was going on out there?

One purple opening still remained, hanging like some misshapen balloon in front of the twisted, blackened undergrowth. And most of the major adepts were standing to either side of it, their arms extended, power dancing from their fingertips.

There were heavy weapons lying in the snow beside them. And huge mauve spatters right the way across the ground. Now that I looked closer, a few of the adepts had them on their clothing too. So what had they been up to in the time that we’d been gone?

“I’ll explain later,” Lauren told me, rolling her eyes slightly.

“But what are they doing?” I asked her. “Looks to me as though they’re keeping that hole open. Which kind of defeats the whole point of the exercise.”

“It’s the final one,” Lauren explained, glancing over at the adepts. “Raine’s managed to persuade the Oon to let go of the people that they took.”

Which was the cherry on the icing, when it came to this particular cake. The three of us went hurrying outside.

A whole crowd of our people had begun emerging, men and women, young and old. And they continued coming in a steady stream. I recognized Heidi Vallencourt up at the very front. And she had her two young cousins with her, holding them both by the hand.

There was an unexpected yell from further back, and another familiar face came pushing through.

Ritchie Vallencourt rushed up to his wife, grabbed hold of her delightedly and kissed her. Then he picked up both the little kids, lifting them to shoulder height and whirling them around.

And me and Cassie exchanged glances at that point, the same thought taking root in both our minds. If this could happen to the sergeant, why not us?

Maybe we’d be re-united with our families, some day. A scene like this might be our own. The joy of it. The unmasked delight on tired faces. We could only hope, and wait our turn.

The column was petering out, by the time that we’d stopped dwelling on that. And naturally, Raine was bringing up the rear. The man turned around and raised a hand in salute. And I could see some huddled purple figures back in the far distance responding in kind, when he did that.

And then the adepts let their arms drop.

And the hole shrank away, disappearing with the faintest pop.

“Pity,” I could hear him mutter. “Interesting sorts. I’ll rather miss them.”

Then he looked around uncomfortably at the great outdoors he had emerged into. And he vanished from sight too.

“Where’d he go?” Lauren wondered.

So I told her it was better not to ask.

The whole business didn’t end as abruptly as that, of course. There were always going to be a few loose ends.

Once the hole had closed back down and we were sure that everyone was safe, Gaspar Vernon turned himself into a blur and transported himself to his mansion. He reappeared a minute later with a familiar purple jewel held in his fist.

“Found it in my desk drawer,” he explained to us. “And you know what? My memory of it ever being lost is beginning to fade.”

So maybe that was another part of the way that this Ancestral Linkage cast its magic. But it was very good news, all the same. The Landing’s come under attack from supernatural beings in the past, some of them so powerful the adepts couldn’t handle them. But with the Amethyst to hand, we had a strong new weapon for the town’s defense.

“Put it someplace safe,” I advised Gaspar.

But he was not his grandpa, and did not need telling.

And a while later, when everything was winding down and people were starting to take their leave, Martha Howard-Brett confided to me, “Lehman’s agreed to move into my place.”

When I shot her a sideways glance, her smile grew awkward and she flushed.

“Oh, no. He’s a dear, but it’s nothing like that. I’ve a guest cottage out back of my property, and I’ve told him he can have it. I could use the company, for one thing. And I can’t bear the thought of him living in that dingy cellar any longer.”

The significant fact here wasn’t that she’d made the offer. The real deal was that Willets had accepted it. He’d finally begun the process of forgiving himself, and getting back to living some kind of real life. I was glad he was re-joining our community, and knew I wouldn’t be the only one.

But even loose ends peter out at some stage. What you’re left with, after that, is satisfaction at a job well done, a slight sense of resentment that you had to do it in the first place. And finally, exhaustion. How much sleep had any of us gotten in the past couple of days?

Conversations trickled to an end. People’s eyes became glossy and thoughtful. And we wound up going our separate ways. Personally, I could think of nothing but the comfort of my bed.

But I had one more thing to do.

The front door to 51 Bethany was slightly ajar, the way it always had been in the past when I had come here. And the lock was back in place. There was no sign of any damage to the woodwork, in spite of the fact that Cass had put a big hole through it not so long ago.

I went into the dim silence, then headed up the stairs. And when I reached the upper landing, the door to the nursery was partially ajar as well, and I could see a wash of pale blue light.

“Hello, Mr. Ross,” she said, when I walked in.

The Little Girl was hanging where she always did, revolving slowly, her blond lashes closed. Everything was back to normal here as well. The drapes behind her were tightly drawn. None of their hooks were even damaged. And, since the fabric wasn’t moving in the slightest, I guessed the windowpane had been fixed too.

“Looks like you’ve been making some repairs,” I said.

“Oh, yes. It was necessary.”

Then her pale brow creased up.

“And the town’s repaired as well. That’s down to you.”

“Not only me. There was a lot of help from friends.”

She took that in, her small lips pursing.

“Yes. That is important. Is the other child all right?”

“She’s going to be fine,” I told her.

“I’m really glad to hear that. What happened … wasn’t her fault.”

“I’m surprised you couldn’t stop her,” I pointed out quietly. “Never known you to get in that kind of fix before.”

Another set of furrows appeared on her temples.

“Mr. Ross, I can’t do everything. I’m only a little girl.”

And that was too much for me to take. So I simply came out with it.

“No, you’re not,” I corrected her. “What
are
you, really?”

She looked deeply puzzled, her face going blank. I stood there for over a minute, just watching her turn.

“Am I going to get an answer?” I asked finally.

The mildest wrinkle of a smile appeared.

“It’s a question that will answer itself in its own good time. In fact, time
is
the real answer, Mr. Ross.”

And she often talks in riddles. But that was the most peculiar one I’d ever heard. I turned it over for a while, trying to make some sense of it. But there was none that I could see.

“That’s the only thing you’re going to tell me?” I inquired.

But again, I got no reply.

“Fine, then,” I conceded. “I’m glad that you’re okay, is all.”

“Thank you, Mr. Ross. What are you going to do now?”

“I thought that you could read my mind?”

“I can,” she told me. “I was simply making polite conversation. You are going home.”

And of course I was. Since … where else was there?