Steampunk Carnival (Steam World Book 1) (22 page)

“Are they looking for him?”

“Of course.” Katya scanned more of the article. “The police are going to throw out Mr. Warden’s case against Mr. Kelly if he doesn’t return.”

Maddox spoke up. “Why would he? Just to wave those death threats around?”

“Exactly. Mr. Kelly’s going to go free.” Katya tried to think of what that might mean.

Mrs. Weeks glanced around the front hall and up the staircase. “Where’s Magdalene? I haven’t seen her one evening this week.”

“She’s been all over town, talking to people, mostly the workers. She’s been trying to find out what they really think, trying to rally support for Mr. Kelly.”

Katya knew what it could mean. Victory, in the greatest sense of the word. Not simply justice against Mr. Warden but the realization of their biggest dream: Brady taking his rightful place as the owner and manager of the Steampunk Carnival.

For several days, the headlines tracked the uncertainty of the carnival’s future. Despite Magdalene’s best efforts, her name dotted the papers. Reporters cited her continued displays of support for Brady, leading right up to the rumor she would soon speak on his behalf at a carnival shareholders’ meeting.

Katya sulked about that. She did not mind appearing in the papers only as a victim of violence and the retriever of the journal from the trash. She wished with all of her aching bones and discolored flesh that she could join Magdalene in front of those grumpy old investors. Katya walked Magdalene to the front porch, where Mr. Davies waited with his carriage to drive her to the meeting.

Katya gave her friend a warm hug. “Best of luck.”

Magdalene nodded. Her long days strolling the city and longer nights visiting the carnival’s perimeter showed in the shadowing of her face. At Katya’s insistence, atop her normal, everyday outfit, Magdalene wore a red hat decorated with steampunk buckles and shining gears. “How do I look?”

“Perfect. They’ll remember how magical the carnival is, and they’ll want to side with you. I wish I could go. I could convince them.”

“Not with your face all yellow and green,” Magdalene said, gentle and pitying. “We want them to remember the carnival for what it was, for what Mr. Kelly would make of it. A safe place. A place to enjoy ourselves.”

Katya knew this, but it did not stop her from imagining herself flinging the door to the meeting room wide open. She would strut in, dressed from head to toe in her spectacular steampunk garb, and convince them to replace Mr. Warden with Mr. Kelly through a long, impassioned speech.

Magdalene disappeared out the door, and Katya dragged herself back to the unfinished book waiting for her in the living room.

By the time Mrs. Weeks arrived with a copy of the
News
the next evening, Katya knew the story. Magdalene’s earnest plea had won over the group of shareholders – half of whom, she informed Katya, were not old curmudgeons but young entrepreneurs. With the shareholders’ and most of the employees’ approval, Mr. Brady Kelly was named acting manager of the carnival. Over time, with his salary, he could purchase Mr. Warden’s share of it and own its majority.

The next afternoon, when the door knocker sounded, Katya expected to hear Maddox’s voice greeting Mrs. Weeks. Instead, from her settee in the living room, she heard Brady’s much more formal, awkward entreaty.

“Good day, ma’am.” There was a pause, and Katya imagined Brady tipping his hat. “My name is Brady Kelly. I work for the...”

“The carnival,” Mrs. Weeks finished excitedly.

“Yes, ma’am. I wanted to thank Miss Romanova personally. I wondered if I might speak to her.”

Katya set down her magazine and walked the length of the hall to the front door. Brady’s thin body looked rattled and worn, but his eyes sparkled. He gripped his hat in his hands.

Mrs. Weeks glanced at Katya. “Mr. Kelly to see you, dear.”

Katya nodded. She could not take her eyes off Brady. He was the first person she had seen from the carnival in over a week who was not a friend or a lover. Seeing him made her realize, made her
know
in her bones the fight against Mr. Warden was over. “Please come in, Mr. Kelly.”

Brady stepped in past Mrs. Weeks, who shut the heavy door. In a motion Katya did not expect, Brady threw his arms around her back and sobbed. She held onto him, feeling the shake and heave of his chest against her body.

“Thank you,” Brady said when he could speak. “Thank you so much. Not just for me. For Sarah and Nathaniel, too. If there were anything I could do to pay you back for what you’ve done for me, I would do it.”

“All I want is my job at the carnival.”

“You’ll always have it. You know that.” Brady stepped back and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. He wiped his face.

“I know Magdalene will be happy to know you’re out of jail.”

“She knows, miss. She met me when they released me.”

Katya looked down at the bell of her dress, too wide for her to see the toes of her shoes. “I’m glad. I didn’t know she met you. I’m not told much these days. I’m just trying to stay out of the way until my face heals.”

“Miss Romanova, I hope you won’t wait that long. I’m reopening the carnival in a couple of days.”

Katya looked up quickly. “You are?”

“Yes, as soon as I can. There are people waiting to go back to work. I’m told a few have quit, so I’ll have some positions to fill.”

Katya edged toward him, her fingers fidgeting against each other. “Mr. Kelly, I was thinking. I wanted to find a way to help the homeless who sleep in the pews of St. John’s Church. I thought some of them might have skills you can use.”

Brady smiled, the wrinkled skin constricting around his eyes in gratitude. “Thank you. I’ll check there first.”

The knocker rapped at the door, and Mrs. Weeks pulled it open.

Stationed on the porch, Maddox lifted his hat. “Good afternoon.”

Brady set his own hat back on his head. “I should be going. I’ll be in touch about the carnival reopening. The police gave me Warden’s keys, so I’ll have to find the employee records in his office.”

“A lot’s going to change, isn’t it?” Katya asked, hopeful but knowing the answer.

“All for the better, Miss Romanova.”

“Good luck at the carnival.”

“Thank you.” Brady turned as Maddox stepped into the hallway. “Have a pleasant afternoon.” Brady slipped out the door and crossed the porch to the steps.

Mrs. Weeks closed the door. “I can hardly keep track of all your visitors.”

Katya beamed at Maddox. She could never help her heart from soaring when he fixed her with so much adoration. “This is the last visitor I expect today, Mrs. Weeks.”

“Perhaps it’s time I finally visit the carnival. Do you think it’ll be running smoothly enough to give me a good experience?”

“I’m sure it will. Whatever you want to do, Mrs. Weeks.”

Maddox’s eyes roamed Katya’s figure from the hem of her dress to the curls of her hair.

Mrs. Weeks started down the stairs, muttering to herself about where she had last left her glasses.

Maddox stepped forward, and Katya met him with a full, lingering kiss. His face was still close to hers when he spoke. “So the carnival’s reopening.”

“Soon. Very soon. You’re staying on under the new management, aren’t you?”

“Of course. That’s the only way I can see you at night.”

Katya laughed and pulled away from Maddox even though she wanted to remain as close as possible. She did not know when Magdalene would come home or when Mary might need to pass through the hall to clean.

“When do I get to hear the rest of the story?” Maddox asked. “The whole story, all the way from the beginning. Not the abridged versions for Mrs. Weeks and the newspapers.”

“They’ve gotten most of it. They’re only missing scraps.”

“Hasn’t the carnival had enough secrets?” Maddox teased her.

Katya reveled in having Maddox near her, both of them safe after so much risk. “Yes, but these are the kinds of things that can’t hurt anybody. I’ll tell you everything in time.”

If Mr. Warden had stayed in town and managed to win the battle facing him, the carnival reopening would have unfurled much differently. Katya imagined huge, colorful banners on every section of the fence. Mr. Warden would have doubled, if not tripled, the size of the band. He would have searched high and low for the perfect act to host on the side stage. He might have given away some sort of cheap prize or keepsake to every guest as an incentive and celebration.

Brady’s reopening, like him, was marked by simplicity, humility, and honesty. He hired several of the city’s homeless as security and maintenance. No special banners graced the perimeter, but a newly constructed sign welcomed visitors in place of the original bearing Mr. Warden’s name:
Mr. Brady Kelly’s Carnival For All Ages
. The other signs hung where Mr. Warden left them.

Brady gave a small speech to his employees before the gates opened. Katya took more interest in watching the expressions of the others than hearing Brady’s actual words. They seemed to accept him as their new boss despite how unlike the dashing, charismatic Mr. Warden he conducted himself. Brady’s final announcement was a reminder that all children under the age of twelve would be allowed free entrance to the carnival that night. Katya could hardly wait, outfitted in shades of blue from crown to ankle. She felt at home, and when she caught Maddox’s approving gaze, she knew she looked the part.

Katya was surprised at first how effortlessly she slipped back into her routine of walking the carnival. She should not have been, she told herself. She had walked it almost every night for over a year. Brady had shown her a few sketches he had drawn in police custody, waiting to be released. They held new ideas for the carnival, new rides and games, new places for new stages.

Katya tried to picture it, Brady’s vision for the carnival. It would not be Mr. Warden’s ideal layout anymore, with the food stalls and final game tucked in the back, luring customers past all the more frivolous attractions. Brady trusted his guests to know what they wanted and to stay long enough to experience it.

Within a few weeks, by the time Katya’s bruises faded from her fair complexion, the carnival returned to its normal, smooth operation. Katya aided guests from one side of the grounds to the other, excitedly informing them what fresh attractions they could look forward to in the coming months. She stopped by the food stall on occasion to talk to Magdalene, especially when her crimson-clad friend was cooking instead of dealing directly with customers. Brady allowed Irina to trade off regularly with Magdalene, and Katya had never seen Irina in a better mood. She carried out her duties as a strict professional, but pure joy tugged at the corners of her thick mouth from time to time.

The crowds packed in so densely, Katya could hardly believe the coincidence of running into anyone she knew. Mrs. Weeks kept her word, showing up with a small entourage of friends. Katya appointed herself their personal guide and gave them a spirited tour of the grounds designed to make them carnival guests for life.

Katya was still congratulating herself on a performance well given when she caught a flash of green amongst the black jackets and yellow dresses. She almost continued on her way before she remembered the woman in ill-fitting clothing who had frequented the carnival so long ago. Katya ducked back through the crowd, trying to find the green again in a sea of blues and purples. She might have given up hope if her curiosity had not been strong enough to drive her all night if need be.

Katya spotted the woman more clearly. She had stopped with her back to Katya, not as certain as she once was about heading to Mr. Warden’s office. She hesitated by the corner of the Beast, not far from the game stall where Katya had first approached Brady. He walked the grounds himself now, seeing to guests before attending to the account books. A new man stood in the stall with only one set of rings to hand to customers. Brady had straightened out all the games when he took over.

Katya sidled up to the woman, hoping she was not approaching the wrong guest. This woman had the same shining black hair, the same lackluster bonnet. Katya patted her lightly on the shoulder. “Pardon me. Do you need some help?”

The woman twirled to face Katya. She bounced a baby in her arms, swaddled loosely in pink cotton. Her dark eyes strained wide with confusion. “I’m looking...” She sighed. “No, I’m... I wondered if somebody might know where Mr. Warden ran off to.”

“No, I’m sorry. Nobody knows. We don’t expect to see him again.” Each of Katya’s professions made the woman look more lost and disheartened. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“I... I don’t think so.” The woman lowered her face to the baby, bouncing her bundle a little faster but just as smoothly.

Katya remembered too well Mr. Warden’s impact on her and her life. She wanted to help, and she would not walk away unless she knew there was nothing she could do. The great Beast’s metal cars rattled and careened over their heads as Katya reached out and touched the woman’s shoulder. “My name is Katya. I was like an assistant to Mr. Warden, or maybe I wished I was. I saw you here a couple of times. I know you were talking to him.”

The woman nodded. A thin wetness glimmered in her eyes as she raised them. “My name is Gianna. This is my daughter, Lucretia.”

“Mr. Warden’s daughter,” Katya said. She admonished herself for saying it so bluntly, so sure of herself. She should have asked. She should not have mentioned it at all.

“Yes,” Gianna admitted. “I told him she was on the way.”

“He didn’t believe you?” Katya stroked Lucretia’s soft, supple cheek with her fingers.

“He said it could be anyone’s. I told him it couldn’t.”

Katya recalled the calculating flash in Mr. Warden’s eyes when she had pulled away and denied him the kiss he tried for. She could only imagine the expressions and coldness Gianna must have met with. “Was he mean to you?”

“A little. Not as cruel as the German.”

“Mr. Lieber?” Katya’s heart skipped as her mind raced to make connections she never thought she would.

Gianna looked down at her baby. “I think so.”

“Were you here on the night he died?” Katya asked, choosing the least accusing of words.

“I was here much earlier,” Gianna insisted. Her eyes shot up, wide and sharp with panic and pleading.

“I’m sure you were,” Katya assured her.

“I was.”

Katya remained determined to tease out the rest of the story. “But Mr. Warden wasn’t in his office, was he?”

“No. I didn’t see him at all that night, only the German. But this was hours earlier.”

“Of course.” Katya edged closer to Gianna. “I know what a bastard he was, pardon my French. I’m sure he wasn’t pleasant for you to deal with.”

Gianna’s jaw quivered. “Would you mind holding my baby?”

Katya gathered Lucretia into her arms.

Gianna produced a handkerchief from her threadbare purse and patted it under her watering eyes. “I’ve never been spoken to like that. I’ve had things yelled at me. I’ve heard the rough way men talk to each other, but that man...”

“I’m sorry.”

Gianna shook her head. “I was polite. I assumed Mr. Warden was in his office as usual, so I let myself in. When I saw it was just him – Mr. Lieber – I asked him where I could find Mr. Warden. One look at me, and he guessed the whole thing. He told me to go home and find an ignorant cuckold to take care of my child.”

Gianna pressed the handkerchief to her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut. She sobbed into the wadded fabric.

Gianna’s pain tore at Katya’s chest. She held Lucretia against her, safe and loved.

Gianna recovered and dotted her cheeks dry. “So I left,” she said hurriedly. “I was very upset, and I left Mr. Warden’s office. I left the carnival as quickly as I could. I never came back until tonight.”

“Gianna.” Katya waited until the woman stopped stuffing the handkerchief into her purse and met her gaze. “I know what you did, and I’m glad. I’m glad, and I’m not the only one.”

“Please don’t send me to prison.” Gianna’s fingers pulled at Katya’s sleeve through thin gloves.

“I won’t tell a soul. You should be paraded up and down Washington Street as a hero if you ask me. Most of us hated him.”

“What happened to his wife?” Gianna’s fear compounded, tensing deep folds into her features.

“Don’t worry about her. She can’t feel pain anymore.” Katya left a light kiss on Lucretia’s wrinkle-free forehead and passed her to Gianna. “Do you have a decent place to stay?”

“We’re rooming with my parents for now. It’s not much, but it’s clean.”

“Do you need a job?”

“No. I clean houses over on the east side.”

“If you need anything, Gianna, I’m serious. Let me help you. I know how charming Mr. Warden was.” Katya wondered at how long she had savored the feeling of his hands on her body. “He was good at many things. You could be standing in a crowd of women, and if he looked at you, you believed you were special.”

For the first time, Gianna nodded in relief, the tension releasing from her face. “Yes.”

“I do understand. Take care of yourself and Lucretia. Don’t be afraid to come to the carnival. I’ll be the only one who knows who you are.”

“Bless you, Katya.” Gianna leaned forward and pecked Katya on both cheeks. She walked away toward the exit with Lucretia held tightly in her arms.

Katya released a long breath. She could see the scene play out, all the details Gianna had not provided. She was a slight woman in messy clothes. She would have stepped into Mr. Warden’s office with a hopeful, hopeless expression that Mr. Lieber would have pounced on.

“What do you want?” he would have demanded. Katya could not decide if his tone would have been condescending or humored by Gianna’s appearance.

“I’m here to see Mr. Warden,” Gianna would have answered. Mr. Lieber’s piercing gaze would have made her shift her limbs uncomfortably in the baggy sleeves and oversized skirts. “Do you know where I might find him?”

Mr. Lieber looked Gianna over, seeing from his angle what Katya never could from the back and through the thick crowds. Gianna attempted to hide her extending belly under unnecessary drapes of fabric. “Go home,” he sneered, enjoying the opportunity to turn away one of Mr. Warden’s many affairs. “Find yourself a cuckold willing to raise that little brat.”

Gianna, whether more words were spoken or not, let her temper rule out over fleeing the office in broken tears. She grabbed Mr. Warden’s letter opener – Katya saw it as a recently sharpened blade, perhaps with a fancy sterling silver or inlaid pearl handle – and without thinking, speared it into Mr. Lieber’s neck. He never would have expected it. He would not be laughing now, realizing that the ripping pain and spurting blood were going to leave him dead on Mr. Warden’s hand-chosen carpet. Gianna must have been horrified at herself. How long had she stayed? Did she reach her hands out to try to help, or did she turn and run?

No, Gianna would not have run. She would not have called that kind of attention to herself. She might have noticed she had blood splattered on her jacket and taken it off as she left the office. She would have made herself walk across the entire depth of the carnival grounds to the gate, her jacket folded neatly over her forearm. She would have gone home, washed the jacket or burned it. By that time, Katya was walking innocently into Mr. Warden’s office and finding the police there.

Someone tapped Katya’s arm, and she jumped. Brady stood beside her, his confidence wavering under the brim of his new black top hat.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

Katya rushed to reassure him. “Yes. I was just helping someone, and she’s been taken care of. I was thinking of where I should go next.”

“You can always try the entrance, but then again, you’ve worked here longer than I have. I won’t tell you how to do your job.”

“Can I tell you something, Mr. Kelly?”

Brady raised his eyebrows.

“I’d rather work for you than anyone else in the country.”

Brady suppressed a smile. “I haven’t been in charge long. I haven’t made many alterations yet. You might change your mind.”

“I don’t think I will. For the first time since I started this job, I trust the person I work for.”