The Friday Society (19 page)

33

The Tower

T
HE
T
OWER OF
London loomed in that sublimely terrifying fashion that it always did. Dark stone, made darker by soot and an overcast night sky, it emerged from the fog like an evil sorcerer’s castle. Built for many purposes, it seemed that its primary function was to intimidate. A palace, a fort, a prison, a mint, the war offices . . . and now? It was best known for the romance of its former glory, and so visitors would come to see the scrawlings of prisoners past on the walls. Peek at the former torture chambers. They’d also have picnics in the shadow of the Bloody Tower. And, of course, they’d view the Crown Jewels.

Nellie and Cora had the cabby stop a few blocks away so as not to startle any potential fog men in the vicinity, and slipped out quietly onto the street.

“Okay . . .” said Cora, “I’ll track down the delivery boy outside the Tower walls. You, Little Miss Sneaking into Private Mansions, can you get into the Tower?”

“Don’t see why not.”

“You feel good about this? You feel safe?”

“Safe enough. Besides, I don’t mind a bit of danger. Only wish I wasn’t wearing so many layers . . .” Nellie paused for a moment, thought, then grinned at Cora and tore off her coat. She began next on her dress . . .

“What on earth are you doing?” asked Cora.

“Can’t climb walls in a long skirt.” She was down to her corset and bloomers in no time, and Cora shook her head. “I’ll just hide this lot over here.” Nellie bundled her dress into her coat and tossed both into a dark corner. “And I’m set!”

Cora wasn’t sure if it was the smartest idea to have Nellie running around in her underwear, but if anything, it could be surprising enough to cause whoever it was to lose his focus for a moment. Might even be an advantage.

“Okay,” Cora said with a shake of her head, “let’s do this and maybe one of us will stumble on this guy.”

“Good plan.”

“Well . . . it’s a plan. Not sure if it’s that good. Meet back here.”

“Right.”

She watched the fog as it enveloped the ghost-white figure of Nellie heading off toward the Tower. Then . . . she was alone.

* * *

S
O, SCALING A
wall without her rope? Turned out that was a thing she could do. So long as the stone was rough enough and she didn’t think too hard about what it was she was actually doing or how high up she actually was. As Nellie found herself inside the wall staring out at the many different towers that made up the fortress called the Tower of London, she thought to herself,
“If I’m going to keep doing stuff like this, I’m going to need the proper equipment.”

She’d decided to come at the Tower from the wharf so as to avoid the dry moat. Also because it was the side the Wakefield Tower was on. The fact that she knew where the jewels were held wouldn’t, she thought, be much of a surprise to anyone. The second she’d learned that it was possible for the paying public to view such precious and fabulous accessories, she’d insisted the Magician take her to see them. Not that she’d known the name of the jewels, or remembered with such precision as Cora what they looked like. She’d just remembered being dazzled by the sparkle.

She moved around the intimidating Wakefield Tower to its entrance, keeping her back flat to the wall in the hope that none of the guards would see her. She couldn’t tell if it was because she was so small in such plain sight that made her feel so vulnerable or because she was in her underwear.

It also didn’t help that she was standing in the shadow of the Bloody Tower at the moment. This tower, named for its history—one of murder and imprisonment and lots of other very unpleasant things—loomed over her to her left.

Don’t let me see any ghosts. They are free to walk the tower as they wish, but please, just don’t let me see them.

Nellie was at the entrance to Wakefield Tower and almost stumbled over the fallen guard on the ground before spotting him. She was able to contain her reaction and looked past the crime scene to the open door before her. Okay. So either the man had come and gone, or she was right on time. Whichever it was, Nellie bent down and picked up the guard’s rifle just in case.

She had a very basic understanding of how the thing worked, had shot one once when she’d performed at an estate in the countryside. Not with the Magician. This was before, when a baron of some kind had requested that the cast of the burlesque show give him a private performance at his home. He thought it utterly hilarious to have the girls try their hand at shooting at some targets out back. Nellie was the only one who’d hit her mark, which was dismissed as “beginner’s luck.”

At any rate . . .

She climbed the narrow stairs, rifle awkwardly held in her right hand, and changed her prayer from not wanting to see ghosts to not wanting to be attacked and killed. It made more practical sense.

Nellie arrived in the vaulted room that housed the jewels. She would have been dazzled once more by their sparkle had they not been obscured from view by a figure standing in a long black coat. As quietly as possible, she raised the rifle and then she gathered all her courage.

“Pretty things, aren’t they?” she asked. The figure shifted but didn’t turn around. “I can see how you might let your guard down in seein’ them. I myself get a wee bit distracted by things that sparkle like that.”

There was another shift and she saw the figure drop something into its pocket. “Now, don’t you be stealin’ the Crown Jewels. That’s just not right.” The figure finally turned. In the dark, it was hard to see the face, but she saw a thick beard and a strange leather cup contraption over the nose and mouth, complete with goggles over the eyes. “I didn’t arrive unprepared, as you can see,” she said, cocking the rifle.

But I did arrive in my undergarments.

She’d run out of things to say, and she was concerned about exactly how this confrontation would end. The figure took a step toward her. “I’m not afraid of firing this thing. I think you know that.”
By which I mean, I’m terrified of firing this thing, and I hope you don’t know that.

Evidently the man did know that.

He charged her. Just barreled right for her, and before she had a moment to think, he’d pushed her hard onto the ground. The rifle went off after he’d passed, after he was down the steps, and the bullet careened around the stone room. Nellie covered her head with her hands to protect herself.

When the room fell silent, she was up on her feet, dashing out into the yard after the running figure, which was now far away. There was no way she was going to be able to catch up, not with him having such a good head start, and she slowed just in time to observe the attack from above.

It came as a black blur wearing a mask that glinted in the light. The blur landed directly on top of the figure with a scream, an otherworldly-sounding thing that made Nellie’s blood run cold. The two figures wrestled for a moment, and then, suddenly, they were hidden behind orange smoke, or (it felt more appropriate) fog. Nellie watched as the man rose and continued running on his original trajectory until he was out of sight, leaving the masked one lying still on the ground.

With no way to catch up, Nellie waited for the orange fog to dissipate and then approached the masked figure carefully. It didn’t move, and Nellie wasn’t sure what to do. Just as she’d decided she would kneel down and look behind the mask, there was a coughing sound. The figure raised a hand and pulled off the mask quickly. Michiko. Considering this was the third night in a row of chance encounters, Nellie thought,
“Of course.”

They made eye contact, and then Nellie crouched and helped her to sit. She continued to cough for a good five minutes, finally spitting out orange goop.

“What . . . ?” asked Michiko finally, and Nellie shook her head.

“No idea. Come, let’s get out of here before the guards find us and accuse us of stealin’ the Crown Jewels.”

Michiko rose slowly and took a few careful steps. She nodded, and the two of them ran back to the wall and climbed up and over. Michiko had, of course, the most amazing technique for doing so, and made it look almost effortless. And it was nice for Nellie to have someone to help her get to the top before they jumped down together.

“Follow me,” said Nellie as they ran along the wharf and out onto the street. Michiko nodded.

They ran in silence along the opposite side of the Tower from where she and Cora had left the cab, and came to a screeching halt, arriving at the figure that was lying on the ground before them.

Nellie couldn’t be certain, but the way the boy was dressed and the fact that he was near the Tower in the first place suggested to her that this was the same delivery boy Cora had been after. He hadn’t been felled by the orange fog, though. He’d had his throat cut.

Her gut clenched.

Where was Cora?

She whipped around to Michiko. “We have to find Cora.” Michiko nodded and immediately was running up the street. Nellie took the opposite direction running back toward where she and Cora had parted ways earlier. She didn’t care about stealth. She didn’t feel clever or tough. All she wanted was to make sure Cora was okay.

“Cora!” she called out loudly.
Damn it.
“Cora!”

* * *

H
OW LONG HAD
she been wandering? Looking? No delivery boy. And certainly no man waiting for a package. She should probably go back to their meeting spot. See if Nellie was back yet.

She heard a sound in the distance, like someone was calling for her. Oh, god, something was wrong. Cora turned down an alley toward her name.

There were two figures in the dark some distance before her.

Nellie?

No.

A struggle.

It was him. It had to be him.

“Stop!” She pulled her pistol from her purse. The figures didn’t seem to hear her. “I said stop! You think I won’t shoot this? I will. And I’ve got terrific aim.”

One of the figures stopped and stared at her. Just stared at her. The other figure, a girl, ran away, but the first figure didn’t seem to notice. It just stared. Cora stared back.

“Is it you?” she asked.

The figure took a few steps closer.

“Why are you doing this? Why are you hurting them?”

The figure stopped walking.

Her hand was shaking, the pistol in it shaking, too. The figure turned and ran the other way.

The shadows did their job. And he disappeared.

* * *

“
N
ELLIE!”
C
ORA EMERGED
from the shadows of a narrow alley. Her eyes were wide and she looked panic-stricken. Well, as much as Cora could look panic-stricken. “Are you okay?” She approached Nellie and grabbed her by the shoulders.

“Am I okay? Are
you
okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine. What’s wrong?”

Nellie was suddenly aware of how fast her heart was beating, how shallow her breath had become. Adrenaline had kept her going, but now, seeing Cora in one piece, she felt like she might faint.

“Come, sit down.” Nellie let Cora help her to a bench and felt a great sense of relief at no longer having to support her body weight. “What happened? Did you see him? What about the diamond?”

“I saw him. He overpowered me and stole the diamond. Then Michiko, in that way of hers, appeared out of nowhere and fought him. But he had this strange orange fog substance and it made Michiko pass out, and he ran off. And then we saw the delivery boy, and he was dead. And . . . then I thought that maybe you . . .”

“I’m okay,” said Cora, sitting next to her. “The boy’s dead?”

“Yeah.”

“We should take him to Officer Murphy.”

Even in her current state, the name gave Nellie butterflies. “Why?”

“Because we should take him to the police. And, of all of them, Murphy’s the most tolerable.”

“Okay.” Another evening of hauling a dead body. Would it never end? Why was this happening to them? What did it mean? “Where were you? You scared us half to death.”

“You were right, Nellie, your man and mine. They’re the same person. I was searching for the delivery boy, and I saw him, the man, just now, just before coming to find you. He was attacking another flower girl. I yelled at him to stop. I held out my pistol. He stopped and just stared at me. It was . . . unnerving. Then . . . he ran away.”

“Is the girl okay?”
Because I really can’t deal with another dead body tonight.

“She’s fine. She ran away the second I distracted him.”

Nellie nodded. She was flooded with relief, and also physically exhausted. It’d been a full day.

“What is he doing exactly? What does it all mean?” she asked quietly.

“I have no idea,” replied Cora.

From the darkness, Michiko emerged, her mask seeming to float toward them of its own accord. She removed it and assessed the situation. “You’re alive.” In that very straightforward Michiko way, the truth of the situation was confirmed. Cora smiled.

“That I am.”

“Good.” Michiko thought for a moment. “Boy dead. Fog escape.”

“Fog?”

“Man who make Michiko . . . un . . . conshus. Fog man.”

“It was the same man?” asked Cora slowly. “Same man from the night of the gala?”

“Yes. Beard. Hat. Yes.”

Cora looked at Nellie.

“So that’s it then,” said Nellie. “That proves it. The man who has somethin’ to do with Mr. Carter, who ordered your device, who’s attacking them flower girls. He’s also the same man who decapitated Dr. Welland.”

“Not a coincidence,” Cora said softly.

“No.”

They rested for a moment longer, each girl lost in her own thoughts. And then it was time to get to work. Nellie put her clothes back on and together they brought the delivery boy to Officer Murphy’s station. Though the rest of the officers were none too thrilled to have to deal with some small East End dead kid, Officer Murphy took charge and told them he’d personally make sure the boy found his way to the morgue.

“There’s a witness this time,” said Cora.