The Mark of the Golden Dragon (22 page)

Hmmm ... Good
...a washbasin, a pitcher of clean water ... chamber pot ... soap...

I get down to it—strip off burglar gear, do necessaries, wash face and parts, run soapy finger over my teeth, work up some froth and spit into basin.

I notice a bottle with a fancy curlicued label on it—Fariña Eau de Cologne—so I uncork it to give it a bit of a sniff. It smells wondrous good—very much like lemons and limes—so I spread some about the Faber frame ... Some here, and some ... there.

Outside, I hear Richard speaking to someone, probably his orderly.

Then I slide back into my sailor togs, thrust cap back on head, empty basin into chamber pot, and go back out. Breakfast does sound good, especially in the company of my very handsome and gallant Lord Richard Allen, who I see has now donned a red dressing gown.

He laughs when he sees me emerge, dressed as a
Dolphin's
ship's boy.

"Oh, Princess, you are such a delight!" he says, coming to me and putting his hands upon my shoulders. He looks me over, continuing to chuckle. "However, when my man brings up our breakfast, if you could just duck behind that dressing screen there?"

"Oh?"

"Yes, dear, it would not do my reputation any good should it be found out that I had entertained a sailor
boy
overnight in my digs, now would it?"

"Why, Richard, I am surprised that the black sheep of the Allen family would care about what anyone thought," I tease, my feet doing a little sailor boy jig. "Besides, from what I hear from your men, your reputation as a ... swordsman ... is quite secure, you dog."

"And where did you hear that?"

"From your men, last night—Patton and Jiggs," I simper. "How else could I find out where you lived?"

"Damned loose-lipped scoundrels! Suppose—"

"Now, Richard," I purr. "Do not be too hard on your lads. After all, you
do
know that I have my ways."

He chuckles at that. "Oh, yes, you do, Princess, you certainly do."

He puts on a quizzical look and sniffs at the air, nods, and then wraps his arm around my waist, putting his face to my neck and inhaling even more deeply. "And I do believe my cologne smells better on you than on me."

"I would not be so sure of that, Lord Richard," I purr.

There is a knock on an outside door and I retreat behind the screen. Presently, I hear the sound of silverware being placed on a table and I figure I'll add to Richard's ... standing ... in the male community.

I take out my burglar pants and flip them across the top edge of the screen, figuring they'll look like any pair of black stockings, if one does not look too close, and then I start to sing, in a high, very feminine voice.

Oh, Richard is my darling,
My darling, my darling,
Yes, Richard is my darling,
My bold Gren-a-dier!

That
oughta take care of milord Allen's precious reputation, I'll own.

Presently, my host calls me back out.

"That was choice, Princess, well done," he says. There is a table set, and he pulls out a chair for me and waves me to it.

"Think nothing of it, Lord Dick," says I, sitting down and surveying the spread—eggs, bacon, toast, butter, marmalade, kippers, and a pot of hot coffee. "Let's get down to it."

As we eat, I tell him the story of what has befallen me and mine since last he saw me at my trial in the Old Bailey...

"
...and thank you so much for standing up for me at that awful trial, when I was in such distress.
"

"
I don't think you really needed any help after all, seeing that Princess Prettytail has that precious bottom warming the seat of my unworthy chair right now.
"

"
Oh, no, Richard, if you and Captain Hudson had not used your influence, I am sure I would have been hanged.
"

"
Oh, well, thanks accepted. Go on...
"

...and over to Bombay and down the Straits of Malacca to Australia ... the
Lorelei Lee
and the mutiny on the
Cerberus...
and Cheng Shih and the
Divine Wind
and Chopstick Charlie and the treasure of the Orient and ... and ... and ... until I finally washed back up on Britannia's shore ... only to hear of Jaimy Fletcher's new profession.

"Quite a story, Princess," he says, mulling it all over. "Here, have some more coffee, sweet one, and tell me about Mr. Fletcher."

I accept another cup and proceed to recount what Dr. Sebastian had told me.

"Hmmm," he says, after I finish. "I had heard of the Black Highwayman and of Bliffil's demise, but I had no idea it was at the hands of the calm, orderly, and totally honorable Lieutenant James Fletcher whom I had met in America and who most impressed me at the time."

"Yes, well, that was Jaimy then. I don't know what he has become now. I ... I ... am worried that he might have gone ... mad."

"Huh! Well, if anyone is going to drive a man over the brink, it is you, Jacky."

I nod.

"'Tis true."
I am so very hard on my friends!
"The poor lad has been through so much. It is a wonder he has any sanity left at all," I say, all my levity gone. "Do you think he has really lost his mind?"

"Over your death? Possibly. Over the Bliffil thing? I, myself, have been trying to kill that slippery bastard Flashby for at least three years now. Does that make me a lunatic? I don't think so."

I reach over and put my hand on his. "Dear Richard, you do give me such comfort."

He places his other hand on mine. "So what is to be done, Princess?"

I consider the question and say, "Well, the way I see it, we use the promise of Chopstick Charlie's antiquities for the British Museum to get both me and Jaimy off the hook. There's a lot of treasure there, Richard, and money generally talks."

"Hmmm ... Well, it might be possible for you. But Mr. Fletcher..." He shakes his head. "Killing a government agent—that will be somewhat difficult."

"I have Mr. Higgins and Dr. Sebastian working on it from a political angle."

"Good. I am but a simple soldier and I will leave the politics to the politicos. But as for that treasure ... hmmm ... I have some influence, and some influential friends, yes ... we shall see."

He leans back and smiles, then says, "I believe it would be good for you to get out into Society. Starting tonight. You shall dine with me at a fine coffeehouse I know of. All the
ton
go there, and we might find it to our advantage."

I wipe the rather greasy Faber mouth with my napkin and put it down on my now empty and quite clean plate, then stand.

"Thank you, Richard, and now I must return to my ship. There is much to be done."

He stands also and puts his arms around me, and I put my head on his chest ... But then I push away. I take a breath and say, "Richard, I am so very, very fond of you and I would ... you know ... go with you, without a moment's thought, without a moment's regret ... but I've got to find out about Jaimy Fletcher before I ... we ... think about things like that."

"I understand, Princess," he says planting a kiss upon my head—my shaved head does seem to be a favored point of contact twixt me and my lads. "It is why we all love you so. I shall pick you up at six."

"Thank you, Richard. I count the hours till tonight."

To avoid trouble, I go out the way I came in. I blow him a kiss from the window, then I am out and down, then back into the city.

James Fletcher, Brigand
On Blackheath Moor

Dearest Jacky,

I write to you in the firm conviction that I will soon be joining you, wherever you are. If it be heaven, fine, and if it be the simple oblivion of the void, also fine. At least my raging mind will be calmed, my demons silenced. Whether my end is accomplished by a bullet or a noose or by my own hand, it does not matter.

My fear that I was losing my mind is now a certainty. On occasion I have moments of real clarity—like when I venture into the city to glean information on the whereabouts of Flashby—but now and then I black out for periods of time and cannot remember what I did during those times. Sometimes I come back to myself on the heath with gold and purses in my hand and no recollection of how they got there.

One dark night, I made the mistake of going to my family's home on Brattle Street, perhaps, in my weakness of mind, to seek some sort of solace, but found none there. Although it was good to see the old place again, and my father, too, my mother's very evident joy in hearing of your demise turned my stomach. I could not stand it and left in disgust. I shall not go there again.

The late nights are the hardest—those long hours when I writhe and toss in agony of mind. Only Bess, sweet Bess, can soothe me and finally make me fall into deep, if troubled, sleep.

I wish there was an end to this and I was with you.

Jaimy

"
Shankies! You sat down with Shanky Boys? Eeewww!
" Joannie is beside herself—old animosities do die hard. She points her left forefinger at me and rubs it hard with her other forefinger.

"
Shame!
"

"Calm yourself, Sister mine," I say. "Things have changed."

I'm back in my cabin on the
Nancy B.,
shedding my sailor boy gear and preparing for the evening.
What to wear? Let us see. The blue...? The white?

"
Changed?
A dirty, filthy Shanky is a dirty, filthy Shanky and—"

"Toby Oyster is the boss of the Shanky Boys now."

"What?" she asks, incredulous. "
My
Toby?"

"Indeed.
Your
Toby. He came back from the Navy and he seems to be doing a good job. His Shankies now control all the smaller gangs in Cheapside, and a general peace exists among them, which is good, as I see it."

"Coo ... Toby Oyster, himself, back on our old turf. Imagine that."

I knew that Toby's real name was Tobias Cloister—and
cloister
being a place where they kept monks and nuns to do their prayin' and stuff and therefore not a good street name—so he becomes "Toby Oyster." Cloister-Oyster..."If it rhymes, it's fine in Cockney Times," the sayin' goes, and so it went, and so he became. It seemed to fit him.

"Yes. And you'll be going over there later to get more of these." I open my palm and show her the wooden disk with the crude "S" writ upon it that Toby had given me.

"What is it?" she asks.

"Safe passage through Shanky Turf is what it is, and we'll need more of 'em. At least five. And you will get 'em. Here, take this one with you, or else you might have trouble."

"When?"

"Later. When Higgins gets back."

If Higgins gets back.

"Coo ... Can I wear my black rig?"

"Yes, but be careful. And one more thing: Do
not
tell Toby you've seen Polly Von recently. It's for his own good."

She yelps in joy as she dives for her seabag and hauls out the costume. In no time at all, she is out of white sailor gear and into burglar's black.

"Ta da!" she exults, ready to head off.

I, of course, could have gone off myself to collect those valuable tokens, but I knew I had to give her a measure of freedom, else she would have taken it for herself. She is too close to her old grounds and I know the pull of the street is strong. Plus, she has old friends out there.

Speaking of liberty, I'd better issue some, else there will be mutiny.

"Go get John Thomas and Smasher McGee," I order after she is dressed.

She darts out the door, and soon my two stalwart sailors come in, hats in hand.

I have two stacks of coin ready for them.

"Here lads, go off and have a few pints. But be back by six. You both know what we are guarding here."

In an instant the coins are scooped up and gone, as are Thomas and McGee. I sigh in hopes of seeing them back in time.
Sailors ... I swear...

As the two charge off the ship, we hear a coach approach and Joannie pokes her head out the door to see who comes.

"Higgins! Well met! Come rest yourself. Joannie, get Ravi and have him bring a glass of wine for our Mr. Higgins."

Higgins sits himself down and soon Ravi comes in with a tray bearing two glasses and a carafe of red wine. He pours and says, "Mr. Lee making the lunch right now. Be right up."

"Thank you, Ravi," I say. "Now, Higgins, what have you to report?"