Red Dog Conspiracy, Act 1

The Jacq of Spades-4

“… smoking again … shocking behavior … not sure why the Family puts up with it … what do you expect from a Pot rag …?”

I opened the door; a few old biddies stood along the wall. One hushed the other, but I strolled to the closest table as if I heard nothing.

A handsome, brooding man sang, while the orchestra played a slow song of young love thwarted.

I listened to the man sing, desperately trying to hold the pain back. A waiter passed with a drink tray, and I took a glass, not caring what it held.

The music died away, and there was applause.

“I’m sorry, Jacqui.” That beloved voice behind me held true sorrow, but I dared not turn, not even for my dearest friend.

Jonathan Diamond walked around to face me, and bent to gaze at my down-turned face. “What’s this?”

I brushed at my eyes. “Nothing.”

He took my left hand and kissed it. “You knew this would happen sooner or later. I’m sorry it was tonight.” He took a step back, the ever-present small brown velvet bag of vials at his left hip clinking. “You look absolutely beautiful.”

Jonathan Courtenay Diamond was a tall, handsome man of twenty and six. The youngest of the Diamond sons, Jon had an easy air and fine manners, so unlike his father. He wore a forest green tuxedo and a black cravat pinned with his Family’s symbol. His normally tight-coiled hair he wore neatly pressed, parted just right of center. “You look quite dashing, Jon.”

He beamed at me, and I do believe he blushed. “Thank you!”

For some reason, his blush made me feel better. I raised my glass to him and drained it. “I wish I could get drunk and forget everything, like everyone else seems to.”

Jonathan chuckled. “It’s not as fun as it sounds, sweet girl, especially the next morning.”

His tone of voice made me smile, just like always.

“I wish I could chat, dearest. But I must make the rounds.” He winked. “Duty calls.”

I set the empty glass on the table and returned to my seat. Perhaps I could survive this night after all.

After some time, Joseph and Josephine Kerr arrived at our table. We rose to greet them. Joe wore a dark burgundy tuxedo, while Josie wore a burgundy gown trimmed in white. They took dressing alike as a challenge; when we were young, they would do (or steal) anything to match.

Josephine’s blond curls cascaded down one side of her perfect face beneath a rose-colored half-veil. I took her hand. “The goddess approaches! Radiant, as always.”

She blushed. “You look lovely, too, Mrs. Spadros,” emphasizing my title, “And I would love to get the name of your dressmaker!”

“I will have my maid Amelia send you a card.”

“I would be delighted!” Josephine clapped her white gloved hands. I thought this played the ingenue a bit too far, considering she was a year older than I.

Joe took my hand and kissed it, his eyes meeting mine. “Charmed to see you again.”

Oh, my … he was stunning.

“I didn’t know you were acquainted,” Tony said.

I smiled at him. “Childhood friends.”

Tony paused, puzzlement on his face. “Ah, yes.”

Evidently he had forgotten my past. No one else seemed to.

Tony shook Joe’s hand. “Then you’re most welcome here.”

The twins beamed at him. Josephine had a gorgeous smile, but Joe’s lit the room. His smile held happiness and freedom, life and contentment, a smile usually only seen in small children.

No one who smiled like that could ever be false.

“It’s so grand to be welcomed,” Josephine said. “We adore these parties, don’t we, Joe?”

Joe gazed fondly at his sister. “We do.” He turned to Tony. “We meet such fascinating people.”

Tony seemed at a loss for words. I took Tony’s arm, heart pounding, and spoke to Joe, trying to keep my tone light. “Is your grandfather well?”

Joe focused on Tony, yet spoke loud enough so anyone could hear. “He’s 87 now. Putters around in his garden, his library. Josie takes care of him these days.”

Tony put his arm around me. “The old have earned relaxing afternoons. I suppose we’ll see those if we live long enough.”

The rest of the table laughed. The twins excused themselves, promising to return once their “duties” were through.

“They seem a pleasant pair,” Tony said.

One of his newer Associates came to the table. Reeking of alcohol, he laughed in derision, his words slurring. “A couple of god-damned Pot rags, daring to show their faces around decent folk. Shameful.”

Tony frowned. “That will be quite enough.”

All eyes were on me, except for Major Blackwood. “Well, if they’re Pot rags, they’re certainly delightful ones.”

I laughed at the Major’s oblivious cheek. Everyone followed.

Tony turned to me. “I will have that man gone.”

I shrugged. “I find his honesty refreshing.”

Tony frowned and shook his head. “I won’t have such a man in my service. He insults you, or your friends, he insults me. He insults the Family that raised him up.”

Tony turned to his right-hand man, an imposing fellow they called Sawbuck, and spoke in his ear. Sawbuck stood, whispered to a couple others, then gestured to the new man. They all left.

This new man would be found floating in the river. He probably wouldn’t even learn why. Such was life in the Business: fast to rise, just as fast to fall.

Every time Tony did something like this, though, I found it disturbing. “Why should a man die for having an opinion?”

“My men must be devoted to this Family.” Tony’s voice was pitched to carry. “All of this Family. If he can’t be loyal there are many others who will.”

It seemed no one wanted to speak first after that.

After the next song completed and the loudspeaker died away, I said, “I could use some air.”

We moved down a red-carpeted hall to the Spadros train platform. Two of his men, watching everyone and everything but us, followed at a distance. This train entry allowed us private entry to the opera, government areas, and so on.

Mighty columns held the level above us, with large copper pipes running overhead. We sat at a table in the black and white tiled area. Tony had my cigarettes with him, and he gave me a light. “I apologize for my man’s conduct.”

I waved it away. “I told you, it was nothing.”

“I want nothing more than for you to be happy.”

This surprised me. “That is very kind of you.”

The buzz of the other tables echoed in the platform, the music and loudspeaker faint in the distance.

“I hope we can someday live without violence.” Tony’s voice was tense, as if he were in pain. “My greatest aspiration is to leave our children a peaceful future and a business worthy of respect.”

I had never heard such words from him before.

“If I show mercy it’s seen as weakness, by both my father and my men. But with each act of cruelty and retribution, I fear I’m signing my death warrant.”

I put my hand on his. Talk of death always brought my situation — or rather, my probable situation — to mind. I hoped a paying case presented itself soon.

The danger to Tony seemed ever-present. Most men in the Business met a violent end. Should Tony die, his estate would revert to his father, Roy Spadros, who would have no further use for me. I would be without protection. It was part of what drove me to go out on a rainy New Year’s Eve to secretly meet a client.

I took a deep breath and let it out. I had to prepare for when the inevitable occurred. If I became an independent woman of means, I could hire bodyguards until I left the city. I had saved a small amount from my household allowance plus my business over the past few years. But not enough to hire guards or even buy a zeppelin ticket, should the worst come to pass.

I hoped it never would. While I didn’t love Tony, except perhaps in a platonic manner, I wished no harm upon him.

Tony stood. “Enough of this. You’re too beautiful for me to spoil the evening with melancholy. Want to return to the party?”

I put out my cigarette. “I would love to.”

Our table had been abandoned. Major Blackwood sat at another table, laughing with a different set of ladies. Tony’s men sat at various other tables with their dance partners.

We sat at the end of our original table, which held a few Clubb retainers at the other end. The waiter came round, and we ordered more drinks.

“I fear this will be the last drink for me,” Tony said.

“We have a carriage to take us home.”

“Yes, but I would like to be taken home alive.”

I chuckled, patting his hand. He smiled, face flushed, and pulled my chair closer as we watched the dancers. He put his arm around me and began kissing my ear.

I found this quite intriguing.

We had been back about ten minutes when the announcer said: “MASTER JACK ROLAND DIAMOND THE THIRD”

The room went silent. I turned to face the staircase, and my heart was pounding with fear, my mouth dry.

Black Jack.

The man in my nightmares since that terrible evening ten years ago descended the stairs, head shaven, dressed in white. His glare cut across the room to settle on me, and my blood froze at the malevolence in his eyes.

My stomach knotted; my hands began to shake.

Jack Diamond was Jonathan Diamond’s identical twin, but all similarity stopped at skin level. Where Jonathan was kind, Jack spoke harshly. Jonathan was warm-hearted; Jack, bitter and grasping. Jonathan wore whatever fashion dictated. Jack only wore white, even to the soles of his shoes, no matter what the event or the weather.

Black Jack was not named so for his black hair and eyes. Nor for his skin, which, like all in the Diamond family, was such a dark brown as to be close to black. He earned this name from childhood for his rages, his cruelty, his mysterious disappearances and the terrible rumors which followed them: girls murdered, men tortured, a head found on a pier.

All sort of evil was attributed to Black Jack Diamond: whether truth or fiction, few knew. All I know is he promised if he ever laid hands on me, it would be my last painful day.

And I believed him.

“I feared he would be here tonight,” Jonathan Diamond said.

Tony stood, shaking hands with a smile. “Jon! How are you?”

“Well enough, but the weather has inflamed my joints. I carry this these days.” Jonathan brandished a black walking stick topped with silver.

How had I not seen his cane before this?

“My poor benighted brother fears he is forgotten,” Jonathan said, compassion in his voice, “so he makes his appearance. I sincerely hope he doesn’t cause you alarm.”

Tony pulled a chair away from the table. “Please join us.” So Jonathan sat.

A waiter came up. “Some wine, sir?”

Jonathan said, “Tea and milk, if you please.” Jon never drank alcohol, and I often wondered why.

By this time, Jack Diamond had descended the stairs and disappeared into the crowd.

I danced several turns with Tony (the first few, rather unsteady on his part) and a few with Lance Clubb while Tony and Jonathan sat talking.

Though Lance was a year older than I, he seemed younger somehow. Like most this season, he wore a dark brown tuxedo with brass buttons.

Lance Clubb appeared intrigued at my conversations with Jonathan. During the second set, he asked if he might one day be introduced to Jonathan’s younger sister, Gardena …

… who was both beautiful and unmarried.

After Lance Clubb escorted me to my chair and moved on, I whispered to Tony, “Mystery solved.”