Red Dog Conspiracy, Act 1

The Jacq of Spades-8

“Full proof it was, and most of us couldn’t drink more than a swallow. It burned so! But Jacqui drank half a bottle straight down, before the police came and we had to run. She didn’t so much as stumble the rest of the night, and she couldn’t have been more than nine!”

I was thirsty. I loved the warmth in my chest as I drank. I felt more alive.

Tony turned to me, mouth open, and I grinned at him. “I liked the taste. In any case, Josie exaggerates. I was twelve, and already large for my age.”

I could hardly forget the night Air died.

Tony took my hand. “I have worried that she had some ailment or sorrow to cause her to drink so.”

I felt bitter; he didn’t understand anything. Trying not to snort in amusement, I put my hand on his and smiled.

Joe did not smile. “How admirable. And how happy you look. We must take a stroll among the roses. It’s been so unseasonably warm that some are still in bloom. The snow dusted on them looks quite charming.”

“Oh, yes!” Josie said. “Grampa, will you stroll with us?”

“Of course.”

I took Tony’s arm as we strolled in the small garden, bounded by a wall of brown stone topped with wrought iron. The sky was overcast and no snow fell; whatever snow might have been on the roses had melted. The roses were pretty, if wilted from the chill.

Strolling in the Kerr’s garden seemed fine enough, but I couldn’t avoid Joe’s comment.

Was I happy?

I had no reason not to be. My husband was not harsh, or brutal, or even unkind. As far as I could tell — not that I cared one way or the other — he was even faithful. I had every comfort imaginable and time for diversion of my choosing, such as the people I helped as an investigator.

Most of the cases were petty: navigating the maze of bureaucracy at Market Center, following a man suspected of infidelity. Helping those in the Pot and the slums around it helped me feel less disloyal for leaving them to shiver in the cold while I slept in luxury.

But every move I made, even to drink a glass of wine, shouted my strangeness in this world. And to be so near to Joe again was utterly intoxicating.

He and Josie chatted arm in arm, and I felt a sharp twinge of jealousy, yearning to feel Joe’s touch on me again. I recalled the last time we kissed, the way he smelled, the promises he made, the way he touched my body …

We completed our circuit and approached the back stair. I stumbled on the rough walkway, but Tony caught me.

“Your face is flushed,” Joe said. “Are you warm enough?”

I felt embarrassed. “Quite.”

“Perhaps we should go inside,” Tony said.

Mr. Kerr said, “Would you like to visit my library?”

Books lined the walls to the ceiling, with a movable ladder to fetch the upper ones. The furniture was leather, or mahogany with brass handles on the drawers. The pieces looked worn, as did the reddish-brown carpeting. A well-worn mahogany and ivory-colored chess set stood on a small table in the corner, along with two chairs.

Mr. Kerr had come into some money, but long ago.

While Mr. Kerr showed off his books, Josie and I sat in the window seat, and she showed me her drawings, which she kept in a portfolio. “This portrait of your father is exceptional.”

Josie smiled. “Thank you.”

“Is your father well?”

Josie shrugged. “I assume he’s drunk as usual.”

Ely Kerr suffered serious bouts of melancholy. They say this worsened after his lover Josephine died giving birth to their twins.

A dim alley, the smell of alcohol, sitting next to a weeping blond man. “He hates me, Jacqui. My daddy hates me.”

I felt surprised at the memory. How old was I? “Josie, may I ask a personal question?”

“Why, Jacqui, you may always ask, whatever you wish.”

I glanced around and lowered my voice. “You are young and beautiful, and your grandfather is well. Why are you unmarried? Could he not arrange something to your liking?”

Josie shook her head. “He has forbidden me to marry. I am being trained to take over his affairs, should he fall ill or pass on.” She gazed out of the window. “It’s of no consequence; I’m too busy with my own affairs as it is. Another man’s household would just get in the way.” She giggled. “A fine spinster I sound.”

Why her? Joe could take over Mr. Kerr’s business. “You’re the prettiest spinster I’ve ever seen. Are you happy?”

She put her hands in her lap. “Completely. I have useful work, my family around me, and a bright future. I couldn’t be happier!”

Moved by her joy, I grabbed her hands and kissed them, as I did when we were young. “I’m so grateful. I’ve worried about you. It’s good to see you happy and well.”

She smiled, blushing, and pulled her hands gently away, which made me feel she put a distance between us. “It’s gratifying to hear you say so. I’m glad you never forgot me. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.” I would have spoken of how lonely the years had been, the hurt of hearing of her but never from her. But those words no longer seemed appropriate.

Joe, who sat across the room with his leg up on the arm of the overstuffed chair smoking a cigar, rose. “Would you like to see the rest of the house?”

So we toured the house, which was much like what we had seen already. And soon we were on our way outside.

We made our goodbyes and got in our carriage. As the carriage pulled away, I noticed a man across the street wearing brown. He moved out of view before I saw his face. Had he been watching us?

I leaned back and closed my eyes, feeling light-headed and weary, glad to be going home.

The visit seemed different than I thought. Joe was charming, but distant; he hadn’t once smiled during our entire visit. Josie was a talented woman with her own life. And Mr. Kerr was a mystery. The noise of the horses and carriage cut the melancholy ache I felt.

“Did you enjoy your afternoon?”

I felt startled. “What? Oh, yes, it was lovely. It was good to see my friends after so many years. And their grandfather is an excellent host.”

“Yes, he was. I’m surprised at the poor way he’s spoken of. I don’t understand it.” Tony stared out of the window.

Bitterness rose within me. “I understand very well. People hate those who dare to rise from their ‘place’ and show they’re as good as those born to wealth and power. Every slight shown to me the last six years has proved that well.”

“Jacqui …” Tony said, as if saddened by my tone. “There is a long history of hate for the Kerr family. That I do understand.”

People blamed the Kerrs for allowing the violence which destroyed much of the city, especially the areas which now formed the Pot, which they say used to be beautiful. The Kerr name became a byword, a proverb of what to avoid.

Yet his grandchildren attended a Grand Ball. Even after being sponsored into the quadrant by the Harts, for Mr. Kerr to climb from the slums to his current place in Bridges society was a monumental achievement. I wondered how he did it.

“Pity they petitioned Hart rather than Spadros,” Tony said. “It would be grand if they lived closer.”

To see Joe every day, to run into him at the shops?

It would be torture.

The Attack

When we returned to Spadros Manor, several of Tony’s men waited on the steps, porch, and walkway. They straightened, focusing on us when we arrived. After we alighted from the carriage, Sawbuck spoke to Tony privately.

I did see some of Molly Spadros in Sawbuck, perhaps around the eyes.

Tony turned to me. “I’ll tend to this and meet you inside, in perhaps an hour.”

So I went to my study, read my mail — well wishes for the holiday — and after, I practiced my piano.

Roy and Molly Spadros gave us the grand piano on our wedding day. I was not good at playing, nor did I particularly like to. But apparently it would be a slight on the Family honor for Mrs. Jacqueline Spadros to be asked to perform yet unable. No one had ever asked me to play, so I wasn’t sure how this all mattered so. But I practiced anyway. I did seem to be making progress, considering five years before I had never seen a piano.

While I played, I considered how my relationship with Tony had changed these past ten years.

Once Roy Spadros moved my father from the Pot to the slums, my life changed forever. I didn’t go anywhere. But no matter how much I hid, a different set of men grabbed me at random times, dragging me to Spadros Manor as I screamed in terror.

Different scullery maids stripped, bathed, and dressed me each time. Then they locked me in a room with Tony as I wept in humiliation or raged at having to endure this strange, quiet boy. There we sat until time for whatever torment, lesson, or amusement Roy planned for us.

Over the years, we went (on my part) from sullen resignation to our state of marriage.

I was not unhappy. I just … existed. I realized I was no longer sullen: I had simply become resigned.

The thought made me sad.

Tea-time came and went. After tea, I dozed for a while on the sofa in my study, waking in darkness, disoriented and weary. The light from the street-lamp created a golden stripe on the far wall. Where was Tony?

I lit the lamp on the table and picked up the basket of items Amelia found in my pocket after the Grand Ball. An envelope from Jonathan with three pressed daffodils inside: “the sun shines when I am with you.” That made me smile.

A few calling cards, with invitations to visit written on the back. Then a blank card. I turned it over: a stamp of a red dog, the same dog as on the wall outside David’s home.

For heavens’ sakes. That man of Tony’s was quick, to have obtained a card before we even left the Ball. Perhaps one of the Associates thought to keep a card to show us. I felt pleased Tony had such intelligent men on his staff.

I put Jonathan’s flowers on my desk and the stamped card in my drawer, meaning to give it to Tony when he got home.

A knock on the door. “Time to dress for dinner, mum.”

Upstairs, Amelia helped me into my red crushed taffeta dress, which Tony liked very much but I had not worn for a while.

We did this every night, even though we had no guests. Roy and Molly insisted on it for so many years it became a habit. They reasoned if we acted as if we had guests, when they did arrive our actions would appear natural from constant use.

I was putting on my jewels when the front door closed downstairs. Where could they have been?

Voices argued as Amelia laced my dinner shoes. I stood and examined myself one last time, then went into the hall.

“I must insist, sir,” Pearson said. “I can have the doctor summoned at once.”

The doctor? I crossed to the staircase.

Tony was being supported by two of his men. Their clothing was dirty, disheveled, and spattered with blood. Sawbuck entered last, facing outside, holstering his revolver once he shut the door.

I descended the stairs. “Whatever has happened?” I grasped Tony’s hand, which felt clammy. “Help him to a chair, and bring an ottoman for his feet.” His men did so. “Amelia, bring a basin of water and a cloth. Pearson, summon the doctor.”