I pushed open the door and ran to the side of the bed. I tugged at the ribbons and threw the bonnet to the rug.
‘How is he?’
Peggy looked up. ‘Better, much better, I think. His skin’s cool to the touch now. Feel.’ She shifted to let me sit on the edge of the mattress. I rested my hand against Lucca’s face. He was calm and still and the sheets beneath him weren’t sodden with fever. The circle of lamplight hugged the three of us close.
‘Has he woken yet?’
She shook her head. ‘It’s no bad thing. I’ve been sitting with him ever since you took off.’ She paused and I felt her eyes on me.
‘You going to tell me where you’ve been or is that another one of your secrets, Kit?’
I thought about Michael McCarthy’s body slumped against the boarded wall and the sound of a woman weeping. When I realised he was dead I didn’t know how I felt. Part of me was glad on account of what he’d done, I’ll admit it. But another part of me felt a terrible pity for him. I’d taken a thin blanket from the bed and draped it over him to hide the mess. I’d wiped his face and propped him against the wall. Then I’d opened the door.
I’ll never forgot the look on Brigid Strong’s face when I led her into that room.
Family, Katharine, it is always a simple matter of family. Remember that.
Only it turns out it wasn’t a simple matter after all. In my experience that was the very last thing I’d say about family. I thought about McCarthy grieving for his girl and watching my brother dabbing it up as a frock in The Eagle – making eyes at the barman, flashing his coin.
That didn’t sound like someone who was ashamed of himself, did it? But it sounded like Joey Peck. There was a time when my brother was everything to me. But that was long past. My family was gathered in this room. I stroked Lucca’s face, pushed his dark hair away from his eyes and bent to kiss his forehead.
I sat back and took Peggy’s hand.
‘I … I did something I should have done a long time ago. I went to see Edie’s Strong’s mother.’
‘Brigid?’ Peggy stared at me. ‘You chose a funny time to pay your respects – what with Lucca and …’ She shook her head. ‘It’s not … I mean, with everything like it is here why would you go to her?’
I squeezed her hand tight. ‘I had to. It was important. There were things that … needed to be said. Besides, I knew by then Lucca would come through. I was sure of it. I wouldn’t have left him with you otherwise.’
I tried to smile, only it didn’t come easy.
Lucca’s fever had broken in the early afternoon before I went to Palmer’s Rents. I’d sat with him for four hours, laying strips of soaked linen across his head and doing my best to untangle his limbs from the knot of sheets. Pardieu was right – the laudanum calmed him eventually and gave his body the chance to ride it out. At last he lay still and his breathing came steady in his sleep. That was when I knew I could leave.
Peggy had sat with him all the time I was with Michael McCarthy.
I glanced past her to the door. There was someone else I wanted to see. He was in another room across the hall.
When I went back into the parlour with the smokes, Sam had been sitting on the floor with his back against the couch, his bandaged head resting on his knees. It was only when I sat down next to him that I realised he was asleep. Pardieu’s laudanum had finally run through his blood. Lok and Tan Seng had carried him up to the room next to Peggy’s and helped me lay him on the bed. I closed the shutters so the light wouldn’t disturb him and I put the smokes and another bottle of laudanum on the nightstand in case he woke in pain while I was gone.
When the brothers left the room I sat on the bed for a little while watching Sam Collins sleep.
We’ll make a matching pair for you now.
The two men I cared most about in all the world had suffered because of me.
I let go of Peggy’s hand and reached out to smooth Lucca’s pillow. He murmured as I pulled it straight, but he didn’t wake.
‘Can you sit with him for a little while longer, Peg? I’m going to see Sam.’
‘It’s too late.’ Peggy shook her head.
‘What do you mean, too late?’ The words lodged in my throat. ‘He’s not …’ I couldn’t even say it.
‘Of course not, Kit. He’s in a better way than Lucca.’ A great golden flower bloomed beneath my ribs. Of course, it was the lateness of the hour she meant. I turned away so she couldn’t see my eyes.
‘Don’t worry. I won’t wake him. I just want to see that …’ I just wanted to see him. That was the truth of it.
‘No, I mean he’s gone, Kit. He left about an hour before you came back. I was in here and I heard him on the stairs, so I went out.’
‘You should have stopped him. He was in no state to leave.’
‘I couldn’t force him to stay, could I? He was down the stairs and in the hall before I could catch him. Off like a sight hound after a hare he was.’
My heart started rapping out so loud I was sure she could hear it.
‘What did he say?’
‘Nothing much – just that he had to get going. I offered to change that bandage for fresh linen, but he wouldn’t wait.’
‘Did he … did he leave a message?’
Peggy stared at me. I saw the beginnings of an understanding creep across her face. She opened her mouth to say something but I looked away again, sharp.
‘You get off to bed, Peg. I’ll sit up with Lucca.’
It was only when she’d gone that I started to cry. I curled myself into a ball in the chair beside Lucca’s bed and let the tears slide down my face. I stared at the flame of the candle lamp and didn’t even bother to wipe them away.
I’d lost him. Sam knew exactly who and what I was now and he couldn’t get away quick enough. I didn’t blame him. I remembered a story book Joey had as a child – myths and legends from way back. Full of angry gods and punishments it was. There wasn’t much love in it. One of the stories came back to me now, something about a king who made a wish that everything he touched should turn to gold. Turns out it was a curse not a blessing.
Everything I touched turned to dust.
I must have fallen asleep in that chair – the first real sleep in days. When I woke light was coming through the shutter boards and Lucca was looking at me. He smiled and reached out. He tried to say something, but his voice was barely a whisper. I took his hand and bent close.
‘Grazie. Grazie mille, Fannella.’
I went to the bed, kissed his forehead and held him tight.
‘I don’t deserve thanks, Lucca.’
The Beetle stared at the bare boards in the gilded frame. If he wondered what had happened to the mirror, he didn’t ask. When I came back into my office at The Palace the broken glass had all been brushed away. In the early morning sunlight I could see some tiny glinting shards lodged between the floorboards, but that was all Lok had missed.
Telferman sniffed and pushed his spectacles up his nose.
‘I am glad you asked to see me this morning, Lady. I have something here for you …’ he tapped the battered leather case on his lap, ‘and there is a matter of greater urgency.’
‘No!’ I leaned across the desk. ‘Not today. That’s not how this meeting goes.’ I pushed the sheet of paper across the desk. ‘Brigid Strong. I want her cared for. The best place that my money can buy. I want to know where she is and how she is. I want regular reports. That’s her address – written down there.’ I pointed at the paper. ‘I want her to be treated gentle and with respect. Is that clear?’
He pulled the sheet towards him and glanced at me.
‘I understand that she is … that is to say, that she is associated with …’
‘Mr McCarthy – Swami Jonah. Is that who you mean?’
He nodded. ‘That is correct. I believe the two of them are …’
‘Not any more they’re not.’
Telferman stared across the desk.
‘He’s dead.’
The Beetle’s eyebrows shot up, the straying grey hairs bristling like horns. ‘Poor woman. First her daughter and now her … It is a great misfortune.’
‘Something of that nature. I want him buried decent and I want Edie’s name beneath his on his stone – she was his girl after all. You will arrange it, Mr Telferman.’
‘Of course.’ The Beetle picked at his yellow nails. ‘This is very sudden. Mr McCarthy was always useful to your grandmother. His contacts were sound except in the case of … Ah …’ He looked up and his nose wrinkled like he’d caught the scent of a good meat pie fresh from the oven.
‘Captain Houtman – the contact came through McCarthy.’
‘That don’t surprise me.’ I opened a drawer in the desk and took out a sealed envelope as the Beetle went on. ‘And, of course, you are aware of what happened to Houtman’s boat, the Gouden Kalf, two nights ago?’
I scrawled a name on the envelope without looking up. ‘I reckon you already know the answer to that.’
I heard Telferman drum his fingers on his case. ‘A most unfortunate accident. The lightning was attracted to the metal of the funnel. There were no survivors.’
‘Did Mr Das tell you that?’
‘Indeed, Lady.’ Telferman nodded solemnly. ‘Now, if I may, there are several matters—’
‘Wait.’ I handed him the letter. ‘This is for Mr Das. As it is not addressed to you, I trust you won’t open it. It will be best for you if you don’t know what’s inside. It relates to my brother.’
Immediately, he dropped the letter onto the leather of the desk top like it burned his fingers. He snapped open the case and I heard the rustle of papers as he filed it carefully away.
I promised Joey I’d get him out of Bedlam. The letter was the beginning of it.
The Beetle continued to rummage about. After a moment he pulled out a stack of ribbon-bound documents and a large rectangular parcel wrapped in brown paper. He placed them between us.
‘These are for you – items from Lady Ginger. Matters relating to the estate and several other—’
I held up my hand. ‘One more thing before I let you have your say. Are you familiar with the passages down by Bell Wharf Stairs?’
‘Familiar is not a word I’d use, but yes, I know of them.’ His eyes strayed to the documents. ‘Really, Lady, I must—’
‘What you must do is listen to me. There’s a woman living in those passages. Her name’s Dora and she has, had …’ I corrected myself, ‘a child, a baby. If she’s still alive in that stinking warren I want her found and I want her to be given the same treatment as Brigid Strong – medical treatment for her condition and a gentle place to live out the rest of her days. Is that all understood?’
The Beetle frowned, but he nodded.
Christ! It was nothing to me, any of it, but it was a start.
‘Now – you go ahead. I imagine you want to tell me it’s time for the Barons’ Aestas session?’
Telferman shifted uncomfortably and shook his head.
‘I am sorry, Lady.’
‘Don’t be. I’ll be ready for them.’
‘You misunderstand me. It is not the Aestas session that is a matter of immediate urgency.’
Telferman’s little half-moon spectacles caught the sunlight from the window.
‘It is your grandmother’s funeral.’