Jack

Seattle, WA—Evangeline’s Workshop

Saturday, September 4, 1909

MY HAIR WAS damp with sweat. It was too early in the morning to be sweating, but Ruth had brought over more crates of booze than normal because of Seattle Day, and I had to unload it from her cart before George arrived because she refused to be within a hundred feet of him.

“For the last time,” she said. “I’m telling you this is a bad idea. You can’t trust Laszlo, and you definitely can’t trust George.”

I doubted it would be the last time she told me. It certainly wasn’t the first. “Don’t you think I know that? But what am I supposed to do?”

“Come up with another plan.”

“If I could, I would have. But this is all I’ve got.”

Ruth threw up her hands. “Fine. But when this goes bad, don’t expect me not to say I told you so.”

“If I can get Evangeline and Lucia working together without murdering each other, I can handle George. I just need you and Jessamy to do your parts.”

Ruth frowned at me like there was ever a question. “I talked to that awful security officer at the exposition, and Jessa’s doing what she can, but don’t expect miracles, Jack Nevin.”

Miracles were exactly what I needed. “What about you?”

“Actually,” Ruth said, “I do have a theory.”

Hope surged within me. “And?”

“I talked to Granny Zhao—”

“Wait; I thought you were doing research in the college library.” Granny Zhao was an ancient woman with a sharp wit and a wicked sense of humor who worked in the Chinese market. I liked her well enough, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to take medical advice from her.

“Are you going to let me finish? Because I’ve got better things to do.”

“Sorry.”

“I did try the library, but I could hardly go ten seconds without some nervous librarian asking me if I needed help. It was impossible to get anything done in there. But I was talking to Granny Zhao and she told me about a so-called doctor who sold a tonic that caused the same symptoms you described Wil as having.”

“And?” I asked, barely able to contain myself.

“Dr. Williams’ Pink Pills for Pale People.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Ruth went to the front of the cart and returned with a bottle full of round pink pills, and handed it to me. “They’re supposed to cure chorea, headaches, weakness, and pale complexions like yours—among other things. Cost fifty cents at the druggist. You can pay me back.”

The pills definitely looked like what Wilhelm had shown me.

“Granny Zhao said taking too much iron made people sick, and she says if Wilhelm’s taking them, he should stop.”

“Did you say iron?” My eyes went to the label on the bottle. Right there it read “A Safe & Effective IRON Tonic.”

“I don’t know what disease Laszlo would be giving Wilhelm iron for, but chances are that it’s making him sick instead of better.”

But I knew exactly why. Laszlo had probably discovered that feeding Wilhelm iron limited the distance he could Travel. He made up the story about Wil being sick and told him the pills would help, but Laszlo had been poisoning him the whole time.

I kissed Ruth’s cheek. “You are brilliant! You and Granny Zhao!”

“I know,” Ruth said, though she looked a little confused. I wished I could tell her why this was such an important discovery. Maybe when this was over Wil would explain it to her. Until then, I was more grateful than she would ever know.

“I’ll see you Monday?” I asked as Ruth was preparing to leave.

Ruth nodded and drove off, leaving me to wait for George. I had to find a way to let Wil know to stop taking the pills, but there wasn’t much time. I just hoped Evangeline and Lucia’s plan worked. It was overly complicated and there were so many ways it could fail, but it was a better plan than anything I’d been able to come up with.

George McElroy arrived a few minutes after Ruth left, looking like he’d slept in an alley. The cart looked a little battered too, and the horse pulling it didn’t seem to care much for George.

“No Ruth?” he asked.

“She couldn’t leave fast enough.”

George sneered. “Well, Mr. Barnes told me I could do better than her anyway. Now that Miss Valentine—”

“God, you are thick, aren’t you?” I heaved the nearest crate into the back of the cart. “Let’s just get this over with.”

The work would’ve gone faster if George had helped me load the crates, but he said that wasn’t part of his job. Normally, I would’ve told him where he could shove a booze bottle, wide end first, but fighting with him wasn’t going to do any good.

When we finally got on our way, I was determined to sit quietly until we reached the exposition and I could be rid of George. But my curiosity got the best of me.

“Why are we doing this?” I asked. “Why does Laszlo need me to get this cart through the gate?”

George smirked, which made me want to punch that greasy look right off his face. “You really think I’m gonna tell you?”

“You don’t know, do you?”

“Of course I do! Mr. Barnes trusts me.”

I snorted derisively. “Then he’s not very smart.”

George moved like he was going to hit me, but I threw him a look that made him think twice.

“Mr. Barnes has got something planned that is gonna knock your socks off.”

“And he needs the cart for it?”

“He needs me for it,” George said. “And that’s what’s important.”

The fact that George thought he was important was laughable.

“But the cart’s important enough that he wanted me to get it through the gates. Or is it something you’re carrying in the cart?”

George’s brow furrowed, and I knew right then that I’d guessed it. He didn’t have a clue why Laszlo had arranged this. Laszlo probably hadn’t confided so much as the horse’s name to George.

“Just shut up and make sure we don’t have any problems at the gate, or you and me are gonna have a problem.”

I rolled my eyes but kept my mouth shut until we pulled up to the entrance of the exposition.

There were five security guards at the gate instead of the normal two, and I didn’t recognize any of them. They eyed us as we approached, and I could feel George tensing up beside me.

“There always this many guards?” George whispered.

“Of course,” I said. “Nothing to worry about.”

The guard nearest to George tipped his hat and said, “Morning, boys. Wanna tell me what you’re carrying?”

George went quiet and the blood drained from his face.

“I’m Jack Nevin. I’m the Enchantress’s assistant. Where’s Carl? I come through a couple times a week.”

The other four guards had all gravitated toward the back of the horse cart.

“Carl’s not working today,” the guard said. “And I don’t care who you are. What’s in the crates?”

“Magic!” George said. “It’s magic!”

I glared at him and said to the officer, “Horse kicked him in the head once. Boy can’t say more than one word at a time, and even that’s asking a lot. But he’s right. Everything in the crates is property of the Enchantress. Devices and machines for her illusions. She’s got it in her contract that no one’s allowed to look inside.”

The security officer nodded like he understood. “Be that as it may, I’m still going to need to open them up.”

“But you—” I began, but he cut me off.

“I’ve got it on good authority that you’ve been smuggling alcohol in.”

One of the security officers in the back had brought a crowbar with him and had already wedged it under one lid.

Quickly, I fanned a set of tickets in the air. “You like magic? I can get you a personal meeting with the Enchantress.”

The lid of one crate opened with a crack, and an officer held up a bottle of booze.

The officer nearest to me dangled a pair of handcuffs in front of my face. “Let’s see you magic your way out of these.”

George and I sat locked in an office while we waited to see what they were going to do to us. I had, in fact, managed to get out of my handcuffs, but George was still stuck in his, and he was not happy about it.

“This is your fault,” George said. “You did this on purpose!”

“I know you haven’t got much in the way of brains, but try using them for once.” I waited to see if he’d reply, but he didn’t. “Do you think I’d do anything that I thought might make Laszlo hurt Wil? No, I wouldn’t. Plus, I’m gonna go broke repaying Ruth for all the liquor that got confiscated.”

I doubted there was any chance I’d get it back. The security guards had probably already divvied it up among themselves.

“Then it’s her fault! I knew we couldn’t trust her!” George spit. “How could I have ever thought I loved her?”

“It wasn’t Ruth,” I said. “What could she possibly have to gain?”

A portly security guard who’d introduced himself as Earl when the other guards had brought us in stood in the doorway. “Actually,” he said, “your blond friend is right.”

“He’s not my friend,” I muttered.

“Told you so,” George said.

I shook my head. “Ruth would never rat me out.”

Earl shrugged. “Wappy put up quite a handsome reward for finding out who was smuggling booze into the fair. Must’ve been mighty tempting.”

“No way,” I said. “There’s no way Ruth turned me in for money. I don’t care how bad she needed it—”

“I told you she was no good,” George said.

Earl glanced at the handcuffs, which should’ve been around my wrists but weren’t, shrugged, and motioned for me to follow him.

Evangeline Dubois was waiting for us in a larger room of the security office. “There you are. This is the second time I’ve had to pull your boots out of the fire.” She had arrived wearing a matronly dress that would have been more at home on dowdy Jacqueline Anastas, yet there was still something borderline scandalous about the way it settled across her hips and shoulders, and I wasn’t the only one who had noticed.

“I can handle this on my own, Mother,” I said.

Earl cleared his throat and motioned for us to sit. “Miss Dubois—”

Evangeline had told me once that the secret to ensuring a man would do what she wanted was to treat him like a child; that using an unpredictable combination of carrot and stick made men tractable and tame.

“Evangeline,” she said, extending her hand. “Please.”

Earl shook her hand, unable to look directly at her, yet unable to look away either. “Uh, Jack here’s in a bit of trouble.” Earl stumbled over every other word, and it was a wonder he managed to get through a complete sentence. “Nothing, uh, we can’t work out, I’m sure.”

“Yes,” Evangeline said, “Jack does seem to find himself in trouble quite often.”

“We caught him trying to smuggle alcohol into the exposition. We opened the crates—”

“How dare you!” Evangeline snapped. “The apparatuses in those crates are the property of the Enchantress, and you had no right to open them!”

Earl’s head snapped back as if she’d slapped him. “We didn’t look at nothing. But there was alcohol, and, as you know, alcohol’s forbidden on—”

“Of course,” Evangeline said. “You were only doing your job. And an important job it is.”

“Well, yes, ma’am.” Earl doffed his hat and raked his hands through his thinning hair.

“What will happen to Jack?” Evangeline asked. “Will you keep him in jail? Perhaps a public flogging would ensure he behaves in the future.”

“Wappy . . . um . . . Chief Wappenstein, that is, just wants to keep booze out, so Jack here’s banned from the exposition—”

“Unacceptable,” Evangeline said. “Jack is my assistant, and I cannot work without him.”

Earl held up his hands in surrender. “Of course, I think it’ll be all right if he comes in to work the shows, but he’s gotta stay under your supervision, and if we catch him smuggling so much as a flask in, we will throw him in jail.”

“Do you hear that, Jack?” Evangeline said. “You must mind me at all times, and never leave my sight.” She smiled coyly at Earl. “I had a Scottish terrier when I was a girl who would always run off. ‘Taffy!’ I would call. ‘Taffy, don’t run too far!’”

Earl furrowed his brow and squinted. “Well, dogs will run if you let them.”

“Poor Taffy was trampled by a horse, and I learned my lesson. Never let your pet off its leash.” Evangeline patted her leg and looked at me. “Come on, Jack. That’s a good boy.”

It took everything in me to meet her gaze and not raise my fingers in a satisfying but empty gesture.

“About your cart,” Earl said. “We’ll have to keep it and its contents for the time being, but you’re welcome to take the horse.”

Evangeline waved her hand dismissively. “The animal belongs to the other boy.”

“I see.” Earl nodded. “Then I guess that’s all I need from you.” He fixed me with a stern gaze and wagged a finger at me. “Now you shape up and don’t cause any more problems, understand?”

“Yes, sir.” I shook his hand. “Thank you for your understanding and compassion.” I kept shaking his hand until he finally pulled free.

“Come along, Jack,” Evangeline said. “We’ve taken up enough of this gentleman’s time.”

“Yes, Mother.”

As soon as we were out of the room and walking toward the street car that would return us to the hotel, Evangeline said, “Well, Jack? What do you have to say for yourself?”

“What do you want me to say?”

Evangeline scoffed. “An apology would be nice.” When I didn’t respond, she added, “Mother? I don’t look old enough to be anyone’s mother.”

“You never had a dog named Taffy either.”

With a sigh, Evangeline said, “Did that dull-witted boy believe Ruth Jackson betrayed you? It won’t do for him to think you had something to do with it.”

“I put on a performance for the ages. Even you would’ve thought Ruth actually set us up.” Ruth hadn’t liked the idea, but she hadn’t argued real hard against it either. It helped Wil, hurt George, and put a fair bit of money in the form of the reward in her pocket, even after accounting for the liquor that was confiscated. It was a win for everyone.

Evangeline rolled her eyes. “And did you get what I asked for?”

I fingered the key in my pocket as a slow smile spread across my face. “Yes, Mother, I most certainly did.”