It was obvious from the response to the declaration by Belle Boyd that the two owners of the gambling house and their staff were prepared to deal with the kind of situation her words threatened to provoke.
However, although the girl was not yet aware of the fact, her misgivings over the presence of Roxanne Fortescue-Smethers were needless.
In fact, the red-haired Englishwoman was about to prove herself a useful ally.
At the other end of the long faro table, Roxanne was feeling a surge of relief as she watched what was happening. Keeping the promise he had made when agreeing to supply the instruction, Captain Anatol de-Farge had not told her or anybody else why Belle had been receiving lessons in the less-than-fair handling of a sword. Thinking about the matter, the redhead had concluded that it had something to do with the girl intending to avenge the murder of her parents. While it had come as a surprise to see Belle arrive at the gambling house dressed and behaving in such an untypical fashion, Roxanne had felt the reason might prove beneficial to the purpose for which she had come.
A matter of family honor affecting her employer, for whom she had such a great liking and respect that she had not hesitated before agreeing when asked to render the assistance he requested, was responsible for the redhead’s being present. Phillipe de-Farge was among those officers who had transferred allegiance at the approach of open hostilities between the Southern and Northern states by going to serve as a lieutenant in the Army of what soon became called the Johnny Rebs. Posted to the staff of the commanding general in Atlanta, he had fallen so deeply into debt as a result of playing various games of chance at the gambling house operated by Martin Jacques and David Hunt that he had committed suicide.
Having read the letter the young lieutenant wrote to his parents just before shooting himself, Anatol de-Farge had been convinced there was more than just the repayment of the money. He had always had a liking for Phillipe, and being aware of the pride the other had always shown for the military career, he had concluded that the deed was done to avoid being compelled to deliver secrets that would be detrimental to the Confederate States’ cause. Being just as loyal to the South, he had sworn he would find out whether the supposition was correct. Furthermore, the family’s French-Creole code of honor— to which Anatol adhered as strictly as any of the others, regardless of his way of life—demanded that some action be taken to lessen the stigma of suicide. Therefore, he had been determined to find out the truth of the matter and take revenge on the pair whether his suppositions proved correct or the debt had been incurred as a result of cheating.
As far as Anatol de-Farge knew, his path had never crossed that of either Jacques or Hunt. However, he was aware that men of the kind he suspected them to be frequently changed their names. Even if this did not apply, he had been successful in one affair of honor that aroused much interest and was brought to public attention during an earlier visit to Atlanta. Therefore, because he was sufficiently well known as a gambler and a duelist to make it unlikely he could pass unrecognized at the gambling house, and in all probability his connection with his cousin would be remembered.
With those contingencies in mind, de-Farge had brought Roxanne—the one of his female employees he considered the most intelligent, very trustworthy because of the close relationship that had developed between them, and possessed of the courage necessary for doing what was required—with him to Atlanta. Staying with friends he knew could be relied on not to let his presence in the city become known, he had had the redhead dress in a suitable fashion and provided sufficient money to aid her pose of being a very successful—as Joseph Brambile had thought of her—”lady of the evening” who liked to use her earnings for gambling. She had come to the gambling house to carry out a reconnaissance and, if possible, to find out whether he could pay a visit without having his true identity exposed.
How successfully Roxanne had played the part was shown when, on her arrival, she was taken into the partners’ private office and subjected to questioning about matters that did not pertain to gambling. Jacques had started by wanting to know where she came from, and her reply was that she was visiting Atlanta to decide whether to move there, as she was getting tired of working in Charleston. Asked if she had come to their place in search of clients, showing the contents of her well-filled reticule, she had stated that her only interest was in trying her luck at one or other of their games. They had said they had no objections to this being done, and Hunt warned that they would expect twenty-five percent of any money she was to receive if she should change her mind and take one of the customers to participate in her line of business. Saying the contingency was remote, she had agreed to do as was demanded.
The arrival of Belle and the elderly-looking man had come as something of a shock to the redhead. While she could not imagine why the beautiful Southern girl was dressed and behaving in such an untypical fashion, she had felt sure that it was not for the obvious reason. However, concluding that Belle had not become a prostitute and might not even be pretending to be one, she had decided against going over and satisfying her curiosity by suggesting that they were acquainted on that account. Realizing that the girl must be experiencing the same kind of consternation that she had felt, she had derived a little amusement at seeing the overt glances directed her way and the response when she was caught doing the same.
Hearing the statement made by the girl and seeing the response it was eliciting, Roxanne realized that the playacting had been leading up to it for some reason. While unable to guess what this might be, she decided that she might serve her own and de-Farge’s ends by helping out. She had a Henry Derringer pistol loaded, the necessary percussion cap ready for detonation, in her reticule; but it held only a single shot and she had another weapon available that she would be able to use more than once if the need arose, and she felt certain it would. Nevertheless, she refused to let herself be deterred by the danger. In addition to the liking she had formed toward the girl, who could almost certainly have beaten her using savate and had willingly engaged in putting on a show instead of doing so—also insisted upon her keeping all of the gratuities that the enthusiastic audience donated in spite of its deliberately brought about “indecisive” conclusion—she felt sure de-Farge would not approve if she failed to play a part in whatever was to come.
~*~
Exchanging angry glances, Martin Jacques and David Hunt started to stalk toward the main faro table. Without needing to be instructed, a couple of the burly bouncers started to converge on their employers and the rest began to watch the other players for any sign of taking undue interest in what had been claimed. Stiffening slightly, knowing what was expected of him in such circumstances, the dealer for the game of faro accused of cheating was aware that an examination of the screw box would probably be demanded by the other players and anybody with a knowledge of such things would realize its purpose made the claim valid. Therefore, he prepared to carry out his instructions by exchanging it for one that was identical except for being constructed without the embellishments needed for cheating.
“I must ask you to keep control of your worn—!” the bulkier of the pair began, all trace of amiability having left his face.
The words came to an end as Jacques and his companion saw—and were amazed more than puzzled—by what Belle was doing.
The girl had decided against having a handbag of any kind with her, and the nature of her attire had prevented her from bringing even a weapon as small as a Derringer single-shot pistol or one of its many copies manufactured with ease of concealability in mind. However, the omission did not mean she was without adequate means of defending herself. She had, in fact, come prepared for the contingency that she knew would arise once her companion was satisfied that cheating was taking place and she announced this in the way she had done. Nor was she placing her reliance solely on the bracelet with the sharpened section of its rim given to her by Captain Anatol de-Farge as a means of defensive or offensive action. She had been warned of the risks that would be entailed, but was counting on the element of surprise giving her an opportunity she intended to make the most of.
Grasping the dainty and fragile-looking parasol at the top of the rolled canopy in her left hand, Belle did not intend to make use of its special function for the moment. Nevertheless, despite realizing that she must carry out her other idea to provide the effect she desired, she found forcing herself with more effort than she had anticipated would be needed when planning for such a contingency. What she intended to do was something that her upbringing came close to revolting against. However, she steeled her resolve by recollecting that she had permitted herself to be stripped to the waist while supposedly fighting with Roxanne Fortescue-Smethers in the ring at Captain Anatol de-Farge’s gambling house near Baton Bayou— where there were men who might have recognized her despite the change of hair color and if the mask she wore had been displaced—for a far less important reason than the serious business she was engaged upon this night. Sucking in a quick breath, she compelled herself to use her right hand to give a sharp tug at the waistband of her crinoline dress. Doing so proved this to be a garment in two portions. As was intended and had always happened when she practiced the move before a full-length mirror in the privacy of her room at Rose Green-how’s home, the hem of the skirt opened.
On the girl giving the required quick shaking motion from her hips, the liberated skirt began to slide downward. The unexpected development was followed with interest by the gazes of more than one pair of masculine eyes, but she was concerned only with the effect it was having on the two men. What was brought into view was both satisfying to their lascivious proclivities and puzzling. While the falling away of the garment showed that she was wearing abbreviated white frilly-legged satin pantalets, and that the red slashes of suspender straps descended to support black stockings adding to the allure, she had on sharp-toed black riding boots with moderate heels instead of the kind of footwear that might be expected to be in accord with the kind of ensemble she had selected to give credence to her role as “Magnolia Beauregard.”
As soon as the girl started the discarding of the skirt, having been told on the way to the gambling house what would happen—as both had agreed it was practically certain to occur— when the need to do so arose, Brambile rose and swiftly slid out the blade of the sword that was concealed in his ebony walking cane. However, he did not start to put it to use. Instead, he just held it where the clearly razor-sharp and needle-pointed Toledo steel could be seen. Knowing there could be a need for an even more potent means of controlling the situation, he sent his right hand to pass with an equal alacrity behind his back beneath the loosely fitting white frock coat, to emerge holding a Colt 1860 Army Model revolver that had had its loading lever removed and barrel shortened to two inches. However, the modification did not cause it to be any less effective as a weapon at the close quarters he would need to use it should the situation demand.
“Drop the screw box!” the gambler demanded, leveling the gun at the dealer. All suggestion of being of advanced years had fallen away from him, but just a hint of Colonel Culpepper returned to his voice as he continued dryly, “Or would you care to take odds on avoiding a new head?”
While Brambile was having his command obeyed, at the other end of the table a potential threat to Belle and himself was being nullified.
Seeing that one of the massive bouncers was coming her way, Roxanne stood up with a vehemence that sent her chair skidding across the well-polished floor and warned him vocally that he should change his mind on the issue. Being employed for bulk and muscle rather than intelligence, he neglected to accept the suggestion. Thrusting forward his right arm, he was ready to shove the redhead aside when he found that his idea was fraught with problems he had not envisaged. A shake of her right wrist caused a bracelet similar to the one de-Farge had given to the slender girl to slide down until she could grasp it by the unsharpened portion.
Knocking the approaching hand aside with her left forearm and using the skill she had acquired during the real and faked fights in which she had engaged for the entertainment of de-Farge’s customers, the redhead swung the disguised weapon so its cutting edge laid open his cheek. Jerking her elegant dress’s skirt with her other hand until it was high enough to allow the required freedom of movement, she used her left foot to give an added impetus as he staggered back, his hands going to the bleeding gash. Tripping, he sat down on the floor with a thud that drove all the breath from his lungs and rendered him incapable of doing anything other than sit there.
“Keep out of it!” Roxanne commanded as men who were acting as dealer and supervisor at a nearby table given over to chemin de fer rose from their places.
While speaking, the redhead crouched with the bloodstained bracelet grasped ready for use. The demeanor she presented and the look on her face made her appear to be as dangerous as a bobcat facing up to a pack of hounds. Both being shorter and less heavily built than the bouncer with whom she had dealt so effectively, also being employed for their manipulative skills with a deck of cards rather than the brawn required to deal with recalcitrant players, the pair took the warning she gave to heart and resumed their seats to await developments on the part of others more capable of tackling the furiously glaring woman.
Before either Jacques or Hunt could recover from their surprise and start moving again after the unexpected development had caused them to halt a short distance away, Belle stepped clear of the skirt and went into action. Having disliked the way in which Hunt had looked her over on arrival and since, she made him the first subject of her attention. Gliding forward, she whipped her right leg upward. The way she did so proved she had not forgotten the suggestion made by Captain Alexandre Dartagnan while they were discussing the means she had employed when attempting to go to the assistance of Alfred Higgins on the night of the abortive robbery in Richmond.
Rising between the inadvertently parted thighs of the gambling house’s tall and gaunt partner, the toe of Belle’s boot— which proved even more efficacious than the footwear worn for savate boxing would have been—struck upon a most vulnerable portion of his anatomy with considerable force. Even as he was letting out a strangled gurgle of agony and folding over, his assailant gave her attention to his partner, thinking that the result produced by following Dartagnan’s advice made doing so worthwhile under the prevailing conditions.
However, on this occasion, the girl did not try to use the same kind of tactics.
Instead, having grasped the parasol just below its handle as soon as she no longer needed her other hand for helping retain her balance while delivering the devastating kick, Belle gave a twist at it in opposite directions with both hands. On separating into two portions, the handle section—which had a small metal ball on top—was swung in a whip like upward arc. Proving to be attached to a coil spring that emerged from being telescoped into the interior, the ball was given an added impetus as it struck Jacques on the temple with a resounding thwack. With eyes glazing, his head snapped around and his bulky body crumpled like a rag doll from which all the stuffing has suddenly been removed, and he fell flaccidly to the floor.
“Calm yourselves, ladies and gentlemen!” Brambile thundered as the second of the men attacked by the girl went down. ‘The charge made by my companion is true. Cheating is taking place in this game, and I can prove it!”
Having laid down his sword while speaking, the gambler quickly removed a silver whistle from his left-side outer jacket pocket. In answer to the shrill and loud blast he gave upon it, the front and other doors of the room were burst open. Soldiers, men wearing the distinctive blue uniforms of the Atlanta Police Department, and a few civilians entered swiftly. The latter group included Alfred Higgins, whose skill at manipulating his “twirls” had gained them admittance, and their surprise arrival had allowed them to silence any chance of an outcry being given by the staff who were working other than in the main room. Since they were all carrying revolvers, their entrance caused the remainder of the gambling house’s staff to put aside any thoughts of hostilities.
Nor did any of the people who had been playing the various games raise any objections over what had happened. There were no laws prohibiting gambling in the city any more than elsewhere through the South, so they were all motivated by a desire to find out whether the allegations of cheating could be substantiated. Introducing himself and finding that he was known by reputation if not sight to a number of the crowd, Brambile soon satisfied them on the matter by demonstrating the use of the screw box and describing how other malpractices had been carried out. Having been told that they would be able to recoup whatever losses they had incurred that evening— although some of the more senior officers wanted to know what had caused the gambler and “Miss Beauregard” to arrive so fortuitously and accepted the promise made by Colonel Charles Jeremiah Mason that he would submit a report in writing the following day—they all settled down to await the return of the money.
While the men were attending to things, Belle went to thank Roxanne for not having exposed her as well as for preventing the participation of the bouncer and other members of the staff. In return, the redhead assured Belle that the feeling regarding not having been given away were mutual and that things were far from being as they appeared in her case, then promised to make a full explanation at a more propitious moment. Belle agreed to the arrangement and suggested that Roxanne should avail herself of the offer to recoup her losses, and she said that she would be delighted to do so with perhaps a little added to the actual sum. She also remarked with a twinkle in her eyes that it was a pity Jacques and Hunt did not have a ring set up so they could earn themselves some money by entertaining the gamblers with another stirring and profitable “fight.” Also amused by the proposition, the girl said she doubted whether her superior would be in favor of her taking part in such a thing.
~*~
“I would like to congratulate you on a most excellent piece of work last night, Miss Boyd, Mr. Brambile,” Colonel Charles Mason announced once the pair were seated across from him at his desk. They had been asked to be there at nine o’clock in the morning and had felt it incumbent upon them to arrive punctually, which he showed signs of appreciating. “When he recovered from your—attack, ma’am, Hunt proved to be most cooperative in the hope of saving his neck. With Jacques being dead and unable to deny the charge, he claimed he was not involved in the blackmailing which obtained military secrets for the North and had, in fact, only learned such was taking place that evening. We found all we needed to know and retrieved all the latest acquisitions from the safe which he opened for us. There will be nothing more going to the Yankees.”
“Do the names of the victims have to be made public, sir?” the girl asked, having learned after leaving together what brought Roxanne Fortescue-Smethers to the gambling house so fortuitously and hoping to avoid having the cause of Lieutenant Phillipe de-Farge’s suicide become known.
“We don’t intend to do so,” Mason declared. “It won’t achieve anything other than ruin some promising careers, and I feel sure none of them will ever make a similar mistake after I or the commanding general have interviewed them. I trust you don’t feel too badly over what happened to Jacques, Miss Boyd?”
“I don’t,” Belle replied. “Although I would have preferred that it didn’t happen.”
Having been told before she left the gambling house that the blow to the temple from her spring-loaded weapon had caused such a severe concussion that its recipient died without regaining consciousness, the girl had felt only a slight remorse. The man she had struck down was an enemy of the South— who could also be considered a traitor, it having been discovered from Hunt that he was born in Nashville, Tennessee, a state that had espoused the Confederate cause—working for financial gain rather than patriotism or support of the Union.
Belle had taken additional solace from also having been convinced that, having the accusation of cheating made, the pair would not have hesitated to take reprisals of a severe nature against herself and Brambile. Considering the lecherous way in which Jacques and Hunt had looked at her, probably these would have even entailed rape where she was concerned. What was more, she had accepted when becoming a member of the Confederate States Secret Service that her duties might entail the taking of another human being’s life. It was also her sworn intention to kill George Tollinger and Alfred Barmain if she was granted an opportunity.
By her action when dealing with Jacques, Belle Boyd had taken another step along the road that would lead to her becoming known as the Rebel Spy.