That night went no differently than any other, and I woke at Honor’s knock feeling drained and weary. One more day — and one more night — to endure before I could try finding David Bryce. I sat numbly sipping my tea, watching the rain fall outside as servants, horses, and dogs trudged in the mud.

What was I doing? Was this worth it?

Perhaps I shouldn’t trust Morton at all. Perhaps it was wiser not to go out tomorrow, to find a different way to the Diamond quadrant, not use his help.

I could meet up with a madman, a strangler, who might do the same to me. I could find myself delivered to Jack Diamond — who might be one and the same — by this Morton’s hand, and might very well meet my end. Perhaps I had no need to put myself into peril tomorrow. I could simply tell Tony where David was and then … what?

No, Tony couldn’t save the child, even if he believed my information and didn’t care how I got it. Could Tony, of all people, get into the Diamond quadrant unnoticed? Even if he did, for him to go to the Diamond Party Time plant and rescue David … I would have to go also, if only to identify the child.

Jacqueline Spadros, I thought, you’re being a coward.

I considered little David Bryce, Air’s brother, alone. Or worse, in the company of a madman who had already strangled his older brother — perhaps even in front of him. I felt ashamed.

If I wanted to get the child back, using Morton’s offer of help was the best way I had found so far, and I needed to move soon. I couldn’t wait for another opportunity. Otherwise, I could be chasing rumors of David’s whereabouts forever. But I wasn’t going to blindly assume Blaze Rainbow intended to protect me, or even had the same objective.

When Amelia arrived with my newspaper, I stared at it, feeling I missed something, something important. I pushed my tea and toast aside, then I put the newspaper on the windowsill, to get it out of the way. “Amelia, bring me pen, ink, sealing-wax and writing-paper, five sheets.”

“Yes, mum,” she said.

“And ask Madame Biltcliffe to send the corset I asked her to make me.”

“I’ll send a note right away, mum.”

When she returned with the items I asked her for, I wrote a letter addressed to Madame Biltcliffe:

If you do not hear from me in three days, go to the police. In my dresser is further information. —JS

I put the letter in my pocket. Then I wrote everything I knew about the case so far, including my speculations about Morton: three pages worth. I folded and sealed it, locking it in my dresser. The fact I needed to do it felt terrifying. Afterward, I felt relieved.

Tony went into his study after breakfast, accompanied by Sawbuck and several of his other men, doubtless plotting about Frank Pagliacci.

I went to Crab and Duck’s room, a guest room above the parlor; one of Tony’s men stood guard. “Morning, Mrs. Spadros.”

“Good morning. May I speak with Crab?”

The man opened the door. “You want me to come in?”

“It’s not necessary.” I glanced at Crab, who sat in a chair beside Duck’s bed. “I’ll only be a moment.”

“I’ll be right outside,” the man said, and closed the door.

I rarely went into the guest rooms, but they were much like the rest of the house: white furniture, gray tile. Duck snored softly, his face pink. Crab’s eyes were bleary, his clothes rumpled.

I drew up a chair and sat. “When are you supposed to report in?”

“Tomorrow, after luncheon. I go to the river promenade, and signal if I’m not being followed. If he doesn’t see anyone he walks with me and we talk.”

Perfect timing for what I had in mind.

Might Tony and his men have planned to catch Pagliacci at this meeting? Would Tony risk a gunfight in a crowded place? “What exactly did Mr. Pagliacci tell you to say about the boy?”

Crab thought a moment. “He said to say that the boy was ten, with dark hair and eyes. Also to say he tormented the boy, and the boy would cry for his mother. He said, say it just like that.”

Interesting. “How were you to say he tormented the boy?”

“Whispering to him. We were to make it sound horrible.”

What could this man be about? Was this a game to him?

I had an idea. “Mr. Spadros will tell you to report to Mr. Pagliacci tomorrow, and give you words to say. What I would like you to also say is that you mentioned the boy, but we care nothing about him.”

Crab’s eyes narrowed, then he nodded.

This would either cause Pagliacci to relax, or he would become suspicious and return to Diamond at once. But it would be too late. With luck, Morton and I would have the boy and be gone before Pagliacci knew we were there.

If Tony’s men played this right, they could capture Pagliacci once he left the promenade. If David were a pawn, or held important information, Pagliacci might focus on securing David rather than on watching behind him. “Thank you for your help.”

Crab seemed worried. “Duck’s face feels hot.”

* * *

Tony and his men were eating luncheon in the study, but I asked Pearson to call the doctor.

Dr. Salmon arrived an hour later to examine Duck. He later asked to speak with Tony, then left, returning with a male assistant and two large basins.

Tony’s men moved Crab to another room while the doctor worked. We heard Crab griping all the way in the dining room. Duck howled in pain from time to time, accompanied by Crab’s sobbing screams. It made for an unsettling dinner.

When Dr. Salmon came downstairs, he looked grim. “Your man has a severely infected wound and diabetes mellitus.”

“What’s that?” I said.

“The sugar disease,” Dr. Salmon said.

I felt shocked. How had the man lived this long?

“I removed a great deal of infection from the wound, along with the bullet, which went too deep to find yesterday, and washed the wound with whiskey. Astonishing, how much purulence his body generated in 24 hours. I’ve given him medication for pain and fever. But he needs close attention, and may not survive.”

“I’ll have rooms set up for you and your assistant,” Tony said. “Whatever you need. We must not lose the man.” Duck was our only hold on Crab, who was our only link to Frank Pagliacci.

Tony went to the men, and I followed. Before he got to Duck and Crab’s room, I took hold of Tony’s arm. “We must tell Crab.”

Tony shook his head. “We can’t tell Crab how serious this is until after he passes this message along. He must believe Duck has a chance to survive.”

“At least let me go with you. He might believe it from me.”

Tony shook his head. “You are a woman, and unused to hiding your emotions. If you are there, he will see the truth in your eyes.”

If I denied it, I told Tony that I hid my emotions on a daily basis, destroying what little trust he held for me.

Tony went to the door and shook hands with the man on guard. I stood nearby as Tony went inside, leaning my head back against the wall.

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“Ho, Crab, how is he?”

“I might ask you that, sir.”

“The doctor retrieved the bullet: it’s a good sign.”

“I’m grateful.” I heard low murmurs back and forth for quite some time. In the middle, it sounded as if Crab were crying.

I didn’t know how to feel. Crab betrayed the Family, and the penalty was death. Yet Tony killed a man Crab loved for no good reason, then shot another for even less reason, who might now be dying. Crab was no dummy; surely he saw the conflict of interest Tony faced when telling him anything.

Then Tony said, “How are you to mark all is well?”

“I use this kerchief here. This red one. He said, use red to show all is well.”

“This isn’t red, Crab, it’s brown.”

“But … it’s the one he gave me.” Crab wasn’t sure.

“Then use that. Nothing must alarm him.”

The door opened and Tony came out. “Guard them well.”

* * *

Someone pushed me out of a carriage. I fell on the rough cobblestones. Strangers gathered around me. My knees burned.

“Fine dress for a Pot rag,” an older girl said, yanking on it, laughing as it ripped.

I struggled to my feet.

“Combed hair and everything, ain’t she fancy,” a man said. He spat in my face. “Too fancy to whore for the likes of us.”

I ran from them, down a long passageway, a flight of stairs, a maze of machinery, searching for something.

The dark shape of a man followed me in the shadows, coming closer each time I looked back. A diagonal of light crossed Jack’s face. A dagger glinted in his hand. Terror filled me. But I moved so slowly …

“Ahhh!” I woke, my heart pounding.

Tony was already gone, but Amelia had not been in yet. The drapes were shut, only a pale line showed that dawn was near.

I lay back in bed, taking deep breaths as tears filled my eyes.

Oh, to have a night without dreams.

I curled onto my side. Tears wet my pillow. Sometimes, I felt Jack Diamond made good on his promise to make my life hell just by being in my nightmares.

I never returned to sleep. While I drank my bitter morning tea, I took the invitations and notes from Morton and compared them to the false note sent to me on Madame Biltcliffe’s stationery. The writing didn’t match.

I felt glad the writing didn’t match. But I couldn’t deduce who wrote that first note. Frank Pagliacci was a prime suspect, or perhaps some female associate with a good eye for copying.

I realized I should have investigated the false note and the break-in at Madame Biltcliffe’s shop before doing anything else. If I had done that, I might have discovered Frank Pagliacci’s identity sooner. Perhaps Herbert and Stephen’s deaths could have been avoided. Now it was too late.

Morton wasn’t Frank Pagliacci. But it didn’t mean he held honorable intentions towards me. What if Morton was an accomplice, pretending to help me in order to bring me to Frank, Jack, or both?

What if I was caught?

I pictured Jack in my dream, with a knife, ready to do his worst. Or perhaps Roy, if I survived. Roy would be furious; a slap would be just the beginning. I could say Morton kidnapped me, or lured me there on false pretenses.

No, I decided, I wouldn’t let it go that far. I had no wish to be tortured by either of them. I would have my six-shooter with me, and keep the last bullet safe.

Jack Diamond would not capture me alive.

* * *

After the morning meeting, Tony went to his appointment. I asked Amelia to choose a luncheon dress for the Spadros Women’s Club, suitable for boating on Mrs. Hart’s yacht.

“I have just the thing!” Amelia chose a blue wool crape dress with dark blue buttons.

While she tightened my corset and got me into my dress, I thought about many things:

Why did Frank Pagliacci want us to know he held David?

My only answer was the child was bait for a trap.

I didn’t like this idea much, but I could find no other reason to do what Frank Pagliacci was doing. This was why I told Crab to pretend we cared nothing for him. This would force Pagliacci to …

Oh, no. What if he killed the boy?

“Are you well, mum?” Amelia said.

“Yes, I’m quite well.” Morton and I would arrive before Crab talked to him. David would be safe, assuming he was still alive.

“Your package from Madame Biltcliffe is on the dresser.”

“Would you wrap it as a gift, please, Amelia?” David had to be alive. I couldn’t let myself think he was dead. Someone would have found his body by now had Pagliacci killed and dumped the boy, as he did with his other victims. It was a thin hope, but all I had to go on.

The idea that Frank Pagliacci did this to distract me rather than (or in addition to) Tony still lingered. I had no evidence for this, nor could I deduce why the idea stayed with me. But when an idea stayed with me, I never ignored it.

It suggested Pagliacci already knew or knew of us.

Between Tony and I, enough people disliked us to fill a ballroom. But someone who hated us enough to beat Tony, to kidnap and murder children, just to distract us? From what?

I shook my head, puzzled.

“You’re worrying on something, mum, I can tell,” Amelia said. “Anything I can help with?”

I laughed. “I’ll let you know if I think of something.”

I thought of the Red Dog cards, and of what I told Tony, that perhaps these actions were to test us.

Bait for a trap. Distraction from something else. Tests. “I have a puzzle but not all the pieces.”

In the end, though, did the answer really matter? Right now, all I cared about was finding Air’s little brother and bringing him home safe.

“Well, mum, my little ones always lose some of the pieces in their puzzles. If you know the picture, it makes it go faster.”

That made me stop. What was it I thought of earlier, when I spoke with Tony? A prelude to something else. But what?

“Sit down, mum, and I’ll get your boots on you,” Amelia said.

The bell rang downstairs, and Pearson answered it. Soon Pearson’s heavy tread came to the door; he knocked as Amelia finished tying my boots.

“Come in,” I said.

“Master Jonathan Diamond calling,” Pearson said.

“Wonderful! I don’t need to leave for a while yet.”

“Very good, mum, I’ll seat him in the parlor.”

“Pearson, let Dr. Salmon know we have a visitor. I don’t want Duck and Crab howling with a guest here.” I picked up my letter to Madame Biltcliffe and handed it to him. “Would you post this for me?”

“Certainly, mum.”

Jonathan looked much better today, and walked without his cane. “How beautiful you look! Do you have time to see me?”

I smiled. “For you, always. Would you like some tea?”

He smiled. “I would.”

I rang for a maid. We sat across a small table, facing each other as she brought us our tea.

Jonathan wore a dark brown corduroy suit with brass buttons. How many thousands of men wore brown today?

When the maid left, I said, “How can I help you?”

“I wished to see how you fared. I’m afraid I wasn’t very good company last time.”

The room was warm and comfortable. The sun peeked through the clouds, shining bright in my face. I felt an enormous temptation to stay here, spend the day with Jonathan, and forget David altogether. “I’m so glad you came by. I could use some counsel.”

Why did I bring this up? I instantly regretted it. But I suppose I needed reassurance that I wasn’t insane, risking my life for a boy I didn’t know.

Jonathan nodded, more at ease. “I would be glad to help.”

What could I say now? “I have a … hmm, how to say it …”

“Simply say it.”

The sun went behind the clouds. I gazed into Jonathan’s eyes and felt foolish, even flustered. I never felt this way around him before. “Suppose … there were a task … you felt was right and honorable, that would help someone, but it put you at some risk.”

My hands lay on the table, and he leaned forward, placing his hands on mine. “And you couldn’t pay someone to do this?”

I shook my head, glancing away. “No, I’m the only one with enough knowledge of the situation to do a proper job.”

He shrugged, and leaned back in his chair. “The answer seems obvious, unless there is some aspect you haven’t told me.”

I laughed. Of course there was, but I couldn’t say that. Even so, I felt relieved, as irrational as it might seem. “You have helped me immeasurably.”

“Well, I’m glad I could be of help, although I don’t feel as if I’ve done anything.” He almost sounded annoyed.

I had the sudden feeling he wanted to tell me something, but could not. “Jon, what’s wrong? I’m glad to see you, but why are you here?”

Jonathan gave me a level look. “I thought you might need actual assistance.”

“In what way?” I felt baffled.

“There have been odd rumors of late,” he paused. “Screams coming from Spadros Manor.” He reached across the table and touched my face. “You have covered it, but your face was bruised the last time my sister and I visited.” He took a deep breath. “Is your husband treating you well?”

I stared at him, astonished. “Is that what you think?” A laugh burst from me. “No … no. Quite the contrary. Tony has been wonderful. We have visitors … one has fallen quite ill and is beside himself. He is finally sleeping.”

“This explains the doctors.” Jonathan shook his head, resting his arms on the table. “I’m sorry; it’s just that …”

“I know. Tony is Roy’s son, but he is certainly not Roy.” I patted his hand and placed it on my unbruised cheek, feeling a surge of fondness for him. “Never fear; if that ever happened, I would tell you.”

Relief crossed Jonathan’s face. “I am truly grateful.”

The sun came out again, and Jon’s face fell into shadow. I closed my eyes, enjoying the warm sun on my face. For a moment, I had another temptation: to tell Jonathan everything, to ask for his aid in entering the Diamond quadrant and wresting the boy away from his brother.

But how could I use him to defy his nature, as I had tried to do with Vig? Jonathan loved his brother Jack, in spite of Jack’s madness, and would defend him. Jon might not believe my story. He would want me to wait while he investigated it, allowing Frank Pagliacci to harm or even murder the child. I might lose my dearest friend over this, and for what?

As I told Jon, this was my task, and I would do it.

A knock at the door; I became aware of how this might appear. I leaned back, taking my teacup in hand, and Jonathan let his hand fall to the table. “Come in.”

Pearson entered. “Your carriage is ready, mum.”

I heard Jon blowing his nose behind me.

“Thank you, Pearson.” I turned to Jonathan, who faced the window. “I must be off. Walk with me?”

He smiled, but his eyes were red. “With pleasure.”

“Are you well, Jon?”

He folded his handkerchief in his pocket, clearing his throat. “Of course, my love. Nothing to fear. A bit of dust, perhaps.”

I took Jonathan’s arm as he escorted me to my carriage. Before I climbed in, Pearson handed me the gift-wrapped maid’s corset, then returned to the house.

After I sat inside the carriage and the door closed, Jonathan said, “Do your right and honorable deed, if you must, but take care. I would have nothing harm you.”

It was such an echo of my words to Tony the night he went looking for the kidnapper, hurt as he was, that I felt touched. “I am going to luncheon.” I snapped open my fan and fanned myself. “I should manage not to harm myself too badly there.” I grinned at him.

He laughed, slapping the carriage to signal the driver.

I waved as we drove away, then turned to wipe my eyes. I had never lied to Jonathan before, ever.

How I wished I could tell him the truth! But he would never allow it, and would surely have me followed if I persisted, or worse, follow himself. I could never forgive myself if harm came to him on my account.

I leaned back into the carriage cushions and closed my eyes. Today, I thought, this would be over, one way or another.

I was a fool.