The Missing Partner (The Adventures of Xavier & Vic Book 2) Page 12

  He rubbed his giant, bumpy-log arms. “I might be.”

  Vic smiled. “Oh, there is probably someone, somewhere, who is physically stronger than you, but I was talking about mentally.”

  Frowning, he asked, “How so?”

  “If I were in your place, I would have snapped Jonston’s neck a hundred times in the last hour.”

  “You really shouldn’t say that out loud.” He rubbed his baldhead. “I don’t need the trouble.”

  “Then we’ll talk in code. We’ll call Jonston a bird, and tying a string about its foot means to wring its damn neck.”

  Mr. Tubs hoofed again and displayed his frightening grimace. “That is one stupid bird to bring a clever snake right into its nest.”

  Vic wasn’t keen about being designated a snake. “The snake isn’t particularly troublesome to anything other than annoying birds.”

  He raised a scraggly brow at her. “I can read. I know what hole we pulled the snake from and I know all about that hole. This little snake is as deadly as they come.”

  “You should not judge a snake by the reputation of his hole,” Vic scolded, hurt by his declaration. “This is a good snake who helps farmers get rid of pests.”

  He hoofed. “Ask the rats what they think about that.”

  “But you aren’t a rat, Mr. Tubs. You have too much inner-strength for a rat.”

  When his gruesome black smile appeared, Vic knew she’d earned points with her comment.

  “So what am I?” he asked.

  Vic didn’t think he’d like to be a cat, so she searched further in the animal kingdom for her answer. She smiled when the answer came to her. “You are an elephant.”

  His forehead wrinkled. “Don’t think I know that animal.”

  “If you had ever seen one, you’d remember.” She waxed lovingly about the elephant’s massive size and strength, able to pull full-grown trees down with its trunk. However, Mr. Tubs couldn’t grasp the proper image of this powerful trunk.

  “If you can find me paper and pen, I can draw it for you.”

  “Can’t leave the room.”

  “Do you have anything that will mark wood?”

  Mr. Tubs hoofed. “My knife, but I ain’t giving that to you.”

  “Well, normally I would agree giving the prisoner a knife would be poor judgment. However, in this case, I think it is safe enough. First of all, you only need to release one hand for me to draw, so I’ll still be safely tied up. And secondly, you are so fast and strong, knife or no knife, you’d have no trouble subduing me. And thirdly, I like you and would never purposely get you in trouble.” She stopped and smiled up at him. “That probably doesn’t seem like a valid point to you, but it’s a key factor to me.”

  “I’m not giving you my knife,” Mr. Tubs growled and scratched his hairy arms.

  “Well, then let me try and describe an elephant. Close your eyes and—”

  “I’m not closing my eyes.” His voice rumbled a bit heavier this time.

  “I just find it easier to picture with my eyes closed. Let’s try this: imagine a big tree trunk, as wide as your shoulders, that narrows so quickly that at six feet high it’s only about the width of an orange. Now turn that picture on its side and make the trunk flexible like a snake.”

  Mr. Tub slammed his hand down on the table. “You’re making this up.”

  “I swear to God I’m not. If you don’t believe me, then go to the zoo on the northern end of Regent’s park. They have some young elephants. Better yet, go to the Natural History Museum. They have artist drawings that show a man standing beside an adult elephant, standing beside a mammoth.”

  Mr. Tubs’ forehead wrinkled. “I know I’ll regret asking, but what’s a mammoth?”

  “It looks like the elephant, only much bigger and very hairy.”

  He glanced at his arms. “Then why ain’t I a mammoth?”

  “Because you are very much alive and mammoths died out long ago.”

  Mr. Tubs studied Vic. “Thank you for not making me a dead animal. You’re a good snake, and I’m sorry you’re here. Nothing but bad can come of it.”

  Gunshots exploded from the floors below followed by screams and sounds of panic. Mr. Tubs rose to his feet.

  Vic knew the cavalry had come. “If you know a safe way out of here, Mr. Tubs, you should go. That’s the army arriving. I really don’t want my elephant to come to harm.”

  His frown deepened.

  “But before you go, could you tell me where the other guest room is?”

  His eyes rounded. “You tricked Jonston into napping you, you sneaky little snake!”

  “I’m just trying to kill rats. I don’t want elephants to die.”

  His anger dissipated. “The entrance is in the last room on the left, through the closet.” He then opened the closet to her room and looked at her. “You’re gonna be right?”

  She nodded.

  He slipped inside the closet and closed the door.

  A second later, the door to her room burst open and two angry soldiers aimed their guns at her. Determining her bound, one moved to the closet door and verified it was empty. As he stepped back from the closet Vic spoke up. “I need to see Inspector Stone at once. I know where the package is hidden.”

  The soldiers didn’t respond and but one left the room. The one remaining stood in the corner behind the door and held his gun ready as he studied all the walls and ceiling for possible attacks.

  Certain Mr. Tubs had escaped by now, she nodded towards the closet. “I’d keep my eye on the closet. It has a secret door to somewhere.”

  The soldier’s eyes checked everywhere except the closet. Vic thought his lack of trust insulting. “Do I look like the enemy, immobilized here on the floor?” she yelled in outrage.

  Before the soldier could respond, the door opened and several soldiers entered with Inspector Stone in their midst.

  “Actually, you look like a damn fool who cannot keep his word,” Stone snapped as he asked a soldier for his knife.

  Vic took umbrage at his scolding. “I didn’t voluntarily come here! Jonston abducted me from my office.” Growing impatient with the slow speed of his slicing, she wiggled in impatience.

  “Be still, damn it!” Stone yelled.

  Once he freed Vic’s legs and arms, she stood up and shook herself off. She noticed a soldier studying the closet with mistrust. “There’s a secret compartment through that closet.”

  In response, the trigger-happy soldiers fired over twenty bullets into the closed door. Another soldier shuffled her and Stone from the room. When Stone tried to lead her downstairs, she pulled away. “Have you found Xavier yet?”

  “He’s not here,” Stone replied.

  “Oh, yes he is!” she insisted and stormed down the narrow passage to the last door on the left. Entering the room, she approached the closet, but Stone stopped her and nodded for a soldier to take lead.

  Vic reached out and caught the man’s arm. “Do not shoot first!”

  Stone reconfirmed her order, and removed her grip on the soldier’s arm. The soldier couldn’t find the door. Then Stone searched.

  “There’s no door in this closet, Victor. He’s not here.”

  “Let me in there. I’ll find it.” Vic pushed her way in and grew worried as she could not find any sign of a door or a mechanism to trigger a door to open. Frustrated beyond endurance, she kicked the wall so hard her foot went through the plaster into open space. Stone helped her pull her foot out and then stared through the opening she had made. He pulled her out of the closet and ordered the soldier to knock out through to the hidden room.

  The man roared like an angry bull and smashed his body against the wall. When the dust settled, he stood inside a hidden room, circling around looking for something to shoot.

  “Empty,” the soldier declared.

  “It can’t be!” Vic insisted and pushed inside. She could smell the scent of her dirty beggar man. The same scent she had gone to sleep smelling last night when she
lay on his pillow.

  “He was here!” she insisted and checked the bed. “Check for a secret passage out of this room. They must have moved him.”

  This time, the soldier obeyed her order and kicked through the walls. Stone left the room and returned soon after with soldiers bearing sledgehammers. Blood stained the bed. Moving closer, she smelled the putrid odor of infection. Anger, fear and depression overwhelmed her and she collapsed to the floor.

  Stone knelt down beside her. “Victor, we’ll find him.”

  “We’d better do it soon. He’s been shot and his wound is severely infected.”

  Stone ordered the soldiers to knock through every wall of the building. Then he slipped his arm around Victor and assisted her downstairs.

  On the first floor, Jacko approached looking confused, and then angry at her presence.

  “He’s no longer here,” Stone said.

  Jacko refocused on the inspector. “Are you absolutely sure?”

  Stone nodded. “Vic found his room, but they’ve moved him. However, to be certain, they didn’t just move him to a different secret room, I’ve ordered the men to break down every wall in the building.

  Vic’s attention went to the mass of girls and boys the soldiers herded into paddy wagons. “Sara!” she cried out, seeing the girl tossed into the wagon. How had her cook’s niece gotten here?

  The girl turned upon hearing her name and tried valiantly to leap from the paddy wagon, but a soldier grabbed her by the waist and pushed her inside.

  “Inspector Stone, you have to help Sara!” Vic dragged him by the arm to the wagon. “She’s my cook’s niece. I have to take her home with me.”

  Stone ordered the man to release the one called Sara. Half the ladies declared their name was Sara.

  In no mood for their nonsense, Vic stormed into the wagon and retrieved the proper one.

  While Sara clung to her in weeping gratitude, Vic thanked the inspector but followed her appreciation with a protest. “Why are you arresting these girls? They are victims.”

  “We are not arresting them. We are taking them in for questioning.”

  Alarm swept through Vic. “Inspector Stone! These people have endured enough torture to last a lifetime. They do not deserve an interrogation.”

  Stone sighed and rubbed his temples. “Well, evidently they do. Not one of them will admit to the name of Laura.”

  Vic spotted the young servant in question cringing behind another girl, her eyes pleading for silence. Vic spoke loudly. “Did you tell Laura that the soldiers had come to rescue her? Does she know you are the answer to her prayers?”

  Stone closed his eyes as if doing a bit of praying for patience before replying. “No, I just asked Laura to step forward.”

  Vic reached out her hand to the girl. “God has answered your prayers, Laura.”

  Seconds later, Vic had two clinging young women holding on to her. She looked at the remaining frightened servants. As if he could read her mind, Stone sighed. “They will not undergo interrogation. However, we do need their statements, and since most have no homes, we need to get it now before they disappear onto the streets.”

  Vic called for everyone’s attention and explained why there were going to Scotland Yard. “They are not arresting you. They understand you are victims, not criminals. They just need your statement. Once you have given your testimony, for those of you who wish honest work in a proper household, come to the office of Xavier Thorn Private Inquiries two blocks north of Scotland Yard. I will assist you in finding real jobs. Any of you who are prone to thievery and dishonesty, do not stop by my office, because if you steal from the nice people who take you in, I will track you down and see you imprisoned.” Seeing their horrified expressions, Vic regretted her outburst. “Life has been hell for you, I know that. But if you truly want a change for the better, then come to my office after giving your statement to Scotland Yard.”

  Laura raised her head from Victor’s soggy shirt and looked at Inspector Stone. “I’m sorry I did not step forward. I was afraid.”

  “I am just glad we found you. Sister Theresa and Mother Ignacio would not have forgiven me had I failed in our rescue. They went directly to the Queen and requested her help.”

  Laura held her hands to her face. “I cannot believe I am so blessed. God is indeed bountiful.”

  Stone gently eased her from Vic and looked kindly at the girl. “I will personally take your statement, and then there are some very special people who wish to meet you?”

  Fear returned to Laura’s face.

  “I believe he means the Queen,” Vic whispered in her ear. Shock replaced the girl’s fear, and wonderment soon followed.

  Vic started to lead Sara away, but Stone stopped her. “I still need the girl’s statement.”

  “Her aunt will bring her by tomorrow afternoon.” Having secured Sara, Vic’s mind turned to the other girls and boys at Robinson’s house. “Inspector, is there no way you can rescue the servants at Robinson’s while you have use of so many paddy wagons?”

  Stone chuckled. “The Queen suggested the same thing. I sent policemen over to gather them up a half hour ago. They should be at the station now.”

  “Will you let them know my offer of honest work?”

  Before Stone could answer, and by the pained expression, it didn’t look to be a positive response, another maid named Lil pushed her way out of the group of girls. “I’ll tell them, Mr. Hamilton.”

  Vic smiled at her. “Thanks, Lil. I hope you plan to come.”

  Lil nodded. “I’ll be the first at your door.”

  ***

  Three-thirty in the morning, Vic quietly unlocked and eased open the door of her family house. She waved Sara inside and ever so gently closed it.

  “Vic,” the girl whispered.

  Turning to remind her they needed complete silence, Vic’s voice faltered by the angry visage of Gregory looming before them like a very tall specter of death.

  Vic swallowed hard and stiffened her spine. “I know you are a bit angry at my behavior earlier today…or rather yesterday. However, right now, I think it prudent to set aside such silly matters and wake Mrs. Yarrows. I have rescued her niece, Sara.”

  Gregory turned his gaze on Sara. He made an imposing figure glaring out of the darkness, slightly silhouetted from behind. Evidently, too imposing for the girl—she ducked behind Vic.

  “It’s all right, Sara. Gregory isn’t mad at you. And I’m certain he has no idea how frightening he looks just now. Mrs. Yarrows is an excellent cook and he would never purposely terrify her niece.”

  “Mrs. Yarrows’ niece is dead.” Gregory’s angry low voice sounded rather like an angel of death.

  “Evidence stands to the contrary,” Vic replied with tartness. When Gregory continued to block their passage to the servants’ hall, Vic decided to call in re-enforcement. “Mrs. Yarrows, come out here. We need you immediately!”

  “If she quits over this prank, Victor, you will eat nothing but oatmeal and pig’s feet.”

  Her two most despised foods. Gregory certainly knew how to threaten a person. “I am willing to accept that challenge. However, you must eat crow when she thanks me for finding her niece.”

  Before he could reply, if he even intended to reply, Mrs. Yarrows hurried into the passageway. “Do you need something, Victor? Are you hungry? You didn’t come home for dinner. I made your favorite pudding…”

  Mrs. Yarrows stopped talking as she noticed the girl who peeked around and then stepped out from behind Vic. Gregory had finally given up his looming pose and turned to doing something useful, lighting the lamps.

  “Sara?” Mrs. Yarrows’ voice quavered with uncertainty and fear, probably fearing the girl was a ghost.

  “It’s me, Aunt Mime.” Sara took a few steps forward and then lost her courage. Fortunately, Mrs. Yarrows made up the distance. She had her niece in her arms in seconds.

  “I can’t believe it. I thought you were dead! Where have you been? Is your mother
alive, as well?”

  Vic didn’t think this was a conversation for standing in the alcove. “Perhaps we should go to the kitchen. I’ll put on water for tea, while Sara tells you her story.” Vic’s stomach rumbled. “You mentioned something about pudding.”

  Mrs. Yarrows pulled Vic close and kissed her cheek. “There are plenty of leftovers in the icebox, in fact, a whole meal.”

  Vic realized with Claire gone, Mrs. Yarrows had prepared dinner solely for her. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you know I wouldn’t be home for dinner. It’s been a rather long and hectic day.”

  “No worries,” Mrs. Yarrows said. “I prepared all your favorite dishes. All I have to do is heat them up.”

  “The pudding will do. And Gregory would like a dish of baked crow.”

  She laughed as she glanced at Gregory to catch his response. His glare was sufficient to douse her humor. “Or not…Never mind the food. You should listen to Sara’s story first.”

  ***

  Victor and Sara sat at the table, Gregory loomed in the corner, and Mrs. Yarrows fed the wood stove while asking her first question. “Is Theresa alive?”

  Sara sighed heavily. “No, she died in the fire. We both made it out, then Mother heard our neighbor Mrs. Simpson crying for help and she ran back inside. I wanted to go in, but I was afraid. The flames were soaring out of the windows in the floors above.”

  Gregory took over working the stove and sent the cook to the table.

  Mrs. Yarrows pulled her niece into her arms. Her embrace caused Sara to burst into heaving sobs. “I should have gone in to help her!”

  Sara’s aunt gently rocked her niece and held her tight. “No, sweetheart.”

  “That’s why God punished me! I should have gone with her, but I didn’t.”

  Sara’s words confused her. She looked to Vic for the answer.

  Vic knew the truth would break Mrs. Yarrows’ heart, but if Sara didn’t tell her now, she feared the guilt would consume the poor girl’s life.

  “A man kidnapped Sara while everyone watched the fire. He sold her as a servant to a house on Talbot Street.”

  “Sold her? What do you mean sold her?”