Red Dog Conspiracy: A Noir Future Steampunk Crime Family Saga

When we returned to Spadros Manor, several of Tony’s men waited on the steps, porch, and walkway. They straightened, focusing on us when we arrived. After we alighted from the carriage, Sawbuck spoke to Tony privately.

I did see some of Molly Spadros in Sawbuck, perhaps around the eyes.

Tony turned to me. “I’ll tend to this and meet you inside, in perhaps an hour.”

So I went to my study, read my mail — well wishes for the holiday — and after, I practiced my piano.

Roy and Molly Spadros gave us the grand piano on our wedding day. I was not good at playing, nor did I particularly like to. But apparently it would be a slight on the Family honor for Mrs. Jacqueline Spadros to be asked to perform yet unable. No one had ever asked me to play, so I wasn’t sure how this all mattered so. But I practiced anyway. I did seem to be making progress, considering five years before I had never seen a piano.

While I played, I considered how my relationship with Tony had changed these past ten years.

Once Roy Spadros moved my father from the Pot to the slums, my life changed forever. I didn’t go anywhere. But no matter how much I hid, a different set of men grabbed me at random times, dragging me to Spadros Manor as I screamed in terror.

Different scullery maids stripped, bathed, and dressed me each time. Then they locked me in a room with Tony as I wept in humiliation or raged at having to endure this strange, quiet boy. There we sat until time for whatever torment, lesson, or amusement Roy planned for us.

Over the years, we went (on my part) from sullen resignation to our state of marriage.

I was not unhappy. I just … existed. I realized I was no longer sullen: I had simply become resigned.

The thought made me sad.

Tea-time came and went. After tea, I dozed for a while on the sofa in my study, waking in darkness, disoriented and weary. The light from the street-lamp created a golden stripe on the far wall. Where was Tony?

I lit the lamp on the table and picked up the basket of items Amelia found in my pocket after the Grand Ball. An envelope from Jonathan with three pressed daffodils inside: “the sun shines when I'm with you.” That made me smile.

A few calling cards, with invitations to visit written on the back. Then a blank card. I turned it over: a stamp of a red dog, the same dog as on the wall outside David’s home.

For heavens’ sakes. That man of Tony’s was quick, to have obtained a card before we even left the Ball. Perhaps one of the Associates thought to keep a card to show us. I felt pleased Tony had such intelligent men on his staff.

I put Jonathan’s flowers on my desk and the stamped card in my drawer, meaning to give it to Tony when he got home.

A knock on the door. “Time to dress for dinner, mum.”

Upstairs, Amelia helped me into my red crushed taffeta dress, which Tony liked very much but I hadn't worn for a while.

We did this every night, even though we had no guests. Roy and Molly insisted on it for so many years it became a habit. They reasoned if we acted as if we had guests, when they did arrive our actions would appear natural from constant use.

I was putting on my jewels when the front door closed downstairs. Where could they have been?

Voices argued as Amelia laced my dinner shoes. I stood and examined myself one last time, then went into the hall.

“I must insist, sir,” Pearson said. “I can have the doctor summoned at once.”

The doctor? I crossed to the staircase.

Tony was being supported by two of his men. Their clothing was dirty, disheveled, and spattered with blood. Sawbuck entered last, facing outside, holstering his revolver once he shut the door.

I descended the stairs. “Whatever has happened?” I grasped Tony’s hand, which felt clammy. “Help him to a chair, and bring an ottoman for his feet.” His men did so. “Amelia, bring a basin of water and a cloth. Pearson, summon the doctor.”

We had stolen a new mechanism from the Clubbs, the Telephonic Telegraph. This machine transmitted sound through wires using electricity, so you could talk to others located far away. It was a marvelous creation; I couldn’t believe the Clubbs had hoarded such a thing.

Though Roy scoffed at the device, Tony saw the value of it at once. It took months of installing wire under the cobblestones to our private surgeon Dr. Salmon’s office. Now we could summon the doctor at once instead of waiting for a messenger boy.

We had finished the project just in time. The men were dirty and sweaty, but Tony was pale, his breath coming in short gasps.

“Where are you injured?” I turned to the men. “Was he shot?”

“No, mum.” Pain crossed Sawbuck’s face, and I imagined his distress. “But it was an ambush: they carried lead pipes, and he took a solid blow to the ribs.”

I said to Sawbuck, “How did you come to be in an ambush?” I spoke to all the men. “Bring chairs and tell me the whole tale.”

Tony’s men turned towards him, and he nodded. They drew up chairs and sat.

“When you arrived,” Sawbuck said, “we gave Mr. Spadros word of a Party Time shipment hijacked. He insisted on seeing the scene of the incident and the route taken.

“We went to the scene and tended to the injured men and horses. When we returned to the warehouse, the four guards scheduled to be on duty were missing. It was most suspicious.

“When we entered the building, six men ambushed us. We shot three and the rest fled. They focused the attack on Mr. Spadros in particular.”

I witnessed worse beatings as a child. “Anyone else injured?”

“A few were,” Sawbuck said, “but they were taken home to their families. The guards are still missing.”

“See … that the doctor … visits the injured,” Tony gasped, “at my expense. And not a word to my father.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll tell the men and their families again, in the strongest terms.” Sawbuck glanced at me, concern in his face.

“Don’t speak,” I told Tony, “until the doctor has seen to you.”

Tony closed his eyes, grimacing with each breath. I washed his face, loosened his cravat, undid his collar, and combed his hair.

Dr. Salmon arrived and pronounced Tony’s rib broken. Tony’s men carried him upstairs, then the doctor bathed his right side, which was badly bruised, and strapped his ribs. This seemed to ease the pain. The doctor dosed Tony and left a tincture of opium. “Keep him quiet for as long as possible. The less he moves around, the faster it will heal.”

“Doctor, my husband would like his father not to know of this. What shall we say?”

Dr. Salmon thought a moment. “Your husband has had an attack of pleurisy. He will be ill for at least two weeks.”

I handed him a silver dollar. “Thank you for your services.”

Every time I touched a dollar, it reminded me of how I got here. When I was twelve, a Party Time addict named Peedro Sluff said if I washed my face, brushed my hair, and was at the corner of Shill and Snow by ten, I’d get a dollar.

Before this, I’d never seen a dollar; it was more money than anyone I knew had. So I said okay. Air tried to keep me from going there, truly he did. I should have listened.

When I stepped into the hall, Sawbuck said, “How is he?”

“He will be well. Tell anyone who asks that he has pleurisy.”

Sawbuck gave a small smile. “I will. Thank you, mum.”

After the men left, I checked on Tony, who slept, then washed my face and returned to my cold meal. “Pearson, please fetch Michaels and Amelia.”

“They're at dinner, mum.”

“Have them bring their dinners and sit here. I need your help. I don’t want to upset the others by going downstairs.”

The three came up, carrying their meals and drink, and after some hesitation, joined me at the table. Jacob Michaels was young, thin, and had dark hair. Tonight he looked nervous, but he sat, as did Amelia. Amelia’s eyes and nose were red, her face fearful.

“Pearson, please sit, it is fatiguing to look up at you so.” I smiled to soften my words.

“If you insist, mum.”

I took a deep breath, and let it out. “If anyone asks, Mr. Spadros is stricken with pleurisy —”

Pearson raised an eyebrow. “Pleurisy?”

“Yes. Mr. Spadros does not wish his father to know of tonight’s dealings until we have some idea as to who the perpetrators were.”

“But,” Amelia said, “the men …”

“Sawbuck will see to the men and their families. Pearson, please see to the staff. I would hate to have any further losses due to this.”

Pearson said, “You will have no troubles on that account.”

I smiled, relieved. “I knew I could depend on you. In any case, Mr. Spadros may be unwell for several weeks. If anyone asks about injured men, they were …”

“Dueling?” Michaels said.

“Brawling,” Pearson said. “As rough men will.”

“Brawling! Very good. The doctor says Mr. Spadros should keep as quiet as he can. So he'll need assistance and to have meals brought to him. I think we'll need to not be at home to callers for at least the next week, but we can see how he fares.”

“That does sound wise, mum,” Pearson said. “I’ll notify the bridge guards.”

“Thank you.” I took a bite of cold chicken, feeling exhausted. “Michaels, please set up a bell for his room.”

“At once, mum,” Michaels said.

“Please do so quietly.”

Michaels smiled, his face regaining some of its color. “All that is needed is to let down the pull cord and place it within his reach; it's been there all along.”

Ah. I had no idea of the mechanisms behind a Manor house bell system, even after all these years, only that they connected to the levers in the staff room. Were the cords threaded through the walls somehow?

“Thank you, Michaels. Please, eat. I'm not in the mood to sit alone after such a day.”

Amelia had been studying me. “So your visit with the Kerrs was acceptable?”

I'd almost forgotten it, with all the trouble. But the way she spoke made me think she was more perceptive than I thought.

“Perfectly. But … it was like returning home after being gone for many years. Things change.”

All three nodded, their focus going inward. I felt pleased with myself; my statement would divert her questions for some time.