She had my full attention now, but she wouldn’t let me touch the book.
“Missy Goodfellow’s assistant already bought the original ledger,” I said.
“My brother kept two sets of books, one for show and one with the real information. Standard shady business practice. I have every reason to believe that this is the accurate record.”
I wasn’t surprised. In fact, after working for the Smile Syndicate, Angela Drake should have known that questionable businesses kept two sets of books.
“I believe the bid was for a thousand dollars, Mr. Chambeaux?” Alice said, her eyes twinkling.
I felt a heaviness in my chest.
“That was never a serious bid, Alice. I was just provoking Angela into raising her price. I can go back to the”—I swallowed hard—“seven fifty that I offered, since I no longer have exclusive access to the information.”
“Seven fifty was not the final bid, Mr. Chambeaux.”
Sheyenne interrupted. “Mr. Chambeaux already made you hundreds more by bidding against Angela Drake. He inflated the price you received, and this money is just gravy. Five hundred is all we’re willing to pay. Since the auction, we’ve made great progress in solving these pending cases, and any information in the ledger is no longer as relevant as it was. In fact, in another few days we’re likely to solve the cases, and then we won’t need the ledger at all.”
“But this book contains the correct and accurate information!” Alice insisted, sounding flustered at Sheyenne’s tough negotiation.
“Moving on,” Sheyenne said sweetly. “Do you want the five hundred or not?”
I definitely wanted to see the information there, but I tried not to show my excitement. Sheyenne, fortunately, was a better and tougher haggler.
“Very well,” Alice said. “That amount will allow me to upgrade my cabin on the cruise.”
“I’ll write you a check,” Sheyenne said.
After the gremlin sister headed off to the Trove National Bank to cash the check, I picked up the black ledger and let out a long sigh. I said, with all the sincerity I possessed, “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Spooky.”
She took the ledger book out of my hands. “I’ll go over this and analyze the information. I’m good at details like that.” She looked at me with her spectral blue eyes. “And you just keep thinking about how much you need me.”
Chapter 38
When Mavis Wannovich called, Sheyenne acted as the moat dragon. She covered the phone with her insubstantial hand, which I wasn’t sure would muffle the sound. “Beaux, Mavis wants to come into the offices and talk with you in person. She sounds insistent.”
Just then, Francine burst through the door, grinning and frenetic with energy, puffing a long cigarette. “Wait until you hear what just happened!” She took a quick drag. “I got my job back! Stu said I could be his bartender again! He even brought me flowers, a box of chocolates, and a carton of my favorite cigarettes.”
I said to Sheyenne, “Please tell Mavis I’ve got another client right now, but I’ll be in touch—honest.” Mavis was probably getting anxious for her vampire ghostwriter to get started on the Shamble & Die Penny Dreadful detective novel. “I promise she can have all the time she needs, but it’ll be a few days.”
As Francine danced with far more exhilaration than I had ever seen her show, Robin cautioned, “I hope you didn’t agree to anything in writing. The Smile Syndicate is trying to butter you up so that you’ll drop the charges.”
Francine was not allowing any rain on her parade. “Stu did butter me up. That’s all I wanted—to be appreciated.”
“Your customers appreciated you, Francine,” I said. “You’re the best bartender we ever had.”
She reached out to pat my cold hand. “I know you appreciated me, dear. That show of support was the most touching thing I ever experienced—but it didn’t make me vindictive against the Goblin Tavern, just made me want my job back even more.”
Robin was feisty, crossing her arms over her chest. “Not good enough. We can still go after them for punitive damages. The Smile Syndicate caused you emotional distress, and there’s the few days of lost wages. And tips! Discrimination against humans by humans is just as bad as people who are prejudiced against unnaturals. We can set a precedent.”
Francine finished her cigarette with a long drag. “Thank you for everything you’ve done, Ms. Deyer. Your passion makes me short of breath!” She coughed twice and looked around for an ashtray. “But I’ve got what I want, I really do. Stu offered me a raise, covered my back wages, called the whole misunderstanding a ‘paid leave of absence.’ I’ll be back behind the bar tonight. He does want me to wear a new outfit, a black dress and a cobwebby hat, so I fit in better. He’s trying for some sort of Elvira look. Maybe the customers will believe I’m a zombie after all.”
“But we can fight this further!” Robin said.
Francine continued to look uncomfortable, but Robin was blinded by moral outrage, so I had to intervene. “We have a satisfied client, Robin. Our efforts got Francine her job back. She doesn’t want to change the whole world. It’s okay to take the win and do a victory dance.”
Robin drew a deep breath, calmed herself. “I’m sorry, Francine. I’ve just spent the past two days reading that heinous Unnatural Acts Act, and it makes my blood boil. I’ll have plenty of fights coming up.” Her expression softened. “I’m very happy for you, Francine. Congratulations on getting your job back.”
“McGoo and I will see you tonight, Francine,” I said. “I promise.”
“The first round is on the house!”
Robin went back to her office to keep working on multiple challenges to Senator Balfour’s Act. She had been up all night reading through the mountain of obtuse legal language, writing new notes for every offensive paragraph she found. Without too much trouble, she had tracked down unnaturals willing to serve as examples of specific individuals who would be harmed by certain provisions in the Unnatural Acts Act, so that she had legal standing in her efforts. She had already filed eleven separate suits, and she’d only just finished going through the preamble.
Robin did secure an injunction that allowed the Pattersons to stay in their suburban house, pending the outcome of her challenge to the charges filed against the couple for “living together in a conjugal manner.” By extension, Robin was also demanding the right of her client Harvey Jekyll to move into the neighborhood of his choosing. Fortunately for Jekyll—in a legal sense at least—he was not involved in any sort of romantic relationship, natural or unnatural.