I am less concerned now with the remaining blocks. Instead, I focus on what we will find when we arrive back at the store and what, in truth, we will do. That the girl and I will act as a team is a given. I have come this far. The boy I still cannot count on. While he has not betrayed us yet, I cannot discount a more subtle trap.
Care must be thinking this too – the way she stops short of the alley behind the jeweler’s. I am grateful for this caution, for it frees me. Hugging the building, I make my way to the corner. The two thugs who pursued us are there. Brian, the brute, and the shorter, rat-faced one. They are waiting, clearly. The way the big one slumps against the wall, kicking at it with booted feet while his companion paces. I smell cigarettes – several – and nervous sweat. They are muscle, but they are angry and frustrated and do not like to be kept waiting. Though whether they are expecting the man we saw before or the boy who runs their errands, I do not know.
‘Care?’ My ears pick out the boy’s voice and I freeze. If he is going to urge her onward, I will act. If he raises his voice – bringing them to her – I will act. I do not yet know what I will – or can – do, but I have resources, despite my age and size.
‘What?’ She’s peeking around the corner now too. She sees what I see, if not as clearly or with the elaboration of scent.
‘Couldn’t you be wrong about him? About Diamond Jim?’ The boy’s voice has tightened. He wants things to be peaceful, to be better. He is tired; I can smell it on him. Hungry, too. ‘I mean, you say he hired the old man. Maybe he hired these guys, too. AD’s friends. You know, to finish the job. After the old man died and all.’
‘He didn’t just die.’ Care’s voice has an edge too, though it’s not simply her hunger or her fatigue I hear. ‘He was killed. Murdered, Tick. And he wasn’t just some muscle you hire, like those losers down there. He was the best there is – a real private investigator. He solved that big heist down by the train station when the cops couldn’t get anywhere. And when Jonah Silver was losing inventory and nobody could figure out how? The old man did. That’s why Diamond Jim was looking for him, why—’
She stops, catching herself. Her voice has risen with her indignation, and the men in the alley are looking up. I feel my tail rise, my fur start to inflate as the rat-faced one begins to walk toward us. I ready myself for the fight.
‘You, boy!’ What happens next happens so fast, I am not sure of the sequence. ‘It’s the boy, boss. AD’s kid.’
Tick has stepped into the alley, in full view of the men. And when Care reaches for him, I throw myself at her shins, causing her to stumble. She catches the wall – catches herself – as the man grabs at Tick, who flinches but does not run. If he sees her, if he looks around at all, he sees the fancy scarf. The pattern of tan and black and red, and by the time she rights herself he has dragged the boy halfway down the alley.
‘Tick—’ She swallows her cry, aware of the futility of the situation, and, instead, bundles me up into her arms. Together, we watch as the two men take the boy in through the back entrance of the jewelry shop and the door closes behind them.
ELEVEN
‘That was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.’ She looks at me. I do not mean my green eyes to register doubt. My eyes, like those of all cats, are naturally cool. Appraising.
‘OK, may have been. But if he was going to betray us …’ She stops talking. We both saw how quickly the boy was hustled indoors. What neither of us can tell is whether he went by prior agreement or if he sacrificed himself to save Care from discovery. Nor what his relationship to those men – so much larger than he – may have been.
I am grateful to hear Care second-guess herself, although the wrinkle in her brow reveals the pain she feels at doubting the boy. I myself have not drawn a conclusion as to what transpired. As a cat, I see subtleties. Options that the girl has not considered. The men may have simply been inept, unwilling to wait until the boy had sprung their trap and lured Care into their reach. Independent of his loyalties, they may have decided that Care is no longer necessary to their machinations. Willing or not, Tick may be the scapegoat they need, or maybe Fat Peter’s murder is no longer even a concern. Or, perhaps, the girl who stands beside me, leaning against the brick of the alley, is correct and the boy willingly gave himself up as a distraction when we were at risk of discovery.
It does not matter. The boy is gone, under circumstances that neither of us can be sure of but which may pose a danger to us. We should regroup. I look up at the girl, willing her to be sensible. To consider the environment as well as her emotions. To act, in other words, like a cat. A hunter, albeit a small one, who knows how to survive in the wild.