He reaches for her. To claim ownership, rather than to move her, here in this room of leather furniture and big men, but she pulls her arm away in a brisk motion. Pulls herself up to stand as tall as she can. She inhales and nods at Diamond Jim. It’s a warning, one the fat jeweler doesn’t understand. He merely chuckles as she turns to address his partner.
‘Mr Bushwick.’ She starts to lick her lip – I can see her tongue dart out between the chapped lips – but she catches herself. Stops before she gives herself away. ‘I’ve been wanting to speak to you again. I know you doubted me before, when I came to visit. But now that you have Diamond Jim here, you can ask him yourself. You see, I know about the deal. About the marker, which AD here has reclaimed for you.’ She nods toward her former gang leader. I know she is wondering about Tick, wondering if he is on the premises, but she keeps her focus.
‘I know that the price of admission was the necklace.’ She stops, this time for effect. ‘But what I know, and what you don’t, is that Diamond Jim was the one who reported it stolen. He was the one who called the old man in, to make it look legit – to get his money back. He cheated you, wanting to play it both ways to get in on the deal, and then, when the old man figured it out, he had him killed. Either way, you’re both responsible for his murder, and all for some stupid necklace.’
The room is silent. The men all stare at Care, and from my vantage point, behind the edge of the sofa, I cannot tell if their faces are angry or surprised, or some combination of the two. I hear a sharp intake of breath and I prepare to leap. Humans tend to lash out when they are in a rage, and they do not always attack those who most deserve it.
What I do not expect is the hiss as AD lunges forward. This time he succeeds in grabbing Care’s arm and dragging her back toward him.
‘The necklace? Stupid girl.’ AD is spitting, he’s so angry. ‘The fee wasn’t the necklace. It never was.’
‘Shut up.’ Bushwick sits up, struggling with the soft sofa before he can stand. He turns toward AD, his voice curt and tight. ‘We got the marker. The ship’s mate has it, so we don’t need this one anymore.’
‘She’s one of mine.’ AD pulls Care closer. She stumbles against his body and looks around, confused. ‘She’s been getting above herself for a while now. Just like the old man, but I can use her.’
‘I told you we should have taken better care.’ Diamond Jim is on his feet now too, moving quickly for such a fat man. ‘They’re still unloading—’
‘Shut up!’ Bushwick’s voice ratchets up as he steps forward, one arm out as if to block the jeweler from advancing. It’s plain to see he’s scared, and, turning from him to AD, Care suddenly grows pale.
‘He wasn’t just cover. For the necklace,’ she says, her voice soft but clear enough to carry as she turns from Diamond Jim toward Bushwick. ‘You hired him – and you vouched for him. The two of you together. It was a plan … You set him up. You set him up to be killed.’ She swallows and licks her lips, no longer caring who sees the emotions plain on her face. ‘You were afraid he would interrupt this – interrupt your deal.’
The two men turn toward each other. One quick glance, but it’s enough. The girl doesn’t have it right, not quite. But AD isn’t giving her a chance to catch on. He’s dragging her toward the door.
‘Come on, darling. You’ve had enough for tonight.’
‘Wait.’ Bushwick raises his hand. ‘We can’t – don’t make it messy.’
‘I know better than to draw the heat,’ AD calls over his shoulder. He pulls his gun from under his shirttail and places it on the desk. ‘Besides, she’s still good for some coin.’
He has her arms behind her now and frogmarches her out of the office. I am torn. These men – the bond between them means something. Something that Care has missed. Something I dearly want to know. And yet … As the door swings shut, I dart through, startling the guard who has begun to close it.
‘What the—’ He kicks and misses.
His companion laughs. ‘Bad luck for you, Randy!’
It’s a bad place for me to stop, out in the open, and AD is already pulling the girl down the hall. I’ve heard this lackey speak before, never laugh, but as I whip around he falls silent, his mouth hanging open.
‘Hey, maybe it’s you he’s after.’ His companion snorts. It’s bluster, not a real laugh. His friend can’t stop staring at me. ‘The way he’s looking at you. It’s like he knows you.’
He’s right. I’m staring. That laugh. These two, here, now. I feel on the tip of a breakthrough – on the edge of making sense of all this – when a scream interrupts me. Care. In danger. I turn as the two men behind me laugh once more. The larger one has a particularly nasty chuckle, his words making the situation clear.
‘About time he broke that one in,’ he says. ‘Make her earn her keep.’
I race down the hallway to their echoing laughter, the sounds of a struggle somewhere up ahead.