Harte took his bow quickly, barely hearing the applause and not bothering with his usual flourishes. His whole body jangled from the surge of adrenaline he’d felt at seeing the girl—Esta, she’d said her name was—materialize across the room. His mind was already racing with the possibilities. He had to find her. He had to know how she did it.
He pushed past Shorty, who was shouting at him to get back onstage and finish his act. He just needed to duck into his dressing room to grab his overcoat and keys, but when he pushed open the door, he found that the room was already occupied.
“John,” Harte said, covering his surprise at finding Paul Kelly’s second-in-command sitting in the chair near his dressing table. ?John Torrio was about nineteen, not much older than Harte. ?Torrio had the same swarthy skin and hard-nosed looks, but not the polish or the style of his boss, and Harte’s ex-boss, the leader of the Five Point Gang.
Pat Riley, better known in certain circles as Razor, was examining a set of handcuffs that were dangling from the mirror. Harte had been dodging Kelly and his boys for months now—ever since Dolph had told him about the Book—so having these two appear unannounced and unexpected could only mean their boss was done being patient.
He reached beyond the depths of his unease and pulled up what he hoped was an affable, confident smile. “Gentlemen, what do I owe this pleasure?”
“Kelly sent us,” ?Torrio said, straightening the sharp lapels of his suit as he spoke. “But I’m sure you know that, seeing as how you’ve been avoiding us. The boss needs your services again.”
“I’m not in the game anymore,” Harte said, keeping a wary eye on Riley. “Kelly knows that. The last time was supposed to be the last time. We had an agreement.”
Riley dropped the cuffs so they clattered onto the table and turned to look squarely at Harte. “The agreement’s changed.”
It always does, Harte thought, fighting the urge to scream in frustration.
John Torrio slouched comfortably in Harte’s dressing chair, his eyes projecting the lazy confidence of someone who had Paul Kelly’s full authority behind him. “You know Kelly’s got eyes everywhere, Darrigan. You telling me you thought you could be rubbing elbows with J. P. Morgan’s people and nobody wouldn’t notice?”
“You’re here because I had a drink with Jack Grew?” Harte asked.
“And Morgan’s son.”
“I don’t know Morgan’s son. ?And he doesn’t want to know me,” Harte said, eyeing his coat over Torrio’s shoulder. He shouldn’t have bothered to come back for it. He could have caught up with the girl and managed to miss these two.
Though, now that he stopped to think, maybe he should let her go. She was involved with Nibsy somehow, which meant she had to be tangled up with Dolph Saunders as well. The last thing Harte needed was that particular complication, especially with Kelly’s men sitting in his dressing room.
Still, that trick of materializing across the theater in a fraction of the time it would have taken anyone else to do it—the crowd had gone wild. If he could replicate it, he wouldn’t have to worry about ticket sales for a long time. Even if she was wrapped up with Nibsy Lorcan, Harte wanted to know how she’d done it. But first he had to get rid of the two men standing in his way.
“But you do know Jack?” Razor insisted.
Torrio nodded. “That’s enough for the boss.”
“Jack’s only an admirer of my work,” Harte said easily, which was true enough. “He thought I could teach him how to pull coins out of his ear. Make him as rich as his uncle.”
Torrio snorted, half-amused. “I bet he did. But like I said, your new friendship interests Mr. Kelly. Greatly.”
Harte made a show of unrolling the sleeves back down his arms, all the while keeping part of his awareness on the two men. “I meet lots of people,” he told them. “I wasn’t aware I had to check with Kelly every time I had a drink with someone.”
Razor Riley growled in answer. “Watch yourself, Darrigan. Kelly told us to talk to you. He didn’t say we had to be nice.”
Harte ignored Razor and kept his focus on Torrio. “What interest does Kelly have in Jack Grew, anyway?”
“You know the boss,” ?Torrio said with a shrug. “He’s always interested in growing his connections. Jack Grew’s pretty high up in the world.”
Harte couldn’t hide his surprise. “Jack’s a nonstarter,” he said truthfully. “From what I hear, he was this close to being shackled to some fisherman’s daughter in Greece, because all his brains are in the wrong head. The boy wouldn’t be able to tell his ass from his armpit without Daddy to help him, and the whole family knows it. Kelly wouldn’t be able to get within ten feet of him before Morgan’s people got wind of it.”
“Such little faith you have,” Torrio drawled, picking at his nails before he lifted his eyes to meet Harte’s. “You really think Mr. Kelly don’t know what he’s doing?”
“Kelly wants you to work on Grew,” Razor clarified.
“Work on him?” Harte repeated, feeling a cold twist of understanding in his gut.
“You know what he wants,” Torrio said, taking his hat from Harte’s dressing table.
It was one thing to use his affinity on shady politicians from Tammany or on the boys in the neighborhood, but tangling with the Order of Ortus Aurea? It was too risky, or Harte would have already done it. With magic, he could have wrapped Jack around his finger a lot easier. But he knew that if the Order got wind of it, they’d end him. Or worse.
“I don’t have any sway over Jack Grew,” Harte hedged.
“That ain’t the way I hear it. The way I hear it, you got the touch with difficult people.” ?Torrio’s mouth twisted into something that might have been a smirk. “Kelly wants an introduction.”
“I can’t understand why.”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but the word around town is that the Order’s having an important get-together soon. Word is that anyone of any importance in the city will be there. Kelly don’t want to be stuck in the slums forever, Darrigan. He wants an invitation to that gathering. He wants an invitation to the Order. And he’s confident you can make that happen. . . . After all, you already have an in with Jack.”
“Jack Grew and his like, they’re from a different world than us,” Harte said with a shrug. “They could barely stand to have me at their table, and—”
“I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” Torrio interrupted. He gave Harte’s cheek a not-so-gentle pat.
“If I don’t want to figure something out?” Harte asked.
“You know Kelly has ways of persuading. It would be a shame if anyone found out about any of your little secrets, now, wouldn’t it? Never know what might happen to you.”
There were any number of secrets Paul Kelly knew about Harte Darrigan, any number of things that could ruin him if his old boss decided to expose him.
“I see,” Harte said slowly.
“I thought you might,” ?Torrio said as Razor Riley sat stone-faced behind him.