Anadil is waiting for them when they get back, early the next morning. She sits on the empty bar with a bottle of whiskey and a pot of coffee, and greets them with a casual attitude that suggests she knows exactly where they've been and what they've been doing.
Agatha doesn't look at all surprised. Hester tells Anadil everything, and they all know it.
"Job well done?"
"He's dead, if that's what you mean." Hester mutters, accepting the proffered coffee. Agatha doesn't respond- she's been silent almost the whole remainder of the night, and Hester knows better than to nag at her when she's like that.
Especially with who the situation concerns.
"Coffee, boss?" offers Anadil. Agatha shakes her head vaguely.
"I'm good. I gotta-"
Something crashes backstage.
Hester's immediately tense, hand flying to her gun, but Agatha waves her off, almost absent-mindedly.
"Don't bother. It's Meredith."
"Meredith? How'd you know that?"
"Saw him goin' back in, just now, when you were checkin' the car. Saw us and scarpered."
"Where's he been, then?"
"His old man's." she answers immediately.
Hester goggles at her, somewhere between amazed and exasperated.
"How do you even know this shit-"
"Because I watch people, Hester." Snaps Agatha. "When we came back down I saw he'd changed back into normal clothes, it couldn't be anywhere else- his stage clothes are a decent disguise, so he wouldn't need to change, unless he was going to see someone who didn't know about his little side job… and his old man keeps funny hours. Probably all that Foxwood coffin varnish."
"Arthur Pendragon gets drink from Foxwood?" splutters Hester. "What's he doin' drinkin' himself unconscious? He raids speakeasies!"
"Sure he does, but he's rich, ain't he?" yawns Agatha. "Normal rules don't apply to him, because he can pay 'em off. He just won't let us have our fun. Or most of us, anyway. Foxwood won't be raided by him, that's for damned sure, not while they're puttin' all that drink in his glass. And he won't be catchin' me, I can guarantee that."
Apparently concerned that the conversation was over, she starts to head off, leaving Hester utterly exasperated behind her.
"You comin' tonight?" demands Anadil. "Dot's bringin' in the new shipment."
Agatha glances over her shoulder at them.
"Yeah, funnily enough, I already knew about that. Maybe because it's my liquor, comin' in on my orders?"
"You're such a killjoy." Anadil flings her legs onto the bar, stretching like a cat. Hester can't help but admire the way she defies the respect that Agatha usually commands. "Maybe we wanna see you, ever consider that?"
Agatha ignores her last comment.
"I'm showin'." She confirms. "But only cause I got a couple things to find out. And if the liquor ain't up to standard, someone's bein' taken for a ride, you hear?"
"Hear you loud and clear, boss." Chirps Anadil. They all know it's an empty threat; they're no gin mill, and the liquor is as good as it can be when it's made in someone's bathtub.
Agatha snorts as she disappears through the side door, leaving Hester and Anadil to stare after her.
"Sometimes, I really don't get her." Growls Hester.
"That's cause she don't want you to." Sighs Anadil. "As bleedin' evasive as you can manage to be, that woman." She pauses. "So you caught a mole at Gavaldon?"
"Yeah. Some rich kid who'd been promised a lot to do a little bit of diggin'. Offered lotsa girls, mainly. Not that he'll get 'em, now. He did a shit job, anyhow."
"Good." Says Anadil, with surprising venom. "Good. And he was…?"
"Sent by them, yeah." Says Hester heavily. Anadil frowns, toying with her coffee mug.
"They haven't done anything that direct in a good few years."
"I know. She'd sooner be plugged full of holes than admit it, but I think the boss is concerned 'bout it, especially cause it's happenin' now."
Anadil shoots her a glance.
"You think it's because of…"
"Him? And how." Hisses Hester. "I bet they know, or at least suspect. If there's a single whisper of anythin', of us bein' ruined because of him, he's out. I'll take him for a ride myself if he don't keep his mouth shut."
Anadil nods slowly.
"Yeah. Yeah. We can't risk it."
She's clearly remembering their encounter with Tedros after the show. So is Hester, and now she casts a dark look towards the door.
"But the boss might."
There's a significant pause. Anadil doesn't seem to be able to deny it- she just shakes her head, bewildered.
"She doesn't even know him. Why would she…"
She trails off at the pointed look on Hester's face.
"She knows him?"
"Remember whose son he is." Hester says grimly. Anadil's eyes widen.
"Arthur Pendragon's. But she never…"
"He don't know why he knows her, that much is bleedin' obvious." Mutters Hester, adding more whiskey to her coffee. "But she recognises him, and that's more dangerous."
Anadil is silent for a minute, considering this with her pale brows drawn together. Hester sips her coffee slowly.
"I wonder what she's gotta find out..." Muses Anadil. Hester frowns.
"I don't think it has anything to do with him…"
Her eyes fall on a specific table, set for two, near the stage. They'd sat behind it last night.
"Ah."
"What?"
"Meredith ain't the only newcomer to have connections to our charmin' young Agatha." Says Hester, throwing back the rest of her coffee and standing. "Come on. We can help with findin' out about this particular mark."
"We can?"
Hester grins as she saunters towards the door.
"Well, I bet you that Nicola will be very willin' to give us the goods on him, as of now."
Tedros hadn't expected it to sting so much.
His father had refused to see him before; not come down for meals, not paid attention when he was ill or upset or what-have-you. But maybe after the chaos of the night, the idea of being rejected again was too much.
He hadn't even come down himself- Tedros had barely gotten through the door before the housekeeper was there, telling him that his father didn't want to see him, and that it would probably be best if he left, because there was no point.
There was no changing Arthur's mind when he was like that, they both knew.
Scowling, he slams his way through the stage door and stalks back to his dressing room, possibly making more noise than was strictly advisable, considering the fact he'd seen Hester and Lady A returning to the club less than a minute after him. He didn't know where they'd been, or what they were doing in the small hours of the morning, and he'd prefer not to. At the very least, he didn't want to have another altercation with-
"At least try to leave the place intact, won't you, Meredith?"
Shit.
Tedros turns to see Lady A stood by the wall, staring at him expectantly, as if she'd been waiting for him.
"You saw me come in, didn't you?" he mutters, too tired and downtrodden to try and talk his way out of anything, let alone to Lady A.
"You're pretty distinctive." Agrees Lady A.
"And I suppose you want to know what I was doing, if I was trying to betray you, and, if I was, Hester will come and blow my brains out onto your nice clean floor?"
For a second, he thinks the corners of her mouth twitch upwards.
"Not particularly. I know where you went, I don't need to ask."
"… of course you do." Sighs Tedros. He shouldn't have expected anything else. It had been made clear that she knew much more than seemed plausible. She probably had informants at every turn. Or maybe she was just observant to the point of terrifying.
Probably both.
"What tale did you spin to him, just outta interest?" she asks. It's delivered idly enough, but he knows lying or evading is out of the question. She wants to know, and know she will.
Tedros scowls.
"I didn't get the chance. He wouldn't see me."
The Lady's eyebrows lift. He's not sure if it's meant to be sympathy, surprise, both, or neither.
"Ah."
"Yeah. I was going to try this, though."
Deciding he may as well try and show her that he's not planning to sell them out to his bootlegger-and-gangster-hunting father, considering he was almost completely sure she was both, Tedros digs a sheet of paper out of his coat and hands it to her.
He watches her scan the sheet, eyes narrowed.
"Julliard." She snorts. "How fitting."
"It's for my musical education." Says Tedros, deadpan.
"Well, ain't that just ducky." She snorts- then pauses, considering. "It's not a bad forgery, actually."
Tedros shrugs.
"Could have been worse. He wasn't going to look at it for more than ten seconds, and focusing on it? Unlikely."
He expects her to hand it back, then, but she doesn't. She stares at it, contemplating…
"I can solidify it." She tells him without looking up.
"Huh?"
"I can mock up some more proof for you, should you need it."
"…really?"
She shrugs.
"I'd prefer it if you didn't get busted three days in because you're a shitty liar."
"I'm not-"
The look on her face makes him re-evaluate his claim.
"…whatever." He mumbles. "Thank you. That would be good."
She hands the letter back to him silently, and, as her eyes shift to meet his, Tedros has another flash of undeniable recognition.
He blurts it out before he can stop himself, curiosity overriding caution;
"Have we met before?"
Lady A pauses.
"What, not countin' earlier?"
"No, before that, obviously."
"…Why do you wanna know?"
"You just… seem familiar." Mumbles Tedros. The familiarity is gone again- he can't pinpoint what it was. But he's seen it twice now, and it's no coincidence.
She's silent for a moment, looking carefully at him, as if trying to work out whether she can tell him something or not.
"No." she says, finally. "No. I think you'd know if you'd encountered Lady A before."
Would he? Tedros isn't sure.
Before he can respond, a door bangs open down the hall, and Beatrix comes skidding towards him.
"Teddy-! Oh. Hello, boss."
"Beatrix." Says the Lady easily, apparently not wanting an answer from Tedros. Pushing herself off the wall, she tips her hat to Beatrix and strides past them, heading towards the stairs. "I'll get the cover to you in the next few days, Meredith. See you at the party, tonight."
"You're coming?" Tedros asks, surprised.
"I gotta know what I'm writin' the paychecks for, ain't I? So make sure you're all floorflushers tonight, yeah?"
"Always are, boss." Says Beatrix, somewhat proudly. "No heelers here. Sophie sees to that."
"And how."
Lady A disappears into the dim corridor, leaving Tedros and Beatrix stood in silence together, watching her go.
Once her footsteps have faded and Tedros is certain she's gone, he turns to Beatrix;
"I knew you were lying about not knowing her well."
Beatrix shrugs, shameless.
"Kiko'd have kittens if she found out. You saw what she was like when I mentioned talkin' to the boss even once. Tremblin'. Imagine if she knew I was workin' close with her. She'd keel over."
Tedros makes a vague noise of agreement, still lost in thought.
"What'd she want with you, anyhow?" Beatrix yawns. "I can't see the daylight shinin' through you, so it can't've been anything bad."
Tedros shrugs.
"I'm not sure. She knew where I'd been, offered to solidify the story I'm spinning to my father, but she didn't ask me anything."
Beatrix raises her eyebrows.
"Usually the boss don't talk to no-one, 'less she wants something from 'em. Trying to work you out, I'll wager. Probably wondering if you were gonna try to lie to her."
"I'm no sap." Mutters Tedros.
Beatrix grins up at him, apparently pleased that her efforts to get him to stop talking like a mark are paying off.
"You sure ain't, Teddy. You sure ain't. Now come on. I gotta go and choose my outfit."
"For tonight? It's 4am. Shouldn't you be asleep?"
"Beauty is a full-time job, Teddy. And anyway, you make it kinda hard, what with that crashing around trying to get in and out. No wonder the boss caught you."
"Huh?"
"Wanna tell me 'bout your father?"
"You're not my therapist!" splutters Tedros.
"True, but I got tea and a couple rings you could borrow for tonight. Come on, big-timer. I know all the gossip."
Sighing, Tedros lets her grabs his hand and tow him along the corridor to her dressing room- but even as she does, he finds himself thinking back on his conversation with Lady A.
"No. I think you'd know if you'd encountered Lady A before."
Evasive. Vague. Perfectly in character.
But somehow, for some, unknown reason, he finds himself perfectly sure that she's lying to him.
They have met before. He knows it. And he intends to find out when. And why, exactly, she had pretended otherwise.
It seems that he's not the only one keeping secrets around here.