A/N: Thank you so much to my reviewers, Kat, CecilyLune and the phantom's cry!
What loneliness is more lonely than distrust?
George Eliot
Chapter Five: The Elusive Monsieur
When Phillipe arrived back at the study, Erik had moved towards the window to watch her leave. He moved away from the window and gathered both the men with his eyes. "And just who is Monsieur Colt!" He thundered.
He thought they had gathered all the information on her that was possible. Her traveling alone, divorced, her work for Remington. Now it appeared that what they knew about her was not as adequate as he had believed. "Javier?"
Javier pursed his lips, turning his head side to side, the picture of a man perplexed. "This is news to me. I did not think her accompanied. No one at the city said she was. Not at the boat, not from Dugast, and certainly he is not at the hotel with her unless he is a ghost!"
The irony of what Javier was saying was not lost to Erik. With a certainty he knew all there was to being a ghost. Living in the shadowy fringes of other people's lives, he knew how to go about undetected. A little suggestion of something here, a bit of trickery there, people were more predictable than they would have believed.
Erik looked at Phillipe. "Did you know anything of this?"
"No. She came with me from the hotel in a cab when we had dinner. She never mentioned a man, well, other than her husband."
Erik went back to his desk returning in his mind to what they had discussed. He had admittedly only just held himself in check with the whole 'voice' episode. Watching Emily's face when Javier questioned her had been interesting, the kind of interesting that slowly descends into something that would make the watcher ashamed to take part in. When she had pronounced in a strong voice that she was not available, he had felt bereft of something.
For God's sake, what was he expecting? He cursed himself once again for being such a fool. Did he think she would throw herself at him? Did he think she would be charmed by him after their initial words together here in the study? Did he expect some magnificent act of adoration on her part? She wasn't Christine. He had not taken the time or patience to weave an elaborate fantasy to bring her to him. That had done him little good. What did he know of Emily? Only what her forthright speech and that smile had told him.
Emily Griggs was cut from quite a different piece of cloth from the singers, dancers, and actresses he had spent his life around. There did not seem to be any artifice to her. If that was true, then this Colt fellow must be the reason she was not interested in men.
And what are you going to do now, he asked himself. Be honest with yourself, he thought, you had actually been hoping hadn't you? You know better than that. That is how it started with Christine, nurturing her and winning her confidence until you watched your hopes collapse and nearly burry you. God in heaven, even beyond his face he was still such a miserable specimen why would any woman want him?
Javier intruded upon his bout of self admonishment. "I will see what I can find out about this Colt fellow."
Erik dismissed them both for the day. It was still early, but he did not think he could wait until darkness was falling. The scarred man needed to go out again. He hoped that along some dark street some bumbling idiot would do him the great favor of picking a fight. It would make him feel so much better to take his frustrations out on some unlucky fool.
Emily did not want to go back to the hotel. She did so only long enough to retrieve her messages and drop off her satchel. She needed to get her own machine back. With it she could visit schools and businesses in order to drum up some interest in the machine. Then she could refer these people to M. De La Shaumette and have him finalize his next order for more machines.
With that though in mind she returned to the hotel and changed clothes, adding her long duster coat. She would pay a drop in visit to Eustache Vaudry, the man who had bought one of the typewriters, and who now had hers.
Emily found that the Vaudry's lived in an old store building at the end of a row across on the North side of the river. According to one of the men at the hotel, it was quite close to the area where warehouses began along the waterfront. Keeping in mind it would be dark when she returned, she paid careful attention as she walked across the bridge, to where shops or bars were that might be open when she left.
She had grown up in the country, where any women that were to travel farther than the next neighbor's farm were required to take a man with them. Emily though it was a bit ridiculous. They knew every family for miles around. But she had learned to drag one of her protesting brothers with her to her piano lessons once a week because it was 'just what is done'.
Learning to get around in cities, Emily relied on landmarks around her. She memorized the street names as she could, but associated pictures with street names. The Rue Roussel had a peculiar break in the cobblestones in front of a butcher shop. The Avenue de Sceaux faced the river's south bank with its wide sidewalk where people liked to stroll. She also paid attention to where alleys opened up to the streets. These were the likeliest places that someone would pop out of to bother her.
She found the Vaudry address and knocked at the door. After a few minutes she saw an older man peer out of the front curtains and move to open the door.
"Monsieur Vaudry? I am Emily Griggs."
He opened the door further and stepped back with a sweep of his arm. "Come in! Come in! My wife will be so surprised that you have stopped by. We were planning on seeing you the first of next week." He closed the door behind Emily and escorted her a little further into the front area of the building which looked to be his makeshift office area. Eustache Vaudry was an older man with thinning sandy colored hair and a slight build. As one would expect, he had a pair of eyeglasses propped on top of his head.
"I am sorry to intrude upon you, but I met with M. De La Shaumette today and he told me that Javier Fernandez had dropped my typewriter off to you. I was wondering if I could take a look at it."
Eustache wagged a finger at her. "Ah, Madame is worried about her machine. Come back to the shop and I will show you what I have done so far."
The back of the building had one long work bench on which rested her typewriter, removed from its outer shell. She noticed the bottles of oil and small tools lying around it. As she looked it over and spoke to him about its condition, she also noticed the amazing amount of tools and machinery in the shop. She commented, "It looks like you have a wide variety of interests."
He nodded enthusiastically. "I have been a machinist all my life. I love to tinker and it shows."
For a moment Emily felt a pang of homesickness. "My grandfather did to. There was not one thing that that man could not fix, even if he had never seen one before. My family said that he was the reason that I am so interested in how things work." Actually, her family had been a bit distressed with Emily's natural talent to fix things. Her grandfather was happy, but her brother had once called her a freak during an argument. It had been like a slap in the face to Emily; her brother reminded her that girls were to cook and clean, not get dirty and take things apart.
"Did you get a chance to work on any of Remington's firearms?" he asked.
"No, mostly the sewing machines and typewriters," she replied. "Are you interested in guns?"
"Ah, yes. With all the political problems we have the government does not allow many to private owners unless they had a lot of influence or money," he said with a wink.
"Well, don't be alarmed, but I have brought something with me." From her coat, she pulled out her Colt .45 pistol. She quickly flipped open the chamber and pulled out the bullets she had loaded it with and dropped them on his work bench. Reversing in her grip she offered it to him.
Eustache examined it with the excitement of a child at Christmas time. He asked a multitude of questions and Emily showed him how it came apart for cleaning. They discussed gun oil and bullets, and she finally let him load it. Standing to his side, she reminded him to be careful of the trigger, because it was ready to fire.
He finally handed it over to her, carefully pointing it towards the back of the building. "I would so love to see it shoot."
She carefully put the gun back in her coat, and finally bid good night to Eustache. She left the building, looking once up and down the street before turning towards the bridge.
Coming from the opposite direction Javier and Erik dressed as the scarred man rounded the corner in time to recognize Emily Griggs leaving Eustache Vaudry's building. They both stepped back hastily and after a minute Javier peered around the corner. "She's heading for the bridge."
The two men went quickly to Vaudry's door and knocked. "Ah, more visitors," Eustache said. "Madame Griggs was just here."
Entering the shop, Erik asked, "We can't stay long, was she here with a gentleman?"
"No, Monsieur."
"She was not accompanied by a Monsieur Colt?" Javier asked.
Eustache blinked owlishly over his glasses and then burst out in a raspy laugh. Erik and Javier looked at the man as if all sanity had suddenly fled him. "What is so amusing?"
Laughing harder, Eustache made his way to set down at his desk. "Monsieur as you call him is a gun!" Calming a little, he pulled off his glasses. "She is accompanied by her Colt pistol."
Erik turned a thunderous scowl on Javier who was now guffawing, setting off Eustache Vaudry in a hail of laughter again. Seeing Erik's expression, Javier attempted a straight face. "Sorry, but she has outsmarted us both my friend." He giggled a little, shaking his head, "That woman is going to be a handful."
"Yes, but that 'hand full' is now heading back to the other side of the river alone," Erik groused. "We need to make sure that she gets to the hotel alright." They made hasty apologies to Eustache and went to the bridge. They just saw Emily turning to the left as she reached the opposite end.
Starting forward, Erik was stopped by Javier's hand on his arm. "Wait, she can't see you like this. I'll follow her back. If she realizes it's me I'll just say I saw her, and escort her back."
Erik nodded agreement and watched Javier start across the bridge. He worried that with Javier behind her, she still would have to turn up one of the streets where there would be a considerable lag in time before Javier would catch up to her. The amount of time he could use the lasso on someone. With that thought, Erik turned up the street and began running to the next bridge. It had been a long time since he had run this hard, but worry for Emily propelled him on.
He reached the next bridge and crouched down at a lamp post on the end to check to see if Emily was coming. As the street lamps had just been lit in the dusk she looked far enough away that she might not be able to make him out. He sped along the rails of the bridge, keeping low until he reached the end where he straightened up and strode purposefully across the road and began running up the street Emily would take. Choosing an alley up a few cross streets, he stepped back into the darkness and waited.
Emily looked for her landmarks, the cobblestones and the butchers shop along the dimly lit street. While she did not hear anything around her, she began to get an uncomfortable feeling. She remembered counting four alleys that she would have to cross, at the second one she ducked in quickly and waited. If anyone was following her, she would see them when she appeared out of the alley.
The next alley up and across the other side of the street, Erik heard her footsteps stop abruptly. He listened to hear any muffled sounds, but was too far to hear a possible struggle. Waiting as long as he dared, he finally broke cover and stepped into the street. He froze as he heard a metallic click and Emily's voice, "Looking for me?"
Emily tried to make him out in the dim light. He was tall and dressed in some kind of coat. He had turned his head to the right; some of his hair covered the features on the left side of his face. "No," the man replied with a wave of his arm and began to turn away from her.
She didn't need any more than the sound of his voice to tell her what she needed to know. She walked across the street with the pistol still aimed at him in case she was mistaken, looking back the way she came she saw Javier rounding the corner. Putting her back towards the building she looked between both men. "Nice to see you again Javier, you and Monsieur…?" Evidently he traveled about as someone else. A fact she found a little disquieting.
Javier raised his hands a little out at his sides. "This is just someone I know. He was looking for me." He started across the street. "We were going to meet and have a drink."
Erik didn't move but was furiously hoping Javier could distract her. His heart was beating so hard he could feel it in his throat; he didn't want her to see him this way. He took a slow step backwards. She turned back to him. "We need to talk." He stood frozen.
Still looking down he replied, "No, tomorrow."
He heard the noise of the gun being uncocked, and Emily stepping towards him. "Tell me that I'm not in something illegal." She stopped. "Tell me what is going on." She stopped again but her voice shook with some emotion, "Tell me I'm not going to be tossed into some French jail for the rest of my life. If anything goes wrong here, Remington will not help me."
When he did not reply, Emily stepped even closer. In a small voice she asked, "Why won't you just talk to me?"
