Chapter 21: An Assassin's Handiwork

27th of Month of High Cold, 1837

2:41 PM

"How many men do we have?" Curnow asks as he climbs out of the carriage, O'Connor on his heels.

The corporal sent to greet them quickly salutes and points to follow. "Half a dozen, sir. Lieutenant Burnley's squad should get here soon. The medic is checking the men who were attacked in the basement. Sergeant's orders."

Geoff nods, debating on how to assign the guards he has for now. Security will have to take priority until reinforcements get there. He doesn't need a compromised crime scene today, especially at the fucking Golden Cat. There'll be too many powerful eyes on him for this one.

"What are our people saying?" O'Connor asks. She has a notepad out and has already filled out half of the page.

"That we have no fucking clue, ma'am," their escort groans. "Outer guards didn't know anything was wrong until a barrister walked in and started screaming about bodies. Everyone inside claims they got knocked out before they saw anything."

The trio follows the street until they finally come to the bathhouse. Only two guards are outside, sticking close together at the front door. They both look worried.

"Are the perimeter guards in the basement as well?" Curnow asks.

The corporal nods, climbing the steps two strides before his superiors.

"They get priority. Take their statements while the medic checks them, then get them back out here. We need them on patrols if they aren't useful witnesses."

O'Connor gives her partner an approving glance. She has the same thought: every solider getting interviewed is one not working. It can be decided who screwed up later. There's too many fires to put out now to worry about punishments.

They step through the door and past the waiting guards. Sergeant Reacher is reading over something when they find him by the lobby desk. The beast of a man is head-and-shoulders taller than Curnow and forty pounds thicker, but he gives a respectful nod.

"Sorry to say, but we've got a long day ahead of us, Captain," Reacher says.

"Then we take it one step at a time." Curnow turns to the corporal who escorted them in. "Take my message down to the medic, focus on the perimeter guards. Then give the interviewers all the help you can to speed things along."

"We've got one for taking statements and one medic," Reacher sighs as the soldier jogs off.. "Best we can do until Burnley gets here with more boots."

"Let's focus on what we can work on now. What do we know?"

The sergeant hands the book over to the female partner. "They hit early in the day, before most of the clients and their security came. They kidnapped the Pendleton twins, but left the last customer, an art dealer. The only witnesses are the whores that were with the twins, claim Slackjaw's crew grabbed the nobles and left them tied up. Everyone else is reporting they took a forced nap."

"Shit, these were all supposed to come in today?" O'Connor asks as she thumbs through the ledger Reacher handed her. "Can't decide if they were geniuses or idiots for not waiting until dinner."

Curnow cranes his neck to read the names. There's over a dozen clients scheduled to come in at some point in the evening, half of them easily recognizable nobles. The risk from going after that many high profile targets would be huge, but so would the payout. "Have we figured out how they were attacked? Any casualties?"

Reacher tilts his head to follow, leading them up to the second floor. "It took some cold water, but we got everyone back on their feet. They were knocked out with a choke from behind or quick strikes to the head. No lasting damage, no witnesses in our men."

The Watch Captain feels the glare in the back of his head. He and O'Connor are thinking the same thing: Attano. There's maybe four people in Dunwall who could pull this off without any kills. And he's the only one with the gall to do it in broad daylight.

"Are the witnesses sure it was Slackjaw's men?" Curnow asks. "Bottle Street usually leaves a lot more blood."

Reacher pauses at the top of the stairs to turn and answer. "At least one of them is. The whole brothel is drinking bootleg elixir. She swears one of the regular delivery boys carried Custis out. So either Slackjaw's pets are brave enough to work without the boss' approval..."

"None of them are that stupid," O'Connor comments. "They like breathing."

"Exactly," Reacher says, pointing to her. "So Slackjaw wanted this to happen."

Curnow nods in agreement. "Did they rough up the twins at all?"

"Morgan took a blackjack in the teeth for resisting, but that seems to be it. Grabbed, knocked out, dragged off."

"Then we need to get officers to the rest of the family. Intact kidnappings usually mean ransoms. If the other family members aren't targets, they'll be getting a message about payment." Curnow honestly believes himself. This option is just as likely as Attano, and he'd like to keep his eggs in separate baskets for now.

Reacher shakes his head. "Already done. I sent the call out when we found out who was taken. There's four or five of them in the city, counting the cousins. I'll get confirmation when they've all been reached."

"Good work as always, Sergeant," O'Connor says earnestly. She's still writing furiously in her notebook, listening without looking up from her scribbles.

Reacher takes them to the Madame's office, where he's made the room as a temporary command post. His maps of the city, the building itself, and a copy of the ledger are tacked to the wall. A few loose scraps of paper on the table prove his thinking process is like O'Connor's: record every thought and sort through the chaff later. The Captain has his own small notebook out for his conclusions. He quickly adds a few bullet points to it: Pendleton twins targets, passed on other; no casualties, no extra injuries; only witnesses whores, saw Bottle Street kidnapping; ransom possible.

"Alright, let's start with what we can do now, then working theories," Curnow says. "Sergeant, you have six men here?"

Reacher nods. "Not counting myself. A medic and an officer are taking statements in the basement. You saw the two watching the front door, and my courier. Only one we have left is Reynolds. He's looking for other ways in. The Madame gave us a spare master key, so he's locking every door he can."

"Did we get the original key from her?" O'Connor asks. "Or did she bitch at us like last time?"

All three almost collectively sigh at the same memory. Two years ago, one of her customers was stabbed. Getting her to cooperate was like teaching a Blood Ox to dance: doable, but harder than it had any right to be.

"She doesn't have it," the sergeant answers a moment later. "Knocked out like the others, so there's a good chance our kidnappers used it. Makes locking the doors and windows almost pointless, but it will at least keep the witnesses from getting out."

Curnow frowns, reaching the same conclusion. He writes G.C. Master key missing into his notes for later. "It's better than nothing. Let's have Reacher's men focus on securing this place and getting witness reports while we examine the building. So, theories. You have anything, Sergeant?"

The massive officer pulls a particular paper out of his clutter, reading it to himself. "I think Slackjaw was a hired hand for the Whalers. They wanted the Pendletons for some reason, and they got Bottle Street to be assistants."

"I've heard crazier ideas," O'Connor says. Some of her ever-constant sarcasm is there, but she seems interested. "Where's it coming from?"

"Gut feeling and a crossbow bolt like the Whalers prefer. We pulled it out of a wall." Reacher points to where it was on the building's map, in the main circular chamber. "And do we really believe the Bottle Street choffers could've taken out everyone in this building as quietly as they did?"

It's not the worst theory. If Curnow didn't know about Attano's crossbow and vendetta, he would say it's as good as any. But he can't say out loud why he's betting Reacher's wrong. "Fair point. Let's assume the Whalers did the hard part, took out all of the guards so they could get the twins," the Captain says, adding Whalers/Bottle Street joint effort? to his written assumptions. "Why get outside help? They've done enough kidnappings to have it down to a science."

"Whalers work solo or in threes, which is a problem if they have two bodies to carry back. They'd be exposed the entire time. Why not get some else to do the lifting for you, maybe kill them afterward to avoid cuts of the profit." The sergeant drums his fingers across his leg, thinking as he speaks. It's only slightly noticeable.

O'Connor points to Reacher with her pen approvingly. "That works both ways. If the Whalers want the Pendletons, they hire Bottle Street to carry them out. If Slackjaw is after them, he gets the Whalers to clear a path."

"Do we think they could work together long enough to manage this? Neither one are known as team players," Curnow thinks aloud.

"Coin trumps everything," the sergeant shrugs. "If the payout is big enough, it might have been enough to get them on the same side."

Curnow eyes his partner and tries to read her thoughts. Knowing her, she considers Corvo the primary suspect and Slackjaw an accomplice. It's more likely than the Whalers working with Bottle Street. But she's had Attano in her cross hairs ever since Curnow told her about the Abbey. That's not something she'll let go of easily, short of finding a Whaler mask somewhere in the building or Slackjaw himself holding a crossbow.

The Captain is almost convinced this was Attano. The lack of casualties sells him on it more than anything. If the Whalers were involved, it would've been done just as quietly, just as quickly, but with a lot more blood: they've never cared about collateral. No, this job reeks of the vigilante. There's still the lingering question of where Slackjaw comes in and what Attano's getting out of it, but those are finer details to work on. He adds Motive for cooperation? in his notes to remind himself later.

"Let's work with that theory, then: Whalers and Bottle Street are working together on some kind of kidnapping job," Curnow says, doing his best to hide what's in his head. "Where does that leave us?"

O'Connor gives him a very brief glance, hinting she knows exactly how much shit he's full of. It's quick enough Reacher might not notice. "No point in trying to nail down who funded the job yet. The Pendletons have more enemies than silver mines. The kidnappers are the best place to start."

"We can forget about the Whalers," Reacher says. He doesn't acknowledge the look between his superiors. "They're too tight lipped, assuming we could catch one. Slackjaw is a known quantity, and so are some of his safe houses."

Curnow starts rolling his pen in his right hand. "I told Burnley this morning we need to remind Bottle Street who runs this city. If we hit them this afternoon, we can kill both of those birds with the same bullet. Maybe we'll even get lucky and find their contact with the Whalers."

"Assuming the Regent doesn't stick his nose in and slow us down," O'Connor grumbles. "I'm not the only one thinking it."

Curnow shakes his head solemnly. "Reacher, anyone from the Tower try to reach you yet?"

"No, nothing from Parliament either," the sergeant says. "I'm not looking forward to seeing that messenger."

"I'm more concerned about Burrows picking one of us up for his 'special debriefings.' Not like his pet freak doesn't have enough people to beat on." O'Connor has a cousin who was taken in as a murder suspect three months ago. The Royal Interrogator had two days with him before they caught the real thief. By then, he'd lost his tongue, three fingers, an eye, and most of his foot. The lieutenant has openly hated the Regent's office ever since.

"We need to take precautions, for all of our sakes," Curnow admits softly. "The Regent will be breathing down our necks on this one."

"He won't trust us to do any questioning," Reacher thinks aloud. "And he'll probably interrogate one of the interior guards, whoever he decides isn't telling the truth about not seeing anything."

"You think any of them aren't?" O'Connor asks.

The sergeant shrugs. "Doubt it. Bad enough they have to admit they were beaten by someone they didn't see. If anything, they'll lie and say they did."

"Which means the only real witnesses are probably the girls..." Curnow says slowly. "We need to question them before they get picked up. I doubt Burrows has suddenly learned torture never gets us good information."

"I'm not handing them over to the Interrogator. Fuck that." O'Connor makes her point with a short pen jab into her book.

"I'm with the LT." Reacher walks around the table and leans against it beside her. "Any ideas?"

"Before you two start planning a coup..." Curnow mutters. "Be practical. Think of a way that doesn't get you in the whipping chair instead."

Reacher drums his fingers for a few seconds, this time on the table. "What about using the girls to cover our men? Make sure everyone knows they're the only witnesses. Only have to worry about two people rather than the whole squad."

The sergeant's idea gives Curnow a bit of inspiration. "Right. Then we say we're moving them around to be safe."

"Make the Regent's lackeys run all over the city to wherever we've 'hidden them.' I like it. How long can we pull that off?" the lieutenant asks with a small grin.

"Two days, maybe three. Long enough to find the kidnappers from Bottle Street and question them," Curnow says. "We can throw them to Burrows after we're done: that should be enough to make him forget about the girls."

There's a knock at the door, and it opens before any can respond. A Watch corporal, several years too old for his rank, snaps a rough salute. "I locked everything I could, Sergeant," he reports strongly. "But I found something you may want to see."

Reacher puffs up a little, making him even taller. "Reynolds, wait until one of us tells you to enter before you barge into a meeting. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir. Apologies, sir." The corporal was sweating before, but now he's almost dripping. Reacher has that effect on people, which is why he's always welcome in interrogations.

The sergeant relaxes a little and becomes slightly less intimidating. "Now, what did you find?"

"I may have found where a suspect broke in, and proof they may have been after something other than the Pendletons, sir."

O'Connor perks up, tapping her pen to her notepad. "Let's see it then. I'm getting stir crazy."

"Understood," Reynolds nods. "Please, follow me."

The Captain falls in behind the corporal, then the lieutenant and the sergeant. They only go to the balcony on their floor, just outside the stairwell. Reynolds points to the windows high above the door. "Those were open when I found them. There are footprints on the ledge, and it's the easiest place I've found to get in without being spotted."

Curnow's eyes follow the ledge to the air conditioner vent to the neighboring rooftop. Apart from the tight squeeze at the window itself, it's an easy climb. And there's surely a few ways to reach the other roof from inside the building. "Looks like it, Reynolds. Good work," he says before adding another quick note. Infiltrate from neighbor roof/vents, climb and small opening.

"They can be closed, but not locked. We should have someone posted here, sir," Reynolds explains.

"Consider yourself volunteered," Reacher orders. "After you shows us the proof you think you've found."

The corporal nods, then leads them back towards the staircase. "After securing the windows and doors on the lower floors, I wanted to lock the upper windows. They're easier to reach than most people realize."

"Reynolds's giving you his professional opinion. He used to be a thief for the Hatters, before he decided to work for us," his sergeant explains.

"The Watch has a better retirement plan," Reynolds jokes dryly. "It doesn't involve being buried under the floorboards because I know too much."

O'Connor speaks what Curnow thinks. "Explains your age, corporal. Midlife crisis, huh?"

He simply shrugs.

Coming to the top floor and the dormitory, Reynolds gestures to the three rooms behind closed doors. "It's the one in the middle, Captain. The other two are just bunk rooms for the whores."

The Captain approaches the room with slow curiosity. Behind the closed door, he finds what looks like storage for extra furniture. A few rolls of rugs, a bed frame, and a dresser are all tossed in haphazardly. But he quickly changes his first impression: they actually make a rough barricade between the front and back of the room.

Curnow approaches the makeshift fort and finds a set of children's drawings behind the bed frame. Scattered dangerously close to a lit lamp, there's a half dozen papers covered in colorful scribbles. Each one has an entirely different subject, ranging from a pair of "mean men" to the Golden Cat's advertisement, but all seem to be drawn by the same hand. He picks up the lamp and uses it to search the floor for anything else. Crayons are loosely collected in a corner, and a plate with fresh food scraps is set against the wall. Apart from that, there's nothing of note.

"Shit, this wasn't a daycare," O'Connor says with disgust. She's examining the door handle. "Lock's set the wrong way. Prudence had a fucking kid trapped in here. You can see where he tried to pry the door open. Tell me our kidnappers roughed her up some."

"No such luck," Reacher comments.

"The room was unlocked when I found it, no one inside. I tore the floor apart and didn't find the child they had here," Reynolds explains. "Those eggs on the plate were made this morning: there are pans dishes downstairs."

Curnow barely hears the last sentence, instead dealing with the lightning storm in his brain. He notices the artist signed her name on one of her drawings: Emily. It's a common enough name, one that became more popular when the Empress gave it to her daughter. But what are the odds? A child named Emily, held against her will, disappears with a pair of corrupt parliament members? From a heavily guarded brothel where some assassin left only unconscious bodies?

If this was Attano, everything falls into place. The Pendletons are notorious for supporting the Regent in Parliament. Everyone knows they're the reason Burrows has passed almost every law he wanted since he took charge. With Slackjaw's help, Attano took them out of the equation and crippled another arm of the Lord Regent. Then he rescued Emily Kaldwin.

It's also proof that Attano's conspiracy is a real thing. There's no reason Lady Emily would be anywhere except with the people who had her mother killed: that's been a given since she was taken. Considering the twins are the ones currently missing, logic states they were the ones working with the assassins. And with their unconditional support of the Regent, it's an easy assumption he would be in charge of whatever plot they were a part of.

The Lord Protector wasn't full of it. He's not some madman who killed the Empress and invented a conspiracy to explain his innocence. He's their scapegoat, painted as an assassin to wrap up loose ends. But they didn't expect him to get out of Coldridge and figure out who set him up. Now he's a very capable, very pissed off vigilante after the ones who killed his Empress.

"Find anything else?" O'Connor asks, bending down beside her partner.

He quells his cascade of thoughts and pushes the drawings to the side. As Maggie tries to examine them, he holds a finger up to pause.

"We need to see who knows about the child," Curnow orders calmly, looking to Reacher and Reynolds. He stands and steps away from the furniture barricade. "Sergeant, can you get back down to the basement? Ask our men and the girls what they know about a child. Let's try to get a name, and make sure they were taken with the Pendletons. We can't waste time and resources if the kid is with their babysitter down the street."

Reacher nods. "I'll see if I can't get a description too. Can't hurt to know what they look like."

"Good. Then focus on getting your men organized here. I know you're short, but do your best until Burnley gets here. Reynolds, hit the head, grab a water, and watch that balcony you couldn't lock down. Reacher will get you a partner as soon as one's available. You're dismissed, Corporal."

Reynolds salutes, then quickly rushes down towards his post.

"You've got a plan," O'Connor states, rather than asks. She's still checking the corners of the room for further evidence, ignoring the pile of drawings her partner shoved out of the way.

"I want to hit Slackjaw before he can move the Pendletons," Curnow says. "Reacher, we'll give the room another pass. If we find anything, we'll let you know. Interview the girls yourself, then get them moved somewhere safe. If the Regent asks where they are, send them to Emerson at headquarters. I'll make sure she knows what to do. I hate to leave you shorthanded, but it'll take time to organize the raids."

"We'll manage, Captain. Just find these bastards. They gave us a black eye with this one. We deserve a little payback." The sergeant salutes as well before leaving like a man on a mission.

O'Connor closes the door so she and her partner are alone. "The fuck was that?"

He grabs the drawing with the signature and hands it over. "We've got proof Attano was here. And he's not out of his mind."

"This has to be the Kaldwin kid, right?" she asks, doing the same math as him in only a second. "They kept her locked up here?"

"Had to be, at least recently. What are the odds it's a different child named Emily?"

"If it was anywhere other else... At least we know it was Attano who hit this place, not the Whalers. Where does Slackjaw come in?" she asks. Dropping the art and lantern, she starts scribbling her thoughts down again.

Curnow scratches his chin. "Corvo probably put a knife in a competitor's knee or something, told him this was how he should repay the favor. I bet Slackjaw didn't even know about Emily. Corvo probably made a deal to get the twins out after he cleared the way, then took her alone. He wouldn't trust anyone but himself for that."

"Stash her wherever his base is, then keep hunting who he blames for the Empress's death. I don't want to be the Pendletons right now: Bottle Street has a habit of not returning their victims in one piece." She pauses, staring at something beyond the floor in thought. "They won't be handing them back. They're alive, but there won't be any ransom."

"What's your theory, Maggie?"

She does a waving motion with her hand as she tries to stir her thoughts into something organized. "Attano took the Overseers from Burrows without killing Campbell. Exiling him makes Campbell's life suck and ensures the Abbey doesn't support the Regent, right? The Pendletons were the only diehards Burrows had in Parliament. If they're not around to vote, I bet he loses the majority. And if Slackjaw is kicking the shit out of the twins or has them making his elixir, they're suffering like Attano wants. Both of those go out the window if they get returned."

Curnow nods and continues thinking. He's making sure there's no other easy solution they're missing. It's easy to fall down the rabbit hole when locked onto a particular train of thought. Finding nothing, he decides to ask the big question. "It's as good as anything we have. So, you change your mind on the Lord Protector being innocent?"

"Not sure yet," she shrugs. "It's still one ridiculous story. There's conspiracies, and then there's one where a Spymaster hires a magic assassin to kill his Empress, kidnap her kid, frame the bodyguard, and gets a dozen other nobles to help him run the Empire."

"The evidence is starting to point towards it. Do you think that's more likely than the Pendletons were in a brothel that happened to have Emily Kaldwin locked in the attic?"

"No, but maybe it was just the twins and Campbell. The Regent might be blackmailed and has to work for them. Or it's like that fake leader thing the Cutters tried when they first started. The Pendletons hired the Whalers and held onto the kid for a rainy day."

"That's what I want to find out." Curnow allows a small, excited smile. "If we find the twins, we can grill them for information about the rest. We can't touch Campbell since the branding, but we'll have a reason to hold Custis and Morgan. We say we're looking after their injuries, keep the family away. It might give us enough time to crack one, especially if Slackjaw's treating them the way we're betting."

O'Connor follows the thought process and grins. "Then we can get ahead of Attano. We don't have to figure out his next targets if the Pendletons tell us who else is on his list."

"We catch him, then rescue Lady Emily. Between all of them, we can get the truth and decide who we throw to the gallows."

"You think Attano's going to go for that?"

"If he doesn't, oh well. He doesn't get a choice: this is the best way it all ends without his revenge getting someone killed by accident."

"Sounds like a plan to me." O'Connor rips the latest page out of her journal and puts it in the burning lantern. The flames quickly destroy the sheet with minimal smoke. "We're still keeping the Attano connection quiet, right? Better safe than sorry."

"Hopefully only for another day or two. Let's go organize the raids on Bottle Street. We still need the Pendletons for the plan to work." He holds the door open for his partner.

She walks through and nods in thanks. "If Burnley's busy here, we'll have to find another squad to work with. I'm thinking we get Shepard: he knows the area, and he runs his men well."

"Either him or Ryder. Her squad pushed the Hatters back to Draper's Ward last month."

O'Connor shrugs. "We'll see who answers first. Let's talk to Burnley, before he gets too wrapped up investigating here. If anyone knows where Bottle Street hid the twins, it'll be him."

"Fair point."

Coming out to the front courtyard of the Golden Cat, they notice the approaching squad of Watch officers. Lieutenant Burnley's group has arrived, with the man himself on point.

O'Connor laughs a little. "Timing."

For those of you who have come to expect a witty remark or tiny story to entertain you at the bottom of this thing, I apologize. But after staring at this screen for ten minutes and haven't been able to come up with ANYTHING. So... enjoy the chapter. Hope everyone is still enjoying the saga of "world's unluckiest guard captain." ~MGA