Adelaide walked across the bridge into Brooklyn. As she got off the bridge and turned down the street toward Flannigan's, she knew that at least one newsie was on his way to tell Spot that she was in town.
As she turned the corner to head to Flannigan's she was peripherally aware of people lounging in doorways and on stoops.
"Well, well, well," said a familiar voice. "If it ain't Miss Addie come home."
Adelaide stopped short when she heard the voice. "Hello, Fire," she said, turning to look at him. He leaned against a wall in a doorway, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.
"Never thought I'd see you back in Brooklyn again."
"That makes two of us."
Fire nodded slowly. "How's the kid?"
"He's fine. Still innocent of anything you might think he did." Adelaide began walking again, hoping he wouldn't follow.
"Uh-huh," said Fire, unconvinced, following her with ease. "You know, we been talkin' to all of Ralphie's old enemies. They all had some other place to be the night he got killed."
"Ralphie committed suicide."
"Right…" said Fire.
Adelaide crossed the street and approached the door to Flannigan's. She moved to open the door and Fire put his hand on the door, keeping it closed.
"We know you know something," he said. "And we're gonna find out soon."
Adelaide looked at him for a few beats, hoping her poker face was as good as she thought it was. Considering she only won about a third of the games she played against Race, she didn't think she fooled him. That, coupled with the face that she was certain that she only won against Race at all because he let her win, she just wanted to get away from him.
"You gonna keep me out here all day or can I go in and meet with Spot?" she asked, keeping her voice steady.
At the mention of Spot's name, Fire took his hand off the door. "I'll be seein' you around, Addie."
Adelaide yanked the door open and walked in, her heart racing from the encounter. She found her old booth with Spot and sit in.
Hardly five minutes passed before Spot walked through the door.
"Well, well, well," he said as he sat down across from her. "Never thought I'd see you here again."
Adelaide tensed slightly at his word choice. "Why is everyone saying that to me?"
"Who else did you talk to?" Spot asked, his brow furrowed.
Adelaide rolled her eyes. "Fire caught me on my way here."
"Oh. Don't worry about him." Spot waved his hand nonchalantly. "So what brings you over?"
"Trust me, this wasn't my idea," said Adelaide.
"Ah, I suppose Jack sent you over here to convince me they mean business, huh?"
"I don't know why. He seems to think we're friends." She rolled her eyes. "As if you'd do anything I'd try to convince you to do."
Spot chuckled. "How little he knows." Spot watched her for a couple beats. "So what do you think of this strike?"
Adelaide raised an eyebrow. "You're askin' me?"
Spot shrugged. "You know the Manhattan boys better than me."
"I think it's unfair what Pulitzer and Hearst are doin'," she said. "And it's a noble cause."
Spot raised an eyebrow. "But…?"
Adelaide hesitated. "Don't tell the boys I said this, okay?" Spot mimed locking his lips. Adelaide sighed. "There are thousands of starving kids in this city who would gladly buy papes at 60 cents a hundred. And I've read about enough strikes to know that in a few days, Pulitzer and Hearst will be bribing kids to sell. I don't know if enough kids on the street would refuse that."
"Hmm," was Spot's only reply. "Even if Brooklyn joined? And…persuaded the kids to not take the bribes?"
"You're gonna beat up innocent kids in the street? Who are just trying to make a living?"
"If we tell them not to sell and they sell, then yeah."
"You do that, and the strike is gonna make a lot of enemies - in the offices, in the streets, and in the homes."
Spot chuckled. "So if you know you can't convince me, and you yourself ain't convinced, why are you strikin'?"
Adelaide shrugged and looked down, running her fingertips along the grain in the wooden tabletop. "I means a lot to Skitts and Tumbler."
Spot shook his head. "I hope those boys know what you go through for them."
"I hope they don't."
Spot watched her for a few beats until Adelaide looked back up at him.
"You talk to Skittery yet?" he asked.
Adelaide shook her head.
"About any of it?" Spot raised his eyebrows.
Adelaide shook her head again.
Spot sighed. "Aide, he deserves to know."
"It ain't that easy, okay?"
Spot just shrugged and held his hands up defensively.
"How's Violet?" she asked.
Spot nodded. "She's alright. Had to move out of that apartment since she didn't have money comin' in from Ralphie no more."
"You meant the money that I had to pickpocket."
Spot watched her for a few beats, but chose to ignore her comment. "She's livin' in this girls lodgin' house a few blocks away from mine, but she hates it. Doesn't get along with any of the girls in there."
"That's shocking," Adelaide deadpanned.
"She's a good girl," said Spot. "You saw."
Adelaide looked down at the table, remembering the night when Ralphie brought the woman to take out her baby. Violet had stayed with her the whole time. She'd only left when Ralphie kicked her out after Adelaide had cried herself to sleep, her head resting on Violet's lap.
Adelaide nodded slowly. "She can be."
Adelaide looked up at Spot and saw him watching her. She cleared her throat and sat up straight once more, back to business. "So? What'll it be?"
"I'll need to talk to the boys."
Adelaide rolled her eyes. "The boys will do whatever you tell them."
Spot smirked. "I know."
Adelaide watched him, annoyed by the cocky silence she could see right through. She slid out of the booth. "The boys will be at The World gates tomorrow morning. I better see you there."
With that, she turned and walked out of the restaurant. For all his cockiness and hard exterior, she knew that Spot Conlon had a soft center. After all that Ralphie had done to her, and the little Spot had done to stop any of it, she knew he would be there.
