XXVII

Charlie, the Kid

Roy fancied Lin. It made Rathbone's insides twist. He snarled at the very idea while his head was swimming in other possibilities. He wanted the truth, to be cleared from his confusion, to know where he stood. Aside from that, he needed to assure Lin her brother and the …annoying, fictional hero had escaped mostly unharmed.

Her marched into the stalls, slowing when he noted the absence of anyone inside. The carriage sat there still in the darkness, waiting… but unclasped from the horse. With long strides, he stepped to it and yanked the door open. There lay an empty seat before him. His heart sank. Where was Lin…?

"She's under my custody." Wu Chow told him.

Rathbone slowly turned, unable to hide his snarl, "I see our trust had never existed."

Wu Chow's head tilted ever so slightly, "You're getting cold feet. I thought you would have been ecstatic with anticipation by now. The Jubilee being so near, I really had hoped you would have stayed focused."

Rathbone left the carriage door hanging open as he squared his shoulders to the conniving Wu Chow, "She's not to be harmed."

"No?"

"Not unless you value your life."

Wu Chow blinked at him, "I am surprised you're so taken with her." Slowly a wide grin slithered to his face. "Very well. On one condition."

"What?"

"You go through with the plan."

Rathbone snapped, "And what makes you think I wont?"

"I have my doubts."

Studying the man, Rathbone's eyes narrowed dangerously, "And if I did change my mind?"

"We both know if you confess anything you will be tried with high treason and hanged."

"Humor me."

Wu Chow considered him a moment, before nodding, "If you change your mind, I continue with what I promised. You can stand proudly with your royal family and die with honor as the tenth from the throne… or you can stand aside and live to see a better England."

Personally, Rathbone could not imagine a better England. But…his choices truly were limited. Victoria would never cancel the event. The fireworks would still go on, whether he was present or not… Rathbone nodded, "I stand aside. You'll leave Lin alone?"

"You have my word."

Rathbone doubted it. Sarcastically smiling, he nodded once to Wu Chow and stormed to the doorway, stopped and turned for one last address, "If I am going to stand aside, I will need reassurance beforehand that Lin is alive."

"Would you care to see her now?"

But Rathbone shook his head. "The Jubilee. I wouldn't want you slitting her throat beforehand without me giving her a proper send-off." He walked off into the night, leaving Wu Chow behind.

Three days passed since Rathbone last saw Lin. His appetite was dwindling, despite his efforts to avoid any questions from his housekeeper. Receiving few callers, he kept their visits short and sweet, wanting the time alone. Nights were sleepless and he often paced for hours hoping for Lieu to arrive with good news. Two days left.

The clock struck twelve, and Rathbone sighed heavily. Another night without sleep, he was going to be useless tomorrow…Raising the lamplight, he moved the seat of his desk, pausing when a tapping came by his window.

He crossed the room and pulled open the drapes. Lieu, he never thought he would be so eager to hear the news from the man. The window was opened, but he did not make any motion to allow the man inside.

"What news?" He whispered.

"Chon Wang has hi'ed inspe'tor Doyle."

That was mildly surprising.

"'e foun' the boy."

"Where?"

"Madam Tussa's. Baker Street."

Rathbone nodded. "I trust you to get it then."

Affirmatively, the man nodded and lowered from the tree, crawling down to his comrades below. Rathbone quickly closed the window, pulling the drapes closed. Madam Tussaud's Wax Museum… he had been there once to visit his own likeness just before he had left for his last mission to China. He knew exactly where it was. Dressing in dark colors, he took up his evening cape and hat, his bladed walking stick and loaded his derringer. If there was any chance to get one step ahead of Wu Chow, it was now. Tying his cape on, he cupped a hand around the top of the lamp's glass and blew out the flame. The room darkened, and he quietly made his way downstairs. Stepping out into the darkness, he turned up his collar and briskly made his way down the street… hansoms were difficult to find this time of night, but if he hurried he could just make it by way of shortcut.

Though the streets were dead silent, empty, he felt crowded, watched. Finally a hansom rattled around the corner, coming to stop beside him as he waved it down. "Baker Street. Make it fast."

The driver nodded, "Yessar."

Paying the man ahead of time, he climbed inside. Whip cracked and the cab clopped down the lane quickly. Time ticked slowly, and he growled under his breath, expecting he would arrive too late. The sound of police whistles brought Rathbone to lean toward the window for a better view. The street ahead was bombarded with bobbies.

"Damn." Knocking on the rooftop, "Will this slow us down?"

The driver nodded, "This 'ere is Baker."

"My sister lives beside Madam Tussauds. Is it far ahead?"

"Sir, that is Madam Tussaud's. Righ' there." He nodded ahead.

"Thank you." He opened the door himself and stepped out onto the wet street.

The man turned the cab around and clopped down the street. Rathbone did not wish to be seen by the police. He dashed to the shade of the alley, his cape flagging behind him as he made his way between buildings. Coming to a dead end, he cursed under his breath, searching frantically for another way. A ladder fastened to the side of a building caught his eye. Sliding his walking stick into his belt like some sword, he tossed back his cape and began to climb.

Pulling himself to the rooftop, he looked down. Three stories up wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. Quickened steps shuffled against the shingles, and he turned. A small figure jumped over the pique of a nearby roof, sliding down the tilt to the landing. Rathbone stepped forward to hide behind a chimneystack. Pressing his back to it, he waited and listened. The boy's floppy shoes stepped closer. Rathbone prepared himself. He sprang out behind the boy, grabbing him from behind and clasping a hand over his mouth. The boy was lifted clear off his feet, kicking and growling.

"Be quiet! You don't want to draw the attention of the police." The boy slowly silenced, completely tense as he hung by Rathbone's arms, "Now, I'm going to move my hand. You're going to chat with me about that seal."

The boy nodded.

Slowly he lowered his hand and dropped the boy to his feet, keeping a tight grip on his collar.

"What's your name?"

"Charlie."

"All right Charlie. You know who I am?"

The boy nodded.

"And you know what I want back?"

He nodded again.

"Do you have it?"

"No… they took it." Charlie's round face wrinkled as he squirmed, "Come on, get of! I'm not runnin'…"

"Who took it?"

The boy frowned, "How should I know 'at? The' was three stoogey Oriental blokes. They tried to kill us they did. Then those bobbies came and we scrambled loike rats."

"Roaches."

"Yeah, wahtevah."

"…I see." Lips pursed. Suddenly he realized those Boxers would be returning to his home any moment to hand over the seal. "How would you like to start earning something worth your skills?"

Charlie looked skeptically up at him, sizing up the man before he replied, "Whotchya got?"

"Anything you want. If you can get those gentlemen out of trouble, I'll have a hansom waiting on Alsopp Street."

"I was already gonna do that…Whattyou care?"

Rathbone frowned, "It's complicated and I haven't time to explain yet."

Charlie nodded, shoving back his dirty brown hair, curiosity getting the best of him. "Yeah, all roit. See ya in a few."

Rathbone watched the kid move to the edge of the roof and slide a board across to the next. He practically ran across, disappearing into the dark.

Time to search for that hansom again…