See Part One for story details.
Vastra and Jenny had decided to take a meal on their way home. Having scandalised the gentleman of The Army And Navy Club, they had repeated the feat at Simpson's-in-the-Strand, causing quite a stir amongst Fleet Street's finest. Jenny considered it a day very well spent but couldn't help feel sorry for her companion, who quietly seethed beneath her lace and gloves.
"I confess, my dear, that I am most pleased to return home."
"Yes, Madame, I thought as much. You really shouldn't take it all to heart; it's just how it is around here. What's it like with your people then?"
Vastra gave a little sigh that Jenny interpreted as regret and was about to say something when a familiar voice chirped up behind them.
"Fancy meeting you here."
They turned to find Archie strolling along the street, hat tipped back at a jaunty angle and smile firmly set on face.
"Master Archie," Vastra said.
Her tone had the young lad smartening up in a moment, his smile shifting to concern and his posture to a wary set.
"Somethin' not right?"
"Madame's had a difficult day," Jenny explained and smiled at him to ease his fears.
"You have news to report?" Vastra said.
"Aye, I do. That Davager's a nasty piece of work, I'd say. Certainly not one I'd let my Mosa anywhere near."
"You would be very wise, I think. But his movements?"
"Left The Rag and went calling on an old friend, some drunkard sitting outside a hostelry of sorts," he did not need to state of which sort, "They had a good old natter."
"Were any letters passed between them?"
"No, Madame," Archie thought for a moment, "nothing like that, just chatter."
"And then?" Jenny prompted.
"Then he goes inside for a little and comes out very pleased with 'imself. Filthy old bast-" Archie looked into Vastra's veiled face. Once you'd seen what lay beneath, you tended to imagine the expression she might wear at any given moment. And at that given moment, Archie doubted that her expression was one of indulgence. He continued, "Anyhow, he came out of there and went back to have his dinner at the Cross. Smoked a very fine cigar, or so Mr Davies said, and drank enough to sink a sailor. After that he had to be helped to his bed by Davies and that's when I left."
"Very good, I -" Vastra began but Archie interrupted.
"Oh, sorry Madame, but I just thought; Davies says to be there at half past six sharp."
"Excellent."
"Yes, well done Archie," Jenny said, "Now you get yourself off to Mosa and be back at the Cross by seven, eh?"
"Right you are, Miss," Archie said, his old cheeky manner back in place.
He tipped his hat and left them to walk the final few yards to Paternoster Row and their home. Early the next morning they rose and left, hailing one of the rare Hansoms at such a time and arriving at The Golden Cross five minutes before they were due.
Jenny introduced Vastra to Esme Wade and they took a cup of astonishingly strong tea as they waited for Mr Davies to join them. He did so with Davager's coat, trousers and boots in hand, though unsullied by his attentions. He handed them over to Jenny with a look of grim satisfaction.
The boots were set aside after a cursory inspection and there were no pockets in the trousers to hold their attention either. Jenny held the coat up so that Vastra could access each pocket in turn. There was a used handkerchief which Vastra set aside most gingerly and a bunch of keys in one outside pocket, a cigar case and rough matches in the other. Jenny opened the case and checked inside but found nothing unexpected.
She took one cigar from its bed and sniffed it, "Blimey, he certainly didn't get them from The Rag."
Vastra then turned her attention to the inside pockets, one of which harboured Davager's pocketbook.
"We couldn't be that lucky, could we?" Jenny said.
"I very much doubt it, my dear."
Vastra opened the wallet and rifled through the cards, clippings and receipts that were contained within, reading each one before replacing it carefully. There was little more than a few pennies stored in the pouch and somewhat to Vastra's surprise, a lock of hair held together with a dirty piece of ribbon. She secured the pouch once more and finally considered the notebook.
The first few sheets of rough paper held names and addresses written in pencil. The hand was small and untidy but not unreadable. After that there was a page of bets written in red ink, some scratched out but with no other annotation.
"Well," Jenny said, "based on that, I'd say he needs the money."
"My dear?"
"Grimwald got flattened in the fifth and Clarke barely made it through the third." Vastra turned to stare at her companion, causing Jenny to explain, "Boxing, Madame; he's betting on the fisticuffs."
"Indeed?" Vastra said, her attention lingering on Jenny for a moment longer before she returned to the pocketbook.
The next page caught her eye and Vastra showed it to Jenny with a tilt of her hand. It read: MEM. 5 ALONG. 4 ACROSS.
"A code Madame?"
"Or directions?"
Jenny reached into her own pocket and pulled out a notebook and pencil. She made an exact copy of the memorandum and then Vastra ensured that there was no sign of disturbance in the pocketbook before replacing it in Davager's pocket and handing the jacket over to Mr Davies.
He and Mrs Wade had stood back, rapt by the whole affair. Vastra thought it a very little affair to hold such interest, particularly for two people employed in such an establishment. An establishment that was beginning to awaken too. Mr Davies took up Davager's things and quickly set to his work, while Esme bustled about the kitchen, issuing orders to her slightly more plentiful early morning staff.
Vastra and Jenny watched them work for a few moments and then saw Archie in the doorway, tipping his hat in greeting. The three colleagues found a quiet spot out of everyone's way and spoke for a few minutes.
"Davager's called for his breakfast at a half past seven," Archie said without preamble.
"He'll have to go to collect the other letters," Jenny said.
Vastra considered for a moment before saying, "He will, my dear. Master Archie, you are tasked with appropriating two letters - perhaps forming one package - of the utmost importance."
"Right you are then," the lad said in his usual easy tone. A sharp look from Vastra had him straightening and he added, "Get the paperwork off of him. Or maybe this pal of his, yes?"
"You may be right."
"Whatever happens, we can't let him keep hold of any copy of this letter," Jenny said.
"He could have everything upstairs."
"That I doubt," Vastra said, "though I trust we will have occasion to find out soon enough."
In fact, it was over an hour before Davager left the Cross, Archie trailing along behind him. The two women watched them go and then begged Esme Wade to clear their path to Davager's room. Most of the hotel's guests had either left early to attend to their business or remained downstairs taking a late breakfast and the landing which lead to Davager's room was empty save for a little maid who Jenny had met the day before. One stern look from Esme and she turned away, leaving Vastra and Jenny free to slip into Davager's room without witness.
He had taken one of the Cross's best - and most expensive - rooms, one with a large four-poster bed and plenty of space. The walls were nicely papered and the room light and airy. Taking up some of the expanse of carpeted floor were his trunk, along with a dressing case, drawers and cupboard. All of them stood open and ready for inspection.
"Well, he knew we were coming," Jenny said, "Got to admire his gumption."
"This display at least tells us that the letter is here, my dear. Why else attempt to make it so obvious that it is not?"
"Right then," Jenny looked around again, "where to start?"
They divided the room between them and gave all of the invitingly open furniture a cursory glance before examining the rest of the room in earnest. They then returned to the opened trunk and drawers, turning them over and around to view each part of each item from every possible angle. It took them almost an hour and Jenny noticed the set of Vastra's shoulders tightening as they passed onto each subsequent area of the room.
"Easy, Madame. At the very worst, it'll be on his person when he goes off to The Rag and we can get it then."
"I would much prefer to avoid such a situation, my dear, and I remain quite sure that the letter is here for us to find. Would you have a measuring device in one of those remarkable pockets of yours?"
Jenny reached for an inside pocket and pulled out a seamstresses' measure. She handed it over to Vastra and watched as her companion opened the tape out to five inches or so, her head moving as she scanned the room for anything that looked a likely candidate to match the size.
Two items caught Vastra's eye and she moved about, measuring each twice before returning to Jenny's side, tape still held open.
"The wallpaper, Madame?"
They examined the wall closely but there was no discernible pattern to the design of trellis-work and flowers upon a green background. They then turned their attentions to the layout of the furniture but, again, there was no pattern to it save for the necessities of their arrangement, certainly nothing that matched some count of five in one direction and four in another.
Vastra straightened from her examination of the skirting board and lifted her head to consider the more ornate woodwork that ran around the top of the walls. Yet still nothing could be made to conform to the required measurements.
Vastra noticed Jenny staring at the fringed curtains that were held back from the window. She strode over and yanked them free from their stays, pulling them together and standing back. Jenny counted under her breath as they both tallied the number of tassels. Vastra then turned to the bed and repeated the exercise on the covers that draped prettily from around the top of the posts.
"Nothing," she hissed.
Jenny took the measuring tape from Vastra's hands and clambered up on to the bed. She rocked dangerously for a moment, then found her balance and waded around the large, soft mattress to measure anything and everything within sight.
Dropping down, she said, "Nor there, Madame," in a bitter tone.
The two women stood together in the centre of the room, staring around them as if the letter could be bought to hand by nothing but the force of their combined annoyance. Vastra made a guttural sound and Jenny took her hand, hoping to calm the boiling anger that threatened to overtake her lover.
A sound from outside the door made them both start. Jenny released Vastra's hand and hitched up her coat sleeves, pulling her hands up in a threatening posture. The door opened just a crack and Esme Wade's voice hissed at them.
"You two done yet?"
"Just a little while more, Esme."
"Make it quick, eh? The bastard could be back any minute now and we need to get the room straightened out."
"Fear not, Mrs Wade, we will not be long."
"Right you are then, Madame," Esme said and then closed the door with a gentle click.
Jenny made to move for the door but stopped when she realised that Vastra's attention was fixed on her feet. Jenny stared down at the handmade shoes that Vastra wore. They were expensive and made by a cobbler who Jenny knew to be trustworthy; Vastra's instep being somewhat unusual compared to a humans.
"I have been a fool, my dear."
"I doubt that very much, Madame."
Vastra dropped to the floor in one smooth motion and Jenny knelt down beside her. She watched as Vastra studied the flooring carefully. It had been a very good quality piece upon purchase but was now much used, probably first in the public rooms downstairs before being demoted to the bedroom to serve out its remaining days. It was now a paled brown colour but would have been quite dark originally. The brown was speckled with bunches of roses and leaves, each set from its neighbours at regular intervals.
Vastra counted aloud and then said, "So, ten across the room and eight to its depth."
"A nice convenient measure, I'd say," Jenny said, already crawling to the centre of the room.
Vastra joined her and they examined the central patch of rose-covered carpet. Vastra played her palm along the surface before clawing at the pile with her fingers.
Jenny batted her hand aside and ran her more sensitive human skin over the material. She returned to one particular area and picked at it with her nail until it gave a little and a tiny opening could be seen. Vastra's larger fingers took up one side of the fissure and the two women eased the carpet back, parting it enough to reveal a slit that opened onto the floorboards beneath.
Vastra freed Jenny's hand, holding the carpet open on both sides while her companion's smaller hands reached within. They did so and after a moment of muttered searching, withdrew slowly, a thin collection of folded papers lightly caught between Jenny's fingertips.
Jenny handed the papers to Vastra, who opened them to reveal one piece of darker, older paper with faded ink in an old-fashioned hand and another, newer sheet that copied the contents of the first in fresher ink.
"The cunning bugger," Jenny muttered.
"Indeed," Vastra said while standing.
She helped Jenny up and made to speak but an urgent little knock at the door interrupted her. The door opened before she could bid them enter and the nervous little maid poked her head around, eyes closed tight.
"Mrs Wade says I'm not to see a thing but to tell you two," the girl hesitated, "bleedin' hurry up - beggin' your pardon, Madame - and get out now."
Jenny grinned at the message, "We will this very minute. Madame?"
Vastra's veiled face turned to confirm that the room had been left as they found it. She stretched out her foot to pat down the raised section of carpet but Jenny stopped her.
Reaching into her pocket once more, she pulled out her notebook and pencil and wrote something in her careful hand. Flashing the note to Vastra for a moment, she then folded the paper and dropped down to ease it through the opening and under the carpet in place of the papers they had removed.
That done, the two women left the room, leaving the maid to go in and tidy up to Mrs Wade's satisfaction. They moved quickly to clear the landing and staircase. Mr Davies waved them into a more private little alcove of the public area which afforded them a good view of the entrance.
Davager strolled through only moments later. He was looking very pleased with himself and Jenny was even more glad of what might be considered a spiteful gesture. She and Vastra concluded their business with Mr Davies by recompensing both himself and Esme Wade for their assistance.
Jenny lead them on the short walk through the public space, just as Archie entered it in front of them. With nothing but a twitch of his hand, a folded piece of paper appeared for just the second that was required to allow Jenny to take it from him. The whole business was done so effortlessly that Vastra marvelled at the skill required to carry out such an exchange. Her admiration for her companion and their young friend increased, as did her unease at the sort of life that might teach such skills.
She set the thought aside as Archie passed her and hissed, "He ain't gonna like this, Madame."
And then he was lost into the room at large and they were out into the light of a London morning. Jenny hailed a cab to take them to Mrs Dayton's boarding house.
They descended the Hansom to find Mr Gatliffe already at the door, his hands fidgeting once more, his eyes shifting nervously between Jenny and Vastra. Jenny smiled at him and Vastra gave a faint nod. It was all that was required to cause the young man's tension to fall away, replaced by a beaming smile. He quite forgot himself and rushed forward to take Jenny's hand in a warm hold.
"You've done it then? I can't tell you how relieved I am."
"I do not believe you need to, Mr Gatliffe," Vastra said and offered her own hand in a more staid gesture, "Miss Wilcox is at home?"
"She is. You must come in and tell her the good news."
They did as asked and found Miss Wilcox and Mrs Dayton waiting in a tense sitting room. Again the relief was palpable and Jenny had to reassure the younger woman twice over before she could quite believe it.
"You really are miracle workers," Mrs Dayton said as she left the room to make a fresh pot of tea, "Miracle is the only word."
"You are all most kind," Vastra said, "but it was no trouble at all."
That earned her a long, knowing look from her companion but it was answered with nothing more than a twitch of her veil until they were safely installed in another Hansom Cab, this time heading back to Paternoster Row and the Adams' residence to inform the Colonel of their success.
"No trouble at all," Jenny teased her.
"Well," Vastra's uncovered cheeks flared a deeper green, "perhaps a very little trouble. Though largely for Mr Davager and the gentleman of The Army And Navy Club."
At The Golden Cross, having celebrated with a swift half in the bar and looking forward to another fine cigar from The Rag, Mr Alfred Davager returned to his room. He noted that it had been tidied by the pretty little maid who blushed so nicely under his attentions and wondered if anyone else had been snooping around.
"No mind, Alfred," he said to himself as he strode to the centre of the room and dropped to his knees.
He scratched at the carpet with his dirty nails and managed to snag the loose threads that denoted the edge of the slit in the carpet. Pulling it back, he wormed one of his fat fingers into the hole and eased the sheet of paper forward.
He stopped, glancing down at the carpet in concern. Something didn't feel right and he scrambled with two fingers to pull out the surprisingly thin sheaf from its hiding place. He stared at it in horror, looking around the room as if someone might remain, hidden in the corners and watching his discomfort.
Davager calmed himself and slowly opened the paper. He blinked at it, staring hard for a few moments in mute astonishment before bellowing out his rage in a string of curses.
He looked back at the paper and re-read the simple, handwritten message: "Change for a five-hundred pound note."