A Singular and Whimsical Problem (7 page)

“Why are you shaking like that? Stop it.” She swatted my arm.

“Merinda, it is
freezing
in this awful cell.”

A few other women looked up and snickered, probably at my delicate sensibilities. Some had obviously been detained for public intoxication; they hiccupped something fierce. A few others were smudged with rouge and glossed with heavy red lips. I supposed they were ladies of the night.

A rat scurried in the corner. The whipping winter wind was poorly blocked by the wooden slated door. And my teeth would not stop their incessant chattering!

“So this is what happens when you attempt to do some good in the world,” Merinda muttered.

“I wonder if I'll ever be free again.” I sighed.

“Oh, hush. It's not a death knell, Jemima, it's a night in a holding cell. Think! Think! We can finally appreciate what so many of our clients endure!”

“I could be home! I could be home in my lovely bed sipping a warm drink by the fire. Without any rats.”

Merinda did not deign to respond.

Melanie was huddled on the opposite bunk, which was more a slat than a bed. Suspecting that she was part of our intrigue, the police had thrown her in here with us as well. Her knees were pulled up to her chest.

“You are braver than we are,” I told her.

“My mother used to quote a verse from Matthew.” She took a breath and said in French,
“ ‘Vraiment, je vous l'assure: chaque fois que vous avez fait cela au moindre de mes frères que voici, c'est à moi-même que vous l'avez fait.' ”

“ ‘Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me,' ” I murmured to myself. “I guess that applies to more than the poor on the street.”

“I tried to remember it.”

Several hours later, I woke up with a painful crick in my neck. I lifted my head from where it had dropped atop Merinda's. I stretched and looked about me in murky morning light.

It was drabber and even grayer now that I could see the cell in clarity. The rats had abandoned their search for fallen crumbs and the other lady occupants snored loudly, their makeup in even more disarray. The pretty lashes, sumptuous lips, and flaming red hair was, when brightened by daylight, quite garish and unflattering.

The bells were tolling brightly and I could just imagine them catching the brisk winter air. Honestly! I'd been confined less than twelve hours and I already was feeling like I had completely forgotten the tang of the wind on my tongue, the taste of an errant snowflake. I supposed I would never do to be locked up for any length of time.

Merinda was still sleeping, her knees tucked up to her chest. Her blonde bob was the brightest thing in the dank cell. Melanie, too, was asleep, looking childlike with her fist curled under her chin.

I nudged Merinda, suddenly lonely and desperate for company in spite of the bodies sprawled unconscious around me.

The door clinked open suddenly and the three of us were ushered out. I blinked away the too-bright light just before a man grabbed my elbow and muttered at me. His voice rumbled low in his throat, almost indecipherable, but I made out enough to wince in offense. Merinda
tried to kick him a few times, but to no avail. He was bulky and fast, and her wiry frame was easily contained and tossed in the back of a carriage. I soon followed. The rumbly man with sour breath wound two handkerchiefs around our eyes and pulled tight.

I didn't see what happened to Melanie. My heart caught in my chest.

“What about our trial?” Merinda seethed.

“Abernathy said to skip the trial with you two.”

Sardines in the back of a rickety carriage, I could make out little of what was happening outside. I could tell Merinda was trying to compensate for what she couldn't see with her other senses. Her ears were pressed to the slats of wood in our covered partition and she was sniffing, her nose wrinkling like a jittery rabbit.

Finally, still blindfolded, we were tugged out of the back of the automobile and dragged over slick stones. I held tightly to Merinda. Even if I hadn't heard the gulls cawing or smelled the fish carcasses, I would've deduced we were near the harbor on account of the bracing chill.

We were shoved and prodded, pulled and pushed, and finally tossed harshly into a sweltering circumference that I sensed must have been a cubby of sorts. It was hot and close and smelled awful. My body had trouble overcompensating for the shivers that had rippled through me and were now replaced with sweltering perspiration.

“You're just going to leave us here?” Merinda's voice was frantic. Angry.

“You're not my responsibility, lady. I was just supposed to shut you up.”

I could feel Merinda's shoulder brush mine and I thanked God for small mercies. If I had been here on my own I would have passed out from fear already.

“D-do you think we're in over our heads?” I shuddered.

“You always ask that.”

“I can't see where we are. We could be out in the middle of some terrible barge.”

“Cracker jacks. We may be on a boat, but it hasn't started moving yet.”

“How do you know?”

“Instinct. We're obviously at the harbor. And I think the same fate that awaited those girls awaits us.”

“We're being shipped away!” I squeaked.

“Nonsense.”

“How can you stay so rational and calm, Merinda? This is not a Sherlock Holmes story. This is not something logical. We are being sold into some salacious enterprise.”

“You know something will turn in our favor at the last minute.”

I exhaled. “What would Sherlock Holmes say to this?”

“Ah, he would've been too smart. They never would've caught him.”

I could feel her wiggle. “My nose is itchy but my hands are tied,” I complained.

We sat silently for a moment. “You know why people love Sherlock Holmes, Jem?” said Merinda. “You just say his name and everyone shivers with the anticipation of some unstoppable genius. You know it's all going to end well. Everything will make sense; it will all be explained. It's not like our world with all these made-up rules and reformatories for incorrigible women. Where you and I have to hide our identities in order to find some semblance of reason.”

“I suppose this is what we wanted.” My voice cracked a little.

“It is. Because now we're in the belly of the beast, Jem! This is how it happens! Abernathy and Tipton and Walters all survey the girls, concoct a useless reason for them to be thrown away, and then transport them for their venture over in Chicago or New York or heaven knows where.” I could almost hear Merinda's brain whirring in an attempt to think of a next step. “They all must get a cut of the profit, hence why Walters was so deeply involved and why Abernathy was so eager to get rid of Melanie.”

“And why Tipton was so eager to get rid of us.”

“Well, there we were, talking to Melanie. He must have put two and two together.”

“I don't think we're going to leave this ship. We don't fit the profile they're looking for.” Not in our men's clothes, at least. My wrists were chafing. The kaleidoscope of colors whirling behind my blindfold did
little to take the attention away from a sudden movement at my thigh. “Merinda!” I gulped.

“What?”

“A big rat just brushed my leg.”

Meeoow
.

“That's not a rat, Jem.”

Meooowww.

The cat crawled into my lap and then reached his claws up to my shoulders. He nuzzled his nose in the nape of my neck and inched his way up to my chin. His whiskers and little ear tickled my cheek. I smiled for the first time in what felt like days. Then he turned, meowed, and rubbed against my cheek again. But this time I felt something different… something about the ear that…

“Merinda! I think this is Pepper!”

“Pepper!”

The cat meowed, perhaps affirmatively.

“The sneezing!” we observed at the same time.

Pepper was here when the girls were toted away. Melanie couldn't be far. Jeannette?

The slat of a door slipped open. Even behind the blindfold I could sense sunshine coming through in bright slants.

Soon our hands were untied and our blindfolds removed. Merinda's eyes were scanning my face frantically.

Mr. Walters picked up Pepper and stroked his head. “This cat loves to follow me around town.”

“The cat also knows you're a scoundrel,” Merinda hissed.

His look was one of dismissal “Not many tea shops in New York would take a second look at you.” He ran his eyes over her. “You're all angles and lines.” His gaze swerved over to me, and I shuddered. “But you… you are exactly what I'm looking for.” My misshapen male garb obviously wasn't as good a disguise as I'd intended. He hoisted me to my feet and Merinda jumped up after.

Merinda whispered tremulously in my ear: “You must play his game, Jem. So he won't hurt you.”

I sniffled a reply.

“
Jemima Watts,
promise me you'll play the game.” Her eyes took on a bright sheen. A rare thing: Merinda close to tears. I gave a quick nod.

I remembered what Merinda had told me and played docile. I had no idea how she would come up with a plan or when or where. But I was sure she would think of something. It is remarkable how unwavering your faith in someone becomes the moment you realize they are your only creak of hope in a rapidly shutting door.

Walters took my tweed coat, folding it and placing it on a nearby ottoman. “You are a picture. Like one of Mr. Gibson's ladies. Even in those trousers. You were made for New York.”

I looked to the cabin roof. How long was I to sit here?

I took as deep a breath as my chest would allow. “I know what you're doing. I will make sure the
Hogtown Herald
knows about you, and soon all the papers will plaster your name across the headlines for the reptile you are! You and Abernathy and Tipton!”

He slapped me. My face froze a moment more with surprise than pain, then tingled back to life.

I screamed as loud as my lungs would allow, hoping the sound would reverberate upstairs. That Merinda
had
found a plan. He placed his gigantic palm over my mouth and I saw the glint of a knife. I squirmed and kicked, but the more I fought, the greater his force. He was much bigger than I, and had a brutish strength exacerbated by his anger.

Just as I was becoming certain that my eyes were about to be closed forever, footsteps echoed on the stairs nearby and voices forced my eyes open. Blurrily, I made out Merinda. She retrieved the pistol from her waistband and, rather than threatening and pointing as we had practiced in our defense class with Jasper, she smacked him over the head with it.

Out cold, he slid off the couch and to the cold floor before. Merinda dropped in front of me, her face so concerned I nearly forgot myself and my predicament and even, pathetically, attempted to straighten
up and paste on a smile. To no avail. “Where's Melanie?” My voice and hands were shaken.

“We got them all! Did he hurt you?”

Her eyes flickered over my face and body, taking in the hair spilling over my shoulders and the havoc wreaked on my poor torn blouse.

I shook my tear-splotched face. “Not really… no… ” I would have bruises on my arms and my neck, but I hadn't been injured. “How did you get here?”

“Kat and Mouse have been spending a lot of time watching these carriages and barges. They knew exactly how to winnow their way in. Remind me to give them a raise.”

I could tell she expected a smile. But instead I leaned forward and threw my arms around her neck, slobbering into her shoulder with hiccups and sobs.

And even though she extended her arms around my back and held tightly, her voice was snide when she said, “And we don't even have Mrs. Malone to do the mending. Your second-best shirt!”

Seven

I blinked hard in the sudden sunlight and tried to straighten my blouse under the coat Merinda had flung around me. My hair was ghastly, I was sure. Journalists milled about and photographers assembled their equipment as Mr. Walters, with a bloody handkerchief bearing evidence of Merinda's blow, was escorted to a police carriage. Judge Abernathy would be next.