Pistons and Pistols Read online

  “Are you sure you have it?” he asked.

  “May I see a few rounds played?” she asked. “Just to see?”

  “Certainly. And we call them hands.”

  True to his instructions, the game was simple but very intriguing. As it turned out, the entire game relied on the odds of particular cards making their way into your hand. It seemed logical that if the odds were low enough, one would just quit the hand, or rather fold. Yet the men seemed to rely on luck most of the time, hoping that the cards they desired would show up. Which, almost invariably, didn’t happen.

  “Would you like us to deal you in?” Clem asked.

  The men seemed very eager for her to play. And all of them, every last one, kept giving in to the compulsion to glance at her small stack of coins.

  Gabriella had just one more question before she was ready to risk what little money she had left. “I hate to be a bother, but, may I ask what you’re betting with?” She had noticed when she first sat down that the papers on the table they were passing back and forth looked like neither treasury nor promissory notes.

  “Shares of the mine,” Clem said. “Probably not worth the paper they’re scrawled on, but it’s all we got.”

  Gabriella cocked her head at the odd news. “I thought the professor owned the mine. Privately. Why would he give shares away?”

  “Ma’am,” Buford said. “The professor ain’t been able to pay us in real money for some time.”

  “Business has been slow,” Clemet explained. “Or so he says.”

  “You gonna play the blasted game or not?” Tobias asked.

  “Tobe,” Dover snapped. “Watch yer mouth around the lady.”

  “I just wanna play cards,” the little man whined.

  “Then by all means, gentlemen,” Gabriella said. “Let’s play.”

  * * * *

  In sharp contrast to the town beneath them, the house was in tip-top shape, neat and tidy to the extreme. The décor of the room was early Greek, with busts and statues of various gods taking up almost every available space. The professor had eclectic tastes, though Rose guessed it was the manservant who did most of the actual decorating. Getting into the house was easier than she expected. A neatly dressed manservant answered the door with an easy smile, which doubled in size when she announced she was there to speak with the professor. The man seemed amused by the prospect of having his employer engage in discussions with a woman.

  As the servant bowed out of the room, leaving them alone, Rose asked, “What do you think?”

  “I think this will not work,” Jax said.

  “It will work,” Rose said. “Trust me.”

  “It’s not you I have problems trusting,” Dot said. “If this man has problems with women, why not let Atom and Click handle things?”

  Rose gave Dot a grave look. “Really? When have you known Click to competently handle something that wasn’t attached to a woman?”

  “Oh, yes,” Dot said, between giggles. “I see what you mean.”

  A small cough interrupted their discussion, and the group turned as one to the door, where the manservant had returned. “Allow me to present Professor Otto Von Maxwell the Third.” The manservant tipped his head as he stepped aside.

  The professor stopped just as he entered the room, an obvious shock griping him as he stared at the crew. Rose would’ve pegged him as a professor even if she weren’t aware of his occupation, simply because he looked the part in every classic sense of the word. Tall, lanky and dressed in the compulsory white lab coat, the professor was gray at the top, pale in the face, and bore a set of eyebrows that she could only describe as forested in their thickness. His dark eyes, wild with curiosity, darted from woman to woman while his hands fidgeted against one another in a ceaseless nervous dance.

  After a few moments of staring at them, the professor snapped for his manservant’s attention as he asked, “Thaddeus?”

  The manservant sighed. “Yes, sir?”

  “There are women in my sitting room.”

  “Yes, sir. It would appear so.”

  “Why?”

  “As I told you, sir, the captain of what you referred to as ‘that magnificent airship’ wished to have a word with you.”

  There was an awkward pause of silence, after which the professor said, “That doesn’t explain the women.”

  “Professor Von Maxwell?” Rose asked.

  The professor squeaked, as if surprised Rose could speak, or perhaps shocked that she dared to.

  Rose extended her hand in greeting. “I’m Captain Rose Madigan of The Merry Widow.”

  Staring at her palm, the professor raised his bunched eyebrows. “You are the captain?”

  “Yes.”

  “Of that ship?”

  “I’m afraid so,” she said, withdrawing her ignored hand. “Is there something wrong with that?”

  “Wrong?” the professor asked, in a tone that suggested there was so much wrong with it he couldn’t even begin to explain it all.

  Before he could get to just what was wrong with it, the manservant cleared his throat. “Sir, these ladies stated that they were suffering from some kind of an emergency. An emergency with which only a man such as yourself could assist them.”

  Rose bristled at the implication that she had to rely on the professor because he was a man, but she appreciated the manservant’s attempt to move the conversation along. He was clearly used to manipulating his employer, and wasn’t above doing so in front of guests. Well, he wasn’t the only one who could manipulate a man.

  “Is that so?” the professor asked in a much more polite voice, as if moved by the suggestion of a distress that only he could relieve. He motioned to the various chairs about the room. “Please, have a seat.”

  Rose snagged the closest seat to the man, while Dot and Jax sat on a small divan just across from them. The professor seemed uncomfortable yet roused by her proximity, which was just what Rose wanted.

  “What can I do for you?” he asked.

  With her best flirty smile, Rose said, “I don’t know if it’s true or not, but I’m told that you run an independent mining operation in your town below.”

  The professor sat back, eyeing her for a moment before he said, “You aren’t with those contraption lovers. Are you?”

  “Who?”

  “He is referring to the Mechanics, ma’am,” Thaddeus said.

  “Ah,” Rose said. “No. I’m happy to say we are not.”

  The professor seemed pleased by this. “Good! Excellent. In that case, yes, I do run a mining operation. Independent, as you put it.” He drew closer to her, lowering his voice to a whisper as he added, “It’s a private operation.”

  “How private?” Rose asked in a purr, uncrossing and re-crossing her legs as she did. It was times like these she regretted wearing breeches. No matter, she decided, as the professor’s sudden sheen of red was enough to tell her the desired effect was achieved. She hated to stoop so low, but there was a tactic for every bargaining table. At least she wouldn’t have to turn Jax loose on him.

  “V-v-very private,” he stammered, then sat back and swallowed hard enough for her to hear the loud gulp. “It feeds my experiments. I use a lot of coal, I’m afraid. If I were to purchase it, the cost would ruin me.”

  “I see.” Rose leaned across the chair, pushing her bosom to the top of her blouse, where the cool air of the room kissed her cleavage. “And I don’t suppose I could talk you into sparing just a little bit of that fuel for us, could I?” She ran a finger across the open collar of her blouse.

  The professor’s gaze was glued to that bare patch of flesh just below her neck.

  “Professor?” Rose asked.

  The man shifted his dreamy gaze to her face, smiling wistfully at her. “Yes?”

  “The fuel? Can we buy some from you?”

  “I’m afraid it’s quite impossible,” the professor said.

  “Impossible?” Rose echoed, on the verge of pouting as she perched against th
e armrest of the chair. “How can anything be impossible for a man like you?”

  The professor glanced to her cleavage again, licking his lips as sweat dotted his brow. Rose could feel him in her grasp, knew her seduction was successful, when, without reason, the man sat back and asked, “Would you like some tea? Thaddeus, bring the trolley.”

  “Yes, sir,” the servant said, wheeling in the tea trolley before the professor finished asking for it. Thaddeus served everyone while the professor rambled about his experiments and how important it was for the fuel to remain in his lab. He failed to give Rose, or her ample bosom, another glance.

  Rose leaned back into her chair with her cup, deflated as well as defeated. Jax smirked, and with it Rose could already hear the woman’s speech about sinking so low for so little. Rose nodded to Dot, who slipped into the part she was brought along to play.

  “Professor,” Dot said in her frailest voice she could manage. “I’m sure you are a very busy man with loads of troubles of your own—”

  The professor snorted. “You have no idea, good lady.” His ensuing laughter was little more than a few squeaks mixed with that annoying sort of chuckle.

  “I’m sure I don’t have a clue,” Dot continued. “But you must appreciate the spot we find ourselves in. If we don’t get a fresh load of coal, we will be forced onto our sails. And I’ll be the first to admit, I prefer the slower pace of sails, the beauty of the countryside rolling past at the rate one can really appreciate it.” She looked into the distance, encouraging the professor to look with her, which he did. For a moment he seemed as though he were caught up in her visions, grinning and nodding with her, until her sharp voice pulled him back to the present. “Yet our schedule won’t permit such sluggishness. Without the coal, we can’t complete our duties. If we don’t complete our duties, we won’t even have a ship to sail.”

  “I am sorry about that,” he said. “But I’m still afraid it’s just not possible.”

  “Friend,” Jax said, impatient to have her turn at the man. “It’s not as though we want to take it for nothing. We are willing to pay for it.”

  The professor smiled over the rim of his teacup. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from such fine entrepreneurs. Yet the fact remains, it’s quite impossible.”

  “We will give a good price,” Jax insisted.

  “Look around you,” the professor said. “Money is not a concern of mine. You could offer me the moon and I wouldn’t consider it. Not for long anyway. The fact of the matter is that even if I were willing to sell you a load, which as I have said is quite out of the question, you have nothing I want.”

  Jax, obviously tired of the negotiations, slammed her full cup on the table before her and stood. “This is going nowhere. If we want coal, we should speak to the men who take it from the ground, not this little grumbler.”

  “Grumbler?” the professor asked as he sat on the edge of his seat. “I’m not a grumbler. Am I?”

  “Jax,” Rose said after a tired sigh. “Please behave.”

  “Actually,” Dot said, “she has a point.”

  “Dot?”

  “He relies on those men to mine it for him. So if he won’t sell us any, let’s see if they will.”

  “Ladies, please,” the professor protested. “You will find the men of Ironstation do not like to deal with…well…”

  “Women?” Rose asked. “Because if they’re the same men we ran into on the way here, they seemed all too ready to deal with us.” Rose placed her cup beside Jax’s and stood, nodding at Dot to join them. “Come on, girls. I think we are done here.”

  “Ladies,” the professor begged. “I’m sure you can appreciate my problem.”

  They ignored him as they made their way to the door.

  Thaddeus was waiting for them with the door open. He nodded at each woman as she passed. Before Rose could slip through, he grasped her wrist, pulling her back with a gentle tug. “I would give him twenty minutes. Thirty if he is feeling particularly put off.”

  Rose smirked. “I don’t have that kind of time.”

  “There is more going on here than you understand.”

  “I could say the same thing. He isn’t the only one with pressing problems.”

  Thaddeus’s eyes implored her for compassion. “Please, give him a chance to explain before you belittle him in front of his men. They already hold such slight respect for him.”

  As much as she would have loved to see the professor suffer, Rose was touched by the servant’s loyalty. “He has an hour, then I’m asking around town for help. Understand?”

  The servant dipped his head. “Jack makes a mean cup of coffee. If one is looking for someplace to pass the time, the tavern would be ideal.”

  Rose thanked him, then joined Jax and Dot on the porch.

  “What was that about?” Jax asked.

  “Nothing,” Rose said. “Are you two in the mood for some coffee? Because I hear tell that our barkeep friend makes a mean cup of tar.”

  With a new spark of hope, Rose led her girls back to the rowdy miners below.

  Chapter 9

  Underhanded Handlings

  In which the Madame is forced to enjoy herself at our expense

  Ruby sat at her desk, working a line of ever-increasing figures that should have made her happy to see. Money was one of the few things in which she took pleasure, and according to the column of numbers, she should have had pleasure in abundance. But nothing made her happy these days. She used to be in control, moving her pieces across the board of life with deadly precision. And now? Now she was left sniveling in the dark while that accursed ship carried her prize to devil knew where.

  How could those men lose an entire ship?

  Incompetent baboons. One could hire a crew of monkeys and get a better job done. She supposed having a man as unscrupulous as Mr. Black in her pocket would guarantee Rose’s capture, yet no. He was no wiser than any other man, unable to think past his own limp dick. But he would serve his purpose soon enough. She just had to string him along until that moment came.

  A knock sounded at her door.

  “Enter,” Ruby said.

  Beatrice, one of Ruby’s older women who had long since given up the bed in favor of maid service, slipped inside, clearing her throat before she said, “Madame, there is a Mr. Black here to see you.”

  Ruby looked up from her papers. “He’s here?”

  Beatrice nodded.

  “This late?”

  The maid nodded again.

  Ruby couldn’t imagine what brought the reclusive cripple to the upper levels of the bordello when it was well past dinnertime. She suspected it concerned important news about the ship. “I see. Give me a minute, then see him in.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The maid slipped out in silence.

  Ruby pulled on her robe and adjusted her hair in the mirror until she was satisfied she was presentable. The man, while a stickler for decorum, must understand that visiting a woman in her boudoir at such an hour granted her certain allowances.

  After a full sixty seconds, the door opened to the gruff voice of Mr. Black.

  “I said I don’t need pushing!” he shouted. “I can do it myself.”

  “Yes, sir,” Beatrice said from behind him. Her voice trembled with fear. “Sorry, sir.”

  Gripping the oversized wheels on either side of his chair, Mr. Black rolled himself into the room. He came to rest just alongside the bed, red in the face and wearing a sneer that would make even the most courageous men shudder. “Ruby! Tell your blasted whore to leave me be.”

  Ruby took the shaken woman by the shoulder and led her from the room. “Bea, go and fetch us a spot of tea. There’s a good girl.” She watched the retreating form of the maid, trying her best not to laugh at the older woman’s distress. Closing the door, Ruby turned to face the man.

  Though broken in body, he still cut an impressive figure. Over six feet of hulking bulk glowered at her from the chair. Ruby had known the man long before he lost the
use of his legs. Where most men would have given up on themselves, Mr. Black seemed to relish his suffering. If anything, the accident had hardened him, and considering he was pretty harsh beforehand, the result bordered on terrifying.

  “To what do I owe this pleasure?” Ruby asked

  “Pleasure?” he snorted. He turned his gaze to the bed beside him, licking his lips a moment before he added, “I’m sure this place has seen far greater pleasures than the likes of me.”

  “True, but not many were greeted as warmly.” Ruby sat on the edge of the bed, facing her guest. “Now, what news do you bring me today?”

  Mr. Black faced her with a grin. “We found her.”

  Ruby’s eyes widened. “You have her?”

  “No. I said we found her. Or at least we know where she has gone.”

  Ruby slumped against the mattress. This wasn’t what she wanted to hear. “And upon what information is this based? Your men’s drunken observations?”

  “I told you my men were sober when the Widow left the island. They just didn’t expect her to haul ass the way she did.”

  Cringing, Ruby prepared her false contrition. She sat up, her lip stuck out in a practiced pout. “I’m sorry, Mr. Black. I forget you’re someone I can trust.”

  Mr. Black narrowed his dark eyes at her. “Cut the act, Ruby. We both know we can’t trust each other. That’s why you’re paying me, so let me do what you pay me for.”

  “Certainly. Go ahead. Tell me everything.”

  “She went to see Jebediah.”

  Ruby gasped. That was a move she hadn’t thought Rose would make.

  Mr. Black grinned as if pleased by her surprise. “He sent her to a mining town north of Tuluca. She should be there now, possibly for a few days.”

  “How did you find this out?”

  “She took a straight shot from the island to Tuluca. It didn’t take long to figure out who she was there to see. It didn’t take much longer to convince him to tell us everything we needed to know.”

  Ruby shuddered, having seen Mr. Black’s men ‘convince’ others before. She hoped the ship’s old first mate thought helping the bitch was worth it. That was, if he were even still alive.