Infernal Devices - KW Jeter [51]
But what did such a daunting figure have to do with me? I had no idea. Perhaps – the best that my poor tired brain could imagine – merely a request for a donation to her organization's good works? The installation of a gaslight in the alley behind the shop, the better to discourage its use as a rendez-vous both romantic and mercantile in nature? There was, unfortunately, but one way to find out; with faltering tread, I mounted the stairs.
"Mrs Trabble." I closed the door behind me. "I'm honoured–"
"Sit down, young man," she said sternly, indicating the chair across from her.
Her intimidating gaze skewered me to the faded horsehair upholstery. A large woman, in unornamented black bombazine; there seemed to be enough of her great bosomed presence to make two or three such as myself; a fierce square jaw, as though a block of granite had been interposed between the brim of her feathered hat and her high lace collar, and a grim visage chiselled therefrom – in all, a person of some reckoning, even beyond her reputation. I sat, unable to do otherwise.
"Reports have come to my attention." Her large hands folded themselves on the reticule in her lap. "Disturbing reports; most disgusting reports, if I may say so."
"Reports? Of – of what?"
"Of your behaviour, Mr Dower." Her chin thrust itself towards me, like the sharp prow of a warship. "Your little… adventures. For far too long, your kind has believed that the night affords you the anonymity to pursue and indulge in the filthiest of practices; well, you may disabuse yourself of that notion as of this moment, Mr Dower. There is no security for the sybarite in the darkness; the Ladies Union has vigilant agents in all corners of the city, and all share my abhorrence at the mischief of your bestial tribe. You may rest assured of that."
I stared at her in astonishment. "I have no idea what you're speaking about," I protested.
"I think you know very well, Mr Dower." Her eyes narrowed to pinpricks of loathing. "Will you attempt to deny that you have been heard seeking directions to certain establishments of ill repute, kept by a certain Mollie Maud? Establishments of a nature even more sinister than the usual sinks of vice – were you not intent on seeking dalliance with the infamous green girls?"
For a moment I couldn't remember where I had heard the name she had spat at me; then the voice echoed in my memory, of the cabby that had first agreed to take me to Wetwick. "No," I said after the moment's confusion. "That's entirely untrue…"
"You know nothing of this villainous woman's enterprise?"
I shook my head in mute denial.
"And the green girls – I suppose you maintain ignorance on that distasteful subject as well?"
The phrase had also been spoken by the cabby. "I've heard the name, but–"
Mrs Trabble snorted in disgust. "That admission alone bespeaks your guilt. If you had kept to the paths of virtue as diligence and a proper upbringing should have dictated, such a topic would be completely beyond your ken." She stood up, the stiff bombazine of her dress rustling like distant storm clouds. "I take it that you are not prepared to confess your intimate knowledge of these matters; that you intend to mask your shame with a brazen charade of innocence. You'll derive scant comfort from it. The members of the Ladies Union for the Suppression of Carnal Vice have striven to our utmost to stamp out these heinous practices of which you're so fond, and I can assure you that your own transgressions will not escape notice."
I rose to follow her. "Really – you must be mistaken."