The Angel of Darkness - Caleb Carr [107]
The Doctor shrugged. “Are you so attached to life in this city? Perhaps you have family in some other part of the country?”
“And I assure you, we wouldn’t be asking you to do anything dangerous,” Lucius said.
“Everything’s dangerous, when you’re dealing with that bunch,” Kat answered quickly. Then she eyed the Doctor again. “I got an aunt. Lives in San Francisco—she’s an opera singer.”
“Really?” the Doctor said enthusiastically. “They have a most promising company. Is she a soprano? A mezzo?”
“An opera singer, is what she is,” Kat answered, not knowing what in the world the Doctor was talking about, and looking it. “She sent me a letter once, after my papa died, saying she could get me work as a singer, too. I can sing—Stevie’s heard me.”
Kat turned to me, expecting some support. I just nodded hard and said, “Oh, yeah, she can sing, all right,” even though I’d never thought that much of her voice. But I got a tin ear, and always have had; so I can’t say, maybe she could sing.
“Well, then,” the Doctor said, “one ticket to San Francisco—by rail or by sea, whichever you choose—and, say, a few hundred dollars to—acclimate yourself.” I’d never seen Kat’s eyes grow so big. “All in exchange for—” The Doctor suddenly stopped and turned to Lucius in confusion. “Detective Sergeant, what the devil is all that in exchange for?”
Lucius turned to Kat again, maintaining his smile. “A garment with buttons,” was all he said.
Kat stared at him, her mouth hanging open. “A garment? You mean, like clothes?”
“Clothes might do,” Lucius answered. “An outer garment would be best, though. Something she would be sure to wear in her own house, as well as at the Dusters’. And on the street, too, if possible. A coat or jacket of some kind would really be ideal.”
“I get it,” Marcus said, slapping his forehead. “Of course!”
Kat looked at the pair of them like they were even crazier than she’d first thought. “A coat or jacket,” she said.
“With buttons,” Lucius answered, nodding.
“With buttons,” Kat said, nodding along. “Any particular kind of buttons?”
“Large ones would be best. The larger the better.”
“And flat, if possible,” Marcus added.
“Yes,” Lucius agreed. “Exactly.”
Kat stared at them for a few seconds, then opened her mouth to speak. Unable to find words right away, she turned to me, then back to them; and the blue eyes narrowed as her mouth curled into a slight smile. “Let me see if I’m gettin’ this. You want me to lift one of Libby Hatch’s jackets or coats. One with big, flat buttons. And for that, you’ll give me a ticket to San Francisco and a few hundred bucks to set myself up?”
“That,” the Doctor said, himself looking a bit uneasily at the Isaacsons, “is apparently what we are offering.”
Kat turned to me again. “They serious, Stevie?”
“Generally,” I answered with a smile. The thought of Kat leaving town didn’t set me up much, that was true; but the idea of her getting away from Ding Dong, the Dusters, and all that went with that life outweighed any other consideration. “Come on, Kat,” I urged. “Lifting a coat? You could do it in your sleep.”
She slapped my leg hard. “Ain’t no reason to tell the world that, Stevie Taggert,” she scolded quietly. Then she looked back to the others and stood up. “All right, boys—uh, gentlemen. You got yourselves a deal. It may take me a day or two—”
“The sooner the better,” Dr. Kreizler answered, standing and extending a hand. “But a day or two should be fine.”
Kat shook his hand, much less skittishly this time, then smiled wide. “Well!” she said. “I’d best get about it, then!” Turning to me, she took on a bit of a coy air, playacting like she had in the kitchen. “Stevie—will you—” She stopped, realizing she didn’t know the words.
“Show you out,” I finished for her. “Yeah, sure.”
The Doctor pulled out a few dollars and handed them to me. “See her to a hansom on the corner, Stevie.” He bowed to Kat. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Miss Devlin. And I look forward to the successful conclusion of our business together.” He glanced at Lucius once more.