The Angel of Darkness - Caleb Carr [108]
I took Kat’s arm, and we headed out of the house.
Once on the sidewalk and moving toward Second Avenue, she began to jump around like a four-year-old. “Stevie!” she near screamed. “I’m goin’ to California! Can you believe it? Can you imagine it? Me, in San Francisco!”
“You really got an aunt’s an opera singer?” I asked, as she came close to strangling me by throwing her arms around my neck.
“Well, practically,” Kat answered. “She works in the opera house, anyways. And she’ll be a singer someday, she told me.”
“Unh-hunh,” I said, not completely convinced. “She ain’t no floozy, is she, Kat?”
“No, she ain’t no floozy, thank you, Stevie,” Kat answered. “And I ain’t gonna be either—not no more! My life’s gonna change, Stevie, change—and alls I gotta do is steal a jacket from Libby Hatch! Steal a jacket from a woman what has trouble keepin’ her clothes on, from all I can tell!”
We’d reached the corner—directly across the avenue from the New York Lying-in Hospital, I noted—and as I hailed a hansom, Kat’s face screwed up one more time. “Whatta you suppose they want such a thing for, Stevie? The Doctor and them two fellas? They’s strange birds, those two, for cops.”
“I don’t know,” I said, suddenly realizing that in fact I didn’t know. “But I’m gonna go find out.” I turned to her as she opened the little door of the hansom. “You’ll be okay, Kat? I mean, about Ding Dong and all?”
“Him?” she answered. “He’ll be lucky if he even sees me before I pull this off. Let him have his little twelve-year-olds—I’m goin’ to California!”
“You’d better write to your aunt first,” I advised. “Make sure she’s still there, and that it’s all okay.”
“I already thought of that,” Kat answered, stepping off the curb. “I’m gonna do it tonight.” She paused before boarding the hansom to give me a hug. “Thanks, Stevie,” she whispered into my ear. “You’re a friend, and that’s the truth.” Pulling back, she glanced at the Doctor’s house once more. “And you was right about your boss—he’s a decent soul, sure enough. Though he looks like one of the Devil’s own, that I will say!”
I wanted badly to kiss her, but she hopped into the cab, waving the few dollars I’d passed along to her up at the driver. “Hudson Street, cabbie—and take your blasted time, I wanna enjoy the ride!”
The cabbie cracked his whip, Kat gave me a little wave, and then she turned around to take in the avenue. She looked for all the world like she owned the city—and that made me smile.
I turned and ran back to the house as the cab disappeared, wanting to know what in the world the detective sergeants had been talking about.
CHAPTER 20
Coming back into the house, I almost ran headlong into Dr. Kreizler, who was standing outside his small examination room holding the paregoric bottle what I’d left in the kitchen. He launched into a bit of a lecture about my taking it on myself to dispense narcotics: it seemed that paregoric was an opiate, which explained why it was so effective on both colicky babies and the desperate Kat. I told him I had no idea it was so strong, being as anybody could buy it just about anywhere. He answered that he understood why I’d been driven to make use of it, given Kat’s condition (which he, like the detective sergeants, had quickly detected); still, he didn’t want me taking any more medicines out of the examination room without his permission, as he didn’t much like the thought that he’d have to start locking stuff up.
This deserved but no less unpleasant lecture was cut short by the sound of the doorbell. Its two tones, produced by a small electricity-driven hammer striking a pair of long pipes in the vestibule, were particularly loud, given as we were so close, and they startled both myself and the Doctor. He sealed up the paregoric bottle tight, then put it into his examination room and said only, “I hope we understand each other, Stevie.” I assured him that we did, and then he headed for the vestibule.
Before he’d even opened the front door, I could hear Miss Howard’s protesting voice coming through