The Angel of Darkness - Caleb Carr [225]
Before I could let him go to the rest he so richly deserved, though, I had to find out whether he’d actually been in touch with Kat and, if he had, what the outcome’d been. As he was unsteadily scrubbing his teeth in his bathroom after pouring half a tin of Sozodont powder over his brush and into the sink, I snuck on in and put the questions. His mouth foaming like a mad dog’s, Mr. Moore told me that yes, he’d met up with Kat outside Duster territory and informed her about our predicament, then asked if she’d be willing to keep a watchful eye on Ana Linares. Kat’d demanded money for her services, making it seem certain to me that all we’d given her, and probably the train ticket too, had gone to Ding Dong; but Mr. Moore said that such wasn’t the case, that Kat’d shown him the ticket and told him that she was just waiting for word from her aunt before setting out for California. When I asked Mr. Moore if he thought Kat was still blowing the burny, he answered that he hadn’t been able to tell, in a nervous way what made it plain he was lying; but I decided that all I had time or energy to do was take heart from the fact that Kat still had the train ticket and was still willing to work for us. The rest I’d have to cope with when we got back to New York.
Mr. Picton had prepared us for the possibility that some of the townsfolk of Ballston Spa would take an interest in the activities of the deliberative body what was slated to convene on Friday morning at eleven in the smaller wing chamber of the county court house; but we weren’t at all ready (and I don’t think he was, either) for the sight that greeted us when we rolled up to the building in the surrey. There must’ve been a hundred people of every age, size, and description on the steps and lawn of the place, milling around like so many hungry chickens. The guard Henry was at the top of the steps barring the entrance, being as the activities of grand juries are not open to the public (a fact what many of those would-be spectators were obviously unaware of). But the big, horse-faced Henry seemed to be talking sympathetically with the crowd as much as holding them at bay. And the closer we got, the clearer it became that the general mood among all of them—Henry included—was not a happy one.
“Oh, good,” Mr. Picton said, as he reined his horse to a halt. Then he huffed in an irritated manner, causing his pipe to shoot sparks upward. “I was so hoping that my fellow citizens would take an interest in the proceedings—nothing like the public getting involved in the affairs of government, especially when they’re too ignorant to know at what point they’re not allowed to be involved!” He brought the surrey to a halt and, picking up one of the several big stacks of books and files what were sitting on the floor under the driver’s bench, jumped down to the street. “I’d advise you not to fetch Clara alone, Dr. Kreizler,” he said, as the Doctor moved up from the back to the front seat. “God knows how many more of these people have come out to offer their opinions in other parts of town.”
“It’s all very well to joke,” Lucius said, wiping his forehead, which was shining bright in the hot morning sun. “But you will be careful, Doctor? The girl is the key to our case, after all.”
“Yes, Detective Sergeant,” the Doctor answered. “And a good deal more than that. No harm will come to her or to anyone else, I pledge you that.”
“And so does EI Niño!” declared the aborigine, at which I smiled to the detective sergeant.
“And so does El Niño,” I said, clicking my tongue at Mr. Picton’s horse and starting us slowly on our way.
As we drove, we turned to keep an eye on the other four as they made their way through the crowd in front of the court house, Mr. Picton’s pipe still blazing like the smokestack of a forge as he greeted faces he recognized with a cheeriness what couldn’t have been more phony. “Ah, Mr. Grose, I am relieved to see a representative of our Weekly Journal—and the editor himself! This is truly gratifying! A man in my line of work rarely experiences