A Riddle Of Red & Black

1. The Mystery of Midnight

I finished arranging the last handful of padding around my waist, as I checked for the millionth time that I had well and truly locked my bedroom door. The padding was hot and uncomfortable but at least it did its job. When I glanced at the full length mirror angled elegantly besides my bedside table, all I could see was the dark mysterious form of a person whose gender was indistinguishable. Perfect.

To tidy up any misconceptions, I do not dress up as man for pleasure. In my line of work, the less they know or see of you, the better. My long, blonde locks were currently folded neatly up under a short, unkempt, black wig on top of which perched a scruffy, old hat. I was dressed in working men's clothes, wearing a terribly restrictively corset beneath the shirt and padding around my small waist to artfully distract from my womanly features. A long dark overcoat, that ended at my knees, black, featureless trousers and scuffed boots completed my ensemble and I smiled at how unrecognizable I was. To add to the final effect, I smudged some coal dust on my face from my tin on the dresser. You never know when coal dust will come in handy.

Satisfied, I grabbed the folded note off my dressing table and scanned through the words again, committing them to memory.

' Operative; 31

2, 8 o clock, beef-outdoordwelling, observation of small meeting'

The handwriting was curvy and rushed, with long confident strokes. Naturally a result of Horatio's fine penmanship, I thought with a faint smile. I folded it up into a miniscule square before tossing it on the fire, roaring away merrily in the grate on the far side of my bedroom. It immediately blackened, turning to ash and disintegrating.

I didn't even know why Horatio bothered encrypting his messages, considering their obvious interpretations. Today was Tuesday, the 2nd day of the week and at eight o click, I was required to observe something occurring at the Cow Shed Inn, on the edge of town. He did not need to state the members involved; if there was something peculiar going on, I would know.

"Sarah Elizabeth?"

I sighed at the sound of my mother's voice. Of course the woman could not have picked a more inconvenient time. I cleared my throat.

"Yes, mother?" I let my voice jump up to a higher, more girlish pitch.

"Lord Stanley has invited us around to dinner on Thursday night. You and I are to attend together. How fun!"

I resisted the urge to sigh yet again.

"Yes, that's fine, mother!" I shouted, hoping my answer would be enough. I could hear her footsteps idling on the other side of my bedroom door.

"I hear Byrant will be attending," she said, after a moment's hesitation.

Oh no. Once she got started on the subject of my suitors, she was unstoppable. Having shown no interest in any of the few men that had shown an interest in me, she was beginning to worry that I would never find a husband. I had no time for such trivial pursuits, with my various other covert activities, but my mother seemed unable to think of anything else.

"He's an insufferable, arrogant toad," I replied bluntly and I heard a sharp intake of breath erupted from the door.

"Sarah Elizabeth! You know such language is not ladylike!"

I rolled my eyes but apologized dutifully. A silence broke out during which I rubbed the coal dust into my face, before remembering to clatter some books to back up my alibi.

"Is that all?" I called impatiently.

"I suppose so. But you and I must visit the dressmakers tomorrow. We simply must have something befitting of our status for the dinner party and I am afraid that my entire wardrobe is now outdated!"