I Went Down (NaNoWriMo Read-Along)

41 Dapper Jack

In an upper room of the Aviary, Jack washed and shaved. The girls clucked over him as he dressed and offered to trim his hair, but he waved them off. Instead, he combed the ends back, tucking those strands that were long enough behind his ears. He settled his hat back on his head to hold his hair in place. In the mirror, he could see shadows of the long night under his eyes, and echoes of his grandfather in the hollows of his cheeks. He was no longer a yearling colt, to run back and forth across the Plain without a second thought. Behind him, he saw the Aviary’s mistress enter the room, holding a long, slim box of white cardboard. Jack recognized it without seeing the golden filigree on the lid, for he had sent one of the Aviary’s errand boys, a wry little creature nearly as cheeky as Rupert’s, to Orlin’s Haberdashery with a wad of cash tucked into his pocket.

He opened it and unfolded Orlin’s signature black tissue paper to reveal its contents.

“Red?” Madame Tanager lifted one penciled eyebrow. “That’s very daring, even for you, my dear.”

Dapper Jack slid his right hand into the first glove and made a fist. As much color as this rainy city had leached from his skin, his hands were especially pale in comparison to the Plainsmen who had never left the Plain. “It seemed appropriate,” he said.

She frowned as he put the second glove on, but did not say anything. Jack smoothed the tissue paper back into the box. As he closed it, Howser came in through the half-open door. Jack turned away from the mirror. “Almost done.”

Howser took in the red gloves. “Sparrow said you came in dusty.”

“I was out on the Plain last night.”

“You were?” Howser shot a glance at Madame Tanager, who looked down demurely at the empty box on the table.

When Jack did not reply, she picked it up. “I’ll just take this out of your way,” she said, and made a graceful exit.

When she had closed the door behind her, Howser took a step closer to Jack. “Baccarat?” he asked softly.

Dapper Jack went to the coat rack and pulled out the handful of rings he had taken from the rail magnate’s fingers. He opened his palm and showed them to Howser. Jack set the rings on the table while Howser shook his head in wonder.

“Saints be merciful,” he said in a half-whisper. He reached out and touched one of the rings, a thick piece of red gold fashioned in the shape of a railroad spike and twisted into a circle. “Jackdaw, is it over? Are we done?”

“I still have to tell Mister Primrose,” Jack said. “I wanted you and Keifer to come along.”

“I’ll get him.” Howser took a half-step towards the door and paused, bouncing a little on his feet. “Right now?”

How much longer should the Plains wait? “Yes, right now.”

Among the old gold and smooth gemstones, the rock Jack had picked up beside the train was a dusty lump. He picked it up between two fingers and brushed the dirt from it before putting it into his pants pocket. The rings he returned to the pocket of his coat before he shrugged it on and picked up his satchel.

Sinclair’s successor whistled up the tender as soon as Dapper Jack stepped onto the tar stained planks of the dock. The oarsman scowled a little at the three men stepping into his little craft, but he bent his back to the task and it was not long before they were climbing up onto the lower deck of the Princess Carylla.

He climbed up the stairs to the second deck and then to the third and highest level. At the top he stopped. Was it only yesterday that he had walked out of the salon, heading to Minnie’s, and then out onto the Plain, Jimmy’s will made into a live-edged blade? The damp mist settled in droplets on his skin. He turned around and looked at Howser and Keifer. They were both solid Plainsmen, tall and loose-limbed as horses, hook-nosed like hawks that soared over the Plain of Angiers and watched for the moment to swoop and make a kill. He saw Keifer’s hand begin to reach for his knife and then stop. Jack wanted his own knife in his hand, but he left it tucked into his belt. When he needed it, it would be there. He could feel its familiar shape and pressure in the small of his back. There was the soft weight of the satchel over his shoulder, and in his pocket, a little bit of luck from the saints.

He took a deep breath and tried not to breath out too gustily. Howser set his hand on Jack’s upper arm for a brief moment and nodded.

There was neither use nor sense in delaying any longer. Jack turned back to the door and opened it.

In the salon, Jimmy Primrose was sitting where Jack had left him the day before, in the same place near the window. Reinhold and Darvin were with him, and a thin man with a large ledger book. They all looked up at the sound of the door, except for Reinhold, who was staring at the ledger with a crease of intense concentration on his forehead.

“Jack!” Jimmy stood up eagerly. “What news? Is he done for?”

Reinhold lifted his gaze away from the ledger, though he kept a finger on his place in the book.

Dapper Jack put one hand into his pocket and pulled out Baccarat’s rings. He stepped forward and spilled them on the table. The golden railroad spike spun a little and fell onto the ledger. Reinhold pulled his hand away as if it were a snake but Jimmy reached for it immediately.

“So long, Baxter,” he said.

“I killed the girl, too.”

Jimmy was examining the ring. It was loose on his ring finger and he slipped it onto his middle finger instead. “Darvin,” he said, “you can let Hartley know that I’ll be needing him to start taking over operations at the station. Jack, you and Howser can work with the business-owners along the Ornette—”

“I killed the girl,” Jack repeated. “The Ibai girl at Cal’s.”

A scowl flickered briefly over Jimmy’s face. “That’s neither here nor there.” He turned to the thin man. “You can take the book away.”

Jack swept the book from the table. The remaining rings scattered through the air, catching the pale light as they arced and fell into the salon’s soft carpet. “I killed her for you, without even knowing her name. I killed Baccarat for you. I killed three other men who fled the train last night. Last week I killed two men for you. Henock and Laney. Do you remember them?”

They were all staring at him, Jimmy and Reinhold and Darvin. The thin man was edging away from the table, toward where the ledger had fallen.

“Now, Jackdaw,” Jimmy began, but Jack leaned across the the table to grab his lapel with one hand.

“No.” His knife was already in his other hand. “The railroad is not for you.” He laid the blade below Jimmy’s ear and pulled. Blood began to pour from Jimmy’s throat. Jack’s hands were already red. “The Plain is not for you.” There was a high keening and a rich flood of Pel curses filled the room. Howser and Keifer would take care of it.

Jimmy gurgled something and began to tilt forward onto the table. Blood soaked the front of his shirt and his suit jacket. Jack grabbed Jimmy’s hair to pull his whitening face upwards again and made a second deep slice on the other side of his throat. “I am not for you.” When he let go, Jimmy fell face first onto the table.

Jack turned around to see Keifer thrust his knife into Darvin’s back. The Pelagoan had nearly made it to the door of the salon. Reinhold was already dead at Howser’s hand. Only the thin man lay whimpering on the floor.

“What now?” Howser asked.

“They’re going to form a federation,” Jack said. “The Federation of Angiers. The Plainsmen will be the ones to control the Plain, and the railroad.”

“And us?”

Jack wiped his knife on Jimmy’s motionless back and tucked it away. From his satchel he pulled out the last two smoke bombs. “Now," he said, "we set these off and run.”