Bloody Relations by Don Gutteridge Page A

shaken by the discovery of the missing key. Marc could almost hear the wheels turning in her head.
    â€œDo you have any idea who might have taken it or when?”
    Mrs. Burgess shook her head.
    â€œWhen did you last check to see if it was still in place?”
    â€œI do so every few days,” she said with some of her former defiance. “The safety of my girls is uppermost in my mind. It was there two days ago.”
    â€œDid any of you girls see anyone who might have taken it in the past two days?”
    They too shook their heads.
    Finally it was Molly who spoke, looking not at Marc but at her mistress. “It could’ve been Michael, couldn’t it, Mum?”
    â€œMichael?” Marc exclaimed. “Who in hell is Michael?”
    Mrs. Burgess reddened. “I suppose I must tell you. I didn’t see how it was of any importance earlier.”
    â€œTell me what?”
    â€œAbout Michael Badger. He’s our bruiser. But I sent him packing yesterday morning.”
    This announcement elicited cries of surprise from the girls and a gaggle of questions. Once they were calmed enough to listen to a rational explanation, Marc and Cobb leaned forward with fresh anticipation to hear what the mistress of the house had to say now.
    â€œPlease continue,” Marc prompted, gently but firmly.
    â€œMichael’s the young man who’s been acting as our bruiser off and on since last fall.”
    â€œA bruiser’s usually a big fella who keeps the customers from flippin’ their wigs or bustin’ their flies,” Cobb explained to Marc. “Most of the cathouses and some of the rougher waterin’ holes keep one or two on a leash.”
    â€œAnd Badger was this sort of protector?” Marc asked.
    â€œYes,” Mrs. Burgess said. “Not that we needed much, mind. You’ve probably been wondering why I spent good money to buy land here and build an expensive residence for the trade.”
    â€œThat question had entered my mind.”
    â€œWell, the answer is simple. It’s safer in here than in the town. We haven’t got any policemen or sheriff to protect us in here, but we look out for one another. We got rules and we got people who will help see that they’re followed.”
    â€œWhy the bruiser, then?”
    â€œAll of our callers are gentlemen, so we have little trouble there. But whenever a ship arrives or some hooligan’s just come into cash from thieving or gambling, sailors and the like come pounding on our doors and cursing at our windows, annoyed when they can’t get in and threatening to wreak havoc. So, whenever we suspect there might be that sort of trouble, I send for Michael and he comes for the duration.”
    â€œAnd he was intimidating enough to scare off any troublemakers?”
    The girls whooped at this, and for the first time Marc caught a glimpse of the happier, youthful side of their personalities that had been cowed by grief and fear.
    â€œHe was a big fella?” Cobb asked, which excited more giggles.
    â€œMichael Badger is as tall as Mr. Edwards and a foot broader in the shoulders,” Mrs. Burgess said. “And he’s got a shock oforange hair as wild and shaggy as a lion’s mane. One look at him and they’d run like rabbits.”
    â€œWere you not worried that he’d intimidate your clients or pose a danger to the girls here?”
    This comment induced more tittering.
    â€œIn here, Michael was a softie, wasn’t he, Mum?” Molly said.
    Mrs. Burgess paused before saying, “I gave him strict instructions about his duties and deportment when I first took him on. I realized that the girls might be a temptation to him, so I specifically warned him that they were off limits. If he was desperate for a woman, I told him he could go on up to Madame Charlotte’s and I’d pay the fare. I offered him a wage he couldn’t hope to make anywhere else in the