prim mouth and a pinched, nickel-counting look about the eye.
“Simeon Gage,” he announced as we shook hands.
“Timothy Wilde. I’m from the star police.”
“I can see that. What’s it to do with us?”
“Might you take me to your office? It’s a private matter.”
His mazzard congealed in the way that means,
If it’s bribes you’re after, please be sane about the figure.
But he led me into a room at the back of the giant workspace, indicating a chair across from a desk with a messy stack of ledgers and time sheets and insurance forms resting on it. We sat.
“Busy day?” I angled my eyes at the paperwork.
“I take care of some of the alderman’s more tedious filing,” Gage replied, chest ballooning. “He is a personage of great importance. You might call me—as a trusted overseer, you understand—one of his secretaries. Accounts payable, contracts, policy renewals, and the like. I can barely keep up at the moment. Let alone manage those witless hens out there.”
I smiled. Not amiably. “Are you familiar with a former employee of this establishment, a Miss Sally Woods?”
He shifted his priggish lips. “Aye.”
“What can you tell me about her?”
“She’s trouble.”
“What variety?”
“The worst I can think of.” He scraped backward in his chair dramatically, tugging his waistcoat down. “I was a tailor before this modern system unmanned me. When I was down on my luck, with no orders coming in and otherwise respectable people thinking nothing of wearing ready-made slops, Mr. Symmes gave me a boost out of the mire. So by trouble I mean the sort of trouble every fellow fears most—the sort that’ll strip him of his dignity. No respect whatsoever for the natural order, for authority, for rules, for Mr. Symmes. She worked hard enough, for a girl anyway, but she’s ruinous otherwise. Educated, you know,” he added, picking at one of his fingernails.
I made a hare-quick decision to spend as little time as was possible with Simeon Gage.
“I need to speak with an Ellie Abell. Is she here?”
“Sure enough.” He narrowed his eyes, measuring.
I waited.
That went on for a spell.
“I’ll just bring her in, then?” he sneered.
“Aces, I’d appreciate it.”
He departed with an audible level of annoyance in his footfalls. When he returned, it was with an apple-cheeked beauty with light ash-brown hair, full lips, and a pair of golden eyes that radiated fear.
“Thank you for seeing me, Miss Abell,” I said. “Mr. Gage, I’ll show myself out when I’m through.”
An eyebrow as bushy as his pate was hairless reared upward. “If it’s to do with Miss Abell here, then it’s company business, isn’t it?”
Miss Abell’s mouth twitched, the door of a safe slamming shut.
“You’ll probably want to give us some privacy,” I objected, “unless the manufactory is after a hefty fine.”
“What in hell would you
fine
us over?”
“I’m a pretty imaginative sort. I’d puzzle it out.”
Purpling with vexation, Gage made an effort to slice me open with his eyeballs. He wasn’t any too successful. But his heart was in it, bless the man.
“
Much
obliged for your cooperation, Mr. Gage. I’ll make sure Tammany hears of it.”
I wouldn’t. But that tipped the scales into Simeon Gage’s exiting his office, yanking his door shut so hard than a pen on his desk toppled out of its stand. Reaching, I returned it to its home.
“Please sit down, Miss Abell.” I took my hat off and gestured at Gage’s chair behind the desk. She sat as gingerly as if requested to perch on a fence post. “My name is Timothy Wilde. You’re in no scrape here, I promise. I just want to ask a few questions for your own safety.”
“For
my
safety?”
“I was sent by a Miss Sally Woods.”
Her fetchingly ample cheeks paled, followed by a look of dull horror she smothered so quick it might never have been there. “What’s Sally up to now, then? What’s she keen to bring on our
“Simeon Gage,” he announced as we shook hands.
“Timothy Wilde. I’m from the star police.”
“I can see that. What’s it to do with us?”
“Might you take me to your office? It’s a private matter.”
His mazzard congealed in the way that means,
If it’s bribes you’re after, please be sane about the figure.
But he led me into a room at the back of the giant workspace, indicating a chair across from a desk with a messy stack of ledgers and time sheets and insurance forms resting on it. We sat.
“Busy day?” I angled my eyes at the paperwork.
“I take care of some of the alderman’s more tedious filing,” Gage replied, chest ballooning. “He is a personage of great importance. You might call me—as a trusted overseer, you understand—one of his secretaries. Accounts payable, contracts, policy renewals, and the like. I can barely keep up at the moment. Let alone manage those witless hens out there.”
I smiled. Not amiably. “Are you familiar with a former employee of this establishment, a Miss Sally Woods?”
He shifted his priggish lips. “Aye.”
“What can you tell me about her?”
“She’s trouble.”
“What variety?”
“The worst I can think of.” He scraped backward in his chair dramatically, tugging his waistcoat down. “I was a tailor before this modern system unmanned me. When I was down on my luck, with no orders coming in and otherwise respectable people thinking nothing of wearing ready-made slops, Mr. Symmes gave me a boost out of the mire. So by trouble I mean the sort of trouble every fellow fears most—the sort that’ll strip him of his dignity. No respect whatsoever for the natural order, for authority, for rules, for Mr. Symmes. She worked hard enough, for a girl anyway, but she’s ruinous otherwise. Educated, you know,” he added, picking at one of his fingernails.
I made a hare-quick decision to spend as little time as was possible with Simeon Gage.
“I need to speak with an Ellie Abell. Is she here?”
“Sure enough.” He narrowed his eyes, measuring.
I waited.
That went on for a spell.
“I’ll just bring her in, then?” he sneered.
“Aces, I’d appreciate it.”
He departed with an audible level of annoyance in his footfalls. When he returned, it was with an apple-cheeked beauty with light ash-brown hair, full lips, and a pair of golden eyes that radiated fear.
“Thank you for seeing me, Miss Abell,” I said. “Mr. Gage, I’ll show myself out when I’m through.”
An eyebrow as bushy as his pate was hairless reared upward. “If it’s to do with Miss Abell here, then it’s company business, isn’t it?”
Miss Abell’s mouth twitched, the door of a safe slamming shut.
“You’ll probably want to give us some privacy,” I objected, “unless the manufactory is after a hefty fine.”
“What in hell would you
fine
us over?”
“I’m a pretty imaginative sort. I’d puzzle it out.”
Purpling with vexation, Gage made an effort to slice me open with his eyeballs. He wasn’t any too successful. But his heart was in it, bless the man.
“
Much
obliged for your cooperation, Mr. Gage. I’ll make sure Tammany hears of it.”
I wouldn’t. But that tipped the scales into Simeon Gage’s exiting his office, yanking his door shut so hard than a pen on his desk toppled out of its stand. Reaching, I returned it to its home.
“Please sit down, Miss Abell.” I took my hat off and gestured at Gage’s chair behind the desk. She sat as gingerly as if requested to perch on a fence post. “My name is Timothy Wilde. You’re in no scrape here, I promise. I just want to ask a few questions for your own safety.”
“For
my
safety?”
“I was sent by a Miss Sally Woods.”
Her fetchingly ample cheeks paled, followed by a look of dull horror she smothered so quick it might never have been there. “What’s Sally up to now, then? What’s she keen to bring on our
Similar Books
