Phantoms In Philadelphia (20 page)

“Peter will carry out the deed, as he has been
successful in past tasks.” The man who had opened the door puffed
out his chest.

“Should any of you be captured, remain silent. We
will see to your release. Should you talk, you will meet your
end.”

Levitas had men in high places if they were able to
break the ruffians out of confinement. Our allies in the constables
would have to be warned. Nicholas left after explaining how payment
would be received, and he handed slips of paper to Peter.

When the door shut behind Nicholas, Peter handed out
the slips of paper. Most of the men sat on the floor discussing
what to do, but one small man said he had to return to his berth.
He left but would not make it far.

I unfolded the slip of paper in my hand and held it
up against the only window in the room to make out the address. I
sucked in a breath that did nothing to dispel the churning in my
gut. The address belonged to Charles Knowlton.

One of the men asked Peter who the victim was. I had
not yet considered that it would be one of the guests that the men
would harm. Alarm for my mother and sister struck me like a slap.
If it were a party at the Knowlton’s, my family would be invited.
My mother and sister would be in harm’s way. I had to get those men
in chains.

“Ye jest worry ‘bout yer own work an’ let me worry
‘bout mine.”

“Come on, Pete, share with yer mates.”

Peter looked around at the anxious faces; then his
chest expanded again. “He’s a man of position, but that’s all I be
sayin’.”

A man of position? That could be any number of men
in society.

One of the men pulled a pipe from his pocket and
went outside to smoke. I needed to speak with my team, so I pulled
my own pipe from my pocket. It was a pipe that Pierre gave me
through Bess the morning he was captured. I followed the other man
out. My meerschaum pipe was a piece of fine craftsmanship with a
carved head of Zeus. I had never used it before, but for some
unexplainable reason, I felt like bringing it with me on the
mission.

The other man leaned against the house and watched
me as I lit the pipe with flint, then allowed a few moments to pass
in silence and clouds of smoke.

“Be there any taverns near, I am in need of a hearty
drink,” I asked in a gruff, but conversational tone.

The man named two within walking
distance and added his recommendation to stay away from the
dockside tavern. “You’ll meet only cutthroats there.”

Motioning with my pipe, I repeated the directions,
and as I did I felt my pipe stem turn. Keeping the pipe in hand, I
turned the stem until I felt something click. I raised the pipe to
my lips, but no smoke came forth. I held up the pipe, looking at
the stem and the other man also stared at the pipe, stepping before
me to watch what I was doing.

Somehow the stem was jammed. I raised the stem to my
lips, and blew. Something small flew from the front of the pipe and
the man before me grunted and raised his hand to his neck, but it
never made it. He staggered back and slid down the bricks of the
house. Sticking out of his neck was a tiny dart.

Pierre’s instructions were to use it well. I knelt
beside him, feeling around for his heart beat. Nothing. Slowly I
leaned back on my heels. The man was dead. I pulled the dart from
his neck to inspect it. Leave it to Pierre to have a pipe that shot
poisonous darts.

Someone came up behind me, and I turned quickly.
Jericho stared down at me, his wolf mask giving him a sinister
appearance, but it gave me relief. I signaled for Jericho to take
the man’s legs and together we lifted the man and carried him to
the end of the houses where we lowered him against the wall.

“We caught that fellow who left. He is snugly bound
and awaiting transport.”

“Did Artemis follow Nicholas?”

“Aye, and will return when she knows where he has
gone,” Jericho replied.

“Good, now let us get to work. There are only four
men in the house.”

Bess grabbed my arm. “Loutaire, the man who opened
the door, I recognized him.” She inhaled a deep breath. “He was the
same man who struck Andrew the night of the musical.”

So that was it. Peter was one of the men from the
black carriage. An even greater desire to capture him covered me.
Leo and Levi joined us, and the four of us moved toward the
assassins’ house, leaving Bess to guard the wagon. I put my mask on
and even though the assassins had seen my face, I was wearing a
beard that disguised the true shape of my face.

I opened the door to the house and
walked in followed by my team. As Jericho closed the door, the four
assassins stared at us for a moment before leaping to their feet.
They knew whom we were without us having to say a word. It was four
against four. A fair enough fight. Peter charged straight for me,
but I raised my pistol. He slid to a halt, but it did not stop him
as I had planned. He slammed his palm against the side of my
pistol, and as it jerked in my hand, my finger struck the trigger
and it exploded, the sound nearly deafening in the small room. One
of the assassins sunk to the ground and Leo looked from the body to
me then
laughed
. I
would have laughed if Peter had not chosen that moment to grab me
around the neck and slam my back against the wall. I reached my
left hand out and grabbed the back of his head and jerked it toward
me, then jammed my right thumb into his eye socket. He cursed,
spraying my face with spit, and released me. I ducked and went to
move around him, but his hand shot out and grabbed my beard. My
head jerked for an instant before a sharp pain shot through my face
as the paste ripped away from my skin. Peter held the beard in his
hand and looked down at it then to me. I took his momentary shock
to my advantage, throwing my fist against his stomach. He grunted,
dropping the beard. I struck him again. When he hunched over, I
grabbed his shoulder and pulled him toward me as my knee came up
against his groin. Leo gave me his pistol, so I placed the barrel
against Peter’s chin then motioned for him to sit. I never took my
eyes from him as he stared down the barrel of the gun.

“I will shoot you and rid the world of your
presence,” I said to him, as I could see that he was trying to
decide if he could be faster than I could pull the trigger.

Behind us, the sounds punches
exchanged echoed through the small room. Jericho, with a bloodied
nose, came up beside me and
pulled a cord
of rope from his pocket. I kept the pistol on Peter while Jericho
tied his hands. I told Jericho where to find the paper with Peter’s
instructions on it. Jericho pulled it out of Peter’s pocket, but
Peter growled and threw his forehead against Jericho’s head. I
turned my pistol in my hand and slammed the butt against Peter’s
head, twice. Peter’s back slid down the wall, but he was still
conscious. I turned my pistol and pointed it again at him, but
glanced at Jericho. He was shaking his head, dazed, and when his
eyes were again focused, he took a step toward Peter.

“See to the others,” I said, motioning over my
shoulder with my head.

Jericho sneered at Peter before moving to where Levi
was still fighting one of the men. Jericho grabbed the man around
the neck and pulled him against his chest as he waited for the man
to lose consciousness. Levi wiped blood from his busted lip. His
red eye would turn black. Leo moved to my side as I unfolded
Peter’s paper.

Target-J.M. Remove body. Carry to SM where payment
will be received.

My mind moved through all the
people I knew with those initials, then my eyes slid shut as my
heart thumped against my chest. Other than myself, there were two
men I knew of with those initials, but only one was frequenting
Philadelphia
. James Monroe.
I turned back to Peter. He was smiling at me like
he was happy about something.

“You smile, but we have the advantage of knowing
Levitas’ plans, and now that I have you, there will be no more
disappearances.” Peter’s grin fell from his mouth.

Once the assassins were bound and loaded in Levi’s
wagon, I took a black feather from my pocket and tucked it into the
pocket of one of the men. Stepping back, the wagon moved away. Levi
and Leo were escorting them to the constables while Jericho, Bess
and I waited for Mariah to return.

Ten minutes later, Mariah came running up the path.
“I did as you instructed, Raven. He is at the house of Mr. Calvert
on Chestnut.”

Bess laid her hand on my shoulder, pressing it for a
moment in silent blessing. I turned to look at Jericho. “Take them
home, this next task I do alone.”

Jack

T
he ride
to Chestnut Street was brief, as we were on that side of town. I
hitched Brutus to a post and ran through an alley, coming out on
Chestnut across the street from the house that I sought. The first
floor windows were all boarded up, making the house appear both
deserted and eerie. A flash of white passed the upstairs window,
and I smiled, pulling out my pistol. I ran across the street and
opened the unlocked front door. All was black, but there was light
coming from one of the rooms above stairs. Then I heard their
voices.

“Have you done yet?” Nicholas demanded.

“No, and I will not if you keep plaguing me to make
haste. Five minutes is all I require,” Hannah replied, exasperation
filling her voice.

“Five minutes will be too late.”

“What have you done?” Hannah demanded in a shrill
tone.

“Set fire to the house. No one steals from Levitas!”
Nicholas’s voice was high pitched, hysterical.

“Then you must let me be about my task!”

“Well, I shall not await you to be burned to death,”
Nicholas shouted. I edged against the wall in the shadows as
Nicholas appeared at the top of the stairs and nearly ran down in
his haste to flee the house.

Considering my best course of action lasted only a
minute before I saw smoke filtering into the room from the back of
the house. An orange light was vibrant and flickered through the
crack beneath the door. I ran up the stairs, not caring if Hannah
heard me.

She was on her knees before a strong box, her white
cloak covering her entirely. A lit lantern was on the dirty floor
beside her, and she did not appear to be aware of my presence. She
gave a small cry as she pulled open the strong box door. She took a
long black box from inside, pulled off the lid and reverently
reached for a silver chalice. The woman hugged it to her breast
before placing it in a burlap sack. Holding my pistol before me, I
moved to stand behind her. I placed the barrel against the back of
her head. She stiffened completely. I reached over her shoulder and
took the sack from her grasp.

“Stand!” I demanded. She slowly stood with her back
to me. “Walk,” I said, pressing the barrel harder against her. She
edged around me and walked to the small landing at the top of the
stairs.

Below was a mixture of smoke and flames as the fire
was spreading at an alarming rate. I was considering the best means
of escape, when Hannah turned quick, knocking the gun from my hand.
She grabbed the bag and ran down the stairs.

Halfway down the stairs gave out, and she tumbled
forward, landing in a heap at the bottom. The chalice landed a few
feet away from her.

I shook the banister and found it sound, so with a
deep breath I hopped on and slid quickly down. My feet landed above
her head. The hem of her cloak was caught on the bottom step,
burning. I could grab the chalice and run, let her get herself out
of the house, but when I looked down at her back and the cloak
covering her like a cocoon she was not moving. I quickly stamped
out the flames on her cloak with my boots then lifted her still
form and tossed her over my shoulder. The smoke was a fog, hiding
the door from me. Moving forward slowly, my boot hit the sack with
the chalice, so I scooped it up and inched forward until I found
the door. Using the sack on the hot knob, I threw open the
door.

As I leapt from the house, I gasped for fresh air,
but the smoke coming from the house behind me made me cough. I ran
across the street carrying the white phantom who had started
coughing against my shoulder. I needed to get her away from the
fire and out of that burned cloak.

She started to wiggle in my hold, but I held on
until we were midway into a dark alley. The bells of the fire
brigade sounded in the distance as I set her on her feet. I started
to untangle the cloak, but as soon as her arms were free, she
grabbed the sack from me and started to run. She made it five steps
before I caught her and pinned her against a brick wall. There was
a glow at the end of the alley from the brightness of the fire, but
she and I were standing in the shadows. I could not see her face,
but I was beginning to see a pattern with her. I held her arms
against the wall and clicked my tongue. She growled in frustration
and tried to hit my head with her own.

A deep laugh passed my lips but turned into a cough.
She jerked up her knee, but I was faster. I jumped back, releasing
her and barely missing the attack that was meant to pain me. She
took advantage of her free state by running again. I ran after her,
grabbing her arm and tossing her against the wall again, only this
time I did more than pin her in place. I leaned down and placed my
lips against hers.

She struggled so violently that I lifted my head. I
felt a pang of remorse for having taken advantage of the
situation––until she got a hand free and slapped my cheek so hard
my ears rang. I did not know why I had kissed her, but the woman
brought out a different side of me. I grabbed her wrist and forced
it down, shaking my head to dispel the ringing.