The Young Lady is a Reborn Assassin

Max sent us a letter the next day that revealed some more about the redevelopment project. As he said, there wasn’t much to go on. His Brother wasn’t one of the people holding the reins and making the decisions. He was a smaller investor who was brought along for the ride to provide liquidity.

That didn’t mean I was out of options. There was one other avenue I could take to get information about what was going on in Church Walk. Caius had mentioned it to me during his prolonged stay at the house, though at the time I considered it to be of little importance since all of my problems came to find me.

I organized a carriage ride into the city and took great care not to be seen as I headed to my destination. Tucked away on the second floor of a three-story building was an unassuming metal door. If I didn’t know any better – I would have said that what lay beyond it was a storeroom for one of the businesses that surrounded it. In actuality, this was an apartment occupied by a woman named Gertrude.

According to Caius, she was the only trustworthy information broker he knew. Everyone else was liable to hand out unreliable info for the sake of getting their money, but Gertrude prided herself on sourcing everything she said. She had never led him wrong when it came to working on jobs.

With her close proximity to Church Walk and her interest in getting noble gossip into her portfolio, she became the best option I could find in moving the matter along. All I needed to do was convince her that I was on the level. Easier said than done when I looked like a lost child.

I knocked three times and waited.

At the exact moment when I considered the possibility of her not being home, the slot on the door slid open and revealed a pair of weathered eyes looking directly over my head and to the wall behind me. I cleared my throat and grabbed her attention.

“What do you want? Are you lost?”

“Caius sent me.”

The tired eyes peering through the gap in the door were understandably worried about the diminutive height of the latest patron, but the simple mention of Caius’ name was enough to push aside her caution and unlock it. The older woman pulled it aside and again was forced to confront the fact that I was, in fact, a teenage girl.

“Caius sent you?” she said with no small amount of distaste.

“Caius Willow, yes. I helped him with a pressing matter a while ago and he handed me your address in exchange.”

“Caius is a bloody fool – but I never expected him to compromise me to someone your age...”

“He hasn’t compromised you in the slightest. I believe that you’ll find being friends with me is in your best interest. After all, nobles always have money burning a hole in their pockets.”

She stared long and hard at me, before snapping her fingers.

“Maria Walston-Carter. Am I right in guessing that’s who you are?”

“Well done. I take it that you’ve studied up on me before.”

“Aye, and now I wonder why the hell you’re knocking on my door. This isn’t a place for people like you, even if I were to ignore the more pressing matter of your age.”

“The ‘why’ should be obvious. You’re in the business of information, and I need information about a particular project that’s all the rage around the city these days. I’m willing to pay for it.”

Gertrude was sick of speaking openly through a closed door, so she unlocked it and allowed me to step into the small apartment she called home. That small floor space was further constrained by a maze of stacked papers, books and filing cabinets. I could barely see through to the sitting area by the window, and there was a dining table buried beneath the chaos somewhere.

This was the type of home that a lunatic would create. It was practically unnavigable for anybody but her. It was obvious that she’d flip her lid if I so much as touched or moved any of it without her permission. Those thousands of papers and books and whatever else contained all of the information someone in her line of business would need.

“Working from home may be convenient, but this seems to be a tad overboard.”

Gertrude shut the door behind me and locked it again to keep prying eyes and ears out. Now we could enjoy a candid discussion about what I was looking for from her.

“Out with it then. I don’t want to be caught fraternizing with an influential little lady like you, Goddess knows what that’ll do to my reputation.”

She got over the age hump very quickly. She was all business, perhaps we were even kindred spirits.

“It should be obvious that I’m here to ask for information from you. A situation is developing and I’m helping a friend resolve it.”

“How generous of you.”

“Cedric Roderro is said to be the lead investor of the Church Walk Redevelopment Plan. He has a huge list of fellow businessmen who want a piece of the action. I presume you know all about it. I need to know what you know. What’s going on at Church Walk, any recent events surrounding it, and information about the men who are funding it.”

Gertrude was eager to pour cold water on my request; “Hold on a second there, lass. That kind of info would normally come at a high price, but given recent circumstances I’m not willing to part with it at all.”

I smiled, “If money isn’t enough, I also brought a few documents that you might be interested in. The kind of document that a noble would not appreciate getting into the right hands.”

I reached into my pocket and held out a stack of letters and figures stolen from the blackmail chest. I concluded that keeping all of it was a waste of time and space, so I strategically picked out a certain number of them that covered a wide gamut of bad behaviour. I took one from the stack and handed it to her.

“You’re telling me that you have dirt, lass?”

“Oh, lots of it – actually.”

The scepticism was plain as day on her face, but that changed very quickly once she realized what she was holding. It was a letter sent by the recently departed Lady Rentree, to a bevvy of other nobles, and the writing within that letter was utterly scandalous in nature. Not only was it a piece of evidence that could have put her and them behind bars, but it was also a mud-flinging exercise where they all insulted some other influential people.

“This handwriting is the real thing,” she whispered, “Where in the Goddess’ name did you find this? Did Caius give it to you?”

“He was involved in sourcing it, yes.”

She sighed, “Caius is the only maniac I know who could have pulled that off, or possessed the immense stupidity to try and tangle with Lady Rentree. He’s not sleeping in the bay right now, is he?”

“He is alive and well. He cut his losses and ran to the other side of Walser after all that messy business. Now, what is the reason behind your hesitation?”

Gertrude placed the letter down onto the table; “It’s for your own protection, and mine. It started out like any other rumour I get passed through. A few hours later I was getting desperate pleas from my source not to share it. The only reason that could happen is if it involves a government agency.”

“WISA?”

Gertrude’s mouth dropped. She did not anticipate me guessing that right on the first try. That was a perfectly reasonable explanation. Gertrude was protecting her sources and trying to dodge the most vicious law enforcement around. They could plug a leak with ruthless efficiency - and that would lead them back to her.

Gertrude pinched the bridge of her nose, “Where did you hear that name?”

“Don’t be so dour! As we are all aware, WISA is a public organization that protects Walser from internal threats.”

The sarcasm was biting and Gertrude picked up on my game right away.

“Aye, public. Which is why the average person on the street has no idea that they even bloody exist. Either you’ve been diving into legal documents in the archive, or you’ve had first-hand experience with them. I seem to recall your Father being involved in the Scuncath affair.”

“That is beside the point,” I said, “I’ve made my offer. All the money I can spare and this treasure trove of the finest political blackmail I can muster. I want to know everything about the Church Walk Project. Who’s heading it, who’s funding it, who’s involved on the ground, and how far along it is. I also want to know why WISA is involved.”

“You’re putting me in a horrible spot here, Maria.”

Gertrude was extremely close to cracking and telling me the facts. She was making a calculation in her mind. Was it worth the risk? She couldn’t trust me, that was assumed from the start, which was why I leaned so heavily on giving her a selection of valuable letters as payment. When there was no trust, it was all about the transaction.

There was one other factor for Gertrude to consider. I was a teenager. It was highly unlikely that I would expose her through irresponsible action, and who would take me at my word if I started spreading rumours about WISA poking around Church Walk?

Maria’s picturesque face and small stature were both a blessing and a curse. I could get away with murder because of it, but in a pinch, they tended to pose challenges that made survival more difficult. People naturally trusted me more than they would have otherwise. In the game, Maria would abuse that fact to her advantage constantly and manipulate everyone she met. Gertrude wasn’t going to fall for the puppy dog eyes routine – but that subconscious willingness to trust me was still there.

I sealed the deal by putting down a bundle of cash and the rest of the letters. Gertrude’s temperance finally broke in two.

“Fine! You little devil. I’ll tell you about what happened, but if you so much as say a peep about this to anyone else there’ll be hell to pay!”

Gertrude walked to one of the cabinets and opened a drawer, rifling through an overstuffed selection of beige folders until she found the one she wanted. She laid it out on the table and started to talk through the stuff I already knew. She listed each investor, how much they had supposedly put into the plan, and what their involvement with the project was.

It turned out that only three people were actively helping run the scheme. Cedric, who was at the head of the ship. Sebtland Burton, who was seemingly related to Dalia from the academy, was in charge of greasing palms with the city council. The last name was Concetta Van Walser, whom even Gertrude wasn’t overly familiar with. As far as she could tell, she was the wife of a young man from a cadet branch of the main royal family. She was in charge of selling the idea to the residents and the investors.

But those two names weren’t the ones I needed to worry about. Gertrude had nothing on them beyond their assigned responsibilities, which they executed without dipping their toes into murky waters. Sensing that she wasn’t hitting the areas I was interested in, she put the stuffy papers down and moved into the recent news.

“I can’t say that these are connected for certain – but one of my contacts at the nearby morgue tells me that there’s a whole lot of weird stuff happening. They service Church Walk and the like.”

“What kind of weird?”

“A group of gang members got stabbed to death a few days ago and now the entire district is trying to break into and get the victims back. One of those bodies, the culprit, showed up with skin as pale as paper. He says that WISA agents have been poking around the place and questioning the officers inside.”

“Sounds chaotic, and all conveniently happening within the confines of Church Walk.”

Gertrude frowned, “Gang violence is nothing new – but my contact says that there’s no indication that the killer was involved with any of them. Nobody’s come forward to claim responsibility, but there is a particular group of people who aren’t happy with the Walkers at the moment.”

“Cedric and his investors.”

“That’s right. They’ve been twisting arms and keeping the residents from selling their property, even when Cedric Roderro kept pushing the price up to try and convince them. I think that Robert Van Gervan wants his cut.”

“Bribing him sounds easier than murdering every member of his gang.”

She shrugged, “Who’s to say? They might be trying to intimidate them before offering them any cash, or the whole organization might be so unwieldy and have so many moving parts that they can’t control it.”

Not likely.

Gertrude took my silence as an opportunity to look through her new blackmail, and for an older woman, she certainly got excited like a child on Christmas morning. Her eyes took in every detail, scanning the written word and committing it to memory. She was already coming up with a million ways to monetize that information. She could take some nobles to the cleaners with that kind of material.

“Did he say anything specific about the body?”

“He refused to beyond their complexion – which means that it’s probably the aspect of the case that WISA is interested in.”

“That’s all I need to hear.”

Gertrude was helpful enough, and the combined weight of the money and my blackmail wasn’t a large burden. If these events were all connected to one another, then Cedric was hanging around with some dangerous types. Ideally for Adrian it would mean him getting into legal trouble without having to step out of line to try and kill him directly.

“Thank you very much,” I concluded, “I’ll be sure to put that to good use.”

“As long as you don’t lead anybody back here, lass. Keep an eye out.”

She didn’t have to tell me. I was always paranoid.

Gertrude stopped reading for a moment to open the door and let me out. I was probably the strangest client she’d had thus far during her career. A teenage noble wouldn’t be caught dead around a poor area like this. She said nothing more and slammed it shut behind me as I stepped back out into the stairway.

My visit to the city wasn’t over yet. There was a lot more to be done with the time that I had. It was only a week and a half until the next academy term began, and that would keep us occupied and away from the action for the following three months. That was simply too long to let the issue fester in the background.

I slipped back onto the street and considered what to do next. Getting close to Church Walk itself was not going to be particularly constructive. It was a large district and just because it was the focus of Cedric’s efforts didn’t mean it was worth visiting. Getting access to the body also sounded like a dead end. I originally hoped that Gertrude would know more, but her contact was scared to death of having any leaks traced back to him by WISA.

This was the core issue of being on the outside trying to look in. A list of names was one thing, but finding them and figuring out what made them tick was difficult when they didn’t habitually update people on every moment of their lives via social media. Cedric, Concetta and Sebtland were the targets.

Rather than waste my time chasing after them like a headless chicken, it made more sense to anticipate what Cedric would do next. Gertrude suggested that he was going to bribe Robert Van Gervan to give up his resistance to the project and leave it alone. The solution was obvious. Put myself into the right place at the right time and make sure it didn’t happen.

I also couldn’t lose sight of what Adrian wanted from me. His original ask was only for evidence of his involvement in the monarchists’ stealing the watch and his subsequent kidnapping at the hands of the Scuncath. At first, I presumed that they attacked the homes at random and grabbed whomever they found, but Adrian was extremely adamant that they couldn’t have known he was at the estate during the attack.

Hoffman’s work in getting them organized was worth worrying about. He was a military man, so it was safe to guess that he wouldn’t greenlight that type of ambitious attack without intelligence to use first. Between the two the watch was more pressing, and the canary in the coal mine that I intended to use to out his scheme and confirm Adrian’s fears.

I had to tread carefully. Rampaging through noble society and scuppering development deals wasn’t going to help us. I held myself to a somewhat exacting standard about where and when I would interfere in someone’s life. Without evidence of Cedric’s involvement with the monarchist movement, I could hardly go out of my way to make his existence miserable.

Even then – showing that an influential man or woman was speaking with monarchists was easy. They made up forty percent of parliament and a slightly lower proportion of the population. You were never more than a stone’s throw away from someone who longed for the good old days. Cedric had every reason to curry favour from them when he was trying to execute such an ambitious plan.

I headed out onto the street and pondered my next move. I couldn’t rely on luck to bring me to the doorstep of where the bribery was occurring. My thought process was brought to an abrupt end as a familiar face bumped into me from the front. I felt a petite hand slip into the pocket at the front of my coat and removed the leather purse that was concealed inside.

It was her again, the thief I ran into with Franklin way back when.

This time she’d gotten one over on me while I was distracted. Her instincts were good enough for her to realize that I was aware of what she had stolen from my pocket. Her face filled with panic. She twisted on her heel and made a mad dash down the street, hoping that the rich rube she’d pickpocketed wouldn’t find it in herself to give chase. It might have worked on any other girl.

It was terrible for my cover but I couldn’t let her get away with that. I kept my head low and launched into a pursuit. The thief deftly weaved her way between the large groups of people walking back and forth on the pavement – but I was every bit as experienced with urban pursuits as she was with being an escape artist.

She was younger than me and less athletic. The gap between us was disappearing at an alarming pace. She turned her head back to keep an eye on me between movements, each one confirming her error in succession. I was a bad mark. I was the type of person that a pickpocket wanted to avoid at all costs.

Her youthful stubbornness refused to let her toss the contraband aside to stop me. She took my sprint as a challenge. She hooked a sharp left and ran down an alleyway, rolling beneath a gap in a wooden fence that blocked the two sides. I kept close to the wall and used a nearby trash can to launch myself up and over, landing into a roll and seeing her deer-in-the-headlights expression.

Acting quickly, she went right at the end and down the road. I kept close, edging closer and closer with every stride. I hadn’t even broken a sweat yet – but she was struggling to maintain the frantic pace. Most of her victims would have given up by now.

She had another trick up her sleep. Struggling for traction on the wet paving stones, she started to run a route that I instantly recognized. She was falling into old patterns and relying on a backup plan. What that plan was soon became apparent as she ducked through an archway and headed into an interior courtyard surrounded by homes. She carelessly tossed aside a washing line covered with freshly cleaned sheets to frustrate and entangle me, but the real goal was a fire escape that was under renovation.

The thief clambered up a thin wooden plank that had been leant against the side and climbed up, before reaching down and snatching it away before I could use it to follow her. She left it on the first floor of the scaffold and stood back with an exhausted smile on her lips. That singular moment taken to gloat about her victory was what sealed her fate.

The first level was too tall for me to reach without assistance, but the fire escape was built far enough away from the wall that there was a significant gap between it and the brickwork. I charged ahead at full speed and disappeared beneath her feet. I scrambled up the wall, found a handhold on the lip of the closest window, and kicked away while turning a hundred and eighty degrees. The entire structure vibrated as I clasped onto the side and pulled my body weight up using my arms.

Which conveniently brought me to the other side where the steps up were located. The thief tried to jump back down and escape, but they were too slow. I grabbed them by the back of their shirt and dragged them away, forcing them against one of the supporting struts using my forearm.

“You’re some kind of bloody freak, lady!”

Now that we were up close and personal, she finally remembered who I was.

“Bugger me! You again?”

I snatched my purse back from her other hand and released her from my grip. To prove a point, I opened the purse and revealed that it had been empty the entire time. The only money inside was a handful of spare notes and change that wouldn’t buy her anything of importance.

Defeated, she slumped back and threw up her hands.

“You got me. I’ve never seen anyone run that chuffing fast before...”

“Do I smell like money?” I wondered.

“Yeah,” she scoffed, “I can spot a rich toff from a mile away. The way you walk, that snooty expression, those expensive clothes – you’re a big banner that’s shouting ‘Please steal all of my belongings!’ You should stick to the countryside. It’s easier out there.”

Sensing that her words were not affecting me, she changed her approach.

“No harm no foul, yeah? You got your bloody purse back, and you don’t want to be startin’ no trouble with me.”

“Why?”

She reached into her front pocket and pulled out a small white cloth which dangled loosely towards her stomach.

“I’m a Walker! My Pa’s a big shot ‘round here. Nobody messes with me because they know it’ll be the last thing they ever do.”

“Put your rag away. I could beat you black and blue and there wouldn’t be a damn thing he could do about it. Who do you take me for? I’m more insulted by the cheek of you pulling rank than the threat.”

“It’s not a rag!” she argued, “Snobs like you think that it isn’t a big deal – but this is a genuine piece of undyed cotton! It’s our pride as a-”

“-I don’t care one bit about your pride. I’m not going to hand you to the police anyway. They won’t arrest you. Since I won this little game, it only seems fair that you give some something in return.”

“I don’t have any money, and I wouldn’t give it to a spoilt pig like you anyway!”

I rolled my eyes and got down onto one knee to even our positions, “I want to know what’s going on in Church Walk right now.”

The thief shook her head; “Why would you want to know that?”

“I’m asking the questions here. I could always reconsider my decision to let bygones be bygones. You seemed very eager to do that before.”

In that moment, pressed against the cold metal of the fire escape and with my menacing red eyes peeling away her protective armour of anger and conceit, the thief discovered what it meant to be on the receiving end of a twisted arm. Faced with another humiliation at my hands, or even worse, the potential for the police to take the crime seriously having been committed against a noble, she chose the smart option.

“Alright. Bloody hell. I’ll tell you whatever you want but don’t ask about how the gang runs. Pa keeps me out of that stuff.”

“But he lets you pickpocket people on the street?”

“We need to earn money somehow,” she replied dismissively.

“I don’t doubt that, but if he wants to keep you safe he should reconsider. Pickpocketing can be a dangerous business. First, what’s your name? It isn’t good manners to keep referring to you as ‘the thief.’”

“Kelly. Kelly Müller.”

“Okay Miss Müller, let’s have a pleasant conversation.”

I retracted my previous comment, as it seemed that Lady Luck was smiling at me.