UNEXPECTED BENEFITS
1902—New York
Viola was speechless. She took in the girl, this Ruby Reynolds, with her expression expectant and her eyes shining, and all Viola could do was gape. The girl thought Torrio was the Mageus?
“You understand how important this is, don’t you?” Ruby asked. “You’ll help me?”
“Why?” was all Viola could manage at first.
Ruby frowned. “Why what?”
“Why would you want to destroy the Order?” Viola asked. “They’re like you—rich and white, native born. You have the world at your feet. Why do this?”
Ruby looked as though someone had struck her. “Maybe I don’t want to be like them, Miss Vaccarelli.”
Viola had not known that an expression could go quiet until that moment, but it wasn’t an easy silence brought on by fear. It was a fierce stillness that she understood too well. In that instant, the painted bird turned into a tiger, silent and deadly.
“Yes,” Ruby told her in a voice that was as brittle as broken glass, “I do have the world at my feet. I have a wonderful life filled with all the best people at all the best parties in the best city in the world.” She leaned forward, her expression serious. “But I’m tired of pretending that everything about my life is as it should be. I’d rather be dead.”
Viola refused to let herself be moved by the rich girl’s pretty words. “You poke around Paul Kelly and you will be.”
“Then at least I’ll know I’ve lived well, won’t I?”
The man, Theo, patted Ruby’s leg gently, as though to comfort her, but even Viola could see that Ruby didn’t need comfort. Her skin was flushed and her eyes were clear and determined. She was a strange creature—not half so fragile as Viola had first suspected. But perhaps every bit as spoiled if her people allowed her to flit about the city, chasing after every idea that entered her head.
“The Order is a menace to the city,” Ruby said, her voice softer now, grave and serious. “They’ve grown weak, and they’re afraid of that weakness. They’re afraid of their own irrelevance in this new, modern age, so they’ve turned to Tammany to help shore up the power they’ve lost, and now they’ve turned to your brother. They’ve become the very thing they’re supposed to be protecting the city from. Look at what they did, sending you and Torrio to scare me, all because I wrote a story. A story that was the truth. But it was a story that showed them to be weak and ineffective. They don’t want anyone to know about what really happened at Khafre Hall. They don’t want anyone to understand how pointless they are, so they will use any means—corrupt politicians and criminals, even Mageus—to protect themselves. To prop up their dying institution. And people will die.”
“People already have,” Viola said darkly.
“Then you understand?” Ruby asked, her voice tinged with hope.
The three of them sat in an uneasy silence for a long while before Theo finally spoke. “We can provide you with compensation for your testimony, of course. We can get you out of the city, if you’re worried about your safety.”
We. Because they were together. Because they would be married. And once they were, the girl would be like every other girl who gathered a bouquet and pledged herself to a man. Viola wondered what would happen to the girl’s fire then. Would it sputter out, or would it explode, destroying the pretty picture of their lives together?
“I don’t worry about my safety,” Viola said, shaking her head. The girl was a menace to herself, to Mageus everywhere, and now, to Viola. And there was only one way to make sure that danger didn’t go unchecked. And if it also helped Viola chip away at the Order’s power? Then that was an unexpected benefit. They would make strange allies, these two. But they seemed sincere. “Fine,” Viola told Ruby. “I’ll help you.”
“Thank you—” Ruby started to say, but Viola held up a hand to silence her.
“I have a condition.”
“What type of condition?” Theo asked, looking at her now as though she were a roach that had just crawled out of the cupboard.
“You don’t write no more articles until our arrangement is done. Not a one,” she said, when the girl was about to argue.
“But I have to write,” Ruby said. “It’s my profession.”
Viola shook her head. If the girl published anything else, everyone would know that Viola hadn’t actually killed Reynolds.
“Can she write under a different name?” Theo asked.
“But, Theo—”
“It’s only until you get the information you need,” he said, and then glanced at Viola. “How long will that take?”
“It depends on what she wants from me.”
“I need information,” Ruby said. “From what I can tell, the Order is looking for the people who destroyed Khafre Hall. I need to know what they took. I need names, evidence of the Order’s connection to your brother and the Five Pointers. I need incontrovertible proof that the Order isn’t what it appears to be. That it is a danger to the city.”
“You ask for a lot—too much maybe. It will take time,” Viola said before Ruby could even open her smart mouth. “Paul, he doesn’t trust me. To get the information will be a delicate thing.” But it wouldn’t be impossible. And if Viola could implicate Nibsy as well? She could take out two birds at once. “If you write more of your stories, it will make it harder for me to find what you’re asking for. It will make it dangerous for me, too,” she finished, playing on the girl’s emotions.
“Well, she can’t go on without writing indefinitely,” Theo said. “There has to be some sort of limitation.”
Until Libitina is in my hands again, Viola thought, but that wasn’t anything she could say out loud. “Until I say so. That’s my offer. Take it or figure out how to get access to the Five Pointers some other way.”
Viola waited, half-convinced that her bluff would be called and that Ruby would reject the offer and continue on her reckless course alone and half hoping she wouldn’t.
Finally, Ruby nodded. “Deal,” she said, extending her hand.
Viola examined it for a moment, cursing herself for getting mixed up in all of this. She should walk away and wash her hands of everything. But if the girl helped her to destroy the Order and put her brother in his place all while making Nibsy a target? It was an opportunity she couldn’t refuse.
She didn’t like this Ruby Reynolds. She didn’t like her perfectly white teeth or her pert nose or the way her cheeks turned pink every time someone spoke to her. Maybe Ruby wasn’t so fragile as Viola had expected, but the girl was still too delicate for Viola’s world. Whatever happened, Viola had tried to warn her.
Viola took Ruby’s hand and shook, ignoring the warmth that washed through her body when her skin slid against the smooth, soft leather of Ruby’s gloves. Their eyes met, and for some reason, Viola could only see Tilly looking back at her. And she hated Ruby Reynolds that much more.
The carriage had come to a stop without Viola even noticing it. Once she finally did, she pulled her hand away.
“When should we meet next?” Theo asked, breaking the silence.
Viola shook her head. “I’m not sure.”
“That won’t do—” he started, but Ruby stopped him.
“I’m sure she has responsibilities to tend to,” Ruby told him, but her eyes didn’t leave Viola’s. “She’ll send word when she has something. . . . Won’t you?”
Just days ago she’d been stuck in the Bowery, where she would live and die. She’d been mourning Tilly, but she’d been content with her lot in life, with knowing what it was—what it would be. Now everything was uncertain. Now she didn’t know where she would land. But she was determined that it would be on her feet. “I’ll send word when I can.”
Theo pulled a creamy white card from his jacket pocket and handed it to her. “You can contact us here,” he said.
As she took it from him, she noticed his perfectly manicured nails, the smooth skin of his fingertips, and the Madison Avenue address. She had killed men far more dangerous than Theo Barclay, but for the first time in a long time, Viola felt the uneasy stirrings of a different type of fear.
Theo opened the door and let her alight from the carriage. She realized she was back where she’d started—all that had just happened, and they’d only circled a couple of blocks.
“We’ll talk again soon,” Ruby told her before the carriage door closed.
Viola watched the carriage drive away until it turned the corner, leaving the filth and the poverty of the Bowery behind without any evidence that it had ever been there.
Shaking off her foul mood, Viola started back toward Paul’s building. Whatever she pretended to be, Ruby Reynolds was nothing but a poor little rich girl, having a good time as she played her little games. She was everything that Viola had grown to hate—privileged, careless, and ignorant of the realities of the world.
Or she was supposed to be. But Viola had seen the way her expression changed when she spoke of a different sort of life. Yes, Ruby Reynolds was everything that Viola was supposed to hate, but Viola knew without a doubt that she would do whatever she must to make sure that pretty, delicate Ruby Reynolds survived long enough to see the error of her ways.