Unobtainium 1: Kate on a Hot Tin Roof Read online

  ‘Rented,’ Little told her when she commented upon them. ‘Mister Dretch will arrange it for the more comely, well-spoken girls. They earn more, and he takes the rent of the dress on top of the room so they are no better off.’

  Kate gave a nod and said nothing. This was a side of London that Antonia had neglected to show her. She could well see why and yet she was sorry. There was no point in hiding from her the seedier side of the city, for she had been born into it. Her mother had been no better than the girls in this lodging, perhaps she had even come from this lodging.

  Little took them up to the top floor and a room with two beds in it, one of those occupied by a girl of, perhaps, eighteen. Despite her youth, she looked weary and there were lines around her eyes already. She looked up with disinterested eyes as Antonia and Kate entered, but they brightened a little when she saw Little with them.

  ‘Madge! It’s nice t’ see you, but what brings you t’ this place on a weekday?’ The accent was fairly thick; Kate noted that there was no gown hung in this room.

  ‘Lookin’ for Chas, Mary,’ Little replied. ‘This is Mrs Wooster, my employer, and Miss Felix, her friend. This is Mary Cheetham, ma’am. She shares the room with Chastity.’

  Mary struggled to her feet and straightened her worn, brown dress. ‘Ladies like yourself shouldn’t be showin’ their faces in a place like this. Someone’ll get the wrong idea.’

  Antonia smiled. ‘I assure you, Miss Cheetham, that I have been in worse places. You have seen nothing of Chastity since Thursday gone, is that correct?’

  ‘No, mum. She wen’ out Thursday night, like always, an’ she never came ’ome.’

  ‘And which streets did she work?’

  ‘She goes down Alie an’ Buckle, up aroun’ White Church an’ Osborne, mum.’

  Antonia grimaced. ‘Whitechapel. That is not a grand place to–’

  ‘I’ll ’ave none o’ this.’

  Kate turned, Antonia rounding a fraction of a second later, to see a man in the doorway. He was big, but not quite as tall as Kate. He was far wider and only some of that came from the meaty muscle on his arms. His belly pushed the buttons out on his shirt and Kate made a note that, yes, Mister Thomas was not the only hairy man in the world. She would gladly have had them exchange places, however, for Mister Thomas took care of his hygiene and this man had breath like a sewer pipe.

  ‘Mister Dretch,’ Mary began, ‘it’s not what yu think. They–’

  ‘I know what they’re about an’ I’ll be havin’ none of it. I’ve had madams in before takin’ my girls away from me with stories of better places an’ clean sheets.’

  ‘He thinks we are brothel madams come to lure Miss Cheetham away,’ Antonia said, her tone amused.

  Kate took in the anger in the man’s dark, watery eyes, the way his muscles bunched as he clenched his fists. ‘Oh,’ she said, and then she moved.

  Or, to Little, it seemed that there was an instant when Kate was standing still, and another when she had moved. Her arm was now raised, hand bent at the wrist, and Dretch was falling back through the door. The only acceptable explanation was that she had hit him in the jaw with the heel of her hand.

  ‘We require any knowledge you might have on the whereabouts of Chastity Ruth,’ Antonia said, her tone calm but authoritative.

  Dretch pulled himself to his feet and shook his head. He stepped forward, his fists rising, and Kate stepped into his attack, her own fist snapping up and out before he could even begin his attack. He jerked backwards as her knuckles struck the bridge of his nose with no apparent effort.

  ‘My companion is quite capable of beating you senseless with her bare hands, Mister Dretch,’ Antonia told him, ‘and I must say that I should rather enjoy watching her do it. What do you know?’

  ‘I know the little bitch owes me, that I know,’ Dretch replied. His fists were swinging again. Kate’s left arm swung up as she stepped into the blow, which swept past its target as she moved in. Her foot locked his leg in place as her elbow pressed firmly into his chest and he let out a yelp as he was deposited back onto the floorboards.

  Stepping forward, Kate planted the heel of her boot into Dretch’s crotch. ‘Please stay where you are. I am unbalanced and the least thing could tip my weight onto my front foot.’

  ‘Right you are,’ Dretch wheezed.

  ‘Chastity Ruth,’ Antonia repeated, stepping up beside Kate.

  ‘I know not where she is! As God be my witness I don’t!’

  ‘No client you know of who might have done her harm? No rumours?’

  ‘None. I asked around an’ none’ve seen ’er nor ’eard from ’er in days. There’s rumours o’ slavers workin’ Whitechapel, but there’s always rumours’ o’ slavers workin’ Whitechapel. No one takes no heed.’

  ‘Very well. Should I hear that Mary has come to harm over this, I will see to it that you spend your remaining years in Pentonville. Once you have left the hospital, obviously. Are we clear, Mister Dretch?’

  Dretch let out a cry as Kate applied more weight. ‘Clear as day, milady.’

  ‘Excellent. Let us be away.’

  ‘Did we learn anything?’ Kate asked once they were outside.

  ‘We learned that Dretch almost certainly does not know what happened to this unfortunate and that we are blessed indeed that we do not have to live like this.’

  ‘Well, I don’t thanks to you, ma’am,’ Little said, ‘which makes me doubly fortunate, I think.’

  ‘Thank you for saying so, Little. However, our sojourn in this part of the more disreputable side of London has not left us with much information. Tomorrow we will go to Inspector Franklin and request his aid. He will be able to do little, I fear, but he may have sources of information which could be useful.’

  ‘I learned one other thing,’ Kate said, ‘and that is that a dress such as this is not suitable clothing for a fistfight.’

  Antonia glanced at her. ‘If you are willing to put some of your allowance towards something new, I know just the person to outfit you for more active pursuits.’

  ‘My allowance rarely gets used for anything at all,’ Kate replied. ‘I believe a new dress is in order.’

  ‘A dress… is not exactly what I had in mind.’

  Westminster, 3rd August.

  Inspector Franklin gave a sigh which suggested genuine regret, but also that he was not going to be of much assistance. ‘These girls go missing all the time, Mrs Wooster. It is a fact of life as sure as death and taxes. We see but a hundredth of them reported missing, and even that is a list too long for us to pursue but a fraction of the cases. It does the Yard no credit to say that only those of higher class have a chance of coming to our attention, unless for some reason the papers get a hold of it, but there has to be some priority assigned and that is how my superiors chose to assign it.’

  Antonia gave a nod. ‘I expected no more, Inspector, and rest assured I do not hold you in less regard for your honesty. Far from it, your candour does you credit, but there is a personal element to this and I would count it as a favour were you to keep an ear open for any information which might come your way.’ She handed him a sheet of paper. ‘I had Little write down a description of the girl. It is little to work with, but one of your constables may see or hear something.’

  ‘I shall have it circulated, ma’am. You say this Dretch mentioned slavers?’

  She waved away the question. ‘I’m sure we both know that white slavery was an invention of the feminist movement and the newspapers last century. It got procurement outlawed, which was well and good, and raised the age of consent, which I cannot disagree with, but it outlawed the brothels, which was of debatable benefit, and turned men with… less usual carnal appetites into criminals.’

  ‘Yes,’ Franklin agreed, though there was an edge to his voice which suggested there was some element of qualification coming, ‘but then the Empire grew more rapidly. Back in those days there was migration of the prostitutes to foreign parts which was used as evidence of
slaving, and that still goes on as women will go to outposts of the Empire where the law is less stringently upheld. But it’s a matter of supply and demand, you see? There is now more demand than supply, and where that condition exists there is always someone willing to make up the gap. We rarely catch wind of a ring, and it’s rarer still that we break one up, but they happen. Surely as foreign girls are kidnapped to these shores for those with a taste for the exotic.’

  ‘Sadly I am aware of the latter trade. I would be grateful, Inspector, if you would make enquiries regarding this ring Dretch mentioned. Surely the capture of such a gang is worth a little of the Yard’s time?’

  ‘I will do my best, Mrs Wooster.’

  They were outside and walking south before Kate spoke. The conversation in Scotland Yard had left her disquieted. ‘Do we just wait?’

  ‘Oh, by heavens no. We seek out these men ourselves. Your new suit will not be ready until tomorrow and I believe we will put it to use. For tonight we will walk together, just two ladies out on the streets, and you will learn the lay of the land. Then we will go hunting. It is not easy game we hunt, but the kill is often so much sweeter for a good chase.’

  Whitechapel.

  Kate was most thankful when the stench finally made her nose so numb that she could no longer smell it. She wondered whether she would ever smell anything again, but it would be worth it.

  ‘Conditions here have improved since last century,’ Antonia said as they walked, arm-in-arm, through the narrow streets, ‘but there is still a lack of proper sanitation and clean water. Disease is not uncommon. In the West End it is all lights and colour, and the upper classes enjoy their life, but here things are far from bright.’

  They walked down streets which were narrow enough that the buildings almost touched. Even in daylight there could have been little to see by at ground level and someone could easily have stepped from one building to its neighbour across the way in some places. Kate tried her best to memorise the layout and the names, but the place was a maze of alleyways along with the roads which ran with water in many places. Well she hoped it was water.

  No one here dressed in fine clothes. Antonia was in a serviceable brown walking dress and had suggested that Kate find the oldest of her suits for the purpose. In truth, the oldest outfit Kate had was the one Antonia had procured for her in hospital and she would not risk that for anything. She had found an old brown coat and skirt which had been put aside for repairs which had never happened and wore that. Even clad as they were, the two women appeared infinitely better dressed than the majority of those they passed.

  As they passed an alley, Kate glanced around for some sign of the name and spotted something in the gloom partway down. Even for her eyes, the light was too dim to make out details, but she thought she saw a leg, raised and bent at the knee, faces close together, but not touching.

  ‘You see something?’ Antonia asked.

  Kate began walking again. ‘Likely one of Chastity’s sisters-in-trade with a client. Mrs Morton taught me of the history of this great Empire we live in, but nothing was mentioned of this side of it. All the great victories, the lands brought to civilised governance, yet it seems we cannot bring all of Britain to the same state.’

  ‘History, Kate, is written by the victors. All those glorious victories are not thought of as such in the lands conquered. The Boer still rail against British rule, and there are elements in India who would see the Empire leave. Moreover, history books are often written by those with an agenda. They do not dwell on the negative in order to aggrandise the positive. The only way to truly know history is to live it, and even then it is coloured by your own perceptions.’

  ‘Then… how are we to know what is true?’

  ‘That, my dear, is the point. History is made by people, and when people are involved there is rarely an absolute truth. Everything depends upon your point of view. Interpretation is all. Charles is the lucky one, dealing in physics and chemistry. His particles do not pretend to be one thing while really being another. Whenever he measures them he finds his results the same, no matter how he chooses to look. I believe that is why truly rational men turn to the hard sciences, for the study of anything to do with men and their works would drive them to drink.’

  Richmond, 4th August.

  ‘Is that suede, Mister Osborne?’ Antonia was peering at the fabric coating Kate’s thighs, rather tightly, with interest.

  ‘It is a new kind of suede, Mrs Wooster,’ Mister Osborne replied as he carefully worked over the seams of Kate’s new trousers. His assistant, a seamstress named Patricia, was working on the other leg. ‘It has been treated with a new chemical process which makes it less prone to liquid absorption and staining. I am seeing much call for it for use in jodhpurs.’

  ‘I shall speak to you regarding a new outfit for myself once our business with Miss Felix is concluded.’

  Kate was hoping that that would be sooner rather than later. The measuring had been bad enough when Antonia had requested that her husband’s tailor attend the house a couple of days earlier. Antonia had made calming noises while Kate stood there in her bloomers and a shift, and assured her that Mister Osborne was a professional and prodded tape measures into ladies’ intimate parts all the time. Now she was undergoing the final fitting with her new garments actually on her body. Antonia had assured her that she would be allowed, with Little and Patricia assisting, to carefully remove the pinned garments before the final sewing was done, a task which Patricia would be undertaking there and then.

  ‘You have, as usual, done an excellent job in record time,’ Antonia stated. She looked up at Kate, who was standing on a small table to make access easier. ‘Mister Osborne made all of Mister Wooster’s clothes, and he would make my outfits for the field. I’ve found that suitably tailored men’s shirts and trousers are infinitely better suited to such environments than long skirts and I will defend my right to wear them to the bitter end.’

  Kate tried not to giggle; Osborne preferred it if she avoided breathing. ‘You’ll forgive me, Mrs Wooster, but this garb seems… briefer than that.’

  Antonia made a show of stepping back and examining Osborne’s work. There were the aforementioned trousers, though perhaps jodhpurs would have been a better description had not there been a seam up the inner thigh. They were a brown suede, and fitted her legs and hips very tightly, the material being stretchy, and there was a short brocade skirt attached to the belt which covered her rear, just. There were leather pouches mounted over her hips which she deemed quite practical. Her feet were in ankle boots with heels. Her waist was encircled by a short, leather corset held firmly in place by heavier leather strips. It was quite solid and, though she could move adequately well in it, it felt as though it could turn a blade. Thick leather bracers encircled her forearms and Antonia had added bands of leather about her biceps, ‘for the aesthetic of the thing.’ The top was, however, what concerned Kate the most. It was a sleeveless jacket made of a slightly heavier, smoother suede which rose high about the nape of her neck. There was a cloth panel under her breasts while two cups of quite solid leather held the breasts themselves, in a rather enticing manner with the upper part of her chest clear to her bare throat. There was more flesh showing between top and corset, and corset and trousers, but that large expanse of décolletage…

  ‘You have the figure for it, my dear Kate,’ Antonia stated.

  ‘Briefer garments are becoming all the rage on the Continent,’ Osborne said. ‘In America, I hear, women regularly dress in sleeveless dresses with hemlines barely below the knee.’

  ‘My,’ Antonia said, barely concealing her amusement, ‘what is the world coming to?’

  ‘In a decade,’ Osborne asserted, apparently quite seriously, ‘we will have descended to the level of beasts and all will walk about the town unclad.’ He placed a final pin and stepped back, examining his work.

  ‘Not, I think, in English winters, Mister Osborne.’

  ‘You may be right, Mrs Wooster
. I believe that is sufficient. Patricia will stay to complete the alterations, but I must return to my shop. A pleasure meeting you, Miss Felix.’

  ‘Likewise,’ Kate replied, though ‘pleasure’ was not quite what she was thinking.

  As Antonia showed Osborne to the door, Patricia and Little stood before Kate, the pair of them with their chins in their hands.

  ‘The boots first, obviously,’ Little said.

  ‘And the vest will not be difficult,’ Patricia added.

  ‘But those trousers…’

  ‘Well, nothing for it but to begin and take it slow. You just be sure you don’t move, Miss Felix, else there will be pins in places I dare not mention and we’ll likely have to get Mister Osborne back to start again.’

  Kate gave a little whimper and nodded. She would stand stock still in a hurricane if she did not have to go through that again.

  Whitechapel.

  The night was warm, but the breeze at rooftop level kept it from becoming oppressive and tended to ameliorate the stench from the streets below. Kate walked easily across the tiles and bricks, watching the foot traffic below her for signs of anything odd, though in truth she was not sure what she was looking for.

  Antonia’s tactic for watching as much ground as possible was a two-part one. Antonia was down on the streets, alone. It was not a plan Kate liked, but Antonia had assured her that she would be quite safe, or rather that anyone importuning her would not be. Kate was above, which was technically a more treacherous position, and she was forced to test her footing now and again due to rotten roof timers, but in practice she felt safer up there than she would have on the streets. Certainly her attire would have attracted more attention on the street.

  Her hip buzzed at her, an odd, rattling clatter which indicated the wireless communication device wished her attention. She took the palm-sized box from the pouch over her left hip and pressed in the button on the side which activated the microphone. ‘Antonia?’ Then she let go.

  ‘And who else would it be?’ Antonia’s voice asked from the speaker set on the front. The ‘portable radio wave vocal transmission and reception device’ and its twin, which Antonia was using, had been constructed for the Woosters by Charles so that they could keep in touch when out of sight in the field. He called them ‘portios.’ They worked less well among the tall buildings of the city, but they worked and they were the only two of their like in the world. ‘I am assuming you’ve seen nothing strange?’