Rescue Operations (3)

[the_comfortable_courtesan]

Her own growing circle (1)

There had been a certain amount of trouble blew up at Matt Johnson’s investigation agency, a year and a half since, from Jack Serling’s supposition that he should be brought on as partner to Matt. Had been about dropping hints in the office that Matt was by no means a young man – o, entirely hale still, but yet, life was uncertain – and had most definite imagined himself as the obvious successor.

This had by no means been to the taste of Matt’s other agents, and 'twas to the great relief of all when a diplomatic resolution to the business had been achieved with the establishment of a branch office in Birmingham, with Jack in charge. This was the more agreeable to him, as he had lately married a prosperous widow that he had encountered in the course of an investigation, that had connexions in those parts. So all fell out most agreeably.

It had lately befallen that Jack had been obliged to call upon the talents of his former colleagues in the London agency. Had not yet managed to lay hands upon any that had Solly Abrahams’ skills in looking into financial matters to see was there somewhat awry a-going on. While here was a builder, had come across this fine service that the Johnson agency offered, to advize how to protect premises from burglary, and took a thought that he might consult 'em about how to construct his houses to deter housebreakers.

So Solly, and Leda Hacker, that from her childhood as the pet pupil of the thief-master Laffen had a very good understanding of ken-cracking, had been sent to Birmingham, with a plausible reason why 'twas a young woman undertook this matter. Matt had grinned and said, did not think 'twould answer did Leda go masquerade as Larry – for while she could present very effective in that role, looked rather too youthful thus for such responsibility. Leda also remarked that would require sustaining the part for the duration of their stay, and was not sure could manage that. Might give out that had studied the matter at her father's knee - for that sounded more respectable than sure, I was prenticed to a master-burglar!

So Leda, dressed very severely drab and respectable, had sighed to Mr Naughton that, alas, one could not guarantee any household secure from human folly or carelessness – whether it was, o, we must leave some chink for little Fluffypuss to go in and out, or the son of the house coming home somewhat elevated and forgetting to lock up – Mr Naughton equally sighed and groaned and nodded – but indeed there were things one could do –

Had got on excellent terms with a crack locksmith in those parts – sure, she said, any lock may eventually be picked, but the longer it takes, the less like your ken-cracker is to linger over it, and will move on.  One might so construct the place so that it did not offer handholds for easy climbing.

So now they were on their return from Birmingham with a gratifying sense of jobs well-done and having demonstrated the prestige of the agency.

And very glad Leda was to be returning to Town and her dearest love. She had never imagined, when she had made her declaration to the exquisite Lady Bexbury, that her feelings might be returned. Even when she discovered that they were, she had never supposed that this could be more than an episode for Clorinda – something that Leda might cherish in memory through the years. But, here they were, still enamoured of one another.

It was a wonder to her. Lovely wealthy influential clever Clorinda, noted philanthropist, famed for her taste, known to only a select group of her friends as the popular author A Lady Anonyma. Former courtesan, competent businesswoman, and one whose delicate fingers untangled a deal of situations.

And here she was, Leda Hacker, formerly Bet Bloggs, Seven Dials thief and whore, now one of Matt Johnson’s investigation agents. That had, to her surprize, her own growing circle of friends and acquaintance that sure ranged widely!

With extremely good lodgings at that house in Marylebone for ladies that were obliged to go out earning their livings, kept by Mrs Mitchell, some relative of the Wilsons in Clorinda’s household and trained there afore her marriage and widowhood. Clean – comfortable – a very fine table laid by one that had learnt her kitchencraft under Clorinda’s Euphemia!

Leda put down her valise and directed Jed where he might put her trunk so that she might conveniently unpack it. She looked about: well-swept and dusted during her absence, her letters laid upon the chest of drawers – she picked 'em up and looked through 'em, no signs of anyone having endeavoured to pry inside! Dillie, the maid, could be a little silly, but there was no harm in her.

Well, thought Leda as she went to the washstand and observed the condition of the soap, she fancied that Dillie might on occasion make free of the very good expensive scented soap that Leda indulged herself with, but sure that was harmless enough.

After she had washed she put on a wrapper and turned her attention to unpacking, putting by all the items that would need sending out to laundry, and stowing away everything else neatly. Only then did she sit down in one of the two easy chairs and peruse her correspondence.

A note from Bert Edwards at Raxdell House, offering that when she returned from the Midlands, they might go a frolic to the Beaufoyle Arms Song and Supper Room? – was a useful thing to the both of 'em. Suited her to have Bert as an escort to diversions, and did Bert no harm to be supposed to be a-courting of her. They were on good enough terms for Lady Raxdell’s social secretary to have revealed to Leda that he had a second life in certain circles where was known as the Duchess of Camberwell Green, a most exceeding stylish creature. Had even given some exceeding helpful hints concerning Leda’s own occasional masquerade as the St James’s doxy Babsie Bolton!

A very cryptic communication from Grigori in Seven Dials, that had come by certain items that might be of interest. Most like intended intelligence of some kind, but meant that she would have to be making a journey into Seven Dials – that these days, she did as Larry Hooper, 'twas a deal safer. Law, the expression on Nat Barron’s face, the first time she did so and he had come about to realize that this brash boy was the former Bet Bloggs!

A long gossipy epistle from Yeomans, from darling Verrie and sweet Ellen, that had now married Gordon Marshall, but still remained there in the healthful airs in Surrey. Her husband was sometimes obliged by his newspaper duties to stay the night in Town but otherwise there was a most excellent railway connexion. The orphans continued to flourish – Theo and Miranda commenced upon simple lessons – Hari was such a beautiful child one feared the fairies would steal him, quite Titania’s Indian boy! – Ellen’s own little Caroline a darling babe –

A letter from Ginevra Frinton at the seaside with her mother and little boy, entirely commending the place to Leda – after the smoke of Birmingham should consider it! – and then reminding her to write up her reports and file 'em in the proper places when she returned to the agency. Well, they entirely relied on Frinton’s surpassing system of record-keeping! Saved a deal of trouble.

Nothing else that she needed to attend to with any urgency. So she might dress and make her way to Clorinda’s pretty house in Mayfair to see her love at last.

Comments

[kore]

LEDA. I love her parallels with Maurice, and I would also love to see a whole movie about her.