Kat gave out with a sudden sound that I thought might be alarm, but when I turned to her I found that she was smiling and that the noise had been something like a laugh. For the first time, she looked as though she might be buying that the Doctor was okay.

The Doctor laughed along with her, very encouragingly. “So, Miss Devlin,” he said (and I could see that Kat liked being referred to that way), “you say that the woman in this picture is on romantic terms with Knox?”

“She’s his special moll just at the moment,” Kat answered.

“Indeed?” the Doctor replied.

“And,” Lucius added pointedly, “Knox has her home under his personal protection.”

“Does he really?” The Doctor looked to Kat again. “For any particular reason that you can think of, Miss Devlin?”

Kat shrugged, and loosened her grip on my arm a bit. “He’s a wild one, is that Goo Goo-and from what I seen, so’s Libby. They spend a lot of time upstairs in his room. I hear it gets a little crazy sometimes. I also hear that she-well, she-dances for him.”

“ ‘Dances’?” the Doctor echoed, a bit confused.

Glancing out the window in some embarrassment, Kat nodded. “You know, sir-dances. He’ll have the band come up, and play outside his door. And she-dances.”

It finally dawned on the Doctor that Kat was talking about something what was known in those days by a number of different terms, but which we now refer to by what it is: the striptease. “I see,” the Doctor said quietly. “Do excuse my ignorance, Miss Devlin. I don’t mean to be thickheaded.”

“Oh, no, sir,” she answered, very respectfully. “Ain’t no reason why you should know. Anyway, like I say, at the moment she’s the one of his girls that can really keep up with him-even more than the younger ones. She works at it, does that Libby.”

“Libby,” the Doctor repeated softly, bouncing the knuckle of his forefinger against his mouth as he weighed it. “Libby…” He turned to the detective sergeants. “An alias?”

Marcus considered it with a little shrug. “ ‘Libby’ could be a diminutive version of ‘Elspeth’-it’s likely she had or has one, as ‘Elspeth’ is fairly archaic.”

“Hatch could be her maiden name,” Lucius added. “She’s using it in situations where she doesn’t want to be identified. You’re not going to get many nursing jobs if it gets around that you’re-dancing for Goo Goo Knox. But there’s a more important consideration here, Doctor.” Lucius approached him, glancing briefly at Kat. “There are two things we need to do at this juncture, forensically. We need to prove that the child is in Nurse Hunter’s home, and we need to demonstrate that Nurse Hunter was in fact responsible for the attack in Central Park.” He gave Kat another look and a very friendly smile. “I believe that Miss Devlin can help us with both things.”

Kat turned to me, speaking quietly. “Stevie…. you said there wasn’t gonna be no trouble…”

“There ain’t, Kat,” I answered quickly. “Not for you.”

“Then what’s all this about a kid, and an ‘attack’?”

“ ‘All this’ is nothing in which you need fear you will be implicated, Miss Devlin,” the Doctor tossed in from his chair. “The detective sergeants are investigating a case. We are providing them with some help. Our motives are that simple.”

Grunting a little as she turned back to the Doctor, Kat took on a defiant look. “I don’t want to get mixed up in any police investigation,” she said. “Especially not if it’s got to do with Goo Goo. He’d as soon beat somebody half to death as look at ’em, even when he ain’t blowin’ the burny.”

“There might,” Marcus said, what you could call delicately, “be a rather substantial consideration involved, Miss Devlin.”

Kat squinted at him. “You mean-like money?” Marcus nodded. “Money don’t do you much good in the hospital. And not when you’re at the bottom of the river, neither.”

“And if it were enough money to ensure that you never had to return to Hudson Street again?” the Doctor asked.

Kat’s face went blank. “How could that be? If I cross the Dusters, even just one tiny bit, there won’t be a place in this city I can hide.”

The Doctor shrugged. “Are you so attached to life in this city? Perhaps you have family in some other part of the country?”

“And I assure you, we wouldn’t be asking you to do anything dangerous,” Lucius said.

“Everything’s dangerous, when you’re dealing with that bunch,” Kat answered quickly. Then she eyed the Doctor again. “I got an aunt. Lives in San Francisco -she’s an opera singer.”

“Really?” the Doctor said enthusiastically. “They have a most promising company. Is she a soprano? A mezzo?”

“An opera singer, is what she is,” Kat answered, not knowing what in the world the Doctor was talking about, and looking it. “She sent me a letter once, after my papa died, saying she could get me work as a singer, too. I can sing-Stevie’s heard me.”

Kat turned to me, expecting some support. I just nodded hard and said, “Oh, yeah, she can sing, all right,” even though I’d never thought that much of her voice. But I got a tin ear, and always have had; so I can’t say, maybe she could sing.

“Well, then,” the Doctor said, “one ticket to San Francisco-by rail or by sea, whichever you choose-and, say, a few hundred dollars to-acclimate yourself.” I’d never seen Kat’s eyes grow so big. “All in exchange for-” The Doctor suddenly stopped and turned to Lucius in confusion. “Detective Sergeant, what the devil is all that in exchange for?”

Lucius turned to Kat again, maintaining his smile. “A garment with buttons,” was all he said.

Kat stared at him, her mouth hanging open. “A garment? You mean, like clothes?”

“Clothes might do,” Lucius answered. “An outer garment would be best, though. Something she would be sure to wear in her own house, as well as at the Dusters’. And on the street, too, if possible. A coat or jacket of some kind would really be ideal.”

“I get it,” Marcus said, slapping his forehead. “Of course!”

Kat looked at the pair of them like they were even crazier than she’d first thought. “A coat or jacket,” she said.

“With buttons,” Lucius answered, nodding.

“With buttons,” Kat said, nodding along. “Any particular kind of buttons?”

“Large ones would be best. The larger the better.”

“And flat, if possible,” Marcus added.

“Yes,” Lucius agreed. “Exactly.”

Kat stared at them for a few seconds, then opened her mouth to speak. Unable to find words right away, she turned to me, then back to them; and the blue eyes narrowed as her mouth curled into a slight smile. “Let me see if I’m gettin’ this. You want me to lift one of Libby Hatch’s jackets or coats. One with big, flat buttons. And for that, you’ll give me a ticket to San Francisco and a few hundred bucks to set myself up?”

“That,” the Doctor said, himself looking a bit uneasily at the Isaacsons, “is apparently what we are offering.”

Kat turned to me again. “They serious, Stevie?”

“Generally,” I answered with a smile. The thought of Kat leaving town didn’t set me up much, that was true; but the idea of her getting away from Ding Dong, the Dusters, and all that went with that life outweighed any other consideration. “Come on, Kat,” I urged. “Lifting a coat? You could do it in your sleep.”

She slapped my leg hard. “Ain’t no reason to tell the world that, Stevie Taggert,” she scolded quietly. Then she looked back to the others and stood up. “All right, boys-uh, gentlemen. You got yourselves a deal. It may take me a day or two-”

“The sooner the better,” Dr. Kreizler answered, standing and extending a hand. “But a day or two should be fine.”

Kat shook his hand, much less skittishly this time, then smiled wide. “Well!” she said. “I’d best get about it, then!” Turning to me, she took on a bit of a coy air, playacting like she had in the kitchen. “Stevie-will you-” She stopped, realizing she didn’t know the words.