“Show you out,” I finished for her. “Yeah, sure.”

The Doctor pulled out a few dollars and handed them to me. “See her to a hansom on the corner, Stevie.” He bowed to Kat. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Miss Devlin. And I look forward to the successful conclusion of our business together.” He glanced at Lucius once more. “Whatever that business may turn out to be…”

I took Kat’s arm, and we headed out of the house.

Once on the sidewalk and moving toward Second Avenue, she began to jump around like a four-year-old. “Stevie!” she near screamed. “I’m goin’ to California! Can you believe it? Can you imagine it? Me, in San Francisco!”

“You really got an aunt’s an opera singer?” I asked, as she came close to strangling me by throwing her arms around my neck.

“Well, practically,” Kat answered. “She works in the opera house, anyways. And she’ll be a singer someday, she told me.”

“Unh-hunh,” I said, not completely convinced. “She ain’t no floozy, is she, Kat?”

“No, she ain’t no floozy, thank you, Stevie,” Kat answered. “And I ain’t gonna be either-not no more! My life’s gonna change, Stevie, change-and alls I gotta do is steal a jacket from Libby Hatch! Steal a jacket from a woman what has trouble keepin’ her clothes on, from all I can tell!”

We’d reached the corner-directly across the avenue from the New York Lying-in Hospital, I noted-and as I hailed a hansom, Kat’s face screwed up one more time. “Whatta you suppose they want such a thing for, Stevie? The Doctor and them two fellas? They’s strange birds, those two, for cops.”

“I don’t know,” I said, suddenly realizing that in fact I didn’t know. “But I’m gonna go find out.” I turned to her as she opened the little door of the hansom. “You’ll be okay, Kat? I mean, about Ding Dong and all?”

“Him?”she answered. “He’ll be lucky if he even sees me before I pull this off. Let him have his little twelve-year-olds-I’m goin’ to California!”

“You’d better write to your aunt first,” I advised. “Make sure she’s still there, and that it’s all okay.”

“I already thought of that,” Kat answered, stepping off the curb. “I’m gonna do it tonight.” She paused before boarding the hansom to give me a hug. “Thanks, Stevie,” she whispered into my ear. “You’re a friend, and that’s the truth.” Pulling back, she glanced at the Doctor’s house once more. “And you was right about your boss-he’s a decent soul, sure enough. Though he looks like one of the Devil’s own, that I will say!”

I wanted badly to kiss her, but she hopped into the cab, waving the few dollars I’d passed along to her up at the driver. “ Hudson Street, cabbie-and take your blasted time, I wanna enjoy the ride!”

The cabbie cracked his whip, Kat gave me a little wave, and then she turned around to take in the avenue. She looked for all the world like she owned the city-and that made me smile.

I turned and ran back to the house as the cab disappeared, wanting to know what in the world the detective sergeants had been talking about.

CHAPTER 20

Coming back into the house, I almost ran headlong into Dr. Kreizler, who was standing outside his small examination room holding the paregoric bottle what I’d left in the kitchen. He launched into a bit of a lecture about my taking it on myself to dispense narcotics: it seemed that paregoric was an opiate, which explained why it was so effective on both colicky babies and the desperate Kat. I told him I had no idea it was so strong, being as anybody could buy it just about anywhere. He answered that he understood why I’d been driven to make use of it, given Kat’s condition (which he, like the detective sergeants, had quickly detected); still, he didn’t want me taking any more medicines out of the examination room without his permission, as he didn’t much like the thought that he’d have to start locking stuff up.

This deserved but no less unpleasant lecture was cut short by the sound of the doorbell. Its two tones, produced by a small electricity-driven hammer striking a pair of long pipes in the vestibule, were particularly loud, given as we were so close, and they startled both myself and the Doctor. He sealed up the paregoric bottle tight, then put it into his examination room and said only, “I hope we understand each other, Stevie.” I assured him that we did, and then he headed for the vestibule.

Before he’d even opened the front door, I could hear Miss Howard’s protesting voice coming through its thick wood. She was answered by a couple of low, mumbling words from Mr. Moore, and then Miss Howard broke into protests again. When the Doctor opened the front door, she dashed through the vestibule and into the hall, looking flushed and annoyed but smiling a bit despite herself.

“Stop it, John, the job’s done. You don’t have to go on.”

Mr. Moore came loping in, giving Miss Howard a lusty look what seemed to be only half serious. “I don’t care,” he said. “Two hours in that hole, I’m going to make you pay-”

The Doctor looked at them both in bewilderment. “It’s a bit late for spring fever, Moore. What the devil are you up to?”

“You don’t have a sedative, do you, Doctor?” Miss Howard said. “Apparently John decided this morning that if he behaved like a disgusting pig while we were at the Hall of Records he might be released from his assignment. He’s been at me all morning-”

“Oh, I haven’t even started,” Mr. Moore said, making a move at Miss Howard. “You don’t know what disgusting is yet, Sara…”

“ Moore,” the Doctor said, grabbing his friend lightly by the collar, “I should have thought such idiocy beneath even you. Kindly pull yourself together. We’ve had important developments, and now that you’re here, we can all go down to Number 808 and review them together.”

“All right,” Mr. Moore said, his eyes fixed on Miss Howard. “I can wait.”

She just turned and looked into the big mirror that hung in the front hall, securing her hair more tightly at the back of her head as she did. “I’m afraid I really will have to shoot you one day, John. Do you still have the diagram?”

“Yes, yes,” Mr. Moore answered, finally dropping the act and standing up straight. He produced a folded piece of paper from inside his jacket. “Two hours, Kreizler, in that musty old tomb-did you know they used to keep prisoners there during the Revolution? And all we come away with is a blasted pencil sketch. Still-I suppose it might’ve taken us two days.”

“Then you found something,” the Doctor said, ignoring Mr. Moore’s whining. “Records?”

“Only a copy of the permit,” Mr. Moore answered. “The plans themselves have-quite mysteriously, of course-disappeared.”

The Doctor looked from Mr. Moore to me, his satisfaction and excitement obvious. “Well-interesting developments on all fronts!” He rushed over to the staircase, calling up, “Detective Sergeants! Cyrus! Downtown!” Then he turned to me. “Stevie, will you tend to Gwendolyn and then follow along behind us? We’ll walk down Broadway to Number 808, so that the detective sergeants and I can tell these two about your discoveries of this morning.”

“Okay,” I said, moving to the door to follow the order. “But I want to hear why the detective sergeants want that jacket!”

Miss Howard looked confused. “Jacket?”

The detective sergeants and Cyrus had reached the bottom of the stairs. “Back to Number 808, I take it?” Marcus asked.

“Indeed,” the Doctor said. “And quickly.”

They all began to file out as I went to the calash, Mr. Moore bringing up the rear at a slow pace. “I don’t suppose it’s lunchtime yet,” I heard him mumble pathetically. “God, I never would’ve believed that detective work could give you such an appetite. It’s no damned wonder so many cops are fat…”

I gave Gwendolyn a lighter-than-usual brushing down and stowed the harness and gear without bothering to clean it all, telling myself I’d tend to the job later. Then it was back outside, making sure the carriage house was securely locked, and on down Seventeenth Street toward Broadway, scanning the crowds of Monday-morning workers and shoppers for my friends. I finally caught up to them as they crossed Fourteenth Street from Union Square. My timing was a little slow, though: the Doctor and the detective sergeants had finished telling Kat’s story a couple of blocks earlier, and I’d just missed Miss Howard’s summary of what she and Mr. Moore had found downtown. She, however, very decently fell out of the pack to give me a quick repetition.