“Missing–One Black Cat”

Chapter 3

(Setting: London, England)

At the first sounds of a scuffle coming from the hallway, Noir lifted his head from the soft pillow on which he’d been resting it. By the time the shout came, he’d already jumped from the bed and had run lightly to the door. Pressing his ear to the thin wood, he heard the sound of heavy footsteps coming closer. Looking around the room for something to use in case his new protector’s attacker should come into the room, which seemed highly likely, the lock he slid into place notwithstanding, his eyes fell upon a heavy ebony cane that must have been left behind by the room’s prior occupant. Perfect.

Noir was about to take up his position behind the door to surprise whoever entered, when he caught the sounds of two men talking outside it. He frowned. Two men changed the odds significantly. He hesitated, looking at the window and considering how far up the room might be from the ground when another plan formed. Did he dare?

Then his sharp hearing picked up the words being spoken on the other side of the doorknob as the men tried to turn it in vain.

“You think he’s in there?”

“Has to be...they came in together...Boss says the Frenchman wouldn’t have let him out of his sight once he found him.”

“But he went off to the head like that, Nick, wouldn’t the guy have slipped his lead like he did on me and Joe?”

“Probably’s got him tied up like you, only not like you cos he probably did a better job of it. Joe sure got his when the Boss found the guy gone after all the trouble he’d gone to gettin’ ‘im in that condition and all, before the Boss could even see him like that. See if that creepy doctor with that voice did his work right. All’s I know is he gave me the shivers as bad as the Boss. You got that lock picked yet or what?”

The exchange caused Noir to shake. He thought he’d recognized the first man’s voice; now he knew it. He had gotten away from him before. He wasn’t sure of much, but he knew the other place was bad and the tall fair haired man, for all his strangeness in seeming to know Noir when Noir had no recollection of him at all, was far better than the other place.

Glancing at the window to the room, he moved quickly to it, silent on his bare feet. He swung open the casement and looked out. A twenty foot drop. Not impossible. As the door rattled ominously, he scanned the room for something he could use to improve his plan. The sheets. Perfect.

Knotting them rapidly, since it was apparent the thugs had abandoned their attempt at picking the lock that Noir could have been through in seconds, and were now attempting to break through the door as quietly as possible. Noir wondered why no one had come yet and found the fair haired man. They must have disposed of him in the bathroom.

Finishing with his knotting of the bedsheets, he dropped one end out the window and tied the other to the bedpost. He then dropped a shoe out the window for good measure. Pleased with his efforts he hid behind a tall chest of drawers on the far side of the room. It offered scant protection but he was counting on the men rushing right in and going straight to the window. From the way they were battering the door, he didn’t feel too confident that hiding behind it was a good idea any longer.

His instincts were good. With a final strong blow from the two men’s bodies hitting it together, the lock didn’t give but the door’s hinges did, and it fell open from the wrong side! The side where Noir had been standing with the cane raised high a few minutes earlier. From his new hiding place, behind the chest, he grinned as the two men fell to the ground in a awkward pile. He briefly considered whether he should try rushing past them and out of the room, but again, he trusted to his instincts to stay where he was. Besides, he felt strangely reluctant to leave his new protector behind, at least not without first determining if he was alive or dead.

Noir held his breath as the two men cursed at each other and clambered to their feet. As he’d hoped, they ran directly to the window, bumping and pushing into each other in their rush, the one man almost falling out, he leaned so far over in his effort to look out.

“He’s gotten away, he has! Look, you can see his bloody shoe! Quick, he must have run off that way, let’s get after him. How far could he get on one shoe?”

They ran out without a backward glance. Noir waited a few minutes then he cautiously crept out into the hallway, still clutching the ebony cane. The hallway was empty. Of course, it was the middle of the day when few people were in their hotel rooms and the hotel staff had completed their cleaning duties for the day, but still, it was odd that no one had inquired about the noise. Noir shook his head and wondered how he knew that. He had to find the man Sugar and get them both out of this strange place.

Noir went to the door marked Water Closet and opened it gingerly. There, sitting propped against the wall, was the fair haired man, eyes closed, blood dripping from somewhere on the back of his head, staining his white collar. Noir crouched by his side, his green eyes narrowed in concern.

“M’sieur, M’sieur!” Noir tried shaking him gently. “M’sieur Sugar, wake up, we must get away, maintenant!” He shook him more forcefully. Getting no response, he stood and went to the washbasin. Using one of the towels that were stacked nearby, he wet it with cold water and applied it to the large lump that was forming on the back of the other man’s head. He used a second towel to bathe the front of his face liberally with the cold water, relieved when the light blue eyes started to flicker.

“Ray...must get to Ray.” Solomon bolted upright, moaning in pain the moment he did. Noir crouched down again and gave him a shoulder to lean on.

“You are hurt. Lean on me. We must go away as quickly as you are able, m’sieur, they...the others, the bad ones...they are after me.”

Solomon looked at Ray, his senses coming back to him. Somehow, Ray must have gotten past the men in the hall and to him here. Despite the pain in his aching head, Solomon had to smile. His black cat really was quite amazing. Leaning on the shoulder that was wiry and strong for all its thinness, Solomon pulled himself to his feet. He fought off the nausea that the head pain caused.

“I think you are quite right. My bath must wait and we must find a new hotel. The accommodations here leave something to be desired. I believe we must go back for my bag, however, and some fresh clothes. Shoes for you.”

Noir smiled at him, a captivating smile, that made the detective forget his aching head.

“I think I should perhaps look in one of these rooms for a pair of shoes...unless m’sieur travels with a spare pair?”

Perplexed but not deeming it worth untangling at the moment, Solomon let Noir lead him back to their room. He looked bemused at the door, lying askew on the floor, and watched as Noir efficiently packed his belongings into his carryall, along with some items from the hotel. He made no comment when Noir expertly picked a lock on a couple of the hotel rooms and helped himself to a new set of clothes as well as a pair of shoes. Newly outfitted, and carrying the ebony cane, he was beginning to look much more like his usual self. On a whim, Solomon grabbed a top hat from the bed of the last room Noir broke into and put it into his bag. The younger man looked at him questioningly.

“For later,” he said. He was given that smile again. Really, Solomon thought, as they slipped down the servants’ stairs and out the back entrance, the whole episode must only have taken about thirty minutes from the time he left the room for his bath to the time Noir and he completed their own search of the other guests’ rooms. No wonder no one ever caught the Master Thief Noir. If he was this fast when not fully himself, one could only marvel at how swift he must be when at his full capacity!

As the two men left the hotel, keeping close watch for any followers this time, Solomon tried to think of their next step, and how best to get word to Florian and Laila of their change in plans!
 

* * *

The whip cracked mercilessly across the mid-section of the large man who’d just completed reporting his failure to “the Boss.”

His scream of pain brought no smile to the handsome visage, a bad sign for the man. Repeated cracks of the whips brought more screams, until finally the screams stopped. The whip continued for some time after that. The man’s partner in failure was a trembling, whimpering wreck long before that point was reached. But to his surprise, the Boss didn’t even spare him a glance. He merely cast his whip down and with a look, gave the command to have the remains of his punishment taken from his presence. His men knew what to do.

Joe had failed his Boss twice. That was unforgivable. Nick vowed that he would not do the same.

The quiet voice spoke to him.  “You will have another chance. I am expecting others to show up at that hotel. They should arrive some time tomorrow, possibly in the morning, possibly even in the middle of the night tonight. A blond man and a foreign woman. You will not capture them. You will follow them to where my Noir is and report back to me.”

Nick swallowed. A blond man and a woman, even a foreign woman did not seem like a particularly distinctive description. He dared to ask a question, afraid to do so, but knowing that to follow the wrong couple would be a worse mistake. “Boss, sir, how will I know it’s the right blond guy and foreign woman? Just saying there could maybe be more than one...just in case?”

“There will not be more than one like this blond man. His eyes are the color of Amethysts. You do know what Amethysts are, don’t you?”

“Yes, Azura, sir.”

“Good. Then find the blond man with the Amethyst eyes and he will lead us to my Noir.”
 

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