“Missing–One Black Cat”

Chapter 4

(Setting: London, England)

Florian and Laila were exhausted when they arrived in London. Michel, due to leave for the Orient, certainly would have canceled his plans and transported them personally had he known of the urgency, but neither of them wanted to divulge the secret of Ray’s disappearance, even to his cousin. Especially to his cousin would likely have been Ray’s opinion of the matter. So, they merely told Michel they’d missed the ship Ray had arranged for them to take in order to meet him in London, and therefore they had to get to London as quickly as possible so he wouldn’t be angry at them. Well, Florian had said “angry” but Laila, the better actress, had rolled her eyes, and mouthed, “furious” behind Florian’s back.

After laughing at how his cousin made his household jump to do his bidding, Michel had secured them passage on the first available ship crossing the channel from Calais. He even arranged for his carriage to take them there, sparing Florian a smelly train ride. Of course, it wasn’t a particularly smooth crossing and Florian was a very bad sailor, becoming ill as soon as they weighed anchor. But, he gritted his teeth and bore it as best he could. Laila, repressing all thoughts about how different it was traveling with him than with the robust Noir, was able to charm the first mate into bringing her some hot water, and she made Florian drink some of her soothing herbal tea. He accepted it thankfully and tried to not resent her unladylike vigor as she strode jauntily around the deck, talking cheerfully to the sailors.

Both of them were relieved to set foot on England’s shore. They immediately hired a carriage to take them to the address in London where Sugar’s wire had said he was staying.

Once there, Florian was feeling faint and nauseous; pretty much as he always did after traveling any significant distance, especially over water. In this case, his concern about Ray added to his stomach distress. But, his innate good manners made him insist that Laila sit down on one of the large wingback chairs in the lobby while he went to the desk to check in and inquire discreetly after their friends. Laila was too tired from taking care of him on the trip to make even a token protest. Instead, she sank wearily into the cushions and closed her eyes briefly. It was only late morning but she hadn’t slept at all the night before...or the night before that.

While Florian stood at the counter and had a low-voiced conversation with the clerk on duty, Laila’s attention was caught by a swarthy, brutish looking man standing only a few feet away, slightly behind her chair and to the left. She peered around the tall side of the chair to get a better look at him. Tall, with broad shoulders and meaty looking hands, he had the look of a professional boxer. He was talking rather urgently to an overly made up woman.

“Maisy, I’m telling you, the Boss said I was to find a blond guy with a dame who looked foreign. But there’s been all kinds in here already today. That guy’s the third blond already. I knew it would be like this! Just my luck. You sure about the eye color?”

“Sure, I’m sure.”

Laila slouched back down into the cushions, hoping the man hadn’t seen her when she came in. It didn’t seem like he had; he’d been too busy talking to the woman and then his attention was caught by Florian. She was grateful that she’d followed Noir’s rule about dressing Anglo when going into a city among unknown people. She still stood out with her dark skin and Eastern features, but at least her “foreign” appearance was far less noticeable when she conformed enough to wear Western fashion...and feminine fashions at that! She vowed never to complain to Noir about the silly shoes and skirts again! Her attention was drawn back to the bickering couple.

“You’d better be better than sure, because if you’re wrong about these green eyes, I’m just telling you, you’re gonna be one sorry dame.” His voice got louder as he shook his fist at the woman.

“And I’m telling you, Nicky, that you must have heard your creepy boss wrong, and thinking absinthe was amethyst. You never do listen so good.”

Laila winced at the high pitched nasal whine that carried easily through the small lobby. In that voice, with its harsh Liverpool accent, the two words did sound kind of the same, Laila mused. She covered her mouth as the woman continued.

“Whoever heard of a bloke with amethyst colored eyes? He must have said absinthe colored eyes, though why he couldn’t just have said green like any normal bloke is beyond me!”

Laila risked a peek around the other side of the chair and saw that Florian had stiffened and was keeping his head angled towards the other side as he talked, away from the couple. Good. She knew he had excellent hearing. Now she had to hope the clerk didn’t, or at least that he had no reason to alert the pair to the existence of a blond man with amethyst colored eyes in that very room.

“Well, if there’s one thing Azura ain’t, it’s a normal bloke. Keep your eyes peeled then for a guy with green eyes. He’ll lead us to Noir, he said. You’d better hope you’re right about the absinthe or I’m a dead man.”

A few minutes later, Laila heard footsteps approaching. Peeping from behind a handy newspaper that someone had left behind, she saw that Florian had come near, but then turned and was looking toward the dining room at the other end of the lobby, as though considering a meal. With a subtle nod, as though making up his mind, he headed over to the dining room, leaving Laila alone. She was relieved. She had been afraid his chivalry would have made him walk right up to her – the worst thing he could have done. She’d hoped he would have put his hat back on, low, to shield his eyes, but no such luck.

Laila rolled her eyes, disgusted. Expecting the Duke de Rochefort to wear a hat indoors merely because it might save his hide? How silly of her. Then she sighed. She should count her blessings. At least he hadn’t walked up and introduced himself to the villains! Ray and she had been a good influence on the little lord after all.

Giving Florian a head start, she waited a moment, then Laila got up and casually walked out the front door, hoping that Florian had been able to figure out a way to escape from the dining room – other than from the same way he went in, that is.

To Laila’s surprise, when she stepped outside and looked up and down the street, she immediately saw Florian’s slim form. There he was, hat pulled low over his distinctive eyes, arms folded across his chest, casually leaning against the corner of the building to her right. She almost giggled – he looked like he was imitating Noir! As soon as she was sure she was out of sight of the couple inside the hotel’s lobby, she hurried over to him, smiling.

“What’s so funny? Didn’t you hear those two? You must have! That woman had a voice that would shatter glass! And that bruiser!” Florian shuddered. “You heard whom he mentioned, didn’t you?”

“Of course! I was right under their ugly noses, wasn’t I?”

“Then why are you smiling? Ray and Solomon aren’t at the hotel. Their room was ransacked yesterday, the clerk told me, but all that was left of them were some sheets! Dangling outside the window of all things!”

“Was that all the clerk told you? You were talking a while.” Laila was back to business. In truth, she found that good news, as well as the presence of the bruiser and his stupid girlfriend. A searching Azura was one who didn’t presently have Ray in his clutches. The news could be worse...much worse.

Florian frowned. “Just that he really didn’t have much time to spare for me...but then he kept talking! I don’t think Solomon chose very wisely. Apparently there were several crimes in that hotel yesterday. Would you believe in addition to the room being ransacked that Ray and Solomon were in, other guests had their rooms broken into too? Just clothes from what he said, but still! Disgraceful!”

He looked at Laila, who was beaming from ear to ear. Maybe he’d better find her a place to rest and eat before they continued their search for Ray and Solomon. She must be getting light-headed, he decided.
 

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