He was too late. The Phantom was already far down the street. Pedestrians leaped out of the way as the driver made his reckless escape. Stone took off at a dead sprint, but there was no hope. Trinity was gone. He clenched his fists, shook with impotent rage. How was he going to find her? He turned and stalked back to the club, where Alex and Constance waited.
“Do you think it was somebody working for John Kane?” Alex said hotly.
“Where are they going with her?” Constance added, talking over him.
“Kane seems the most likely culprit, but I don’t know where to begin looking.”
Behind him, a woman spoke in a voice smooth as silk. “I can answer both of your questions.
Stone whirled around to face the woman. If any doubt about her identity had remained, now he knew for certain.
“Rose!”
14 The Brothel
Stone’s first instinct was to seize Rose by the collar and demand answers, but he knew that wouldn’t work on her. She was not easily intimidated. He took a deep breath, calmed himself.
“How are you alive?”
“That’s not important right now,” Rose said. “Your friend was taken by a collector, a man who works for a local man, what you might call a low-level crime boss. Most of the pickpockets in this part of town also work for him. But his most profitable business is much more unsavory.”
“Meaning?”
“He occasionally abducts people. The men he sells as slaves, and the women…”
Stone understood. “Tell me where I can find her.”
“I will show you the way.”
“I’ll handle it.” Stone didn’t want her help, didn’t deserve it.
“There’s little time. Not only can I take you there, I can get you inside,” Rose said.
“How?”
“He occasionally pays me to provide entertainment at his… club. Not that kind of entertainment. Only singing.”
“Fine.” Stone knew there was no arguing with her, and if she truly could get him inside, it would be worth it.
“What about me?” Alex said.
“He means, what about us,” Constance corrected. “Unlike Alex, I actually work in law enforcement.”
“Neither of you can come,” Rose said bluntly. “You both would stick out like sore thumbs, if for different reasons.” She held up a hand as the pair started to argue. “But you can help. Go two blocks that way, turn right, and look for the house with the purple door. Tell Iko that Rose needs transportation for five waiting at the docks. Run!”
To their credit, neither Alex nor Constance batted an eye. They took off down the street as fast as Constance could manage in her dress and heels.
“All right,” Stone said, “show me the way.”
Rose smirked. “First, you will need a disguise. Follow me.”
She led him to the back of the club and into a private dressing room. There, she gave him a russet-colored false beard and mustache, and slicked his hair straight back. She swapped his tight-fitted suit for one of the draped style that was becoming popular among young men around the world. He now wore a tartan vest that matched the pattern of the square of fabric she tucked into his breast pocket.
“I look ridiculous,” he said.
“That’s the general idea.” Rose cupped his chin and locked eyes with him. “Listen carefully. You are the wayward son of a rich American businessman. You are here celebrating your purchase of an old Scottish castle. The seller tricked you into believing you are now a Scottish lord. You’re the only one who isn’t in on the joke. You’re a buffoon. Shouldn’t be too difficult a role for you to play.”
“I understand.”
“Good. I’ll fill you in on the rest along the way.” She led him outside to a waiting Hudson Roadster. “You drive. It’s not strictly forbidden, but in this city, a woman behind the wheel draws far too much attention.”
Stone fired up the engine, pulled out onto the street, and hit the gas. He wanted to put the pedal to the floor, but discretion was in order. Assuming Rose could be trusted. Until now, it hadn’t occurred to him that she likely still held a grudge. What if she was in league with the abductor and this was all just a ruse to get Stone and his friends to a vulnerable place where they could be captured with ease?
He turned and gave Rose a long look. She didn’t turn away, didn’t even blink.
“Why are you doing this?” he asked.
Now she looked away. She cast her eyes toward the heavens, where the moon shone brightly above. “I owe you my life.”
“Quite the opposite, I would think.” Stone’s gut twisted at the memory.
Rose laughed. “You can lie to yourself, but not to me, Brock Stone.”
“How did you find out my real name?” Stone asked.
“I did some checking. Wasn’t all that difficult, mister football hero.”
Stone rolled his eyes. His youth felt so far away it seemed as if the memories belonged to someone else. They rode along the dark streets in silence. In the distance, Stone could see the Great Sphinx and the Pyramids of Giza bathed in moonlight.
“Did you ever go back to Paris?” Rose asked.
“Why would I do that?” Stone snapped.
“You mean the ‘universe’ never brought you back to her? How tragic. She was so certain that book was going to change your life.”
“It did.” A bitter taste filled Stone’s mouth. Rose was dredging up memories he’d buried. “And how do you know about that?”
“The ‘universe’ told her to take a walk by the Seine that night.”
Stone grimaced. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
They followed a dirt road that ran parallel to the Nile. At the outskirts of the city, they came to a wharf where fishing boats were moored.
“Not here.” Rose pointed south. “Just a bit farther upriver.”
They finally reached a private dock where a large paddle steamer sat at anchor. It was painted white, with double smokestacks and a stern paddle wheel. Painted on the hull in bright red letters was the name P.S. Tom Sawyer.
“Are we on the Nile or the Mississippi?” Stone asked.
“The owner is an avid reader of Mark Twain,” Rose explained. “He had it brought over from America.”
Stone shrugged. He too enjoyed the works of the famed American humorist, but he didn’t love having something in common with a criminal and a slaver. They parked near the riverbank and made their way on foot to the dock.
“Follow my lead,” Rose said. “Don’t get in a rush and remember your role.”
“Got it.” Stone hated blindly following orders. He had gotten his fill of them in the service. But he knew when he was out of his depth, and this was one such occasion.
Two guards armed waited at the end of the dock. They greeted Rose warmly. Their eyes climbed up and down her shapely figure, drinking in her beauty.
If Rose took notice, she didn’t let it show. She called each of them by name and asked after their wives and children. After pleasantries were exchanged, she introduced Stone as Lord Rockwell. She added a surreptitious wink that Stone pretended not to notice.
“A lord?” one of the guards asked. “From what country?”
“I’m American, but I have recently become Scottish nobility,” Stone said.
“He purchased it with his father’s money.” Rose rolled her eyes and the two guards snickered. “Lord Rockwell enjoys games of chance, although he claims he is not very good at them.” She gave Stone a condescending pat on the cheek.
“I play for fun,” Stone said. “It’s not really about the money for me.”
“In that case, you will find more than your share of entertainment aboard the Sawyer,” one of the guards said, his eyes twinkling with mirth. The pair stepped back and allowed them to pass.