Chapter 23
BOGDAN
Tessa's bag fits on the dressing-room bench with room to spare.
I'd got used to finding her clothes among mine in the wardrobe. Now she folds the green dress with the pearl buttons into a bag I could carry in one hand.
I stand beside the door while she smooths the sleeves inside it.
“Klim can arrange somewhere with two rooms,” she says. “I want Peggy close.”
“You have somewhere here.”
Her hands stop on the dress. In the mirror I can see the effort it takes her to look at me, the small breath she draws before turning. She wears a plain dark sweater and trousers. Her hair is caught back from her face, leaving nothing for her to hide behind.
“I know what I have here.”
I come farther into the room. My watch catches against the open wardrobe door, a hard little knock that makes her look down again.
“I wanted to finish the inquiry before I frightened you. If I'd had proof, I could've dealt with him.”
“I read the papers, Bogdan.” She puts the dress away. “I'm not leaving because I didn't understand them.”
There should be an answer I can give her without begging. I keep reaching for one while she adds her toothbrush to the small pocket at the side. Last Sunday she'd wanted to stay in bed with me a little longer. I turned the clock away so she wouldn't have to think about leaving.
I want that woman to look up at me now.
Tessa closes the pocket. The sound of its zipper is small in a room where I've heard her laugh with her whole body. I almost tell her to leave the toothbrush, as if needing to come back for it would give me another chance.
My phone rings before I can make that worse.
Klim's name appears. I answer without moving away from her.
“Gilt & Gallows is burning,” he says. “Fire crews are there. Garrett got out with a burn. I'm on my way to meet the staff.”
For a moment I can't feel the phone against my ear. I look straight at Tessa, but what I see is the smaller club's rear store, the narrow spaces between the costume rails and the workers who'd be setting up for tonight.
“Everyone out?”
“Garrett says yes. I'll check the shift list against the people at the assembly point.”
“Call me when you've checked.”
Tessa has left the bag open. “What happened?”
I tell her, including Garrett. She reaches for the phone on the bench and calls Peggy before I've put on my coat. I hear her say to stay at the workshop with the guards, that we're going to the staff assembly point and she'll call again when we know more.
When she ends the call, she looks at me.
“We've got orders in their event store.”
“Stay with Matvei when we get there. Nobody goes near the building.”
She nods and closes her bag. Downstairs, Matvei takes it from her before opening the front door. I tell him where we're going, then watch him place it in the car as Tessa gets inside.
Thirty-five minutes pass before we reach the closed streets around the club. During the drive, Klim calls to confirm every worker on the shift is accounted for. I repeat it to Tessa while he's still on the line. She presses her fingertips to her mouth and asks him whether Garrett can speak.
He can. The paramedics are with him.
By the time we leave the car, the hoses already run along the street in thick wet curves. Police hold traffic beyond the junction. Water rattles against the building, with another heavy stream falling from above its roofline.
I have to stop looking at the flames to recognize my own entrance.
Gilt & Gallows was the smaller property, a low building where the bronze screens caught the light from the long bar. Through the missing front glass, one screen leans across what remains of a burgundy booth. Fire shows behind it, low and bright, where people would've been sitting in a few hours.
The gilt letters over the doors are still in place. Beneath them, black water runs over the step.
I start toward the cordon before a firefighter points me back up the street. The crew has marked the whole frontage off. Whatever authority my name carried through those doors yesterday ends at the barrier today.
Matvei brings Tessa beside me. Her hand touches my sleeve while we watch a section of ceiling fall behind the broken windows. I cover her fingers, holding them against my arm until Klim calls from the staff assembly point farther up the block.
The wind carries the smoke away from the workers.
They stand between the ambulance and the parked cars, wrapped in blankets over their work clothes.
Someone has brought out a stack of the blankets, and Tessa takes the folded bundle from beside the nearest car.
Matvei stays with her as she moves among the people waiting for news.
Garrett sits by the ambulance with a dressing over his left forearm. My club manager has his good hand clamped around the edge of the chair. He tries to lift the injured arm when he sees me, then stops and shuts his eyes.
I crouch beside him.
“They're all out,” he says. “Klim checked them. I didn't leave anyone.”
“I know.”
His lips part as he breathes through another wave of pain. A paramedic draws the stretcher closer. Garrett looks past my shoulder at the smoke, then makes himself look at me instead.
“The stock room went before we could get anything out. I was coming through the doorway when it caught my arm.”
I want to ask what started it, but the paramedic is ready to move him. The questions can wait until he's been treated. I put my hand briefly against the back of his right shoulder, careful to leave room for the paramedic.
“We'll take care of the club. You're going with them.”
Garrett nods. He lets go of the chair when they help him up. I stay until he's on the stretcher, then step aside as it rolls toward the ambulance.
Klim comes to stand beside me. “I'll send someone to the hospital.”
“Get him anything he needs. His pay continues.” I look toward the other workers. “All of theirs does. Make sure they hear it before they go home.”
Klim takes out his phone. I move to the people nearest the cars and tell them myself.
Nobody needs to wonder whether being lucky enough to get out means missing the rent.
The words come easily. I can arrange money, find shifts at the other club, keep this part of the loss from reaching their kitchens.
Garrett's ambulance pulls away before I've finished.
Tessa stands beside the remaining blankets, helping a worker tuck one around her shoulders. When she comes back to me, her hands are empty. She folds her arms across her sweater, pressing her palms against her sides.
“Garrett said the stock room's gone,” I tell her.
She looks at the building. “We've got finished orders in there. People are collecting them for private parties.”
Her voice sounds almost ordinary until she tries to say something else.
On Tuesday she'd brought lunch to my office and made me try on the waistcoat she was sewing.
There are customers waiting for that same attention in clothes she won't be able to deliver.
Paying for the fabric won't give her the hours back.
Across the cordon, the fire brightens along the edge of the roof.
A shout rises from the crews. People move away from the frontage, hauling a hose back along the pavement. The center of the roof drops behind the wall, vanishing so abruptly that I reach for Tessa before the sound catches up.
The crash drives through the street. A dark cloud bursts above the building, followed by sparks that rise against the daylight. The gilt sign hangs crooked as part of the wall above it breaks inward.
Tessa grips my coat. I bring her against me, one hand behind her head, while Matvei moves between us and the street. We're well beyond the barrier. I still can't stop holding her as the roof disappears into the rooms below it.
For several seconds, nothing I hear separates itself from the falling building.
Then the engine pumps become distinct again. Water strikes the wreckage. Somewhere behind us, a car alarm starts and keeps going until its owner shuts it off.
The club's front is an open shell.
Tessa lifts her face from my coat. She keeps one hand on me while she turns to look, and I want to mistake that need for forgiveness. I want it badly enough to keep my mouth shut until I can trust what I'll say.
Klim brings water from a car. The bottle gives beneath my grip, and I spill some before I get it to my mouth. It tastes warm and faintly of plastic. I swallow twice, trying to clear the dry scrape in my throat.
Tessa takes her own bottle. With both hands occupied, she steps out of my arms.
“Peggy needs to know about the stock,” she says.
Matvei walks with her to the shelter of the cars while she calls. I stay where I can see her.
My phone vibrates.
The message comes from Luka's number.
I had Gilt & Gallows burned. Your other doors can stay open if you accept.
I read it while water pours into the building he has just claimed to destroy. Heat rises through my shoulders, fierce enough that I have to lower the phone before I throw it into the street.
He wants me to call. He wants the sound of that roof behind my answer.
Instead I turn the screen toward Klim, then send him a copy of the message with Luka's number.
“Send this to Alison. Keep the message.”
He reads it and looks toward the police at the cordon. I leave him to make the transfer while I call Kirill.
“I've heard,” he says. “What do you need?”
I clear my throat before I answer. “Every broker still sending Luka work gets a choice today. They stop, or they lose our space and our help collecting their debts. Start with the men who heard him ask for my clubs.”
Kirill pauses. “They'll want to know whether you're going after him.”
“Tell them I'm taking away what keeps him in business.”
I end the call before anger can make me promise something for another man to repeat. Tessa is watching me from beside the car. When I reach her, I tell her what the message says.
She takes a breath through parted lips. “He burned it because you wouldn't give him a share?”
“He's claiming he did.”
Her gaze moves past me to the broken roof. I want to put her in the car and take her home, close every curtain, keep her where I can reach her. The bag waiting in the trunk makes that wish useless.
Klim comes back to the car. Alison has the message, and the officers here know about it. He'll arrange the account from Garrett when the hospital allows it. The cause of the fire remains for the investigators.
I ask about a hotel.
Tessa turns toward me before Klim can answer. For a moment I think she might say she's changed her mind.
“Somewhere Peggy can stay too,” she says.
“The Brass Camellia,” Klim replies. “I can speak to their manager about rooms and cover.”
I tell him to book a suite for Tessa and the room beside it for Peggy. When he goes to make the call, she asks me whether there will be somewhere to work on replacements.
“The Ninth Masque still has its fitting room. Use the reserve stock there. Send the material list and the rush charges. I'll pay them.”
She looks at the smoke again. “We can't remake weeks of work before tomorrow.”
“Then the bookings move or I cover the refunds. You don't owe me a miracle.”
Tessa presses her lips together. I reach for her hand and stop before making her decide whether to give it to me.
“Thank you,” she says.
I hate how carefully she says it.
By the time the cars are ready to leave, Klim has confirmed both rooms and arranged the guards with the hotel.
He also reports that Garrett has been admitted for treatment.
The workers have transport away from the block, and someone from my office is handling the calls about tonight's cancelled booking.
Tessa goes with Klim and Matvei. I follow in the second car, leaving the ruined club in the hands of men who can do something useful with it.
On the way, I authorize the wage money and the first replacement purchases.
Kirill sends confirmation that the brokers have been told. Their answers haven't come yet.
The return to Beacon Hill takes nearly forty minutes. At The Brass Camellia, warm light falls across the entrance tiles, with brass flowers worked into the handles of the inner doors. The smell of smoke comes in with us. I can feel it in the collar of my coat as we pass through to the small lounge.
Beyond an open interior door, lanterns hang above the courtyard planters. The hotel has dressed the sheltered tables for October, each with a dark glass candle cup. Tessa pauses to look, then turns toward the stairs when Klim brings her key card.
Peggy is still at the workshop under guard. Tessa calls her again, tells her the room is ready and asks her to come. I stand beside the lounge sofa with the bag Matvei took from the car.
I'd carried so little of Tessa's life into my house that I thought there would be time to bring the rest.
She ends the call and comes to me. The knitted cuff brushes my wrist as she takes the bag's handle, a stitch catching briefly against my ring.
I free it before it tears.
“Klim will be right outside,” I tell her.
“I know.”
She gives me a small, exhausted smile, then follows him upstairs. I remain beside the sofa until I can't hear her shoes anymore.
The space in my hand is still shaped around her bag.