For the flicker of an instant, the winter in those pale blue eyes flared into a blaze of hatred. It was enough to make Rory shrink back but Mrs. Van Hallsburg was quick to veil the alarming expression.
“I didn’t seek you out to discuss John. I came here for other reasons.”
Rory frowned. “I can’t imagine what they might be.”
“Necessity compels me to leave New York. I need to put distance between myself and the city quickly. In short, I need to avail myself of your unique services, Miss Kavanaugh.”
“You mean you want me to-to?—”
“Get one of your balloons ready immediately.”
Rory stared, unable to believe the arrogance of the woman, coming to her, of all people, and asking, no, demanding such help. Her fear of Mrs. Van Hallsburg was lost in a rush of indignation.
“Are the police after you?” Rory asked bluntly.
“Not yet, to my knowledge. That hardly concerns you.”
“The hell it doesn’t. I’m running a balloon company, not an escape service for fugitives.”
“Yet you aided John Morrison in his flight from the law. I see no reason you cannot accomplish the same for me.”
No reason at all except that Rory would have aided Jack the Ripper to escape before she would have lifted one finger to help Mrs. Van Hallsburg.
She pushed abruptly to her feet. “I am sorry,but you came to the wrong place.”“
“I don’t think so.” Mrs. Van Hallsburg tugged loose the drawstrings of her beaded purse.
Rory regarded her with scorn. “You may as well put your purse away, Mrs. Van Hallsburg. There isn’t any amount you could pay that would induce me to help you.”
“Oh, it isn’t money that I mean to offer you, my dear.” With a thin smile, Mrs. Van Hallsburg drew forth a small revolver and aimed it straight at Rory’s heart.
Something was wrong.Duffy shifted uneasily, watching from the shadow of the stairs the sudden flurry of activity in the warehouse as the two lads hustled to ready one of those mammoth balloons for launching from the dock. Rory’s interview with Mrs. Van Hallsburg seemed to have stretched out to an interminable length. Duffy might have rejoiced, hoping that Miss Kavanaugh possessed a good enough memory to recall all that was being said. But his satisfaction was marred by that disturbing moment when both women had appeared on the upper landing.
Duffy had kept out of sight while Rory shouted down the terse command. “Prepare the Seamus. I’m taking it up.”
When the boy named Angelo had sought to question this order, Miss Kavanaugh had nearly took his head off before vanishing back into the office with Mrs. Van Hallsburg.
Duffy’s own confusion was apparent in the two young men, hard at work, hooking up some kind of generator thing to the gas bag of the balloon.
“Geez, what’s the matter with Rory, Pete?” Angelo was saying. “First she tells us to get a move on with the packing, now she insists she wants the balloon ready.”
“I dunno,” Pete replied. “I wish Tony would get back here. Rory always explains things to him.”
“Not lately. Rory hasn’t been right in the head since she fell in love with that Morrison,” Angelo grumbled. “She doesn’t even remember she dropped the Seamus into the ocean, that the only balloon left fit for travel is the Katie Moira.”
Pete’s face lit up with sudden inspiration. “Hey, maybe that rich woman up there is giving her some kind of commission. Maybe we won’t have to move after all.”
“I guess that must be it.”
The boys appeared satisfied enough that they worked more swiftly. Only Duffy remained uneasy. Maybe he shouldn’t haveleft Rory alone with that woman. Maybe he ought to burst up there and see what was going on. But if Rory was learning anything from Mrs. Van Hallsburg, his appearance would ruin everything.
Yet what would Rory want her balloon for all of a sudden? Duffy didn’t believe for a moment Pete’s naive suggestion that the Van Hallsburg woman wanted to hire one of the contraptions.
Yet who could guess what might be running through the lady’s mind? Mrs. Van Hallsburg must be under a tremendous amount of pressure owing to his investigations. Duffy had seen people do some really crazy things when their world threatened to crumble apart, even ones as ice-blooded as Mrs. Van H.
His nervousness mounting, Duffy inched toward the stairs just as the warehouse door creaked. He hoped it was that Tony kid returning. A little older, he appeared to have more sense than those other two boys. As the door opened to reveal a pair of broad shoulders, Duffy experienced a feeling of relief. Better than the Tony kid, it was Morrison.
Zeke didn’t enter with his usual arrogant stride, but lingered on the threshold, as though unsure of himself, expecting to be tossed out on his ear. His clothes were so rumpled he looked as though he had spent the past few hours being steam pressed in hell. But that was nothing compared to the haggard expression on his face, the craters beneath his eyes, the clear signs of a man who had been on an all-night binge.
