Page 71 of The Ambiguous Enigma of the Hunted Lady
All he knew is that another blow struck him over the chin, and a pair of muscle-bound arms hauled him to his feet. They slammed him against the wall and finally the room was still for a moment.
He could see Digby, lying motionless on the cistern floor. There were the orphans, all corralled up on the far side by some hulking thugs.How could I be so foolish? I should have been awake!
“Nash, Nash, Nash.” Riphook's dark cackle came out of the blackness.
“Boss?” Nash was dizzy, his vision was spinning, and yet he clearly saw the face of the same man who only an evening ago was praising him and paying him.
“You lied to me, Nash, why did you do that?” Riphook walked up close to him.
“I didn't lie.” Nash pleaded, rolling his head from side to side. He was terribly disorientated.
“Look me in the eye when I speak to you.”
The faceless arms holding him aloft raised him up so that his feet left the ground, and Riphook took hold of Nash's face. He held it steady in front of his, staring into his eyes.
“Leah's not dead, Nash. Did you know that?”
“No.” Nash squeaked between Riphook's iron grip on his jaw.
“I suppose this doctor wasn't so trustworthy after all, hmm?”
“Boss, I–” Nash was struggling to keep his head right. He had been hit hard; his jaw was beginning to swell, and speaking was difficult.
“I don't want your bloody excuses.” Riphook spat in his face. “You don't got what it takes, sorry there, chap.”
Riphook pulled back his fist and struck Nash square in the nose. The two men dropped him, and Nash fell to the floor in a crumpled puddle.
“This outfit is over.” Riphook snarled into the room. “You lot work for me now, not him, you understand?”
The orphans were terrified, yet Nash knew they understood the pecking order of things. They would do what they had to for survival. They all nodded along to Riphook's announcement.
“Now get out of here.” he snapped, and a few thugs escorted the gaggle of orphans out of Nash's sight. “Oh, Nash, I was so hopeful just then, so hopeful.” He paced around Nash on the floor.
Nash cracked one of his eyes open and flailed towards Digby, trying to call out to him.
“Don't worry, he's only sleeping.” Riphook sighed. “What did I tell you Nash? Hmm? Don't make me look like a bleedin' idiot. And that's what you did. With the first thing I gave you.”
Riphook crouched down and yanked the coin purse from Nash's rags.
“No reward for nothing done.” Riphook chuckled. “Feels a bit lighter though, don't it? How much did you spend? No matter, I'll count it and send you an invoice,” Riphook began cracking himself up again. “Here's the skinny there, lad. Now you ain't nothin' again. Now you owe me. Now you're going to find me that doctor so that he and I can have a bit of a chat, you hear?”
“Boss, please–” Nash grunted, struggling to sit up in his hazy, concussed state.
“I said I don't want your excuses!” Riphook kicked the cook top clear through the room, sending the still smoldering grease splashing over Nash's face. The burn of the grease was worse than the sting of his nose, and he wailed out with pain. “Now bring me that doctor!”
Nash cried as Riphook stalked away into the night. He sobbed as he endured the lingering pain of the burn and the blows, huddled in a ball deep beneath the streets of London.
He had imagined that nothing like this would ever happen to him again, that he had finally risen above all this suffering, at least for a single day of his life.
All of the confidence that he had built in the warmth of Riphook's praise had gone. It had dissipated in the wind like the scent of a pie on a swift summer breeze. In one brutal moment he had become alone again, crushingly alone, and nothing he could do would reverse it.
Years of trust, of being in the right place at the right time, of knowing when to say what to whom, of not stepping on the wrong person's toes, all of it had amounted suddenly to nothing.
Nash knew this moment could be coming for a long while. He had reached the age at which, among the London gutters, young men either died a violent death, joined the army, or prospered into a facet of the underground.
For years now, Nash had been looking over his shoulder, knowing that any moment, this moment could come. Yet earlier, in Riphook's office, he had been given the encouragement he needed to push forward through the cloud of doubt. For one glorious afternoon and evening, he had made it; he was safe, and he was going to live a successful life.
In the space of four minutes, Nash's self being was utterly shattered.
