“What about getting Houdini’s key?”
“He won’t be there today. I don’t know when or even if he’ll take the bait and . . .” He sits on the edge of the bed. “I’ve been thinking about what you said before. About how if there’s even a tiny risk, it’s not worth it.”
“So, when Houdini does show up, are you going to need my help?”
He narrows his eyes, clearly suspicious that I’m walking him into a trap. “Probably.”
“And are our odds better if I know what we’re doing? And a little about where and when we’re doing it?”
“Probably,” he repeats.
“You mean yes. We both know I’ll learn more about how to get around in 1905 with a few hours in the field than I’ll ever learn by you talking me through it.”
Kiernan is silent, but he doesn’t look convinced. I wait a moment and then sit next to him. “What if I promise to jump straight to Katherine’s if we encounter anything out of the ordinary? And since you’re the 1905 expert, I’ll leave that call entirely up to you. No questions asked.”
He snorts, and a smile lifts one corner of his mouth. “No questions? Is that possible for you?” He looks at me for a long moment and then sighs. “If we’re going to do this, you’d better get dressed, or we’ll miss the train.”
“So what exactly is it that you’re doing out at Norumbega?” I ask.
“How about I tell you once we’re on the train that we’re going to miss if we don’t hurry?”
He helps me into the dress, and then I take off my Skechers and slide them under the bed.
“How far is it?” I ask.
“To the train station? Maybe a mile.” Kiernan grabs a black drawstring bag, slings it over his shoulder, and then opens the door to the hallway. “After you.”
I step out, and Kiernan looks around to be sure that no one is watching. Then he reaches into the bag and pulls out a red-and-white tin of Johnson’s Baby Powder, crouching down to sprinkle a thin coating just inside the door. Next he takes out a piece of newspaper and tears off a small strip. He licks it thoroughly and plasters the wet ribbon of paper across the seam between the door and the wall before locking the door and dropping the key into his bag.
“So you want to tell me what that was all about?”
“Security system of sorts. If someone’s been in the room when I’m not here, I’ll know.”
“And you do that entire routine every time you leave the room?”
“Only way to be sure.”
“Yeah, but if it’s Prudence or one of her crew, would they go in through the door?”
“Probably not. But Pru had one stable point set, and it’s behind that red curtain. She agreed to erase it, but even if she kept her word, I’m guessing Simon has it, too. At any rate, that stable point is booby-trapped, too. I can’t stop them from coming in, but if they do, I’ll know they’ve been there. And so far, so good. I can’t guarantee they aren’t using that stable point to watch the room, but if they are, they’re only seeing the red drape. And now, on occasion, they’re seeing me naked.”
“Better them than me,” I say, and he laughs.
I can’t shake the feeling, however, that his precautions are pointless. Prudence or Simon could set a stable point in this hallway. They could be watching us right now. That thought makes my skin crawl, and I glance back over my shoulder. I suspect I’m being paranoid, but then again, how would we know? I look back one more time and then shake my head, following Kiernan down the hall.
The stairwell is kid-free this time, so we manage to escape without pleas for candy. We step out, and the sky is clear, with a few clusters of clouds. The first half mile or so is a mix of apartment buildings and small stores similar to those we saw on the way from Jess’s tobacco shop. I manage to avoid outright gawking, but there’s still something that catches my eye on each block, whether it’s a poster advertising something I recognize, like Schlitz beer or Fig Newtons, or the fact that cars already have license plates. That makes sense, I guess, but it hadn’t even occurred to me.
We turn onto Harrison Avenue, and Kiernan nods to a cluster of newer buildings across the street. Through the gaps between two of the buildings, I see some toddlers playing in a small, fenced garden.
“That’s the headquarters of the local settlement house, South End. A few years back, kids that age would have been on the street all day, while their parents worked in the factories, but now they get breakfast, lunch, and someone to make sure they don’t tumble into the river. Of course, they could take in even more kids if Cyrist House hadn’t lured away some of their donors.”
“Cyrist House?”
“Yeah, it’s in the West End. Their original plan was to co-opt this house, but the leaders resisted, like Hull House did in Chicago. Jane Addams was willing to make a lot of compromises to keep Hull House up and running, but she drew the line at serving up a helping of ‘Praise Cyrus’ with the stew each night.”
Okay, I know Jane Addams was, by all accounts, a wonderful person. Unfortunately, I can’t help but shudder, because every time I hear her name, I automatically think about H. H. Holmes. Not that she was anything like Holmes, in fact, she was pretty much the direct opposite. It’s just that Trey and I watched a documentary about her work at Hull House when I was trying to clear my mind of the really creepy DVD we’d just seen about Holmes and the World’s Fair Hotel. Trey made a quip about preferring “Hull House” over “Hell House,” and now the two are forever linked in my mind.
“Did you know Jane Addams when you were in Chicago?” I ask.
“Not really. I held the door open for her once after a meeting with Prudence—Older Pru, maybe ten years older than when you met her at the Fair. Pru was offering a big chunk of money to buy out Hull House. Even though they agreed on a lot of issues, Addams politely told Pru to go to hell. Addams wanted to help people regardless of their religious views, and it was clear that there were pretty thick Cyrist strings attached to the deal.”
“And the same thing happened here at South End?”
Kiernan starts to answer, but we have to maneuver around a horse cart and a trolley. Once we’re back on the sidewalk, he says, “I’m not entirely sure what happened at South End. It was before I moved to Boston, so I wasn’t in on the negotiations. Simon helped set up the West End Cyrist House, recruiting a bunch of college students to run it.”
“Simon?” The name sets my teeth on edge. I have a hard time picturing him negotiating business deals, except, of course, with monsters like H. H. Holmes.
“Yeah, well, Simon does whatever he’s told. He wants to lead Cyrist International when Saul is gone, so when Saul says jump, Simon says how high.”
“So—do they know you’re back here? In Boston?”
He shrugs. “Pru knows. I’ve no clue what she shares with the others these days. But she believes I’ve lost most of my ability to operate the key. And I think I’ve done a pretty solid job of convincing her that I don’t remember the other timeline. Pru’s got a bunch of Cyrist toadies at her beck and call, and she’s got her pride, too. She’d take me back into that circle if I asked, but she’s not gonna beg me.”
“So why does she think you warned me on the Metro? That day when Simon grabbed my backpack? You said they knew what you’d done.”
Kiernan looks back down at the sidewalk and presses his lips together. “This isn’t anything I can prove, Kate. It could have been entirely accidental that I found out what they were planning. But Pru was the one who delayed me in the hallway and led me in that direction. If she hadn’t, I’d never have overheard Simon.”