The Gadget: The Rondon Chronicles Book One V. Timlin (mobi reader .txt) 📖

“Thanks for coming to my rescue, Nat. I know it wasn’t easy since the madam was your long-time friend and an important contact.”

“No need to thank me. That’s what partners do. By the way, you handled One-Eye well.”

“No need to thank me.”

Nat lifted his gaze from his plate and arched his eyebrows. Anouk returned his flat look with a grin.

Vari chuckled. “I’m glad to see your partnership is thriving.”

Anouk blushed. If Vari only knew what happened in that carriage… not that she came across as a matchmaker, but she might think Anouk was unprofessional. Which she certainly had been.

Dating co-workers had always been something she avoided like the plague. It made things complicated, especially in the case of breakups. She had witnessed it many times. The latest was when Alison broke up with her boyfriend who worked in the same department. The memory still made her squirm—the aftermath had been ugly.

She glanced at Vari and Fitzwil who were eating and chatting with Nat.

“Yes, there is a message on the Communicator. It peeped some time ago,” Fitzwil replied between bites to something Nat had just said.

Nat looked at Anouk, surprise in his eyes. “Oh? Rose has new information already?”

After the meal, Nat and Anouk climbed in the caravan. Nat took a brass box from a cabinet and laid it on the table. The apparatus was about nine inches long, six inches wide and four inches thick. A keyboard, rotators and two switches with symbols covered the instrument. On the upper part, a narrow rectangular screen reached the width of the box.

Anouk whistled. “So that’s the Communicator? It looks a bit like an Enigma machine, but smaller.”

“Really? Is that what you call your Communicators?” Nat asked and turned one of two switches. The screen on the top lit up.

“Well, not exactly. Enigma was a version, half a century ago.” Anouk saved herself from explaining things that were beyond her technical knowledge. Besides, Nat looked more keen on seeing what the message was, not getting a history lesson. Judging by the concentrated frown on his face when he handled the Communicator, Anouk was sure he hadn’t even heard her reply.

He flicked another switch. “Now we have to be careful to catch the whole message because it will be gone after we have read it.”

Anouk leaned closer and craned her neck. Pulsing letters and words started to run from right to left. The jumping motion of the words forced Anouk to strain her eyes.

A message from Rose Tarandus to Nat Walla [stop] I know where he is [stop] come as soon as possible [stop]

Anouk’s breath caught and she looked up at Nat. He met her eyes, a wolfish grin on his face. “Let’s go.”

Chapter 16

A horse-drawn taxi dropped Anouk and Nat at the edge of The Pits. The late afternoon sun shone through the haze of smoke. The smog was thinner than the day before when Anouk and Nat had visited Rose. Either the wind was cleaning the air, or people were using less coal on this warm day.

The traffic and the noise were the same though. People, carriages, wagons, and even a large pig squeezed into the narrow streets. Honks, clip-clops, hisses and chuffs, obscenities, greetings and gossip echoed around Anouk forming a chaotic soundscape. It wasn’t unpleasant. On the contrary, Anouk revelled in it as much as she had the chaos of Mumbai. Only the streets of The Pits weren’t as colourful.

One thing she couldn’t bring herself to savour though was the acrid odour of urine and rot the warm spring day had accentuated. Anouk wrinkled her nose. The stink on a hot summer’s day would be even worse. In the Middle Ages, they had warned about toxic fumes; the smell was just a by-product of the decomposition process, and things much more sinister skulked among the waste and rodents. She wasn’t going to ask Nat if his government kept records about cholera outbreaks or other deaths and diseases caused by poor sanitation. He already found her fascination with statistics—as he put it—odd; she preferred to call it healthy curiosity. After all, she was a numbers person.

They turned the corner and Rose’s house came into view. Nat stopped dead, and his body tensed. Anouk’s heart missed a beat. She darted looks around. People went by, minding their own business. Nothing seemed amiss.

“What’s the matter?”

“Captain Biddulph,” Nat growled and slipped his revolver from his waist.

“Who? Where?”

Instead of replying, Nat broke into a run.

“Nat, wait,” Anouk called, but his pace visibly quickened. “Bloody hell,” she muttered and sprang after him before he disappeared out of her sight.

Curses and screams followed when Nat pushed forward, pursuing the fleeing man. Anouk did her best to keep up with him, blurting hasty apologies when Nat or she knocked someone over. A fist flew towards her and she ducked under, escaping before another one would find her.

The captain raced through the streets, tearing through the chaos without regard for the bodies he pushed through or the curses left in his wake. The disarray around Anouk made it impossible to have a better look at the man without stumbling or losing Nat. Who was this Captain Biddulph? Anouk got the gist he wasn’t Nat’s bosom friend, but the naked rage on Nat’s face and this blind, reckless chase got her worried. That was an understatement. She was scared. Nat wasn’t behaving like his usual self.

Nat turned the corner, away from her field of vision. When she reached the same junction, Nat was nowhere to be seen. Her stomach clenched. She shot glances around, seeking any signs of him. All she saw were people coming and going, looking unconcerned. A panic seeped through her whole body. Where the hell was he? Had she taken a wrong turn? But that couldn’t be possible.

Gunfire echoed in front of her.

“No!”

The street emptied as people scurried to safety. A short distance away, Anouk saw three men circling Nat, pointing guns at his face. Anouk ducked behind