The Double Vice: The 1st Hidden Gotham Novel Chris Holcombe (top 10 best books of all time .txt) 📖

“Because I’m like you. Because . . . I had a very unwelcome home too.”

Especially towards the end.  

Karl scrunched up his face, but this time, he couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down his pink-suffused cheeks. “Not like this.”

Dash reached out and laid a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder. Karl recoiled from the touch, almost falling against the toilet.

Dash held up his hands in apology. “I don’t want to hurt you. I can help, if you’d let me.”

“No one can help me. They tried to help, they all tried to, but it didn’t work and now, now I have nowhere else to go—”

“Who tried? Your friends?”

Karl’s response was made unintelligible by his sobs.

Dash tried another tact. “Were you going to move out? Was someone going to take you in?”

A low moan like a barge horn hummed from Karl’s chest. “You don’t understand.”

“But I do.”

“No! You don’t!”

Dash wasn’t getting anywhere. He needed Karl to calm down so he could get Walter out of his club.

“I will go back out there and tell your brother you are not here. You can stay in the club for as long as you like. My doorman, Atty? He can go outside and make sure your brother isn’t waiting for you on the street. And then you can leave and safely rejoin your friends. For now, just stay here. Can you do that?”

It took effort, but the tears managed to subside enough for Karl to nod.

Dash nodded in return. “I will return shortly.”

He left the water closet, closing the door behind him. A strange emotion filled his chest, a mix of sadness and regret.  I can’t go back there! Dash had uttered those same words as well when he was near that age.

The band members weren’t at their instruments. Probably using the fight as an excuse to grab a drink. Dash didn’t blame them. He wanted one as well. Instead of accepting various drink offers from granite men or returning the fanciful gazes of porcelain boys, he entered the tailor shop’s changing area again, preparing himself for the lies he had to tell a man who most likely wouldn’t believe them.

Joe gave him a harsh look. “Took ya long enough.”

Atty had returned the pistol to his front trouser pocket. Now he stood with his arms folded across his chest. “Yeah, this fellow here is no good for conversation.”

“Apologies, gentlemen,” Dash replied. “I wanted my search to be thorough.” He looked at Walter. “Your brother isn’t here.”

“Liar!”

Dash held up a hand. “I asked my waiter, who saw him leave. He must’ve seen you enter the place and while you were getting your face pounded by the boy you shouldn’t have hit, even if it was by accident, young Karl walked behind everyone and snuck out.”

Joe said, “The bloke in the tuxedo. I saw him leave as well.”

God bless you, Joe, Dash thought.

Walter pointed at Atty. “How come he hasn’t said anything about a young boy leaving?”

“Because people come and go all the time in a place like this. Right, Atty?”

Atty gave him a curious look, then cleared his throat as well as his expression. “Right, right. It’s a never-ending parade.”

Walter wasn’t buying it. “You’re all lying to me. You’re lying!”

Dash had an idea. “If you’re done accusing us of deceit, I can show Atty here the photograph you gave me. He hasn’t seen what the boy looks like.”

He took the picture out of his pocket and handed it to Atty.

“Does this look like the fellow in the tuxedo?” Dash kept his face benign, but he hoped Atty caught the hint in his eyes.

Atty turned his head to the side in a display of thought. He handed the photograph to Dash, who returned it to his inside coat pocket.

“Yessir, that’s him in the tux, alright. He was pretty nervous too. I didn’t put it together, his leaving, your fight, but uh . . . this boy definitely came out here and left through that door. Went to the right, I think, towards Seventh.”

God bless you too, Atty, Dash thought with relief.

Walter kept his burning eyes on the doorman. “I want to search the club for myself.”

Joe scoffed. “And start trouble again? I don’t think so, lad. If Mr. Parker says the boy is gone, then the boy is gone.”

Dash added, “I’d go home and see if he’s there. If not, I’d search the cafeterias. At this late hour, they tend to cater to boys like him.”

Walter grimaced at that last statement and turned his glare towards Dash. A tense silence followed.

Don’t let the fear show on your face, Dash’s older brother Maximilian always said. That’s how you get away with lies. 

Walter stood up. Joe’s fist clenched, and Atty reached for his pistol. Walter held up his hands and forced a grotesque smile, his lips and tongue bloody from the two missing teeth in the upper right corner of his mouth.

“Alright, gentlemen. If you say my brother is not here, then I shall look for him elsewhere.” He pointed a threatening finger at Dash. “But he is not to come back. Understood? You see him, you turn him away. I do not want to return to this despicable place.”

Atty started, “You can’t tell us—”

Dash placed a calming hand on Atty’s shoulder. “We will advise young Karl to go elsewhere. Though I doubt he’ll come back after seeing you here.”

Walter said, “He better not.”

Atty opened the changing area curtain and grabbed the German by the arm, leading him to the tailor shop’s front door.

Dash remembered what Finn had said earlier and stopped Atty. “Mr. Müller, one question before you go. How did you know the knock to get into this club?”

Walter kept his back to Dash. “What was that?”

“The knock. On the front door of the tailor shop. How did you know it?”

Walter turned towards Dash, his expression bemused, his tone condescending. “I heard him practicing it last night. Many of these secret clubs use such knocks. When I saw him go into your shop, I knew why he was