Posters with a sketch of Lion Boy hung on the walls, framed with the words ‘murderous’ and ‘dangerous.’ They knew nothing about him. He wasn’t the deranged creature people believed.
The officers became scarce as they drove farther.
“Do you think Cade believes Lion Boy escaped, or could he know someone helped him?” she asked Dobkins.
“They said escaped, not taken. I think the newspapers would have reported him taken.”
“Lady Chester said the police will shoot him if they see him.”
“Let’s not worry about that.”
Not worry? A thousand worries piled up in her mind. She paused, remembering what her father had said. Perhaps that was how Mother felt every day.
Despite the distance she put from the circus, the driver of the cab from last night still might have questioned the commotion inside, realised what was going on, and reported them. Maybe someone had seen them. Maybe Captain Jackson went to the public house to get drunk and left Lion Boy alone. So many things could go wrong.
She fidgeted until the cab stopped well away from their destination. They would need to walk a few minutes and around a corner to arrive at the captain’s flat, but she was glad to put her nervous energy to use.
No constable was around in that part of the city. Either the superintendent didn’t care about the people who lived there, or the area had already been searched.
She knocked on Captain Jackson’s rear door with urgency, both because she wanted to get off the street and because she was eager to see Lion Boy.
The captain opened the door and beckoned them in. “Why are you here? I didn’t send any message to Dobkins to ask you to come.”
Vivienne ignored the heavy smell of tobacco. “I wanted to know how Lion Boy is faring.”
He locked the door behind them. “There were bloody police everywhere this morning.”
“Did they cause any problem?” Dobkins asked.
“No, but the last two days weren’t the most enjoyable of my life.” He poured himself a whisky. “A couple of times I thought they would knock on my door. I expected a search, but not of this magnitude.” He raised the bottle towards them. “Any takers?”
“For Pete’s sake.” Dobkins pinched the bridge of her nose.
“How’s Lion Boy?” Vivienne rose on her tiptoes to see past him, but the bedroom door was shut.
“You don’t need to worry about him. Now you’d better leave.” He finished off his whisky with one gulp and put a hand on the knob.
She didn’t move. “No, I want to see him.”
“Not now. In a few weeks maybe. For now, you must leave. And don’t come back. Just wait for my message. You are putting him at risk by coming here”
“A few weeks? Let me see him. I want to make sure he’s doing well.”
“Doing well?” He put his hand on his hip. “Of course he’s notdoing well. He grew up in a bloody cage, beaten and drugged.”
She winced at his tone. “I promised him I would visit him.”
“Not now.”
“Why?” Dobkins asked. “Did he escape?”
Vivienne gasped. “You got drunk, and he left!”
“Dammit!” He slammed the empty glass on the table. “He’s here, and no, I’m not stupid enough to get unconscious while a drug-addicted young man prone to panic is under my care. A bit of trust would be appreciated.”
She believed their doubts were justified. “You won’t let me see him.”
“And you trusted me enough to ask me to take him here.” He pointed a finger at her.
