Steampunk Carnival (Steam World Book 1) (7 page)

Katya made a point to stay as far from Mr. Warden’s office as possible. She wanted to guide each patron to his or her destination, but coming too close to Mr. Lieber set her nerves on edge. Several times, she chose to keep her distance, gesturing the guest the rest of the way to a food stall or the Warden wheel. They did not seem to mind or notice her lapse in quality of service, but Katya did. She was disgusted with herself and furious at Mr. Lieber for being so harsh with her. Instead of strolling the grounds and greeting guests with a natural effervescence, she sulked her way through the crowd, waiting for the patrons to approach her with their needs. If a guest looked lost or overwhelmed, she left them alone to figure it out or ask someone else.

Katya strode past the bandstand, trying to put extra space between herself and the rear of the carnival, when she spotted a lazy figure propped up against one of the narrow lampposts. She blew out an irritated breath at the ignorance. The most she could make out from the back was the rectangular figure of a man – although slightly short – and certainly a carnival employee. His top hat sported a flashing silver buckle on the back of the black band, and his dark brown suit fit him neatly with rounded seams following his shoulders.

Katya sped toward him on anger-fueled limbs. She started spewing at him even before she saw his face. “You should know better than to lean against the lampposts.” Katya folded her arms and stopped in front of him. He was much younger than she anticipated, close to her own age or a few years older. With the flame of the lamppost backlighting his hat, she could not make out the color of his eyes or hair. Even with a smudge of dirt or oil on the left side of his forehead, his clean, smooth features gave him a level of attractiveness Katya chose to ignore.

The man cracked an off-guard smile. “What?”

“Don’t lean against the lampposts. It’s a public health concern. There’s gas filling the pipe. Any day now, there’s going to be a law against it.” Katya waved him away from the post. “I’m not kidding.”

“I’m sorry. It seemed sturdy enough to me.” Now that he spoke in longer sentences, Katya could hear the Irish brogue in his voice, the round O’s and sharp E’s muffled by a gentler influence. He peeled his back off the iron lamppost. “I didn’t know.”

Katya let some of her annoyance ebb so she would not embarrass herself. “It’s all right. Just don’t do it again.”

“I don’t think we’ve met. My name’s Maddox O’Sullivan.”

“Katya Romanova.”

“Oh,” he said, his voice rising in pleasant surprise. “You’re Katya Romanova.”

Katya eased back a step, further rattled by the lyrical sound of her name in his accent. “Why? What have you heard about me?”

Maddox shrugged. “Nothing, just your name.”

He sounded sincere, but Katya took another step back. “It was nice to meet you, Mr. O’Sullivan.”

“Do you have to run off? We barely got acquainted.”

“I have a job to do, Mr. O’Sullivan, and so do you.”

“What is your job here, Miss Romanova?”

Katya bristled at having to explain herself again, her argument with Mr. Lieber ringing bitterly in her ears. “I help the guests find everything they need.” She turned away.

Maddox continued the conversation anyway. “I joined the maintenance crew just this week.”

Katya swallowed her exasperation and faced him once more. “Mr. Warden told me he’d hired new maintenance. I can tell by your suit what you do.”

“You must know everything about the carnival.”

Katya could not give a glib answer to that. “I know the workers. I know the rides. I know the guests.”

“You’ve worked here a long time.”

“Since the beginning.”

“Do you like it?”

“I’d rather be here than anywhere else.”

Maddox stepped forward to close the gap Katya’s footfalls had created. “Would you like to go for a walk with me sometime?”

Awkwardness tightened Katya’s chest, and she searched for the most polite rejection. “I apologize, Mr. O’Sullivan, but I shouldn’t.” She glanced around them at the carnival guests, some watching the games being played fifty feet away and others watching the band perform yet another rousing march. “I should get back to the guests.”

“They look like they’re doing fine without you, not that they don’t need you.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I really don’t think it would be in our best interests to see each other socially.”

“Aren’t you friends with someone who works here?”

Katya looked Maddox over, worried he had heard more than he was letting on. “Yes.”

“Thick as thieves, they told me.”

“That’s different. We’re friends.”

“Maybe, but what happens if you have a falling out? It’d be the same situation, making it uncomfortable for you to work here.”

Katya felt forced to be more direct. “I apologize, Mr. O’Sullivan, but I’d be wasting your time. You’re not the kind of man I’m looking for.”

Maddox raised his eyebrows. “So you’ve got him picked out, do you? What kind of man is it?”

Katya straightened the hem of her jacket to fit it more squarely across her shoulders. “Let’s not fool ourselves. The best way for a woman to get by is to attach herself to a man who’s established and well off.”

“I suppose so.” Maddox licked his lips. “Do you ever think about having fun instead of money?”

“The pursuit of money is fun except when they won’t part with it.”

Maddox laughed deep in his chest, honest and entertained. “I mean real fun. You know, like the carnival’s fun for all these people.”

“I don’t have time for that kind of fun. I’m glad for you if you do.”

“Is there anything fun to do in the city? I haven’t been in town long. I’ve been out east the last couple of years.”

Katya’s heart leapt to think of the east, of the big house in New York where her family stayed. She redirected the pictures in her mind to the city she had moved to. “There’s the English Opera House in the center of town. They put on good productions there. You can hear music any time you like. If you’re tired of marches, there’re orchestras playing Wagner and Handel. There’s almost more music in the city than anything else. There are parks to explore. You could join a sports club if you like, but I don’t know much about them.”

“I’m surprised. You know so much about everything else.”

Katya decided to stick with the truth. “I haven’t had any dates there, so I’m not as familiar.”

Maddox’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Suppose I want to ask a girl out. How will I know where to take her unless you show me all the best places?”

“I’m not naive. I know what you’re trying to do. My advice is to find a woman who isn’t me and ask her to the carnival. There’s not a better place in the whole country. If she isn’t mad for you after one night here, she isn’t worth your time. Have a good evening, Mr. O’Sullivan.”

Katya turned and strolled away before Maddox could reel her back into the conversation. She heard his parting remark called to her over her shoulder.

“Have a good night, Miss Romanova.”

Katya gave no sign she had heard him. She walked on until she reached the crowd gathered around the eastern side stage, dozens of people engrossed in watching six men gorge themselves in a pickle-eating contest. Katya immersed herself in the dense crowd, smiling brightly at those around her and asking if they needed assistance. They shook their heads and turned back to the gradually slowing action. Katya remained there for some time, until the man in charge, dressed in a sharp black suit, presented a winner’s ribbon to the contestant who was barely more than translucent skin wrapped around thin bones. A spokesman for the canning company stepped forward to elaborate on the exquisite taste and crunch of the product. Certain that Maddox had either stayed near the lamppost or moseyed to the back of the carnival where the maintenance building was, Katya went on her way, trying to avoid either location.

Katya sat on the front edge of the hard wooden pew in the back of St. John’s Church. She tried not to yawn, hiding each involuntary stretch of her jaws behind her yellow satin glove. Next to her, the early hour did not seem to affect Magdalene as strongly. She smelled like popcorn and frying potatoes but sat as patiently as if she had just woken up from a pleasant sleep.

Brady slipped into the sanctuary and lowered his hat from his head. He sank into the pew on the other side of Magdalene. He looked tired and old, new creases forming worried ravines across his forehead. “I was glad to hear the wheel was popular tonight, Miss Romanova. What have you learned?”

Katya dropped her hand from her face, where she had stifled another yawn. “Not as much as I hoped. Mr. Warden spends all his nights at the carnival. He has a few meetings a week, but I don’t know where. He goes on dates during the day, but I don’t know whom he’s seeing or where.”

Magdalene turned to Katya. “Do you think we could ask at the Opera House if Mr. Warden has been there? Maybe we could find a pattern. If we say we’re looking for him, I’m sure they’d be happy to help.”

Brady answered before Katya could decide either way. “He could change those plans too easily. We need to know exactly where Warden’s going to be. If we can learn his schedule and anticipate his movements, we’ll be able to find the best place to expose him.”

“It’s not over yet,” Katya insisted. “Mr. Warden was tight lipped when I talked to him, but he said I can talk to him anytime. Alone, without Mr. Lieber, if I want.”

Magdalene spoke up. “The death threats have them both on edge. We don’t want to come across as suspicious by probing for information.”

“You could ask Mr. Warden,” Katya suggested. “Everybody trusts you. They all seem to think I’m after Mr. Warden’s money.” Katya stopped before she shared too much about her personal life in front of Brady. “He’d talk to you, Mags. If you wait a week or two, Mr. Warden might give you the information we’re looking for.”

Brady interjected, rubbing his palms against each other. “Could we set him up? Could we get him an interview or have him make a speech at some event?”

“I don’t know,” Magdalene breathed.

Katya rested her hand on Magdalene’s arm with a new thought. “Do you know who Mr. Warden’s seeing now?”

“No.”

“I haven’t seen the woman in green for a while. I haven’t seen any women near his office in weeks.”

Brady broke in with another question. “Do you think any of Warden’s girlfriends would betray him by talking to you?”

“They might.” Katya considered her own complex relationship with her boss. “Mr. Warden never keeps anyone near him whom he can’t use for something. If they’re aware of that or we point it out to them, they might open up and tell us something.”

“There are too many
if’s
.” Brady ducked his face and laid his hands over it. The pads of his fingertips smoothed his forehead, and his thumbs slid across the planes of his closed eyelids.

Magdalene spoke up, soft and soothing. “No man is impenetrable, not even Mr. Warden. He has his weaknesses. We just need to make them work for us.”

Katya forced her mouth closed against an impending yawn that slurred her opening words. “That’s not good enough. Mr. Warden’s being too cautious, even with me. We have to try what we know will work. Mags, you have to try. If I keep bothering him, he’ll know we’re up to something, and we’ll never learn anything.”

A few pews away, a swish of fabric against hard wood preceded a few hollow knocks as one of the invisible homeless rolled over.

Katya lowered her voice. “No one would suspect you.”

Magdalene whispered back. “What do you want me to do?”

“Talk to Mr. Warden in front of Mr. Lieber. If you try to get him alone, he might think you’re up to one of my tricks.”

“I think you should keep trying. If he’s willing to see you again, he’s willing to talk.”

Or do more than talk
, Katya thought, but she kept that concern to herself.

“I have no reason to talk to Mr. Warden,” Magdalene added.

“Of course you do. When I ran into Mr. Lieber, he wanted the cooks to buy German mustard instead of what you’re using. It’d be easy to appease him and buy a few minutes learning Mr. Warden’s schedule.”

“You don’t think it’s going to be suspicious if I try to spin a conversation out of German mustard?”

Brady leaned past Magdalene to see Katya better. “I have to agree with Miss Harvey. If Warden’s come to expect you, Miss Romanova, you stand the best chance of slipping past his defenses.”

Katya wanted to keep arguing to the contrary, but there seemed to be no point. “What do you expect me to talk about?”

Magdalene laid her hand on Katya’s, her eyes wide with eagerness to convince her. “Anything. Tell him one of the reporters wants to interview him, and you want to arrange a time. Tell him one of the patrons wants a date with him, and he should meet with her downtown.”

“At the Opera House?” Katya grumbled, her voice dragging.

“Yes, that’s good. A mystery date at the Opera House.”

Brady reached out and took Katya’s free hand between his own. “Miss Romanova, I’d appreciate it greatly. Please try one more time. If Warden won’t talk to you, we’ll find another way.”

Faced with Brady’s hopeful, weary eyes, Katya conceded. “I’ll try.”

“Thank you.”

They all rose at once, Katya slipping her hands free of her friends’ outreaches. They moved to the door of the sanctuary and filed out of the church onto the sidewalk.

Brady’s Irish accent reminded Katya of Maddox, and she wondered if she should ask him if he knew anything about the young maintenance man. She decided he probably would not. Even though she was coming to know Brady’s past and current situation, no one else at the carnival knew the first thing about him. He kept to himself, and that included staying away from those who gossiped and those who were gossiped about.

“Be careful, ladies,” Brady said, breaking away from them to walk south on Tennessee Street.

“Good night,” Katya and Magdalene chimed in.

The two women turned north, looking and listening for the streetcar they expected at any moment.

“Do you think he knows?” Katya whispered without forethought.

“Knows what?” Magdalene stretched her neck in search of the carriage.

“About me and Mr. Warden.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I don’t want Mr. Kelly to think I don’t want to help him.”

“He’s not going to think that.” Horses’ hooves struck the road higher up the street, and Magdalene relaxed her angled pose.

“Don’t you think it’s strange to be stuck between your boss and someone you barely know?” Katya asked.

Magdalene adjusted her rosy gloves at the ends of her crimson sleeves. “I would’ve found it stranger if the carnival had nothing uncommon about it. It was never designed to be normal. It’s too ambitious to be average in any way.”

The pair of horses pulled the streetcar toward the corner. Katya hoped the driver had not yet ridden into earshot.

“Yes,” Katya agreed under her breath. “For a place that has everything, that’s exactly what we stand to lose.”