The Spying Cat (ONC 2023 Shortlister)

Chapter 16

The gunshot deadened her senses.

Kitty stumbled, her ears ringing. Donnelly screamed. She wanted to run, but his body blocked the doorway. Mo appeared on the horizon like a lighthouse. He took one look at the wailing man, then at the benumbed girl with a gun in her hand.

Mo kicked Donnelly unconscious and leapt over him into the dressing room. "Ma'am, you have to come with me."

He grabbed Kitty's hand, relieving her of the revolver, and led her down the servants' staircase behind her. Anxious hubbub commenced in the house. Heavy steps rushed into Leroy's bedroom. It wouldn't be long before they would also rush downstairs.

News of the injured footman hadn't reached the kitchen staff when Mo and Kitty retreated to his butler's office. He fetched his shotgun from under the desk and filled his pockets with ammunition.

"I need you to snap out of it, Catherine," he told Kitty.

He shoved a full-sized revolver at her, and she held it against her chest.

"Catriona," Kitty said, blinking. "Not Catherine."

"I don't care." He passed her a leather satchel containing bullets and a knife. "You move or you die, you hear me?"

Kitty nodded and stashed her gun in the satchel strapped cross-body.

"Mr Moses!" Margaret barged into the office. "Quick, to the stables! Mrs Jones is holding them off."

Mo had no chance to express his gratitude. Margaret saw them to the exit and locked it after them, while Mo and Kitty dashed across the courtyard. They mounted a horse, bareback, and galloped out the carriage gate into the city. Kitty held onto Mo for dear life, the train of her gown gathered up between her legs.

"Do you know where you're going?" she dared to ask him after a moment.

Mo glanced up at the sky. Clouds and the filth of London obscured the stars.

"Not really."

Kitty held him tighter. "Ride to Hyde Park. You know it? It's not far from here."

"I know it." Mo steered the horse left at the end of the road. "I hope you know what you're doing."

Kitty swallowed her tears. "I hope so, too."

*

Amidst the panic, a street urchin delivered a note to Leroy. Ben's guests had crowded on the pavement, to stare after the galloping horse. The boy vanished in the night as soon as the American touched the piece of paper. Meet me on Dorset Street, said the note, in a handwriting that drove Leroy to immediate action.

He stomped inside, up to his room, where a maid was tying up Donnelly's leg.

"Get this fool out of my way!" Leroy demanded, and two other footmen struggled to pull their workmate into the bedroom.

Leroy slammed the dressing room door shut. His trunks littered the floor, gaping open. A battle cry like the roar of a lion ravaged his lungs. He kicked at the false-bottomed suitcase and changed into his denim cowboy trousers. Traded his waistcoat for the first linen shirt he could grab, replacing dress shoes with boots. His gun belt waited in wardrobe drawer that should have been locked.

Ben intercepted his brother in the hallway. "Where are you going?"

"None of your goddamn business!"

Ben blocked Leroy's path, pushing him back. "A man has just been shot in my house and you're in a hurry to leave. It very much is my goddamn business!"