'I came ahead. I arrived yesterday to make the arrangements. Theres a ship leaving London for Hamburg on Tuesday morning. If all goes to plan theyll be on it.

'But I thought you said they were going to America?

'They are. Ive also arranged for their onward passage from Hamburg to New York. They are booked on the Frisia, a steam ship. Dont you see? Im covering their tracks. No one would think theyd go back to Europe.

At last I felt on firmer ground. At least I understood why David wouldnt want to take his son back to a world where there was most likely an assassin waiting round every corner. I put my cup down carefully.

'I know all about Robbies mother, Joey, so you neednt worry about keeping secrets there.

'You know? His eyebrows shot up.

'Thanks to our grandmother I know enough. Shes got a spy in Paris keeping watch over you.

'The Monseigneur? I was surprised to see Joey shrug. 'I guessed as much. He came with the house, like Tan Seng and Lok. Shes watching both of us, little sister. He sighed. 'So, you already know- '-that Robbie Lennox is descended from most of the royal families in Europe and that his mother carries the sickness the Romanovs want to hide. Yes, I know all that. I felt quite smart rattling it off. I raised my cup again, took a sip of tea and watched Joeys face. I was one up on him now.

'Its not because his fathers a low-born, black singer from the halls that they want to kill him, is it?

Joey stared at me and I saw his eyelid twitch. When he answered it was slow and careful. 'No. Its the disease. The Romanovs cant allow the people to know. Within the great families of Europe it is a closely guarded secret, but they are not murderers. In Russia it is a different matter. Those who carry the condition are forbidden to procreate, but the sickness still returns in almost every generation. It is a curse.

'So Robbies mother is . . .?

'A brave woman, Kitty. She gave her baby away to save him. And now we must make sure that he lives. Robbie was an accident, but he is greatly loved. Almost from the day he was born his . . . family tried to wipe him from the face of the world. Weve all tried to keep him safe, but it was becoming more and more dangerous. Just a week before you arrived one of our friends, a woman who cared for him during the evenings, was found murdered in her room.

There was a rattling noise from the corner. Jacobin was clinging to the side of his cage, tearing at the bars with his claws and beak.

Joey glanced over and I saw him flinch. 'Her body had been ripped apart.

I thought of Old Peter and that spattered painting of his mother.

'Do you know who did it?

'No they have people, spies, working for them everywhere. Its their way. He leaned forward and cupped his forehead in the palms of his hands. 'I didnt think it through. Of course theyd follow him. They always find a way.

I took a deep breath. It was time.

'Misha Raskalov reckons Ilyas a member of the Okhrana. I didnt dress it fine.

Joeys head snapped up. 'What?

'You know what that means?

Joey nodded. 'Of course I do. They are the agents of the Czar. But how- 'Mishas here in London. He told me.

'I know. He has come here to arrange venues. Ilya has gone to Venice to do the same thing they are The Moikas best representatives. They are always sent ahead to make contacts. They . . . they are ambassadors for the company.

'I saw Misha today. Ilya lied. He didnt go to Venice. He came here with Misha and he went missing a day or so after they arrived a fortnight back. We think hes still here and youve just confirmed that.

I went to sit next to my brother on the couch.

'Ilya Vershinin didnt go back to Paris to see you last week, did he?

Joey looked blank. 'No. He is meeting the owners of La Fenice. It will be a great spectacle if they can secure it next year. Ive promised to travel to Venice to see him perform. Its as I told you . . .

I took Joeys hand in mine and stared at a tuft of red wool coming loose from the rug at my feet. I wasnt sure how to put my next question.

'I . . . I think youve told Ilya some things too, havent you? Youre . . . close, youre bound to share secrets with each other.

Joey pulled free and stood up. He walked over to the mantle and I heard the hem of his skirt rip a little as it caught on a nail poking up through one of the boards. Peggy was going to ask Lok to hammer it flat because of Robbie.

'No, Kitty, I dont believe it. He wouldnt . . . I watched him move a little posy of china roses an inch to the left.

'Wouldnt he? Remember when you and David brought Robbie to the station and you asked about a cut on my head? It was still bleeding?

Joey balled a fist and rested his head against the cool marble of the mantlepiece as I carried on. 'There wasnt time to tell you, the train was about to leave, but just before you arrived, someone, a porter I thought, knocked me onto the tracks in front of a train. Only it wasnt an accident.

Joey stared at me in the mirror. 'I was carrying Luccas bag at the time and it could, perhaps, have been taken for a baby. It was deliberate, Im sure of it. At the station as we drew out I saw someone watching. Someone with white blond hair. Its very distinct.

I faltered for a moment. 'You need to think, Joey. After I left you and David that night when you persuaded me to take Robbie to London, did you tell anyone else what was planned?

He swallowed. I saw his Adams apple move under the lace trim of his collar.

'And the children here in Paradise the ones I wrote to you about. Those things all happened after we came back here with Robbie. Theres been others too you remember Old Peter?

In the mirror Joey nodded.

'Did you know he was Russian? It dont matter whether you did or didnt, because hes dead. They found his body ripped apart in his room. And only because I involved him in all this. Ive got blood on my hands too, Joey.

'Peggy met a man in St Dunstans churchyard, a handsome man with snow-blond hair, slanting eyes and foreign talk. Robbie was with her at the time and he asked all about him most particular he was.

I paused. 'The only reason that boy is still alive is because Peggy said he was hers.

Joey stared at himself in the mirror. From the couch I could see his expression in the glass it was something between horror and disgust. He slammed his hand down hard on the mantle and the china posy leapt into the air, shattering to splinters across the stone hearth.

'Christ! How could I be so stupid? He knows it all. I told him because I . . . trusted him.

I went to stand next to him. 'You told him because you loved him, Joey. We all make bad choices.

He began to laugh, but it was a bitter sound. 'Not you, Kitty, you never make a bad choice. Thats why she chose you.

I put my hand on his arm. 'You and David chose me too. Robbies safe here and Davids coming for him. We can still make it right, make it stop.

Joey didnt answer. I stared at the broken bits of china at my feet, a single red rose was the only part of the posy that was complete. I bent down to pick it up and turned it over in my palm, wincing when a jagged edge nicked a finger drawing blood.

'Do you have Robbies toy, Kitty, the poppet? I looked up, surprised at the oddness of Joeys question.

'Fetch it, please. Its time.

Chapter Twenty-six.

I met him on a Monday and I thought him quite the thing, With his whiskers and his baccy pipe and glinting golden ring.

We married on a Tuesday and off he went to sea.

And then I waited patient for my Sam to hove to me.

Bella Cundle was a big girl with thick blonde hair and prominent talents, two of them. I knew if she went on first the punters would sit up. I watched them shift about for a clear view as she came to the front of The Gaudys stage, dipping low into a curtsey at the end of the verse.

'Bring it over here, girl. You could balance a jug on that!

I stifled a laugh at the catcall, but standing next to me at the back of the hall, Lucca clicked his tongue.

Jessie Rintoul went next. She was more delicate than Bella, a fine-boned redhead with neat ankles and wrists. Jessie was a dancer rather than a singer, I noted.

I met him on a Tuesday and he worked his sailors charm, With his blue eyes and his earring and his mermaid on his arm.

We married on a Wednesday and off he went to sea.

And then I waited patient for my Jack to hove to me.

The chorus that followed featured a good deal of flouncing skirts and plenty of leg. All the girls performed that together. They were good. I watched them whirl around in front of Luccas painted tavern and then I turned to scan the hall.

It was going down like free beef and dripping. The punters were craning their heads for a glimpse of flesh, thumping the tables and swaying in time to the music.

I glanced back at the empty seat in the orchestra in front of the curved stage. Lucca said Old Peter was already in the ground according to the ways of his people. Professor Ruben and the boys had insisted on playing tonight and I was grateful to them. The girls too they all had a soft spot for him and I reckoned it was hard for them.

Home, home, home from the sea, Im waiting for my man to sail back to me.

And when I next see him Im sure hell be gay To meet the good friends Ive found while hes away.

After the chorus Marnie Trinder stepped forward through the cigarette and cigar smoke that was beginning to thicken the air. The Gaudy reeked of hot tar, cheap gin and stale bodies it was a ripe night.

Marnie was a bit older than the others, but her looks were holding up. She gave the lines just the right amount of twist to make the meaning clear.

I met him on a Wednesday and he wooed my maiden soul, With his maps and charts and documents he showed me the north pole.

We married on a Thursday and off he went to sea.

And then I waited patient for my Tom to hove to me.

Little Cissie Watkins looked like a golden angel. When she moved down to the front of the stage they all hushed up like they were sitting in rows at a Sunday school.

I met him on a Thursday and he showed me his tattoo Of a little foreign gentleman out punting a canoe.

We married on a Friday and off he went to sea.

And then I waited patient for my Mick to hove to me.

Now, she didnt only look like a celestial, she sang and acted like one too, which made the punters roar even louder when her dainty gestures indicated exactly where that tattoo was.

And finally, Netta Swift twirled to the centre of the curved stage. I saw her pause to work out where the best light would catch her. Danny was right she was a star in the making. Not only was she darkly handsome, but her voice carried right to the back of The Gaudys upper gallery without any visible effort on her part.

I met him on a Friday and he showed me what hes worth.

He took me to his cabin, hes a man of noble berth.

We married on a Saturday, but as we left the vicar I noticed that his footsteps hit the cobbles that bit quicker.

'Oh wait! I called as Roger disappeared across the shore.

You havent climbed the rigging yet or shown me any more Of your special nautic talents or your wonders of the deep.

And you promised that you knew enough to make a maiden weep.

But as I stood there calling loud I heard another girl A shouting for her husband, by name of Samuel Pearl.

And by and by three others were stood by us on the prom All calling out for their old men a Jack, a Mick, a Tom.

And as we stood there bawling, it came upon us all We was married to the self same man who had us in his thrall.

So now we sit here waiting, theres nowhere he can hide.

Hell never know whats hit him when we grapple his portside.

Netta was a good comic actress too. I reckoned I could do trade with her. In fact, I knew I could make a packet with this routine. Word had gone round and tonight The Gaudy was almost as full as it was on the occasions when I was up in the cage. Wed already taken another two barrels up from the cellar.

I watched the tray girls moving round the tables deftly avoiding slops spilt across the floor and the hands of the punters. I thought then of Jenny Pierce and Alice Halpern, those two little scraps. I wouldnt allow anything like that to happen again, not to my girls, not in my halls and not anywhere in Paradise never.

As they sang the chorus a third time, Dismal Jimmy dressed as a sailor staggered from the right. The punters jeered good-natured warnings as he clutched at a twisted column supporting one of the boxes nearest the stage, drunkenly rolling his eyes at the girls and working his wide-lipped mouth in a theatrical manner. He made a most convincing arfarfanarf. But then Lucca said hed had enough practice.

Netta swung round, pointed at him and shrilled 'Roger! And then they all called out a name and thundered across the stage. Dismal threw up his hands in surrender, windmilled and fell backwards into the wings.

The shouts, whistles, stamping and cheering made my ears ring. Lucca nudged me. 'Well, what do you think?

'I think its done The Gaudy no harm.

A hundred grinning faces glowed in the flickering gaslight down here and as many more were packed like herrings in the tiers above. The booths were full tonight too.

'I want Fitzpatrick to see this tomorrow and I want to hear what he has to say about it. Jesmonds keen. I nodded across the hall.

Aubrey Jesmond from The Carnival was leaning against the wall opposite. He was observing the punters with his little mole eyes in the way that a cat might watch over a particularly well-stocked mouse hole. He must have sensed me looking because he straightened up, lifted his bowler and tipped it at me.