Helena grabbed the cork, growling about Lanes baser instincts, and walked back in to continue speaking with Lady Deloris.
She held the cork out for the Lady Deloris to inspect. “I hear you are a wine expert, is there anything you’d be willing to tell me about this?”
“And here I thought you were going to give me a challenging question. There’s a lot of information on this cork, anything in particular, you’d like to know?”
“Where did it come from?”
“Right to a hard question. There are no markings on the cork. Did you know that most large wineries will put their name on the side of the cork? Of course not, people who drink wine don’t typically examine the cork, and I’m thinking you don’t drink much. It is a high-quality cork,” Deloris smelled the cork then took a small nibble off the purple wine-soaked end then promptly spat the pieces on the floor. “This is a strong red wine. I would think one of the smaller local California wineries.”
“Can you be more specific than that?”
“There are a dozen local wineries, they are all for the most part growing the same grapes, in the same weather conditions, using the same oak barrels. Given a glass of wine, I might be more specific. Young lady, you gave me a cork, a cork I might add that’s been out of the wine for some time, I would say at least a month. I think I’ve gotten pretty close.”
“Thank you for all your help. I’d hoped to find more useful information. This is the only clue I have to locate a missing friend.”
“I’m sorry, I wish I could do more for you. I can still give you those makeup lessons if you’re interested, we can discuss price.”
“I’d like that I really would, I just need to think about it.”
“Honey I never did catch your name.”
“Helena, Helena Brandywine.”
“Well Helena, next time you come back to visit me you show this card. You won’t need to fight to get in here,” Lady Deloris handed Helena one of her personal calling cards, the ones she gave to her individual customers.
“Thank you for everything you’ve done. I need to go home and consider what I’m going to do next. My friend’s life may hang in the balance.”
Dejected, Helena left Lady Deloris’ private rooms. She walked by Lane who was still chatting up the cross-dresser, neglecting to tell him she was going. She took each step of the stairs leading down as if the gates of hell waited for her at the bottom. Head down, lost in thought she crossed the scarcely populated dance floor and walked up to the bar. Plopped down on the barstool and put her head in her hands.
“Bad news?” Helena listened to Sigmund’s familiar voice speaking into her ear to be understood over the din of the player piano.
“Can we go home, I’m tired.”
Sensing Helena’s dark mood Sigmund tapped her on the shoulder, “Wait here let me go find Lane.”
Sigmund pushed himself off from the bar leaving his untouched shot of whiskey. She thought about drinking it, then looked at the lack of hygiene amongst the glasses stacked in front of the mirror and thought better of it.
Where she first found this part of town exhilarating, now she only saw depression. Strangers hopelessly trying to be who they wanted to be. She was no consulting detective, she couldn’t even find a missing girl.
Sigmund walked up with Lane in tow. “Why’d ya run off without me? Somebody could’ve knocked you in the head, and you’d be on your way to Shanghai by now,” Lane noticeably upset that he got ditched by a young woman who he was supposed to be watching.
“That is enough Lane, it was your job to keep an eye on her, not her job to keep you informed of her whereabouts. Go get Bessie I think it is the time we head home.”
Lane retrieved the automobile, and the group did a quick stop at the Chinese Girl’s School they found the Pinkerton men in place, collected Chow Kam Ting, the sixteen-year-old orphan student and headed back to the estate. The whole trip Helena sat in a silent funk, lost in thought speaking only when asked a direct question.
Russian Invasion:
Once the group returned to the house, Helena started upstairs. However, Sigmund, shouted, “Meet you in the gym in ten minutes.”
Rather than argue, Helena did her best to be enthusiastic about her upcoming combat lesson, but she just couldn’t find it in her. She was keen on it enough to not be late. She arrived late once, and the workout that followed became one she would never forget. Sigmund beat her to the room, rolled up sleeves with a rolling pin from the kitchen.
“What did you learn today?” he asked as soon as she stepped through the door.
“Chinese don’t fight fair.”
“No one fights fair on the streets. The object is to win, the loser faces death,” he threw the rolling pin at her, “Attack me.”
She lunged at him, half-hearted and he roughly yanked the pin from her hand, “Ouch! That hurt!” Helena said.
“Then attack me, like you really want to hurt me. You have been angry with me before, now is your time to hurt me, or do you think you aren’t strong enough?” He threw the pin back at her.
She caught the pin, the anger from the day swelling in her heart, she lunged at his solar plexus. Sigmund stepped to the side, grabbed her wrist, used her overreach and momentum to send her to the ground, taking care not to break her forearm.
“Alright, you’re a better fighter than me, you’re also twice my size,” Helena glared up from the mat, her eyes boring holes into his face.
“It is not a matter of size, it is a matter of moves. Come I will show you,” he pulled her up.
They worked on the disarm move until her makeup ran from sweat. Sigmund showed Helena how
