No Cage for a Crow

Three - The Wrong Boys at the Right Time

The other three chuckled, but not, I thought, because it was a joke.

My brain turned the problem over sluggishly even as the ringleader drew a long, slender filleting knife from his belt. The gleam of the blade and the immediate danger it represented spurred me into coherence.

'Don't hurt me,' I said quickly. 'I'll give you what you want. I won't fight.' My voice was hoarse and cracked.

The four exchanged a look of surprise.

'Awful dirty for a proper lady, ain't ye?' asked the leader, but the question was directed more toward his compatriots than toward me. They took a moment to understand his meaning, and I was able to watch comprehension dawn on the other three faces almost simultaneously.

The foot lifted from my shoulder, and rude, rough hands reached down and pulled me to my feet. I swayed where I stood, supported only by my captors.

'I don't suppose,' said the leader slowly, in a mocking imitation of my own speech,' that there's anybody what would be generously pleased to 'ave ye back in one piece?'

Held for ransom was not an ideal solution, but it sounded far and away better than violated, naked, and dead. I nodded vigorously.

A dark smile oozed across the villain's face, and he nodded. 'That's a bloody good thing for ye,' he said.

I could not help but agree.

The others were not as sure.

''Ow do we do a ransom?' asked the one who wanted my coat. 'Ain't never done a ransom before.'

'An' what if she gets away an' squeals?' asked the one who wanted my boots.

'Aye,' agreed the last of them, who had not spoken before. 'Dead don't squeal.'

To my intense dismay, the leader seemed to be giving their words real consideration. I had to cut in.

'I write a letter,' I said hurriedly. 'You tell me what to put in it. How much you want and where to leave it and by what time. You post it. You make sure I never hear your names and never see where you stay, so I couldn't tell anybody where to look for you, even if I wanted to. My parents will leave the money. I know they will. And when you've got it, we go our separate ways.'

As hard as I tried to sound calm and sensible, my voice rose shrilly until the leader's hand tightened painfully on my arm, and he leaned in close to my ear to hiss. His foetid breath clogged my nose. 'Shut yer gob!'

I shut my gob. But I also realised that he was afraid of being overheard. The street beyond the mouth of the alley was quiet, but the hour must not have been so early that there was no chance of discovery.

He eyed me with suspicion. 'What's yer game, layin' out the whole plan for us?'

'I want you to keep me alive,' I told him candidly. That really was all there was to it. If my brain had been working better, I might have been clever and cooked up a plot that seemed solid on the surface but was secretly riddled with holes to trap my captors. This plan I expected to work much as I had laid it out, barring the obvious facts that the police would be summoned and that whichever of the ruffians went to collect their prize would be arrested instantly. At which point, those remaining would likely kill me. It was an issue I would have to address, once I was thinking more clearly.

'I want to live,' I repeated firmly. 'And I'm prepared to help with anything that will keep you from killing me.'

He stared me down silently until I was certain me meant just to 'cut me a smile' and save himself all the trouble, but he only shrugged his shoulders and began to move down the alley, dragging me with him.