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1.Bell,Isaac(Fictitiouscharacter)—Fiction.2.Privateinvestigators—Fiction.3.Assassins
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Version_1
Chapter1Chapter2Chapter3Chapter4Chapter5Chapter6Chapter7Chapter8
BOOKTWO|POISONChapter9Chapter10Chapter11Chapter12
Chapter13Chapter14Chapter15Chapter16Chapter17Chapter18
BOOKTHREE|GASChapter19Chapter20Chapter21Chapter22Chapter23Chapter24
Chapter25Chapter26Chapter27Chapter28Chapter29Chapter30Chapter31Chapter32Chapter33Chapter34Chapter35Chapter36Chapter37Chapter38
1899PENNSYLVANIA
“DoIhearatrain?”askedSpikeHopewell.
“Twotrains,”saidBillMatters.Theheavy,wetHuff!ofthePennsylvaniaRailroad’s2-8-0freight
locomotivescarriedformilesinthestillnightair.“They’reonthemainline,nothere.”
Spikewasnervous.Itmadehimtalkative.“YouknowwhatIkeepthinking?JohnD.Rockefellerlockeduptheoilbusinessbeforemostpeoplewereborn.”
“TohellwithRockefeller.TohellwithStandardOil.”
BillMattershadfoundtheirAchilles’heel.Afterthirtyyearsfightingthe
“Standard,”thirtyyearsofgettingdrivenintothemud,hewasfinallygoingtobreaktheirpipelinemonopoly.
Tonight.Underaskywhitewithstars,inalow-lyinghayfieldinthefoothillsoftheAlleghenyMountains.Woodedslopesringedthefield.PennsylvaniaRailroadtrackscrossedit,bridgingthedipinthehillsonatalltimbertrestle.
SpikeHopewellwas
goingalongwiththescheme,againsthisbetterjudgment.Billhadalwaysbeensusceptibletoragingbrainstormsthatvergedondelirium,andtheyweregettingworse.Besides,whenitcametodrivingindependentsoutofbusiness,JohnD.Rockefellerhadpersonallyinventedeverytrickinthebook.
“Now!”BilldrewhisbigoldRemingtonsix-cylinder
andfiredashotintheair.Whipscracked.Mules
heavedintheirharness.Freightwagonsfullofmenandmaterialrumbledacrossthefieldandunderthetraintrestle—aframeworkofbracedtimbersthatcarriedtheelevatedtracksabovethelowground.
PipelinesthatMattersandHopewellhadalreadylaidstoppedjustinsidethewoodsateitheredgeofthefield.The
westtrunkstretchedtwohundredmilesovertheAlleghenyMountainstoPennsylvania’soilfields.TheeastcontinuedonehundredeightymilestotheirseaboardrefineryinConstableHook,NewJersey,whereoceangoingtanksteamerscouldloadtheirkerosene.Pumpsandbreakouttankswereinstalledeverythirtymiles,andallthatremainedtojointhetwohalveswas
thisfinalconnectiononlandtheyhadpurchased,undertherailroad.
Spikewouldnotshutup.“YouknowwhatthepresidentofthePenneysaid?Hesaid,‘ImaginetheexpenseIwouldsaveonlocomotives,Pullmancars,andcomplaintsifonlyIcouldmeltmypassengersandpumpthemliquefiedthroughpipeslikeyoupumpoil.’”
“Iwasthere,”said
Matters.InPhiladelphia,atPennsylvaniaRailroadheadquartershighabovetheBroadStreetStation,asking,hatinhand,toleasearight-of-way.Thepresident,high-tonedownerofaMainLineestate,hadlookeddownhisParis-educatednoseattheoilfieldrowdies.
“Ienvyyougentlemen.Iwouldlovetoownapipeline.”
Whowouldn’t?Justask
Rockefeller.Shippingcrudedirectfromthewelltotherefinerybeatatrainhandsdown.Insteadoflaboriouslyloadingandunloadingbarrels,barges,andtankcars,yousimplyopenedavalve.Andthatwasjustthebeginning.Apipelinewasalsoastorehouse;youcouldstockpilecrudeinyourpipesandtanksuntilsupplydroppedandthepricerose.Youcouldlendmoneylikea
bankandchargeinterestoncreditbackedbythesameoilinyourpipesthattheproducerwaspayingyoutodeliver.Bestofall—orworstofall,dependingonyourmorals—whenyouownedapipeline,yousettheshippingratetofavoryourfriendsandgougeyourenemies.Youcouldevenrefusetodeliveratanyprice,aRockefellerspecialtytobustindependentrefineries;Mattersand
Hopewell’sConstableHookrefinerywassittingidle,dryasabone,becausetheStandarddeclinedtopipethemcrude.
Spikelaughed.“RememberwhatItoldhim?‘We’llmeltyourpassengersinourrefinery,butit’syourjobtomake’emsolidagain.’”
ThepresidentoftherailroadhadgrantedSpike’sjokeathinsmileandtheir
leaseadeathblow:“Youcan’tpaymeenoughtoletyourpipecrossmytracks.”
“Whynot?”“Ordersstraightfromthe
EleventhFloor.”Intheyear1899,there
wasonlyone“EleventhFloor”intheUnitedStatesofAmerica—Rockefeller’sofficeatStandardOil’sNumber26BroadwayheadquartersinNewYork—anditpackedmorepunch
thantheWhiteHouseandCongresscombined.
Tonight,BillMatterswaspunchingback.
Sixtymenpiledoutofthewagonswithpicksandshovelsandtongsandpipejacks.Workingbystarlight,theydugashallowtrenchacrossthefieldandunderthetrestle.Tonghandswrestledthirty-foot-longeight-inchsteelpipesoffthewagons,proppedthemonjacksover
thetrench,andscrewedthelengthstogether.
Thedistanttrainsoundstheyhadheardearliersuddenlygrewloud.
Matterssawaglowinthetreesandrealized,toolate,hehadmisjudgedtheirdistance.Theywereindeedonthisbranchline,notfaraway,butsteamingslowly,quietly,onefromthenorth,onefromthesouth.
Ditchdiggersandtong
menlookedup.Headlampsblazed.The
monsterH6Baldwin2-8-0locomotivesburstfromthewoodedhillsandrumbledontothetrestles.
“Keepworking!”shoutedBillMatters.“Weownthisland.Wegoteveryright!Keepworking.”
Theninety-tonenginesthunderedoverheadandstoppedonthetrestle,nosetonose,cowcatcherstouching,
directlyaboveMattersandHopewell’sjust-laidpipe.Onewashaulingaflatcarcrammedwithrailroadcops,theotherawrecktrainwithahundred-toncrane.Therailroadcopsshovedthelocomotivefiremenfromtheirfurnaces,threwopenthefiredoors,andsnakedhosesfromthelocomotiveboilers.
Agiantmountedthefrontofthewrecktrain.Theglaringheadlampslitahard,
hot-temperedfaceandamammothchestandbelly.MattersrecognizedBigPeteStraub,atoweringStandardOilstrikebreaker,withacompanycopstarpinnedtohisvest,agunonhiship,andapickhandleinhisfist.
“Dropyourtools!”Straubshouteddownatthemeninthefield.
“Standyourground!”yelledMatters.“Backtowork.”
“Run!”roaredStraub.“Law’sonourside.We
goteveryright!”“Let’emhaveit,boys!”Therailroadcopsscooped
burningcoalsfromthefurnacesandwhirledopenedsteamvalves.FireandboilingwaterraineddownonMatters’workmen.
“Standyourground!”Burnedandscalded,they
fled.Mattersinterceptedthe
stampedeandwadedinwithbothfists,knockingmendownastheytriedtogetaway.
Spikegrabbedhisarm.“Easeoff,Bill.Let’emgo.They’reoutgunned.”
Matterssmashedaditchdigger’sribsandknockedanothermancoldwithasingleblow.“Cowards!”
Aburningcoalsaileddownfromthestarrysky
trailingsparks.ItsetMatters’coatsleeve
onfire.Hotcoalsfannedhischeek.Thestinkofsingedhairsearedhisnostrils.HejerkedhisRemingtonfromhiscoat,ranstraightatthetrestle,andclimbedthepier.
Spikechargedbackintothebattlezoneandgrabbedhisboot.“Areyounuts?Whereyougoing?”
“KillStraub.”“He’sgottwentyyearson
youandfiftyarmedmen.Run!”
SpikeHopewelloutweighedBillMatters.Hedraggedhimoffthetrestle.
Fireandsteamdrovethemoutofrange.BillMattersaimedhishorsepistolatStraub.Spikeknockeditoutofhishand,snatcheditfromthemud,andtuckeditinhiscoat.
Matterswatchedwithhelplessfury.Thehundred-
toncraneloweredanexcavatorbucket.ItsjuttingspiketeethbitintothefreshlydugsoillikethejawsofTyrannosaurusrex.Steamhissed.Thejawscrushedshut.Thecraneclawedpipesoutofthegroundanddroppedtheminawelterofbentandbrokenmetal.
Apairofdimlightsbouncedslowlyacrossthestarlitfield.Thecountysheriffpulledupina
Pittsburghgasolinerunabout.Ascared-lookingdeputywasseatedbesidehim.
BillMattersandSpikeHopewelldemandedprotectionfortheirworkmen.Mattersshoutedthattheyhadalegalrighttorouteanindependentpipelineundertherailroad’sright-of-waybecausetheyhadboughtthislow-lyingfarmwheretheelevatedtrackscrossedontalltrestles.
“Therailroadcan’tblockus!Weownthislandfreeandclear.”
Herewastheirdeed.Mattersshookthe
parchmentinthedimglowoftherunabout’sheadlamp.
Thesheriffglanceddownfromhissteeringtiller.Heansweredtooquickly,likeamanwhohadbeenorderedtoreadacopydaysago.“SaysonyourdeedthatthePennsylvaniaRailroadleased
theirright-of-wayacrossthisfarm.”
“Onlyfortrackandtrestles.”
“Leasesaysyoumustn’tdamagetheirroadbed.”
“We’renothurtingtheirroad.We’retrenchingbetweenthetrestlepiers.”
Mattersshovedmorepaperintothelight.Seetheirengineer’sreport!Seetheirattorney’sbriefassertingtheircase!Seethiscourtcase
precedent!“I’mnolawyer,”saidthe
sheriff,“buteverybodyknowsthatMr.RockefellerhasamightybigsayinhowtheyrunthePennsylvaniaRailroad.”
“Butweown—”Thesherifflaughed.
“WhatmadeyouthinkyoucanfightStandardOil?”
—
Acoal-blackPittsburghskymirroredBillMatters’despair.
“Businessisbusiness,”hisbankerwasdroning.Mortgagedtothehilttobuildapipelinetheycouldnotfinish,theyhadtosellforpenniesonthedollartoStandardOil.“Nooneelsewillmakeanoffer.Myadviceistoaccepttheirsandwalkawayclean.”
“Theytrickedusinto
buildingitforthem,”Matterswhispered.
“WhatabouttheHook?”askedSpike.
“ConstableHook?”askedthebanker.“Partofthepackage.”
“Itisthemostmodernrefineryintheworld,”saidMatters.
“There’snodealwithouttherefinery.IbelieveStandardOilintendstoexpandit.”
“It’smadetogrow.Weboughttheentirehillandeveryfootofwaterfront.”
“TheStandardwantsit.”“Atleastwewon’towe
much,”saidSpike.“Weplanted,”said
Matters.“They’llreap.”Thebanker’svoicetube
whistled.Heputitbyhisear.Hejumpedtohisfeet.“Mr.Comstockishere.”
Thedoorflewopen.Instrodewhite-hairedAverell
Comstock,oneofJohnD.Rockefeller’sfirstpartnersfrombackintheirClevelandrefinerydays.Comstockwasamemberofthetrust’sinnermostcircle,theprivilegedfewthatthenewspaperscalledtheStandardOilGang.
“Excuseus,”hesaidtothebanker.
Withoutaword,themanscuttledfromhisoffice.
“Mr.Rockefellerhas
askedmetoinviteyougentlementojointhecompany.”
“What?”saidSpikeHopewell.HelookedincredulouslyatMatters.
Comstocksaid,“ItisMr.Rockefeller’swishthatyoustartasco-directorsofthePipeLineCommittee.”
Mattersturnedpalewithanger.Hishandstrembled.Heclenchedthemintofistsandstilltheyshook.
“Managingthepipelinemonopolywetriedtobeat?Bankruptingwildcatterdrillers?Bustingindependentrefinersoutofbusiness?”
Thetall,vigorousComstockreturnedasteelygaze.“StandardOilwastesnothing.Wemakefulluseofeveryresource,including—especiallyincluding—smart,ambitious,hard-drivingoilmen.Areyouwithus?”
“I’djoinSatanfirst,”said
SpikeHopewell.Hejammedhishatonhis
headandbarreledoutthedoor.“Let’sgo,Bill.We’llstartfreshinKansas.Wildcatthenewfieldsbeforetheoctopuswrapsitsarmsaroundthem,too.”
—BillMatterswenthometoOilCity,Pennsylvania.
Hismodestthree-story
mansionstoodonatree-linedstreetcheekbyjowlwithsimilarstuccoedandshingledhousesbuiltbyindependentslikehimwhohadprosperedintheearly“oilfever”yearsbeforetheStandardclampeddown.Therolltopdeskheusedforanofficesharedthebackparlorwithhisdaughters’booksandtoytheaters.
ThepapermodelsofLondonandNewYorkstage
setsthatthegirlshadpreferredtodollhousesoccupiedeveryflatsurface.Renderedinbrightlycoloredminiature,JulietlovedRomeofromherbalcony.Hamletwalkedtheparapetwithhisfather’sghost.RichardIIIhandedthedeathwarranttomurderers.
NellieandEdnafoundhimtherewithtearsinhiseyes.HewascradlingtheRemingtonhehadbought
fromaCivilWarvet.The“faithfulfriend”hadwonshoot-outswithteamsterswhohadgatheredinmobsatnighttosmashhisfirstpipeline—afour-milertoOilCreek—thatputtheirwagonsoutofbusiness.
Thetwoyoungwomenactedasone.
Nelliethrewherarmsaroundhimandplantedakissonhischeek.Ednawrestedthegunfromhishands.He
didnotresist.Hewoulddiehimselfbeforeheletharmcometoeitherofthem.Edna,hisadoptedstepdaughter,acubreporterfortheOilCityDerrickwhohadjustgraduatedfromAlleghenyCollege,wasthequietone.Theyounger,outgoingNellieusuallydidthetalking.Shedidnow,cloakingurgencywithgood-humoredteasing.
“Whomdoyouintendtoshoot,Father?”shejoshedin
astrongvoice.“Doburglarslurk?”
“Icamesoclose,”hemuttered.“Soclose.”
“You’lldobetternexttime.”
Mattersliftedhisheadfromhishandsandraisedhisgazetotheclear-eyed,slenderyoungwomen.Thehalfsisterslookednearlyalike,havinginheritedtheirmother’ssilkychestnuthairandstrong,regularfeatures,
buttherethesimilarityended.Onewasanopenbook.Oneavaultofsecrets.
“DoyouknowwhatRockefellerdid?”heasked.
“Ifhedrownedintheriver,they’dfindhisbodyupstream,”saidEdna.“JDRisthemasteroftheunexpected.”
“Iwishhewoulddrownintheriver,”saidNellie.
“SodoI,”saidMatters.“Morethanever.”Hetold
themaboutRockefeller’sinvitationtojoinStandardOil.“HeadofthePipeLineCommittee,noless.”
NellieandEdnalookedatthepistolthatEdnawasstillholding,thenlockedeyes.Theywereterrifiedhewouldkillhimself.Butwouldgivinguphislifelongfightforindependencekillhim,too?Onlymoreslowly.
“Maybeyoushouldtakeit,”saidNellie.
“Fatherisbetterthanthat,”saidEdna.
Hisglisteningeyesflickeredfromtheirfacestothetoytheatersandsettledonthegun.Ednadrewitclosertoherbody.AqueersmilecrossedMatters’grimface.“MaybeIcouldbebetterthanthat.”
“Youare,”theychorused.“Youare.”
Theirhelplessexpressionstorehimtopieces.“Go,”he
said.“Leaveme.Keepthegun.Easeyoursillyminds.”
“Areyousureyou’llbeallright?”
“Givemeuntilmorningtogetusedtogettingbeat.”
Heusheredthemoutandclosedthedoor.Wildthoughtswereracingthroughhismind.Hecouldnotsitstill.Fatherisbetterthanthat?
Heprowledhisoffice.Nowandthenhepausedto
peerintothetoytheaters.TwiceayearhewouldtakethegirlsonthetraintoplaysinNewYork.AndaftertheOilCityskatingrinkwasconvertedtoanoperahouse,theyattendedeverytouringcompanythatperformed.Shakespearewastheirfavorite.RomeolovingJuliet.Hamletpromisinghisfather’sghostrevenge.RichardIIIinstructinghishenchmen.Secretpromises.Secret
revenge.Secretplots.Couldhebowhishead
andacceptRockefeller’sinvitationtojointhetrust?
Orcouldhepretendtobowhishead?
Whatdoyousay,Hamlet?Makeupyourmind.Doyouwantrevenge?Ordoyouwantmore?AtenthofStandardOil’scolossalprofitswouldmakehimoneoftherichestmeninAmerica.Sowhat?How
manymealscouldamaneat?Inhowmanybedscouldhesleep?
AtenthoftheStandard’spowerwouldcrownaking.
Whatdoyousay,Richard?Howmanyplotshaveyoulaid?Whatsecretmischief?
EvenRichardwassurprisedhowblindhisenemieswere.
Matterscalculatedtheoddsbylistinghisenemy’s
weaknesses.Theall-powerful
monopolywaslikeacrackteamofstronghorses.ButseenthroughBillMatters’clearandbittereye,thosehorseswereblinkered,hobbled,andhunted:hobbledbyfearofchange;huntedbygovernmentprosecutorsandProgressivereformersdeterminedtobreaktheirmonopoly;blindedbyStandardOil’sobsessionwith
secrecy.Couldtheybedoneinlike
RomeoandJulietbytheconfusionofsecrets?
TheStandard’ssystemizedsecrecy,thesecrettrustsandhiddensubsidiariesthatshieldedthecorporationfrompublicscrutiny,bredintrigue.Ontheoccasionshe’dbeensummonedtotheStandard’soffices,hehadneverbeenallowedtoseeanothervisitor.Whoknew
whatprivatedealswerestruckinthenextroom?
RichardwasthemantobeattheStandard,theplotterof“secretmischiefs.”
Butwherewerehishenchmen?Whowouldhelphim?Whocouldhecounton?Spikewouldn’tbeworthadamn.Hisoldpartnerwasatwo-fistedbrawler,butnoconspirator,andtoosunnyasoultokillwhenkillingenteredtheplot.Heneeded
A1
tallmaninawhitesuit,withahandsomeheadof
goldenhair,anabundantmustache,andfierceblueeyes,steppedoffanextra-farelimitedatUnionDepotandhurriedforwardtocollecthisLocomobilefromtheexpresscar.Hetradedjokeswiththe
railroadfreighthandlerseasingthebigredautodowntheramp,lamentedKansasCity’slossoffirstbasemanGradytotheSt.LouisCardinals,andtippedgenerouslywhenthejobwasdone.
CouldtheyrecommendafastroutetoStandardOil’sSugarCreekrefinery?
Followingtheirdirections,hedroveoutoftherundown,saloon-linedstationdistrict,
whentwowagonssuddenlyboxedhimintoanarrowstreet.Themenwhojumpedoffweredressedmorelikeprizefightersthanteamsters.Abroad-shoulderedgiantswaggeredup,andherecognizedBigPeteStraub,whomhehadseenboardthetrainatSt.Louis.
Straubflashedabadge.“StandardOilRefinery
Police.YouIsaacBell?”Bellstooddownfromhis
auto.HewasastallasStraub,welloversixfeet,butleanaswireropeonaone-hundred-seventy-five-poundframe.Aheadheldhighandaself-containedgazesignifiedlifeatfulltide.
Straubguessedhisageataroundthirty.“Gobackwhereyoucamefrom.”
“Why?”Bellaskednonchalantly.
“There’snothingforyouinKansas.We’llfireanyman
whotalkstoyou,andtheyknowit.”
Bellsaid,“Moveyourwagon.”
Ahaymakerpunchflewathisface.
Heslippeditoverhisshoulder,steppedintosinkleftandrightfistsdeep,andsteppedbackasquickly.Thecompanycopdoubledover.
“Gethim!”Straub’smencharged.
Anautomaticpistolwitha
cavernousmuzzlefilledBell’shand,suddenasathunderbolt.“Moveyourwagon.”
—Theysoldgasolineinthefreightyards.Ahardwarestoresuppliedsparetubesandtires,atowrope,cansforwater,motoroil,andextragasoline,abedroll,andalever-actionWinchester
repeatingrifleinascabbard,whichBellbuckledtotheemptyseatbesidehim.
Hestoppedatabutchertobuyabeefsteaktogrillonanopenfirewhenhecampedforthenight,andaslabofham,coffeebeans,andbreadforbreakfastinthemorning.DowntownKansasCitywasjammedwithtrolleys,wagons,andcarriagesandfleetsofbrand-newsteam,electric,andgasolineautos.
Finallyclearingthetrafficattheedgeofthesuburbs,heheadedsouthandwest,crossedthestatelineintoKansas,openedtheLocomobile’sthrottleandexhaustpipecutouts,andthunderedontotheprairie.
N2
ocaresswasgentler,nokisssofter,thantheassassin’sfinger
onthetrigger.Machinedbyamaster
gunsmithtosilkenbalance,theSavage99lever-actionriflewouldrewardsuchadelicateunionoffleshand
steelwithdeadlyprecision.Pressureaslightasashallowbreathwouldfirethecustom-loaded,high-velocitysmokelesspowderroundthatwaitedinthechamber.ThetelescopesightwasthefinestWarner&Swaseyinstrumentthatmoneycouldbuy.SpikeHopewellappearednearandlarge.
Spikewaspacingthecorniceatopaneighty-footoilderrickthatstoodonthe
edgeofacrowdofahundredrigsoperatedbyindependentwildcatdrillers.TheytoweredovertheremnantsofasmallhamletataremoteKansascrossroadsfortymilesnorthofIndianTerritory.Sincehehadstruckoil,ahordeofnewcomersseekingtheirfortuneshadrenamedtheplaceHopewellField.
Houses,stables,picketfences,andheadstonesinthechurchyardwerestained
brownfromspoutersthathadflungoiltothewinds.Crudestoragetanks,iron-sided,wood-toppedaffairseightyfeetwideandtwentyhigh,werefilledtothebrim.Pipeslinkedthetankstoamodernrefinerywheretwo-hundred-barrelstillssatonbrickfurnacesinthicketsofcondensingpipe.Theirchimneysloftedcolumnsofsmokeintothesky.
Aboomtownofshacks
andshantieshadsprungupnextdoortofeedandentertaintheoilworkers,whonicknameditHope-Hell.Theysleptina“ragtown”oftents.SaloonsdefiedtheKansasprohibitionlawsjustasinWichitaandKansasCity.Housedinoldboxcars,theywerenotaslikelytobeattackedbyCarrieNationswingingherhatchet.Behindthesaloons,redbrakeman’slanternsadvertisedbrothels.
Railroadtracksskirtedthebustlingcomplex.Butthenearesttownwithapassengerstationwastenmilesaway.Investorsweresellingstocktobuildanelectrictrolley.
Therefineryreekedofgasoline.
Theassassincouldsmellitsevenhundredyardsaway.
—AredLocomobileblazed
acrosstheKansasplain,brightasfireandplumingdust.
SpikeHopewellsawitcomingandbrokeintoabroadsmiledespitehistroubles.Theautoandthespeedfienddrivinglikeawhirlwindwerevividproofthatgasoline—onceanotoriousrefiningimpuritythatexplodedkerosenelampsinpeople’sfaces—wasthefuelofthefuture.
Hisbrand-newrefinerywasmakingoceansofthestuff,boilingsixteengallonsofgasolineoffeverybarrelofKansascrude.Fiftythousandgallonsandjustgettingstarted.Ifonlyhecouldshipittomarket.
—Theassassinwaitedforabreathofwindtoclearthesmoke.
Youcouldnotignorewindatlongrange.Youhadtocalculateexactlyhowmuchitwoulddeflectabulletandyouhadtorefineyourcalculationsasimpetusslowedandgravitytookitstoll.Butyoucouldn’tshootwhatyoucouldn’tsee.Theoldoilmanwasamurkypresenceinthetelescopesight,obscuredbythesmokethatrosethickandblackfromahundredengineboilersand
refineryfurnaces.Hopewellstoppedpacing,
plantedhishandsontherailing,andstaredintently.
Abreezestirred.Thesmokethinned.
Hisheadcrystallizedinthepowerfulglass.
Schooledinanatomy,theassassinpicturedboneandconnectingfibersoftendonandmuscleandnerveunderhistarget’sskin.Thebrainstemwasaninchwide.To
severitwastodropamaninstantly.
SpikeHopewellmovedabruptly.Heturnedtowardtheladderthatrosefromthederrickfloor.Theassassinswitchedtobinocularstoinspecttheintruderintheirwiderfieldofvision.
Amaninawhitesuitclearedthetoprungandboundedontothecornice.Theassassinrecognizedthelithe,supple-yet-contained
fluidgracethatcouldonlybelongtoanotherpredator—adeadlypeer—andeverynervejumpedtohighalert.
Instinct,logic,andhorsesensewereinperfectagreement.Shootthethreatfirst.
Recklesspriderevolted.Noone—noone!—interfereswithmykill.IshootwhoIwant,whenIwant.
—IsaacBellvaultedfromtheladder,landedlightlyonthederrickcornice,andintroducedhimselftoSpikeHopewellwithanengagingsmileandapowerfulhand.
“Bell.VanDornDetectiveAgency.”
Spikegrinned.“DetectingincognitoinaredLocomobile?Thoughtyou
werethefiredepartment.”IsaacBelltookaninstant
likingtothevigorousindependent,byallreportsamanasopenheartedashewascombative.WithaknowingglanceatthesourceofSpike’stroubles—amammothgasolinestoragetankonthefarsideoftherefinery,eightyfeetwideandtwentyhigh—Bellansweredwithastraightface.
“Having‘detected’that
you’reawashingasoline,Itradedmyhorseforanauto.”
Hopewelllaughed.“Yougotmethere.Biggestglutsincetheautowasinvented...Whatchadoinghere,son?Whatdoyouwant?”
Bellsaid,“Thegovernment’sCorporationsCommissionisinvestigatingStandardOilforviolatingtheShermanAnti-TrustAct.”
“Dotell,”saidHopewell,
hismannercooling.“Thecommissionhired
theVanDornAgencytogatherevidenceoftheStandardbustinguprivals’businesses.”
“What’sthatgottodowithme?”
“Fiftythousandgallonsofgasolineyoucan’tshiptomarketisthesortofevidenceI’mlookingfor.”
“It’ssittingthereinthattank.Lookallyouwant.”
“Canyoutellmehowyourglutfilledit?”
“Nope.AndIwon’ttestifyeither.”
IsaacBellhadexpectedresistance.Hopewellhadareputationforbeingtoughasagamecockandscrappyasaone-eyedtom.ButthesuccessoftheVanDorninvestigationhingedonpersuadingtheindependenttotalk,bothinconfidenceandinpublictestimony.Fewoil
menalivehadmoreexperiencefightingthemonopoly.
Agehadn’tslowedhimabit.InsteadofcashinginandretiringwhenhestruckenormousoilfindsinKansas,SpikeHopewellhadbuiltamodernrefinerynexttothefieldstoprocesscrudeoilforhisfellowindependentdrillers.Nowhewasinthefightofhislife,layingatidewaterpipelinetoship
theirgasolineandkerosenetotanksteamersatPortArthur,Texas.
StandardOilwasfightingjustashardtostophim.
“Won’ttestify?TheStandardfloodedthecourtswithlawyerstoblockyourlinetotheGulfofMexico.”
Spikewasnoslouchintheinfluencedepartment.“I’mfighting’emintheStateHouse.ThelawmakersinTopekaknowdarnedwell
thatKansasproducersandKansasrefineriesaredeadunlessIcanshiptheirproducttoEuropeanmarketsthatStandardOildon’tcontrol.”
“Isthatwhytherailroaduntiedyoursiding?”
Therewerenotankcarsontherefinerysiding.Aforlorn-looking0-6-0switchenginehadsteamup,butithadnowheretogoandnothingtodoexceptshuttlematerialaroundtherefinery.
AquartermileofgrassandsagebrushseparatedHopewell’stracksfromthemainlinetoKansasCity.Theroadbedwasgraded,andgravelballastlaid,andtelegraphwirestrung.Buttheconnectingspurforthecarloadsofmaterialtobuildtherefineryhadbeenuprooted.Switches,rails,andcrosstieswerescatteredonthegroundasifangrygiantshadkickedittopieces.
Hopewellsaid,“Mylawyersjustgotaninjunctionorderingtherailroadtohookmeupagain.”
“Youwonahollowvictory.StandardOiltiedupeveryrailroadtankcarintheregion.Thecommissionwantstoknowhow.”
“Tell’emtotakeitupwiththerailroad.”
Awinterylightgrayedthedetective’seyes.Hissmilegrewcool.Pussyfootingwas
gettinghimnowhere.“OtherVanDornoperativesareworkingontherailroad.MyparticularinterestishowtheStandardisblockingyourtidewaterpipeline.”
“Itoldyou,son,Iain’ttestifying.”
“Withnopipeline,”Bellshotback,“andnorailroadtotransportyourproductstomarket,yourwellsandrefineryareworthless.Everythingyoubuiltherewill
beforcedtothewall.”“I’vebeenbankrupt
before—beforeyouwereborn,sonny—butthistime,Ijustmighthaveanothertrickupmysleeve.”
“Ifyou’reafraid,”Bellsaid,“theVanDornAgencywillprotectyou.”
Spike’smannersoftenedslightly.“Iappreciatethat,Mr.Bell.AndIdon’tdoubtyoucangiveanaccountofyourself.”Henoddeddownat
theLocomobileeightyfeetbelow.“Thatyouthinktopackatowropetocrossopencountrytellsmeyou’reacapablehand.”
“Andenoughextrapartstobuildanewonetopulltheoldoneoutofaditch,”Bellsmiledback,thinkingtheyweregettingsomewhereatlast.
“ButyouunderestimateStandardOil.Theydon’tmurderthecompetition.”
“Youunderestimatethedanger.”
“Theydon’thavetokillus.Youyourselfjustsaidit.They’vegotlobbyiststotripusupinthelegislatureandlawyerstocrushusincourt.”
“DoyouknowBigPeteStraub?”Bellasked,watchingforHopewell’sreaction.
“PeteStraubisemployedbyStandardOil’sindustrialservicefirm.That’stheir
fancynameforrefinerycops,strikebreakers,andlaborspies.HesmashedmypipelinebackinPennsylvania.”
“IbumpedintoStraubonlyyesterdayinKansasCity.”
Theoldermanshrugged,asifmonumentallyunconcerned.“StandardOilhasnomonopolyonprivatecopsandstrikebreakers.You’llfindBigPete’sbulldozingunionlaborincoal
mines,railroads,andsteelmills.Forallyouknow,he’sonhiswaytoColoradotobustuptheminersunion.Heck,Rockefellerownshalftheminesoutthere.”
“He’snotinColorado.He’sinKansas.LasttimeStraubvisitedKansas,independentrefinersbuckingtheStandardturnedupdeadinFortScottandCoffeyville.”
“Accidents,”Spike
Hopewellscoffed.“ReedRiggsfellunderalocomotive—drunk,ifheheldtopattern—andpoorAlbertHillwasrepairinganagitatorwhenhetumbledintoatank.”HopewellshotBellachallenginglook.“Youknowwhatanagitatoris,Mr.Detective?”
“Theagitatortreatscrudegasolinedistillatewithsulfuricacid,washesawaytheacidwithwater,
neutralizesitwithcausticsoda,andseparatesthewater.”
Hopewellnodded.“You’vedoneyourhomework.Inthatcase,youknowthatthefumes’llmakeyoulight-headedifyou’renotcareful.Alberttendednottobe.”
“I’mnotonehundredpercentsurebothwereaccidents.”
“I’msure,”Hopewell
firedback.Bellturnedonhim
suddenly.“Ifyou’renotafraid,whywon’tyoutestify?”
Hopewellfoldedhisamplearmsacrosshischest.“Tattlinggoesagainstmygrain.”
“Tattling?Comeon,Spike,we’renotschoolboys.Yourwork’satgraverisk,everythingyoubuilt,andmaybeevenyourlife.”
“It’lltakeyourcommissionyears,ifever,tochangeadamnedthing,”Spikeretorted.“ButfolksinKansasareitchingforafightrightnow.We’llbeattheStandardintheStateHouse—outlawrebatesandguaranteeequalshippingratesforall.AndiftheStandarddon’tlikeit,Kansaswillbuilditsownrefinery—or,betteryet,”headdedwithaloudlaugh,“buythisone
frommesoIcanfocusmythoughtsonmypipeline.”
IsaacBellheardafalsenoteinthatlaugh.SpikeHopewellwasnotassureofhimselfasheboasted.
—Couldyousnipeamanintheneckatsevenhundredyards?
AskthewinnerofthegoldmedalforthePresident’sMatchof1902.
Couldyouevenseehimathirdofamileaway?
ReadthecommendatorylettersignedbyTheodoreRooseveltinwhichTR,theheroofSanJuanHill,salutedthesharpshooterwhowonthePresident’sMatchfortheMilitaryRifleChampionshipoftheUnitedStates.
Doubtme?Readaboutbull’s-eyes
riddledatathousandyards.DidPresidentRoosevelt
shoutBully!theassassinsmiled,whenthechampiontook“Frenchleave”?
Butwho’dhavehadthenervetotellTeddythatthedeadliestsniperintheArmydesertedhisregiment?
—“Mr.Hopewell,”saidIsaacBell,“ifIcan’tpersuadeyoutodotherightthingbyyourfellowindependents,would
youatleastanswersomequestionsaboutoneofyourformerpartners?”
“BillMatters.”“HowdidyouknowI
meantMatters?You’vehadmanypartners,wildcatdrillingpartners,pipelinepartners,refinerypartners.”Bellnamedthree.
Hopewellansweredslowlyanddeliberatelyasifaddressingabackwardchild.“Thecommissionthathired
yourdetectiveagencyisinvestigatingStandardOil.BilltookupwiththeStandard.HesitstolunchwiththeirexecutivecommitteeinNewYork.Lunch—Mr.Anti-TrustCorporationsCommissionDetective—iswheretheyhatchtheirschemes.”
Bellnodded,encouragingHopewelltokeeptalkingnowthathehadgottenhimwoundup.Hisinvestigationsofar
hadbeenastudyinhowthegiantcorporationfiredimaginationsandspawnedfantasies.StandardOilhadbeenatthetopoftheheapsincebeforemostpeoplewereborn.Itseemednaturalthatthetrustwouldpossessmysticalpowers.
“Wereyousurprised?”“NotwhenIthoughtabout
it.TheStandardspotsvalue.Oil,land,machinery,men.Theypayforthebest.Bill
Matterswasthebest.”“Imeantwereyou
surprisedwhenBillMatterschangedsides?”
SpikeHopewellraisedhiseyestolookBellstraightintheface.Thenhesurprisedthedetectivebyspeakingsoftly,withemotion.“Youspoutedthenamesofafewofmypartners.ButBillandIweredifferent.Westartedtogether.Wefoughtmen,shouldertoshoulder,andwe
beat’em.Teamstersthatmadegrizzlieslookgentle.Webeatthem.Wethoughtsoalike,weknewaheadoftimewhattheotherwasthinking.SowhenyouaskwasIsurprisedBillwentwiththeStandard,myansweris,IwasuntilIthoughtitover.Yousee,Billwasneverthesameafterhelosthisboy.”
“Idon’tunderstand,”saidBell.“Whatboy?I’mtoldhehasdaughters.”
“Thepoorlittlesquirtranoff.Billneverheardfromhimagain.”
“Whydidyousay‘poorlittlesquirt.’Anunhappychild?”
“No,no,no.Smiley,laughylittlefellowIneverthoughtwasunhappy.Butallofasudden—poof—hewasgone.Billnevergotoverit.”
“Whendidheleave?”“Mustbesevenoreight
yearsago.”
“BeforeBilljoinedtheStandard?”
“Longbefore.Lookingback,Irealizethattheboyrunningoffbrokehim.Hewasneverthesame.Harder.Hardasadamantine—notthateitherofuswaschoirboys.Choirboysdon’tlastintheoilbusiness.Butsomewherealongtheline,Billgothismoraltrolleywirescrossedand—”
Hopewellstopped
abruptly.HestaredpastBellatthegasolinestoragetank.Hisjawworked.Heseemed,Bellthought,tobereconsidering.
“Butifyouwanttounderstandtheoilbusiness,Mr.Detective,youbetterunderstandthatBillMatterswasnotthefirsttogiveintoStandardOil.HalfthemenintheirNewYorkofficeweredestroyedbyRockefellerbeforehehiredthem.JohnD.
Rockefeller,he’sthedevilyoushouldbeafter.”
“WhatifItoldyouIsuspectthatoneofthosenewermenlikeBillMatterscanleadmetohim?”
“I’dtellyouthatnomaninhisrightmindwouldbitethehandfeedinghimlikehe’sfeedingBill.”
“WouldyouhaveswitchedsidesiftheStandardasked?”
Theoilmandrewhimself
erectandglaredatIsaacBell.“Theydidask.AskedmethesametimetheyaskedBill.”
“Obviouslyyoudeclined.Didyouconsiderit?”
“Itoldthemtogotoblazes.”
Bellasked,“Can’tyouseethatI’mofferingyouanopportunitytohelpsendthemthere?”
Hepointeddownattheorderlyrowsoftanksandthebelchingfurnaces,thenacross
theforestofderricksloomingovertheroofsofwhatmusthavebeenapeacefultown.Agustofwindsweptthesmokeaside.Suddenlyhecouldseecleartothefarthestofthewoodentowers.
“Youbuiltyourrefinerytoserveindependents.That’swhereyourheartlies.Wouldn’tyouagree,sir,thatyouoweittoallindependentoilmentotestify?”
Hopewellshookhishead.
Bellhadonecardleft.Hebettheranchonit.“HowmuchdidtheStandardpayforabarrelofcrudewhenyoudrilledtwoyearsago.”
“Adollarthirty-fiveabarrel.”
“Howmucharetheypayingnow?Providedyoucoulddeliverit.”
“Seventycentsabarrel.”“Theyraisedtheprice
artificiallyhigh,nearlydoubledit,toencourageyou
todrill.YouandyourfellowwildcattersdidtheStandard’sexploratoryworkforthem,atyourownexpense.Thankstoyourdrilling,theyknowtheextentoftheKansasfieldsandhowtheystackupagainsttheIndianTerritoryandOklahomafields.Theysuckeredyou,Mr.Hopewell.”
“Morehomework,Mr.Bell?”saidSpikeHopewell.“IsthattheVanDorn
Detectivemotto:‘Doyourhomework’?”
“TheVanDornmottois‘Wenevergiveup!Never!’”
Hopewellgrinned.“That’smymotto,too...Well,it’shardtosaynotoamanwho’sdonehishomework.Anddamned-nearimpossibletoamanwhowon’tgiveup...O.K.,put’erthere!”
SpikeHopewellthrustapowerfulhandintoBell’s.“Whatdoyouwanttoknow
first?”Bellsteppedclosertotake
it,saying,“I’mmightycuriousaboutthosetricksupyoursleeve.”
Hopewellstumbledbackward,clutchinghisthroat.
S3
tillgrippingthehandthatHopewellhadextended,IsaacBell
heardamutedgunshotandrealizedthatthesoundwasdelayedbythetimeittookabullettoflyanenormousdistance.HepulledSpikedownonthecornice’snarrow
plankfloor,behindthepartialshelteroftherailings.Butitwastoolatetoprotecthim.Theoilmanwasdead.Aslughadpiercedhisthroatandtornoutthebackofhisneck.
AsecondslugpassedthroughthespacethatBell’sownheadhadoccupiedahalfaheartbeatearlier.Ittwangedagainstthesteelcrownpulley,ricocheted,andsplinteredoak.Belllookedforthesource.Theshot
echoedcrazily.Itseemedtocomefromthewest,whereaplainriddledwithgulliesdrainedtowardacreek.Onthefarsideofthecreek,low,woodedhillsstretchedtothehorizon.Hespottedaflickerofmotiontothenorth.Afigurewasclimbingdownaderrickatanastonishingsevenhundredyards’distance.
IsaacBellplungedthreerungsatatimedownthe
ladder.HisLocomobilewas
parkedbetweentheslantinglegsofthederrickandtheenginehouse.Stillhot,themotorfiredonthesecondspin.Heleapedbehindthesteeringwheelandthunderedoffinthedirectiontheshothadcomefrom,weavingawildpaththroughthedenselypackedoilderricksandskiddingarounddrillmachinery,pumphouses,
engines,andmachineshops.Whenheburstoutofthelastrowofderricks,hesawabigmanonhorsebackgallopingacrosstheopenplainthatstretchedbeyondtheoilfield.
Bellracedafterhim.Thefleeingriderwaswell
mountedonastrong,big-bonedanimaloffullyseventeenhands.Bellshovedhisacceleratortothefloorboardsandwrenchedhissteeringwheelsidetosideas
heplowedhisbigautooverroughground,slewingaroundhummocksanddodginggullies.
Aheadofthehorseman,thegrasslandendedabruptlyatathickwood.Ifhegotinsidethetrees,hewasfree.Belldrovefaster.Thedeepcutofthecreekbedseparatedthegrasslandfromthetrees.Bellexulted;hehadhimtrapped.
Heyankedopenhis
exhaustbypassformaximumpower.Unimpededbybackpressure,theLocomobile’sfourcylindersroaredwithalltheirmight.
Thehorsemangallopedstraightatthecreekanddughisspursin.Thehorsegathereditslegsandjumped.Itsforelegsstruckthefarbank.Itsleftrearhoofslippeddowntheearthenwallofthecreek.Therighthoofdugintothegrass,andtheanimal
scrambledfreeandgallopedforthetrees.
IsaacBellwasforcedtoslamontheLocomobile’sanemicbrakesandslidetheautointoasidewaysdrifttostopbeforeittumbledintothecreek.HeyankedhisWinchesterfromitsscabbardbuckledtothepassengerseat.Thehorsemanwasalreadyinsidethewoods,partiallyscreenedbythethinlyscatteredouterfringeoftrees.
Bellsawonechanceandopenedfire.
HeworkedtheWinchester’sejectionleverinablurofmotion.Hadacartridgejammed,thepivotingleverwouldhavesnappedinhishands.Theheavyrifleboomedrepeatedly.Thehorseman’shatflewintheair.Heswayedandstartedtofalloff.Aflailinghandgrippedhissaddlehornandhestayedon
hismount.BeforeBellcouldfireagain,horseandriderfoundtheshelterdeepinsidethewoods.
Bellheardaloudreportbehindhim.Anothergunman?Itseemedtocomefromtheoilderricks.Itwasfollowedimmediatelybyametallicclangingnoiselikeablacksmith’shammer.Thenheheardasharpretortlikeablastingcaporaquarterstickofdynamite.
Ablindinglightflashedfromtherefinery.
AhollowBoom!shooktheair.Theexplosionblewthetopoffacrudeoiltankthatstoodintheoutermostringoftanks.Shatteredplankingtuftedintothesky.Blacksmokepillared.Thefirstexplosion,Bellsurmised,hadignitedthenaturalgasthatrosefromthecrudeoilandcollectedinthetopofthetanks.Thegasexplosionhad
settheoilitselftoburning.Thatitthreatenedto
destroySpikeHopewell’sentirerefinerywasevidencedbythesightofgangsofoilworkersarrivingontherunwithshovelsandpickstodigatrenchbetweentheburningtankanditsneighbors.Theyconvergedfromthederricksandtherefinery,theragtown,andthesaloons.Agangrolledoutacannononatwo-wheeledguncarriage.
AfieldgunwouldbeabafflingsighthadnotBellstudiedtheoilbusinessfromtoptobottomtopreparefortheCorporationsCommissioninvestigation.Regularprocedureforfightinganoiltankfirewastoshootholesinthetankbelowtheliquidlinetodraintheoilthatfedthefire.Artilleryallowedthefirefighterstostayoutsidethelethalrangeofexplosions.
Oneoftheguncarriage
wheelsslippedintoashallowgullyandsunkaxle-deepinthewet,spongyground.Bellracedtohelp,drivingtheLocomobileacrosstheprairiegroundasfastastheclumpedgrasswouldallow.Hecouldseeatthebaseoftheroilingsmokecolumnadiamond-brightcoreofflamegrowingwider,taller,andbrighter.
Bellheavedhissteeringwheelhardleftanddroveascloseashedaredalongside
thecannonwhilekeepinghisownwheelsonfirmground.Hethrewthetowropehekeptcoiledaroundthesparetires.Theguncrewtiedontothecarriagetrail.Bellacceleratedthepowerfulautoanddraggedthecannonoutofthegully.Plowingaheadslowlyenoughtoletthemenguidingitrunalongside,hepulleditintoapositionthatgavethemaclearshotattheburningtank.
Theintenseheatwasmakingthecrudeoilboilandfoamintoamaelstromofredflame,whitesteam,andblacksmoke.Alreadytheheatwastoointensefortheditchinggang.Themenbackedaway.Suddenlytheboiling,foamingoiltankexploded.Tentaclesofliquidflameshotintotheskyandcascadedtotheground,fallingonneighboringtanks.
Thefirefightersdropped
theirshovelsandran.Theybarelyescaped.Twomoreexplosionsinquicktimesentlidsflying.Twomoretanksgushedgeysersofflamethatfountainedskywardandcollapsedontanksasyetunscathed.Anexplosionbreachedthewallofatank.Oilspilled,tumblingovertheground,acrossditches,andsplashingagainstaburningshack,levelingtheflimsywoodenstructure,and
igniting.Thefiresspread,gaining
speed.Theflamesleapedthe
outerditcharoundtherefinery.Severalbuildingseruptedintoflame,andsoonthefirewasslitheringpasttherefinerytowardthebiggestholdingtankinKansas,whichSpikeHopewellhadbuilttostorehisglutofgasoline.
Thecannoncrew
exchangedfrightenedlooks.“Shoot!”saidIsaacBell.
“Onthejump!”Morefrightenedlooks.
Mostscattered,leavingBellwiththreebravemen:anindependentwildcattersportingaboss’sknee-highridingbootsandwatchchain,agray-beardedCivilWarvetinaforagecap,andayoungfarmerinabatteredslouchhat.
“Can’tshootgasoline,”
saidthewildcatter.“Toovolatile,”saidthe
vet.“It’llblowthattanklikeanitroshot.Killeveryonewithinamile.”
“Butifthecannondoesn’tsetitoff,”saidBell,“thefirewill.”
Hethoughtfastandpointedatthe0-6-0switchengineidlingontherefinerysiding.“Whocanrunthatlocomotive?”
“Me,”saidthebearded
oldsoldier.“Steamittothisendofthe
sidingcloseasyoucantothetank.”
Bellpointedatagiantspoolofdrillingcable.Theothertwounderstoodhisplanimmediately.Terrifiedexpressionsontheirsmoke-grimedfacessaidtheydidn’tlikeit.
“It’souronlychance,”saidBell.
Thespoolwassixfeet
high.Theyextractedthelooseendofthecablefromthecoil,puttheirshoulderstothespool,andcommencedrollingittouncoilthecable.Menwatchingsawwhattheywereuptoandcametohelp.
Ariggerranupwithamonkeywrenchandasackofcableclamps,nuts,andbolts.“Youboysmustbeloco,”heshoutedovertheroaroffire.“GuessI’lljointhecrowd.”Hebentthelooseendofthe
cableintoaloop,clampedittogether,anddraggedittowardthelocomotive,whileIsaacBellandtheothersdraggedtheirendtothegasolinetank.
Tankswereburningbehindthemandtoeitherside.Columnsofsmokerosefromtheincineratedcrude,swirlingliketornadoes.Theyclimbedswiftly,joinedhighoverhead,andturnedtheskyblack.
Pursuedbythefire,Bellandhishelperspulledthecabletothefootofthegasolinetank.Itwasashighasathree-storyhouse.Aladderledupitsironside.Bellslungtheloopoverhisshoulderandclimbed.Themenbelowpushedthestiffcableup,tryingtorelievehimofsomeoftheweight.Hewasbreathinghardwhenhereachedthetopandswungontothewoodenroof.The
farmerfollowedclosebehindcarryingacrowbarandanax.
“Canyourungetmethatmonkeywrench?”
“Whatareyougoingtodo?”
“Chopaholeintheroof,”saidBell,swingingtheaxwithallhismight.“Run,”hesaidagain.“IncaseIthrowsparks.”
Thefireswereadvancingquickly.Anotheroiltankexplodedandthickburning
crudeflewthroughtheair.Withverylittletimetopiercetheroof,hethankedhisluckystarsfortheNorthwesttimbercasewhenhe’dmasqueradedasalumberjack.Tar,woodchips,andsplintersflew.
Hechoppedopenaholeattheedgeoftheroof,justinsidetheironwall.Thefumesthatsuddenlyventedwerealmostoverwhelming.Hisheadspun.Thefarmercameuptheladderagain,
gaspingforwind.HepassedBellthemonkeywrench.
“What’sitfor?”“Anchor,”saidBell,
fasteningthewrench’sjawsfirmlyaroundthecable.“Runwhileyoucan.”
Heshovedthewrenchandthecableloopthroughtheholeandwedgedittightlywiththecrowbarandtheax.ThenhesignaledtheCivilWarvet,droppeddowntheladderasfastashecould,and
rantowardhim.Aspaceofabouttwo
footballfieldsseparatedthegasolinetankfromtheswitchengine,whichbackedaway,drawingtheslackoutofthedrillingcable.Whenitwastightatalong,shallowanglebetweenthetopofthetankandthesiding,Bellswungaboardtheengine.“I’lltakeher.”
“Welcometoit.”Bellputhishandsonthe
throttleandquadrant,admittedsteamtothecylinders,andbackedawaysmoothly.“Niceandeasy,now.”
“Finetouch,”saidthevet.“Where’dyoulearnit?”
Belleyedthecable,whichwastighteninglikeabowstring.“BorrowedalocomotivewhenIwasincollege.”
Thedrillingcablewasstrongenoughtodothejob.
Andtheswitchenginehadthepower.Butwouldhismakeshiftanchorholdfasttothetank’sironwall?
Moresteam.Bellpeeredthroughthesmoke.Wasthewallbulgingorwasthatwishfulthinking?
“Where’dyoutakethelocomotive?”
“MissPorter’s.”“Girls’school?”“Youngladies.”Alittlemoresteam.It
lookedlikeabulge.Suddenlythecableflew
highintheair.“Thewirebusted!”yelled
thevet.“No,”saidBell,“the
wall.”Asectionofthetank’s
ironwall,apanelsixfeetwide,poppedarowofrivets,peeledopenlikeasardinecan,andbenttowardtheground.Gasolinecascaded.
IsaacBellheldhisbreath.
Oneoftwothingswouldhappennowanditwasevenmoneywhich.
Withluck,theescapinggasolinewoulddrownthesparksstruckbyclashingmetal.
Butifitdidn’t—iftheriverpushedvolatilegasfumesaheadofit—thesparkswoulddetonatethefumesandblowtherefinery,theoilfield,thehamletofwoodenhouses,theboomtown’s
A4
fifty-thousand-gallonriverofgasolinesurged
throughtheholeIsaacBellhadrippedinthetankandspilledontotheground.Itfloodeddowntheshallowslopethatsurroundedthetankandspreadinabillowingtorrentofrapidsand
whirlpools.“Run!”saidBellandled
theway.Thattheywerestillalive
meanthehadpreventedacatastrophicexplosion.Buttherewasnostoppingthefire—notwithglobsofburningcrudeoilfromtheexplodingoiltanksfallinglikebrimstone.Atleast,hehoped,peoplehadachancetoescape.
Thegasolineignited
withinseconds.Itburnedfiercely,tumblinggreatrollersofflameacrosstheprairie.Therollerspouredintothegulliesandfilledthemwithfingersoffirethatracedtowardthedistantcreekandsetitablaze.
Herdingmenaheadofit,pluckingthefallentotheirfeet,BellspottedHopewell’sheadquarters.Itwasahousehehadconvertedintoanoffice.Whatmusthavebeen
itsgardenwasnowbracketedbyarefineryfurnaceandastoragetank.Telegraphwiresranfromitalongtheuprootedrailspurtothemainline.
Bellpushedinthefrontdoor.
“CanyouwireWashington?”
Thetelegraphergapedatthecliffofflameengulfingthetanknextdoorandjumpedoutthewindow.IsaacBelltookoverthekeyand
rattledoutamessagetoVanDornheadquartersasfastashecouldsendMorsecode:
DISPATCHINVESTIGATORSHOPEWELLFIELDMURDERARSONONTHE—
Thekeywentdeadunderhishand.
Helookedoutthewindow.Thetelegraphpoles
thatjoinedtheHopewellFieldtotheWesternUnionsystemalongthemainraillinewereburning.Thewireshadmelted.Thelastwordnevermadeit,buteverydetectiveintheVanDornoutfitknewthaturgentwiresfromIsaacBellendedJUMP!
—Valuablemenarrivedthenextdayonfastmailtrains.
Thevolatilegasolineandkerosenehadburnedoffintheinterveningtwenty-fourhours,butthefiresstillrampaged,feedingrelentlesslyontheheavycrudeoil.Bellbroughtthefirstarrivalsuptodateonwhatlittlehehaddiscoveredwhiletheywereenrouteandmarchedthemthroughthedestruction.
“I’mprettymuchitforwitnesses.Everyonewas
busyworkingbeforetheexplosionandrunninglikethedevilafter.Asformotive,theindependentsblameStandardOilfortheshootingandburning.”
“Anyoneofferingproofofaconnection?”
“IranintoBigPeteStraubinKansasCity,andtherearerumors‘someone’sawhimyesterdayinFortScott.ThemanwhosehairIpartedwithmyWinchesterfitthe‘big’
part,butIneversawhisface.”
Thetalldetectivewashollow-cheekedandhoarse,havingnotsleptsincethekillingandthefire.Hiseyesglitteredanangryblueinafaceblackwithsoot.Quickthinkinganddecisiveactionhadsavedlives.NoonehaddiedafterSpikeHopewell.ButthefirewouldbankruptSpike’sfriends,theindependents.
Damagerangedoverboththefieldandtherefinery.Theheathadbeensointensethatitmeltedthestationaryenginesthatpoweredthedrillsandtwistedsteelpipes.Woodenderricksandpumphouseshadburnedtoash.Wellswereruined,withtheircasingfallingintothebores.Ofonehundredwellsbeingdrilledoralreadypumping,onlyahandfulhadsurvivedwithbothderrickandpump
houseintact.VanDornexplosives
expertWallyKisley,whodressedlikeatravelingsalesmaninathree-piececheckerboardsuit,gaveaconnoisseur’swhistleofappreciation.“Youjustcan’tbeatarefineryfireforuttermayhem.”
RedheadedArchieAbbott,asociallyprominentNewYorker,amasterofdisguise,andBell’sbestfriend,was
notatallappreciativeandinafoulmood.“IwasimpersonatingaLondon-basedjewelfenceinChicagoandwasonebloodyinchfromnailingLaurenceRosaniawhentheBosspulledmeoffthecase.”
“Thisisathousandtimesmoreimportant,”saidBell,“thanagentlemansafecrackerrobbingChicagotycoons’wivesandmistresses.ThatMr.Van
DornpulledyouoffthecaseoughttogiveyouacluehowcrucialtheCorporationsCommission’scontractistotheagency.”
“We’vegottocatchRosaniabeforeheaccidentallyblowssomeone’shouseupalongwithhissafe.”
“IletoldHopewelldown,”Bellcuthimoffcoldly.“Iwillnotrestuntilhiskillerhangs.”
“Youweren’tona
bodyguardjob,”saidArchie.Bellsteppedcloserwitha
glacialstare.WallyKisley,theirelder
bymanyyears,reckonedthatArchieAbbottwasstretchingthelimitsofafriendshipthathadstartedinacollegiateboxingring.HesignaledArchietoshuthistrapbeforeitturnedintoarematchandspokebeforethefoolmadeitworse.
“Readywhenyouare,
Isaac.”Bellsaid,“Firstquestion:
Didthesamecriminalsdotheshootingandsetthefires?
“Archie,Iwantwitnesses.Someonemusthaveseenthesnipereitherclimbupthatderrickorclimbdown.Carryingarifle,maybedisguisedasatool.Someonemusthaveseenhisdamnedhorse.
“Wally,Iwantyoutolookforanysortofdelayed
detonation:clockworksoraslowfuse.It’slikelyateamofmenattacked,thoughatimingdevicewouldallowonemantofirstprimeanexplosive,thenpickuphisrifle.Butcrackmarksmenarespecialists.Wouldsuchasniperalsoknowhowtorigatimingdevice?”
“Anyoildrillerorrefineryhandcanturnfirebug,”saidWally.“It’sthenatureofrefineriestoexplode.
Lightningboltsblowthemupregularly.”
“IpacedthedistancefromthederrickwhereIsawthekillertowhereSpikewasshot.Nearlysevenhundredyards.Howmanycommonarsonistscouldshootsoaccuratelyatextremerange?Suchmarksmanshipwouldtakeatop-notchsniper,notthesorttodirtyhishandsandriskcapturesettingfires.Snipersprefertooperatefar
removed.”“Adelayeddetonatorcan
befarremoved,”saidArchie.“Timeinsteadofdistance.”
“Witnesses,”saidBell.“Findwitnesses.”
KisleyinterruptedwhateveranswerArchiewasabouttoutter.“Fire’scoolingdown.Isaac,canyoupointmetowardthefirsttanktocatchfire?”
—IsaacBelltracedtherapidclick-click-clickofatypewritertoawalltentpitchedbesidetheburned-outruinsofHope-Hell.Itstoodnexttoabuckboardwagon.Themulewasoutofitstraces,grazingonapatchofgrassthathadescapedthefire.Herappedhisknucklesonthetentpole.
“E.M.Hock?”Thetypewriterkeptgoing.Bellduckedhisheadto
passthroughthecanvasflapsandwasastonishedtoseeawomanhunchedovertheportablemachine.Shewastypinginsuchadeepstateofconcentrationthathedoubtedshehadanyideahewasfivefeetbehindher.ShehadsilkychestnuthaircutsoshortthatBellcouldseethegracefullineofthenapeofherneck.
Apaleshirtwaistwithahighnecksnuggedclosetoherlong,elegantback.
Thetentcontainedafoldingcotwithabedroll,aKodakdevelopingmachineonthecardtablebehindher,andastackoftypingpaper.Astrawhatwasperchedonthebedrollasiftossedthereassherushedtothetypewriter.Bellreadthetopsheetofpaper:
SPECIALTOTHEOILCITYDERRICK.NEWYORKPAPERS
PLEASECOPY
HopewellField,Kansas
AmysteriousfireswepttheHopewelltractofbuildings,tanks,stills,andderricks,devastatedthehamletofKent,anddestroyedtheshack-and-canvasboomtownthat
servicedthefields.Theaveragelossequals$3,000awell.Mostwereruinedbytubingdroppingintothem.Fewerthansixofonehundredwellssurvivewithderricksandpumphousesstanding.Theindependentsarewipedout.Onlythosedrillerswhowerebacked,secretly,bysubsidiariesofStandardOilcanaffordtorebuildtheirruinedengines,burntderricks,andmeltedpipe.
Bellasked,“HowmanywildcatterswerebackedbyStandardOil?”
“Putthatdown,”shecalledoverhershoulder.“It’snotreadytoberead.”
“I’mlookingforE.M.Hock.”
“She’sbusy,”saidthewomanandkepttyping.
“IsometimessuspectedthatthemysteriousE.M.Hockwasashe.”
“Whatarousedyour
suspicion?”“Ahigherthanusual
degreeofhorsesenseinherreportingandadistinctshortageofbombast.What’stheE.M.standfor?”
“EdnaMatters.”“Whykeepitsecret?”“Toderailexpectations.
Whoareyou?”“IsaacBell.VanDorn
DetectiveAgency.”Sheturnedaround,looked
himoverwithseveregray-
greeneyessoftenedonlyslightlybytheboyishcutofherhair.“AreyoutheprivatedetectivewhojusthappenedtobewithMr.Hopewellwhenhewasshot?”
Herears,thoughtBell,wereexquisite,andhewasstruckforciblybyhowattractiveawomancouldbewiththeshortesthairhehadeverseen.
“We’reinvestigatingfortheCorporations
Commission.”“Doyouknowanything
aboutoil?”“I’manexpert.”Adarkeyebrowrose
skeptically.“Expert?How?Didyouworkintheoilfields?”
“No,MissMatters.”“Didyoustudychemical
engineering?”“No.”“Thenhow’dyoubecome
anexpert?”
“Ireadyourarticles.”Sheturnedaway,poised
herfingersoverthetypewriterkeys,andstaredatthesheetofpaperinthemachine.Shebangedawayatthekeys.Asmilequirkedthecornerofhermouthandshestoppedtyping.
“O.K.,wehavesomethingincommon,Mr.Bell:Privatedetectivesflattertheirsubjectsasshamelesslyasnewspaperreporterstomake
themtalk.”“Isincerelymeantto
complimentE.M.Hock’sHistoryoftheUnder-andHeavy-handedOilMonopoly.You’reawonderfulwordsmith,andyouseemtobeincommandofyourfacts.”
“Thankyou.”“Besides,Iwouldnotbore
abeautifulwomanbyflatteringhergoodlooks,whichshemusthearevery
day.”“Mr.Bell,domethe
courtesyofleavingmy‘womanliness’outofthisconversation.”
Thatwouldbelikediscussingthenatureofdaylightwithoutmentioningthesun—aconceptIsaacBellkepttohimselfintheinterestofgarneringevidencefromasavvynewspaperreportersenttocoverthefire.
—“AreyoubyanychancerelatedtoBillMatters?”
“He’smyfather.”“Wouldthatexplainyour
sympathyfortheindependents?”
“Sympathy.Notbias.IbelievethattheindependentbusinessmangivesAmericanenterprisespine.Independentsarebrave,
braveryisthefoundationofinnovation,innovationbreedssuccess.Thatsaid,”sheaddedwithathinsmile,“Ihavenodoubtthatthevastmajorityofindependentsgivenhalfthechancewouldbeashard-nosedasMr.Rockefeller.”
“Thatdistinctionshinesthroughthearticles,”saidBell.
“Youdoseemtowantsomethingfromme,sir.”
IsaacBellgrinned.“Ilookforwardtodiscussingthat‘something’whenI’mfinishedinvestigatingmurder,arson,andcorporatelawbreaking.Inthemeantime,mayIask,doIunderstandcorrectlythatyourfatherwasinpartnershipwithSpikeHopewellbeforehejoinedStandardOil?”
“Untilsixyearsago.IsthatwhatyouwerediscussingwithMr.Hopewellwhenhe
wasshot?”“Didtheypartongood
terms?”“Didn’tMr.Hopewelltell
youthathewasangrywithFatherforjoiningupwithStandardOil?”
BellrecalledHopewell’semotionaltellingofMatters’son,thiswoman’sbrother,runningaway,andsaid,“Hedidnot.Infact,hespokewithsomesympathy.Howdidtheypart?”
“Mr.HopewellcalledFatheratraitor.FathercalledMr.Hopewellastuck-in-the-mudfool.Mr.HopewellaskedFatherwasthereanythinglowerthanaStandardOilmagnate,excepthepronouncedthewordas‘maggot.’”
ShecastBellasmile.“Witnessessworethefirstpuncheswerethrownsimultaneously.”
Bellasked,“Havethey
spokensince?”“Ofcourse.Sixyearsis
toolongforoldfriendstoholdagrudge,and,besides,theybothflourished—Mr.HopewellwildcattinginKansasandFathermanagingtheStandard’spipelines.”
“HowwillhetakethenewsofHopewell’sdeath?”
“Hewilltakeithard.Veryhard.”
IsaacBellasked,“WouldIfindyourfatherinNew
York,at26Broadway?”“Whenhe’snot
traveling.”Somethingthumpedthe
canvasroof.EdnaMatterslookedup.Adelightedsmilemadeherevenmorebeautiful,Bellthought.Shebrushedpasthimandoutthetentflaps.Hefollowed.AthickManilahempropehungdownfromthesky.Threehundredfeetoverhishead,awickerbasketsuspended
underayellowgasballoonwasdraggingtherope,whichhoppedandskippedacrosstheground.
Ednaranafterthedragline.
Acanvassacklikeabank’smoneybagsliddownitandlandedatherfeet.
Shewavedittothepersonlookingdownfromthebasketandhurriedbacktothetent,wheresheopenedthebagandremovedasturdybuff-
coloredenvelope.InsidewasatincylinderofthetypethatcontainedKodakrollfilm.
“Isthatcamerafilm?”“Mysistersnappedan
aerialphotographofthedevastation.”
“Yoursister?”“Halfsister.Myreal
fatherdiedwhenIwasababy.MymothermarriedmystepfatherandtheyhadNellie.”
Shesteppedinsidethetent
andemergedwithbinoculars.“Igottheimpressionyoulikebeautifulwomen,Mr.Bell.Havealook.”
BellfocusedonchestnuthaircutasshortasEdnaMatters’,abrilliantsmile,andexuberanteyebrows.Edna’sfinefeaturesseemedmagnifiedinNellie’sface.
“Ifyoufindherappealing,Mr.Bell,Irecommendyouleaveherbeautyandwomanlinessoutofyour
conversationalrepertoire.”“Why?”“Read.”Theyellowballoonhad
driftedonthelightwind.Nowthatitwasnolongerdirectlyoverhead,Bellcouldreadhugeblacklettersonitsside:
VOTESFORWOMEN
“Asuffragette?”
“Asuffragist,”EdnaMatterscorrectedhim.
“What’sthedistinction?”“Asuffragettetriesto
convertmentothecauseofenfranchisement.”
“IheardAmandaFaireatMadisonSquareGarden,”saidBell,recallingastatuesqueredheadwhohadenthralledhermostlymaleaudience.
“ThefairAmandaisashiningexampleofa
suffragette.Asuffragistconvertswomen.You’llgetfurtherwithNellieifyouunderstandthatwomenwillgaintherighttovotewhenallwomenagreethatenfranchisementisasimplematterofjustice.”
“Whataboutthemen?”“Iftheywanttheirmeals
cooked,shirtsironed,andbedswarmed,theywillhavenochoicebuttogoalong.OrsoNelliebelieves...Andby
theway,you’llgetnowhereifyouevermentionAmandaFaireinhercompany.”
“Rivals?”“Fireandice.”ArchieAbbotthurriedup,
shieldinghiseyestoinspecttheballoon.“Getreadyforaspeechifthat’sNellieMatters.”
“Doyouknowher?”“IheardherinIllinoislast
fallatacountyfair.Twohundredfeetintheair,she
deliveredaWilliamJenningsBryanstem-winderthathadtheladieseyeingtheirhusbandslikecandidatesforamasshanging.”
“Thisishersister,”saidBell,“E.M.Hock...MayIpresentmygoodfriendArchibaldAngellAbbottIV?”
Theredheaded,blue-bloodedArchiewhiskedhisbowleroffhisheadandbeamedasmilefamousin
NewYorkforquickeningtheheartbeatsofNewYorkheiressesandtheirsocialclimbingmothersandarousingthesuspicionsoftheirnewlywealthyfathers.“Apleasure,MissHock.AndmayIsaythatrumorsIhaveheardamongjournaliststhatyouareawomanareborneoutsplendidly.”
Bellcouldnothelpbutcomparethechillyresponsewhenheutteredasimilar
complimenttothewarmsmileArchiereceivedfromEdna.
“How’dyouhappentogetheresoquickly?”Archieaskedher.“Thefireisstillsmoldering.”
“IwaspassingbyonmywaybackfromIndianTerritory.”
Archiestaredatthebuckboard.“Inthat?”
“Reportingon‘oilfever’takesmeplacesthetrains
don’tvisit.”“Isaluteyourenterprise
andyourbravery.Speakingofoilfever,Isaac—I’msureyou’veheardthisalready,MissHock—thewildcattersareblamingStandardOilforthefire.”
“Didyouinterviewanywitnesseswhopresentedevidencetosupporttheircontention?”askedBell.
“Mostly,likeyousaid,theyheardthatsomebody
sawStraub,somewhere—that’sBigPeteStraub,MissHock,aStandard—”
“Mr.Straubwasjustpromotedtorefinerypolicesuperintendent,”Ednainterrupted.
“Whichmeanshetravelsanywherehepleases,”saidBell.“Goon,Archie.”
“IdidfindoneguywhoclaimedtoseeMr.StraubrentingahorseinFortScott.”
“Didheseethehorse?”
“SaiditwastallasaClydesdale.”
“TheoneIsawwasamightyleanClydesdale.AreyourwitnessessuggestingStandardOil’smotiveforsettingthefire?”
“OneschoolofrumorsaysStandardOilwantstoshutdownKansasproductiontoraisethepriceofoilbylimitingtheproductreachingmarket.”
BelllookedtoseeEdna’s
reaction.Shesaid,“TheStandardisstillheavilyinvestedinthePennsylvaniaandIndianafields.They’resomewhatdepleted,sotheoilismoreexpensivetopump.TheStandardwilllosemoneyiftheydon’tkeepthepriceup.”
“Whatelse,Archie?”“Anotherrumor,adoozy,
claimsthatStandardOilislayingpipelinesstraightthroughKansastotapricher
fieldsinOklahoma.Aftertheyconnectthosefieldstotheirinterstatepipeline,they’llbypassKansasoilcompletelyandshutdownKansasproduction.Thenwhentheproducersareforcedtothewall,theStandardwillbuytheirleasescheapandlocktheoilinthegroundforthefuture.Theirfuture.”
BelllookedagaintoEdnaMatters.
Thenewspaperwomanlaughed.“Whenyougrowupwithafatherintheoilbusiness,youlearnthatrumorsaboutStandardOilarealwaystrue.AndJDRhearsthemfirst.”
“Whataboutthisone?”askedBell.
“TheKansaspartfitstheirpattern.IndianTerritoryandOklahomaappearrichinnewstrikes.ButtheStandard’spatterndoesnotinclude
shootingpeopleandsettingfires.”
“ExactlywhatSpikeHopewelltoldme.”
EdnaMatterssaid,“Clearly,Mr.Hopewellwasmurdered.Butthere’snoevidenceofthecauseofthefire.”
“Yet,”saidBell.HeconcededthattheonlycrimethatheknewforsurehadoccurredwasthesniperkillingofSpikeHopewell.If
anyonecoulddeterminethecauseofthefire,itwasDetectiveWallyKisley.ButtogetthebestworkoutofWally,hehadtostayoutofhiswayuntilheaskedforahand.
Archieasked,“HowdoesJohnD.Rockefellerheartherumorsfirst?”
“Whentwomenshakehands,JDRknowsthetermsoftheirdealbeforetheyreporttotheirfrontoffices.”
“How?”askedBell.“Hepaysspiestokeep
himaheadofeverydetailinbusinessandpolitics.Refiners,distributors,drillers,railroadmen,politicians.Hecallsthemcorrespondents.”
“Doeshepaynewspaperreporters?”
EdnaMattersHocksmiledatthetalldetective.“He’sbeenknowntoaskreporters.”
“Whatdotheysay?”“Ican’treportonother
reporters.Thereareconfidencesinvolved.Amongfriends.”
“Doyouhaveanypersonalexperienceinwhatreporterssay?”Archieasked,hismosteligiblebachelorinNewYorksmileworkingovertime.
Ednasmiledback.“Personally?Iquotedmyfather’soldpartner,poorMr.Hopewell.”
“WhatdidHopewell
say?”“Whydon’tyouaskMr.
Bell?Hewasthelasttospeakwithhim.”
Bellsaid,“HetoldRockefellertogotoblazes.”
“Actually,”Ednacorrected,“hewasparaphrasing.Whatheoriginallysaid,atleastaccordingtomyfather,was,‘I’djoinSatanfirst.’”
“HowdidRockefellerrespondtoyourpreference
forSatan?”“Ihaven’taclue.JDR
doesnotaskinperson.Hesendspeoplewhoaskforhim.”
“He’safamousnegotiator.Didtheycomebackwithacounteroffer?”
EdnaMattersansweredBellseriously.“Theyaskedmetoreconsider.SoIdid.JDRnevergivesinterviews.Isaid,Allright,I’llfillyouinonsomethingsIlearnif,in
return,Mr.Rockefellerwillsitdownwithmeandmyquestionsforafulldayinterview.”
“Whathappened?”“Ineverheardback.”“Butit’sinteresting,”said
Bell.“Thathedoesn’tseemtoholdyourwritingagainstyourfather.Iunderstandheisamemberoftheinnercircle.”
“Myfatherisavaluableman,andJDRappreciatesvaluablemen.”
“Evenvaluablemenwhosedaughtersareathorninhisside?Hecan’tloveyourarticles.You’veexposedallsortsofbehavior,bothunderhandedandoutrightillegal.”
Ednaasked,“Doesn’thiswillingnessnottoholdmeagainstmyfatherspeakratherhighlyofMr.Rockefeller?”
WallyKisleyhurriedup,grease-smudgedandreekingofsmoke.Hetippedhisderby
toEdna.“Isaac,whenyouhaveamoment...”
Bellsaid,“Berightthere.Comealong,Archie.”
TheyfollowedWallytowardthetankthathadexplodedfirst.
“Extraordinary!”saidArchie.“Ajournalistwhodoesn’treekofboozeandcigars.”
“Handsoff,”saidBell.“Isawherfirst.”
“IfIweren’talmost
engagedtoacoupleofladiesduetoinheritsteelmills,Iwouldgiveyouarunforyourmoney.”
Bellsaid,“KeepinmindthesoonerwearrestthemarksmanwhoshotSpikeHopewell,thesooneryoucangobacktocatchingyourjewelthief.”
“WhatdoesthathavetodowithMissE.M.Hock?”
“Itmeansgofindwitnesses.I’lldealwith
Wally.”Archiemadeabeelinefor
thecaboosesaloon.BellcaughtupwithWallyKisleyataheapofashandwarpedmetalwherethecrudestoragetankhadfoldeduplikeacrumpledpaperbag.
Wallysaid,“Itblewwhenyouweredownbythecreek,right?”
Bellpointed.“Pastthatbend.”
“Byanychancedidyou
hearasecondshotfired?”“Notdownthere.”“Howaboutbehindyou?
Backattheoilfield.”“Iheardsomething.I
don’tknowifitwasashot.”“Couldithavebeen?”“Itcouldhavebeen.There
wasaheckofaracketallatonce.Why?”
“Ifoundthis,”saidWally.Hewasholdinganoddlyshaped,roundedpieceofcastironbyasquarebracket
attachedtothetop.“Careful,it’sstillhot.Takemyglove.”HepassedBellhisleftgloveandBellheldthemetalinit.
“Heavy.”Heexamineditclosely.It
wassixincheshigh.Ononeside,theentiresurfacewaspockedwithminuteindentations,asifablacksmithhadpeeneditwithahammer.“It’sshapedlikeanupside-downduck.”
“Ithoughtthesamething,
atfirst.”Bellupendeditandheldit
withthebracketunderit.“Itisaduck.”
“Shapedlikeaduck.”“Youknowwhatthisis?”
saidBell.“Youtellme.”Bellhadapprenticed
underWallyandhisofttimespartner,MackFulton,yearsago,andoneofthemanythingshehadlearnedfromtheveteraninvestigatorswas
nottovoiceanopinionuntilasecondbrainhadanopportunitytoobservewithoutbeinginfluencedbythefirst.
“It’saknockdowntarget.Ashootinggalleryduck.”
Wallynodded.“Thatbracketattachestothetargetrail.Theduckhingesdownwhenabullethitsit.”
“Where’dyoufindit?”“Thirtyfeetfromthefirst
tankthatblew.”
“Whatdoyouthink?”“Theracketyouheard
rightbeforetheexplosioncouldhaveincludedarifleshot,abulletsmashingintothisduck,andablastingcap.”
“SowhileIwaschasingthesniperonthehorse,anothermarksmandetonatedtheexplosivethatignitedthefire.”
“That’smyread.Heshottheduck,whichjarredablastingcap.”
“Or,”saidBell,“themanIchasedledmeonawild-goosechasewhiletherealassassinstayedputtosetthefire.”
“Highmarksforasenseofhumor,”saidWallyKisley.“Usingashootinggalleryduckforatarget.”
“I’mnotlaughing,”saidIsaacBell.“ButIwillgivethemhighmarksforthenerveittooktosetuptheduck,thecap,andthedynamiteright
M5
idnightwaswarmedbyaslightbreezeasa
crescentmooninchedtowardthewest.Theassassinsatonalargebarrelthathadbeencutintoachairinfrontoftheswitchingofficeoftherailroadfreightyard.The
interiorwasdarkandemptysincenotrainswereduetoleaveorarriveuntillatethenextmorning.
TheassassinlitaRamónAllonesHavanacigarandretrievedfromacoatpocketaleatherpouchthatcontainedagoldmedal,afifty-dollarbill,andaletteronheavystock.Thetouchofwinddissipatedanattemptatblowingaself-satisfiedsmokering.
Themedalwasasheavy
asadoubleeaglegoldpiece.Andthecenterwasfashionedlikeatarget,withconcentricringsandasingledotintheprecisecenterofthebull’s-eye.Ithungfromaredribbonthatwasattachedtoagoldbarpinengraved“RifleSharpshooter.”
Thefifty-dollartreasurynotewouldhavebeenjustanotherbillofpapermoneyexceptwhenyouturneditoveryousawthatthe
presidenthadsignedtheback—asif,theassassinoftenthought,thebusypresidenthadsuddenlyshouted,“Wait!Bringthatback.I’llsignitforthatfineyoungsoldier.”
IthadtobeRoosevelt’ssignaturebecauseitmatchedhissignatureonthecommendationletterthatthepresidenthadtyped,ashewasknowntodowithpersonalletters,onWhiteHouseletterhead.The
assassinreaditbythelightofaglobeabovetheswitchingofficedoorforperhapsthehundredthtime:
THEWHITEHOUSE
WashingtonOctober1,1902
IhavejustbeeninformedthatyouhavewonthePresident’sMatchforthemilitarychampionshipoftheUnitedStatesofAmerica.I
wishtocongratulateyouinperson...
Theassassinskippedsomefolderolabouthonoringtheregimentandthevalueofvolunteersoldiers—asiftheireyeshadsightedthetargetsandtheirfingerscaressedthetrigger.Fatchance.Thencamethebestpart.
Icongratulateyouandyourpossessionofthe
qualitiesofperseveranceanddetermination—
Asoundoffootstepsongravelinterruptedallthought.Quickly,everythingwentbackintotheleatherpouchandwasreturnedtothecoatpocket.
“Whyhere?”BillMattersgrunted.“Wecouldhavemetinthecomfortofmyprivatecar.”
“Tooostentatious,”saidtheassassin.“Ihavealwayspreferredalifeofsimplicity.”BeforeMatterscouldreply,theassassinmotionedtoanotherbarrelchairwiththecigar.“Iadmitthey’dbemorecomfortablewithseatcushions.”
EveninthedarkMattersshowedhisanger.“Whyinblazes—whyinthefaceofallgoodsense—didyoushootHopewellwhenthedetective
waswithhim?”Theassassinmadeno
apologyandofferednoregretbutretortedloftily,“ToparaphrasethecorruptTammanyHallerSenatorPlunkitt,IsawmyshotandItookit.”
BillMattersfelthisheartpoundingwithrage.“Allmykowtowingtothosesanctimonioussonsofbitchesandyoublithelyunderminemywholescheme.”
“Igotawayclean.Thedetectivenevercameclosetome.”
“YoubroughtasquadofVanDornstothestate.”
“We’redoneinthisstate.”“We’redonewhenIsay
we’redone.”Matterswasdeeply
troubled.Hiskiller,whowasvitaltohisplan,operatedinaworldandaframeofmindbeyondhiscontrol,muchlesshisunderstanding:efficientas
awell-oiledmachine,withguninhand,butpossessedoffthekillingfieldbyarecklessfaiththatnothingcouldevergowrong,thatfortunewouldneverturnnorconsequencescatchup.
“I’msurprisedbyyourdisappointment.”Therewasapausetoexhaleacloudofcigarsmoke.“Inaturallythoughtyouwouldcelebrateyouroldfriend’sdeparture.”
“VanDorndetectives
haveasaying:‘Wenevergiveup!’”
ToMatters’disgust,thisdrewanother,evencolderresponse.“Never?Ihaveasaying,too:‘Nevergettooclosetome.’Ifhedoes,Iwillkillhim.”Theassassinflickedanashfromthecigar.“Who’snext?”
“There’safellowgivingmetroubleinTexas.”
“Who?”“C.C.Gustafson.”
“Ah!”Thekillernoddedin
vigorousagreement,admiringBillMatters’cunning.C.C.GustafsonwasnotmerelyanewspaperpublisherandathorninMatters’sidebutavocalfoeofStandardOilandafirebrandinstigatorbelovedbythereformershell-bentondrivingthetrustoutofTexas.
Matterssaid,“WithacrackerjackVanDornprivatedetectiveonthecase—thanks
toyou—we’vegottothrowoffsuspicion.”
Nothinginthemurderer’sexpressionindicatedtheminutestacceptanceofblame.Infact,itlookedasifthemurderofSpikeHopewellunderthenoseofaVanDornhadbeencompletelyforgottenwhileMatters’inclusive“we”hadkindleddelight.
“MayIofferyouafinecigar?”
Matterssimplyshookhisheadno.
“Brilliant!PublicoutrageexpectstheworstofStandardOil.They’llblameGustafson’skillingonthebogeymaneveryonelovestohate.”
“Canyoudoit?”“CanIdoit?”The
assassinacceptedtheassignmentwithadramaticflourish:“YoumayconsiderMr.C.C.Gustafson’spresses
stopped.”Mattersdidnotdoubt
they’dbestopped.Abulletthroughtheheadwouldtakecareofthat.Butwhatbotheredhimthemostwashownearwashisprivateassassintoflyingoutofcontrol.
I6
saacBellwentlookingforthecoronerinIndependence,the
MontgomeryCountyseat,notfarfromtheIndianTerritoryborder.Thecourthouseclerkdirectedhimtothecoroner’sundertakingparlor.Aplumberrepairingthe
refrigeratingplanttoldBelltotrythejailhouse.Dr.McGradewasvisitingthejailerinhisapartmentabovethecells.TheyweredrinkingwhiskeyinteacupsandinvitedBelltojointhem.
LikemostKansansBellhadmet,Dr.McGradewasfullyawareoftheCorporationsCommissioninvestigationandhugelyinfavorofanyactionthatreinedinStandardOil.Bell
explainedhisconnection.“Gladtohelpyou,
Detective,butI’mnotsurehow.Didn’ttheBourbonCountycoronerconducttheautopsyonMr.Hopewell?”
“I’vealreadyspokenwithhim.I’mcuriousaboutthedeathofAlbertHill.”
“Therefineryfellow,”Dr.McGradetoldthejailer,“whodrownedinthestill.”
Thejailersippedandnodded.“Downin
Coffeyville.”Bellasked,“Whenyou
examinedMr.Hill’sbody,didyouseeanysignsofbulletwounds?”
“Bulletwounds?Youmustbejoking.”
“Iamnotjoking.Didyouseeanybulletwounds?”
“Whydon’tyoureadmyreportfromtheinquest.”
“Ialreadyhave,atthecourthouse.”
“Well,heck,thenyou
knowMr.Hilltumbledintoastillofboilingoil.Bythetimesomeonenoticedandfishedhimout,aboutallthatwasleftwashisskeletonandbeltbuckle.Therestofhimdissolved...”Hepausedforabroadwink.“Now,thiswasn’tinmyreport:Hisbeltbucklelookedfine.”
“Howabouthisbones?Wereanybroken?”
“Fracturedfemur.Longknitted.Musthavebustedhis
legwhenhewasakid.”“Noholesinhisskull?”“JusttheonesGodput
thereforusalltoseeandhearandbreatheandeatandwhatnot.”
“Andnodamagetothevertebraeinhisneck?”
“ThatIcan’tsayforsure.”“Whynot?”“Idon’tunderstandwhat
thishastodowiththeCorporationsCommission...”
Bellsawnoreasonnottotakethecoronerandthejailerintohisconfidence.Ifthewordgotaround,someonemightcometohimwithmoreinformationaboutAlbertHill.Hesaid,“SeeingashowMr.HopewellwasshotwhileIwasdiscussingthecommissioninvestigationwithhim,Iaminterestedinrunningdownthetruthaboutthedeathsofotherindependentoilmen.”
“O.K.Igetyourpoint.”“Whycan’tyousayfor
surewhetherthevertebraeinMr.Hill’snecksuffereddamage?”
“Ididn’tfindallofthem.Thediscsandcartilagebetweenthemmusthavedissolvedandthebonesscattered.”
“Thatwasn’tinyourreport.”
“Itdidnotseempertinenttothecauseofdeath.”
“Didthathappentothevertebraeinhisspine?”
“Whatdoyoumean?”“Didhisthoracicand
lumbarvertebraeseparateand‘scatter’thewayyou’reassuminghiscervicalvertebraedid?”
Thedoctorfellsilent.Thenhesaid,“Nowthatyouask,no.Thespinewasintact.Aswasmostoftheneck.”
“Most?”“Twovertebraewere
attachedtotheskull.Fourwerestillconnectedtothespine—thethoracicvertebrae.”
“Howmanycervicalvertebraearethereinthehumanskeleton?Seven?”
“Seven.”“Sowe’remissingonly
one.”Thedoctornodded.“One.
Downinthebottomofthestill.Dissolvedbynow,ofcourse.Distilledintofueloil,
orkeroseneorgasoline,evenlubricants.”
“But...”“Butwhat,Mr.Bell?”“Doesn’titmakeyou
curious?”“Aboutwhat?”“Yousaytwocervical
vertebraewerestillattachedtotheskull.Sothemissingvertebrawouldbecervicalnumberthree,wouldn’tit?”
“Threeitwas.”“Wouldn’tyoulovetoget
aganderatcervicaltwoandcervicalfour?”
“Notreally.”“Iwould.”“Why?”“Let’sassumethatinstead
ofthedisccartilagedissolving,somethingknockedcervicalthreecleanoutofMr.Hill’svertebralcolumn.”
“Likewhat?”askedthecoroner,thenansweredhisownquestion.“...Likea
bullet.”“You’reright,”saidIsaac
Bell.“Itcouldhavebeenabullet...Aren’tyoutemptedtohavealook?”
“Theman’salreadyburiedintheground.”
Bellsaid,“I’dstillbetemptedtohavealook.”
“I’mstrictlyagainstdisinterringbodies.It’sjustamessofajob.”
“Butthispoorfellowwasjustaheapofbones.”
Dr.McGradenodded.“That’strue.Thoseboneslookedpolishedlikehe’dpassedahundredyearsago.”
“Goodpoint,”saidBell.“Whydon’twehavealook?”
“Icanlendyoushovels,”saidthejailer.
—ThecoroneratFortScott,arailroadtownwhereseverallinesconverged,wasa
powerfullybuiltyoungdoctorwithachiponhisshoulder.
IsaacBellasked,“Didyouseeanybulletwounds?”
“Ofcoursenot.”“Whydoyousay‘of
coursenot’?”“Readmytestimonytothe
coroner’sjury.”“Ihavereadit.”“Thenyouknowthat
ReedRiggswasmangledbeyondrecognitionafterfallingoffarailroadplatform
underalocomotive.”“Yes.But—”“Butwhat?”“Nothinginyourwritten
reportindicatesthatyoudidanymorethanwritedownwhattherailroadpolicetoldyou—thatMr.Riggsfellunderthelocomotivethatrolledoverhim.”
“Whatareyouimplying?”“Iamnotimplying,”said
IsaacBell,“Iamsayingforthrightlyandclearly—to
yourface,Doctor—thatyoudidnotexamineMr.Riggs’body.”
“Itwasamutilatedheapoffleshandbone.Hefellunderalocomotive.Whatdoyouexpect?”
“Iexpectapublicofficialwhoispaidtodeterminethecauseofacitizen’sdeathtolookbeyondtheobvious.”
“Now,listentome,Mr.PrivateDetective.”
“No,Doctor,youlistento
me!Iwantyoutolookatthatbodyagain.”
“It’sbeenburiedtwoweeks.”
“Digitup!”Thecoronerrosetohis
feet.HewasnearlyastallasIsaacBellandfortypoundsheavier.“I’llgiveyoufairwarning,mister,getlostwhileyoustillcan.IpaidmywaythroughmedicalschoolwithmoneyIwonintheprizering.”
Isaacshruggedoutofhiscoatandremovedhishat.“Aswehavenogloves,Ipresumeyou’llaccommodatemewithbareknuckles?”
—“Whatdidyoudotoyourhand?”askedArchieAbbott.
“Cutitshaving,”saidBell.“Whatdoyouthinkofthatwatertank?”
TheywerepacingFort
Scott’sSt.Louis–SanFranciscoRailwaystationplatformwhererefinerReedRiggshadfallentohisdeath.“Possible,”saidArchie,imaginingarifleshotfromthetopofatankintheFriscotrainyardtowheretheystoodontheplatform.“Ialsolikethatsignaltower.Infact,Ilikeitbetter.Goodanglefromtheroof.”
“Excepthowdidheclimbuptherewithoutthe
dispatchersnoticing?”“Climbedupinthedark
whileatrainrumbledby.”“How’dhegetdown?”“Waitedfornight.”“Butwhatifhemissedhis
shotandsomeonenoticedhim?Hewouldbetrappedwithnoescape.”
“You’resurethatRiggswasshot?”
“No,”saidBell,“notpositive.There’sdefinitelyaholeinhisskull.Inapieceof
thetemporalbone,whichwasn’tshattered.Butitcouldhavebeenpiercedbysomethingotherthanabullet.Bangedagainstarailroadspikeorachunkofgravel.”
“Whatdidthecoronerthink?”
“Hewasinclinedtoagreewithmyassessment.”
—BellandArchietookthetrain
downtoCoffeyville,aboomingrefinerytownjustabovetheKansas–IndianTerritoryborder.TheylocatedAlbertHill’srefineryandthetankinwhichHillhaddiedwhilerepairingtheagitator.
Theylookedforsightlines.Theyclimbedtotheroofoftheboilerhouse,fourhundredyards’distance,thentotheroofofthebarrelhouse.Bothoffered
uninterruptedshotsatthetank.Thebarrelhousehaditsownfreightsidingtoreceivethelumbertrainsthatdeliveredwoodforthestaves.
“Ridesinandout,”saidArchie.
“I’dgofortheboilerhouse,”saidBell.“They’dneverhearashotovertheroarofthefurnaces.”
“Iftherewasashot.”“Itoldyou,”saidBell.
“AlbertHill’snumbertwo
cervicalvertebraappearedtohavebeennicked.”
Archiesaid,“BasedonhowhekilledSpikeHopewell,theassassiniscapableofhittingbothHillandRiggs.Buthe’soneluckyassassinthatnoonesawhim.Orcoollydeliberateinchoosinghismoment.”
IsaacBelldisagreed.“ThatmaybetrueofAlbertHill.ButwhenRiggswasshot,thetimingwasdictated
bytheapproachofthelocomotive.Inbothcases,theshotswerefiredbyamarksmanascalculatingandaccurateasthekillerwhoshotSpikeHopewell.”
“Iftherewereshotsfiredatall,”saidArchie,andWallyKisleyagreed,saying,“Therecouldhavebeenshots,andshotswouldexplainhowthevictimshappenedtofall,buttheycouldhavejustaseasilyfallenasSpike
HopewellsuggestedtoIsaac:onedrunk,oneovercomebyfumes.”
Bellsaid,“IhaveGradyForrerlookingintotheirbackgrounds.”ForrerwasheadofVanDornResearch.
—IsaacBellwentlookingforEdnaMattersHockandfoundherloadinghertentontoherbuckboard.Hegavehera
hand.“Whereyouheaded?”“Pittsburgh.”“Inawagon?”“Pittsburgh,Kansas.”“Iwasgoingtoaskcould
youprintmethataerialphotographyoursistersnapped,butyou’vepackedyourKodakmachine...”
“Actually,Imadeanextra.Ithoughtyou’dasktoseeit.”
Shehaditinanenvelope.ShehandedittoBell.“Oh,
there’sasecondphotographthatNellietookbeforethefire.Soyouhaveabeforethefireandanafter.”
“Sheflewoverbefore?”“Bycoincidence.Shewas
hopingtoaddressaconventioninFortScott,butthewindchangedandtheballoondriftedoverhere.Ihopethepictureshelp.”
Bellthankedherwarmly.“Speakingofcoincidence,”hetoldher,“myfatherserved
asanintelligenceofficerintheCivilWarandhetriedtotakeballoondaguerreotypesofConfederatefortifications.”
“I’veneverseenanaerialoftheCivilWar.”
“Hesaidthattheswayingmotionblurredthepictures.Whenthewindsettleddown,arebelshotthecameraoutofhishands.”
“Quiteadifferentwarstory.”
“Actually,”Bellsmiled,
“herarelytalkedaboutthewar.Theveryfewtimeshedid,hetoldahumoroustale,liketheballoon.”
“Ireallymustgo.”Hehelpedherontothe
wagon.“Itwasapleasuremeetingyou.Ihopetoseeyouagain.”
EdnaMattersHockgavehimalonglookwithhergray-greeneyes.“Iwouldlikethat,Mr.Bell.Letushopeithappens.”
“Whereareyougoingnext?”
“AfterPittsburgh,I’mnotsure.”
“IfIweretowirethepapersometime,perhapstheycouldputusintouch.”
“I’lltellthemto,”shesaid.
Theyshookhands.“Oh,pleasesaygood-byetoMr.Abbott.”
Bellpromisedhewould.Ednaspoketothemuleandit
trottedoff.Belltookthephotographs
toWallyKisley.Wallygavealowwhistle.
“Fascinating.I’veneverhadalooklikethisbefore.”
ThephotographNellieMattershadsnappedafterthefirelookedlikeraindropsonamudpuddle.Allthatwasleftofthestoragetankswerecircularpockmarksintheground.Thebrickfurnacesoftherefinerystoodlikeruined
castles.Thesteelpotswerewarped,stavedin,orcompletelyflattened.Theremainsofthederrickslookedlikebonesscatteredbywildanimals.
Thepictureshehadtakenbeforethefirewasshroudedinsmoke,butSpike’srefinerystilllookedalmostasorderlyasanarchitect’sblueprint.WhatstoodoutwasthelogicofHopewell’sdesigntoefficientlymovethecrudeoil
throughtheprocessofbrewinggasoline.
“Nowyousee,Isaac,theycouldn’thavepickedabettertanktoblow.Lookatthis.”
“Buttheirtargetwasthegasolinetank.Whydidn’ttheyblowitfirstoff?”
“Couldn’tgettoit.Outintheopenlikeitwas,inplainsight,there’snowaytolaytheexplosivesandsetupthetargetduck.Butlookhere.Theycouldnothavechosena
tankbetterpositionedforthefirstexplosiontostartthingsrolling.Someoneknowshisbusiness.”
—Ice-eyedMackFulton,anexpertonsafecrackers,arrivedfromNewYorkdressedinfunerealblack.HehadnewsforArchieAbbott.“JewelthieftheNewYorkcopsarecallingtheFifth
AvenueFliersoundsalottomelikeyourLaurenceRosania,inthathe’sgotaneyefortopqualityandbeauty.”
ThatcaughtArchie’sinterestbecauseRosaniawasknowntoleaveuglypiecesbehindregardlessofvalue.Theycomparednotes.LikethediscriminatingRosania,Mack’sFifthAvenueFlierrobbedsafesonmansions’upperfloors.
“NewYorkcopsthinkhe’sscalingwalls,butI’mwonderingifhe’stalkinghiswayupstairs,romancingtheladiesandcharmingthegents,likeyourguy.”
“How’dhegettheresofast?”askedArchie.ArecentrobberyinNewYorkhadtakenplacelessthanadayafteraRosania-soundingjobinChicago.
“20thCenturyLimited?”“Ifhe’spulledoffhalfthe
jobswethink,hecanaffordit.”
“HegetstoplaytheNewYorkandChicagofencesoffeachother,too.Bargainuptheprice.Thatremindsme,Isaac.IbroughtyouanotefromGradyForrer.”
BelltoreopentheenvelopefromResearch.
Buttohisdisappointment,ForrerhadnotdiscoveredanyspecialconnectionsbetweenSpikeHopewell,AlbertHill,
andReedRiggs—nomutualpartners,noknownfeuds.Alltheyhadincommonwasbeingindependentoilmen.Evenifallofthemwereshot,theshootingswerenotrelatedonapersonallevel.
“O.K.,”saidBell.“TheonlyfactIknowforsureisthatSpikeHopewellwasshot.Twoquestions,gents.Bywhom?Andwhy?”
Archiesaid,“Hopewellhadanenemywhohatedhim
enoughtokillandjusthappenedtobeacrackshotatsevenhundredyards.”
“Or,”saidMackFulton,“Hopewellhadanenemywhohatedhimenoughtohiresomeonetokillhimwhohappenedtobeacrackshotatsevenhundredyards.”
“Or,”saidWallyKisley,“Hopewellhadanenemywhohatedhimenoughtohireaprofessionalassassintokillhimwhoseweaponofchoice
wasariflewithaneffectiverangeofoversevenhundredyards.”
Bellsaid,“I’mbettingonWally’sprofessional.”
“That’sbecauseaprofessionalmakesitmorelikelythatyourothertwovictimswereactuallyshot.But,ohboy,Isaac,you’retalkingaboutamazingshooting.”
“Forthemoment,let’sagreetheywereshot.Who’s
themastermind?”“Allthreeindependentoil
menwerebattlingStandardOil.”
“WasHopewellaCongregationalistbyanychance?”WallyKisleyasked.HegrinnedatMackFulton.Thejoke-crackingpartnerswereknownintheVanDornAgencyas“Weber&Fields,”forthevaudevillecomedians.
“Presbyterian.”“Toobad,”saidWally.
“WecouldhavearrestedRockefellerifhewas.”
ThenewspaperswerefullofstoriesaboutaCongregationalistConvocationinBostonthathadturneddownamillion-dollardonationbyJohnD.RockefellerbecauseRockefeller’smoneywas“tainted.”
“Thatmoneysureistainted,”chorusedWallyandMack.“’Tain’tyours!’Tain’t
mine!”“Listenclose,”saidBell,
grinning.“ThelastwordsHopewellsaidtomewasthathehadwhathecalledtricksuphissleevetobuildhistidewaterpipeline.WallyandMack,talktoeveryoneinKansaswhoknewhim.Findouthisplan.”
“Yougotit,Isaac.”“Archie?RundownBig
PeteStraub.FindoutwherehewaswhenSpikewasshot.
FindoutifmaybeIwingedhimwithmyWinchester.Butwatchyourself.”
“Thankyou,Mother.ButIthinkIcanhandlehim.”
“That’syourcall,”Bellshotbackfirmly,“ifhe’salone.Butifhe’srunningwithabunch,getaholdofWallyandMackbeforeyoubracehim.I’llbebacksoonasIcan.”
“Whereyougoing,Isaac?”
“Washington,D.C.”“Butyoudon’thave
anythingtoreport.”“I’mnotgoingtoreport.”“Thenwhatareyougoing
for?”“ToshakeuptheBoss.”
B7
y1905theVanDornDetectiveAgencyspannedthe
continent,withfieldofficesinmajorcitiesandmanytowns.ItmaintainednationalheadquartersatthePalmerHouseinChicago,whereJosephVanDornhad
foundedthefast-growingoutfit.ButVanDornhimself—gamblingthataprivatedetectiveagencywithanationalreachcouldprofitbycontractingitsservicestoafederalgovernmentill-equippedtohuntmoderncriminalsacrossstatelines—spentmoreandmoretimeinhisWashington,D.C.,fieldoffice.
ItwasatthenewandunabashedlylavishWillard
Hotel,twoblocksfromtheWhiteHouse,andIsaacBellnotedthatithadgrownbyseveralmoreroomssincehislastvisit.HecreditedtheBoss’swarmingfriendshipwithPresidentRoosevelt,hisindustriouscourtingofthepowerswhoruledtheJusticeDepartmentandtheU.S.Navy,hishonestname,hiscolorfulreputation,broadcastinSundaysupplementfeatures,andhisIrishcharm.
VanDorn’sprivateofficewasasumptuouswalnut-paneledinnersanctumdesignedtomakebankers,industrialists,senators,andcabinetsecretariesfeelathome.Itwasequippedlikethenervecenterofagreatrailroad,withnumeroustelephones,voicetubes,anelectricintercom,aself-windingstockticker,andatelegraphkeyfortheagency’sprivatewire.
WindowsontwosidesofferedapreviewofclientsandinformantsarrivingonPennsylvaniaAvenueor14thStreet,andithadaspyholeforsizingupprospectsinthereceptionroom.
TheBosswasalarge,solidmaninhisfortieswithafriendlysmilethatcouldturncoldinaflash.Hewasbald,hisskullashiny,highdome,hischeeksandchinthickwithredwhiskers.Bristlybrows,
redashisbeardandsideburns,shadedhiseyes.Onlywhenheopenedthemwidetostareamanfullinthefacedidherevealenormousintelligenceandcolossaldetermination.Hecouldbemistakenforawell-offbusinessman.Criminalswhomadethatmistake,andtheywerelegion,weremarchedoffinhandcuffs.
VanDornglancedupatIsaacBellwithgenuine
affection.Hewasleaningoverthe
mouthpieceofoneofthethreecandlesticktelephonesonhisdesk,withonemeatyfistpressingtheearpiecetohisear.Theothergrippedavoicetubeintowhichheissuedaterserequest.Hereplacedthevoicetubestopper,roaredordersintothetelephone,bangedtheearpiecebackonitshook,snatchedupanother
telephoneandpurred,“SenatorStevens,IcannotrecallsuchhospitalityaswasextendedbyyouandMrs.Stevensthispastweekend...”
Asecretary,invest,bowtie,andshoulder-holstered,double-actionColt,hurriedin,placedatypewrittenletteronthedesk,exchangedcylindersintheDeVeauDictaphone,andhurriedoutwiththefullone.
“...Thankyou,Senator.IhopeyoucanjoinmeforlunchattheCosmosClub...Oh,yes,Ibelong.IcanassureyouthatnoonewasmoresurprisedthanIwhentheytappedmetojoin.Whoknowswhatthemembershipcommitteewasthinking...Ilookforwardtoseeingyounextweek.”
Hereturnedtheearpiecetoitshookandsignedtheletteronhisdesk.
“Goodtoseeyou,Isaac.”“Goodmorning,sir.
You’relookingprosperous.”“Busyasaone-armed
paperhanger.WhatbringsyoubackfromKansas?”
“Whatmaysound,atfirst,likeastrangerequest.”
“I’lljudgewhatisstrange.Whatdoyouwant?”
“IwantyoutoinveigleJohnD.Rockefellerintohiringtheagencytoarrestthemarksmanwhomurdered
SpikeHopewell.”VanDornsatbackand
regardedthetalldetectivespeculatively.
“Thatisstrange...evenbyyourstandards.WhywouldRockefellerdothat?Heknowswe’reinvestigatinghimfortheCorporationsCommission.”
“IbroughtyouthelatestnewspapersfromTopekaandKansasCity.”
BellspreadtheKansas
Watchman,theKansasCityJournal,andtheKansasCityStaronVanDorn’sdeskandshowedhimtheheadlinesaboutthemurderofSpikeHopewell.Thenheopenedthemtotheeditorials.
VanDornreadquickly.“They’rehowlingforRockefeller’shide.They’repracticallyclaimingthatRockefellerpulledthetrigger.Dotheyknowsomethingaboutthepresidentof
StandardOilthatwedon’t?”“Rockefellerdidnotshoot
anyone,ofcourse.ButthekillingismakinghimlookevenworsethanthepeopleofKansasthoughthewas.AndsinceStandardOillockeduptheirpipelinesandtheirtankcars—andtheywerealreadymadashornetsaboutcrudedroppingtoseventycentsabarrelandkerosenejumpingtoseventeencentsagallon—theyequatehimwiththe
devil.”VanDornlookeddubious.
“You’resuggestingthatifwecatchthekilleratRockefeller’sbehest,itwillimprovehisreputation.”
“AccordingtoE.M.Hock,hehasaslewofpublicistsonhispayrolltoimprovehisreputation.Beingblamedformurdercan’tbemakingtheirjobanyeasier.”
“It’sathought,”VanDornsaidcautiously.“I’llmullit
over.”Bellknewfrom
experiencethatVanDorn’smullingcouldtakealongtime.Heimmediatelysaid,“We,too,wouldcomeoutsmellinglikeroses.”
“Howso?”“Mr.Rockefeller’sfellow
magnatesandtycoonswatchhiseverymovelikehungrywolves.TheywillnotethegoodworktheVanDornsdoforhimandrememberusthe
nexttimetheyneedadetectiveagency.AswillyourfriendsattheJusticeDepartment.AndtheNavy.EventheTreasuryDepartment—ifIrecallcorrectly,SenatorStevenschairstheCommitteeonFinance.”
“True,”VanDornnodded.“Alltrue.I’llseewhatIcando.I’llhavetothinkonwhichwirestotryandpull.”
“Ihaveanideafora
differentapproach,”Bellsaid.VanDorn’shighbrow
beetled.“I’mbelatedlygainingtheimpressionthatyoucamehereloadedforbear.”
“Rockefellerpaysso-calledcorrespondentstospyforhim.Youcanbethe’sgotplentyinCongress,andprobablyevensomedeepinsidetheCorporationsCommission.Inaddition,heisableto‘listenin’on
telegramscarriedonhispipelines’privatewires.”
“IamawarethatRockefellerunderstandsthepowerofinformationmorethananyotherbusinessmaninthecountry.TheWarDepartmentandtheSecretServicecouldtakelessonsfromhisbook.What’syour‘differentapproach’?”
“Whatifweweretocausethewordtodriftbacktohimthatpeopleareconvincedthe
assassinworksforStandardOil?”
“How?”“Wecouldhavepeople
passrumorstohiscorrespondents.Wecouldeveninsertfalsemessagesontheprivatelines.”
“AllthattogiveRockefellertheimpressionthatthepublicbelievesthatStandardOilhiredanassassin?”
“Atwhichpointweask
forthejobofcatchingtheassassin.Andwhilewe’rehuntinghim,wewillalsobeinapositiontocollectevidenceforthecommissionfrominsidetheStandard.”
“LikeaTrojanhorse?”askedtheBoss.
IsaacBellsmiled.“Icouldnotputitbettermyself.”
—BigPeteStraubwasnot
easilyimpressed.Hissheersizeawedmostmen.Theycrossedthestreetwhentheysawhimcrowdasidewalk,backedupwhenheenteredaroom,ranwhenhereachedforapickhandle.Hewasaccustomedtotheirfearanditmadehimscornful.Whatsethimapartfromsaloonbrawlers,andraisedhimhighabovetheirranks,washisabilitytodistinguishthosefewmenofunusualpoweror
abilitythatheshouldnotfrighten.Heknewhowtosayyes,sir,toamanwhocouldhelphimandsoundlikehemeantit.
Thelittleguywiththeriflewasoneofthose.Heseemedrich.Orrichenough.Hepaidgenerously,tentimeswhatPeteearnedfromtheStandard’sindustrialservicefirm.Ingold,theminutethejobwasdone.Hespokerarelyandneverloudly—one
whisperedwordinsteadoftwo—andneverifagesturewoulddo.Hewasasalertasawolf,intenselyawareofwhatwasgoingonaroundhim.Hewaspatient;hecouldsitalldaywaitingforashot.Andwhenthingsflewapart,heneverlosthisnerve.
ButwhatmadetheassassinsospecialtothehulkingStandardOilthugwasthathewassomethingtowatch.Inhishands,thesleek,
hammerlessSavage99lookeddeadlyasarattlesnake.Thereweretimes,BigPetethought,youcouldnottellwherehisfingersstoppedandthebluesteelbegan.Heworegloves,blackgloves,tightasasecondskin,withatinypatchcutoutwherehisfingertouchedthetrigger.Heworeahatwithaslightlyabbreviatedbrim,whichStraubwassurehehadhadspeciallymadesoit
wouldshadetheeyepieceofthetelescopebutnotgetinhisway.Heworeadarkscarf,likeacowboybandanna,aroundhisthroatthatcoveredhisneckandhischin.
Andcouldtheguyshoot!HecouldkillpeopleStraubcouldn’tevensee.Sure,hehadatelescope,butitwasmorethanthepowerfulglass,morelikesomethingoutofamagicshow.Whenhisbullet
leftthegun,ittraveledsureasaflierontherails,acertainconnectionbetweenhistriggerfingerandhistarget’shead.
TheassassingesturedforBigPetetofirefirst.Hiseyeswereempty,hisriflesteady.
ThiswasthefirsttimeBigPetehadfiredalongsidethemarksman.Inthepasthehadcoveredtheescaperoutetothrowoffpursuit,iftherewasany,anddrawfireashehad
whentheVanDornschasedhiminHopewell,Kansas.ButhereinSoutheastTexas,intheboomtownofHumble,theywerecrouchingsidebysideonaflatroofbehindthefalsefrontofatallsaloon.Planningstep-by-stepasalways,theassassinhadchosenshootingholesinthecurlicue-carvedtopoftheornatefront.
Straub’sjobwastofirefirsttobreakawindow.His
handsweresteady,buthecouldfeelhispalmsgettingwet.Hewasadecentshot.TheboltactionSpringfield’03wasagoodweapon.Andhistargetwasfullytwofeetsquare.
C.C.Gustafson—editoroftheHumbleClarion,who’dbeenmakingacareerofcriticizingStandardOilpracticesinTexasandprovokingthelegislaturetoexpelthetrustfromthestate
—wasstandingbehindthewindowsettingtype.
BigPeteaimedattheblood-reddotofhisbowtie.
“Don’ttrytohithim,”whisperedtheassassin.
“Iknow,”saidStraub.“Justbreaktheglass.”Howhadtheassassinknownwherehewasaiming?Theguymissednothing.Straubshiftedtherifleandsighteddeadcenterinthewindow.Heheardtheassassintakea
shallowbreathandholdit.“Now!”BigPetesqueezedhis
trigger.TheSpringfieldboomed.Glassflew.Theeditorlookedup,
wastedahalfbreathstaring,thentriedtodivebehindthepress.
Theassassin’sSavagegaveasharpcrack.Theeditortumbledbackward.Then,toStraub’ssurprise,theassassin
firedagain.Nextsecond,theywererunning,crouched,acrosstheroof,thendowntheladdertothealleybehindthesaloon.
“Goodshot!”Straubexulted.
“Missed,”saidtheassassin,hisvoiceemotionless.
Amansteppedaroundthecorner.Hehadunbuttonedhisflyasifabouttourinateonthewall.Squintingaroundfor
thesourceofthegunshots,hesawtwomenrunningtowardhimwithrifles.
“Killhim,”saidtheassassin.
Straubbrokehisneck.Theassassingestured.Straubslungthebody
overhisshoulderandtheyran,followingtheescaperoutetheyhadrehearsed.Aftertheyhadputdistancebetweenthemandthesaloon,theassassingesturedtodrop
thedeadmanbesidearainbarrelontopofStraub’sSpringfield.
—GradyForrerofVanDornResearchsentIsaacBellatelegramtoalerthimtoashootinginfar-offTexasthatmightpossiblypertaintohisinvestigation.BellhadknownForrersinceJosephVanDornhadhiredhimtoestablishthe
ResearchDepartmentandtrustedhisjudgment.HeimmediatelywiredTexasWaltHatfield,theformidableVanDorndetective—aformerRanger,raisedbytheComanche—whooperatedasaone-manfieldofficeforthebiggeststateintheUnion.
REPORTEDITORSHOOTINGHUMBLEOIL?
B8
illMattersreadandrereadadozennewspaperreports
aboutatransatlanticcableJohnD.RockefellerhadsentfromCannes,France,tohisFifthAvenueBaptistChurchSundayschoolclass.TheNewYorkandCleveland
papershadpublishedthecablebackinJanuarywhenhewasabroad,andithadbeenprintedandreprintedthroughthespringaspaperafterpaperusedthegreatman’swisdomtoinspirethedevoutandfillspace.
“Delightfulbreezes.Ienjoywatchingthefishermenwiththeirnetsonthebeach,andgazinguponthesunrisingoverthebeautifulMediterraneanSea.Thedays
passpleasantlyandprofitably.”
ItwasanopensecretatStandardOilheadquartersthatpublicistsschemingtofurbishupRockefeller’sreputationplantedstoriesinthenewspapers.ButMatterssuspectedtherewasmuchmoretothiscablethanpolishingthepublicimageofagreedytycoonintoaglowingexampleofthepleasantoldageeveryone
lookedforwardto.AdeepfeelinggnawedhisgutthatRockefellerhadtransmittedcodedmessagestohiselderlypartnersaboutasecretdealhewasnegotiatingoverseasunderthecloakofaretireetravelingaroundEurope.
Whateverthepiratewasupto,Matterswantedinonit.
Mattershimselfwasnostrangertocodedmessages.Hecommunicatedwithhisassassinwithcryptic
instructionsinthewantadsofdailynewspapers.Hefeltsostronglythatthiscablewasbig—somethinghuge,thesortofdealthesupposedlyretiredpresidenthadtimetopursuethankstounderlingslikehimtakingoverday-to-dayoperations—thathedecidedtoriskconsultingaclandestinepartnerhehadcultivatedamonghisfellowmanagers.
OldClydeLapham,an
earlyStandardOilpartner,waslosinghisgriptodementia.Whentheothersrealizedhewasnolongerstrikingahighbattingaverage,theyhadbegunexcludinghimfromprivatedeals.Laphamknew,orsensedenoughofwhatwashappeningtoaccept,warily,thekindnessandrespectthatthemuch-younger,vigorousMatterspretendedtooffer.
Laphamsaidhesuspected
asecretdeal,too,whenMattersbroachedthesubject.Stungthathehadnotbeeninvitedtopartake,hetranslatedthebasicsofthemessageoverasupperMattersinvitedhimtoatMcdonald’sOysterHouseupbyBleeckerontheBowery,wherenoonewouldrecognizethem.Mattersorderedwinetoloosenhimup.Lapham’svagueeyeskeptlockingontheempty
littleneckclamshellsasiftheyheldsomesecret.Hehadathinvoice.
“‘Delightfulbreezes’meansbigchangesareunderway,”hereportedmatter-of-factly.“‘Ienjoywatchingthefishermenwiththeirnetsonthebeach’meansthatMr.Rockefellerisspyingoncompetitors.”
Buttheoldmanwasbaffledby“gazinguponthesunrisingoverthebeautiful
MediterraneanSea.”Pawingpurposefullyacrossthetable,hepickedupanemptyclamshellandexamineditclosely.
“SirMarcusSamuel’sfathergothisstartsellingthese.”
“Sellingwhat?”“Seashells.OldMarcus
Seniorimportedorientalseashells,soldthemtopeopledecoratingtheirhouses.WheredidyouthinkJunior
gotthemoneytoinventhisgoddamnedoiltankers?”
SirMarcusSamuel,whohadpioneeredafleetofbulk-oil-carryingsteamers,commandedtheirpowerfulEnglishcompetitor,ShellTransportandTrading.Therichestdistributorofrefinedoil,incanspackedinwoodencases,toIndiaandChina,SamuelhadruncirclesaroundthemightyStandardformorethanadecadeand
hadrecentlyincreasedhissalesforcebyformingtheAsiaticPetroleumCompanywiththeRoyalDutchCompany.
MattersregainedLapham’sattention,withsomeeffort,andcoaxedhimtoconcentrateon“Thedayspasspleasantlyandprofitably.”
Laphamfinallysaidthathebelievedthat“Thedayspasspleasantlyand
profitably”meantthatRockefellerwaslayinggroundworkforhisnextmove.Hepickedupanothershell.
“Whatmove?”Mattersasked.
Laphamshrugged.“ThesunrisingoverthebeautifulMediterraneanSearisesintheeast.”
Ofcourse!TherichBakuoilfieldsontheCaspianSeathatpumpedhalftheworld’s
oilwereintheeast.ChaosthreatenedBaku.January’sBloodySundaymassacreattheRussianczar’sWinterPalaceinSt.PetersburghadinflamedrevolutionaryunrestandMuslim–Christianhatredsimultaneously.Civilwarthreatenedtheoilfields.
Inthatinstant,BillMattershadtorestrainhimselffromlungingacrossthetabletokissLapham’swrinkledhand.Thelooney
oldmanhaddonehimahugefavorandrippedthescalesfromhiseyes.Hehadbeenthinkingtoosmall.Waytoosmall.HesuddenlysawtheworldasRockefellerdid.
ThatitwasdefinitelycodegalvanizedMatters.Hemadeaneducatedguessbasedinpartonthesixyearshe’dbeencirclingtherimoftheinnercircleoftheStandardOilGangandbasedinpartonaperceptiveanalysisbythe
assassinwhospeculatedthatRockefellersensedanopportunitytobreakthestrangleholdthathisoverseasenemies—theNobelandRothschildfamiliesandSirMarcusSamuel—hadonRussianoil.
HowcouldRockefellernotbetemptedbythespoils?FightinganddestructioninBakuwouldshutdownhalftheworldsupplyandthepriceofoilwoulddoubleor
tripletotwo,tothree,tofourdollarsabarrel,pricesthathadn’tbeenseenindecades.Americanoilmenwouldcheer.ButJohnD.Rockefellerwasnoordinaryoilman.
Wouldn’theimaginemuch-richerspoilsthanatemporaryjumpinprice?Wouldn’theseethechaosofcivilwarasanopportunitytodisplacetheRothschilds,overthrowtheNobels,sink
Shell,andownitall?BillMattersknewinhis
gutthatthiswasthechancehehadbeenworkingfor.Somethingthisbigwouldnevercomeagain.WhateverRockefellerwasschemingintheeast,Mattershadtomakehimselfpartofit.
Hissuccessthusfar,sincejoiningtheStandard—hisgrowingwealthandpowerwithinthecorporation,thoughstillnotintheinner
circle—provedhehadbeenrighttobankonthesecrecythatpervadedthetrust.Secretshadgivenhimroomtooperate,ashadthemadcapdistractionofeveryonefromRockefellerondownwhowerebusygettingricher.
Businesswasroaring.Newmarketswereenormous:fuelforshipsandpowerplants,gasolinetofeedtheautomobileboom.Butsupply,too,wasgrowing;
vastnewoilfieldsinKansas,Oklahoma,Texas,Mexico,andCaliforniasurpassedtheoldPennsylvania,Ohio,andIndianafields.ItwasbecomingimpossiblefortheStandardtocontrolproductiontokeeppriceshigh.Competingproducers—GulfOilandtheTexasCompany—werespringingtolifeevenasthemonopolycameunderincreasingfirefromProgressivereformers
determinedtobreakupthetrust.Rockefellerhimselfwasdistractedbythegovernmentprosecutionandequallybyhisattemptstorepairhisreputationbybecomingaphilanthropist.
Thepressurewasontheoldpresidenttodosomething.
ThustheBakupush.
—
BillMattersapproachedwhite-hairedAverellComstock,achartermemberofthe“gang”whooftenprofitedfromprivatedeals.“Ihaveaschemeforajointadventure.”
“Whatsortofscheme?”“Aprivatepartnership
withyouandMr.RockefellertopersuadetheRussiangovernmenttoletStandardOilbuildnew,modernrefineriesandrefurbishthe
oldonesownedbyRothschildandNobel.”
Comstockwasimmediatelysuspicious.
“Wheredidyougetthatidea,Bill?It’sasifyoureadourminds.”
Mattersfelthisspiritssoar.Hehadguessedrightaboutalotofthings.
Heansweredmodestly,“I’manoldwildcatdriller.Goodatguessing.Besides,Irecallthatin’03Mr.
RockefellerconsideredropinginSt.PetersburgbankstobuyBakuoilfields.”
“Areyousureyouhaven’tbeeneavesdroppingontelephonecalls?”
“Quitesure,Mr.Comstock.”AccordingtoClydeLapham,thiswasnotthefirsttimeRockefellerhadsetsightsontheCaucasus.Backin’98,StandardOilsentgeologiststosurveyforcommercialoilreservesin
Azerbaijan.“Ortappingwires?”“Iwouldn’tknowhowto
begintotapwires,”Matterslied.
“Whatelsehaveyou‘guessed’?”
Matterstookhisbestshot.“WhatifIweretoproposetoyouaplantobeatSirMarcusSamuelatshippingcaseoiltoAsia?”
Comstockglared.So-calledcaseoilwaskerosene
shippedingallontinspackedinwoodenboxes.TheAsianmarketwasenormous.ChineseandIndiansburnedtheoilintheirlampsandusedthewoodandtintobuildtheirhuts,shingletheirroofs,makecookingpotsandpitchers.SirMarcusSamuel,theall-powerfulEnglishdistributorofcaseoiltoIndiaandChina,hadvisitedtheseofficesingreatsecrecyin1901tonegotiatesomesort
ofpartnership.MatterswasgamblingthatRockefellerandComstockwishedtheirtalkshadpannedout.
“Mr.Rockefellerprefersknowingtoguessing,”saidComstock.
BillMattersstoodhisground.“Iamnotguessing.”
Comstockwasscornful.“LetmeremindyouthatStandardOilhasnotmanagedtobeatSamuelinfifteenyears.Theconniving
EnglishmanparlayedpreferentialtreatmentfromtheSuezCanalintothebiggesttanksteamerfleettoAsia.”
“IknowhowtobeatSamuel,”BillMattersshotback.
“How?”“BypasstheSuezCanal.”“BypasstheSuez?”
Comstockturnedmorescornful.“Haveyouanyideahowlongittakesatankship
tosteamaroundAfrica?Whydoyousupposetheydugacanal?”
“BypasstheTranscaucasusRailroad,too,”Mattersshotback.“AndBatum.AndtheBlackSea.AndtheDardanelles,Constantinople,andtheMediterranean.”
“Poppycock!HowthedevilcouldweshipkerosenetoIndiaandChina?”
“Buildapipelinefrom
BakutothePersianGulf.”“Apipeline?...”
Comstock’sfacewasamask.Buthiseyesgrewbusy.“Tooambitious.Persiaismountainousandbedeviledbywarlordsandrevolutionaries.”
“NomoreambitiousthanourpipelinesacrossPennsylvania’smountainstotheAtlanticseaboard,”Mattersanswered,choosinghiswordscarefully.Hishated
rivalshadneverbuiltaninchofpipeline,themselves,butstolenhis.
Comstockshookhishead.“GreatBritainwillfightaRussianlinktotheGulfeveryinchoftheway.”
“Don’tyouthinkStandardOilshouldfightbackforhalftheoilintheworldandallthemarketsofAsia?”
Comstock’sfaceremainedamask.Eventually,heclosedhishandsinadoublefistand
gazedatMattersoverhisinterlockedknuckles.“WereMr.Rockefellertoapproveapipeline,hemightinviteyoutojoinasajuniorpartnerintheenterprise.”
AverellComstockwouldofcoursebeafullpartner.Mattershadbracedhimselftopretendhumbleacquiescenceandhesaid,“Iwouldbedeeplyhonored.”
Infact,hewasthrilled—notforajuniorpartnership
butfortheaccesshewouldgaintothepresident.Comstockmayhavehisdoubts,buthealsosensedthatthepipelinewasaboldideathatRockefellerwouldseizeupon.Inwhichcase,Comstockfearedtheideawouldgettothepresidentfromsomeoneelseunlesshemovedquickly.
Mattersremindedhimselfnottogetcocky.OlderStandardOildirectors,who
jealouslyguardedtheirpower,werethesmartestinAmericanindustry.TherewerewisemenamongthemwhomightintuitMatters’plot,mightguessthatforBillMattersthepipelinewasonlythebeginning.
AstheassassinhadproclaimedaftershootingSpikeHopewell,thosewhogettooclosewillbekilled.
—BillMatterssummonedtheassassintohisprivaterailcar.
“Word’scomefromTexasthatC.C.Gustafsondidnotdie.”
“I’mnotsurprised.Hewasquickaslightning.Istruckhimtwice,butneithershotfeltright.”
“Whathappened?”“Fateintervened,”the
assassinsaidblithely,but,unabletoabideadeepsenseoffailure,addedinavoicesuddenlydark,“Iammortified...Ipromiseyouthatsuchafailurewillneveragainoccur.Never.”
“Don’tworryaboutGustafson.Theeffectoftheattackisthesameasifhehaddied.They’llblameStandardOil.”
Theassassin’sspiritscontinuedtofall.“Ihave
promisedmyselfonmymother’sgravethatIwillnevermissagain.Never.”
Matterssaid,“Ineedsomethingnewfromyou.Somethingquitedifferent.”
Theassassinleanedcloser,intrigued.“Howdifferent?”
“Someoldonesmustdie.”“Comstock?”“Yes.He’sbringingmy
pipelineschemetoRockefeller.Afterhedoes,I
needhimoutofmyway.”“AndoldLapham?”“No,notLapham.”“GodknowswhatClyde
Laphamremembers,”theassassinwarneddarkly.“Butwhateverhedoesrememberwillbetoomuch.”
“Notyet!IneedLapham.”“O.K.OnlyComstock.
Forthemoment.Whatisdifferent?”
“Hisdeathmustappeartobenatural.Nosniping.No
suspicionofmurder.”“Milesaheadofyou,”the
assassincrowed—spiritssoaringassuddenlyhighasaskyrocket—andwhippedoutofavestpocketaredvial.
—FromHumble,Texas,WaltHatfieldwiredIsaacBellattheWashingtonfieldoffice.
C.C.GUSTAFSONVEXEDSTANDARD
WINGEDNOTDEADYETSHERIFF’SSUSPECTDEAD
IsaacBellracedtoCentralStation.TheWashington&SouthwesternLimitedwasfullybooked,butapassgivenhimbyaprepschoolclassmate’srailroadpresidentfathergotBellintoaseatreservedforfriendsofthecompany.Everyone,theconductortoldhim,seemed
tobegoingtoTexas.Inthesmoker,hedranka
ManhattancocktailthatwasexactlythecolorofEdnaMatters’fine,wispyhair.AndfromwhathehadglimpsedofNellie,herstoo.HeorderedanotherandraisedtheglasstosaluteThomasJefferson’sMonticello,whichthetrainpassedbyinthedyingdaylight.Heateagrilledrockfishinthediningcar,andsleptinaPullman
PalacesleeperthattheLimitedpickedupinDanville,Virginia.
Twenty-sevenhourslater,aVanDornapprenticefromtheNewOrleansfieldofficeranintoUnionTerminalwithanotherwirefromTexasWalt.
SHERIFF’SDEADSUSPECTCLEAREDC.C.GUSTAFSONAWAKE
H9
ummbuuulll,Texas!”bawledtheconductor.“Humble,
Texas!Nextstop,Humble,Texas!”
IsaacBellwasfirstatthevestibuledoor,aheadofacrowdofexcitedspeculatorsjostlingbehindhim.Thestill-
speedingtrainleanedintoahardbendinthetracks,andheglimpsedsomethingthatmadehimopenthecorridorwindowtoleanoutinthehumidheat.Hesawhundredsofoilderrickssurroundedbygiantcrudestoragetanks.Asprawlingboomtownoffresh-builtbarracks,boardinghouses,hotels,saloons,anda“ragtown”sectionoftentscrowdedbothsidesofthemainlinetracks.
Thesidingsandrailyardswereblackwithrowsoftankcars.
ButwhathadcaughttheVanDorndetective’seyewasfloatinginthesmoke-stainedskyabovethetown—NellieMatters’yellowballoonwiththeblockletteringonthebulgeofthegasenvelopethatreadVOTESFORWOMEN.Wherehadshecomefrom?Bellwondered.Moretothepoint,hadherbeautifulsister
Ednacomewithher?Thegroundshook
suddenlyattheverymomenttheSunsetExpresspulledintothemakeshiftstationwithclangingbellandhissingairbrakes.ThetrackstrembledandthePullmancarsrattledandeveryoneonthetrainrantothewindows.Afountainofoilspewedfromthetopofaderrick.Thefountainrapidlythickened.Thunderingoutoftheearth,
theeruptionblewthederricktosplintersandprojectedskywardnearlyashighasNellieMatters’balloon.
Bellgavetheroaringspouteranditsgreasybrownsprayawideberth,judgingthewindbythedirectionNellie’sballoonwastuggingtheropethattethereditabovethefairground.Mostofthatdustyfieldhadbeenturnedintoa“ragtown”takenupbytents.Inthesmallopenspace
thatremained,fiftywomeninwhitesummerdresseswerewavingEQUALSUFFRAGELEAGUESOFHOUSTONANDHUMBLEbannersatNellie’sballoon.
BellhurriedpastthefairgroundandcutdownMainStreetandintotheTopplingDerrick,theboomtown’sbiggestsaloon.WaitingaspromisedatthebarwasTexasWaltHatfield,atall,wiry,sun-blastedman
withtwinColtsix-shootersholsteredinlow-slunggunbeltsandabroad-brimmedJ.B.Stetsonhat.Besidehimstoodafeisty-lookinggentwithhisarminaslingandhisneckswathedinbandages.Hisfaceworethepallorofrecentshock,buthiseyeswerebright.
“Howdy,Isaac,”saidHatfield,shakinghandsascasuallyasiftheyhadlastworkedtogetheryesterday
insteadofayearago.“Thishere’sMr.C.C.Gustafson.”
“CraigGustafson,”saidthepublisher,thrustingouthisgoodhand.
“IsaacBell.Congratulationsonbeingalive.”
C.C.GustafsonprovedtobeasphilosophicalonthesubjectofgettingshotasanyBellhadmet.“Mylittlenewspaperisjustaflynippingatthehideof
StandardOil.Factis,I’mflatteredtheybotheredtoswatme.”
Bellasked,“Dowehavereasontobelievethat’swhoshotyou?”
“Idon’tknowforsurethisistrue,butIhaveavaguememoryforminginmymindthatIwastoldthataStandardOilRefineryPolicechiefarrivedonthetrainthedaybefore.ThatwouldhavebeenTuesday.Igotshoton
Wednesday.”“Canyourecallanylocal
enemieshereintownyoumighthaveprovoked?”
“Ihaven’tstolenanyhorsesandIhaven’tburnedanychurches,andIcanalsoeliminateangryhusbands,sinceIdon’trunaroundonmywife.”
IsaacBellglancedatthebarbed-wire-lean,hawk-nosedTexasWaltforconfirmation.
ThenormallylaconicformerRangersurprisedhimbydrawlingthelongestsentenceBellhadeverheardhimspeak:“AhhadthepleasureofmeetingJanetSue—thatistosay,Mrs.C.C.Gustafson—atthehospital,andAhcanreportthatthereain’tamaninTexaswhowouldentertainnotionsofrunningaroundonsuchalady.”
“IhaveirritatedStandard
Oilforyears,”saidGustafson,“andcurrentlycanclaimsomepartoftheeffortintheTexasStateHousetobanthemonopolisticvulturesfromdoingbusinessinourstate.”
Bellasked,“Whatdoyourememberoftheshooting?”
“Notaheckofalot,asIwasjusttellingWalt.It’scomingback,butslow.”
“Mr.Gustafsononlywokeupyesterdaymorning,”
HatfieldtoldBell.“I’msurprisedtheylet
yououtofthehospitalsosoon.”
“Mywifehasatheorythathospitalskillpeople,beingfullofsickpeoplewithinfections.ShemarchedmehomethesecondIcouldwalk.”
BellturnedtoHatfield.“Who’sthedeadsuspectthesheriffcleared?”
“Foundfacedownontop
ofaSpringfield’03withhisneckbusted.”
“Asifhefellwhilerunningtoescape?”
“Untilfriendsremarkedthathewasnearblindwithouthisglasses,whichhadgotbustedthatmorninginapokertabledispute.”
“Didyoumanagealookattherifle?”
Hatfieldsaid,“Thesheriffcooperated.Theriflesmelledrecentlyfired.Fourrounds
stillinthemagazine,whichholdsfive.”
“Telescope?”“Nope.”“Maybethat’swhythe
assassinmissed.”Bellturnedbacktothenewspaperpublisher.
“Canyoutellmewhatyouremember?”
“Thewindowbroke.Iwassettingtypeformyeditorialbythelightofthewindow.Allatonce,theglass
shattered.”“Whathappenednext?”“I’mafraidmyansweris
notgoingtohelpyou,DetectiveBell.WhathappenednextwasIwokeupinastrangebedwithmywifeholdingacoolclothtomybrow.Lookedaround.Waltwasstandingnearbywithhishandsonhisgunsasiftodiscourageadditionalpotshots.”
Bellasked,“Wouldyou
feeluptovisitingyournewspaper?”
“IwasheadingtherewhenWaltsuggestedwehaveasnort,andthenyouwalkedin.”
TheywalkedthelongwaytotheHumbleClarion,takingbackstreetsandalleystoskirtthemobcollectedaroundthegusher.Theriggerswerestrugglingtocapthenewwell,whileditchdiggersexcavatedacatchbasinto
containtheoilthatwasrainingdownlikeamonsoon.Thetrainhadgone.Mostofthemenaboardithadstayed.
TheClarionoccupiedthefirstfloorofacornerbuilding.C.C.Gustafsonledthemintothecomposingroomwherehesettype.“Itwasthatwindow,”hesaid.“Mywifereplacedtheglass,andfinishedsettingtheeditorialforme.Afterpickingupallthetypethatwent
flying.”Belllookedforbullet
holesinthewalls.Heremarkedthattheofficehadbeenfreshlypainted.
“JanetSuecleanedupthemesssoonasthesheriffwasdonelookingthingsover.”
“DidMrs.Gustafsonhappentomentionhowmanybulletholessheplasteredbeforepainting?”
“Shetoldmethree.”BelllookedtoHatfield.
“HowmanyroundshadbeenfiredfromtheSpringfieldthesherifffound?”
“One.”IsaacBellstoodinthe
window.Itfrontedonthesidestreet.Acrossthestreetwasaframebuildingunderconstruction.Carpentersbuildingtheplatformwerehammeringfloorboardsontoground-floorjoists.Theotherwise-openlotallowedalongviewoverlow-lying
neighborstothetallfalsefrontthattoppedthetwo-storyTopplingDerricksaloononthefarsideofMainStreetthreeblocksaway.
—AverellComstockwalkedataremarkablybriskpaceforamanhisagethanks,hewasquicktoboast,toaregimenhehadstartedwhenhefirstcametoNewYorktwenty
yearsago.Hewalkedeverymidmorningfromtheofficeat26BroadwaytotheEastRiver,wherehecouldorderoystersshuckedfreshofftheboat.Heignoredtheketchupandcrackers,preferringthebrinytasteofthebivalvesunadulterated,andleavingroomforcoffeeandcakefromafoodstallonFultonStreet,wherehehadfallenhalfinlovewithamiddle-agedwidowwhohadahard
facesoftenedbybeautifulblueeyes.
Shestirredinthesugarforhim.Justthisweekshehadbeguntoinsistonrefillinghiscupatnocharge,stirringinmoresugarwithaprettysmile.Whatwouldshethink,Comstockwondered,ifshelearnedthattheoldmanintheancientcoatwastenthousandtimesricherthananycustomershehadeverserved?
“Howareyoufeeling?”sheasked.
“Alittleundertheweather.”Forseveraldayshehadfeltnotquitehimself.
“Ithoughtyoulookedpale.Ihopeyou’venotbeeneatingoysters.Theysaythere’styphoidfever.”
“IeatonlythosefromStatenIsland,”hesaid.“It’stheJamaicaBayoystersthatcarrythetyphoid.”
“Well,Ihopeyoufeel
better.”“Wellenoughtowalk
downhere,”hesaid.“That’sallIask.”
Hedrainedthesecondcupandhurriedoff.“Backtothesaltmines.Seeyoutomorrow.”
Mrs.McCloudputanothersugarbowlonthecounterandhidtheonefromwhichshehadsweetenedtheoldman’scoffee.
“Makesureyouwashthe
spoon.”Mrs.McCloudlookedup.
Themanintheold-fashionedfrockcoatandfancytrilbyhatwasback,furtiveandcold-eyedasasteererwhosendsclientstoashysterlawyer.
“What’sinit?”sheasked.“Whatdoyoucare?”SheglancedupFultonfor
anotherglimpseofthetalloldman’stophatbobbingslowlythroughthecrowdthatthrongedthesidewalk.A
streetcarblockedherview.“Icouldn’tcareless.”
Headingbacktotheoffice,AverellComstockwassurprisedwhenhehadtostopandresthalfwaythere,paleandtrembling.
—IsaacBellandTexasWaltHatfieldlookedfortheassassin’sshootinghideontheroofbehindtheToppling
Derricksaloon’sfalsefront.Theyagreedthatthesightlineswerethere,aneasyshotthreehundredyardstotheClarion’ssidewindow.Withtheroarofdrinkersbelowcelebratingnewriches,itwasdoubtfulanyoneinthesaloonwouldhearashot,muchlessdoanythingaboutit.Nootherbuildinglookeddownontheroof,ensuringprivacyandtimetodrawabeadandwait.
Bellwalkedtheperimeter.
Theroofslopedslightlytoallowrainwatertospilloffintoagutter.Hesawagoldenglintinthegutter,kneltdown,pulledfromthegritandhardenedsedimentthatlinedthewoodentroughanemptycartridgeshell.
“Awildcat,”saidBell,showingittoHatfield.Astandardfactory-madeSavage.303brasscasehadbeenreshapedtoaccommodatecustomized
powderandbulletloadsforgreaterrangeandimpact.
“Man’sloadinghisown,”saidHatfield.
“I’dexpectthatforhisaccuracy,”saidBell.Agreatmarksman,whichtheassassinsurelywas,wouldusetheso-calledwildcatinconjunctionwithafinelymachinedchamberandacustom-madebarrel.“ButI’msurprisedhedidn’tscoopitupbeforeheran.It’saheckofatelltale.”
“Maybeheknewhemissed,”saidHatfield.“Gotrattled.”
“Maybe...Odd,though.The.303ismadefortheSavage99.”
“Fineweapon.Thoughamitelight.”
“Iwonderwhyheusessuchalightgun.That1903Springfieldwouldbemoreaccurate.”
“Butheavier.”“HiskillinKansaswas
nearlysevenhundredyards.”“Amanlookslikea
flyspeckatthatrange.”“That’swhyIassumeda
Springfield.”“Doyousupposehe’sa
littlefeller?”Hatfieldwondered.
“Toosmalltoholdamoreaccurateheavygun?MightexplainwhyhehastoimprovetheSavagecartridge.Probablysmithedhisrifletoafarewell,too.”Bellpocketed
thecartridge.“O.K.Let’sseewherehewent.”
HatfieldhadbeenraisedbyComancheIndiansandwasanexperttracker.Prowlingthetarroof,hespottedaminuteimprintofthecornerofabootheel,andfounditrepeatedseveralyardsintoanalley.Step-by-step,markbybarelydecipherablemark,incrustedmud,oil-soakedearth,anddriedmanure,theyfollowed
thesniper’sescaperoutedownalleysandoverarailroadtrackandintoastable’scorral,wheretheylostthetrailinhoofprints.
“Mounteduphereandrodeoff.”
Thestablehandswerevaquerostoooldandlametoquittheirjobstogetrichintheoilfields.WaltHatfieldaddressedtheminSpanishandtranslatedforBell.Twomenhadleftquicklyon
horsestheyhadboardedinthestableandhadorderedsaddledupanhourearlier.
“Twomen?”“Onebig,onelittle.”“Weretheycarrying
rifles?”“Noguns.”
—Humble’shotelswerejam-packed,andtheroominghouseswerestifling,but
TexasWalthadrustledupcleanroomsaboveastable.Theysluicedoffthedustofthelong,hotdayinhorsetroughsandheadedbacktotheTopplingDerrickwhere,earlier,Bellhadtippedgenerouslytoguaranteeatableforsupper.
Theypassedthefairgroundontheway.Thesuffragistrallyhaddispersed,andacrowdoftheoilfieldhandscampingtherewas
carousingundertarpaulinsthatshelteredaboard-on-barrelssaloon.Offtooneside,Bellspottedafamiliar-lookingwalltentpitchedbesideabuckboardwagon.Ablackironpotwassuspendedoveracookfire.
“Walt,youmaybediningalone.”
Drawingnearthetent,heheardhertypewriterclattering.Heknockedonthepost.Shekepttypinglikea
Gatlinggun.Butthecanvasflewopenandoutsteppedaslimyoungwomanwithshort,wispychestnuthair,brighteyes,andabrightersmile.Hervoicerang.
“Ifyou’renotIsaacBell,mysister’sfameddescriptivepowershavedesertedher.”
Shethrustoutherhand.“NellieMatters.I’vebeen
lookingforwardtomeetingyou.”
Bellswepthishatoffhis
head,tookherdelicatefingersinhis,andsteppedclose.WhenhehadseenNelliethroughbinoculars,hehadthoughtofherfeaturesaslessfinethanhersister’s.Butwithonlyinchesbetweenthem,herresemblancetoEdnawasstronger.Shehadthesamegray-greeneyes,thesamesilkenhair,thesamebeautifulnose.Allthatseemedmagnifiedwereherexpressiveeyebrowsand
fullerlips.“Iwashopingyouwould
returntoearth,”hesaid.“Onlybriefly.”Thetypingstopped.Edna
called,“Invitehimtosupper.”
“Doeshelikevarmintstew?”
“It’snotvarmintstew.It’sjackrabbit.”
“Ilovejackrabbit,”saidBell.“Oneofyoumustbequiteashot.”
Nellielaughed.“Notexactly.Ednablastedthemwithher.410.We’llbecrackingteethonbuckshot.”
Ednaemergedfromthetent,andBell’sfirstthoughtwasthatNelliewasgorgeous,anutterlybeautifulwoman,buttherewassomethingaboutEdna—herstillnessandhersteadygaze—thatblockedthebreathinhisthroat.
Shesaid,“We’llchewcarefully.Howareyou,Mr.
Bell?”“Happytoseeyou.What
bringsyoutoHumble?”“Samethingthatbrought
you,I’dimagine.C.C.Gustafson.”
“AreyoureportingfortheDerrick?”
Shedidnotanswerdirectly,sayinginsteadthatC.C.Gustafsonwasagoodfriendandanimportantsourceforherresearch.
Nellieaskedwhetherhe
wasinvestigatingtheshooting.
“Mr.Gustafsondoesn’tremembermuch.”
Ednasaid,“Hismemoryisreturning.HetoldmethatthedaybeforehewasshothehadheardthatBigPeteStraubarrivedonthetrain.”
Nellielaughed.“Mr.Bell,youreallyoughttohiremysistertoassistinyourinvestigation.”
Bellkepttohimselfthat
Gustafsonhadalreadytoldhimthatandsaid,“IreckonEdna’stoobusy—andfartooexpensive—butwhatanicecoincidenceyoufindyourselvesheretogether.”
“Weoftentraveltogether,”saidNellie.“Particularlytoplaceslikethiswhereawoman’sbetteroffnotalone.”Anodindicatedthetarpaulinsaloon,wherethemenweregettingloud.“Twowomenare
somewhatmoreformidablethanonegirlonherown,don’tyouthink?”
“Justaskthosejackrabbits.”
“Willyoustaytosupper?”“Letmerunandfind
somewine.”“InHumble?Goodluck.”Bellgrinned.“Whatdo
youpreferwithjackrabbit?”Ednagrinned.“Achilled
Riesling,wouldn’tyousay,Nellie?”
NellietossedIsaacBellasecondchallenge.“Onahotnightwithajackrabbitandahandsomegentleman,I’minamoodforchampagne!”
“I’llberightback,”saidBell.
“Whereareyougoing?”theychorusedafterhim.“Houston?”
“NewOrleans!”Bellcalledoverhisshoulderandkeptgoing.
“Don’tbelate.”
BellwentstraighttotheTopplingDerrickandaskedWaltHatfield,“Whichdidyousaywasthehighest-classsportinghouseintown?”
“Thingsdidn’tworkoutwiththeladyreporter?”
“Iaskedyouaquestion.”“Easydoesit,oldson.
Justjoshin’you.TheFrenchQuarterwastheoneImentioned.Aroundthecornerandoveracoupleofstreets.”
BellfoundtheFrench
Quarter’skitchendoordownanalleyandslippedthecooktwotwenty-dollargoldpieces.HereturnedtoEdna’stentwithawhiskeykegunderhisarm.Thebarrelheadhadbeenremoved.Thesisterspeeredin.
“Ice?Wheredidyougetice?”
Bellsaid,“Forgiveme,Edna,butRieslingprovedimpossible.WillyousettleforaChablis?”
Ednasaid,“Iamdevastated.ButI’llsettleforChablis.Justthisonce.”
“Whataboutme?”Nelliecried.“Where’smychampagne?”
“Moët&Chandon?”“Areyouserious?”Bellpulleddripping
bottlesfromtheice.Nelliesaid,“Edna,oneof
usshouldgrabthisfellowbeforehegetsaway.Youarequitetheprovider,Mr.Bell.”
“Here’smysuggestion,”saidBell.“FirstwesharechampagneandsavetheChablisforthejackrabbit.”
“Butwehavenochampagneglasses.”
“Tincupswilldo,”saidEdna.
“Noneed,”calledafamiliarvoice,andaroundthetentstrodeArchieAbbottwithfourchampagneflutesinhishand.
“Whereinblazesdidyou
comefrom?”askedBell.“TrainfromHouston,”
saidArchie,smilingattheladies.“Inthenickoftime.Sawyouluggingabarrelofice,puttwoandtwotogether,andquicklygotglasses.MissHock,lovelytoseeyouagain.Andyou,MissMatters,ofcourse,arethefamousflyingorator.”
HebowedoverNellie’shand.“Whatatreattoobserveyouwithoutgettinga
crickinmyneck.”“Willyoujoinusfor
supper,Mr.Abbott?”Bellsaid,“Don’tyouhave
anappointmentwithawitness,Mr.Abbott?”
“Notonanemptystomach.”
“Thatwouldbetoocruel,”saidNellie.“Youmustlethimhaveabitefirst,Mr.Bell.”
“Rabbitfirst,”saidEdna.“Witnesslater.”
Thechampagnelasteduntilnightwasfallinganditwasnearlydark.
“IfyouboyswillopentheChablis,NellieandIwillladleouttherabbit.”
Thesistersgatheredaroundthefire.Bellgottoworkonthewinebottle.
“Twolovelies!”Archiesaidinalowvoice.“Count’em,two.Beautiful,intelligent,charming,accomplished,andsingle.An
abundanceofriches.”“Handsoff,”saidBell.“I
haven’tmademymindupyet.”
“Fearnot,Ma-maisvettingprospectivefiancées.”
TheAbbottsofNewYorkhadlosttheirmoneybackinthePanicof’93.Archiewassupposedlyonahunttoreplenishthetreasury,butBelldoubteditwouldhappen.Hewasmorelikelytofallinlove,andmoneywouldbethe
lastthingonhismind.“Funny,”saidArchie,
“howtheykeepturningupwhereveryou’reinvestigating.”
“Intelligent,”saidBell.“Asyousaid.”
“Comeandgetit!”criedNellie.
“Don’tmindifwedo,”bawledaloudvoiceattheedgeofthefirelight.
Sixorsevendrunkcowhandsandoilworkers
hadwanderedoverfromtheboard-on-barrelssaloon.
“Youmeanthefoodorthegals?”yelledarangyrigger.
“Both!”howledacowboy.IsaacBellandArchie
Abbottstoodup.“Goodevening,
gentlemen,”saidArchie.“Goaway.”
“Makeme.”Archietookalightning
stepforwardandthrewanevenfasterlefthook.The
riggertumbledbackwardintohisfriends.WhentheypouncedatArchie,Bellwasreadywithahardrightthatdroppedthecowboyandaleftcrossforaburlyroustabout.
Thefourdrunksstillstandingwerequicklyjoinedbyfourmore.
Thetwodetectivesstoodshouldertoshoulder.Archiemuttered,“AnymoreandI’mpullingagun.”
“Toomanyfolksaroundforgunplay,”saidBell.
“Bloodyhell,you’rerightaboutthat.”
NellieMatterslaughed.“Goaway!Ourheartsarespokenfor.”
IfNellie’sjokewasdesignedtodefangthemob,thoughtBell,ithadtheoppositeeffect.Sheseemedoblivioustothedanger.ButEdna,Bellnoticed,wascoollyeyeingthetentflaps
behindwhichwasproppedhershotgun.
Hesaid,“Let’stake’em,Archie.”
Archiesaid,“You’reon.”
—Thetrickwastopreventbeingmobbedbyaconcertedrush.
TheVanDornsusedtheirlongreachandprizeringfootworktokeepthematbay,
dartingin,droppingthreemoremenwithpowerhousepunches,andbackinglightlyaway.ItlookedasiffiveorsixstillstandingwerereconsideringtheirfuturewhenanenormousoilhandeasilyasbigasBigPeteStraublumberedup.
“Whowantsitfirst?”“Startwithme,”saidIsaac
Bell,flashingforward,fakingaleftjab,andthrowingaroundhouserightthatflung
theoilhandflatonhisback.Butashardashehittheground,itseemedtohavenoeffect.Thegiantshookhisheadlikeadrayhorseannoyedbyafly,sprangtohisfeet,andcharged.Belltookhismeasure,spottedhisfistsrise,whichexposedhissolarplexus,andlinedupastraightleftthatwouldtakeadvantageofthemomentum.
Suddenlythemanclutchedhischest.
HelurchedatBellasifshovedfrombehindbyamightyforce.TheburstofunnaturalspeedcaughtBellunaware.Beforethetalldetectivecouldthrowapunchorsidestepthecharge,thegiantslammedintohim.
Threehundredpounds’deadweightdroveIsaacBelltotheground.
Hotliquidsplashedhisface.
Rabbitstew,hethoughtin
acrazytenthofasecondendedbyarifleshot.Heheardasecondshot.Leadwhistled.Amuzzleflashlitthenight,andthesniper’sthirdshotclangedoffEdna’scookpot.
“Down!”heyelled.ArchiesweptNellieand
Ednaofftheirfeet.Bellleveredoutfromunderthegiant.Themandidnottrytoholdhimbutfloppedoverwithhischestspoutinga
fountainofheartbloodthatglitteredinthefirelight.
ThedyingbrawlerhadjumpedintothepathofabulletmeantforBell.
T10
akeoffyourshoe,”saidtheassassin.
BigPeteStraubglareddowntheriflebarrelaimedathisheadandweighedhischancesofwrappinghismittsaroundtheneckofthismanwhohadplayedhimforasucker.Not
good.Slowly,heunlacedhis
boot,bidinghistime,gatheringhisenormousframeforanoverwhelmingrush,figuringtotakeabulletoreventwobeforehecrushedthelifeoutofhim.
“Andyoursock.”Straubtuggedoffadirty
sockandreachedforhisotherboot.Barefeet?Why?
“Leaveiton.One’senough.”
“Whatin—”“Putyourhandsbehind
yourback.Laydownonthem.Allyourweight.Closeyoureyes.Tight!Squeeze’emtight!”
“IsthisbecauseImissed?IwouldhavehitBellifyouletmeusemyowngun.”
“Iknewyouwouldmiss.”“Thenwhy—”“Openyourmouth.”“What—”Theassassinshovedthe
riflebetweenBigPete’steethandtouchedthemuzzletotheroofofhismouth.BigPetefeltitticklethesensitivemembrane.
—“Ahdon’tenvyHumble’ssheriff,”drawledTexasWaltHatfield.
TexasWaltandArchieAbbottandIsaacBellwerewolfingdowntheToppling
Derrick’sblueplatespecialbreakfastoffriedfatbackandeggs.
“Ahmeaneverytimethemanturnsaround,someone’sshot,andwhoeverdoestheshootinggetscleanaway.Dumblucklastnight,onlyonedeadwithallthatleadflying,andthankfullynoneoftheladies.Goodluckforyou,though,Isaac.”
“Lookout!”Aflickerofmotioninthe
cornerofIsaacBell’seyeexplodedintoarockshatteringthewindow.BellshovedArchie.TherockmissedAbbott’saristocraticnosebyahalfinchandbrokethecoffeecupTexasWaltwasliftingtohislips.
Thedrunkwhohadthrowntherock—amiddle-aged,unshavencowhandintatteredshirtandbiblessoveralls,andonebootpeelingoffitssole—stoodswayingin
themiddleofMainStreet.HistruculentexpressionfrozeinastonishmentwhenthreetallVanDorndetectivesboiledouttheswingingdoorswithgunsdrawn.IsaacBellcoveredthesidewalktotheirleftwithhisautomaticpistol.ArchieAbbottguardedtheirrightwithacityslicker’ssnub-nosedrevolverinonehandandablackjackintheother.
TexasWaltstalkedinto
thestreetandleveledtwolong-barrelSmith&Wessonsattherockthrower’sface.Hisvoicewascold,hiseyescolder.“Youwanttoexplainwhyyouruinedmybreakfast?”
Thedrunktrembled.“LookslikeIbitoffmorethanIcanchew.”
“WhatinSamHillareyoutalkingabout?”
“Didyoureadthenote?”“Note?Whatnote?”
“Thisnote,”saidIsaacBell,whohadpickeduptherockonhiswayoutthedoor.Heslidathrowingknifefromhisboot,cutthetwinethattiedasheetofpaperaroundtherock,spreadthepaper,andreadit.
“Whogaveyouthis?”“Fellerwithfivebucks.”“Whatdidhelooklike?”“Big.”“Beard?Mustache?”“Nope.”
“Whatcolorhair?”“Yeller.”TexasWaltinterruptedto
ask,“Doyouwantmetoshoothim,Isaac?”
“Holdonaminute.Whendidthefellowgivethisnote?”
“Coupleofhoursago.Iguess.”
“Why’dyouwaittothrowit?”
“ThoughtI’dhaveasnortfirst.”
“Gotanymoneyleft?”
“Nope.”“Here.Getyourself
somethingtoeat.”Bellshovedagoldpieceinhisdirtypalmandwentbacktobreakfast.ArchieandWaltfollowed.
“Why’dyougivethatsorryfoolmoney?”askedWalt.
“Hedidusabigfavor.”“Favor?Spilledcoffeeall
overmybestshirt.”“Thehostlersatthestable
saw‘twomen.’Remember?”“Whattwomen?”asked
Archie.“Mountedupandrodeoff
aftertheyshotGustafson,”saidHatfield.“Whatfavor,Isaac?”
“Whenhisrockbrokethewindow,Irealizedwhythereweretwomen.OnefiredfirsttobreakthewindowtogivethesniperaclearshotatMr.Gustafson.”
“Hemissedanyhow.
Twice.”“OnlybecauseMr.
Gustafsonhaslightning-fastreflexes.Mostmenwouldhavestoodgapingatthewindow.Butitrepeatsapattern.”
“Whatpattern?”“BigPete–typeassistance.
InKansasheusedhimtothrowoffthescent.Hereheusedhimtoclearhisshot.I’lllayevenmoneyheusedhim,too,whenheshotAlbertHill
inCoffeyvilleandRiggsatFortScott.”
“Whatdoesthenotesay?”askedArchie.
IsaacBellreaditaloud:“‘You’llfindmeattheI-Bar-O.Comeandgetmeifyou’remanenough.’”
“Someone’sbeenreadingtoomanydimenovels,”saidTexasWalt.“Why’sheannouncingaheadoftimehe’sgoingtobushwhackus?”
“Theatrical,”Bellagreed.
“Badtheater,”saidArchie.
BellspokewiththesaloonkeeperwhotoldhimthattheI-Bar-OranchwasnorthofHumbleonabendoftheSanJacintoRiver.“That’stheoldOwensplace.Don’tknowwhoyou’llfindlivingthere.Heardtheypulledupstakes.”
“We’regettingsetupforawild-goosechase,”saidHatfield.“Longrideonahot
day.”Bellsaid,“Gethorses,
saddlebags,andWinchesters.PickmeupatMike’sHardware.”
TwentyminuteslaterArchieandWalttrottedtheirhorsesuptothegleaming-new,three-storybrickMike’sWholesaleandRetailHardwareCompanyleadingabigsorrelforBell.Bellhandedthemslingshotsfromagunnysackandswunginto
thesaddle.“Youbeenchewing
locoweed,Isaac?Ifitain’tawild-goosechase,themanhasarifle.Sodoeshissidekick.”
Bellreacheddeeperinhissackandtossedthemboxedmatchesandhalfsticksofdynamitewithshortfuses.“Incasethey’rebarricaded.”
Winchestersintheirscabbards,TNTintheirsaddlebags,theVanDorn
detectivesheadedoutataquicktrot.Theyrodesixorsevenmiles,perspiringinthethick,humidheat,passingseveralcattleoutfitsthathadgonebust.TherewasashortageofcowhandsinEastTexas,Waltexplained.Youngmenflockedtotheoilfields.
TheI-Bar-Oappearedtobeanotheroftheabandonedranches.
Nosmokerosefromthe
cookhouse,andthepaddockswereempty.
TheVanDornsspreadout,dismounted,andapproachedcautiously,gunsdrawn,eyesrakingwindows,doorways,androoftops.Themainhouse,alow-slungsingle-storyaffair,wasdeserted.Sowasthecookhouse—stovecold,larderdrapedinspiderwebs,flypapercrustedwithdried-upinsects.Theonlyanimals
leftinthebarnswerehungrycats.
Theyconvergedonthebunkhouse,aflimsybuildingwithanoft-patchedroof,afewsmallwindows,andanarrowveranda.Archieforgedaheadontotheverandaandreachedforthedoor.
“Wait.”IsaacBellpointedataclot
ofmudontheverandastepsandmotionedArchiefrom
thedoor.Theredheadpressedhisbacktothewallandpeeredinthenearestwindow.“Manonthefloor.Can’tquitesee.He’sgotariflebesidehim,buthe’snotholdingit...Infact,ifhe’snotdead,hesureisn’tmoving.”
Archiereachedagainforthedoor.
“Don’t!”chorusedBellandWalt.NeitherquestionedArchie’scourage,buthis
judgmentwasnotseasonedtotheirliking.Hehadcomelatetothedetectiveline—personallyrecruitedbyBell,onthefirstcasethatMr.VanDornhadallowedhimtoformhisownsquad.AsMr.VanDornputitmorethanonce,“It’samiraclehowaProtestantNewYorkbluebloodcangethisIrishupasfastasArchibaldAngellAbbottIV.”
“It’sO.K.,”saidArchie.
“He’saloneandhe’sdead.”WaltHatfieldcockedboth
hispistols.“Archie,ifyoutouchthatdoorknob,I’llshootyou.”
“Shootme?”“Topreventyoufrom
killingyourself.StandasideandletIsaacshowyouhowwedoitinTexas.”
IsaacBellgesturedWalttotakecover,boundedontoandacrosstheveranda,shoulderedArchieaside,
jammedhisspinetothewall,andrammedhisriflebackwardtosmashthedooropenwiththebutt.
Theblastittriggeredshooktheearth.
A11
swathofbuckshotwideastwomenscreeched
throughthedoorwayandsplinteredbothsidesofthejamb.IsaacBellhurledhimselfintothebunkhousebeforetheassassincouldreload.
Cavernousten-gauge
shotgunbarrelsstaredhimrocksteadyintheface.Hedivedsideways,hitthefloorwithacrash,androlledintoacrouchbeforeherealizedthattheshotgunwaslashedtightlytoapost.
Earsringing,BellloweredhisWinchesterandlookedaround.
Ahorseshoedangledfromarafter.Itwasswingingonastringthatloopedoverseveralnailsanddowntothe
shotgun’striggers.Openingthedoorhadbumpedthehorseshoeoffanail.Itsweighthadfetcheduptheslackinthestringandjerkedthetriggers,firingbothbarrelssimultaneously.
BigPeteStraublayonhisbackonthebunkhousefloor.Hisrightfootwasbare.Fliesweredartinginandoutofaraggedthree-inchholeinthetopofhishead.Withoneshoeoffandoneshoeon,the
refinerypolicechiefhadkilledhimselfbyputtinghisriflebarrelinhismouthandpushingthetriggerwithhistoe.
“Somuchforyourassistancepattern,Isaac,”saidHatfield.“Themanwentoutalonewithabang.”
“Almosttookuswithhim,”saidArchie.
“Aboutthat‘almost,’Archie?”saidHatfield,cockinganeyebrowthat
demandedananswer.“Thankyou,Walt.Thank
you,Isaac.”“Youcanthankusby
rememberingthatcriminalsdothedamnedestthings.”
BellwasalreadykneelingbyStraub’sgun.“Savage99.”
Hatfieldsnappedaspentshelloffthefloor.“Anotherwildcat.”
Thesleek,hammerlessSavagefeltremarkablylight
inBell’shands.Henoticedanextensionontheforeendofthechamber,asifaquarter-inchpieceofmetalhadbeenaddedtoit.Ametalslideunderthewoodenendreleasedit,revealingtheundersideofthebarrel.Asquarestudprojectedfromit.Thewoodhadacorrespondinghole.Bellfittedthewoodtothebarrel,heldthechamberintheotherhand,andtwistedfirmly.The
barrel,whichheexpectedtobecompression-screwedintothechamber,rotatedaneasyquarterturnandpulledloose.Hewassuddenlyholdingtwoseparateparts,eachbarelytwentyincheslong,shortenoughtoconcealinasatchel,asamplecase,oraninnocent-lookingcarpetbag.
“Walt,didyoueverseeabreakdownSavage99?”
“Ahdon’tbelievethecompanymakesone.”
“Someonemadethisonewithaninterruptedscrew.”
Bellputitbacktogetherbyinsertingthebarrelintothechamberandturningaquarterturn.Ametalslideunderneathfitintoacorrespondingslot,lockingthebarrelinplace.Thankstotheinterruptedthreads—aninventionthathadmadepossiblethequick-sealingcannonbreech—theriflecouldbebrokendownor
reassembledintwoseconds.Butthequestionremained
whysuchalightweaponforamanasbigasStraub?
“Notelescope.”“Holestappedfor
mountingone?”askedWalt.Bellinspectedthetopof
theframe.“Mountingholestapped...YoushouldhaveseenhisshotinKansas.Archiesawit.”
“Betterpartofahalfamile,”saidArchie.
Waltsaid,“Mr.Straubmusthavehadhawkeyes.”
TheSpringfield’03thatthesheriffhadfoundunderthedeadmaninaHumblealleywasfedammunitionbyaremovablestraightmagazine.TheSavagehadarotarymagazine.Theindicatoronthesideofthechamberread“4.”Bellextractedoneoftherounds.Insteadoffactory-maderoundnoses,thebottleneck
cartridgeshadbeenspeciallyloadedwithpointed,aerodynamic“spitzer”bullets.
SomethingabouttheweaponfeltwrongtoBell.Heunscrewedthebarrelagain,rethreadeditinasecond,slidthewoodenforeendbackinplace,lockingtheentireassembly.Thenhecarriedthegunoutside.Thesorrelhadwanderedclose.Hetieditsreinstotheveranda
railingincaseshotsspookedtheanimal,tookabeadonafencepostaquartermileaway,andfireduntilthemagazinewasempty.
Herodethehorsetothetargetandrodeback.
“Hitanything?”Waltasked.
“Deadcentertwice,grazedittwice.It’sagoodgun...Butit’shardtobelieveit’sthegunthatkilledSpikeHopewell.”
“Unless,”Hatfieldgrinned,“Mr.Straubwasabettershot.”
“Doubtit.”Archiesaid,“Butwe
foundacustom-madeSavageshell.”
TexasWaltsaid,“Listenclose,Archie.IsaacdidnotsaythatSpikeHopewellwasn’tkilledbyaSavage99.Allhe’ssayingishedon’treckonthisparticularSavage99didthedeed.”
—“Telegram,Mr.Bell.”
Belltippedtheboytwobitsandreadtheurgentwirehehadbeenhopingfor.JosephVanDornhadoutdonehimselfinhisconstantefforttominimizeexpensesbyreducinghismessagetoasingleword:
NOW
BelltoldArchieAbbotttofollowhimwhenhewasdonehelpingHatfieldandsprintedtothestation.HebarelymadetheSunsetExpresstoNewOrleans,wherehetransferredtotheNewYorkLimited.
Hesettledintoawritingdeskintheclubcarandwascomposingareportfromhisnotebookwhenwomen’svoiceschorusedlikemusicinhisear:“Fancymeetingyouhere,Mr.Bell.”
EdnaandNellieMatterswereheadedtoWashington,whereNelliewastoaddressasuffragistdelegationpetitioningCongress.Herballoonwasfoldedupintheexpresscar.WhenthesisterssaidtheyweresleepinginupperandlowerPullmanberths,Bellgavethemhisstateroom.
Ednaprotested.Nelliethankedhimwarmly.“Howcanwerepayyou?”
“Joinmethiseveninginthediningcar.”
Atdinner,Nellieentertainedhim,andthesurroundingtables,withtalesofrunawayballoons.Edna,whohadclearlyhearditallbefore,listenedpolitelyasNellierattledon.“Sideways,thewindblowsyouintotreesandtelegraphwires.Lowongas,youfallfromthesky.Emergency!Quick!Emergencygas!—”
“Excuseme,younglady,”aclergymaninterruptedfromthetableacrosstheaisle.“Icouldnothelpbutoverhear.Wheredoyoufindemergencygaswhenyou’realreadyflyingintheair?”
“Ihavespecialsteelcontainersinstalledinmybasket,”Nellieanswered.“Lotsofballoonsdo.It’sveryhandyhavingextrahydrogen.”
“Theymustbeheavy.”
“Theybeatfalling,”shedismissedhimandturnedhergreeneyesbackonBell.“WherewasI?Oh,yes.Tooquick,toomuchemergencygas,yousoartoohighandsuffocate.Theairgetssothin,yourunoutofoxygen...”
OvertheNeapolitanicecreamdessert,BellechoedArchie’searliercomment.“Strangehowthethreeofuskeepturninguptogetherwherecrimeshaveoccurred.”
Ednareplied,“I’mbeginningtosuspectyou,Mr.Bell.”
Nellielaughed.“Isuspectedhimfromthestart.”
“MayIaskyousomething?”
NelliegrinnedatEdna.“Doesn’thelooksuddenlyserious?”
“Likeadetective,”saidEdna.“Goon,weshouldn’tbeteasingyou.”
“Atleastuntilhe’spaid
thedinnercheck,”saidNellie.“Actually,youreallydolooksolemn.Whatisit?”
“SpikeHopewelltoldmethatyourbrotherranoffandyouneverheardfromhim.Isthattrue?”
Theirmoodchangedinaninstant.Nellielookedaway.Ednanodded.“Yes.Actually,hewasaYaleman,likeyou.”
“Really?Whatclass?”“Youwereprobably
severalyearsaheadofhim.”
“Hedidn’tgobackafterhisfreshmanyear,”saidNellie.
“Perhapsyouknewhim?”saidEdna.
“Idon’trecallanyonenamedMatters.”
“HisnamewasBillyHock.”
“BillyHock?”Belllookedathercuriously.
“Yes,”saidEdna.“Hewasmyolderbrother.”
“Andmyolderhalf
brother,”saidNellie.IsaacBellsaid,“Inever
madetheconnection.”“Wedid,”saidEdna.“Or
wewondered.Doyouremembernow?”
Bellnodded,recallingaslender,eager-to-pleaseyoungster,moreaboythanaman.“Well,yes,Iknewhim,slightly...”
BillyHockhadbig,brightgray-greeneyesasbrightasEdna’sandNellie’s.“He
enrolledasafreshmanmysenioryear.Hewasveryyoung,youngestoftheboysentering.”
“Fifteen.Hewassmall.Undersized.”
Nelliesaid,“Hetriedoutforcrew.Hewouldhavemadeaperfectcoxswain,beingsolight.Buthewasterrifiedofwater.Healwayshadaphobiaaboutit.”
“Thecrewrowersraggedhimmercilessly,”saidEdna.
Bellnodded.“Untilsome
upperclassmansteppedinandputastoptoit.”
“Yes.”“Wewonderedhow.”“Hecouldnotabide
bullies,”saidBell.“Oneboyagainstateam?”
askedNellie.“Hetrainedatboxing.”Ednadirectedherlevel
gazeintoBell’seyes.“WhenIwatchedyouand
Archieboxingthosemen,Isuddenlywonderedwasityouwhostoodupforourbrother.Wasn’tit?”
“Ihadn’trealizedtheconnectionuntilthisverymoment.Thedifferentname.Wedidn’tdiscussourfamiliesatcollege—unlessourpeoplewererelated—youmustrememberwhenyouwentofftocollegehowwewereallsogladtobeawayfromhomeatthatage.”
Bothwomennodded.“SoBillyHockwasthe
brotherwhoranaway?Strange...Iwonderedatschoolhowhewouldfare.Whendidhego?”
“Thatsamesummer,rightafterhisfreshmanyear,”saidEdna.
“Hewasadventurous,”saidNellie.“Justlikeme—alwaysrunningaroundandtryingnewthings.”
“Weneverheardfrom
himagain,”saidEdna.Nelliesaid,“SometimesI
blamemyself.Ibecameakindofmodelforhim,eventhoughIwasyounger.Hesawmerunningaround—onesecondIwasentrancedbyballoons,thenIwastryingtobeanactress,thenIranofftobeanacrobatinthecircus—remember,Edna?”
“IrememberFatherlaughingwhentheringmasterwalkedyouhome.”
“Onawhitehorse!HesaidIwastooyoung.Isaid,‘O.K.,takemehomeonawhitehorse!’...Andhedid...IgaveBillycourage.Ionlyhopeitdidn’tpushhimtowardtheArmy.”
“No,itdidn’t,”Ednasaid,layingareassuringhandonhersister’sarm.“Ifanything,itgavehimcouragetogoawaytoYale.Father,”sheexplained,turningtoBell,“sowantedBillytoattendYale
becausemany‘OilPrinces’wenttocollegethere—Comstock’sson,Lapham’sson,Atkinson’snephews.”
“BillyandItalkedaboutjoiningtheArmy.TheSpanishwarwasbrewing—thepaperswerefullofit—andboysweresigningup.”Bellhadtried,caughtupintheexcitement,buthisfather,aCivilWarveteran,hadintervenedforcefully,arguingwithunassailablelogicthat
therewerebettercausestodieforthan“awarstartedbynewspaperstosellnewspapers.”
Ednasaid,“WeguessthatBillyenlistedunderanassumedname.Liedabouthisage.WefearhewaslosteitherintheswampsofCubaorthePhilippinejungle.Weneverheard.Ifhedidjoin,hemusthavechangedhisnameandliedabouthisfamily.”
“Butwedon’treallyknow
whathappened,”saidNellie.“Exceptthatitnearlydestroyedourpoorfather.”
—“Youcutitclose,”saidJosephVanDorn.
IsaacBellliftedhisgoldwatchfromhispocket,sprangthelid,andletVanDornreadthedial.ThenheshookhisheadatthelatestadditiontotheBoss’sWillardHotel
office,amodern,glass-casedtableclockfromParis.“YourO’Keenanelectric,importedatuntoldexpense,isrunningfifty-sevensecondsfast.”
“Sitdown,”saidVanDorn.“He’sinmyprivatewaitingroom.Butbraceyourself.Thepoordevillostallhishairtosomedisease.”
“Alopeciatotalis.”“Evenhiseyebrowsand
mustache.Ihadalookthroughthepeephole.He’s
smoothasacueball.”“Don’tworry,”saidBell,
“it’snotcatching...Now,sir,weneedaplan.”
Theyspokefortwominutes,VanDorndubious,Bellpreparedwithpersuasiveanswers.Whenthetalldetectivehadprevailed,theBossmurmuredintoavoicetubeandhisvisitorwasusheredinfromtheprivateentrance.
M12r.Rockefeller.”
Theretiredpresidentofthe
StandardOilCorporationwasatall,sixty-six-year-old,two-hundred-poundman.Hehadpiercingeyesthatburnedinanenormoushairlesshead,anicilyquietmanner,anda
powerfulpresencethatremindedIsaacBellofthelong-reigningheavyweightchampionJimJeffries.
JohnD.RockefellershookhandswithJosephVanDornandnoddedtoBellwhenVanDornintroducedhimas“mytopinvestigator.”Herefusedachairandgotstraighttothepoint.
“AnassassinisdiscreditingStandardOilbyattackingenemiesofthetrust.
Thepublic,inclinedtobelievetheworst,gossipsthatStandardOilisbehindtheattacks.”
“It’sthepriceforhittingthebigtime,”VanDornsaidsympathetically.“Yougetblamedforeverything.”
“Thisoutcryagainstusiswrong.Thepubliccannotseemtounderstandthatwearenotmonsters.Wearemerelyefficient—enormouslymoreefficientthanour
competitors.OilisnotthebiggestbusinessinAmerica.Coalisbigger.Railroadsarebigger.Steelisbigger.Yet,weowncoal.Wecontrolrailroads.Weownsteel.Why?Notbecausewe’remonsters,butbecausetheyarechaotic,embroiledinmurderousrivalry,eachconductinghisownbusinessindependentlyoftheotherandinsharpcompetition.Wecooperate.”
VanDornglancedatBell.BellhadbeentheBoss’spersonalapprenticewhenhestartedattheagencystraightoutofcollegeandVanDornhadtaughthimthetradeonChicago’sWestSide—asdangerousacitywardascouldbefoundanywhereinthecountry.LikeApachebraveswhohadstalkedgameandhuntedenemiessidebysidesinceboyhood,theycouldcommunicatewith
signsknownonlytothem.“Yousoundprettysureof
yourself,”saidVanDorn,uncharacteristicallyblunt.
JohnD.Rockefellerfixedhimwithhiscoldgaze.“ThenexttimesomeonetellsyouthatStandardOilisanoctopus,Mr.VanDorn,youmaytellthemformethatthe‘octopus’keepshisbooksstraight,hisinventoryinorder,hisbankaccountspositive,andpayshisdebts
whendue.Heisnothoodwinkedbyalluringprospects.Hekeepshispowderdry.Theoctopusisorganizedanddisciplinedandtherestofthem...theyarenot.”
“Iftheoctopusisreadytogetdowntobrasstacks,”saidVanDorn,“let’stakeupthebusinessofthismeeting.”
“IintendtohiretheVanDornDetectiveAgencytocatchtheassassinandendthe
slander.”“You’retoolate,”said
IsaacBell.“ThemancommittedsuicideinHumble,Texas.”
“Ihaverarelyheardanythingsoridiculous,”saidRockefeller.“Youhaveyourfactswrong.”
—“Notunlessyouknowsomethingthatwedon’t
aboutStandardOilpolicemanBigPeteStraub,”saidBell.
“Ido,”Rockefellersaidblandly.
“Weareallears,”saidVanDorn.
“Mr.Straubsufferedamedicalconditionthedoctorscallfootdrop.Hisnervesweredamagedbyaninjuryhesustainedinthecourseofalabordispute.Thedamage,whichwasirreparable,causedparalysisoftheflexor
muscles.”“Rightfootorleft?”asked
Bell.“Mr.Straubcouldnot
movethetoesofhisrightfoot.Hadhedesiredtotriggerariflewithhistoe,hewouldhavebaredhisotherfoot.”
VanDornscowledasifembarrassedhisdetectivewasfoundlacking.
IsaacBellalmostsmiled.Hefeltoddlyrelieved.ThatlightSavagerifleinthatbig
man’shandsdidnotfeelright.AndtheirattempttopenetrateStandardOilhadjustpaidoffinatotallyunexpectedbonus.
“Didyourrefinerypolicedetectivestellyouthis?”askedVanDorn.
“Straub’ssuperiorsreportedtheconditionwhentheyreadtheaccountsinthenewspapers.Doyouseehowperfectlysillythatverdictofsuicideis?”
“Thankyou,Mr.Rockefeller,Ido,”saidIsaacBell.“Hewasmurdered.Thekillingwasmadetolooklikesuicide.Mr.Straubwasnottheassassin.”
Bellspokecoolly,buthisheadwasspinningwithquestions.Thelightweightgun.Howtoexplainsuchextraordinaryaccuracy?AcircusorWildWestShowperformer,hardlylikely.Hewasgraspingatstraws.The
assassincouldbeanordinary-sizemanwithapenchantfortheSavage99andthemeansandknowledgetohavethefactoryweaponsmithedtosuchadegree,itwascustom-made.LiketheweaponhehadleftwithStraub’sbody.
Rockefellersaid,“VanDorn,IwantyoutostopwastingyourtimewiththeinvestigationinWashingtonandputyourfirm’sfulleffortintocatchingtheassassin.”
IsaacBellandJosephVanDornknewthatBell’sploytoinfiltrateStandardOilhadhookedtheirman.Nowthejobwastoreelinthecageypresident.
VanDornsaid,“Youhaveyourownprivatedetectiveforce.Whydon’tyouputthemtowork?”
“They’renotthemenforthisjob.IwantthebestandI’llpayforit.”
BellandVanDorn
exchangedwhatappearedtobepuzzledglances.“ButwearealreadyinvestigatingyoufortheCorporationsCommission,”VanDornprotested.“AsI’msureyouknow.”
Rockefellersaid,“YouwillrecallmyinstructionsthatIenteryouroffices,unaccompanied,byaprivateentrance.”
JosephVanDorn’sgrandromannosewrinkledasifhe
smelledsomethingunpleasant.
“Mr.Rockefeller,whatdoesyourmethodofarrivalhavetodowithanything?”
“WedonothavetoinformtheCorporationsCommissionthatyou’reworkingforme.”
JosephDorn’smouthtightened.Hisnostrilsflared.Hischeeksturnedredashiswhiskersasheceasedtodrawbreath.Hisvoicetookona
low,steelynotethatleftnodoubtthatwereRockefellerayoungerman,hewoulddraghimdowntheWillardHotel’sgrandstaircasebythescruffofhisneckandthrowhimoutthedoorontoPennsylvaniaAvenue.
“Ihavegivenmywordtomyclient,thecommission.Mywordismybond.Asacredoath.”
“Thisismoreurgent,”saidRockefeller.
VanDornstartedtoretort.IsaacBellinterrupted.
“Weshouldconcentrateontheassassin.Heistheclearandimmediatedanger.”
“No,”saidVanDorn.“Theagencyishonor-boundtodoboth.”
“IagreewithMr.Rockefeller,”Bellsaidstaunchly.“Thiskillerwillmurderagain.Hangingamurdererisfarmoreimportant—andmore
honorable—thanparsingtheintentionsoftheShermanAnti-TrustAct,whichtheSupremeCourtwillprobablyoverturnanyway.”
VanDornclenchedhisfists.“Ifyoufeelsostronglythattheintentionsofashilly-shallyingCongressandavacillatingcourtaremoreimportantthanmyagency’shonor,youarefreetoresignyourpositionandjoinMr.Rockefeller.”
Rockefellerturnedonhisheelandheadedforthedoor.“I’llbeatmyestateinWestchester,NewYork,Mr.Bell,whereyoucancallonme.”
—TheassassinenteredtheWashingtonMonumentcarryingacarpetbagandjoinedagroupofmenandwomenwaitingforthe
elevatortotakethemtothetopofthememorialshaft.Theyreturnedthebrightsmileandheartyhelloexpectedoffellowout-of-townvisitorsandmaderoomwhenthecararrived.Pilotedbyaself-importantoperator,whoseemedtotakepleasureinopeningandclosingthedoorataglacialpace,itclimbedfivehundredfeetintwelveslowminutes,aheart-poundingeternityofgrating
cables,wheels,andrailsmadeevenlongerbytheendlessdinoftouristchatterandthesuddenexclamationsastheyspottedamongthememorialstonesthatdecoratedtheinteriorwallslumpsofrockfromtheirownstates.Itgetseasiereverydaytobeasnob,thoughttheassassin.
Thedooropenedatlasttothesmellofturpentineandpaint.
—Theso-calledLincolnMemorialwasnothingmorethanamudpatch,andClydeLaphamwashavingahardtimeconcentratingonthedo-gooder’sspeech.HiseyekeptwanderingtowardanexposedtreerootthatremindedhimofasnakeslitheringupanAlleghenyriverbank.Theoldmanrememberedthesnake
sovividlyfromhisboyhoodthathecouldsmellthewaterandhearthefliesbuzzingaroundhishead.Hesworehesawitsfasttongueexploringtheairwithexpectantflickers.
“‘TheGreatEmancipator,’”thedo-gooderdronedinhisear.“‘SavioroftheUnion’...Fittingtoriseoppositethemonumenttoourfirstpresident,don’tyouthink,sir?”
“Thatsnake...”“Begyourpardon,Mr.
Lapham?”“Youseethatsnake...”
Lapham’svoicetrailedoffashelostinterestinwhetherthedo-gooderraisingmoneytobuildtheLincolnMemorialcouldseethesnake.Hecouldseethesnake.
Thedo-gooderpointedattheWashingtonMonument.ItwastallerthanaNewYorkCityskyscraper.UnlikeNew
Yorkskyscrapers,itstoodalone.Far,faraway.Andfarbehindit,thedomeoftheCapitolroseintotheskylike...like...hedidn’tcarewhatitwaslike.Buthere,inthemud,thesnake.
HetriedtorememberwhyhewashereinsteadofbackinNewYork.Thedo-gooderwantedmoneyfromtheStandard,andtheboysatNumber26hadgivenhimthejobofridingthetraindownto
WashingtontoreckonifitwasthekindofthingMr.Rockefellerwouldwanttowriteacheckto.Orsotheysaid.Laphamhadhissuspicions.Theyjustwantedhimoutoftheofficesotheycouldcuthimoutofanotherprivatedeal.
“Howmuchmoneyareyoubeggingfor?”
“Begging?MayIquoteMr.Rockefellerhimselfonthesubjectofphilanthropy?
‘Iamproud,’hesaid,‘ofmyabilitytobegmoneyforthegoodofmankind.’”
“Howmuchwouldthisthingcost?”
“Well,sir,ifCongresswon’tact,it’suptopatrioticmenofmeanslikeyourselfandMr.Rockefeller.AsMr.Rockefellerhasundertakentosupportmanyfinecausesinhisretirement—”
“Retirement?”ClydeLaphamsnorted.“Rockefeller
retired?Youmustbekidding...”Hisvoicetrailedoff.Hehadjustrememberedtheyweren’teversupposedtosaythat.Hecorrectedhimself.“Retirement.You’reright.He’sretiring.Retired.Retired.Goddamned-sureretired.”
Thedo-gooder,achurchman,recoiledatthesoundofanoath.
“Howmuchwillthisthingcost?”Laphamrepeated.
“Well...”Thedo-gooderrubbedhishands.“Wouldn’tthatdepend,sir—Mr.Lapham—onthesizeofthemonument?”
“Bigasthatone?”Laphamasked,pointingatthefive-hundred-fifty-five-foot,four-sidedobeliskerectedtothememoryofGeorgeWashington.Hestaredatit.Hiseyefixedonabarelyvisiblesquareholenearthetop.Asthetreerootreminded
himofthesnake,thatsquareholemadehimthinkofawagonridingupthesheerwallofthepillar.Hecouldevenseethehorsespullingitinthepatternsofthemarblebuildingblocks.
“What’sthatupthere?”“Themonument?”asked
theminister,whowasbeginningtorealizethatoldLaphamwasconfused,toputitmildly.Tooconfusedtocontributetohisprivate
LincolnMemorialfund?Orconfusedinawaythatmightembracethefundwithopenarms.
“LetusrememberthatmagnificentedificeowesitsexistencetotheprivateeffortoftheWashingtonMonumentSocietywhengoodmenlikethegoodmenoftheStandardraisedthefundsthatCongressfailedtoprovide.”
“Thatsquarethingnearthetop...Whatthedevilis
that?”“Oh,that’soneofthe
windows.”“Windows?”“Peoplelookingoutthat
windowwillseetheLincolnMemorialrightdownhere.”
“Theybetterhavegoodeyes,”saidLapham.Hehadlostsightofthewagon,buthecouldseeaclearshotstraightfromthatwindowtowherehestood.“That’sthebestpartofamile.”
“WhenAmericansclimbthestairstohonorPresidentWashington,theywillrushbackdownthemtovisittheStandard’sgiftmemorializingPresidentLincoln.”
“Damnedfoolsshouldtaketheelevator.”
—Theassassindetachedfromtheclotoftouristswhentheelevatordooropenedand
theywereshuntedpastacanvascurtaintowardtheobservationwindowsthatfacedeast,south,andnorth.Theassassinslippedbehindthecurtainandputthecarpetbagbeneaththewindowthatfacedwest.Stoutmetalbarshadbeeninstalledinthewindowtostopsuicidesfromlaunchingthemselvesfromit.Theyweresetdeepinthemasonrysixinchesapart.
ThewindowlookedovertheMall,agrass-coveredflatlandthatstretchedalmosttothePotomacRiver.Atthefarend,justbeforetheriver,wasastretchofrawmudwhereaBrooklynminister—inspiredbyapreviousgeneration’sBrooklynAbolitionists—wasattemptingtocollectcontributionstobuildamemorialtoAbrahamLincoln.
Itwasathanklesstaskthat
theLincolnMemorialAssociationhadbeentryingwithnosuccesssince1867.Histargettoday,ClydeLapham,couldpayfortheentirething,beingachartermemberoftheStandardOilGang.Ifhecouldonlyrememberwherehehadlefthischeckbook.
—ClydeLaphamforgotthe
snakeinthemudandforgotthewagonontopoftheWashingtonMonument.Hewasmesmerizednowbythetipoftheobelisk,ashinypointthatwasadifferentcolorthanthemarble.Themarblewasturningdarkerasitwassilhouettedagainstthesettingsun.Butthetipglowedwithanunearthlylight.
Thedo-gooderchurchmanwasrattlingonagain.
Laphaminterrupted.“Explainwhythetipof
theWashingtonMonumentisadifferentcolorthanthebottom?”
“Itismadeofaluminum,”saidthechurchman.
“AreyoubuildingsomethingsimilarforPresidentLincoln?”
I’vesnaggedaliveone,thoughttheminister.IfIcanonlylandhim.
“Wehavenodesignyet,
sir.Congressfailstofundthememorial,sothemoneyhasnotbeenallocatedtopayforanyproposeddesigns,andwon’tbeuntilprivatecitizensstepupandtakecharge.”
Aclosedcarriagepulledupnearby.Twomensteppedoutandwalkedtowardthem.Onecarriedaphysician’smedicalbag.HeaddressedLapham,speakingslowlyandloudly,“Goodafternoon,Mr.Lapham.Howarewefeeling
today?”“Whothedevilareyou?”Totheminister’s
astonishment,theyseizedClydeLaphambyhisarmsandmarchedhimforcefullytowardthecarriage.
Theministerhurriedafterthem.“Youthere!Stop.Whatareyoudoing?”
“I’mhisdoctor.Itistimeforhimtocomehome.”
Theministerwasnotabouttoletthisopportunity
bemarchedaway.“Now,holdon!”
Thedoctorturnedabruptlyandblockedtheminister’spathwhilehiscompanionwalkedLaphamoutofearshot.“Youaredisturbingmypatient.”
“He’snotill.”Thedoctorpulledapistol
fromhisbag.Hepointeditintheminister’sface.“Turnaround.Walkaway.”
“Whereareyoutaking—”
Thedoctorcockedthepistol.Theministerturnedaroundandwalkedaway,headswimming,untilthecarriageclatteredoff.
—Theassassinhaddemandeddoublecanvascurtainstoshieldthemonument’swestwindowjustincasesometouristgotnosy.Sureenough,throughthecurtainscamea
querulousdemand:“What’sgoingoninthere?”
“It’sapainter,”answeredoneoftheArmyprivatesresponsibleforguidingvisitors.“He’smakingpicturesoftheview.”
“Why’shewalledin?”“Sonoonebothershim.”“WhatifIwanttoseeout
thatwindow?”“Comebackanotherday,
sir.”“Seehere!I’mfrom
Virginia.IcameespeciallytoviewVirginiafromthisgreatheight.”
Theassassinwaited.Anewvoice,thesmooth-
talkingsergeantinchargeofthedetailwhohadbeentippedlavishly:“Iinviteyou,sir,toviewMarylandandtheDistrictofColumbiatodayandreturnnextweektodevoteyourfullattentiontoVirginia.Itwillbemypersonalpleasuretoissueyou
afreepasstotheelevator.”Theassassintookawell-
lubricatedcast-ironscrewjackfromthecarpetbagandinserteditsidewaysinthewindow,holdingthebaseagainstonebarandtheloadpadagainsttheotherandrotatingtheleverarmthatturnedtheliftingscrew.Thejackwaspowerfulenoughtoraisethecornerofabarn.Employedsideways,itspreadtheverticalbarsasifthey
weremadeofmacaroni.
—ClydeLapham’scaptorstimedtheirarrivalattheWashingtonMonumenttocoincidewiththeelevator’sfinalascentoftheday.Themanwiththephysician’sbagsteppedaheadtospeakprivatelywiththesoldieratthedoor,palmingagoldpieceintohishandashe
explained,“Theoldgenthasbeenaskingalldaytocomeupandnowthatwe’reherehe’salittleapprehensive.Iwonderifwecouldjustscoothimaboardquickly.Myresidentwilldistracthimuntilwegettothetop...Whoishe?Wealthydonortomyhospital,justasgenerousamanasyou’llevermeet.Atitanofindustry,inhisday...”
Theprivate’snose
wrinkledatthesmellofchloroformonthedoctor’sfrockcoat.Thericholdguywasreelingonhisfeet.Theresidentwasholdingtight.
“Don’tworry,hewon’tcauseanytrouble.He’sjustnervous—itwillmeansomuchtohim.”
Theprivateusheredthemintotheelevatorandwhisperedtotheothertouristsnottotroubletheoldman.
Theylettheothersofffirstand,whennoonesaw,theysteppedbehindthecanvas.
Theassassinpointedatthewindow.Oneofthebarshadsnapped.Theotherwasbent.Therewasplentyofroombetweenthem.Lapham’seyeswererollinginhishead.“What’sthatstink?”
“Chloroform.”“Thoughtso.Whatarewe
doinghere?”
“Flying,”saidtheassassin.Athissignal,thetwomenliftedLaphamoffhisfeetandthrewhimheadfirstoutthewindow.
Startledbythewindrushingpasthishead,ClydeLaphamsoonfoundhisattentionfixedplacidlyonthegraniteblocksracingbylikealonggraytrainofrailroadcars.Hehadalwayslikedtrains.
—InthepassengerhalloftheBaltimore&OhioDepot,thepublictelephoneoperatorsignaledasuccessfullong-distanceconnectiontoNewYork.
Theassassinclosedthedoorofthesoundproofedbooth.
“Ihaveaccomplishedthemission.”
“Mission?”askedBillMatters.“Thisisaweakline.Ican’thearyou.”
“Ihaveaccomplishedthemission.”
“Whatmission?”“WhentheNewYork
papersgetthenews,they’llfloodthestreetswithextras.”
Eventhroughaweakconnection,Mattersheardtheoverblownexuberancethatcouldmeantrouble.“Whatnews?”
“ClydeLaphamleapedtohisdeathfromtheWashingtonMonument.”
“What?”“Asyourequested,his
deathwillseeminnocent.”“No.”“Thepoormanwas
deranged.HejumpedfromthetopoftheWashingtonMonument.”
“No!”“Youcouldtellthathe
planneditalongtime.He
broughtabarnjacktoforceopenthebarswideenoughtoslipthrough.Hearrangedforthewindowtobeblockedofffrompublicview.Heanticipatedeverydetail.Apparently,anartistwaspaintingviewsfortheArmy—theArmyrunsthemonument,youknow.Dementiaisastrangeaffliction,isn’tit?Thatamancouldbesimultaneouslysoconfusedandsoprecise.”
“No!No!No!”“What’swrong?”BillMattersraged.He
clamoredhestillhaduseforLapham.Hehadnotorderedhimkilled.Hewassoangrythatheshoutedthingshecouldnotmean.“Areyouinsane?”
Theassassinhookedtheearpiecebackonthetelephone,paidtheclerkattheoperator’sdesk,andstrolledoutofthestationand
I13
saacBellwalkedacrossEStreet,peeringintoshopwindows,andturned
down7th,whereheproppedabootonahorsetroughandmimedtyinganonexistentshoelace.ThenhecontinuedalongPennsylvaniaAvenue,skirtedtheCapitol,and
turneddownNewJersey.AheadstoodtheBaltimore&OhioDepot.
Theclocktowerwasringinghistrain.
HecollectedatickethehadreservedfortheRoyalBluepassengerfliertoNewYork.Theclerkwarnedthatitwasleavinginfiveminutes.Bellhurriedacrossthestationhall,onlytopullupshortwhenanancientbeggarinrags,atornslouchhat,and
whitebearddeeplyfrostedwithageshuffledintohispathandextendedafilthyhand.
Bellfumbledinhispocket,searchingforacoin.
“Rockefeller’sdetectivesarestillonyourtail,”thebeggarmuttered.
“Skinnygentinafrockcoat,”saidBellwithoutlookingback.“Hetookoverfromatall,widefellowon7thStreet.Anymore?”
JosephVanDornscratchedhispowder-whitenedbeardandpretendedtoextractalouse.“Theyputamanonthetraindressedasapriest.Goodluck,Isaac.You’realmostin.”
“DidtheboysmanagetofollowMr.Rockefeller?”
VanDorn’sproudgrinnearlyundidhisdisguise.
“RightuptothebackdoorofthePersianembassy.”
“Persia?”Ednacalled
Rockefellerthemasteroftheunexpected.Shehadthatright.“WhatdoeshewantwithPersia?”
“Playyourcardsrightandyou’llbeinapositiontofindout.”
BelldroppedacoininVanDorn’shand.“Hereyougo,old-timer.Doyourfriendsafavor,spenditatabathhouse.”
Heshowedhisticketandheadedoutontheplatform,
hurriedthelengthoftheblue-and-goldtrain,peeringthroughthegleamingleaded-glasswindows,andboardedtheRoyalBlue’sfirstcar.Thenheworkedhiswayswiftlythroughthecars.Thelocomotive,arocket-fast,high-wheeledAtlantic4-4-2,whistledthedoubleaheadsignal.
Fourcarsback,hespottedtheStandardOildetectivedressedlikeapriest.He
clampedapowerfulhandaroundhisdogcollar.Thelocomotivehuffedsteam,gentlyforasmoothstart,andthedriversbeganturning.Bellliftedthepriestoutofhisseatbythescruffofhisneck.Passengersstared.Bellmarchedhimoffthetrain.
“TellMr.Rockefellerhe’swastinghismoneyandmytimeshadowingmewithamateurs.”
“Whatareyoutalking
about?”thedetectiveblustered.“Howdareyouassaultamanofthecloth.”
Thetrainwasrolling,thesideofacoachbrushingBell’sshoulder.“Tellthethinmaninthefrockcoatandhisfatfriendinthederbynexttimetheyfollowme,I’llpunchboththeirnoses.”
BellrantocatchupwiththeRoyalBlue.
“Andthatgoesdoublefortheclergy.”
—VoiceswereraisedwhenIsaacBellwalkedintotheclubcarlookingforawell-earnedcocktail.Theloudestbelongedtoared-facedUnitedStatessenatorinadarksacksuit,afloridnecktieofthetypePresidentRooseveltwasmakingpopular,andahawser-thickgoldwatchchaindraped
acrosshisamplebelly.Hewashectoringtheonlywomaninthecar,NellieMatters,whowaswearingawhiteshirt,abroadbeltaroundherslimwaist,astraightskirttoherankles,andaplainstrawhatadornedwitharedribbon.
BellorderedaManhattanandaskedtheperspiringbartender,“Whatisgoingon?”
“Thesuffragettestarted
it.”“Suffragist,”Bell
corrected.“Seemstobeenjoyingherself.”Hereyeswerebright,andshehaddotsofhighcolorinhercheeks.Bellthoughthehadneverseenherquitesoprettybefore.
“Theyweredebatingenfranchisement,hammerandtongs,beforeweevengotrolling.”Thebartenderfilledhisglass.“Wedon’toftensee
aladyintheclubcar,itbeingabastion,shallwesay,of‘manliness.’”
“Thegentsappearwillingtomakeanexceptionforalooker.”
“Butthesenatorprefersanaudiencetoalooker.”
“Yetanotherreasonnottotrustamanwhoenterspolitics,”saidIsaacBell.
Thesenatorloosedablastofindignation.“Ireadinthenewspapers,MissMatters,
youintendedtoflyyourballoonovertheCapitolanddroptorpedoesontheCongress!Andwouldhavedroppedthemifthewindhadnotblownyourballoontheotherway!”
“Imadeaterriblemistake,”saidNellieMatters,herclearvoicecarryingthelengthofthecar.
“Mistake?”“Iforgottoreadthe
weatherreport.Aballoonist
mustalwayskeeptrackofwhichwaythewindblows.”
“Goodlord,woman,youadmityouintendedtobombCongress?”
“Nonsense!”Nellie’seyesflashed.Shetossedherhead,andeverymanintheclubcarleanedintohearheranswer.“Iwouldneverharmasoul—notevenasenator.”Sheturnedandopenedherarmswideasiftotakeeveryoneinthecarintoherconfidence.
“MyonlypurposeinsoaringovertheCongresswastoexposethemembersfortheidiotstheyare.”
Thatdrewchucklesandcatcalls.
IsaacBellraisedhisvoiceinastrongbaritone:“Howcouldflyingyourballoonoversenatorsandcongressmendothat?”
NellieflashedhimasmilethatsaidHello,Mr.Bell,thanksforsettingupmynext
line:“Myballoonsoarsongasorhotair.Ihadnofearofrunningoutofeitherintheirvicinity.”
Thecareruptedinlaughter.Businessmenpoundedtheirpalmspink.Salesmenslappedtheirthighs.Fromeverydirection,dyed-in-the-woolanti-woman-votersviedtobuyheraglassofwine.
“Nothankyou!Idon’tdrink.”ShecastBellaglance
thatclearlysaidExcept,ofcourse,whendiningonjackrabbitinTexas.“But,gentlemen,inlieuofyourglassesofwine,IwillacceptcontributionstotheNewWoman’sFlyover.”
“NewWoman’sFlyover?”“What’sthat?”“TheNewWoman’s
Flyoverisastuntwhenafleetofred,white,andblueballoonsfullofsuffragiststaketotheskytobooman
amendmenttotheConstitutionenfranchisingwomenvoters.”
“Neverheardofit.”“Ijustthoughtitup!And
yougentlemenaregoingtomakethefirstcontributions,aren’tyou?”
“Openyourcarpetbag,MissMatters,”IsaacBellcalled.“I’llpassthehat.”
Hewhippedhishatoffhishead,deftlypalmedthederringerholsteredwithin,
andwalkedthelengthoftheclubcarlikeadeaconuntilitwasbrimfulwithcontributions.Nellieopenedhercarpetbagwide.Bellpouredthemoneyin.
Nelliecalled,“Thankyou,gentlemen!Everysuffragistinthenationwillthankyou,andyourwiveswillwelcomeyouhomewarmly.”
“Anothercoincidentalmeeting?”Bellasked.“Butnocrimethistime.Atleast
noneyet.”“It’snocoincidence.”“Thenhowdowehappen
tobeonthesametrain?”“Iaskedtheclerkatthe
WillardHotelforyourforwardingaddress.TheYaleClubofNewYorkCity.”
“WereyouplanningatriptoNewYork?”
“Idecidedtovisitmyfather.”
“Spur-of-the-moment?”“WheneverIlike,”she
smiledback.Bellsaid,“Iwouldliketo
meetyourfather.”“HowshouldIintroduce
you?”Nellieasked.“Fatherwillnotcottontoaprivatedetectiveinvestigatinghiscorporation.”
“I’mnotonthecommissioncaseanymore.”
“Whynot?”“It’salongstory,”said
Bell.“Wehavetimeforalong
story.It’ssixhourstoNewYork.”
“Let’sjustsayitwon’tbeanofficialvisit,”IsaacBelllied.
Onlypartalie.ThechancetoobserveSpikeHopewell’sformerpartnerinhisownhomewouldbeabsolutelyofficial,butitwouldnotrequiremuchpretensetoactthepartofamanwhodesiredtovisitBillMatters’daughter.Either
daughter.“Whydon’tyouintroduce
measagentlemancaller?”“Fatherwon’tbelieveyou.
HeknowsIamnotthesortofwomanwhositsathomewaitingforgentlemancallers.”
“ThentellhimI’mamanhopingforarideinyourballoon.”
“Youcanrideinmyballoonanytimeyou’llmakeaspeechforwomen’svotes.”
“Actually,Irodeinaballoononce,inthecircus.Isthatwhereyoudiscoveredballoons?Inthecircus?”
“Iprefertheaterstocircuses.They’remorefantastical.”
“Idon’tagree.IranawaytoacircuswhenIwasaboy.”
“Youmusttellmeaboutthecircussometime.”
“Howaboutnow?”“Spur-of-the-moment?”“Whateveryoulike.”
“Iwouldliketoeatdinner,”saidNellieMatters.“I’mhungry,andit’smyturntotakeyou.”
—AtCentralStation,thetwelve-year-oldboyspeddlingtheWashingtonPostLateExtraEditionwereshrillasaflockofjays.
“TouristfallsfromWashingtonMonument.”
“Extra!Extra!Touristfalls!”
ArchieAbbotttossedpenniesforthepaperandrantothehorsecabs.Mr.VanDornhadsentawirecareoftheDanville,Virginia,stationmasterorderinghimtoreporttheinstanthistrainpulledintoWashington.TophandslikeIsaacBelltookdirectsummonsfromtheBossforgranted,butthiswashisfirstoneever.
“WillardHotel.Fastasyoucan.”
Uponarrival,hedashedupthestairsintotheVanDornoffices.
“TheBosswiredmytrainatDanville.Saidtocomerightover.”
Thefrontdeskmanspokecalmlyintoavoicetube.AblaséapprenticewalkedArchieintoJosephVanDorn’soffice.Withhiscoatoffandhissleevesrolledup
hisbulgingforearms,VanDorn,Archiethought,lookedlessthecompanyproprietorthanaprosperousbricklayer.
“Abbott,you’reaPrincetonman.”
“Yes,sir.”“I’vegotsomethingright
upyouralley.”“HowcanIhelp,sir?”VanDornnoddedatthe
extraeditionthatArchiehadtuckedunderhisarm.“The‘tourist’whofellfromthe
memorialshaftwasnotatourist,andIdon’tbelievehefell.Thepapersdon’thaveityet,butitwasClydeLapham.”
“StandardOil?”“Rumorhasit,hejumped.
Ifhedid,Iwanttoknowwhy.Ifhedidn’tjump,Iwanttoknowwhohelpedhimoutthewindow.”
“MayIask,sir,whatmakesyouthinkhedidn’tjump?”
“OurinvestigationhasestablishedthatnotoneoftheStandardOilGanghasaguiltyboneinhisbody.Ontheremotechancethatonewaseverstrickenwithremorse,itwouldn’tbeClydeLapham.Hehadnodoubtthatmakingmoneywashisdivineright.Something’sfishy.That’swhereyoucomein.”
“Yes,sir,”Archiesaid,wonderingwhatithadtodo
withbeingaPrincetongraduate.
“Theywon’tletourmennearthemonument.WereitaNavyfacility,Iwouldhavenotroublegainingaccess.ButIamnotsowellconnectedwiththeArmy,andI’verunhead-onintoasnobofaColonelDanEgan,wholooksdownonprivatedetectivesasnotworthyofhisexaltedfriendship.Doyougetmydrift?”
Archiewassuddenlyonfirmground,withintimateknowledgeofthefinedistinctionsofthesocialorder.“Yes,sir.Armyofficersaremorelikelytobeill-bredandhavechipsontheirshouldersthantheirNavycounterparts.”
“Thisparticularofficeriscarryingachipbiggerthanaredwood.Fortunately,I’velearnedhehasasonattendingPrinceton.I’mbettinghe’llbe
mightilyimpressedbythefactthatyoumatriculated,aswellasbyyourmanner,whichislessthatofaprivatedetectivethanaprivilegedlayabout.NotthatI’msuggestingyoulayabout,necessarily,butIsuspectyoucanactthepart.”
“I’llrehearse,”Archiesaiddrily.
“Youdon’thavetime,”VanDornshotback.“ColonelEganisatthe
monumentrightnow,inthemiddleofthenight,leadingwhattheArmyoptimisticallycallsaninquiry.Getoverthereandsweet-talkyourwayinbeforetheytrampletheevidenceandinsertwordsinthemouthsofwitnesses.”
Archiedoubtedhe’dmakemuchheadwaywalkinguptoafullcolonelandsayinghewenttoPrinceton.Heventured,“Thismightrequiremorethan‘sweettalking,’
Mr.VanDorn.”TheBossstared,hiseyes
suddenlyhard.“Theagencypaysyouhandsomelytodo‘morethansweettalking.’”
“I’lldomybest.”“Seethatyoudo.”
J14
osephVanDornwasstillathisdeskwhenArchiereportedback,
shortlybeforemidnight.“Suicideormurder?”“It’smorecomplicated
thanyoumightexpect,Mr.VanDorn.”
TheglowerVanDorn
leveledathimremindedArchieAbbottofanencounteronsafariwithanEastAfricanrhinoceros.“LetmedecidewhatIexpect.Inaword,‘suicide’or‘murder’?”
“Inaword,”saidArchie,“theArmywas‘hoodwinked.’”
JosephVanDorn,sowinteryamomentearlier,brokeintoadelightedsmile—asArchieknewhewould.BeamingathisoldU.S.
MarineCorpsNCOsword,whichhungfromhiscoattree,theBossasked,“WhatdidtheArmyfallforthistime?”
—IsaacBelldoubtedtherewasroominNellieMatters’excitinglifeforaboyfriend.ShewasgreatcompanyatdinnerintheRoyal’sbeautifuldiningcar,
entertaininghim,andeavesdroppersatnearbytables,withtalesofhersuffragisttravels,balloonmishaps,andrivalrieswithsuffragettes—“thedreadAmandaFaire”—whilespinninglikecottoncandyhernewlyinventedNewWoman’sFlyover.BythetimetheygotoffthetraininJerseyCity,thesuffragist’spublicitystuntdetailswereinplace.Allthatremainedwas
toraisethemoneyforahundredballoons,aprospectshethoughtnotatalldaunting.
ButontherailroadferryacrosstheHudsontoNewYorkCity,Bellsensedasuddenshifttowardtheromantic.Hecreditedthebeautifullightsofthedowntownskyscrapersandthechillwindtheybravedondeck.Hewrappedhisarmaroundhershoulderand
Nelliehuddledclose.Justastheboatlanded,shecurleddeeperinhisarm.“Idon’tusuallymeetmenIlike.Idon’tmeantosaythatIdislikemen.ButIjustdon’tfindmostofthemthatlikeable.DoyouknowwhatImean?”
“No,”saidIsaacBell.“Whatisityoudon’tfindlikeable?”
“Isthatadetectivetraittoalwaysaskquestions?”
“Yes.”“You’reasbadasmy
sisterthereporter.”Ahansomcabwhisked
themacrosstown.Sheheldhishand,and,alltoosoon,thecabpulleduptotheMatterstownhouseinGramercyPark,aquietoasisofaneighborhoodthatpredatedtheCivilWar.JustacrossthenarrowparkwasoneofArchieAbbott’sclubs,ThePlayers.Thecab
clatteredoff.BellwalkedNellietothefrontdoor.Thehousewasmadeofbrickwithgleamingblackshutters.
“Whatahandsomehouse.”
“WemovedupintheworldwiththeStandard,”Nellierepliedassheslippedakeyinthedoor.Shewhirledaroundsuddenlyandfacedhim.“ComebacktomorroweveningtomeetFather.”
“Asaspiringballoonistor
gentlemancaller?”NellieMattersgaveIsaac
Bellherbiggestsmile.“Both.”
Shedisappearedbehindthedoor.
Helingeredonthesidewalk.Hehadtoadmitthathewasmorethanalittledazzledbythevibrantandwittyyoungwoman.
Suddenlyhewasalert,seeingmovementfromthecornerofhiseye.Aslight
figure,awomaninacloak,materializedfromtheshadowsofGramercyPark.Lamplightcrossedherface.
“Edna?”heasked,caughtoffbasebyhowhappyhewastoseeher.
“Iwasjustcominghome,”sheanswered.“Ididn’twanttointerruptyouandNellie.”
Sheseemedupset.“Areyouallright?”EdnaMatterspausedto
considerheranswer.“Not
entirely.Imean,I’minabitofaquandary.”
“Goodorbad?”“IfIknew,itwouldn’tbe
aquandary,wouldit?”“Tellmewhatitis,”said
Bell.“I’mafairhand,sometimes,atsortinggoodfrombad.Comeon,we’lltakeawalk.”
Thehourwaslateandthewell-dressedcouplemighthavedrawntheattentionofthieveswhowouldattemptto
separatethemfromtheirmoney.Thatisuntilacloserinspectionrevealedagentlightonhisfeetandcoldofeye.TheywalkeduntilthelightsgrewbrighteronBroadway,itssidewalkscrowdedwithpeoplebustlinginandoutofhotels,restaurants,andvaudevilletheaters.
“Igrewupwithoilderricks,”Ednasaidsuddenly.“Pipelinesand
breakouttanks.AndafatherbeatenrepeatedlybytheStandard.”
“IsthathowyoucametowritetheHistoryofUnder-handed?”
“DoyouthinkIhadachoice?”
“Idon’tknow,”saidBell.“Nelliedidn’trespondtoyourfather’slossesbybecomingareporter.”
“Wouldn’tyousaythatpursuingjusticeforwomenis
theothersideofthesamecoin?”
“How?”“Oftryingtomakethings
right.”“No,”saidBell.
“Enfranchisementisacause,aworthycause.Writingthetruthismorelikeacalling.Somaybeyou’reright.Maybeyouhadnochoice.”
“You’renotmakingthiseasier.”
“I’msorry,butIdon’t
knowwhatyourquandaryis.Notmakingwhateasier?”
Shefellsilentagain.Belltriedtoreengageher.“WhataboutNellie?Didshetakeyourfather’slossesashardasyoudid?”
Ednathoughtamoment.“NellieloveshimasfiercelyasIdo.Butshewasn’taroundforasmuchofit.She’straveledeversincesheputherteensandpinaforesbehindher.Heretoday,gone
tomorrow.”“Maybeshewastryingto
getawayfromthem.”“Idon’tknow.She’s
alwaysontheroad—andathomewherevershealights.”
“Youtravel,too.”“Likeahermitcrab.I
carrymyhomewithme.NomatterwhereIlandattheendoftheday,I’matmytypewriter.Ithoughtitwastimetostopwriting,mycrusadeover.”
“Isthereapurposetostopyourwriting?”
“IthoughtIwasreadytostop.Butthenewoilstrikesmakeitanewstory.AndnowtheunrestinBakuthreatensshortagesthatcouldupendthepetroleumindustryallovertheworld.ImaginewhatmustbegoingthroughMr.Rockefeller’smindatamomentlikethis.”
“WhatisinBakuforhim?”
“Halftheworld’soil.Andawell-establishedroutetothecustomers.IftheyburntheBakufields,whowillsupplytheRussians’andtheNobels’andtheRothschilds’markets?JDR,that’swho,evenifit’strueheretired,whichIneverbelieved...Listentome!I’mtooobsessedwithJDRtostopreportingonhim.JustwhenIthinkI’mdone,Ilearnsomethingnew.”
“Likewhat?”
“I’veheardrumors—speculation,really—thatRockefelleruseshispubliciststocommunicatesecretlywithhispartners.Theyplantastory.Itgetsprintedandreprintedineverypaperintheworld,andthosewhoknowhiscodegethismessage...Boy!”
Shegavetwopenniestoapassingnewsboyhawkingtheearly-morningeditionoftheSunandscannedthepaperin
theblazingwindowofalobsterpalace.“Here!I’vetracedthisonebacktolastJanuary.It’ssupposedlyaletterhewrotetohisSundayschoolclassfromhisvacationtoFrance.‘Delightfulbreezes.Ienjoywatchingthefishermenwiththeirnetsonthebeach,andgazinguponthesunrisingoverthebeautifulMediterraneanSea.Thedayspasspleasantlyandprofitably.’”
Bellsaid,“Itsoundsperfectlyordinary.Soordinary,youwonderwhythepapersprintit.”
“AnypronouncementtherichestmaninAmericamakesisautomaticallynews.Theychangedetailstokeepituptodate.AfterhereturnedfromEuropetheyaddedtheintroductory‘Irecall,whenIwasinFrance,’etcetera.Recentlytheyadded‘thesunrising.’I’msureit’sa
message.Maybeitdoesn’tmatter—exceptitmight,andIcan’tstopwritingabouthim...”Sheleafedthroughthepaper.“Here’sanotherI’vebeenfollowinginthesocialsections.Icannotforthelifeofmefigureitout,butithastobecode.”Sheread,“‘MonmouthCountyHounds,Lakewood.FirstDragHuntoftheseason.JohnD.Rockefellerinhisautomobilewasinlineatthe
start,butsoondroppedout.’Andthis,supposedlyabouthimplayinggolf.‘StandardOilPresidentRockefellerwasgleefuloverhisfoursomevictory.Dominatedthelinkswithlongsweepingdrives—’Whyareyoustaringatme,Mr.Bell?”
“Youshouldseeyourface.You’reonfire.Congratulations!”
“Forwhat?’”“Anexcellentdecisionnot
toretire.”Suddenlyaraggedchorus
ofyoungvoicespiped,“Extra!Extra!”
GangsofnewsboysgallopedoutoftheTimesbuilding.TheyscatteredupanddownBroadwayandSeventhAvenue,wavingextraeditionsandshoutingthestory.
“RicholdmanjumpsoffWashingtonMonument.”
Bellboughtapaper.He
MONUMENT
andraceddownthecolumnandontothesecondpage.
“Whydoyouthinkhedidit?”askedBell.“Guilt?”
EdnaMattersshookherhead.“ClydeLaphamwouldhavetolookup‘guilt’inthedictionarytogetevenamurkyideaofitsmeaning.”
“Maybehefeltthegovernmentclosingin,”said
Bell,knowingtheVanDorninvestigationhadyettoturnupenoughevidencetopleaseaprosecutor.
“Ifhejumped,”saidEdna,“becausehefeltthegovernmentbreathingdownhisneck,thenhislastlivingthoughtmusthavebeenIshouldhavetakenRockefellerwithme.”ShecuppedBell’scheekinherhand.“Isaac,Imustgohome.Ihavetolookintothis...I
betyoudo,too.”
—AttheYaleClubon44thStreet,whereIsaacBelllodgedwheninNewYork,Matthew,thenighthallporter,usheredhiminside.
“Mr.ForrertelephonedaheadandaskedthatIsliphiminprivatelybytheservicedoor.Iputhiminthelounge.”
Bellboundedupthestairs.TheMainLounge,ahigh-
ceilingedroomofcouchesandarmchairs,wasdesertedatthislatehourbutforthechiefofVanDornResearch,whooccupiedmostofacouch.Forrerworewire-rimmedspectacles,asbefithisstationasascholar.Scholarlyhewas,butaverylargeman,astallasBellandtwiceaswide.Bellhadseenhimdisperseriotersby
strollingamongthem.“TheBossandIhave
beenburningupthewires.Allhell’sbrokenlooseontheCorporationsCommissioncase.”
“IjustreadtheLaphamstory.Doweknowforsurehekilledhimself?”
“No.AllweknowiswhatArchieAbbottlearnedwhenhewormedhiswayintotheofficialinvestigation.Mr.VanDornwasimpressed,
whichheisn’talwayswithArchie.”
“WhatdidArchielearn?”“Someone—ifnot
Lapham,thenpresumablyourassassin—pulledanelaboratefastoneontheArmy,whooperatethemonument.Soelaboratethatitcanonlybecharacterizedasbaroque.”
“‘Baroque’?Whatdoyoumean,baroque?Complicated?”
“Morethancomplicated.
Bizarre.Whimsicalasanelaborateprank,exceptamandied.It’shardtoimaginetheypulleditoff.Hardertoreckonwhytheywenttosuchtroubletokilloneoldman.”
“Howcouldhefitoutthewindow?”askedBell.“TheybarredthemupafterthatlunaticAnti-SaloonLeaguertriedtojumpwithabanner.”
“Thebarswereforcedopenwithabarnjack.”
“Ittakestimetocranka
barnjack.Whydidn’tanyonestophim?”
“Noonesaw.Thewindowonthewesthadbeencordonedofffromtheobservationareawithcanvasdrapestoensuretheprivacyofanartistpaintingtheview.”
“Wherewastheartist?”“Nooneisexactlysure
theyeversawtheartist.Heleftbehindhispaintboxandhiseaselbutnopainting.
AccordingtoArchie,it’snotclearhedidmorethansetuphiseasel.Andbeforeyouaskhisname,itwasverylikelyafalsename.”
“Whatwasit?”“Thisiswherethingsturn
complicated.I’llgettohisnameinamoment.”
“I’vehadaverylongday,Grady.Whatisgoingon?”
“Idon’tknow.OtherthantosaythattheArmy—oratleasttheU.S.Armycolonel
incommandoftheWashingtonMonument,whomArchieinterviewed—gavetheartistpermissiontopainttheviewprivatelybehindcanvascurtainsbecausepermissionwasrequestedasapersonalfavorbyafamousArmysharpshooter.”
H15
ewonthePresident’sMedalin1902.”
IsaacBellsankinhisarmchairtoponderthat.“Inotherwords,he’sthebest.”
“Themostaccuratemarksmanin1902.”
“Theyshootuptoa
thousandyards,”saidBell.“What’shisname?”
“PrivateBillyJones.”“Peoplewhoare
legitimatelynamedJonesandSmithshouldbeissuedspecialidentifyingcardstoprovetheydidn’tmakeitup.”
“PrivateBilly‘Jones’desertedtheFirstRegimentofNewark,NewJerseyNationalGuard,shortlyafterhewonhismedal.”
“WhydidtheArmygive
permissiontopaintinthemonument?Whydidn’ttheyjustarresthim?”
“Hedidn’tasktheentireArmy.Heaskedtheidiotcolonelincommandofthemonument.Mailedhimaletter.Thedamnedfoolhadnotheardthenewsthattheirchampionsharpshooterdeserted.Ithappenedthreeyearsagoandit’slikelytheArmycovereditup,beingembarrassed.”
“NottomentionterrifiedtotellTR,”saidBell.
AsmilelitForrer’ssolemnexpression.“Grimthought,Isaac.Teddyisnotapresidentthatacareerofficerwouldwanttodisappoint.”
“Sonoonesawthebarsjackedopenbehindthecanvaserectedforanartistnoonesaw.Therefore,noonesawwhetheroldLaphamjumpedorwasthrown.”
“Twomenbroughthim
there.Doctors.”“Thenwe’llstartwiththe
doctors.”“Unfortunately,no.”“Nowwhat?”askedBell.“TheArmyhasn’t
informedthepoliceyet,sothenewsreportersdon’tknow,butArchie’sfriendthehalf-witcoloneladmittedthedoctorsvanished,andnooneknowsiftheyreallyweredoctorsormerelycarryingmedicalbags.”
“Furthersuggestingitwasmurder,”saidBell.
ForrerrepeatedasayingBellhadheardfromhimoften:“ThejobofthechiefofVanDornResearchistosortfactfromassumption.”
“Youareprovokingmetowardsarcasm,Grady.Ifitwasn’tmurder,thenthemenpretendingtobedoctorswhodeliveredLaphamtothetopofthemonumentcarriedabarnjackintheirmedicalbag
andleftitwithLapham,whousedittojackopenthebarssohecouldjumpoutthewindow.”
“Seenthatway,itdoessuggestmurder,”Forreradmitted.
“Butlikeyoujustsaid,whygotosomuchtroubletokilloneoldguy?Youcouldpophimontheheadandsayhefelloffhischair...Infact,it’slesscomplicatedthanshowy.”
“Didourassassinusethenameofafamoussharpshooter,gamblingthatthecoloneldidn’tknowhewasadeserter?”
“Orisourassassinthedeserterhimself?He’sprovenhimselfachampionmarksman.”Bellshookhishead.“Itdoesn’tmakesense.Whywouldhedrawsuchattentiontohimselfifhe’sbeensafelydisappearedforthreeyears?”
ItstruckIsaacBellthattheassassin’sremarkableshootingwasmerelyameans.Hehadbeenthinkingabouthimasasniper.Nowhehadtothinkabouthimasamurdererwhowouldusevariousmeanstokill.
“Youweregoingtotellmethesupposedartist’sname.”
Forrernodded.“Atthispoint,itmovesintotherealmofthebizarre.Theartist
calledhimselfIsaacBell.”“What?”“Heknowsyou’re
workingupthecase,Isaac.”IsaacBellstoodoutofhis
chairandstalkedthroughtheemptyloungetothetallwindowsthatoverlookedWest44thStreet.Athinsmileformedonhislips.
“He’scallingyouout!”saidForrer,whohadgrownupintheDeepSouthwherecallingamanoutmeant
parkingyourselfonhisfrontlawnwithaguninyourhanduntilhecameoutshooting.
“Soundsthatway.”Bellstareddownat44thStreet.Carriagesandmotorlimousineswerereturningforthenighttothemanystablesandgaragesontheblock.
Suddenlyhestaredunseeingoutthewindow.“Atlast.”
“Atlastwhat?”Forrerasked.
“Atlasthe’smadeamistake.”
“Thinkinghecantakeyou?”
“That,too.”Thetalldetectiveturned
abruptlyandcrossedthebigroominseveralstrides,hisfacealightwithenergy.“We’refinallygettingsomething.Let’sfindoutwhothischampionreallyis.”
Forrerclimbedoutofhischairandrosetohisfull
height.“I’llgobacktotheoffice.”Hekeptacotthere,andBellknewthatafterashortnaphewoulddiveintohisfiles.Assistantsandapprenticesarrivingforworkearlywouldfindtheirbossdeepinnewspapersandmagazinesandtelegramsfromtheagency’sprivatewires.
Bellwalkedhimdowntothefrontdoor.
“There’ssomethingelseI
wantyoutolookinto.”“What’sthat?”“EdnaMattershasan
interestingtheory.”HetoldhimEdna’stheoryaboutJohnD.Rockefeller’snewspapercode.
Forrerwasintriguedbytheideaoffar-flungRockefelleroperativesreadingthenewspapersforhisinstructions.“Nottomentionthosehundredsof‘correspondents’spyingfor
StandardOilaroundtheworld,readingthepapersandrealizingwhathewantsinformationon.”
“Canyoucrackit?”“Itisn’tonlywhathe
says,”Forrerexplained,“butwhenhesaysit.He’sreferringtothingstheyalreadyknow,tellingthemnowwewait,nowwegetready,nowwemove.”
“CheckyourfilesbacktoJanuarywhenRockefeller
wasinCannes.”“I’llstartearlier.”“Thephraseabout
watchingchildrendigginginthesandappearsonlyinrecentweeks.”
“I’llpayparticularattentiontoit.WhatdoyouwantmetotellMr.VanDorn?”
“Tellhimtheassassinisnotquiteasprofessionalashethinksheis.”
“He’sgoingtoaskme
whatyoumean.I’dliketohaveananswerready.”
“Tellhimtheassassinisashow-off.”
“Whatdoyousupposehe’llmakeofthat?”
“He’llmakeofitwhathetaughtme:Show-offstripthemselvesupwhentheyforgettowatchwherethey’regoing.”
“Andwhereareyougoing,Isaac?”
“Westchester.”
“Toseethegreatman?”“Toseewhatmakeshim
tick...Here’sanotherthoughtforMr.VanDorn.Ifourassassiniswillingtothrowpeopleoutwindowsinsteadofshootingthem,thenhe’sevenlesspredictablethanaprofessionalsniper.”
Theyshookhands.“Waitaminute!Dowe
knowwhyClydeLaphamwasinWashington?”
Forrersaid,“Iassume—”
“IthoughttheResearchDepartmentneverassumes.”
“I’llgetrightonit...Hey,whereareyougoing?”
IsaacBellwasstridingintothestreet,wavingafistfulofmoneyatachauffeurabouttogarageanAcmeOperaLimousine.“Grady!”hecalledoverhisshoulder.“DomeafavorandsendwiresinmynametoNellieMattersandJohnD.Rockefeller.Apologizefor
breakingtomorrow’sappointmentsandaskwoulditbeconvenienttorescheduleforthedayafter.”
“Nowwhereareyougoing?”
“BacktoWashington.”“It’sthemiddleofthe
night.”“I’llmakethe
CongressionalExpress.”Hepaidtheyawningchauffeurtospeedhimtotherailroadferryat42ndStreet.
Theonea.m.expresswasfullybooked.Evenhisrailroadpasscouldn’tgethimaberth.HewhippedouthisVanDornbadgeandsprintedtothefortifiedexpresscarattheheadofthetrain.Therewouldbenoberthwithcrispsheetsthere,either,norevenacomfortablechair.Buttheexpressmessenger,responsibleforjewels,gold,bearerbonds,andbanknotes,wasgladtohavethecompany
ofanotherarmedguard.Bellwaiteduntilthetrainwassafelyrollingatsixtymilesanhour,thenmadehisbedoncanvassacksstuffedwithahundredthousandinNationalBanknotes.Heawakenedtostandwatch,pistoldrawn,atstationstopsinPhiladelphia,Wilmington,andBaltimore.
—“Greekfiresaved
ConstantinoplefromtheArabnavies,Mrs.McCloud.”
ThewidowwhoownedthecoffeestandonFultonStreetwastiedtoakitchenchairwithagaginhermouth.BillMatterswatchedfromthedoorway.
Theassassin,whowasperchedontherimofthebathtubthatsharedthetinyspacewiththechair,atable,andacookstove,loosenedthegagandasked,“Whoelsedid
youtell?”Thewomanwasbrave.
“Wouldn’tyouliketoknow.”“Oh,Iwillknow...
Greekfireburnedonwater.Infact,itcontinuestoburnevenwhenyousplashwateronit.WhichtheinvadingArabsdiscoveredwhenitincineratedtheirships.ItwasmadebyasecretformulaascloselyguardedastheworkingsoftheStandardOilCompany.Therecipeislong
lost.Buteveryguessofitsingredientsincludesnaphtha.”
Theassassinheldupagallontinofnaphtha,afamiliarsolventsoldinhardwarestores,andpunchedholesinthetopwithapocketknife.
“You’llfindnaphthaintheBible,Mrs.McCloud,awordtodescribeburningliquid.It’smentionedintheOldTestament.Thename
meant‘purification.’Assyriansdippedtheirarrowsinnaphthatoshootfireattheirenemies.”
“Youthinkyouscareme?”
Theassassintightenedthegag.
“Todayinourmodern,gentlerage,weusenaphthatocleanclothesanddissolvegreaseandpaint.Butsincetheautobecamepopular,itisespeciallyimportanttogive
gasolineitskick.Haveyoueverseengasolinecatchfire?Imaginetheleapsofflamethatnaphthaproduces.Who,Mrs.McCloud?WhoelsedidyoutellthatIgaveyouthepowderthatyoufedtotheoldman?”
Sheshookherhead.Shewaswatchingthetin,buttherewasstillmorecontemptthanfearinhereyes.
Theassassinupendedthetinandpouredthenaphthaon
herhead,soakingherhairandhershabbyhousedress,thenloosenedthegagandaskedagaininthesamequiet,persistentvoice,“WhoelsedidyoutellthatIgaveyoupowdertoputinMr.Comstock’scoffee?”
TheassassinsignaledthatitwasnowMatters’turn.Steelinghimselftoact,Mattersscrapedakitchenmatchonthecookstove’sgrate.Flameflaredinaburst
ofpungentsmoke.“Whoelse?”“Noone.Iswearit.”“Noonebutthe
messengeryousenttoblackmailme,”saidMatters.
“Ididn’ttellhimeverything.Justenoughtoscareyoutomakeyoupay.”
“Youdidthatallright.”“Whereishe?”sheasked,
eyeslockedontheflame.“Who?Yourblackmail
messenger?Hedied.Afterhe
tolduswheretofindyou.”Mattersturnedtotheassassin,whowaswatchingintently.“Shebelievesme,andnowIbelieveher.”
Mrs.McCloud’sentirebodysaggedwithdespair,andshewhispered,“Myson.”
“Askher,”saidtheassassin,“howshetracedmetoyou.”
BillMatterssaidtoMrs.McCloud,“Youheardthequestion.Whatmadeyou
thinkIwastheonetoblackmail?”
Thewidowsuddenlylookedtwentyyearsolderandhadtearsinhereyes.Shewhispered,“Mysonfollowedtheoldmantohisoffice.Hesawyoutogether.Hesawyoumeeteverydayinatearoom.Likeyouhadsecretsawayfromtheoffice.”
“Yoursonwasagoodguesser.”Totheassassinhesaid,“Ibelieveher.Doyou?”
TheassassinsteppedcloserandstaredintoMrs.McCloud’seyes.
“Sayitagain:Nooneelse.”
“Nooneelse.Iswearit.”“Doyoubelieveher?”
Mattersaskedagain.“Itoldyou,Ibelieveher.”“Allright.”“But,”saidtheassassin,
“shewillneverleaveyouinpeaceuntilshedies.”
BillMattersponderedin
silence.Suddenlyheheardhisownvoicebabblingfoolishness.“Whatcouldshesay?Whowouldbelieveher?”
Theassassinsaid,“TheywilldigComstockupandadministertheMarshtest.Whatdoyousupposetheywillfindinhisremains?”
Mattersshookhishead,thoughheknewofcourse.
“Poudredesuccession!ThatisFrench,youpoorman,
for‘inheritancepowder,’whichisaeuphemismfor‘arsenic.’Inotherwords,theywillhangyouforpoisoningAverellComstock.”
“Iwon’ttellasoul,”saidMrs.McCloud.“Ipromise.”
BillMatterskeptshakinghishead.Hecouldnotabidethewoman’sfear.MaryMcCloud’sscornfulcontempthadunderscoredthedeadlythreatofblackmail.Butherfearpriedopenhisheart.He
didnotdoubtthatmostmenwerehisenemies.Butnotwomen.Twicewidowed,fatherofdaughtersgiventohimbywomenheloved,heheardhimselfwhisperacoward’sconfession.
“Idon’tknowifIcandothis.”
“That’swhatyouhavemefor,”saidtheassassin.
W16henIsaacBellgotbackfromWashington,
D.C.,heborrowedaStanleySteamerfromagoodfriendofArchieAbbott,awell-offNewYorkerwho,asArchieputit,“passedhisdaysinaquiet,blameless,clubable
way.”HedrovenorthofManhattanintoWestchester,passingthroughSpuytenDuyvil,Yonkers,andDobbsFerry.Theroad,pavedwithconcreteinsomesections,asphaltedinothers,graveledhereandthere,andalongafewstretchesstilldirt,passedcountryclubs,prosperousfarms,andtavernscateringtoautomobilistsfromthecity.HearrivedinNorthTarrytowninatrafficjamof
farmwagons,gasolinetrucks,andautosallpackedwithworkmen.
ItwasElectionDay,thetownconstableexplained.Thewagons,trucks,andautoswereferryingthreehundredofJohnD.Rockefeller’sestategardeners,masons,roadbuilders,laborers,andhouseservantstotheNorthTarrytownpollstovoteforRockefeller’schoicesof
trustees.“Willhewin?”Bell
asked.“Healwaysdoes,”said
theconstable,whosurelyowedhisjobtotheincumbents.“But,thisyear,thebutcheriswagingamightycampaign.”
HepointedBellinthedirectionoftheRockefellerestate.Soonthebustleofthetownwasforgotten,dwarfedbyvastbuilding
improvements—gradingnewroads,dammingrivers,digginglakes,erectingstablesandguesthouses,andlayingoutagolfcourse—thatappearedtoabsorbthesurroundingfarmsandentirevillages.Roundingablindbend,hesawanoldtavernthatstoodaloneintheseaofmud.Asignontheroofnamedit
SLEEPYHOLLOW
ROADHOUSE
Ahand-paintedadditionstated
NOTFORSALENOTEVENTOYOU,MR.
PRESIDENT
BellswervedofftheroadandstoppedinfrontwithastronghunchthattheproprietoroftheSleepyHollowRoadhousewouldbemorethanwillingtotellhim
athingortwoaboutRockefeller’slocalactivities.Heorderedaglassofbeerandgotanearful.
“Retired,themanislethal,”saidtheveryangrytavernowner.“IfthenationthinksthatStandardOilisanoctopus,theyshouldseehimoperateinPocanticoHills—where,justsoyouknow,myfamilyloggedandfished,andfarmedthosefieldsacrosstheroad,fortwohundredyears
beforethatsanctimoniouspiratepulledupstakesinClevelandtofoisthimselfonNewYorkand,byextension,oursmallhamlet.”
Minehostpausedforbreath.IsaacBellasked,“Whatmakeshimsanctimonious?”
“He’sateetotaler.ItgallstheheckoutofhimthatI’msellingdrinksrightoutsidehisfrontgate.Heputmycompetitoroutofbusinessby
buyingupeveryhouseinthehamletthatsuppliedhiscustomers.Buthecan’tdothattomebecausemycustomersdrivetheirautosupfromthecitylikeyou.”
“Soit’sastandoff.”“Asmuchasonemancan
standoffagainstanoctopus.Whoknowswhichwayhe’llcomeatmenext.”
“Ishehereoften?”“Toooften.Hereallthe
time,nowthathe’sbuilthis
owngolfcourse.”“Howbigistheestate?”
saidBell.“Threethousandacresand
counting.Themancandrivefordaysonhisownroadsandneverusethesameonetwice.”
IsaacBellfoundthegatesopenandunmanned.Thedrivewaysweptthroughdenseforest,openhayfield,andmowedlawnsasgreenasanyhehadseeninEngland.
Bridlepaths,andcarriageroadsofcrushedslate,crisscrossedthedriveanddisappearedundershadetrees.Clearingsatbendsinthedrivewayofferedsudden,startlingvistasoftheHudsonRiver.
Hepassedstablesandacoachbarn,guestcottages,gardens,bothsunkenandwalled,ateahouse,andaconservatoryunderconstruction,itsgraceful
frameworkawaitingglass.Apowerhousewashiddenbehindastoneoutcroppingwithitschimneydisguisedbyaclumpoftallcedars.Thedriveclimbedagentleslopetoaplateauthatlookedoutontheriverandcircledalargemansionintheearlystageofconstruction.Masonsswarmedonscaffolds,buttressingdeepcellarholeswithstonework.
Bellwaswonderingin
whichoftheolderornewlybuiltsmallerbuildingsRockefelleractuallylivedwhenhenoticedbelowtheplateauacanyon-likecutthroughastonehill.Hedroveintoitalongaflatroadbed.Drillmarksinthevine-tangledstonesides,ballastcrunchingunderhistires,andchunksofcoalglitteringinthesunindicateditwasanoldrailroadcutabandoneddecadesearlier.Heemerged
onthefarsideofthehillbesideaclusterofweatheredcowbarnsthatappearedtobetheremnantsofadairyfarmsubsumedbytheestate.
Sturdypolescarriedstrandsoftelegraph,telephone,andelectricwireintothebiggestbarn.IsaacBellparkedtheSteamerandpressedabuttonatthedoor.Abuzzersoundedinside.
JohnD.Rockefellerhimselfopenedthedoor.He
wasdressedashehadbeenwhenBellsawhimlastinJosephVanDorn’soffice,inelegantlytailoredbroadcloth,wingedcollarandfour-in-handnecktie,asilkhandkerchiefinhisbreastpocketandgoldcufflinks.Hiseyeswerebleak.
“WhatexactlyhappenedtoClydeLapham?”
“YoucananswerthatbetterthanI,”saidBell.
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“TellmewhyyousentClydeLaphamtoWashington.”
“WhatmakesyouthinkIdid?”
“Iknowyoudid.Iwantyoutotellmewhy.”
“HowcouldyoupossiblyknowthatIsentClydeLaphamtoWashington?”
“VanDorndetectivesmakefriendswithlocalcops.”
“Ithoughtyouresigned
yourposition.”“Wordofmyresignation
hasn’treachedmyfriendsintheWashingtonpolice.WhydidyousendClydeLaphamtoWashington?”
“Togivethepoormansomethingtodo.”
“Poorman?”“ClydeLaphamwasthe
brightest,widest-awake,mostprogressivebusinessman.Buthewasbeginningtogodownthehill.Itfinally
becameapparentthathehadhadhisdaybecausehewaslosinghismindtodementia.”
“Whydidyousendhim?”“Youapparentlyknow
already.Whythischarade?”“Idon’tknowifIcantrust
you,sir.Iwanttohearitfromyou.”
Theoldmandidn’tlikehearingthat,andBellhalfexpectedtobeescortedofftheproperty.Instead,Rockefellersaid,“Iasked
ClydeLaphamtodiscussacontributionofmoneytoaministerwhoisraisingfundstobuildamonumenttoPresidentAbrahamLincoln.”
“Thankyou,”saidBell.Foramoment,hedebatedaskingwhyRockefellerpaidasecretvisittothePersianembassy,butthatwoulddefinitelygethimthrownoutonhisear.HehadlearnednothingmoreofitonhisquickreturntoWashington
andhadleftArchieAbbottinchargeofprobinghisfriendsintheStateDepartment.
“Toansweryourquestion,”Bellsaid,“ClydeLaphamwasmurdered.”
Rockefeller’sexpressiondidnotchange,buthisshoulderssaggedperceptibly.Hesteppedback,indicatingBellshouldenter,andwithoutawordledthewaythroughafoyerintoahigh-ceilingeddrawingloft.Draftsmenin
vestsandshirtsleeveswerebentoverdrawingboards,workinginthepureglowofnorth-facingskylights.Bellsawbuildingplansandlandscapedesignstakingshape.Finishedblueprintswerespreadonworktables,wherecivilengineersandarchitectswereguidingforementhroughtheintricaciesofupcomingwork.Rockefellerpausedatatablewhereadraftsmanwas
drawingthesteelframeforastonebridge,tracedalinewithhisfinger,andpolitelyorderedacorrection.
Hecontinueddownahallwayofshutdoors.Notvisibleuntiltheyhadroundedacornerwasadoorwithfrostedglassintheupperpanel.BellfollowedhimthroughitandsawinstantlythatthesupposedlyretiredpresidentofStandardOilwasleadingadoublelifeat
PocanticoHills,activelymanagingvastimprovementsofhisnewestatewhilecontinuingtocommandhisindustrialenterprise.
Thefrosted-glassdooropenedonabusinessofficeasmodernasanyonWallStreet,staffedbysecretariesandbookkeepers,andequippedwithprivatetelegraph,overseascable,telephonelines,andtickertapemachines.Rockefeller
ledBellthroughthedinintohisprivateoffice,closedthedoor,andstoodbehindhisdesk.
“Thatyou’rehere,”hesaid,“tellsmeyou’vecometodowhatIasked:stoptheassassinandendtheslanderofStandardOil.”
Bellsaid,“Iwillconcentrateontheassassinandleavetheslandertoyou.”
“HowdoyouknowthatClydeLaphamwas
murdered?”Bellrelatedtheeventsat
theWashingtonMonumentstep-by-step.
“Byzantine,”saidRockefeller.“Inyourexperience,haveyoueverseenamurderaselaboratelyconceived?”
“Threemurders,”saidBell.
“Three?”Rockefellerblinked.
“Andanattempted
murder.Andanelaborateactofarson.”
“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”
“As‘byzantine,’touseyourword,asthekillingofClydeLaphamwas,itwasmerelyanexaggeratedversionofhisearliercrimes.”HedescribedforRockefellerthedeathsoftheindependentKansasrefinersReedRiggsandAlbertHill,theelaborateandhighlyeffectiveduck-
targetexplosionandburningofSpikeHopewell’srefinery,theattempttoshotgunhim,TexasWalt,andArchieAbbott.Finally,heremindedRockefellerofthefakedsuicideofBigPeteStraub.“Bythoselights,snipingHopewellandC.C.Gustafsonarehisonly‘normal’crimes.”
“Whatmotivatessuchcomplication?”
“Idon’tknowyet,”said
IsaacBell.“Theeffectofthestraightforwardkillingsistheslanderyouwanttostop,theblamingofStandardOil.Thekillingsthatweremaskedasaccidentsdon’tappeartofallintothatcategory.Perhapsthosepeoplewerekilledforotherreasons.”
AsecretaryknockedandenteredandmurmuredinRockefeller’sear.Rockefellerpickedupatelephone,listened,thenputthephone
down,shakinghishead.Hesatsilentawhile,thensaidtoBell,“Myfatherusedtoreadaloudtous.HelikedtheFiresidePoets.Doyouknowthem?”
“Mygrandfatherreadthem,”saidBell.“Longfellow,Whittier,Lowell.”
“LowellwasFather’sfavorite...”Heshookhisheadagain.“I’vejustlearnedthatAverellComstock,oneof
myoldestpartners,isdying...‘ODeath,thoueverroamingshark...’”
RockefellerlookedatBell,hisfathomlesseyessuddenlybrightwithpain.
Bellcompletedthestanzaforhim—“‘...Ingulfmeineternaldark!’”—wonderingwhethertheoldmanremembereditwasfromahumorouspoemaboutaperchwithatoothachewhowashoodwinkedbyalobster.
“Averellbecameawarm,close,personalfriendofmineinthecourseofbusiness.Iwillmisshim.”
“I’msorry,”saidBell.“Hadhebeenill?”
“Briefly.Thepriceofgettingold,Mr.Bell.Mypartnersaredyingrightandleft.MostwereolderthanI...Theygosoquickly.Oneweekago,Comstockwasfullofvimandpush.”
Hestoodup,laidabig
handonthetelephone,andstaredacrossthedeskasiftheroomhadnowallsandhecouldseeallthewaytoNewYorkCity.
“WhenpoorLaphambeganlosinghismind,therewastimetogetusedtotheideathathewouldgo.ButAverellwasatitan.Ifiguredhimforanothertwentyyears.”
He’safraidofdying,thoughtBellandsuddenly
feltsympathyfortheoldman.ButhecouldnotignoretheopportunitytoinvestigatefromevendeeperinsidetheheartofStandardOil.
“Areyouafraidtheassassinwillstrikeatyou?”
“Mostpeoplehateme,”Rockefellerrepliedmatter-of-factly.“Thechancesare,hehatesme,too.”
“Hestrikesmeasprofessional,withoutemotion.”Trueofhis
shooting,thoughtBell.Trueofhisdeep-laidgroundwork.Nottrueofhisimpulsetoshowoff.
“Thenhe’spaidbysomeonewhohatesme,”saidRockefeller.
“Atriggerfingerthatwon’tshakewithpersonalhatredmakeshimallthemoredangerous.”
Rockefellerchangedthesubjectabruptly.“CanIassumethathavingbroken
withtheVanDornAgency,youarefreetotravelonshortnotice?”
“Where?”askedBell.“WhereverIsay.”IsaacBellthrewdowna
boldchallengecalculatedtoimpresstheoiltitan.Ifitworked,thelordlyRockefellermightopenuptohimashewouldtoanequalratherthanalowlydetective.
“Where‘childrendiginthesand’?”
Rockefellerreturnedafathomlessstare.Bellgazedbacknoncommittally,ashewouldinthehighest-stakespokergame—neitheravertinghiseyesnorstaring—whileRockefellerreassessedhim.Hesaidnothing,thoughthesilencebetweenthemstretchedandstretched.Theoldmanspokeatlast.
“Youappeartohavestudiedmyhabits.”
“Aswouldanassassin.”
“Imaygoabroad.”“Baku?”saidBell.Violenceflaredinthe
hoodedeyes.“Youknowtoomuch,Mr.Bell.Areyouaspy?”
“Iamimagininghowanassassinstalksamanofmanysecrets—avictimlikeyou.Bakuisobvious:ThenewspapersarefullofRussia’stroubles,andE.M.Hock’sHistoryoftheOilMonopolycatalogsthe
territoriesinEuropeandAsiathatyou’velosttoRothschildandtheNobelsandSirMarcusSamuel.”
“Areyouaspy?”Rockefellerrepeated.Buthewas,Bellguessed,assessinghimcarefully,andhestrovetoanswerinamannerthatwouldinstillconfidenceandprojectthepictureofavaluableman,seasonedinhiscraft,alert,observant,anddeadlywhenchallenged.A
manJohnD.Rockefellercouldtrusttoguardhislife.
“Idon’thavetobeaspytoknowthat‘thesunrisingoverthebeautifulMediterranean’risesintheeast—RussianoilinBakuandtheChineseandIndianrefinedoilmarketsyou’redeterminedtodominate.IfIwereaspy,Iwouldknowthesecretmeaningof‘childrendigginginthesand.’Idon’t.Buttheassassinhashadmore
timetoinvestigateandprobablydoesknowallaboutchildrendigginginthesand.WouldyoufeelsaferifIaccompanyyouasyourbodyguard?”
“Nameyoursalary.”“Iwon’tworkonsalary.
I’vedecidedtostartmyowndetectiveagency,”saidBell,embellishingtheliehehadconcoctedwithJosephVanDorn.
“Iapplaudyour
initiative,”saidRockefeller.“We’llsendyouacontract.”
IsaacBelldrewaslimenvelopefromhiscoat.“Ibroughtmyown.”
“Presumptuousofyou.”“Notatall.Iammodeling
mybusinessonyours.”“Iamanoldmanand
beyondtheinfluenceofflattery.ButIdowonderhowyouwouldcompareagumshoetoanoilman?”
“E.M.Hockwrotethat
youachievedyourgreatsuccessintheoilbusinessbybeingruthlesslyefficient.IheardwithmyownearsyourboastofefficiencytoMr.VanDorn.Inordertobethebest‘gumshoe’intheprivatedetectivebusiness,Ihadbetterbeefficient.”
Rockefellerrepliedwithoutahintofexpression,andBellcouldnotforthelifeofhimtellifthemanhadasenseofhumor.“You’ll
knowyou’reefficient,DetectiveBell,whentheycallyouamonster.”
Bellsaid,“Iwillmakethetravelarrangements.”
“Ihaveamanwhohandlesthem.”
“Notonthistrip.Iwilldecidethesafestroute.”
Rockefellernoddedagreement.“Ofcourse,noneofthisistoberepeated.IwantnoonetoknowIhavebusinessinBaku.Wemust
travelintheutmostsecrecy.”“Thatwillmakemyjoba
loteasier,”saidBell.“Whendoyouwanttoarrive?”
—AtGrandCentralStation,whichwasbeingsimultaneouslydemolishedandexpandedintoanelectrifiedGrandCentralTerminal,thesidingsreservedforprivaterailcars
offeredconnectionstocitytelephonesystems.
“Ineedanotherrifle,”saidtheassassin.
“Another99?”askedthegunsmith.
“Haveyouanythingbetter?”
“Ialwaysmakeyouthebest.”
“Thenmoreofthebest!99itis.”
“Withtelescope?”“Onlythemounting.ButI
wantdifferentbullets.”“Isthereaproblemwith
myloads?”Picturingthegunsmith’s
fussyhandsandthedesperate-to-pleaseeyesofageniuswhodidn’tbelievehewasagenius,theassassinreassuredhim,“Yourloadsarewonderfullyconsistent.Itrustmylifewiththem.ButI’vebeenthinking,haveyouevermadeabulletthatexplodes?”
“Adumdumbullet?”“No.Notahollow-point.
Abulletthatdetonatesonimpact.”
“Likeanartilleryshell?”“Precisely.Aminiature
artilleryshell.”“It’shardtoimagine
stuffinganimpactfuseandexplosiveintosuchasmallprojectile.”
“Butyouhaveawonderfulimagination.”
“Iamintrigued,”saidthe
B17
ackfromPocanticoHills,IsaacBellwiredJosephVan
Dorninagencycipher:
BAKUVIACLEVELAND.
Andwithverylittletime
tosetthemurderandCorporationsCommissioninvestigationsinproductivemotionbeforehewasstuckincommunicadoonthehighseas,hefiredoffthreemoretelegrams.
ToDetectiveArchieAbbottinWashington:
WHYPERSIA?ONTHEJUMP.
ToDetectiveWallyKisleyandDetectiveMackFultonstillinKansas:
HOPEWELLTRICKSUPSLEEVE?ONTHEJUMP.
ToDetectiveAloysius“Wish”Clarke,whowasabouttoreceivetheplummiestassignmentofhischeckeredcareer:
COMENEWYORK.ONTHEJUMP.
BellhimselfwenttotheSageGunCompanyonWest43rdStreet.
HewalkedincarryingacarpetbagandshookhandswithDaveMcCoart,ahard-muscledgunsmithwithlong,thinfingersandaruddyIrishcomplexion.
“Iwasjustthinkingaboutyou,”McCoartgreetedhim.
“AreyoufamiliarwiththeFNoutfitinBelgium?”
“FabriqueNationale.FirearmsmanufacturerintheLiègedistrict.”
“Mr.BrowninggaveFNacontracttomanufacturea9mmvariantofanewdesign.Iamtoldit’sabeautifulpistol.I’mthinkingIcanmodifyitwithachamberbushingtofireanAmerican.380calibercartridge.Itwouldbe
considerablylighterthanthatbrickinyourshoulderholster.”
“Ilikemygun’sstoppingpower.It’sservedmewell.”
“WhattheNumber2lacksinstoppingpower—andyouarerighttobeconcerned—willbemadeupwithoutstandingaccuracy.”
“Howoutstanding?”“ComparedtoyourColt?
Likearifle.”“O.K.,makemeone.
Now,Ihaveaquestion.HaveyoueverseenabreakdownmodelofaSavage99?”
“No.”“Couldyouconverta
factorypiecetoabreakdown?”
“Icould.”“Howmanygunsmiths
coulddosuchaconversion?”McCoartgrinned.“That
dependsonwhethertheaccuracyoftheweaponishighonyourlistof
expectations.”“Atthetop.”“ThenIwouldshopvery
carefullytogettherightman.Lookforonewhohasatop-notchmachineshopandseveralpintsofartistinhisbloodstream.”
“Howmanysuchmendoyouknow?”
“Withatop-notchmachineshop?”
“Oraccesstoone.”“...Afew,Isuppose.”
“Howmanymorewouldbeouttherethatyoudon’tknowpersonally?”
“Aroundthecountry?Quiteafew.”
“Howmanywouldbeknowntogunsmithswhoyouknow?”
“Therearecitieswherethebestcongregate.Theysettlenearwheretheylearnedthecraftandcanturntoeachothertomakespecialtyitems.AroundtheWinchesterworks
inNewHaven,Connecticut,orSavage’sfactoryupstateinUtica.SpringfieldinSpringfield,Massachusetts.RemingtoninBridgeport,ColtinHartford.Doyoumindmeaskingwhattherifleisusedfor?”
“Iwasabouttowarnyou.It’sbeingusedformurder.”
“Reckonedasmuch.”“Soaskcarefully.You
don’twanttogetonthewrongsideofthisguy.”
McCoartasked,“Doyousupposethesmithknowswhathiscustomerisupto?”
Itwasagoodquestion,andBellthoughtonitbeforeheanswered.“Thesmithcouldbelievehiscustomerisatargetshooter.”
DaveMcCoartshotaholeinthattheory.“Hewouldn’tthinkitlongiftheguyweren’tactivelycompeting.Hewouldwanttoknowhowhisgundid.”
Bellopenedhiscarpetbag.“Whatdoyouthinkofthisone?”
McCoartweighedthepartsinhisbighands,examinedtheminthelight,thenscrewedthemtogether.“Nice.Very,verynicework.Thebarrelandchamberlocklikethey’rewelded.”
“Recognizeit?”“No.Otherthanitnarrows
thefieldconsiderably.Therearen’tthatmanysmithsof
thiscaliber.LikeIsaid,anartist.Didyoushootit?”
“Ihitafencepostataquartermiletwiceandwingedittwice.”
“Couldhavebeenthewind.Couldhavebeentheloads.Couldhavebeenknockedaroundsinceitwaslastsightedin.Wouldyoulikemetobench-sightit?”
“Andloadmesomecartridges.”
“Where’sthetelescope?”
“Itwasn’tonit.”“Whydoyousupposehe
leftsuchabeautifulpiecebehind?”
“Tothrowmeoffthescent.”
“Savingmoneyonthetelescope.Goodonesdon’tcomecheap.”
“Or,”saidBell,seeinganotherwaytobacktracktheassassin,“maybethetelescopeisevenrarerthanthegun.”
—“Whatareyourprospects,Mr.Bell?”BillMattersaskedbluntlywhenIsaacBellcalledatMatters’GramercyParktownhouse.
Bellreckonedheshouldnotbesurprisedbyhowyoung,vigorous,andtoughEdnaandNellie’sfatherwas.“Hardasadamantine,”SpikeHopewellhaddubbedhim.
“Choirboysdon’tlastintheoilbusiness.”
Still,hehadexpectedasmoothercompanymanversionofSpikeHopewell.Instead,hefoundamanfifteenyearsyoungerthanSpike.Hehadahardmouth,andhardereyes,andseemedinordinatelyprotectiveofhisaccomplished,independentdaughters.
“Father,”saidNelliebeforeBellcouldanswer,
“Mr.Belljustwalkedinthedoor,”andEdna,whohaddescendedthestairswithNellieandwasnowseatedbesideheronagreensilk-coveredsetteethathighlightedthecoloroftheireyes,said,“Thisroleofvigilantfather,Father,doesnotbecomeyou.”
Mattersdidnotsmile.Norwouldhebederailed.“Iwanttoknowwhathisprospectsareifhe’scallingonmy
daughters.That’swhyyou’rehere,isn’tit?”
Ednastartedtoprotest.Bellinterrupted.“Thankyou,ladies.Iwill
speakformyself.Toansweryourquestion,sir,IenjoyedsteadyadvancementintheVanDornDetectiveAgency.NowI’mstrikingoutonmyown.Iintendtostartmyownfirm,andIwillworkhardtomakeagoofit.”
“Howmuchwillyou
earn?”“Sufficientformyneeds.”“Sufficienttosupporta
family?”“Pregnancy,”saidNellie,
“hasnotcomeunderdiscussion.Yet.”
Mattersglowered.Ednasaid,“Ibelievethat
Mr.BellisaBostonBell,Father.Thebankers.Hedoesnotneedto‘marrywell.’”
“AmericanStatesBank?Isthattrue,Bell?”
BelllookedfromEdnatoNellieandaddressedhisanswertotheirfather’squestionstobothofthem.“Iwouldrathermarryhappilythan‘well.’”
BillMattersbarkedalaughthatdidnothingtosoftenhiseyes.“Hear!Hear!Wellsaid!O.K.,youwon’tbeadetectiveforlong.Takeoverthebankwhenyouroldmanretires.”
“Iwillremaina
detective,”saidBell.Hedidnotelaborateuponthedeepcontestationwithhisfatheronthatissue,northathisgrandfatherhadintercededwithalegacythatmadehimfinanciallyindependent.NeitherwasMatters’business,beautifuldaughtersnotwithstanding.
“Haveityourway.Sitdown.Girls,let’sgiveMr.Bellsomethingtodrink.”
Matters’butlerappeared
inthedoorway.Themanworeatailcoatandwhitegloves,andhisfacewasremarkablysmooth,butBellpeggedhisstanceandlight-footedgaitasthatofanex-prizefighterwhohadretiredbeforehelostamatch.
“Whatisit,Rivers?”“Telephone,sir.”Mattershurriedoff
withoutaword.Ednarose.“I’llleaveyoutwotoit.”
“Whereareyougoing?”
askedNellie.“Mr.Belliscallingon
you,notme.”“Don’tbeabsurd.He’s
callingonbothofus.Aren’tyou?”
IsaacBellsaid,“Consideringwe’vedinedtogether,traveledtogether,beensetuponbydrunksandshotattogether,Ifeellesslikeacallerthananoldfriendcatchingup.”
“Doyouwantmeto
stay?”askedEdna.“Ofcourse,”Belland
Nelliechorused.Ednawasstillhesitating
whenBillMattersreturnedtothedrawingroom,hisfacesetinagravemask.
“Whatisit?”askedEdna,resumingherseat.
“OldComstockdied.”“Anotherbitesthedust,”
saidNellie.“That’stwoinaweek.”
“Youwon’tmournhim,
willyou?”askedEdna.“Iwon’tspeakillofthe
dead,”saidBillMatters.“ButyouknowIwon’tmisshisbadgering.”ToIsaacBellheexplained,“AverellComstocktreatedmelikesomesortofinterloper.Hemadeithardtodobusiness,andhardtoadvanceinthefirm.”
“Whatdidhedieof?”“Godknows.Evena
simplecoldwillkillathis
age...Theupshotis,Mr.Bell,we’llbeseeingalotofeachotherinweekstocome.”
“Howisthat,sir?”“ThatwasMr.Rockefeller
onthetelephone.WithComstockgone,thepresidenthasaskedmetoaccompanyhiminhistravels.Hementionedyouwillbehisbodyguard.”
“Youpoorthings,”saidNellie.“Iwouldratherdiethanbestuckallsummerin
Cleveland.Theheat!Thehumidity!Theneighbors!”
“Mr.RockefellersummersathisestateinCleveland,”EdnaexplainedtoBell.
MattersgaveBellasignificantlook.“Isuspectwe’llcreatetheimpressionhe’sinClevelandthanrangefartherafield.Wouldn’tyousay,Mr.Bell?”
“Icannotsay,sir,”Bellrepliedstiffly.“Ashisbodyguard,ifMr.Rockefeller
confidedourdestination,itwouldbeindiscreet,nottomentionreckless,torepeattoanyonewherewearegoing.”
—TheFirstRegimentofNewarkwasbilletedinasturdyNationalGuardarmory,fourstoriesofslab-sidedbrickwalls,relievedonlyslightlybyroundedturrets,andcrownedwitha
parapet.ThesentriesguardingthearchedJayStreetportalrememberedBillyJoneswarmlybutexpressedbafflementwhenIsaacBellaskedwhythechampionmarksmanhaddesertedrightafterwinningthePresident’sMedal.
“Happyguysdon’ttakeFrenchleave,”thecorporalputit.
“Bigfellow?”Bellasked.“Skinnylittleguy,”said
theprivate.“Anyguesswherehelit
outto?”“No.Noonefiguredhim
forlightingout.Kepttohimselfexceptforonepal,NateWildwood.”
“IsNatearound?”askedBell.
“Nategotkilled,”saidtheprivate.
“IntheSpanishwar?”“Nevermadeittothe
war,”thecorporalanswered.
“PoorNatefellunderatrain.BeforeBillylitout.”
“Really?Tellmesomething.HowshortwasBilly?”
“Idon’tknow.Maybefive-three?”
“Littleguy,”saidtheprivate.“Short.”
“Whatcolorwashishair?”
“Brown.”“Whatcolorwerehis
eyes?”
“Green.”“Notreallygreen,”said
thecorporal.“Gray-green.”Theprivatereconsidered.
“Yeah,youcouldsaygray-green.Theygotkindofdeadcolored,sometimes.”
“Dead?”scoffedthecorporal.“Whatdoyoumeandead?”
“Imeandead.Iwasnexttohimonthefiringlinemorethanonce.Whenhestartedshooting,hiseyeslooked
dead.”TheyoungsoldierturnedtoBellandexplainedearnestly,“WhatImeanis,afterIsawthat,IneverwonderedhowBillyJonescouldbesuchagreatshot.Itwaslikehecouldstopeverythoughtinhisbrainwhenhepulledthetrigger.”
Theprivatereflectedforalongmoment.“Itwaslikenothingelsemattered.Likehedidn’tcareaboutnothing.Exceptthetarget.”
—IsaacBelltookthetrainbacktotheferry.Beforehegotontheboat,hesentanotherwiretoArchieAbbott.
MAKEARMYFRIENDS.TRACEDESERTERBILLYJONES.SLIGHTBUILD,5’3”.BROWNHAIR,GRAY-GREENEYES.
W18henWalterL.Hawley,chiefpoliticalreporter
oftheEveningSun,spottedIsaacBellstridingtohisdesk,hestoppedtypingtoclaspthedetective’shandhello.
“You’relookingprosperous.”
“You’relookingink-stained.”
“How’sthebigguy?”HawleyandJosephVanDornhadmetbackintheearly’90swhenthereportercoveredpoliceheadquartersandVanDornhadchasedaChicagoarsonisttoNewYork.
“Firedme,”saidBell.“OrIquit,dependingonwhoshotfirst.”
“WelcometoNewspaperRow.Multitudeswhohave
failedinallattemptsateveryoccupationturntojournalismtofindastopgapbetweenmediocrityandprofessionalbegging.”
“Actually,Ididcometodiscussajob.”
Hawleylookedalarmed.“Easydoesit,”saidBell,
“notforme.WhatdoyoumakeofthesituationinRussia?”
“Itresemblesthebedlamofuncheckedhuman
emotion.MybeatisCityHall,somaybeI’mnotqualifiedtopredictagloomyfuturefortheczar.Butthey’vehadabadyearandit’sonlyJune.
“ItcouldblowtheBakuoilbusinesstoKingdomCome.”
Hawleysaid,“Iwon’taskaprivatedetective,assumingyouarestillone,whatthathastodowithyou.ButIwillask,whatdoesthathavetodo
withme?WhenIneedoil,IgetitfromJohnD.Rockefeller.”
“E.M.HockwouldjumpatafreelanceassignmenttoreportonthethreattotheoilindustryinBaku.”
“Areyouserious?”“Absolutely.”“Wonderful!...Except,
I’vealwaysthoughttherumorsweretrue.She’sawoman,isn’tshe?”
“Verymuchso.”
Hawleyshookhishead.“I’lltellyou,Isaac,Iwouldjumpatachancetohiresuchagoodwriter.Sowouldmypublisher.He’dapproveinaflash.Butwewouldbestronglyhesitanttosendawomanamongheathens.RussiansandMoslems,andIbelievethey’veevengotsomePersians,they’renextdoor,aren’tthey?”
Bellsaid,“WhenImetEdnaMattersinKansas,she
hadjustdrivenupfromIndianTerritoryinabuckboardwagon.Hersisterwashertravelingcompanion.IimagineNellieMatterswouldgoalongtoRussia.”
“NellieMatters?TheInsufferableSuffragette?”
“IfindNellieMattersanythingbutinsufferable.”
“Idon’tmeantodisparagethelady,”thenewspapermansaidhastily.“Certainlylovelytolookat,andafieryorator.
She’llreallymakehermarkwiththatNewWoman’sFlyover.”
“Whatdoyousay?”askedBell.“WillyouhireE.M.Hock?”
“Butnowyou’resuggestingsendingtwowomenamongtheheathens.Ifsomethinghappenedtotheminwhereverthatgodforsakenplaceis—theCaspianSea?—JoePulitzerandBillHearstandPreston
Whitewaywouldyellow-journalusintoourgraves.Theywouldincitemobstotearuslimbfromlimb.NewsieswhotriedtoselltheSunwouldbehungfromlampposts.”
“I’llarrangeforthebestprivatedetectiveinthebusinesstostandwatchoverthem.”
“Thatcouldgetexpensive.”
“I’llpayforthedetective,
youpayMissMatters’fee.”“Soundslikeyouhavea
wealthyclient,Isaac,ifyou’renotworkingforVanDornanymore.”
“Iwillpayforthedetective,”Bellrepeated.
Hawleysaid,“That’sright.You’rerich.Iforgot.O.K.It’sadeal!Andthanks,Isaac.Ifshe’lltakethejob,she’llsetanewstandardforouroverpaidhacks.”
Theyshookonit.Bell
said,“Butdon’ttellher—oranyone—thatIhaveanythingtodowiththis.Noone!”
WalterHawleywinked.“Mindmeaskingwhichsisteryou’resweeton?”
IsaacBelldeliveredthegrinthatamarriedmanexpectedfromabachelor.
“Let’sjustsaythatwiththisarrangement,Icankeepmyeyeonbothofthem.”
—ArchieAbbottcamethroughwithawiretotheYaleClub.HisfriendsintheStateDepartmentreportedstrongrumorsthattheShahofPersiawasnegotiatingamonsterloanfromtheRussianczar.ArchiespeculatedthatmaybesuchaloanwouldexplainRockefeller’sclandestinevisittothePersianembassy.
Maybe.Bellhadpackedandwas
justleavingtheclubtowalktoGrandCentral,intendingtoboardthetrainwellaheadofRockefeller,whenthedayhallportersaid,“There’sastreeturchinaskingforyou.”
“Where?”“Hesnuckinthroughthe
kitchen.”“Didhesaywhathe
wanted?”“Heclaimshe’sa
probationaryVanDornapprentice.Ifiguredifhewere,he’dknowyoudon’tworkthereanymore.”
Bellhurrieddownstairstothekitchen.Aboywholookedlikeacleaned-up,dressed-upstreetratwasstandingquietlyinacorner.Scarcelyintohisteens,hiseyesalert,hismannersodiffident,hewasalmostinvisible.
“What’syourname,son?”
“Tobin,sir.EddieTobin.”“Whodoyouapprentice
under?”“Mr.Warren.”Ofcourse.TheVanDorn
streetgangexpert.IfEddieTobinwasgoodenoughforHarryWarren,hewasgoodenoughforBell.
“Howoldareyou?”“Notoldenoughto
apprentice.I’monlyprobationary.”
“Iaskedhowold?”Bell
growled.“Fifteen.”“Howold?”“Fourteen.”“WhenIwasfourteen,I
ranawaytothecircus.DidMr.Warrensendyou?”
“Mr.Forrer.Mr.WarrensaiditwasO.K.”
“Whatdoyouhavethere?”
Thekidhadanenvelopeofnewspaperclippings.
Bellhadreadthetopone
already:
AverellComstock,directorofStandardOil,andatonetimepresidentofthecorporation,diedafterabriefillness.ComstockwasoneofthebigoilcapitalistsofthecountrywholaidthefoundationsfortheStandardOilCompanyalongsideJohnD.Rockefeller,ClydeLapham,andHenryM.Flagler.Heserved,too,asadirectoroftheWesternUnionTelegraph
Company,thePennsylvaniaRailroad,andthePittsburghNationalBank.Hiswealthwasestimatedatfrom$75,000,000to$100,000,000.
ThesecondclippingreportedthatAverellComstockhadlefttenthousanddollarstoaMrs.MaryMcCloudwhohadacoffeestandthattheoilmagnatehadfrequentedonFultonStreet.
ThelastclippingreportedthataMrs.MaryMcCloudhaddiedinatenementfireinChathamSquare.
Forrerhadtypedanote.
SameMrs.McCloud.TenementshortwalkfromFulton.
“Comewithme,Tobin.”JohnD.Rockefeller’strainwasleavinginthreehours.IfBelldidn’thaveenoughtime,
thekidcouldfollowupandwaitforreinforcements.
“Yes,sir,Mr.Bell!”Theyraceddowntownon
theElevated.
—Beforedescendingtothestreet,BellscannedthesqualidneighborhoodfromthevantageoftheChathamSquareElstation.WaltHawleyandtheEveningSun
andmostofthebigNewYorkdailiesoccupiedtheclean,modernNewspaperRowsectionofParkRowlessthanahalfmiledowntown.ThiswastheuppersectionofParkRow,aslumthathadbeenaslumformostofthecity’slonghistory.
Hespottedaburned-outtenementandledTobindownthestairs,threeatabound.
Sawhorsesblockedthesidewalk.Thebuildingsthat
flankedithadburned,too.Rainhadfallensince,andtheodorofwetcharredwoodhungheavilyintheair.SettlementHouseworkerswerehelpingfamilieswholosttheirhomesloadbedclothesandfurniturethathadsurvivedthefire.
“Maybethiswillhelp,”saidBell.Hepressedtwotwenty-dollargoldpieces,twomonths’sweatshopearnings,intothehandsofthe
startledwomanincharge.“Godblessyou,sir.”“Didanyonehereknow
Mrs.McCloud?”heasked.Nonedid,butonesaidshe
thoughtMrs.McCloudhadworkedonFultonStreet.BellandTobinhurrieddowntownandacrossFultontowardtheEastRiver.Atthewaterfront,cartsandtemporarystallshadsetupbusinesssellingrefreshments.
“Ihopethosearen’t
JamaicaBayoysters,”saidTobin.
“Why’sthat?”“JamaicaBay’spolluted
withthetyphoid.”“We’relookingforcoffee
stands,”saidBell.Theyfoundarowofthemsellingcoffeeandcakeandpastries.Onespacewasempty.Bellpaidforcoffeeandcakefortheapprentice.ThekidtoreintoithungrilybutpaidcloseattentionasBellquestioned
thewomanwhopoured.“WhereisMrs.
McCloud?”“Gone.”“Whendidsheleave?”“Shedidn’tleave.She
died.Shewaskilledinafire.”
“Thatisterrible,”saidBell.“Didyouknowherwell?”
“NotaswellasMrs.Campbell.Theshopontheotherside.Kate!”shecalled
acrosstheemptystand.“GentlemanhereisaskingaboutMrs.McCloud.”
Bellcrossedoverandorderedaslabofpoundcake.“Mrs.Campbell?I’mJethroSmith.Ijustheard.Ihadnoidea.Ididn’tknowherwell,butIstopbywhenI’mdowntown.Whathappened?”
“PoorMrs.McCloud.Widowedyoung.Allshehadwasherboyandhedied.Nowthis.Areyoua
newspaperman?”“No,ma’am.I’minthe
insuranceline.Whydoyouask?”
“Newspapermencamearound.TheysaidthatMaryinheritedtenthousanddollars.Andneverknewit!Diedwithoutknowingit.”
“Didyousayhersondied,too?”Bellasked.
“Drownedintheriver.”“When?”“Thesametimeasthefire
—notthatanybodywassurprised.AnthonyranwiththeFivePointsGang.Ipraysheneverknewhedrowned.”
“Letushope,”saidBell.“Tenthousand!Thatisalotofmoney.Wholeftherthetenthousand?”
“Anoldman.Heusedtocomeeveryday.Iteasedher.Hewassweetonher.Everydaylikeclockwork.Firsthe’deathisoystersonthepier,thenhe’dcomeroundthe
corneranddrinkMary’scoffee.Iusedtosaydon’tgivehimsomuchsugarinhiscoffee.You’llkillhisappetite.Hewon’tordercake.IguessIwaswrongaboutthat.Tenthousand!”
Bellcheckedhiswatch,motionedtoTobin,andpassedhimthecake.“Ihavetocatchatrain.Havealook-seeatwhicheveroysterstandtheoldmanfrequented.”
“Yes,Mr.Bell.Isthere
anythingspecialyouwantmetolookfor?”
Bellpausedforamoment.Itwasasmartquestionfromakidjuststartingout.NowonderHarryWarrenhadtappedhim.Tobinjustmightbeanatural.
“Startwithwherethatstandgetsitsoysters.Let’smakesureMr.Comstockdidn’tdieofthatJamaicaBaytyphusyoumentioned.Soonasyousortthatout,reportto
Mr.Forrer.ThentellMr.WarrenIaskedwouldhegiveyouahandtolookintoaFivePointernamedAnthonyMcClouddrowningintheEastRiver.”
T19
hankyouforseeingmeoff,”JohnD.Rockefellertoldthe
NewYorkreporterswhomobbedtheLakeShoreLimitedplatformatGrandCentral.“I’dexpectyou’dhavemoreprofitablewaystopassyourtime,butitisvery
kindofyou.”Heworeanoldman’s
overcoatandheldtighttotheburlyBillMatters’armwhileIsaacBellstoodguardjustoutofcamerarange.“WhatwillIdoinCleveland?Warmtheseoldbonesandtrymyhandknockinggolfballs.”
TheClevelandnewspaperssentreporterstomeethistrainatUnionDepot,andpostedmorereportersatthefrontgateof
ForestHill,Rockefeller’ssummerresidenceontheedgeoftown.Aweeklater,thenewspapermenreturnedwhenthecity’sItalianBoysBandcametoserenadehim.Rockefellergavethemashow,seizingabatontoconduct“TheStar-SpangledBanner.”ItwouldbehislastpublicappearanceuntilOctober.
ThatnightIsaacBellslippedhimandMattersinto
aprivatecarcoupledtotheNewYorkCentral’seastboundLakeShoreLimited.Tenhourslater,thetrainwasdividedatAlbany.SomecarscontinuedeasttoBoston,mostheadedsouthtoNewYorkCity.BillMattersjoinedtheNewYorksectiontoboardthefour-funnelGermanoceanlinerSSKaiserWilhelmderGrosse.IsaacBellandJohnD.Rockefellercontinuedonthe
eastboundsection.Waitingwithsteamupin
BostonHarborwasthethree-hundred-footSandra,ahandsomeyachtwithaloftyrakedstackandthelinesofagreyhoundthatRockefellerhadborrowedwhenBellpointedoutthatthenewspapersensuredtherewerenosecretsonanoceanliner.JudgeJamesCongdonhadlentSandrainaflash,leavingBelltospeculate
whetherthelegendaryWallStreetpotentate,afounderofU.S.Steel,wasinonRockefeller’sdeal.Whateverthedealwas.Sofar,BellhadmadenoprogressingettingRockefellertoconfideinhisbodyguard.
Sandra’striple-expansionenginesdrovethemacrosstheAtlanticOceanintwelvedays.TheylandedatCherbourgandrodeinaprivatecarcoupledtothe
boattraintoParis.AFrenchactresswhomBellhadknowninSanFranciscorecruitedherfavoritetheatricalcostumerandwigmakerfromtheComédie-Française.TheycalledonJohnD.Rockefellerintheprivacyofhishotel.
BellbookedtrainticketstoConstantinople.ThenhevisitedadirectoroftheCompagnieInternationaledesWagons-Lits,whosewife’ssapphirenecklaceVanDorn
detectiveshadransomedfromthethiefRosaniawhenshevisitedChicago.ThegratefuldirectorofthesleepingcarcompanygaveBellacopyofthepassengermanifest.BellshowedittoRockefellertoensurethattheoilmagnatewouldnotbumpintofellowtycoonsontheExpressd’Orient.
Thetawnyyellowall-stateroomtrainoffereditspamperedcustomersthe
uniquebenefitofnotbeingroustedfromtheirbedsforpassportchecksatthebordercrossingsastheysteamedthroughMunich,Strasbourg,Vienna,andBudapest.Sixty-fourhoursafterleavingParis,theyawakenedtothebalmyairanddazzlingsunshineofConstantinople,avastandancientcosmopolitancityofmosquesandminarets,asprawlingbazaar,mangydogs,andabustlingharbor
onadeepbluesea.Amailsteamercarried
themuptheBosporusStraitandfourhundredmilesacrosstheBlackSeatoBatum,theworld’sbiggestoilport,wherethesnow-coveredCaucasusMountainsloomedovertheharbor,andthesix-hundred-milepipelinefromBakuterminated.
Dozensofsteamtankersrodeatanchor,queuingtoloadatthekerosenedocks.
Butthecity’sstreetsweredesertedandbuildingsshuttered.
“MuslimsandChristiansareshootingeachother,”BillMattersreportedwhenhemetthematthesteamerinaRolls-Royce.“It’sapogromy,TatarsattackingArmenians.”
“WheredotheRussiansstand?”askedBell.
“ThecopsandArmyturnablindeye.”
Theydrovefivemilesout
ofthecitytoManziadjani.TheAmericanviceconsul,aprosperousandwell-connectedshipbrokerwhomRockefellerhadarrangedtomeet,hadhiscountryplacethere.Shotswerefiredfromthewoodsastheypulledinthroughthefrontgate.BellhadhispistoloutandwasopeninghiscarpetbagwhenViceConsulAbramsstaggereduptothecarwithbloodpouringfromhis
mouth.Theyrushedhimtoa
nearbyRussianArmyfort,wherehediedwithinmomentsofarriving.IsaacBellracedRockefellerandMattersbacktoBatumandontothetraintoBaku.AtTiflis,thecapitalofGeorgia,halfwaytotheCaspianSea,therewerereportsofriots.Abombexplodedoutsidethestation.Bellkepthispartyonthetrainandtheysleptthe
nightsittinguponhardbenches.
Nextmorning,theauthoritiesdithered.Itwasmiddaybeforethetrainpulledout,proceededbyapilotengine,incasewreckerstakingadvantageofthecollapseoflawandorderhadminedthetrackstorobthepassengers.Theysteamedslowlyacrossanendless,ever-more-desolatedryvalleybetweensnowymountainsto
thenorthandindistincthighlandstothesouth.
Anhourbeforenightfall,stillfiftymilesfromBaku,thepilotenginehitamine.
Theexplosionblewitofftherailsandintoaravine,takingwithittheriflemenguardingthetrain.Horsemeninblackcloaksgatheredonaridgethatloomedabovethetracks.
IsaacBellopenedhiscarpetbagandjoinedthe
Savage99’sbarreltoitschamberwithapracticedtwist.Anotherexplosionblockedtherailsbehindthem,andawild-eyedconductorranthroughthecaryelling,“Wreckers!”
Theyattacked,gallopingdowntheslope,brandishinglonggunsandsabers.
“GetMr.Rockefellerundercover,”BelltoldMatters.“Forthimupwiththosebags.”
Mattersobeyedinstantly,helpingRockefellertothefloor,pullingluggagedownfromtheracks.Theoldmanremainedcalmandwatchfulandseemedtohavethehorsesensetotrustthejobtothemanhehadchosentoprotecthim.IfC.C.Gustafsonwasthemostphilosophicalmanonthesubjectofgettingshot,JohnD.RockefellertookthecakeasthecalmestmanwithoutagunthatIsaacBell
hadeverseeninagunfight.Bellcountedtenexpert
ridersonagileponies.Withoutatelescopeontherifle,he’dbewastingammunitionifheopenedupanyfartherthanfourhundredyards.Butfourhundredyardswouldgivehimonlyfortysecondstostopthembeforetheyreachedthestrandedtrain.Heglancedaboutthecar.Someofthemenhadpulledrevolvers.BillMatters
W20henwillyoushoot?”JohnD.Rockefellercalled
toIsaacBell.“WhenIcanhitthem.”Hechosealargeboulder
onthehillsideashisquarter-milemarker.Theleadhorsemansteeredhismount
directlyatit.Asheraisedhiswhiptomaketheanimaljump,BellpressedtheSavagetohisshoulder.Thewhipdescended.Theanimalgathereditshaunchesandlefttheground.IsaacBellwaitedfortherider’schesttocrosstheironsightandcurledhisfingergentlyaroundthetrigger.
DaveMcCoarthadloadedaboxofwildcatsforhimandBelldecidedheowedthe
gunsmithaboxofHavanacigars.Thetrainwreckerslidoffhishorsealmostassmoothlyasifhehadchosentodismount.Hisfootjammedinastirrup.Thepanickedanimalveeredsharply,draggingitsdeadrideracrossthelineofcharge.Twotrainwreckerscrashedintothemandwentdowninatangleofhoofs.
Bellleveredinafreshshell.
Hefixedabeadonariderwhowaswhirlingacarbineoverhisheadlikeasword.AgaintheperfectlybalancedtriggerkepttheweapondeadsteadyasBellfiredandanotherwreckerfelloffhishorse.Buttheyhadclosedwithintwohundredyards.Bell’snexttargetwasaneasyhit,andtheyweresonearforhisnextthathecouldhavedroppedhismanwitharock.
“Shoot!”heroaredatthe
mengapingoutthewindows.Theyjerkedthetriggersof
theirrevolvers,hittingnothing.Throughthathailofwildfire,thehorsemencharged.TheSavage’smagazineindicatorreadoneshotleft.Bellfiredatamansoclose,hecouldseethehairsofhisbeard.
Thatshotandthevolumeofpistolfirebrokethecharge.Twentyyardsfromthetrain,thesurvivorsturned
theirhorsesanddrovethembackuptheridge.Bellreloaded,shoutingtotheothers,“Keepshootingbeforetheychangetheirminds.”
Hesenttwoslugswhistlingovertheirheadsandtheykeptgoing,lashingtheirhorses.Therevolver-totingpassengersstoppedshootingorranoutofammunition.Thebeginningsofaraggedcheerdiedontheirlipsaseachandeveryman
consideredhowclosehehadcometoannihilation.Silencefinallydescendedinthehot,dustyrailcar.
IsaacBellhelpedJohnD.Rockefellertohisfeet.
“Nowwhat?”askedtheStandardOilmagnate.
“Wewaitforawrecktraintorepairthetracks.”
“They’recomingback,”apassengershouted.
Menclutchedtheirrevolvers.Butthistimethe
thunderofhoofbeatswasonlyarovingpolicepatrolofCossacksarmedwithbolt-actionriflesandshashkasabers.
BellbrokedowntheSavage.
“Niceshooting,”saidMatters.“Where’dyougettherifle?”
Bellhiditinhiscarpetbag.“Whatrifle?”
IfheowedDaveMcCoartaboxofcigarsforhisbullets,
heshouldinallfairnesssendonetotheassassinforhisgun.Lackinganameandaddress,Bellwouldwaituntilheinstalledhiminhiscellindeathrow.
—IsaacBellledamuch-jauntierJohnD.RockefelleroffthetrainatBakuStationthanthegeezerintheovercoatwhohadboardedtheLakeShore
LimitedtoCleveland.Hisactressfriend’sComédie-Françaisecostumershadcamouflagedthemagnate’sfamousfeatureswithasilver-graywigtocoverhisbaldheadandmatchingeyebrowsfastenedwithspiritgumtoreplacethosehehadlosttoalopecia.Tintedspectaclesshadedhispiercinggaze.Awhiteflannel“icecream”suit,astrawpanama,andagold-headedwalkingstick
bedeckedagracefullyagingdandyvisitingasouthernRussiancityinthesummer.
Heevencrackedajoke.“Processserversfromthe
CorporationsCommissionwon’tknowmefromAdam.”
WithBellathisside,hestrodethroughthestation,thepictureofanadventurousAmericanwhomightbeatouristorawealthymissionary.Though,infact,theyhadmadehima
diplomat.Rockefeller’sWashington“correspondents”hadprovidedunassailabledocumentsforafictitiousSpecialU.S.EnvoyforCommercialAffairstoRussiaandPersia—theHonorableJosephD.Stone.
OnBell’sorders,BillMattershadleftthetrainearlieratasuburbanstation.Matterswastravelingunderhisownnameastherepresentativeofthe
AmericanrefinerybuilderPurestIncorporatedofNewJersey—whichhappenedtobeoneofStandardOil’ssecretsubsidiaries.HislettersofintroductiontothemayorofBaku,theprefect,thegovernor,andthecity’sleadingoilmenstatedthathismissionwastopersuadetheRussiangovernmenttoletPurestbuildnew,modernrefineriesandreplacetheoldonesownedbyRothschild
andNobel.AseeminglychancemeetingwithSpecialEnvoyJosephD.StonewouldleadtoMattersandStonediscoveringthattheirbusinessinterestscoincided.
IsaacBell,too,traveledunderhisownname.BoguspapersestablishedthetalldetectiveasSpecialEnvoyStone’sprivatesecretaryandbodyguardwhohadbeengrantedextendedleavefromtheUnitedStatesSecret
Service.ComparedtoTiflisand
Batum,themuch-biggercityofBakuseemedpeacefulandlesstense,exhibitingfewoutwardsignsoflastwinter’smurderousriots.Bakuwasalsoquiteclearlythethrivingcapitalofanoil-richregionthatpumpedhalftheentireworld’spetroleum.Thelavishrailroadstation,bustlingwithcrowdsofpeoplespeakingFarsi,Russian,and
Armenian,wastheequalofanyinParisorLondon.
Outsidethestation,womenworeveils,carthorsesploddedundertallRussianyokes,andtheruinsofacenturies-oldPersiancitadelloomedonahill.Butswiftmoderntrolleysglidedonbroadcobblestoneavenues.Thestonework,mansardroofs,towers,cupolas,andportecocheresofBakuCityHallandthe
EmbassyRowbuildingsweretypicalofagreatmetropolis.TheostentatiousprivatepalacesbuiltbytheoilkingsspokeofvastfortunesmadeassuddenlyastheywereonWallStreet—andwerenolessgaudythanthoseliningFifthAvenue.
AnhourofbuyingdrinksandeavesdroppingintheHoteldel’Europe’sbarsandlobbyconfirmedBell’sdecisiontobaseRockefeller’s
envoydisguiseontheinformationArchiehadturnedupinWashington.TherumorrepeatedmostanxiouslysaidthattheShahofPersiahadsecretlyborrowedfifteenmillionrublesfromCzarNicholas.ThattheloanmightgainRussia’sNavyentréetothePersianGulfhadGreatBritainandtheUnitedStatesriledtothecore.
JohnD.Rockefellerwas
thrilled.Beaming,heconfidedtoBellinoneoftheunguardedmomentshehadbeguntoofferupsincehiscostuminginParis,“Notonemaninahundredwillkeephiseyeontheball.”
Hedidnotseematallsurprisedbytherumorsoftheczar’smoneylending,andIsaacBellconcludedthathehadprobablyknownabouttheloanrightdowntothelastrublelongbeforetheyleft
T21
heassassin’sfirstandstrongestinclinationhadbeento
masqueradeasaCossack.Thepageantryandsheerspectacleofthesavagewarriorsappealed,andtherewasgreatadvantagetobehadplayingtheroleofacharacter
whofrightenedordinaryfolk.ButCossacksweresocloselyrelatedbybloodandclanthattheyknewoneanother,andallknewtheirplacefromahundredtraditionsoftribalhierarchy.
Toactthepartofanaristocratwasalmostastempting.TheprivilegedgratinofRussiansocietyspokeFrench,whichtheassassincouldunderstand,andwerekowtowedtoby
everyone,especiallysoldiersandpolice.Butaristocrats,too,weredividedbyimpenetrablelayersofrank.Whoknewwhatsuperioryouwouldaccidentallyinsult?
Luckily,therewasonesortthateveryRussianfeared.
Thelowliestpeasant,thenoblestaristocrat,theangryTatar,thedespisedArmenian,thearrogantsoldier,thebrutalcop,thecorruptbureaucrat,
allwereterrifiedbytheOkhrana,theczar’ssecretpolice.
Plainclothesagents’disguisesrangedfromtherubberneckingtouristtothecitylaborer.Theassassinhadobservedthat,howeverdisguised,secretagentsoftenbetrayedthemselveswithasuperiorattitude.Lordingitoverpeoplewasnowayfortheczar’sspiestocatchrevolutionaries.Thatwas
theirloss.Butfromtheassassin’spointofview,pullingrankwasafoolproofwaytoscareRussiansintobackingdownandleavingyoualone.
Theriots,andthedreadofworseimpending,gavethedisguiseevensharperteeth.ThegovernmenthadputtheBakuregioninastateofchrezvychainaiaokhrana,or“extraordinarysecurity.”Peopledreadingmerciless
sentencesofprisonandexilewithoutatrialweredoublyinterroroftheOkhrana.
Headhighandgazecontemptuous,brandishingamasterrigger’stoolbox,theassassinbrushedpasttheguardsattheNobelrefinerygate.TheywerewatchingforarmedTatars,andnotinclinedtotanglewithaplainclothessecretpolicemanmasqueradinginbrand-new,too-cleanoveralls.
ThederricksintheBakufieldswerefireproofedwithmetalandGypsolitesheathingandmoredenselypositionedthaninKansas—stackedmorelikethecrowdedLosAngelesfieldsalongSunsetBoulevard,withtheaccompanyingsmoke,fumes,stench,andnoise.Inallotheraspects,theyresembledthosetheassassinhadstudied.Steamenginespoweredthedrillmachinery,
laddersranupthesides,cablesturnedovercrownpulleys,andthetopsofthederricksweresurroundedwithparapetworkplatformsthatmadeanidealshootingperch.
Theworkmentendingtheenginesandthepumpslookedaway,hopingnottomakeeyecontactthatcouldleadtoquestions.Eventhedrillersdeepeningthewellswithbitandcasing—amuch-
tougherlotofmen—avertedtheirfaces.Thewaywascleartochooseanuntendedderrickthatofferedaclearfieldoffireyetwasremoteenoughtoallowanunimpededescape.
TheassassinfoundtherightderrickalongtheshoreofBakuBay,whichshelteredtanksteamers,barges,andtugboatsfromtheCaspianSea.ItsparapetcommandedaperspectiveoftheBakuroadandthegatewheretraffic
enteredtherefinery.Thesmokemadeithardtosee,butwindgustsoffthewaterstirreditsporadically,muchastheKansaswindhadatHopewellField.
Safelyensconcedhighintheairwithapanoramicfieldoffire,allthatremainedwastoassembletheSavage,adjustthetelescope,inserttheclip,andwaitfortheso-calledSpecialEnvoyJosephD.Stone,StandardOil
directingheadBillMatters,andsupposedformerVanDorndetectiveIsaacBell.
—Aftermonthsofinstigatingmurderinthestreetsandhomessetafireandpropertylootedinhopesofdistractingangrycitizensfromcontemplatingrevolution—hopeslargelyrealized—itdawnedontheczar’s
governmentthattheEuropeaninvestorsdemandingstabilitywererighttobealarmed.TheTatarpogromyagainsttheArmenianswasabouttodestroyRussia’smostvaluableindustry.SowhenPurestIncorporatedexecutiveBillMattersandSpecialCommercialEnvoyStonedrovetotheNobelrefineryinBlackTown,theBakuregionprefectandthegovernorinsistedonprovidinga
powerfulescort.Cossackoutridersin
brilliantreduniformscrownedbytallsheepskinpapakhiformedacordonaroundtheirauto—aCleveland-built,24-horsepowerPeerlessTonneaucar—whichcausedIsaacBelltoelevateeverynerveendtoitshigheststate.
Surroundedbysaber-wieldinghorsemen,thecar’srateofspeedwaslimitedtoa
brisktrot.Atthesametime,theglitteringCossackspinpointedtheexactlocationofthePeerless—itselfavisualextravaganzaofredenamelandpolishedbrass—forarevolutionarywithapistolorasniperdrawingabead.
BellwasnotparticularlyconcernedaboutarevolutionarygettingpasttheCossacks,andevenifonemanagedto,thescufflewould
givehimplentyoftimetoblowtheattacker’sheadoffwithhisColtautomatic.Asniperwasagrimmerstory,andBellwatchedanxiouslyforaglintofsmoke-darkenedsunlightonadistantrifle.Hecouldbestationedonarooforinanatticwindow,atanyheightthatpresentedalineoffireabovethetallhorsemen.
Theymovedoutofthehotelandembassydistricts,pastArmenianneighborhoods
ofshutteredhouses,andthroughslumswheretheTatars,distinguishedbytheirbluetunics,darkerskin,androundfaces,staredsullenly.TheCossacks’faceshardened,theirtensionbetrayedbystiffenedbacksanddartingeyes.
Bellhadbefriendedthechauffeur,Josef,aGeorgianwithatallpompadourofwavyblackhairandthefurtiveflickerinhiscoal-dark
eyesofapolicespyassignedtoeavesdropontheAmericans.JosefexplainedinhaltingEnglishthattheCossackshadneworderstostopthepogromy,towhichtheyhadbeenturninganofficiallysanctionedblindeye.NowtheyweretheTatars’enemy.“TatarshootCossack,”theGeorgianflungcheerfullyoverhisshouldertoBellinthebackseat.“CossackshootTatar.Make
peace.”Bellglancedat
Rockefellerbesidehim.Theoldmanwaslookingeverywherewithbigeyes.“Whatsplendidhorses!”Heseemedhappy,almostjoyful.BellspeculatedthathewasdelightedthathisSpecialEnvoydisguiseallowedhimforthefirsttimeindecadestomoveaboutinpublic.Tatarsweregloweringathispoliceescort,notatthe“mosthated
maninAmerica.”WhereasBillMatterssat
rigidlyinthefrontseatnexttothechauffeur,uncomfortableashealwaysappearedtobeinRockefeller’spresence.Hedidnotappearnervous,althoughhewashardlyatease.
Bellwasnotquitesurewhattomakeofhim.AsbrusqueandtoughashehadfoundEdnaandNellie
Matters’fatheronfirstmeeting,hehadnotseenrealindicationsofthe“hardasadamantine”thatSpikeHopewellhadcharacterized.Granted,themanhadkeptacoolheadduringthetrainattack.Hewasclearlyaccustomedtocommand.AnditseemedthattheformerindependenthadeffectedasuccessfultransitiontowhatRockefellerreferredtoasa“valuableexecutive.”But
regardlessofthehighlevelofStandardOildirectororheadofdepartmentthepresidenthadpermittedhimtoriseto,BelldidnotbelievethatBillMattershadyetbecome“oneoftheboys”whoranthesecretivetrust.
Thesmokegrewthickerinthesuburbs,theskyblacker.
TheyheadedsoutheasttowardtheBibi-EibatoilfieldandBlackTownrefineries.
Theslow-movingauto
andclatteringhorsescreptintoanenormousfieldofrefinerytanks.Beyondthetankswerecountlessrefiningpots,eachwithasquatchimneybelchingsmoke.Asharpshootercouldcrouchontheclimbingrungsononeofthechimneys,thoughhewouldbetakingabigriskofbeingseen.Themorelikelysnipingposition,liketheroostthattheassassinhadclimbeduptoinKansas,
wouldbeinthevirtualskyscrapercityofathousandoilderricksthatmarchedinclose-packedrankstotheedgeoftheCaspianSea.
ATatarplumberworkingontheroofofoneoftherefinerytanksdroppedamonkeywrench.Thetoolbangedresoundinglyagainstthemetalside.Thenoisestartledahorse.Itrearedsosuddenlythatitsridernearlyslidoffhissaddle.Fora
moment,therewasconsternation,angryshouts,andmillinghorses.Thechauffeurhadtoslamonhisbrakes.ThePeerlessstoppedabruptly,jostlingMattersagainstthewindshield,thechauffeurintohiswheel,andRockefellerhalfoffhisseatuntilcaughtandheldfirmlyinplacebyIsaacBell.
Inthatsameinstant,Bellheardthecrackofahigh-velocityrifleslugsplittheair
inchesfromthebackofhisseat.HegrabbedRockefeller’sarmtodraghimdownoutofthelineoffire.Asecondbulletstruckthetalldetectivelikeaboltoflightning.
T22
heimpactofthehigh-velocityslugthrewIsaacBellagainstthe
sidedoor,breakingitslatch.Itflewopen.HetumbledoutofthePeerless,ricochetedofftherunningboard,andsprawledontheoil-soakedroad.Stillgripping
Rockefeller’sarm,hefoundhimselfvaguelyawarethathesomehowlandedunderneaththetwo-hundred-poundmagnate.Abulletshatteredthewindshield.BillsMattersandthechauffeurjumpedfortheirlives.
Bellheardhisownvoice.HesoundedasifhewerecallingtoJohnD.Rockefellerfromapassingtrain.“AreyouO.K.?”
Theoldmanstraightened
hiswig.“My,my!Mr.Bell,your
coatisdrenchedinblood.”FromBell’snecktohis
elbow,hiswhitesuitjacketwassoakedrubyred.
Hisshoulderfeltonfire.Theshootinghadstopped.
Nowthedangerwasthesteel-shodhoofsofthepanickedhorsesplungingandrearingastheirriderslookedeverywhereatonceforthesourceofthegunfire.
Againhisvoicedriftedfromadistance.“Webetterstandup,Mr.Stone.Beforewegettrampled.”
Hestruggledtohisfeet,usedhisworkingarmtohelpRockefellertohis,thenfoundhimselfholdingontotheoldmantokeephisbalance.
“There!”Bellshouted,pointingatthederricks,thelikeliestplacetheassassinfiredfrom.
TheCossacksdrew
swordsandgallopedintheoppositedirection.
ATatarworkgangwascaughtintheirpath.TheCossacksbeganslashingandshootingindiscriminately.TheMoslemsfledfromthehorses,leavingbehindcrumpleddeadandsquirmingwoundedandsomehastilydiscardedsidearms.
IsaacBellwassurprisedtoseeJohnD.Rockefellerstandingoverhim,staring
downwithaconcernedexpression.“Mr.Bell,you’vefallendownagain.Youarewounded.”
Bellstartedtostandagain.Rockefelleradmonished
himwithanimperiousgesture.“Rightthere!AsIhavebeensaying,youarewounded.”Heraisedhisvoice.“Adoctor!Fetchadoctor!”
ItfinallystruckIsaacBellthatitwasnotagoodideato
standandhelaybackandlethismindfixonhismemoryoftheshooting.Hewassureitwastheassassin.Hewasalsofairlysurethatthebullethadbeenaimedathim,notatRockefeller.Thecarstoppingsuddenlyhadthrownoffthefirstshot.Thatwastheoneheheardcrackleovertheseatback.Hehadtakenthesecond.Aterriblethoughtpiercedhiswhirlingthoughts.Washedrawingfireatthe
manhewassupposedtoprotect?
BellmotionedtoBillMatters,oneofthefaceshoveringoverhim.
“GetMr.R—EnvoyStone—undercover.I’llcatchup.”
“YouO.K.,Bell?”Belltookinventory.
Bloodyashewas,therewerenoarteriesspurtingorhe’dhavebledtodeathbynow.Hetriedtomovehisarm.Thatmadehisshoulderhurt
worse.Buthecouldmoveit.Nobonesfractured.Thewhirlinginhisheadandageneralairofconfusionheblamedontheshockofimpactfromahigh-velocitybullet.
“Tip-top,”hesaid.“GetEnvoyStoneundercover!Now!”
Mattersknelttospeakprivately.“Hesayshewon’tleaveyouhere.”
“TellhimIsaidtoget
undercoverbeforehegetskilledandIlosemyonlyclient.ExplaintohimthatIdon’tknowwhat’sgoingonandIcan’thelphimatthismoment.”
Theywerestillshoutingforadoctor.
Oneappeared,asturdy,barrel-chestedyoungmaninathreadbarecoat,whokneltbesidehim,openedhisbag,andtookoutapairofscissors.HecutawayBell’s
blood-soakedcoatandshirtsleeves,exposingaraggedtearthroughthefleshofhisupperbiceps.HereachedforabottleofcarbolicacidandmutteredsomethinginRussian.
“What?”askedBell.“Ishurting.But
important.”“Beatsinfection,”Bell
agreed.Hebracedforthefierydisinfectant.Foralongmoment,theskyturneddark.
Afterwardsthedoctorbandagedthewound,thentookahypodermicneedlefromitsnestinaboxpaddedwithredvelvet.
“What’sinthat?”askedBell.
“Morphine.Youarefeelingnothing.”
“Saveitforthenextguy—WhatarethoseCossacksshouting?”
“What?”“Doctor,youspeak
English.”“IstudyatEdinburgh.”“Iwillpayyoutwenty
rublesadaytobemytranslator.WhatarethoseCossacksshouting?”
Thedoctor’seyeswidened.OnJanuary’sBloodySunday,theworkersgunneddownattheWinterPalacehadbeendemandingtheirpayberaisedtoadailysalaryofoneruble.
“Whatisyourname?”
askedBell.“AlexeyIrineivoich
Virovets.”“Dr.Virovets,whatare
thoseCossacksshouting?”“Theyarerecognizingthe
capturedgunsasbeinglootedfromarmory.”
Bellleveredhimselfontohisgoodelbow.Hesawpistolsheapedonahorseblanketbutnosharpshooter’sweapons.
“Nowwhat’shesaying?”
ACossackofficerwasreportingloudlytoaciviliandressedintophatandfrockcoat.Bellpeggedhimforthegovernor’srepresentativeoranOkhranaoperative.
“Heblamestheattackonrevolutionaries,”saidVirovets.
“Helpmeup.We’regoingforawalk.”
“Iamnotrecommending—”
“Yourobjectionisnoted.”
Twentyminuteslater,withhisarminasling,thesturdyDr.Virovetsathisside,andanxiousoilcompanyofficialstrailingthem,IsaacBellwalkedbesidetheCaspiansurfbreakingatthefeetofthederricksuntilhefoundonethathadbeenabandoned.Asmuchashewantedtoclimbtoitsparapet,hedoubtedhecouldwithoneworkingarmandaspinninghead.
ThedoctorclimbedforhimandreportedbackthathecouldseetheCossacksstillclusteredwherethebulletshadraineddownonthePeerless.Bellwasnotsurprised.Forgingaheadbeforetheotherstrampledthebeach,hehadspottedasinglesetoffootprintsinthesandthathadapproachedtheladderfromonedirectionandleftinanother.
Butitwaspuzzling.The
derrickwaslessthanfivehundredyardsfromwheretheautohadbeen.Howcouldtheassassinhavemissedtwice?Thesuddenstopcouldexplainthefirstbulletgoingawry.Butwhyhadn’tthesecondorthirdhithiminthehead?Ortheassassin’sfavoritetarget,theneck?
I23
saacBellwokeupstiffandsorethenextmorningtoaslewof
ciphercablegramsfromNewYork.ThefirstwasfromGradyForrer,whocontinuedtosubstituteasdirectingheadofthecaseinhisabsence.
FIVEPOINTERSBLAMEGOPHERS.
BelltookthattomeanthatVanDorndetectiveshaddiscoveredthatAnthonyMcCloud’sfellowFivePointsgangstersdidnotbelievehehadfallendrunkintotheEastRiverbuthadbeenmurdered.TheynaturallyblamedtheirrivalstheGopherGang.Butwhoeverhadkilledhim,andwhateverthemotive,itwasa
heckofacoincidenceithappenedthedayofthefirethatkilledhismother.
Bellcabledback
INFORMNEWYORKCORONER.
entertainingaslimhopethatthecity’smedicalexaminercouldbepersuadedtodigupAverellComstock’sbodytoinvestigateforacauseof
deathotherthanoldage.Acablethatread
HOPEWELLOFTENNEWYORK.
toldBellthatWallyKisleyandMackFultonweregraspingatstrawsaboutSpikeHopewell’s“tricksuphissleeve”inference.Anyindependenttryingtobuildarefineryandpipelinewould
havetotravelregularlytoNewYorkCitytoromancehisWallStreetbankers.
ButtheinformationthatForrerpassedalongfromDaveMcCoartresonatedwithhopeofabreakthroughonthegunsmithfront—cluesthatJosephVanDornbelievedcouldleadthemtothecraftsmanwhosmithedtheassassin’sdeadlyweapon.
THREEPOSSIBLES.
TWOHARTFORD.ONEBRIDGEPORT.BOSSAUTHORIZEDDETECTIVES.
ArchieAbbott,ontheotherhand,stillhadnothingtoreportaboutsharpshooterBillyJones.
ARMYUNFRIENDLY.PURSUINGFRIENDSHIPBRIGADIERGENERALDAUGHTER.ISSUPREMESACRIFICE
AUTHORIZED?
Bellhadjustwritteninencipheronthecablegramblank
AUTHORIZEDONTHEJUMP.
whenDoctorVirovetsarrivedtochangehisbandage.Thewoundwasclean,withnosignofinfection,buttheyagreedonanotherdoseof
carbolicacidtobeonthesafeside.Fordistraction,Bellaskedaboutthevarietyoflanguagesheheardspokeninthestreets.“Tatar,”thedoctorexplained,“GeorgianandRussian.”
“MayIborrowyourstethoscope?”Bellaskedasthedoctorwasleaving.
JohnD.Rockefellerwalkedincarryingatrayofmilkandpryaniki,theRussianspicecookiesof
whichBellhadgrownfond.“I’msurprisedtoseeyou
dressed,Mr.Bell.IpresumedIwouldventureoutalonetoday.”
“Icouldusethefreshair.”ARenaultlimousinewas
waitingwithitscurtainsdrawn.AtBell’sinsistence,theCossackshadbeenreplacedbyplainclothespolicedetectivesonfoot.Sometrottedalongside,huffingandpuffing,asthey
pulledontotheavenue.OthersrodebehindtheminanidenticalRenault,Bellhavingconvincedthecopsthatsimilarlimousineswouldconfuseasniper.
HeandRockefellersatinneardarknessbehindthecurtains.Bellwatchedthestreetsthroughasplitinthecloth,wonderingwhetherasenseofshareddangermightinclinethereticentRockefellertoopenup
furthertohim.Hetestedthewaterswithajoke.
“Iguesswecan’tblametheassassinforslanderingStandardOilifheshootsatthepresident.”
“Hewasn’tshootingatme,”saidRockefeller.“Hewasshootingatyou.”
“Areyousureaboutthat?”“Youaretheonewithhis
arminasling,notI.”“Isn’titpossiblehehitme
whenhemissedyou?”
“Thefirstreportyoufiledwhenyoucametoworkformestatedthathehasmissedhisshotonrareoccasions.Andneverbymuch.Hewasshootingatyou.”
“Soundslikeyounolongerneedabodyguard.”
“Don’tworry,yourjobisnotatrisk.Bakuisteemingwithangrypeopleprimedtokillforeveryimaginablereason.I’mgladtohaveyouwithus.”
“Areyoufreetotellmewhowearecallingon?”
“Inconfidence.Pleasebearinmindthisisnottoberepeated.WearemeetingarepresentativeoftheShahofPersia.”
“HasMr.Mattersgoneahead?”
“Mr.Mattershasotherbusiness.”
“MayIask—?”Rockefeller’seyescut
throughthedimlylit
passengercabinlikelocomotiveheadlamps.“Youhavemanyquestionstoday,Mr.Bell.”
“Gettingshotmakesmecuriousaboutwhattoexpectnext.IwasabouttoaskwhetheryouaremeetingthisrepresentativeasCommercialEnvoyStoneorasthepresidentofStandardOil.”
“Iamtheretiredpresident,”Rockefellershotback.
“Ikeepforgetting,”saidBell.
Thatdrewastonysilence.Butminuteslater,Rockefellerdroppedhisvoicetoahalfwhisperandconfided,“Icannotansweryourquestion,becauseIhavenotyetdecided.IkeephearingaproverbinBaku.Perhapsyou’veheardit,too.‘InPersianomanbelievesanother.’”
“Theyloveinsults,”said
Bell.“Armeniansaresharpers;Georgiansaredrunkards;Tatarssimultaneouslyviolent,unintelligent,andkindly;Germansdull,Cossacksvicious,Russianspetty.AllagreethatPersiansareliars.Whichshouldn’tcomeasasurpriseaftercenturiesoftyrannyandmisgovernment.”
RockefellerfavoredBell’sobservationwithathinsmileandthefurtherconfidence
thatthedetectivewasanglingfor.“Idon’tknowyetwhetherIamdealingwithliars.AllIknowisthatIwillbeginasEnvoyStone.WhetherIbecomeMr.Rockefellerwilldependuponhowmuchnoisetheymakeandhowmuchdusttheythrowintheair.”
TheRenaultstoppedatasideentrancetotheAstoria,oneofthelavishnewhotelsnearCityHall.Theyslipped
inquietly,skirtedthelobby,guidedbyahotelfunctionary,toaserviceelevatorthattookthemtoapenthousekitchen.APersiansecretarygreetedRockefellerinflawlessEnglish.“Itismypleasuretoreport,sir,thatnoonehasmarkedyourarrival.Wearepreparedfortheprivatemeetingyourequested.”
“Yourequestedthemeeting,”Rockefellercorrectedhim,politelybut
firmly.“Irequestedprivacy.”“Thenwearebothhappy,
sir.”ThePersianwasslimandlitheasacat,andasgraceful,withlargeeyesinanarrowface.
RockefellerturnedtoBell.“Waithere.”
“Ihavetoinspecttheroomwhereyouaregoing,”saidBell.
“Itisperfectlysafe,”saidthesecretary.
“Istillwanttoseeit,”said
Bell.“Itisallright,”said
Rockefeller,“Itrustourhosts.”
Bellsaid,“IfIcannotseewhereyouaregoing,ImustinsistthatIwaitdirectlyoutside.Atthedoorinthenextroom.”
“Insist?”Thesecretary’seyebrowsarchedaboveamockingsmile.
Bellignoredhim.ToRockefellerhesaid,“Bythe
termsofourcontract,ouragreementisvoidedif,inmyopinion,youplacemeinapositionthatIcannotprotectyou.Underthoseconditions,theseverancefeeiscalculatedonthetimeitwilltakemetoreturntoNewYork.Thepurposeofthatclauseistomakeyouthinktwiceaboutstrayingtoofarfrommyprotection.”
“Irecall,”saidRockefeller.Headdressedthe
secretary,“Takeustotheroomwherewearetomeet.Mr.Bellwillwaitoutsidethedoor.”
Theyputhiminthefoyer,whichwasexactlywhereIsaacBellwantedtobe.Hewaiteduntilhewasalone,closedtheouterdoor,pulledarubberstopfromhispocket,andwedgeditunderthedoor.ThenheuntangledthestethoscopehehadborrowedfromDr.AlexeyIrineivoich
Virovets,insertedtheeartubes,andpressedthechestpieceagainstthethinnestofthewoodenpanels.
ThesecretarywasactingastranslatorforaPersianofveryhighrank,guessingbythesecretary’sobsequiousmannerofspeakingtohim.Bellheardaroundofelaborategreetings.ThenRockefellergotdowntobusiness.
“TellHisExcellencythatI
haveagiftfortheshahwaitinginmyhotelstables.”
Thiswastranslatedandtheanswertranslatedback.“Theshahisagreatloverofhorses.”
“Tellhimthatthisgiftfortheshahhasmanyhorses.”
Thetranslationbackwasapuzzled“Howmanyhorses?”
Rockefeller,clearlyenjoyinghimself,said,“Tellhimmany,many,brightredandshinybrass.”
“Motors?”“Thefinestautosthat
Clevelandbuilds,”answeredRockefeller.“They’llridecirclesaroundRolls-Royce.Now,tellhim,let’sgetdowntobrasstacks—thatexpressionmeans‘business,’youngfellow.Tellhimthepipelinewillcosttheshahnotonepenny.IwillpayforeveryfootofpipefromRashttothePersianGulf.AndIwillbuildthetankerpiersand
abreakwatertoprotecttheharbor.”
TheanswerinPersianwaslong,andittookthetranslatoralongtimetocraftahalting,vaguereply.
“Bytheterms...ofcertain...understandings...InthenameofthemostmercifulandcompassionateGod,HisMajestytheshah...prefers...tosecure,pleaseGod,theagreementofcertain...neighbors.”
IsaacBellgleanedfromRockefeller’sbluntreplythathis“correspondents”hadlaidalotofgroundworktogettothismeetingwithapersonagewhohadtheshah’sear.Theoldmandidnotsoundonebitsurprised.Nordidhehesitate.
“TellhimtotelltheshahthatIampreparedtopayofftheneighbor’sloan.”
Aftertranslation,therewasalongsilence.Finally,thePersianspoke.The
secretarytranslated,“Howmuchofit?”
“Everyruble.”
—Ontheirwayout,theyhademergedfromtheserviceelevatorandwerehalfwayalongtheedgeofthelobbywhenIsaacBellsuddenlyshoulderedRockefellertowardacorridorthatenteredfromtheside.
“Whatisit?”askedRockefeller,resistingwithhisfullweight.PainshotthroughBell’swound.
“Keepwalking.Turnyourfacetowardme.”
Bellsteeredhimdownthecorridorandintothefirstshop,afloristfilledwithgiantspraysofout-of-seasontulipsandelaborateconcoctionsofroses.Beforethedoorhadclosedbehindthem,heheardfamiliar
ringinglaughter.“Goodlord.Theymake
Pittsburghlookpositivelygenteel.”
Bellpressedagainstthewindowforasharplyangledviewofthelobby.
“Whatisit?”Rockefellerdemanded.
“TwoladieswhowillnotbefooledbySpecialEnvoyStone.”
—JohnD.Rockefellerwasenraged,buthehadheldoffsayinganythinguntiltheywerebackattheirownhotelwhereBillMatterscouldbecalledonthecarpet.
“Thatnewspaperwomanishere,”herailed.“Yourdaughter.WhatisshedoinginBaku?”
BillMatterswas
genuinelyapologetic.Helookedcompletelybaffled.“IhadnoideaeitherofmydaughterswascomingtoBaku.”
“SheistheauthorofTheHistoryoftheUnder-andHeavy-handedOilMonopoly.”
“Yes,Iknow,sir,but—”Rockefellerwhirledon
IsaacBell.“Mr.Bell,didyouknowthatshewascominghere?”
“ThefirstIknew,”Belllied,“waswhenwesawherattheAstoria.”
“Findoutwhatsheknows.NoonemustlearnI’mhere.”
“Letmedothat,”saidMatters.“Please.She’smydaughter.She’llconfideinme.”
RockefellerlookedatBell,demandinghisopinion.
Bellsaid,“E.M.Hockhasnoreasontoconfideinme.Iwillcallonher,ofcourse,as
we’vebecomefriends.Andhersister.Butno,I’mnottheonetoquestionher.BetterforMr.Matterstodoit.”
—Halfthevast,dimlylit,high-ceilingedvaultthathousedtheHoteldel’Europe’sstablesremainedahousebarnandcarriagehouse.Halfhadbeenconvertedintoamodernautoandlimousinegarage
withgasolinepumpsandmechanicsbays.
BellwenttherewithAlexeyIrineivoichVirovetsintheeventheneededatranslator.Hefoundtheshot-upPeerless,withitswindshieldnotyetrepaired.Theyhadparkeditoutoftheway,attheback.Hiddenbehinditweretwolargewoodenshippingcratescoveredincanvas.Bellliftedtheclothandlookedunderit.
InthecratesweretwoidenticalredPeerlessautos,justasRockefellerhadtoldthePersians.
Virovetstranslatedthewritingonvariousshippingstickerspastedtothecrates.TheautoshadbeenoriginallysenttoMoscow,thensouthonfreighttrainstoBaku.Itwasstrange,Bellthought,whenhediscussedthedetailsofthetripwithBillMatters,thePipeLineCommittee
directorhadnevermentionedtheautos.HadMattersthoughtthemunrelatedtoabodyguard’sconcernsforRockefeller’ssafety?Ordidhenotknowaboutthem?Itseemed,Bellthought,oddforRockefellertokeeptheautossecretfromacolleague.Butforwhateverreasontheywerehidden,itwasclearagainthatRockefellerhadplannedthistripfarahead.
—“Well,Father,hereweareallthreehavingteaasifwe’reofftothetheaterinNewYork.”
“I’mverysurprisedtoseeyou.”
“Howcouldyoube?”askedNellie.“Ednawritesabouttheoilbusiness.”
Ednawasquietlywatchingtheirfatherand
lettingNelliedothetalking.Theirfathersaid,“Ididn’t
thinkthattheOilCityDerrickhadthemeanstosendareportertoBaku.”
Nelliesaid,“Clevelandwouldbemoretheirlimit.Ednaiswritingfor...MayItellhim,Edna?”
“It’shardlyasecret.”“TheNewYorkSun!What
doyouthinkofthat,Father?Yourdaughteriswritingforoneofthefinestnewspapers
inthecountry.”“TheSunisnofriendof
StandardOil.”“FortunatelyforStandard
Oil,”saidEdna,“StandardOildoesnotdependonthekindnessoffriends.”
“Andfurthermore,”saidNellie,allexcitedwithcolorhighinhercheeks,“BakucouldbethebiggestthingtohittheoilbusinesssinceSpindletop.”
“Inanoppositeway,”
Ednainterrupteddrily.“Cuttingproductioninhalfinsteadofspoutinggushers.”
“Idon’tknowifthesituationisthatbad,”Matterssaidautomatically.“Theauthoritiesseembackincontrol.”
“Really?”askedEdna.“There’sarumormakingtheroundsthatshotswerefiredatsomeAmericanbusinessmen.”
BillMattersshrugged.
“Anisolatedincident.”“Apparently,”saidEdna,
“theCossacksreactedbyslaughteringrefineryworkers.Andnowtherestareupinarms.”
Mattersshruggedagain.“It’sRussia.Myimpressionistheauthoritieshavestrictcontrolofthesituation.”
“Andwhatareyoudoinghere,Father?Lastweheard,youwereinCleveland.Ijustmailedyouapostcardthere.
HadIknown,Icouldhavehandedittoyouandsavedastamp.”
“Mr.Rockefellersentmetorustleupsomerefinerybusiness—anddon’tprintthat.”
“Notwithoutverification,”Ednasaid.
Nellielaughedsoloudlythatpeopleglancedfromnearbytables.“Father,youshouldseeyourface.Youknowdarnedwellshewon’t
printthat.Certainthingsaresacred.”
“Fatherissacred,”saidEdnawithawinkthatwarmedBillMatters’heart.
Hesatbackwithahappysmileonhisface.Theyhadboughthisstory.
“It’slikeoldtimes,”hesaid.
Thegirlsexchangedaglance.“Whateverdoyoumean?”askedNellie,andEdnaasked,“Whatareyou
smilingabout,Father?”“LikegoingtoNewYork
toseeaplaybackwhenyouwereinpigtails.”
“‘Pigtails’?”echoedNellieinmockhorror.“Wheneveryoutookustothetheater,wedressedlikeperfectlittleladies.”
“Evenafterweceasedtobe,”saidEdna.
“AllI’msayingis,itmakesmeveryhappy.”
—“WhowasthatmanwithE.M.HockandNellieMatters?”JohnD.RockefelleraskedIsaacBell.“IsawhimattheAstoria,andlurkinghereinthelobbywhentheycameforteawiththeirfather.”
“Heistheirbodyguard.”“Helooksthepart,I
suppose.Butareyousure?”
“Iknowhimwell,”saidBell.“AloysiusClarke.HewasaVanDorndetective.”
“AVanDorn?WhatisaVanDorndoinghere?”
“Notanymore.Mr.VanDornlethimgo.”
“Forwhat?”“Drinking.”“Drinking?I’dhave
thoughtthatwasnotuncommonamongdetectives.”
“Mr.VanDorngavehim
severalchances.”“Whodoesheworkfor
now?”“I’dimaginehe’sgone
freelance.I’llspeakwithhim,findoutwhat’sup.”
Rockefellerasked,“Whatisthatsmileonyourface,Mr.Bell?There’ssomethinggoingonhereIdon’tunderstand.”
“Iwasgladtoseehim.WishClarkeisavaluableman.Ijustmayaskhimto
joinforces.”“Rightthere!Notwhilehe
servesE.M.Hock!”“Ofcoursenot.Inthe
future,afterwe’reallsafelybackhome.”
M24ydaughterisreportingfortheNewYorkSun!”
BillMattersexultedtoJohnD.Rockefeller.“It’sabigfeatherinhercap.Awonderfulstepup!”
“DoessheknowIaminBaku?”
“Absolutelynot!”“Whatmakesyousosure?
Howdoyouknowshedidn’tfollowmehere?”
“Theysenthertocovertheriots.”
“Therearen’tanyriots.”“Thatcouldchangeina
flash,Mr.Rockefeller.Youcanfeelitinthestreets.Andmydaughtertoldmethattheofficialsshe’sinterviewedsounddeeplyworried...Now,sir,Iknowthatyou
can’tabidetheSun.NeithercanI,but—”
Rockefellerstoppedhimwithagesture.“Rightthere!TheSunisnonsense.Newspapersareallnonsense.Thelesstheyknowisallthat’simportanttome.”
“Shedoesn’tknowyou’rehere.”
Rockefellerstared.“Allright.Iwillhavetotakeyourwordforit.”
“It’snotonlymyword,
Mr.Rockefeller.Itismyjudgment.AndIguaranteeyou,sir,ifshehadtoldmethatsheknewyouwerehere,Iwouldinformyouimmediately.”
Rockefellershookhisheadandwhispered,“Shewouldnevertellyou.”
“Ibegyourpardon?”“Allright!I’msending
youtoMoscow.”“Moscow?”Matterswas
stunned.Howcouldhework
onthePersianpipelinefromMoscow?“Why?”
“Weneedthoserefinerycontracts.Youhavedoneallyoucanwiththelocalofficials.NowyoumustconvinceMoscowthattheStandard’sthoroughgoing,ableadministrationwilldomuchbetterforRussia’soilbusinessthantheseold,good-for-nothing,rusted-outrefineries.Andifyoucan’tfindtherightofficialsin
Moscow,you’llgoontoSt.Petersburg.”
“Butwhataboutthepipeline?”
“Firsttherefineries.”
—IsaacBellmetAloysiusClarkeontheBakuwaterfront.Theoily,smokyairhadbeenclearedbyasharpwindblowingacrossthebayfromtheCaspian.
Lightswerevisibleformilesalongthegreatcrescentharbor,andBellsawstarsintheskyforthefirsttimesincehehadarrivedinBaku.
Bellthoughthisoldpartnerlookedprettygood,allthingsconsidered.Hewasabig,powerfulmanwhocarriedhisextraweightwell.Hisfacewasgettingfleshyfromdrink,hismouthhadasoftnessassociatedwithindulgence,andhisnosehad
takenontherosyhuebelovedbypaintersportrayinglushes,buthiseyeswerestillhardandsharp.Itwasdifficulttotellwhathewasthinking,orifhewasthinkingatall,unlessyoucaughtanunguardedglimpseofhiseyes,whichwasnotlikely.Besides,Belltoldhimself,aprivatedetectivemistakenforadrunkardboughttheextrasecondsrequiredtogethisfootinadoor.
WishwrappedhistonguearoundtheEnglishlanguagewithaself-taughtreader’slove.“BestjobIcanremember.Sumptuousfeastsandthefinestwinessharednightlywithapairoflookers.AndJoeVanDornpaysthepiper...Howbad’sthatarm?”
“Healingfast,”saidBell.HeflickedopenhiscoattorevealaColtBisleysingle-actionrevolverwherehe
usuallyholsteredhisautomatic,andWishnodded.SinceBellcouldnotyetrelyonthestrengthinhishandtoworktheslidetoloadaroundintohisautomatic’schamber,thespecialtargetpistolversionoftheColt.45wasanaccurate,hard-hittingsubstitute.
“How’dyougetyourpawsonaBisley?”
“YoucanbuyanythinginBaku.”
Asuddengustbuffetedthesidewalk.Wishsaid,“Ireadsomewherethat‘Baku’isPersianfor‘windbeaten.’”
Theywalkeduntiltheyfoundasaloonthatcateredtoseacaptainswhocouldafforddecentfoodandgenuinewhiskey.Theyateanddrankandgotcomfortablereminiscing.Finally,Bellasked,“Whatdoyouthinkofthelookers?”
Wishhadbeenhispartner
ontoughcases.Thetwodetectivestrustedeachotherasonlymencouldwhohadbeenstabbedineachother’scompanyandshotineachother’scompany.Havingsolvedeverycrimetheytackled,theytrustedeachother’sinstincts.Eachwastheother’sbestdevil’sadvocate—rolestheycouldbatbackandforthlikecompetitiontennisplayers.
“Ednaisaveryserious
younglady,”saidWish.“Angrierthanyouwouldthink,atfirst,aboutthewayRockefeller’sriddenroughshodoverherfather.Nellie’sashow-off.She’dmakeagreatactress.Orapolitician.She’llmakeaheckofasplashifshecanpulloffherNewWoman’sFlyoverstunt.”
HegaveBellaninquiringglance.“Whichonedidyoufallfor?”
“Haven’tmadeupmymind.”
Wishchuckled.“Thatsoundsverymuchlikeboth.”
“Itisconfusing,”Belladmitted.“ThereissomethingaboutEdna...But,then,thereissomethingaboutNellie...”
“What?”“Edna’sdeepasthe
ocean.Nelliedazzleslikeakaleidoscope.”
“Idon’tseeeithermaking
awifeanytimesoon.”“I’mnotrushing.”Agustofwindstronger
thantheothersshookthebuilding.Sandblownacrossthebayrattledthewindowpaneslikehail.
“Let’sgettotherealquestion,”saidWish.“Who’stheassassinshootingfor?”
Bellsaid,“YouknowhowtheycallStandardOiltheoctopus?”
“Aptly,”saidWish.
“I’mthinkingourmastermindismorelikeashark.Hangingaroundthismonster-sizeoctopus,thinkingifhecanjustsinkhisteethintooneortwoarms,he’llhavehimselfthemealofalifetime.He’sshiftingtheblameforhiscrimestotheStandard.Ifhecanpullitoff,hereckonstopickupsomepieces.Ifitreallygoeshisway,hefigureshe’llcontrolthesecond-biggesttrustin
oil.”Wishnodded.“I’dcall
thatbasisforamightystronghunch.”
“Hecouldbeinsidethecompanyoranoutsider,anoilman,orarailroadman,orincoalorsteel.Evenacorporationlawyer.”
“Avaluableman,”saidWish,“amanonhiswayup...Say,whereareyougoing?Haveanother.”
Bellhadstoodupandwas
reachingformoney.“My‘boss,’Mr.Rockefeller,iswaitingformetoconfirmthatDetectiveAloysiusClarkeisnolongeraVanDornbutafreelancebodyguardforNellieMattersandE.M.Hock,whoaretravelingtogetherforsafety.AndthatDetectiveClarkegavenohinttomethateitherknowsthatMr.RockefellerisinBaku.”
“Rockefeller?Neverheardofhim,”grinnedWish.He
glancedatthebottletheyweresharing.HisgazeshiftedtoBell’sarminhissling.“Holdon,”hesaid,“I’llwalkyouback.”
“Staythere.I’mO.K.”“Intheeventyougetina
gunfightofsuchdurationthatyouhavetoreload,IwouldneverforgivemyselfifIdidn’tgiveyouronehandahand.”
Outside,thesharpnorthwindthathadclearedthesky
ofsmokeearlierwasblowingagale.Thestarshaddisappearedagain,obscurednowbythesandthattheharshgustsweresuckingintotheair.Theharborlightswerebarelyvisible.Acausticblastrattledpebblesagainstwalls.
“Lookthere!”Agracefulthree-masted,
gaff-riggedschoonerstruggledalongsideanoilberth,sailsfurled,decks
ripplingwithdarkfigurescrowdingtogetoff.Themomentitlanded,gangsofTatarsarmedwithriflesjumpedontothepierandrantowardthecity.
WishClarkesaid,“Ifthecityblows?”
“Weevacuate.”Thesand-swirledskyover
theoilfieldsacrossthebaywasabruptlyaglow.
Withinthecityitself,small-armsfirecrackled.
TheyhurriedupVokzalnayatowardtherailroadstation.Thegunfiregotlouder,pistolandrifleshotspunctuatedallofasuddenbytheheavierchurningofArmymachineguns.Lookingback,Bellsawtheskyoverthebaygettingredder.AglowaheadmarkedmansionssetafireintheArmeniandistrict.
Theybrokeintoaruntowardthehoteldistrict.
“We’llgrabtheladiesatyourplace,”saidBell,“thenMr.R.atmine.”
“Thenwhat?Landorsea?”
“Whicheverwecangetto,”saidIsaacBell.
I25
saacBelltelephonedJohnD.RockefellerfromtheAstoriaHotel’s
lobby.“Packonebagandwear
yourwarmestcoat.We’rerunningforit.”
“Isthislogical?”“Imperative,”saidBell.
“Ihavetosendcables.”“Quickly.”Upstairs,heandWish
foundEdnaMatterswithacarpetbagandhertypewriteralreadyatthedoor,andalarge-scalemapofthelandsborderingtheCaspianandBlackSeasspreadoutonherbed.
“Where’sNellie?”“Ontheroof.”“What’sshedoingonthe
roof?”askedWish.
“It’sthenearestthingtoaballoon,”saidEdna.“She’scheckingthelayoftheland.”
“Gogether,Wish.”BellturnedtoEdna’s
map,whichhehadalreadybeenreviewinginhismind.ThetraintoTiflisandBatumandaBlackSeasteamerwouldwhiskthemtoConstantinopleinfourdays.Butitwastooeasytostopatrainwhereoutlawsweretheonlylaw.
EdnatracedtheCaspianSearoutenorthtoAstrakhananduptheVolgaRiver.“TsaritsynsteamersconnectwiththeMoscowtrain.”
Bellsaid,“Idon’tfancygettingtrappedinthemiddleofaRussianrevolution,ifthat’swhat’sbrewing.”
“NooneI’veinterviewedknowswhatwillhappennext,”saidEdna.
“Leastofall,theRussians.”
“PoorFather.I’mworriedsickabouthimbanishedtoMoscow.”
Bellwenttothewindowandlookeddownatthestreet.Atrolleyhadstoppedonitstracks.Peopleluggingbagsstreamedoffitandhurriedtowardtherailroadstation.Hecranedhisheadtotrytoseethestation,buttheanglewaswrong.Theskylookedred.Shadowsleaped,thrownbymuzzleflashes.Guns
crackledandpeopleranineverydirection.ForwhateverreasonRockefellerhadsentMatterstoMoscow,hewasbetteroffthantheywereatthemoment.
Nellieburstintotheroom,colorhigh,eyesbright.
WishClarkewasrightbehindher,hisexpressiongrim.“BiggunfightonMillionnayaandariotatthetrainstation,”hereported.“Nelliespottedawayacross
Vokzalnayaifwewanttheharbor.”
“Wewantit,”saidBell.“Let’sgo.”
—TheHoteldel’Europewasguardedbynervousplainclothespolice.Europeanspacedthelobbyshoutingatfrightenedstaff.ThehotelpianistbeganplayingaSchubertserenade
asif,IsaacBellthoughtfleetingly,hehopedtohelptheworldrightitself.Bellrantogethiscarpetbag.Rockefeller’ssuite,adjoininghisroom,wasempty.Bellsearcheditandranbackdowntothelobby.Wishwasstandingonthestairs,wherehecouldwatchthedoors.EdnaandNelliestoodbehindhim.Bothwomenwereeerilycalm.
“Didyousee
Rockefeller?”“No.”“There!”saidEdna.Theoilmagnatewas
exitingthehotelmanager’soffice.Helookedlikehewasheadedtoagardenpartyinhisdandy’scostume,butEdnahadseenthroughthewigdisguiseinaflash.Bellsawherbeautifulfaceharden.Herlipswerepressedtightly,dotsofcolorflushedonhercheekbones,andhereyes
settledonRockefellerwithanintensitystokedbyhatred.
HeglancedatNellie.Everytraceofthebigsmileusuallyreadyonherlipshadextinguishedlikeaburningcoalplungedincoldwater.Thecolorofhereyes,likeEdna’s,shedeverysoftvestigeofgreenandturnedgrayasash.
Wishmuttered,astheyplungedacrossthecrowdedlobbytointercept
Rockefeller,“Areyoustillsureyouwanttoruntogether?Theyoungladiesareprimedtoclawhiseyesout.”
“Notmyfirstchoice,”saidBell.“Butit’souronlychoice.”
Rockefellersawthemhurryingtowardhimandsaid,“Thereyouare.Iwasjustpayingourhotelbill.”
“Bill?”echoedWish.“Thetown’sblowingup.”
“Ipaymydebts.”Themanagerranfromhis
officeandputthelietothat.“EnvoyStone!Ifthey
replytoyourcables,whereshallIforwardtheanswers?”
“NewYork.”“EnvoyStone!”IsaacBell
saidwiththeiceofcoldsteelinhisvoice.“We’regoing—now.Stickclose.”
—
ThesituationonVokzalnayadeterioratedradicallybeforetheywerehalfwaytotheharbor.Here,too,thetrolleyhadstopped.SuddenlyTatarswererunningupthemiddleofthestreetshootingpistolsatwell-dressedArmenianshuddledingroups.
RussianArmysoldierswheeledupaMaximgunonaheavySokolovmount.Asthemachinegunnersproppeditonitslegs,theTatarsfled
aroundthecorner.TheArmeniansrantowardthestation,mothersdraggingchildren,youngmenandwomenhelpingtheirelders.
PistolfireraineddownontheRussiansoldiersfromabove.Thegunnerstiltedthewater-jacketedbarrelupward.TheMaximchurned,andastreamofslugsblastedsecond-storywindows.
Fromoneofthosewindowsflewabaseball-size
spherewithaglitteringtailofaburningfuse.Stillintheair,itexplodedwithaflashandasharpbang,andthestreetandsidewalksweresuddenlylitteredwithbodies.Woundedwerereelingawaywhenasecondbombexplodedprematurelystillinsidethewindow.Nooneremainedaliveinthecircleofthetwoexplosions,nottheTatars,Armenians,ortheRussianguncrewsprawled
aroundtheMaxim.IsaacBellandAloysius
Clarkechargedstraightatit.AMaximgunandathousand.303roundsintrainedhandswouldbetheirticketaboardanyshiprunningfromtheharbor.WishheavedonehundredfortypoundsofMaximandSokolovmountoverhisshoulder.Bellscoopedupfourcanvasammunitionbeltsinhisgoodarmandlooped
themaroundhisneck.“Go!”Theystaggeredtowardthe
harbor,closelytrailedbyNellieandEdnaandRockefeller.AtthefootofVokzalnaya,amobofpeoplewasstormingthepassengersteamerpierfightingtogetupthegangwayoftheoneremainingship.Shipsthathadalreadyfledwerefaracrossthebay,lightsfadinginthesandhazeasthey
steamedforthesafetyoftheopensea.
“Mr.Bell!”criedRockefeller.“IsthattheNobellubricatingoilrefineryafire?”
TheStandardOilpresident’seyeslockedonthesightofahugefiremilesupthecoastatBlackTown.Fromthewhite-hotheartofit,flamesleapedathousandfeetintotheair.
“Lookslikeit,”saidBell,
whowasscanningthefingerpiersforalikelyship.TheyhadtouredthatRussianrefineryyesterday.Rockefellerwasschemingtobuyit,buttheMoscow-basedbranchoftheNobeldynamitefamilyhadnointentionofselling.Nowtheprizehadgoneupinsmoke.
“Trampfreighter,”saidWish,swinginghisshouldertopointtheMaximupthewaterfronttowardasteamer
soolditstillhadmasts.“Theywon’tbefightingtogetonthatone.”
Bellsawthatthetrampwasbillowingsmokefromitssinglestack.“He’sraisingsteam.”
Theyherdedtheirchargestowardit.ButastheygotclosetheysawWishhadbeenwrong.Crowdsconvergingonitspierhadforcedtheirwayonboard.Overloaded,theshipwasheelingata
dangerousangle.“Wait,there’sonecoming
in.”Asmallshipshowingno
lightsslippedoutofthedark.Itlookedlikesalvation.ThentheysawtheTatars.Theywerecrowdedondeck,astheyhadbeenontheschoonerthatlandedearlier,apackedmassofangrymenbristlingwithweapons.
“Where’sMr.Rockefeller?”
Theoldmanhaddisappeared.
“Hewaswithusasecondago.”
Bellhurriedalongarowofshutteredstorefronts,businessesthatcateredtothesteamshippassengers,pastpostcardshops,afruitier,amilliner,souvenirs,Kodakcameras,andshovedthroughthedoorofatelegraphoffice.Afrightenedtelegrapherhadhiscoatandhatonandwas
eyeingthedoorashepoundedhiskey.
“I’llberightthere,Mr.Bell,”Rockefellersaidwithoutlookingup.“Iamsendinganimportantcable.”
“Weagreedourlivesweremoreimportant.Let’sgo.”Belltookhisarm.Rockefellertriedtoshrughimoff.Thetalldetectivesqueezedhardandexplodedangrily,“Whatthedevilismoreimportantthanthelivesoftwowomen
dependingonus?”“Nobel’slubricatingoil
factoryisdestroyed.ThelowspecificgravityofBakucrudemakesRussianlubricatingoilthebestintheworld,sotheNobelshadanicemelontocutalltheseyears.Thebestwe’vegotisrefinedattheWinfieldplantinHumble,Texas.NotasgoodastheRussianlubricatingoil,butalotbetterthannolubricatingoil.”
Clearly,thoughtBell,JohnD.Rockefellercouldkeephisheadwhenallotherswerelosingtheirs.Jugglingtwoballsintheair—theBakurefineriesandthePersianpipeline—suddenlyhetossedupathird,seizinghischancetoprofitbythefires.ButasSpikeHopewellhadsaidabouthisoldpartnerBillMatters,somewherealongthelinehehadgottenhismoraltrolleywirescrossed.
IsaacBellshookthemagnatelikeaterrier.“YouareriskingourlivestocableNewYorktobuytheWinfieldrefinery?”
“Russiawillnevergetthatmarketbackfromme.”
“Done,sir,”saidthetelegrapher,jumpingfromthekey.
WishandtheMatterssisterspushedinthedoorasthetelegrapherranout,andRockefellershuthismouth
likeabeartrap.WishdroppedtheheavyMaximonthetelegraphcounterandthewomenputdowntheirbags.Thoughstillcalm,theylookedfrightened,atribute,thoughtBell,totheircommonsense.
Wishcoollyshiftedthegunmuzzletowardthedooranddrewhisrevolver.
“Isaac,oldson.Weneedaplan.”
“First,”saidBell,
addressingRockefeller,“getthisstraight.Iamrunningthislikeamilitaryoperation.Thereisoneleader.Me.Wishissecond-in-command.Whateverwesay,goes.Isthatclear,Mr.Rockefeller?Nomoredashingoffonyourown.You’llgetusallkilled.”
“O.K.,”saidtherichestmaninAmerica.“Iacceptyourterms.Butnotbeforeweresolveanotherquestion.”HeleveledalongfingeratEdna.
“Iwillnotallowthiswomannewspapermantoreportmybusinesslikepublicnews.”
EdnaMattersansweredinavoiceascoldasitwasdetermined.
“JohnD.Rockefellercontrolshalftheoilintheworld.HeistrappedintheburningcityofBaku,whichproducestheotherhalf.Thatisextraordinarynews.This‘womannewspaperman’reportsthenews.”
O26
uronlyhopeofgettingoutofthiscityaliveistopull
together.Iamnotaskingyoutoteamup.Iamlayingdownrules.Thefirstruleis,Mr.Rockefellerisnothere.”
“Nothere?”Ednalookedathim,eyeswideandangry.
“Whatdoyoumean,nothere?”
“Youcanreportonanythingthathappens,providedwesurvive.Butnothispresence.”
“Icannotagreetothat.”“Youmust.Tomakeitout
ofherealive,wehavetopulltogether.”
“Howwillyoustopme?”“Iwillaskforyourword.”“AndifIdon’tgiveyou
myword?”
“Lootersarerobbingshops,”IsaacBellansweredwithoutthetraceofasmile.“Iwilljointhem.IwillstealaPersiancarpetandrollyouupinit.IwillunrollyouwhenIhavedeliveredyousafelybacktoNewspaperRow.”
“HowCleopatric!”saidNellie.
ToBell’simmenserelief,herjokemadeEdnasmile.Shelookedattheotherswhowerewatchingclosely.
“O.K.!IfMr.Rockefellerpromisesnottoslowusdownstoppingtocableorderstohisheadoffice,Ipromisenottowriteabouthim.”
“Done,”saidRockefeller.“Butwhenhebreaksthat
promise—whichhesurelywill—hemusttellmethecontentsofthecable.”SheextendedherhandtoRockefeller.“Igiveyoumyword.Isitadeal?”
“You’reagood
negotiator,younglady.It’sadeal.”
SheturnedtoIsaacBell.“You,sir,willfindsomewaytomakethisuptome.”
“It’sadeal.”Abulletricochetedoffa
lamppostandsmashedawindow.
“Thequestionremains,”saidWishClarke,“howarewegettingoutofhereifwecan’ttakeashiporatrain?”
“Wecandrivebyauto
backtoBatum,”Rockefellerventured.“ThenaBlackSeasteamertoConstantinople.”
“Whatauto?”askedBell,intendingtogetRockefellertorevealhowthePeerlesseshehadhiddeninthehotelstablesservedhisscheme.
“MyPeerlessTonneaucar.”
“Impossible.Batumissixhundredmilesoverhardcountry.”
“Tiflisishalfwayto
Batum,andtrainsaresaferinGeorgia.”
Bellshookhisheademphatically.“Wecanbarelyallsqueezeinthecar,muchlessstowthegasoline,oil,food,water,tools,andsparesforcrossingopencountry.”
“AndletusnotforgetMr.Maxim,”saidWish,pattingtheweaponhehadproppedonthetelegrapher’sdesk,“withoutwhomnooneintheirrightmindwould
ventureontheso-calledroadstoTiflis.”
“WewouldneedthreeautosassturdyasaPeerless,”saidBell.
“Wehavethree,”saidRockefeller.
“Three?”“IhadthreePeerless
Tonneaucarsshippedahead.”“Why?”Rockefellerhesitated
beforeheanswered,“Gifts.”“Forwhom?”Bell
pressed.Rockefellerclampedhis
mouthshut.Bellsaid,“Mr.
Rockefeller,MissMattersagreednottorevealyourbusiness.You,inturn,agreed—fairlyandsquarelyandaboveboard,sir—thatwe’reallinthistogether.”
Rockefeller’sjawworked.Hispiercingeyes,rarelyreadable,turnedopaque.
Gunfireroared,anditdid
thetrick.“Verywell!TheEnglish
presentedtheShahofPersiawithgiftsofautos.Iwouldoutdotheirgiftswithsolid,Cleveland-builtAmericanautos.ShowhimwhoneedsRolls-Royce?WhoneedsEngland?WhoneedsRussia?”
IsaacBellexchangedafastgrinwithEdnaMattersandanotherwithNellie:yetanotherreminderthatJohnD.
Rockefellerheardtherumorsfirst.Thesecretivemagnatehadplannedfaraheadforhisjourneytoward“thesunrisingoverthebeautifulMediterraneanSea”where“thedayspasspleasantlyandprofitably.”
“Wherearethey?”“Inourhotelstables.”“Let’sseeifthey’renot
onfireyet.”
—Atafastpaceintightsinglefile,theyheadedbacktotheBakuHotel.
Bellled,withtheammunitionbeltsdrapedaroundhisneckandhisBisleyinhisgoodhand.HeputRockefellerbetweenEdnaandNelliesothefityoungwomencouldkeepaneyeonthemuch-olderman.Wish
marchedrearguard,withhisMaximgunoverhisshoulderandasingle-actionColtArmyrevolverinhisfist.
Themanywhomighthavewishedthemharmgavethemawideberth,perhapsunawarethattheMaxim,ordinarilymannedbyacrewoffour,wouldbeacumbersomehandfulfortwo,orwereafraidtotesthowcumbersome.Thehotelwasnotonfire,theTatarshaving
concentratedtheirfuryonthenearbyneighborhoodoftheArmenians,whoseburningmansionswerelightingthenightsky.
Bellledhispeoplepastthehotelanddownthedrivewaytothestables.Thewatchmen,whoweregrippingoldRussianArmyrifles,recognizedhimand“EnvoyStone.”Belltippedthemlavishlyandclosedthebarndoors.Itwasnotmuch
quieter.Despitethickstonewallsandthesurroundingbuildings,theycouldstillheartheshootinginthestreets,while,inside,nervoushorseswerebangingintheirstalls.
Equallynervouschauffeurswatchedthenewarrivalswarily.Afewweretinkeringwithlimousinemotors.Mostwereslumpedbehindtheirsteeringwheelswithhopelessexpressionsas
ifdreadingorderstodrivetotheiremployers’mansionsandbravethemobs.
BelllookedforJosef,theEnglish-speakingchauffeurwhohaddriventhePeerlessandwhocouldbevaluableasareliefdriver,mechanic,andtranslator.Whenhedidn’tseehim,heaskedtheotherchauffeursifhewasaround.
“No,sir.”“No,sir.”Theymutteredamong
themselves.OnemanwhospokealittleEnglishwhispered,“Revolutionary.”
“Josef?”“Mayberevolutionary.
Maybepolice.”“Police?”Thechauffeurshookhis
head.“Agent.”“Provocateur?”“Informer.”ThatJosefwasapolice
spy,Bellhadguessed.Butarevolutionary,too?Onthe
vergeofhiringthismanasdriverandtranslator,Bellchangedhismindanddecidedtotrustnoone.Bettertogoitalone.
—Thebullet-smashedwindshieldofthePeerlessattackedattheBlackTownrefineryhadnotbeenreplaced.Themissingglassofferedaclearfieldoffire,
andWishClarkegotbusymountingtheMaximgunonthePeerless’sbackseat.
TheothertwoautoswereasBellhadseenthemlast,stillinwoodencrates.
“Hammersandbars,”saidBell,wrenchingboardsloosewithhishand.
EdnaMattersreturnedwithablacksmith’shammer.JohnD.Rockefellerfoundacrowbar.NellieMatterspriedboardslooseskillfullywithit,
sayingtoBell,“Don’tlooksurprised.Whodoyouthinkfixesballoonsintheair?”
Rockefellerswungthehammerlikeamanwhohadgrownupchoppingwoodonafarm.
Ednasaid,“Ican’tfixanything.WhatshallIdo?”
Bellsentherinsearchofgasolineandoilandcanstocarryitin.Hegavehermoneytobuyanycansandtoolsthechauffeurswould
sellher.Shecamebackwithcansandtoolsandseveralmaps.
Asthepackingcratesfellaway,Bellwasgladtoseetheautoswereequippedwithstraight-sidetiresondetachablerims.Stony,wagon-ruttedroadsandcameltracksguaranteedmanypunctures.Up-to-datestraight-sidetireswereeasilyremovedfromthewheel,reducingtheholdupfor
patchingthemfromanhourtoafewminutes.
EdnaMattershadgatheredcanstoholdonehundredfiftygallonsofgasolineandoil.Bellsenther,accompaniedbyRockefellerandNellie,acrossthestableyardtothehotelkitchentobuytinnedfoodandbottledwater.Hecheckedthatthecars’crankcaseswerefilledwithoilandpouredgasolineinto
theirtanks.WishClarkemountedthe
Maxim,fedinafreshammunitionbelt,filleditsbarrel-coolingsleevewithhorsetroughwater.Afterheclearedhislineoffirebyremovingtheemptywindshieldframe,hegaveBellahandcrankingthePeerlesses’motors.Oneofthenewonesstartedeasily.Theotherwasbalky,buteventuallyBellcoaxedit
alive.ThecarWishhadcommandeeredfortheMaximguncoughedandsmoked.Theyunscrewedthesparkplugs,cleanedtheelectrodes,andfiledthemtosharperpoints.
Outside,burstsofgunfiregrewloud.Awomanscreamed.Thechauffeursstaredfearfullyatthedoors.Amanwept.Fromthehotelcamethesoundofthepianiststillplaying.
Byoneo’clockinthemorning,theyhadallthreePeerlessesfueledandoiledandprovisionsstowed.BellspreadamaponthehoodoftheleadcartoshoweveryonetheirroutefromtheCaspianSeatotheBlackSea.TheywereheadingwestacrossTranscaucasia,betweenRussia’sGreaterCaucasusmountainrangetothenorthandPersia’sLesserCaucasusrangetothesouth.
Theirsixty-mileslotofrivervalleysbetweenthemountainscomprisedtherestiveregionsofAzerbaijan,Armenia,andGeorgia,“where,”thetalldetectivesaid,“theyareactivelytryingtokilleachother.Firststop,Shemaha.Aboutseventy-fivemiles.Anyluck,we’llmakeitbeforenightfalltomorrow.
“WishleadswiththeMaxim.I’llcovertherear.Mr.Rockefeller,youdrive
themiddleone.”“Idon’tknowhowto
drive,”saidRockefeller.“Youdon’t?”“I’veonlyrecently
arrangedtobuyanauto.Itwillbedeliveredwithamantodriveit.”
“Iknowhowtodrive,”saidNellie.
“Youdo?”askedEdna.“Whendidyoulearn?”
“InCalifornia.Abunchofusrealizedthatsuffragists
oughttoknowhowtogetthemselvesaround.Imustsay,it’saloteasierthanyourbuckboard,nottomentionmyballoon.”
Bellwasdubious,tosaytheleast,buthadnochoiceandcouldonlyhopeshewasn’texaggeratingherautoprowess.Theyneededallthreecarstocarrysuppliesandhadtohaveareplacementiftheylostonetoabreakdownthatheand
Wishcouldnotrepair.“Nelliedrivesthemiddle
car,”hesaid.“Ednasitsinfront,Mr.Rockefellerinback.Wish,doyouhavesomethingtolendMr.Rockefeller?”
WishClarkepulledapocketpistolfrominsidehiscoatandgaveittoRockefeller.Theoldmancheckedthatitwasloaded.
Bellhadalreadyremovedhisderringerfromhishat
whennoonewaslooking.Hehandedthetwo-shotpistoltoEdna.“Evershootaderringer?”
“Fathertaughtus.”Bellwasalreadywishing
thattheyhadBillMatterswiththem,carryingthebigRemingtonhehadonthetrain.ThanktheLordfortheMaxim.Andthanks,too,fortheassassin’sSavageinhiscarpetbagonthefloorbesidethesteeringwheel.
“Whataboutme?”askedNellie.“Don’tIgetagun?”
“You’llhaveyourhandsfulldriving—Nowlisten,everyone.Wewillstayveryclose.NoheadlampsexceptforWish.Ifyouhaveanytroublewiththeauto,orsomethinghappenstheotherscan’tsee,honkonyourhorn.”
“Isaac?”“What,Edna?”“Wouldn’titbebetterif
Mr.RockefellersatupfrontwithNellieandIsatinWish’scarwiththeMaximgun?”
“DoyouknowhowtofireaMaximgun?”
“IsawMr.Rockefeller’srefinerypoliceusethemtofrightenlaborstrikers.Anyoneconsideringambushinguswillthinktwiceiftheyseethegunmanned—theywon’tknowI’mawoman.”
Shehadapoint,thoughtBell,thoughhedidn’tloveit.Bothwomenhadcapspulledovertheirshorthairandhadchangedintotrouserswhenitwasdecidedtorunforit.ButabushwhackerjustmightshootherfromadistancetodisabletheMaxim.Andyetshewasrightthatamannedmachinegunwouldlookalotmoreintimidating,whichwouldforestallalotoftroublebeforeitstarted.
“Wish,whatdoyousay?Doyouwantheronyourgun?”
Wishdidn’tloveiteither,Bellcouldsee.Nonetheless,hesaid,“I’mafraidEdna’sright.”
Theyshiftedpositions.EdnagaveBell’sderringertoNellieandclimbedinthebackoftheleadPeerless.“Trynottoblowmyheadoff,”Wishcalledoverhisshoulder.
“Duckifyouhearmeshooting.”
JohnD.Rockefellerclimbedintothefrontofthemiddlecar.
NellieMatterssaid,“Thisshouldbeinteresting.”
“Whatdoyoumean?”“Sittingsidebysidewith
thedevilincarnate.”“Youdon’tseemthatbad
tome,”saidRockefeller.Itwasthekindofjokethat
NellieMattersloved,andBell
expectedhertoletlooseoneofherbiglaughs,butallRockefellergotwasanangryglare.Helookedathersister,hunchedovertheMaximbehindhim,andsawthatEdna,too,hadnotevencrackedasmile.
“Lookingonthebrightside,”saidWishClarke,“we’redrivingbrand-new,rock-solid,Cleveland-builtmachines.”
“Turnleftonthemain
road,”saidBell,attemptingtofoldthemapwithonehand.Failingthat,heworkedhisarmoutoftheslingandstuffeditinhispocket.“Let’sgo.”
Heopenedthestabledoors.
Thethreeredcarsrumbledthroughthecobblestoneyardandoutthedrivewayontostreetsnearlylightasday.Housefiresnearbyandoilfieldsand
refineriesburningfarofflitthesky.Theyturnedawayfromthefires,west,outofthecityonroadscloggedwithrefugeesridingincarriages,workwagons,andrichmen’sautosandploddingonfoot.
IsaacBellsawthathisone-daytimetabletoShemahahadbeenwildlyoptimistic.They’dbeluckytomakethatfirsttownintwodays.Thensevenoreightmoretownsandfourhundred
O27
fthesixlongest,hottestdaysandfreezingcoldnights
everendured,”wroteEdnaMatters,typinguphershorthandnotesasshedideverynightwhentheautosfinallystoppedrolling,“todaywasthelongestyet,andI’m
afraiditisnotover.
Thisafternoon’sshoot-out,ourthirdsinceescapingBaku,endedinconclusively.Thosewhowereshootingatusarestilloutthere.NeitherIBnorWCareceasingtheirvigilance.Neitherhassleptmorethanacatnap.Theautosarecircled,astightlyasthenarrowcliffsideclearingwillallow,likealatter-daywagontrainbesiegedbyIndians,andwearewatchingthesteepslopesandthefast-
fallingdarkness.
Shelookedaroundher.WhentheyleftthehotelstableinBaku,thePeerlessautos’tireshadbeenwhiteassnow.Theywereblacknow,blackenedbytheoilystreetsbeforetheywereevenofftheAbsheronPeninsula,cakedwithroaddustandmarredbythepriesusedtoworkthemonandofftheirrimstopatch
punctures.WishClarkewasfixingonenow.Nelliewashelpinghim.JDRwasstretchedacrossabackseat,soundasleep.Theplutocratwastheenvyofall;hecouldsleepthroughanything.IsaacwasdrapedovertheMaximgun,asstillandwatchfulasacat,thebaginwhichhecarriedhisrifleineasyreach,asalways.
Shetyped.
Theroadsareabysmal,vergingonthenonexistent,exceptfortheoccasionalbetter-gradedstretch,whichIBidentifiesasforty-year-oldRussianmilitaryroadsbuilttosubduetheregion.Therearefortressesandbarracks,someabandoned,someoccupiedbysoldiersdisinclinedtoventureout.OccasionallywetrundleacrosshandsomeironbridgestheArmybuiltoverrushingrivers.Theroadoftensnakesbesidetherailroadtracks,on
whichwehavenotseenasingletrainmoving,thoughwedidpassasmolderinglineofblackenedoiltankcarssetafire.
IB,readingoverEMH’sshoulder,wasjustinformedbyEMHthatnothinginouragreementsaysIcannotrevealEnvoyStoneforthelouseJDRis,solongasIdon’trevealhistrueidentity.AlthoughifIBwerenotsoexhaustedfromhiswonderfullysuccessfuleffortstokeepusalive,hemight
havereadfurthertoseethatIgaveEnvoyStonehisdue,albeitgrudgingly,admittingthatStoneactuallybelieves,trulybelieves,thatheandhisilkdeal,inhisownoft-repeatedphrase,‘fairlyandsquarelyandaboveboard.’IbasethisconclusiononaninterviewgrantedbysisterNellie,who’sbeenstuckdrivinghisPeerlessallthistimeandarguingincessantlytonoeffect.SisterNelliefeels,asdoesthisreporter,thatthetroublecomesbyhow
differentlyweestimatethelocationofthatboardhepurportstobeabove.
Forexample,inthemidstoftoday’srunninggunbattles—firstwithrenegadeCossacksbentonrelievingusofourvehicles,thengangsofSocialDemocratrevolutionarieswhoprobablywantourMaximgun—the‘envoy’suddenlyscamperedintoarailroadtelegrapher’shut.Hewasnottryingtohide,notrunningfromthefight,buttryingtosend
anotherbusinesscabletoAmerica.Noonedenieshisbravery.(HegavehisborrowedpistoltosisterNelliebeforerunningagauntletofbulletsinhisabortiveattempttocommunicateGod-knows-what.)
Hiselasticethicsdon’ttroublehimatall.Hebald-facedlyinsistedtothisreporterthatbecausehewasunabletosendhiscable,asthewireswerecut,thecontentsdonotfallunderthe
termsofouragreementandthereforehedoesnothavetoadmitthemtome.Itwouldtakeaherdofexpensivelawyerstogetaroundthatone.Which,ofcourse,hasalwaysbeenhisspecialty.Hesaid,incidentally,thatbeforethewireswerecutthetelegrapherhadreceivedreportsofbiggerfires,continuedlooting,andhundredsmoremurderedinBaku.
SuddenlyEdnaheardwhatsoundedlikethunderandfeltthegroundshake.Shestoppedtypingandlookedup.Thensheresumedtyping,fasterthanever,asifsomethingwaschasingherfingers.
Aboulderjustrolleddownthehill...
Herecomesanother...They’vestartedshootingagain.IBcan’tseethem.He
hasabandonedtheMaximgunandisrunninguptheroadwithhisrifle...
IBisshoutingatEMHtocloseuphertypewriterandtakecoverbehindour“rock-solid,Cleveland-builtmachines.”EMHkeepstypingbecauseitbeatsbeingterrified.IBappearspreparedtoshootEMHifshedoesn’tcloseuphermachine.Butshecan’tstop.Shejustkeepstyping.Sheisnotexactlyhysterical.Infact,notatall.She’stypingbecause,
againstalllogic,itfeelslikeitmakesherbulletproof.
Isaacisretreatingfromthecurveintheroadwherehewastryingtoseewhowasshooting.HeisrunningbacktotheMaximgun.Bulletspluckhissleeve.
—IsaacBelldodgedriflefireandablizzardofstonesplinterstovaultintoWish
Clarke’sPeerlesssohecouldfeedthebeltintotheMaximgun.ButWishwaspinneddownunderanothercar,fromwherehewasshootingbackwithhispistol.BellslidbehindtheMaxim,cockedit,andjerkedthetrigger,grindingouttenshotsbeforethebeltcaughtonthetripod.
Heuntangleditandfiredtenmoreataflickerofmovementatoptheridgethatstareddownatthem.Three
riflemenleapedupandfiredback.BelltriggeredtheMaxim,tryingtohitthembeforethebeltcaught.Eightshots,tenshots,andthistimethebeltdidnothanguponanything.Thepoundingmachinegunhadclearedthetopoftheridgebeforeherealizedwhy.EdnaMattershadjumpedinbesidehimandwasfeedingthebeltassmoothlyasaveteranoftheZuluWars.
“Youcouldgetkilleddoingthis,”hesaid.
“Beatsgettingkilleddoingnothing.”
Shestoodup,thinkingthefightwasover.Feedingthebeltintothegunhadmadeherevenmorebulletproofthantyping.Shedidnotwanttolistentothelowvoiceinthebackofhermindthatnothingmadeanyonebulletproofexceptnobullets.
“Lookout!”
A28
nimmenseboulder,triplethesizeoftheothers,flewatthe
auto.IsaacshovedEdnadown.
Itclearedtheirheadsbyinchesandhittheguardwallthatstoodbetweentheedgeoftheroadandasheerdrop.
Itsmashedthroughthewall,scatteringstones,andtumbledintotheravine.Shoutsoftriumphfromthetopoftheslopeannouncedanotherrollingatthem.
—“IBwasbothrightandwronglastnight,”EdnaMatterstypedinthemorning.
Theairwasbittercold.Astrongwindwasblowingand
theskywasfullofdustclouds.WishClarkesatbehindtheMaximgun.Hewascoveringtheridgeatthetopoftheslope.IsaacBellwasstartingtoclimbitwithfieldglassesaroundhisneckandarevolverinhishand.HewashopingtospotTiflisandarouteonwhichtheycouldmakearunforthecapitalcity.
Thankstotakingcover
underanoverhangofrock.WCandEnvoyStoneandsisterNelliewerenotflattenedbygiantboulders.IBandIwerealsoextremelyluckywhereweshiveredallthelong,coldnight.Butthelastboulderthatthundereddownthehillbeforeitwastoodarkforourenemiestoaimanothersmashedusdeadcenter.
WearedowntotwoPeerlesses.Wemanagedtorescuesomeofthewaterbeforethewreckfellintothe
ravineandwassweptdownstreaminafurioustorrent.Butwecouldsavenoneofthetinnedfoodandnoneoftheextragasoline,whichpresentsaseriousdifficultyasweverylikelydonothaveenoughgasolinelefttoreachTifliseventhoughwebelieveitisclose,justoverthehillsthatwesomehowgotonthewrongsideofwhenwegotlostyesterday.
Lookingonthebrightside,asDetectiveWCiswonttosay,therenegade
Cossacks,orSocialDemocratrevolutionaries,appeartohavebeenthoroughlyrouted.Thoughwhetherthatistrue,wedon’treallyknow,asthenighthadturneddarkasacoalminebythetimethebouldersstoppedhurtlingandtheshootinghadstopped.Iamabsolutelycertainthatthisreporterisnotthefirstfromthecivilizedworldtosay,‘ThankGodfortheMaximgun.’
AdditionalcreditgoestoIB,WC,andsisterNellie,
whohadrefusedtoreturnEnvoyStone’spistol.Aswepreparedtogetunderwayinourremainingtwoautos,IBreadovermyshoulderanddemandededits.Heaskedmetowritethefollowing,whichembarrassesmeinitsimmodesty.HedemandedIwritethatEMHwasadependablebeltfeederwhoallowedhimtoemployourMaximguntogreatadvantage.
IBthendemandedIchangetheword
‘dependable’to‘superlative.’Everyone’saneditor.Buttobefair,poorIsaacisreelingonhisfeet.
MysisterNelliehasfalleninlovewithhim.
EdnaMattersstaredatthepage.
Whohadwrittenthat?Ifatypewritercouldblurt,themachinehadblurteditout.
Sheglancedoverher
shoulder.Isaachadstarteduptheslope.Suddenlyhestopped.Somethinguptheroadhadcaughthisattention.Sheraisedherfingerstothekeysandtypedslowly.
Nellieisnottheeasiestpersontoread.Infact,sheisoftenacipher,ablankslatebehindhersmile.Butinthiscase,IcanseethatshehasfallenhardforIB.
WhichcreatesquiteaquandaryasIhave,too.
StartingthenightinNewYorkhehelpedmethroughmyotherquandary.WhichIbelievemeansIfellfirst...However,beingfirstonlinewon’thelpmeonebit.MydearIsaacisfallingforher.Hedoesn’tknowityet.ButIcantell.Iwouldn’tcallitlove.Butheisfascinatedand,beingaman,probablydoesn’tknowthedifference—
Shestoppedtypingand
cockedhereartolisten.SomeonewasshoutingdowntheslopeinbrokenEnglish.
—“They’rewavingawhiteflag,”IsaacBellcalleddowntoWishClarke.
Itlookedlikeadirtyshirttiedbyitssleevetoarifle.ThemanwavingsteppedwarilyintoviewandIsaacBellimmediatelyrecognized
theblack,wavypompadourhair.ItwasJoseftheGeorgianchauffeurhehadbefriendedinBaku.Theonethattheotherchauffeursclaimedwasaninformerforthesecretpolice.
“What’sheyelling?”askedWish.
IsaacBellstrainedhiskeenhearingtoitsutmostandheard,“Yougivegun.Weletgo.”
Herandowntheslopeand
joinedWishintheleadauto.“TheywantourMaxim.”
“Iwould,too,intheirposition,”saidWish.
“They’rewelcometoit,”saidBell.
“What?”“We’lltradeitforacease-
fireanddirectionstoTiflis.”“They’llkillus,”said
Rockefeller.“Thatthoughtoccurredto
me,”saidBell.HelookedatWish.
Wishsaid,“Isaac,whydon’tyoutalktohim?I’llgetthegunreadytotravel.”
Bellcuppedhishandsandshoutedveryslowlyandclearly,“Tellyourfriendstocomeoutwherewecanseethem.Allofthem.”
Josefshoutedoverhisshoulder.
Twelvemenstarteddowntheslope.Theyweredressedinworkmen’sclothesandtheylookedverysureof
themselves.Bellcountedonlythreerifles.Therestcarriedpistols.Theydescendedtotheroadandstartedtowardtheautos,fanningoutandcoveringoneanotherwithmilitarydiscipline.
“That’scloseenough,”Bellcalled,stoppingthematfiftyfeet.
“Youactsuspicious,”saidJosef.
“Idon’tlikepeoplewhorollbouldersatme.”
“Notus.Cossacks.Wechasethem.”
“Sodidwe,”saidBell.Fromwhathehadseen,heavilyarmedCossackswerenoteasilychased.IfwhatthechauffeursintheHoteldeL’Europe’sstablestoldhimwastrue,thenanOkhranainformercouldarrangefortheCossackstobecalledoffordrivenoffbyloyaltroopsiftheywererenegades.HowhadJoseffoundthemherein
themiddleofnowhere?Howhadheknownaboutthemachinegun?
“Whoareyou,Josef?Whoarethesemen?”
“SocialDemocrats.”“Aren’ttheyillegal?”Josefflashedhischeerful
smile.“Reasonwearewantinggun.”
“Areyoutheirleader?”“No,no,no.Theyaskme
translating.”“Butyoujustsaid‘we.’”
“Mistakingtranslating.”“Translatethis:Guideus
toaroadtoTiflis.Whenweseethetown,thegunisyours.”
“Tiflisnosafe.Muchunrest.”
“Pogromy?”“Politicals.GeneralPrince
Amilakhvaridead.HatefulRussian.OppressingallCaucasia.Russiansbringingforprieststoprayon.Peopleprotest.SocialDemocrats
protest.PoliceshootingSocialDemocrats.”
“Youwantourguntofightthepolice.”
Josef’ssmiledisappeared.“Notyourbusiness.”
“Ifhe’satranslator,”mutteredJohnD.Rockefeller,“I’mmyoldmaidauntOlymphia.”
—TheSocialDemocratfighters
ledthewayonfoot.WishClarkecoveredthemwiththeMaximgun.BelldrovehisPeerless.Rockefeller,Edna,andNellietrailedinthesecondcar.Thewindcontinuedhigh,buffetingthemandblowingdust,andthesungrewhot.
Theyclimbedasteeproadupamountain.Whentheyfinallyreachedabroadplateau—anopenbrownsteppebareofvegetationand
bakedbrownbythesun—theirguidesmetupwithapairofhorse-drawnphaetons.Themensqueezedintothewagonsandstartedacrosstheflattergroundonadustytrack.Afteraboutfourmilesthereweresignsofrecentroadwork,surveyors’stakes,andthecuttingofstreetsasiftheareawastobedeveloped.
Quitesuddenlytheplateauendedattherimofacliff.
Tiflislaybelowthem,one
thousandfeetstraightdown.Bellsawitwasanancient
citygrowinglargeinmoderntimes.Anoldtownofchurchsteeples,cathedraldomes,andtwistedstreetshuggedthecurvesofariver.Aruinedfortressofjaggedrock,abandonedwalls,andramshackleoutbuildingscrouchedonalowercliff.Intheriverfloatedwhatlookedlikemills,eachwithitswaterwheel.
Anewcityspreadoutfromthecenteronasquaregridofstreets.SmokedrewBell’seyeamileorsofromabigopensquareatthecenteroftheoldcity.ItwastherailroadstationwheretwoweeksagotheyhadholedupforthenightontheirwaytoBaku.
Beyondthestationsprawledvastrailyardswithmanyrowsofsidings.Oneverysidingstoodatrainof
blacktankcars.Bellrakeditwithhisfieldglasses.Hesawnowreckage,noneofthedestructiontheyhadencounteredontheeasternstretchesoftheline.Switchenginesandlocomotiveswereexpendingthesmokethathungovertheyard.
“Trainsarerunning.”“Howarewegetting
downthatcliff?”“Goodquestion.”Justassuddenlyasthey
hadcomeuponthecliff,theysawtheanswer.Nelliewasdelightedbyaperspectiveshewouldseenormallyonlyfromaballoon.Herprettyfaceaglow,sheeruptedinahappycry.
“Funicular!”Twocounterbalanced
carriages,largeenoughtoholdfiftypeopleeachandlinkedbyastrongcable,rolledupanddownasteeprailroadbetweenthetopof
themountainthatBellandhispeoplehadjustcrossedandthecitybelow.Therewasabulgeinthelinehalfwaydownthemountain,awaystationwherethetracksdoubledtoallowthetwocarriagestopasseachother.
“Anysteeper,”saidWishClarke,“anditwouldbeanelevator.”
Josefjumpeddownfromhisphaetonandstrodetowardthem,gazelockedgreedilyon
theMaximgun.Wishkepthisfingeronthetrigger.
IsaacBellsaid,“Josef,orderyourmentoplacetheirweaponsaroundthatrock.”
Josefstartedtoprotest.Bellcuthimoff.“The
Maximisoursuntiltheylaydowntheirgunsandwedrivetothefunicular.”
WishClarkeraisedawatercaninhisfreehandandcalledoutinafriendlyvoice,“Wejustfilledthebarrel-
coolingsleeve.Here’smorewaterwhenyouneedit.”Hetookaswigfromthecanandwipedhismouth.“Youmustremembertorefillthesleeveeverycouplehundredroundsortheheatwillsteamitoffandyou’llmeltthebarrel.”
“Weareknowinggun.”“Ihadaninklingyou
might.”Wishjumpedtotheroad,
gatheredtheheavyweaponinhisarms,heaveditoffthe
Peerless,andlaiditgentlyontheground.Helefttheoneremainingammunitionbelt,thenhegotbackbehindthesteeringwheelanddroveafterNellie’scar.
BellwatchedwiththeSavage99bracedagainsthisshoulder.Beforetheyreachedthefunicularstation,Josef’sganghadpouncedontheMaxim,loadeditintoaphaeton,andwhippeduptheirhorses.
—“Whatapleasure,”saidWish.“ThesimpleactofbuyingticketscomparedtofightingacrossAzerbaijanandeasternGeorgiawhilestrayingintostretchesofArmenia.”
IsaacBellwaslookingforwardtobuyingmoretickets:ThetraintoBatum.ThesteamertoConstantinople.TheOrient
ExpresstoParis.Andanoceanlinerhome.
Therailwaycarriagefrombelowclimbedintothestation.Asmatteringoftouristsgotoffwithcuriouslooksfortheroad-weary,dust-cakedtravelerswaitingtodescend.Bellguidedeveryoneintooneofthepassengercompartmentsandclosedthedoor.Theseatswerepitchedatanangletokeepthemhorizontal.
Thecarriagestartedrollingdowntheembankment.
“Isaac!”Nelliegrippedhisarmandpointedacrossthebareandrockyslope.Withhersharpeyeforterrain,shehadspottedJosef’sphaetonsstrugglingdownasteeproadahalfmileaway.
“You’llregretgivingthemthatgun,”saidRockefeller.
“Wedidn’tgiveit,”saidWish,“wetradedit.”
Ittooksixminutestodescendthefunicularrailway’sninehundredfeettothelowerstation.
Anelectrictramwaitedatthebottom,whichtheyrodethroughtheoldcitytothebig,centralErevanSquarethatBellhadseenfromabove.Hesensedtheinstanthealightedthatdespitethepresenceofup-to-dateshops,governmentbuildings,andanenormousRussianbank,there
wasapalpabletensionintheair.Peoplewalkedhurriedlywiththeirheadsdownandavoidingeyecontact.Thereweremanypoliceandsoldiersonpatrol.
“Thefasterwe’reoutofhere,thebetter,”hetoldWish.
Rockefellerspottedatelegraphoffice.“Imustsendacable.”
“Waituntilwegettothetrainstation.”
Theyfoundanotherelectrictram,whichtookthemacrosstheriverandupthroughnewerpartsofthecitytotheCentralRailroadStation.
—MobsofGeorgians,Armenians,andRussiansmilledintheconcourse.
Rockefellerspottedthetelegraphofficeandstrode
throughthemlikeaheavycruiserpartingthewaves.
Bellsaid,“Wish,keepaneyeonhim.We’llbeattheticketwindows.”
Thelineswerelong.Travelersshoutedandgesticulated.Ticketagentsshoutedbackandshooktheirfists.
“Fiveone-wayticketstoBatum.”
“Notrains.”“Whatdoyoumean,no
trains?Theyardisbooming.”“Nopassengertrains.”Bellalreadyhadmoneyin
hishand.Heslippeditacrossthecounter.Theagentwethislips.Itequaledamonth’spay.“Gotobookingoffice.AskforDmitriErmakov.TellhimIsentyou.Itwillcost.”
Thebookingofficewasnexttothetelegraph.Wishwasatthedoor.“He’sstillatit.”
“We’llbeinhere.”
DmitriErmakovmadethemwaittwentyminutes,bywhichtimescoresofpeoplehadstormedinandoutoftheoffice.AtlastBellwasusheredin.Heheldoutthreetimesasmuchmoneyashehadgiventheticketagent.“IneedfiveticketstoBatum.”
Ermakovtookthemoney.“Youmustunderstand,sir,therearenopassengertrains.Onlyoiltrains.”
“Theremustbeoneoryou
wouldn’tbetalkingtome.”“Whenfightingwas
fearedtobreakoutinBaku,Bakusendmanyoiltrains.”
Theresult,ChiefAgentErmakovexplained,wasthatsomanyoiltrainshadrushedoutofBakuwhentroublestartedthattheywerecarryingmoreoilthantheBatumrefineriescouldcookandhadtobeheldinTiflis.Thenrevolutionariescutthepipelineandsuddenlystocks
wererunninglowintherefineriesandshippingpiers.
“Noweverytrainwestisoiltrain.Butonespecialtraintomorrow.Comebacktomorrow.Showpapers.”
“Whatpapers?”“Youneedspecialpass.
Governmenttrainvisas.”“WheredoIgetthem?”“Yougetissuedbymy
friendFeltsman,highofficial.Russian.Youmustpayhim.”
“WhereisFeltsman?”
“Governmentbuilding.ErevanSquare.”
“WhereinErevanSquare?Whichbuilding?”
“NexttoRussianStateBank.”
IsaacBellstoodtohisfullheightandstareddownattheRussiantrainofficial.ThenheopenedhiscoatjustenoughtoallowaglimpseoftheBisleynestledinhisshoulderholster.“IfIcan’tfindthegovernmentbuilding
—orifIcan’tfindMr.Feltsman—Idoknowwheretofindyou...IsthereanythingelseyouwanttotellmebeforeIgobacktoErevanSquare?”
“Iamremembering,”saidthechiefagent,reachingforhistelephone,“thatitwouldbebestifIpersonallytelephonedFeltsmantotellhimtoexpectyou.Thatwayhewouldnotbeouttolunchorsomewherewhenyou
arrive.”“Awiseprecaution,”said
IsaacBell.Hewaitedforthecalltobecompletedandleftsomewhatsurernowthatthepaperswouldbeforthcoming,butconsiderablylesscertainthattomorrow’sspecialpassengertrainwouldmaterializeinthechaos.
—“Holdit!”saidIsaacBell.
TheyhadjuststeppeddownfromthetramtoErevanSquareandwerehurryingacrossthebusyplazatowardthegovernmentbuildingnexttotheRussianStateBankwhenBellsawthegleamingblackpompadourthatcrownedtheSocialDemocratJosef.
“IsthatwhoIthinkitisskulkingatthetramstop?”askedWish.
“Josef.”
Withafurtiveglanceoverhisshoulder,revealingbeyondadoubtthatitwashe,Josefrantojumponthetramleavingfortherailroadstation.
“What’sheupto?”saidWish.
Rockefellerstartedtomakeabeelineforthetelegraph.
“Grabhim,Wish.”Wishsnaredtheplutocrat.“What?What?”
“Justwait,”saidWish.“Something’sup...Whatisit,Isaac?”
BellhadspottedthreeorfourworkmeninthecrowdswhomhemightpossiblyhaveseenwithJosefearlierontheroad.Awarethathewassensingmorethanseeing,helookedupandscannedthetopsofthetwo-andthree-storybuildingsthatborderedtheopenspace.Hecouldfeelstressintheair,almostasif
everypersonbustlingabouthisbusinesswasabouttostopbreathing.
Suddenlytwoenormouscarriagesracedintothesquare.Thunderingalongsidethem,Cossackoutridersbrandishedlancesandrifles.Heavyasfreightwagonsyethigh-wheeledandfast,theywerepulledbyteamsoftenhorses.Theircoachmen,enormousthree-hundred-poundmeningreatcoats,
hauledbackontheirreinsandthecarriagesandoutriderscametoabanging,clashinghaltinfrontoftheelaboratelydecoratedstoneedificethathousedtheRussianStateBank.
BellmotionedurgentlytoWish.
Movingasone,theybackedtheirpeopleaway.
TheCossackslookedformidableandothersinthecrowdsretreated,too.Butthe
menBellhadnoticedamomentearlieredgedcloser.Others,dressedinurbanworkinggarb,convergedonthecarriages.Belllookedupagain.Nowhesawmenontheroofs.
“Isaac!”saidWish.“Iseethem,”saidBell.
“It’sabankrobbery.”
E29
xpropriation,”saidWishClarke,“isthewordfavoredinthe
revolutionarylexicon.”“Bankrobbers!”saidJohn
D.Rockefeller.“Wemustinformthepolice...Officer!”Hesteppedintothestreet,wavingataCossack.
“No,”saidIsaacBell,blockinghimandforcinghisarmdown.“They’vegottwentymenaroundthesquareandontheroofs.Thecopscan’tstopit.They’llonlymakeitbloodier.”
“Youshouldnothavegiventhemthatgun.”
“Itwouldappearthatway,”Wishsaidserenely.
“Speakingofthedevil...”saidBell.
Thetalldetectivedrewhis
revolverandherdedEdna,Nellie,andRockefellertowardtheneareststreetoutofthesquareasWishforgedahead,clearingapathfortheirretreat.
“Herehecomes.”Atwo-horsephaeton
chargedintothesquare.Agunnerandabeltfeeder
hunchedovertheMaximgun.TheyhadperchedtheSokolovmountuponthehighbackbenchwherethe
driverordinarilysat.Therevolutionaryhandlingthereinshadshiftedtothelowerfrontbench.
Thegunnertriggeredtheweaponwithanunearthlyroar.
Shootingoverthedriverandhorses’heads,hetriedtoaimatthebankcarriage.Peopleranfromthenoise,whichwasamplifiedandechoedbythebuildings,andfledthegallopinghorses,
whoseironshoesthrewsparksfromthecobblestones.
Thephaetonleanedintoasharpturn,tallwheelsskidding.Bellhopedtheweightofthemachinegunwouldcapsizetheinherentlyunstablevehicle.Butjustasitseemeditwouldspilltheattackerstotheground,thewheelsslidonthecobblesanditrighteditself.
Abombsailedfromaroof,trailingthesmokeofa
fuse.ItdetonatedintheairwithaflashandaloudbangthatscatteredtheCossacksonrearingmounts.Asecondbombflewfromaroof.Itlandedonthecobblestones,bouncedundertheteampullingtheleadmoneycarriage,andexploded,blowingopenthedoorsofthecarriage.
Men,women,andanimalsscreamed.
Therevolutionariesdove
intothemaelstrom.Firingpistols,theyrantothecarriage.Onemanleapedintoitandthrewbulgingbanksackstohispartners.TheMaximgunkeptfiring.
Thephaetonlurchedandskiddedandthegunnerandbeltfeederheldonbyclingingtotheweapon.Bulletsaimedatthebankcarriagerakedtherooftopsinstead.Thenthedrivergothisanimalsundercontroland
pulledupshort.Stillfiring—theweaponhadneverceasedroaringsincetheyenteredthesquare—thegunnerloweredhisbarrel.Thetorrentofflyingleadstitchedapathdownthebuilding’sstonewalls.
TheMaximexplodedwithathunderousBoom!andaballoffire.
“Darn,”smiledWishClarke.
Sheetsofflameenveloped
thegunnerandthebeltfeeder,thedriverandthephaetonitself.Thehorsesbolted.Theburningwagonracedacrossthesquareandtippedoversuddenly.Thetracesparted.Thehorsesgallopedaway.
“Whathappened?”shoutedRockefeller.
“Theirgunblewup,”saidWishClarke.Thedetectiveshookhisheadinmockdismay.“Themedicoskeep
tellingmethatdemonrumplayshavocwithone’spowersofmemory.Ihatetoadmitthey’reright,butitappearsthatwhenIfilledtheMaxim’scoolingsleeve,Imusthavemixedupthecansofwaterandgasoline.”
“Railyards,”saidIsaacBell.“Now!”
“Butthereisnotrainuntiltomorrow,”Rockefellerprotested.
Bellgrippedhisarm.
“SocialDemocratrevolutionariesjusttriedtorobaRussianStateBank.Soldierswereinjured.Therevolutionariesescaped.Theauthoritieswillsurroundthecityandclosetheroadstocapturethecriminalsandrecoverthemoney.”
“Butthereisnotrain—”“We’retakingadifferent
train.”
—“Never,never,neverjumponthebackofamovingrailcar,”saidIsaacBell.“Alwayshopthefrontofthecar.”
“Why?”askedEdna.Theylaidflatonaballast
embankmentbesidethetraintracksamilewestoftheTiflisyards,waitingforanoiltrain.Bellhadchosenthespotforthesharpcurveinthe
tracksthatwouldshieldthem,thoughonlybriefly,fromthesightoftheengineerandfiremaninthelocomotiveandthebrakemeninthecaboose.Behindthem,aneighborhoodoftenementsandsmallfactoriesbakedinthesun.Noonehadventuredouttotakeaninterestinthemsofar.Buttheycouldnotcountonthat,asthepolicewerefanningoutfromErevanSquare.
“Ifyouslipandfallfrom
thefrontofacarwhiletryingtohopon,”Bellexplained,“you’llfalltothesideofthetrain.Ifyoufallfromthebackofacar,youwillfallunderthewheelsofthenextcar,whichwillrunyouover.”
“Amemorablethought,”saidNellie.
“NellieandEdna,youtwowillgofirst.I’mafraidyou’reonyourown.WishandIwilltakecareoftheoldman.Ifeitherofyoucan’tgeton,the
otherjumpsoffagain.Westaytogether.WishandIwon’tmakeourmoveuntilweseeyou’rebothsafelyon.Nellie,you’vestillgotWish’sgun?”
“Yes.”“Edna,you’vegotmy
derringer.”Ednapattedapocket.“Itappearstobeawell-
runline,sothebrakemenverylikelywillwalkbesidethetrainwhenevertheystop
toinspecttheirtrucksandairhoses.ThelocomotivesI’veseenareup-to-dateBaldwinten-wheelerswithoil-burningfireboxes.They’llstretchtheirwaterstopstoabouteveryhundredmilesandfuelandreliefcrewstotwohundred.Butthey’llhavetostopinthemountainstocoupleonextrapusherengines.Whenevertheystop,stayoutofsight.”
Wishcamerunningfrom
theheadofthebend.“Traincoming.”
—ThelocomotivehaulingtheoiltraintoBatumroundedthecurveunderamassivecrownofthickblacksmoke.Shewasanoilburner,allright—noself-respectingfiremanwouldallowsuchsmokefromacoalfurnace—amodern,ten-drive-wheeled,
Pennsylvania-built“decapod,”movingfasterthanBellwouldhavelikedforthefirstattemptbynovicehobos.Buttheyweren’tlikelytogetasecondchancetohopafreightbeforetheauthoritiesstartedsearchingevenoiltrainsforthebankrobbersandthemoney.
ThepowerfulBaldwinapproachedwheretheyhidontheballastslope,acceleratingasitthrewofftheeight-
hundred-toninertiaofthirtyheavilyladentankcars.Thelocomotivepassedthem,trailedbyitsfuel-and-watertender.Thencamethefirstcar,whichwascomprisedofalong,cylindrical,six-thousand-gallontanklaidhorizontallyonaflatbed.Bellpointedoutthenicheswherethetube-shapedtankwasbracedontheflatbedandshoutedoverthethunder,“Getinsidethatbracewhere
theycan’tseeyou.”HelookedEdnainthe
eyesandsawahealthymixoffearanddetermination.Nellie,bycontrast,showednofear.WhenhegaugedRockefeller’sabilitytotakethechance,themagnatesaidsternly,“Iamcountingonyou,Mr.Bell,thatonedayImayrelatethisincidenttodisbelievinggreat-grandchildren.”
Thelocomotive
E30
dnaMattersscrambleduptheembankment.Nellie
followed,overtakingherandreachingbacktohelpherup.Theyclaspedhands,attainedtheflatroadbed,andranalongthecrosstiesbesidethemovingtrain.
IsaacBelltookJohnD.Rockefeller’sarm.“WishandIhaveyou,sir.Justdowhatwetellyouto.”
TheVanDorndetectivesheavedthetwo-hundred-poundRockefellerbetweenthemlikeascarecrowstuffedwithstrawandspranguptheembankment.
NellieMattersvaultednimblyontotheflatbedoftherollingcar.Shegrabbedastrutthatbracedthetankand,
asEdnajumped,reachedtojoinhandswithher.Ednastumbled.ForasecondshedangledfromNellie’shand,herfeetfranticallytryingtopushoffassheranalongthestoneballastandwoodenties.Sheplantedonefootandtriedtojumpagain.Bellsawhistwo-shotderringerfallfromherpocketandbounceonacrosstieandunderawheel.
Nelliescreamedwitheffortandliftedheraboard.
Thewomenrolledunderthetank,outofsight,whichwasBellandWish’ssignaltohoistRockefellerontothenextcar.
Wish,withtwoworkingarms,wentfirst.
—Thetrainhadcomedownfromthefinalmountainpasstoaswitchingyard,wheretheystoppedtouncouplethe
pusherengine,andBellbegantobelievetheirluckwouldholdallthewaytoBatumwhenalonebrakemanwalkedslowlybesidethecar,shiningabull’s-eyelanternatthetrucks.Theyhad,allfive,shiftedbythentoonecar,thesecondbackfromthetender.Suddenlythebrakemanstraightenedupwithacryandbeganstompingattheground.Hestopped,breathinghard,andpickedup
adeadsnakeinhisglove.HetosseditawayandhislanternbeamhitJohnD.Rockefellerfullintheface.
IsaacBellandWishClarkereachedtowardhimwithbothhands.Eachheldapistolinoneandgoldintheother.
Thebrakemanblinked.Thenhejerkedoffhisheavyglove,snatchedthecoins,andranintothedark.
Wishheldtighttohisgun.
“Thinkhe’llcomeback?”“Notifhe’sanhonest
man,”Bellanswered,stillholdinghis.Theywaited,earsstrainingforthesoundofthebrakemancomingbackwithreinforcementsandprayingforthetraintostart.Thelocomotivewhistled.Thenithuffed.Itwasmoving.Thecouplersclankedasthecarstookuptheslack.Suddenlytheyheardfootstepspounding,overtakingthem,
asthetrainbegantoroll.Thebrakemanran
alongside,spottedthemagain.Hisfacelitwithatriumphantgrin.Hewascarryingsomethingandhethrustitatthem.Itquiveredlikesomethingalive.ForasecondBellthoughtitwasananimalorababy.WishClarkerecognizeditforwhatitwasandheldontight.“Gracias,amigo!”hecalledtotheGeorgian.
Hehelditupfortheresttosee.“Wineskin!”
Downfromthemountainsatlast,theoiltrainracedwest,stoppingonlyonceforfuelandwater.Thedaydawnedbrightandsunny.TheairgrewhumidasthetraindescendedtowardtheriverdeltafromwhichhadbeencarvedtheharborofBatum.Wish,whohadputasizabledentinthewineskin,thrustitatRockefeller.“Have
asnort?”“Idon’tdrink.”“You’llloveit,”said
Wish.“Theysealedtheskinwithnaphtha.Thewinetasteslikeoil.”
Bellleanedoutfromthetankcartolookahead.HespottedtheBlackSea.
—TheConstantinoplesteamerblewitswhistleasBell
herdedhispeopleoutoftheirphaetons.
“There’sFather,”criedNellie.
BillMatterswasonthedock,headingforthegangway.Whenhesawhisdaughters,hisgrimfeaturesmeltedinasmileofreliefandhescoopedEdnaandNellieintohisbigarmsliketheywerelittlegirls.
“HowdidyoumakeoutinMoscow?”Rockefeller
greetedhim.Matters’expression
hardened.“Iwasdoingfineuntiltheysuddenlyclammedup.Nextday,theyrefusedtoseemeatall.IpressedanofficialIhadgivenalotofmoneyto.Heclaimedtheywereangry.Theytoldhimtheyhadbeenbetrayed—byyou,Mr.Rockefeller.”
“How?”“Theywouldn’ttellme.
Anyideawhy?”
“Noneatall,”saidRockefeller.
“Whatdidyoudo?”“Nothing.Don’tyou
understand?Theythrewdustinyoureyes.”
“Idon’tunderstand.”“Yougaveup.Youleft
Moscowtoosoon.”“Doyouwantmetogo
back?”“Waituntilthe
disturbancessettledown.Fornow,we’regoinghome.”
A31
tBudapest,IsaacBellsurprisedthepartyandhehoped
theassassin,ifhewerenearby,byunexpectedlytransferringeveryoneontotheOrientExpress’snewsectiontoBerlin.
“Berlin?You’retakingus
thelongwaytoParis,”complainedRockefeller,whohadinsistedagainoncarryinghisownbagstosaveEuropeanluggagefeeswhentheyboardedtheOrientExpressinConstantinople.
Belltooktheheaviestfromhim.“WearenotgoingtoParis.We’rejoiningSSKaiserWilhelmIIatBremen.There’saboattraininBerlin.”
“Muchbetter,”said
Rockefeller,happilymollified.TheNorthGermanLloydpassengerlinerheldtheBlueRibandforthefastesttimeacrosstheAtlanticOcean.
—TheboattraintoBremensteamedoutoftheGermancapitalonMondaynight,gatheredspeedthroughthesuburbs,andhighballedinto
thedarkatsixtymilesanhour.
IsaacBell,WishClarke,EdnaandNellieMatters,andJohnD.Rockefellergatheredinthediningroomthatoccupiedthefronthalfoftheobservationcar.Theywerestudyingmenusanddiscussing,longingly,theprospectofsooneatingAmericanfoodagainwhenBillMattersburstintothecar.Hestormedpasttheclub
chairsandstoppedshortattheirtables.Hiseyeswerewild,hisjawclenched.
Bellsawhehadcrumpledayellowtelegraminhisfist.
“Father!”saidNellie.“Wewonderedwhereyouhadgottento.”
Ednaasked,“Areyouquitewell?”
Mattersignoredthemboth.“Mr.Rockefeller!Wemustspeak.”Heloweredhisvoice.“Inprivate.”
“Itisratherlatetodiscussbusiness.Whydon’tyousitdownandhavesomesupperwiththerestofus?”
Matterssaid,“ItisnottoolatetodiscussthePeerlessautosyoubroughtfortheshah.”
RockefellerrosesilentlyfromthetableandledMattersoutofthediningcar.
IsaacBellwatchedthemdisappearthroughthevestibuledoor.Hissuspicion
thatMattershadnotknownaboutthebribeswasprovedcorrect.Then,accordingtoRockefeller,Mattershadbeenelsewhereon“otherbusiness”duringtheall-importantmeetingwiththePersiansthatBellhadeavesdroppedonattheHotelAstoria.MattershadnotheardRockefellerpromisetopayofftheshah’sloanfromtheczar.ShortlyafterRockefellerhadsenthimtoMoscow.
Clearly,JohnD.RockefellerhadgonetoBakuwithonepurposeonly:tostrikeabargaintopayoffthedebtinexchangeforalicensetobuildMatters’pipelineacrossPersia.Thecableshe’dbeensodesperatetosendwhileescapingRussiamusthavecompletedthedealandcutMattersoutofit.
Bellsprangtohisfeetandstrodetothevestibuledoor.Hepushedthroughitontothe
gangway,wheretheobservationcarandthesleepingcarbehinditwerecoupled.Theeight-foot-wide,twelve-foot-longspacewasenclosedbyflexibleleather-and-canvasgangwayconnectors.Whiletheymuffledthenoiseofthespeedingtrain,itwasstilllouderthaninsidethecars.
Matterswasshouting,gesticulating,andwavingthetelegram.
“Youknew!Youknewallalong.”
Rockefellerstoodstillasastork,headinclinedasifstrainingtolistenovertherumbleofthewheelsandtherushingwindoftheboattrain’spassage.
“Knewwhat,Mr.Matters?”
“YouknewwhenyousentmetoMoscow.That’swhyyousentme.Togetmeoutoftheway.”
“Knewwhat?”Rockefellerrepeatedmoresharplynow.NeithermanseemedtotakenoticeofIsaacBellwhostoodby,bootsbalancedlightlyontheswayingfloorplate,hiseyeonMatters,wholookedangryenoughtostriketheolderman.
“Youknewthatyouwereclosingaprivatedealforthepipeline,”Mattersyelled.
“HowIchooseto
negotiateforStandardOilismyaffair,Mr.Matters,”Rockefelleransweredinafirmvoicethatcutthroughtheracket.“Itwasmyjudgmentthatonemanspeakingforthecompanyratherthantwowoulddoabetterjobofcuttingthroughheathenmendacity.”
“Wehadanagreement!”Mattersyelled.“ThePersiapipelinewasnotforStandardOil—itwasforus.Wewould
thensellittoStandardOil.”“Isignednosuch
agreement.”“Youledmetobelieve—”“Youbelievedwhatyou
wantedto.”Facecontorting,Matters
suckedgreatgulpsofair.Suddenlyheshouted,“Youbustedupmypipes.”
BellsawthatRockefellerknewinstantlywhatMattersmeant.“Isthatwhatistroublingyou?You’re
blamingme,unfairly,forsomeeventthatoccurredbackin1899?”
“YoustoletheHook.”Rockefellerturnedto
IsaacBellasifthethreeweregolfersstrollingtothenextteeandexplainedoffhandedly,“ConstableHook.TherefinerywejustfinishedbuildingnexttoBayonne.It’sourlargest—themostefficientintheworld.”
“YoustoleitfrommeandSpike.”
“Ipaidyou.”“Pennies!”“IpaidyouinStandard
Oilstock.Imadeyourich.Youridearoundinafancyprivatecar.EvenIdon’tgotothatexpense.”AgainheturnedtoBellasifinathreesome.“I’mquitecontenttochartercarswhentheneedarises.”
“Youbustedupmy
business,”Mattersshouted.“Rightthere!”Rockefeller
roundedonhim.“IthoughtyouwerenotoneofthosewhoarecontrolledbytheinsaneideatodestroytheStandardOilCompany.Clearly,Iwaswrong.Youareamiserablefailurewhowillgotoyourgraveanunhappyman.”
MatterslungedatRockefellerwiththespeedandpowerofaKomodo
dragon.Bellseizedhiswrists.But
bythenMatters’bighandswereclampedtoJohnD.Rockefeller’sthroat.HeyankedRockefeller’stwohundredpoundsofftheplatformandrammedhimtowardtheconnectorcurtain.Unabletobreakhisgrip,BellletgoandsankhisfistsintoMatters’kidneyswithahardleftandaharderright.
ThecrazedMatters
gasped.Hishandsopenedconvulsively.HeletgoofthestrugglingRockefeller.ButBell’spowerhouseblowsdidn’tstophim,onlyslowedhim,andheshovedhisbackintothetalldetective,smashinghimwithallhisweightagainsttheoppositegangwayconnection.BellbouncedoffthespringycurtainandhurledhimselfonMattersasMatterslungedatRockefelleragain.
Toolate,hesawthatMatters’explosionofragewasnotasimpromptuasithadseemed.Beforehestormedintothediner,hehadremovedtheverticalpinsthatlockedtheadjoiningcars’gangwayconnectors.Thenhehadluredtheoldmanontothegangwaytothrowhimoffthetrain.
Theconnectorspartedlikeatheatercurtain.Theblacknightthunderedpastatsixty
milesperhour.JohnD.Rockefellertumbledbackwardthroughtheopening.
IsaacBellrammedpastBillMattersandjumped.
I32
saacBellhadasingleinstanttowonderwhetherhisinjuredarm
hadthestrengthtosavetheirlives.Bythenhewascommittedtothelightningmove,withhisgoodhandgrippingRockefeller’sbeltandtheotherclampedonthe
steel-rimmededgeoftheobservationcar’sgangwayconnector.Hewashangingofftherearendofthecar.Painlancedfromhisshouldertohisfingertips.Ifhelosthisgrip,theywouldfallunderthewheelsofthesleeperbehindit.
Theslipstreambeatingthesideofthetrainslammedthemflatagainsttheconnectors.Belltriedtotakeadvantageoftherushingair
withaHerculeantwistofhisentirebody.Combininghiseverymusclewiththepoweroftheslipstream,hehauledRockefellercloseandswunghimbackthroughthenarrowopeningintothetrain.
BillMatterswaswaitingonthegangway.
IsaacBellsawaninstanceofindecisionflickerontheangryman’sface.Whowouldheattackfirst?Hisenemy,theoldmansprawledathis
feet?Orhisenemy’sbodyguard,whowasbarelyhangingontothesideofthecar?HechoseBell,bracedhimselfwithbothhands,andcockedafoottokickthefingersBellhadclampedaroundtheconnector.Bellwasalreadyinmotion.
Agunshot—aclean,sharpCrack!—cutthroughthethunderofwheelsandwind.Mattersfellbackwithanexpressionofastonishment
thatBellhadsomehowmanagedtodrawhisrevolverandfire.HangingbyonearmashetriggeredtheBisley,Bellmissedhisshot.Hefiredagain;anotherwentwild.Matterswhirledawayandfledtowardthebackofthetrain.
—BillMattersraceddownthefirstsleepingcar’scorridor,
burstouttheenddoor,throughthegangwayandintothesecond.Neartheendofthecarwashistinystateroom.Helockedthedoor,putonhiscoat,grabbedabag,alreadypackedwithseveralthousandingold,Britishten-poundnotes,andGermanmarks,andhisRemingtonpistol.Thenheopenedthewindowonthelocomotive’ssmokeandthunderandreachedhighin
thecornerofthecabinwheretheemergencycommunicationcordswayedwiththetrain’smotionandyankeditsredhandle.
Thecommunicationcordactivatedtheboattrain’sairbrakes.Fromthelocomotiveonback,curvedsteelshoesslammeddownhardoneverywheelofeverycar.Theeffectwasswiftandviolent.
Matterskepthisfeetbyramminghisshoulderagainst
hisstateroom’sfrontpartitiontobracefortheimpact.Fromthecompartmentsaheadandbehindhiscamethethudofpassengerscrashingintobulkheads,theclatterofflyingluggage,criesofpain,andfrightenedscreams.Steelshriekedonsteelunderthehurtlingcarasthebrakeshoesbitandlockedwheelsslidontherails.
Thetrainbuckedlikeagiantanimal.Thecarsbanged
couplersintocouplers.Thespeeddroppedfromsixtytofiftyinaninstant,anddroppedasquicklytoforty.Matterssqueezedthroughthewindow,draggedhisbagafterhim,andtriedtogaugeasafelandingbythebeamofthelocomotiveheadlamp.Hecouldseeinthedistancefourcarsahead,thebeamflickeringthroughaforestthathuggedthetracks.Tojumpwouldbetorun
headlongintoatree.Suddenlytheheadlamp
disappeared.Forasecond,Matterswas
baffled.Thenthetrainwhistlegaveastrangelyhollow,muffledshriek,andherealizedthatthelocomotivehadenteredatunnel.Thecarhewasclingingtowouldbenextintothenarrowopeningaftersmashinghimagainstthestoneworkthatrimmedit.Heheardacrash.His
stateroomdoorflewopen.IsaacBellblastedthroughit,revolverinhand,eyeslockedonthewindow.
Inthemostdecisivemoveofhisentirelife,BillMattersdroppedoffthetrain.
—IsaacBellthrustheadandshouldersandgunoutthestateroomwindowandlookedbehindthetrain.Thenight
wasblack,thespillofwindowlightnegligible,andhecouldnotseewhereMattershadlanded.Thetrainwhistlesoundedoddlymuffled.Bellstartedtoturnhisheadtowarditwhenhesensedsomethingimmensehurtlingathim.HeshovedbackinsideMatters’stateroom,andthenextsecondsawsmoke-blackenedmasonryinchesfromthewindow.
Theboattrainscreechedtoastopinsideatunnel.
Bellboltedfromthestateroomandoutthebackofthesleepercar,pastshakenpassengersinpajamasanddressinggowns,throughthelastcar,andjumpedoffthebackofthetrainontothecrossties.Abrakemanwasrunningfranticallywitharedlanterntoalertthenexttrainthattheboattrainwasblockingthetracks.
Bellfollowedhimoutthetunnelandalongtherailbed,searchingforMattersandfullyexpectingtofindhisbodysmashedagainstatree.Instead,onehundredyardsfromthetunnelportalhefoundabreakintheforest.Itlookedlikeameadow,butatthatmomentthecloudspartedandhesawmoonlightgleamonwater.
—“Good-bye,”saidEdna.“We’llseeyouinNewYork.”
“Good-bye?”askedBell.“We’reonthesameship.”
“We’resailingSecondClass.You’reinFirst.”
“No.Staywithme.I’llpaythedifference.”
“Wewillnotsitinthesamediningroomasthat
man,”saidNellie,turningawaywithoutanotherwordtowalkbrisklytotheSecondClassgangway.
Ednasaid,“Wecanbarelystandtobeonthesameship.Butit’sthefastestwayhome.I’vepromisedafullreporttotheSun,andNelliehasgottotakecommandoftheNewWoman’sFlyoverbeforeacertainsuffragettetriestostealit.Apparently,AmandaFaire’shusbandboughthera
balloon.”Sheloweredhervoice,thoughhersisterwasfarbeyondearshot.“NellieissodistraughtaboutFather.I’vegottogetherhomeandbusy.”
Bellsaid,“IhopeyouunderstandthatI’mterriblysorryaboutyourfather.”
“Youcannotbeassorryasweare,”saidEdna.“We’velivedinfearofthisdayandnowithashappened.”
“YouexpectedhimtoattackMr.Rockefeller?”
“Weexpectedhimtohurthimself.SincethedayRockefellerbrokeuphisbusinessandstolethepieces.Weexpectedhimtokillhimself.Whatyoucallanattack,Isaac,hadexactlythesameeffect.”
“Itishighlylikely,”saidBell,“thatyourfatherisstillalive.”
TheGermanpolicehad
draggedthepondbesidethetracksandsearchedtheforestwithhuntingdogsandfoundnobody.Theyhadvisitedeveryfarmwithintwentymilesandcanvasseddoctorsandhospitals.BillMattershadthoroughlydisappeared.
“Good-bye.”Ednastartedafterhersister,thenturnedbackandkissedhimonthecheek.“Thankyou,Isaac.”
“Whatfor?”“Engineeringmyjobon
theSun.”“Theyweren’tsupposed
totellyou.”“Noonehadtotellme.I
figureditoutonmyown.Veryflattering.”
“TheSunwasluckytosendyoutoBaku.”
“Imeantflatteringthatyouwantedmetocomealong.”
—
“Laststop,”saidIsaacBell.Tugboatsjettingcloudsof
coalsmokewereworkingtheKaiserWilhelmagainstNorthGermanLloyd’sHobokenpier.
“Notprecisely,”saidJohnD.Rockefeller.“WestillhavethetraintoCleveland.”
“Mylaststop,”saidBell.HetookaletterfromhistravelingsuitandhandedittoRockefeller.“Hereismyresignation.”
“Resignation?Iamdismayed.Whyareyouquitting?”
“Standards.”“Standards?What
standards?”“Youhadnoneedtorob
BillMatters.Iwillnotcondonehiscrimes,butyoumistreatedhimbadlyandfornopurposeotherthanbeatinghim.”
Rockefeller’slipstightenedinaflatline.He
lookedaway,gazingattheharbor,thenhelookedBellintheeye.“WhenIwasaboy,myfathersharpedustomakeusstrong.Hetaughtushowtotradebytakingusagainandagain.EverytimeIwassoft,hetookadvantageandbeatmeineverydealuntilIlearnedhowtowin.Itmademesharp.”
“Itmadeyouabully.”“It’sahabit,”said
Rockefeller.“Ahabitthat
servedmewell.”Bellappearedtochange
thesubject.“Iunderstandyourfatherisstillalive.”
AlookofgenuineaffectionwarmedRockefeller’scoldface.“Ninetyandgoingstrong.”
“Menlivelonginyourfamily.”
“Thelordhasblesseduswithmanyyears.”
“Manyyearstobreakbadhabits.”
“Ibegyourpardon?”“You’vebeenallotted
moreyearsthanmosttobreakhabitsyoushouldbreak,”saidIsaacBell.
Rockefellerbridled.“Iamusingmyyearsforphilanthropy—forallthegoodit’sdoneme.TheystillthinkI’mamonster.”
“Theythinkyou’reabully.Andthey’reright.Butifyouaskme,you’vemadeagoodstartwithphilanthropy.
I’dkeepatit.”“Wouldyou,now?You
arenotfamiliarwithbusinessaffairs,Mr.Bell.You’relikecertainwriters,theorists,socialists,andanarchists—soreadytodeterminehowbesttheycanappropriatethepossessionsofothers.”
“Good-bye,Mr.Rockefeller.”
“Youcan’tleavemedefenseless.Youtookajobandsignedacontractto
protectme.WhatifMatterssurfacesandtriestokillme?”
“I’veassignedWishClarketoescortyouhometoCleveland.There,yourbodyguardswillbeprovidedbyVanDornProtectiveServices.”
“VanDorn?AreyougoingbacktoVanDorn?”
“Ineverleft.”“What?Youneverleft
VanDorn’semploy?”“Never.”
“You’restillworkinguptheCorporationsCommissioncase!Youtrickedme.”
ThetraceofasmilemoderatedBell’ssternfeatures.“Youarenotfamiliarwithdetectiveaffairs,Mr.Rockefeller.It’smyjobtotricksuspects.Infact...youcouldcallitahabit.”
Rockefeller’seyesflickeredasifheweretryingtorecallhowmuchinformationhehadgiven
away.Butwhenhespoke,allhesaidwas,“Howlongwilltheseguardsprotectme?”
“Untilyoufeelsafe.”“HowwillIeverfeelsafe
fromthatmurderer?”“Youwillfeelsafewhen
heishanged.”“Whatmakesyousosure
hewillbe?”“AnotherVanDornhabit.
Wenevergiveup.”Truetoform,JohnD.
Rockefellerdidthe
unexpected.Helaughed.“That’sagoodone.”Hethrustouthishand.“Ipreferfriendshipsfoundedonbusiness.I’mgladwe’vedonebusiness,Mr.Bell.”
—ThegrimatmosphereintheVanDornDetectiveAgency’sNewYorkfieldofficeremindedIsaacBellofthenightriotsbrokeoutin
Baku.“Himself”wasbackintown,JosephVanDorn,hulkinglikeabad-temperedsphinxinthebackofthebullpenwhereBell,whohadjustracedfromtheferrypier,hadsummonedhisassassinsquadtobringhimuptodate.
ArchieAbbottlookedmiserableandwassportingablackeye.TheanxiousglanceshekeptshootingatVanDorntoldBellthatArchiehadlearnednothing
abouttheArmydeserterwhowonthePresident’sMedal.
GradyForrer,directingheadofthegunsmithhunt,waswatchingVanDornasiftheBosswerearotundcobra.
WallyandMacktypicallywerenotintimidated;theoldguyshadknownVanDorntoolongandtheself-satisfiedWeber&FieldsgrinsontheirgnarlyfacesgaveBellhope.Theylookedmoreconfidentthantheirgrasping-at-straws
cablereportaboutSpikeHopewell’sso-calledtricksuphissleeve.Maybegoodnews.
BellglancedatVanDornandsteppedoutthedoor.TheBosslumberedafterhim.
“What’sup?”“You’respookingmy
boys.”“Yourboysaren’t
delivering.”“Whydon’tyouletme
buyyouadrinkatthe
NormandieafterIstraightenthemout?”
Bellreturnedtothebullpenalone.
“WhenIleftforBaku,youwerepursuingvariousleadsontheArmysharpshooter,thegunsmithwhoimprovedtheassassin’sSavage99,theexhumationofAverellComstock’sbody,andthetricksthatSpikeHopewellclaimedtohaveuphissleeve.Thatnonews
awaitedmeinConstantinopleorBerlinorBremerhavenonmywayhomesuggestsunfruitfulpursuits.DidthesituationimprovewhileIsteamedacrosstheAtlantic?”
WallyandMackgrinned.Therestweresilent.
“Archie.How’dyoumakeoutwiththegeneral’sdaughter?”
“Nodice.”“Whogaveyouthe
shiner?”
“Shetookaswingatme.”“Why?”WallyKisleylaughed.
“Theyoungladytookinsult,misledthatPrinceton,here,wasromancingher.Justwhenthespooningshouldcommence,Princetonsayshehasbusinesswithherfather.”
Archiehunghishead.“Imisinterpretedhermotiveforinvitingmetovisitwhenhewasoutofthehouse.”
“Boom!”saidWally.
“Smackintheeye.”“WhenIwentbacktotry
again,thebutlersaidshewas‘notathome.’SowhatI’mthinking,Isaac,ismaybeit’stimeformetogetbacktoworkinChicago.Rosaniais—”
Bellsaid,“Writedownhernameandaddressforme.”
HeturnedtotheheadofVanDornResearch.“Grady.HowdidyoudowithDave
McCoart?”“We’veeliminatedevery
gunsmithinthecountryexceptfortwoinHartfordandoneinBridgeport.Butnoneofthosefellowshavepannedoutyet.”
“Noneofthemeverworkedona99?”
“Nonethatadmitit.I’mfairlyconvincedthattheHartfordgunsmithsareintheclear.Fairlyconvinced.ButthedetectiveIsentto
Bridgeport—aprettygoodcontractmanwe’veusedinConnecticut—wassuspicious.Buthecouldnotshaketheguy’sstory,andhewassmartenoughtobackoffbeforehetippedhishand.Itwillbeworthsendingaregularman.”
“I’llgo,”saidBell.“HowdidwedowiththeNewYorkcoroner?”
“Hewon’texhumeMr.Comstockwithoutacourt
order.Thecourtrefusedonlegalisticgroundsthatessentiallycamedowntothejudge’sbeliefthataneighty-three-year-oldshouldhavebeendeadanyway.”
“ButwhataboutMrs.McCloudinthefireandhersonintheriver?”
“ThejudgeexpressednofaithinthelikelinessofconnectionsjoiningtheFivePointsGang,theWestSideGophers,andtheStandard
OilTrust.”“Soundslikeweneed
anotherjudge.”“Thenextjudgeconcurred
withtheformer’sincredulity.”
BellturnedtoWeber&Fields.“WallyandMack,youlookpleasedwithyourselves.”
“Always,Isaac,always,”saidWally.
“It’shardnottobe,”saidMack,andthetwobrokeinto
Weber&Fieldsmode.“AveryprettygirlwhowaspromisedbyrefinerReedRiggsthathe...”
“...andthereforeshe...”
“...byextension...”Bellsaid,“Gents,I’m
losingpatiencewithyourantics.Whatdidyoufind?”
“...wouldberichsoon.”“Riggswasan
independentoilman,”saidBell.“Theyallthinkthey’ll
berichsoon.”“Notlikethis.Hetoldthe
girlthatacertainpartyhighlyplacedatStandardOilwasgoingto,quote,‘Pungleupbig.’Notonlywouldhegetabunchofmoney,hisrefinerywouldbeboughtwithStandardOilstock.”
“Whatcertainparty?”Bellasked.
“Shewouldn’tsay.”“Wouldn’torcouldn’t?”“Wouldn’t.”
“Whywouldthispartyshelloutbigmoney?”
“Blackmail.ThegirlsaidRiggshadsomethingbigonhim.”
“Whywouldhetellagirl?Whowasthisgirl?Wheredidtheymeet?”
“MissDee’sonNorthWichitaStreet,Wichita,Kansas,”saidMack.
“Arguablythefinest‘femaleboardinghouse’inthestate,”saidWally.
“Whichissayingalotforastatethat’shometoTopekaandKansasCity,”saidMack.
“Notthesortof‘ten-dollarparlorhouse’thelikesofmeandMackcouldaffordwithoutMr.VanDorncoveringourexpenses,”saidWally.“Butyouofthesilverspooncouldbefamiliarwithit.”
GradyForrerrumbleddeepanddangerouslyinhisbarrelchest,“Youare
reportingthatRiggsgotdrunkandbraggedtoaprettygirlinabrothel?Agirlwhoseincomedependsonkeepingyoutwohappy?”
MackFultonreturnedalookofice.“Listenclosely,youngfellow,andonedayyou’llgrowuptobeadetective,too.”HeturnedbacktoBell.“Theladydidn’tthinkRiggswasbragging.Shethoughthefeltguilty.Likeblackmailwasn’t
somethingRiggswoulddoifheweren’tpressedtothewall.Hewashavingsecondthoughtswhenhefellunderthetrain.”
“Areyousureabouther?”“Positive.Shedidnot
wanttotalk.”“Shewaskindofsweeton
Riggs,”saidMack.“How’dyougetherto
talk?”“Wehadtospendafull
weekatMissDee’s,”said
Mack.“Nevergaveup,”said
Wally.ArchieAbbottrolledhis
eyes.GradyForrerfurrowedhisbrow.IsaacBellsaid,“Butafteraweekshestillwouldn’ttellyouthenameatStandardOil?”
“Thatwouldbeajobforyoungermenthanweare,”saidMack.
“Archie,”saidBell.“GotoWichita.”
“Wichita?Sureyoudon’twanttogo,Isaac?”
“Getonthefastestmailtrain.WiremethesecondyouknowwhetherReedRiggswasblackmailingBillMatters...WallyandMack!GofindMatters’privaterailcar.”
“That’lltakeforever.”“BeforeMattersmakesit
backfromEurope.”Bellputonhishat,pulled
thebrimlowoverhiseyes,
andheadedoutthedoor.“Anyoneneedsme,I’llbeattheNormandie.”ItwastimetotapthedeepwelloftheBoss’sexperiencewithcriminalsandtheircrimes.
—TheNormandieHotel’sground-floorbaratBroadwayand38thcateredtoout-of-townsalesmenandthewholesalerswhosewarehouse
loftsoccupiedtheWest30ssidestreetsoffthehoteldistrict.JosephVanDorn’scornertablecommandedtheroom,thelongbar,andthesteadilyswingingsaloondoors.Onthetablestoodabottleofwhiskeyandtwoglasses.Operatinginaffable-businessmanmode,peeringaboutbenignly,thefounderofthedetectiveagencycouldbemistakenforatopsalesman,a“commission
man”whopaidhisownexpenses.
“IfRiggswasblackmailingMatters,andifSpike’sso-calledtrickuphissleevewastoblackmailMatters,doesthrowingJohnD.RockefellerofftheOrientExpressmakehimourassassin?”heaskedBell.
“Matterswassittinginthesameauto,threefeetaway,whentheassassinshotmeinBaku.”
“Hecouldhavestagedit.Paidariflemantoshoot,pretendinghewastheassassin.”
“Thatcouldexplainwhyhemissedaneasyshot,”Bellsaid.“Butno,they’renotthesameman.Mattersisthemastermind,nottheassassin.”
“IfIwereyou,”saidVanDorn,“IwouldworrylessaboutMattersthantheassassin.”
“BillMatterswasgrippedbyakillingrage,”saidIsaacBell.“IguaranteehewillmakehiswayhomefromEuropeandattackagain.”
VanDornshookhishead.“Mattersisabusinessmanontherun,notexactlyhisstrength.Theassassinisoperatinginaworldhe’schosen.”HesplashedBushmillsinboththeirglasses.“Don’tyoufinditcuriouswehaven’tcaught
him?”“Yet,”saidBell.“Thiskillerhastaken
everychanceinthebook,”saidVanDorn.“Shootinghisvictimsinbroaddaylight.Shootinginpublicplaces.Stagingelaboratescenarios—theWashingtonMonumentmonkeyshinewaspositivelybyzantine.”
“ClydeLapham.”“Buthardlyasingular
eventifyouconsiderhis
shooting-ducktrickandthekillingsofReedRiggsandthepoorfellowwhofellintheoilvat.”
“AlbertHill.”“Nottomentionthat
womanwhoburnedtodeath.”“MaryMcCloud.”“Andstillwehaven’t
caughthim.Eitherheistheluckiestdevilaliveorwearethesorriestdetectivesalive.”
“There’sanotherpossibility,”saidBell.
“What’sthat?”“He’snotafraidofgetting
caught.”“Ifhebelievesthat,”said
VanDorn,“heiscrack-brainedandweshouldhavehangedhimlongago.Thereisno‘perfectcrime.’Andcertainlynostringofperfectcrimes.Nomatterhowcraftilytheyplan,thingsgowrongandcriminalsgetcaught.”
“Thiskillerisnotafraid.
He’slikethedrunkwhofallsdownbutdoesn’tgethurt;nevertightensup,justlandssoftinaheap.”
“Maybehe’snotafraidbecausehe’snuts.”
Bellsaid,“Ifhe’snuts,he’saveryslicknuts.Nothingfazeshim.Heneverpanics.Justchangescourseandslidesawaylikemercury.”
“Hewouldnotbethefirstmurdererwithouta
conscience.Coulditsimplybethathe’snotafraidbecausehedoesn’tfeelguilty?”
“Orcan’timaginegettingcaught.”
“Delusionsofgrandeur?”“It’salmostasifhe’s
enjoyinghimself.”VanDorn’seyes
narrowedatthesightofawell-dressedgentlemanwhopushedthroughtheswingingdoors.Heshotaglance
acrossthebusybarroomatthefloormanager.ThefloormanagerfollowedVanDorn’swarningnod,belatedlyrecognizedthenewarrivalforthetypeofgrifterwhopreyedonout-of-towncustomers,andguidedhimouttothesidewalk.
VanDornsaid,“Iwanttoknowwhytheassassintakessuchchances.Amongothers,helefthisrifle—auniqueweapon.Anyprogresstracing
it?”“I’mabouttointerviewa
gunsmiththeboysfoundinBridgeport.”
“Tookthemlongenough.”Bellleapedtohispeople’s
defense.“Theyinvestigatedeighty-fourgunsmithsacrossthecontinent.”
“Iwasnotawarethereweresomany.I’vebeenstuckinWashington.”
Bellsaid,“Iftheassassinisnotafraid,maybehewants
togetcaught.”VanDornsnortedlikea
walrus.“Subconsciously?You’vebeenreadingthatVienneseblather...Youknow,”headdedafteramomentofreflection,“thereissuchathingasluck.Luckisreal.Forawhile.Sofar,he’sbeenlucky.”
“He’spushedhisluckeverykill.”
“You’vebeenlucky.Thismanwhohadhitadimeat
sevenhundredyardshasmissedyouthreetimes.Whydoeshemissyou?”
IsaacBellgrinned.“Maybehelikesme.”
VanDorndidnotlaughbutansweredsoberly,“Hewon’tmissifyouevermanagetoputhisbacktothewall.”
“WhenIdo,Iwon’tmisseither.”
Theunderageprobationaryapprentice
EddieTobinslippedquietlythroughthesaloondoors.VanDorngaveabrisknodandtheboyapproached.“MessagefromMr.WarrenforMr.Bell.”
Bellslitopenthesealedenvelopeandreadquickly.
“TellMr.WarrenIsaidgoodworkandthankyou.”
Tobinleftasunobtrusivelyashehadarrived.
BellsaidtoVanDorn,
“BillMattersmadeitbacktoNewYork.”
“What?How’dhegethereasfastasyoudid?”
“TheKaiserWilhelmholdstheBlueRiband.”
“Hewasonyourship?”“AccordingtoHarry
Warren,”Bellanswered,facegrim.
“Youneversawhim?Wherewashehiding?Steerage?”
“IhadRockefeller
persuadethepursertoshowmethemanifests.Iwalkedtheshipnightandday.IcheckedeverymaninFirstClass,Second,anddouble-checkedSteerage.”
“Didhestowaway?”“Hedidbetterthanthat,
accordingtoHarryWarren.Hewrangledajobontheblackgang.Sneakedacrosstheoceanshovelingcoalintheship’sboilersfivedecksundermynose.”
“Resourceful.”Suspicioncaromed
throughBell’smind.HadEdnaandNelliebroughthimdecentfoodorvisitedhimorlethimrestintheircabin?NotlikelyonastrictlyrunGermanliner.Theyallowednominglingoftheclasses,muchlesspassengersandcrew.
“Igatherfromyourexpression,”saidVanDorn,“thatHarryWarrendidn’t
arrestMr.Matters.”“Mattersbraineda
customsguardwhospottedhimsneakingofftheship.HarryWarrencaughtwindofit,tracedhimtotheblackgang,wherehegotadescriptionfromtheengineers,andputtwoandtwotogether.”
“Sohe’ssomewhereinNewYork.”
“Orboardingatraingoinganywhereinthecountry.”
Bellstoodfromthetable.“IbetterwarnWishjustincasehe’sheadedtoCleveland.”
“Doyouthinkhe’lltakeanothershotatRockefeller?”
“He’shadaweektostewwhileshovelingcoalinahundred-ten-degreestokehold.Andheknowswe’llcatchhimintheend.He’llwanttowreakmoredamagethankillingoneman.”
“Wantinganddoingare
twodifferentthings.LikeIsaid,Mattersisabusinessmanontherun.Evenifhe’samastermind,beingontherunmakeshimafishoutofwater.”
“Untilhejoinsupagainwithhispersonalassassin.”
I33
saacBellknewthegreatindustrialcityofBridgeportwell,having
gonedowntocollegeinnearbyNewHaven.BridgeporthadprovidedYalestudentscarousinggroundsbeyondthelongarmofthechaplain.Morerecently,he
hadboughthisLocomobileatthecompany’sBridgeportfactory.
HeparkedthebigredautoinfrontoftheZimmerman&Brassardgunshop.ThepartnersZimmermanandBrassardhadlongsinceretiredonfortunesmadefromtheCivilWar,leavingtheshoptoatalentedapprenticewiththebusinessacumentoretainthefamousnamethatwassetabovethedoorin
gunmetalletters.Hewasmiddle-agedbynow,aslight,precisemanwithapencil-thinmustacheandwire-rimmedspectacles.
“Mr.Beitel?”askedBell.Beitelturnedfromthe
electriclathe,wherehewasworking,andnodded.Hewaswearingarmgarterstokeephisshirtsleevesabovehiswristsandafour-in-handnecktiesnuggedunderashopapron.Physically,he
appearedtheoppositeofthepowerfulDaveMcCoart,withoneexception:likeMcCoart,thecasuallyablemannerinwhichheheftedacutofftoolsaidhewasanartist,amanwhocouldalreadyseetheshapeofwhathewouldfashionfromthelengthofmetalstockthatwasturningonhislathe.
Hisworkshopwasasneatandpreciseashe.Ithadasturdybenchwithdrawers
andaliparoundthetoptokeepthingsfromrollingoff,severalvises,achestforsmalltoolsandparts,andaconvertedbedroombureauwithlargedrawers.Hehadjustopenedone,andBellsawpistolswaitingtoberepaired,sandpaper,abrasivecloth,andsteelwool.Therewasapowergrinderwithstonesandawirebrush,adrillpress,andanall-angledrillingviseformountingtelescopesights,
amotorsander,andthelongbenchlathewherehewasturningariflebarrel.
“Goodmorning,”saidBell.“IwasattheLocomobilefactory—ranintoalittletroubleonmywaytoHartford—andtheytoldmeyouwereaparticularlyfinegunsmith,soIfiguredI’dstoponmyway.Mycard.JethroSmith.”
“Hartford?”“Headoffice.Myterritory
isinOregon.”“WhotoldyouIwasa
finegunsmith?”“Oneofthe
mechanicians.”“Really.Doyoumindme
askingwhichone?”“Thefactorywasa
madhouse.They’reallexcitedabouttheNumber7autothey’reenteringintheVanderbiltCup.It’snextmonth,comingupsoon.”
“Oh,Iknow.Everyonein
Bridgeport’splanningtotaketheferryovertoLongIsland...Whichmechanicianwasitwhomentionedme?”
“Let’ssee...Hisname’sonthetipofmytongue.”Ithadbeenworththesix-hourdrivethroughcrowdedtownstogethisstorystraightattheautofactory.Hesnappedhisfingers.“Gary!Gary...Crisci.Knowhim?”
“GaryCrisci?Isuredo.
Thatis,Iknowofhim.Theysayhe’llbeNumber7’smechanician.He’satophand.I’mhonoredhe’sheardofme.What’syourinterestinguns,Mr.Smith?”
“Rifles.”“Areyouamarksman?”“Ishootintheoccasional
match,”Bellansweredmodestly.
“Where?”“Outwest.Oregon.My
territory.”
“Areyoulookingtobuyarifle?”
“Ineedatelescopemounted.”
Bellliftedhiscarpetbagontothecounterandopenedit.Hewatchedthegunsmith’sfaceashepulledouttheassassin’sSavage99andmethodicallyinsertedthebarrelintothechamber.
Thegunsmithwasnoactor.ButnoteventhegreatEdwinBoothcouldhidehis
feelingsiftheblooddrainedoutofhisfaceasitdidfromBeitel’s,andIsaacBellknewhehadhitpaydirtatlast.
—“Areyouallright,sir?”Bellaskedsolicitously.“Youlookpale.”
“It’swarminhere,”Beitelmurmured.
“Warmsubject,”saidBell.
Thegunsmithtookoffhisapronandfoldeditneatlyonachair.Bellextendedtherifle.BeitelappearedtoshrinkbeforeBell’seyes.Buthetookthegun,cradleditamoment,andlaiditonthecounter.ThenheturnedaroundasifBellweren’tthereandfacedhislathe.Hepickedupacutofftool,fittedittothetoolrest,andpressedthebittothestockturningonthemachine.Hishandswere
shaking.Sparksflewwherethetoolgroovedthemetal.
Themotorwhinedasheadjustedaswitchlever,graduallyincreasingthespeedtotwohundredrevolutionsperminute.
Helookedupfromtheworkandgazedslowlyabouttheshop.
“Ilovethis,”hesaid,addressingBelloverhisshoulder.
IsaacBellspokevery
gently.“Icannotpromise,butitispossiblethatthiscouldworkoutinsuchawaythatyoucouldkeepyourshop.Ifyouhelpmefindtheassassinforwhomyoualteredthisweapon.”
“Theassassin?”Thegunsmithbentcloser
totheworkasifseekingrefugeinafamiliartask.Heseemedsorattled,hedidn’tnoticehisloosenecktiedanglingclosetotheturning
stock.“Carefulofyourtie,”said
Bell.Beitelwhispered,“Ilove
h—”“Whatdidyousay?”“Gotohell!”IsaacBellvaultedoverthe
counter.HewastwelveinchesfromthemanwhenBeiteldeliberatelylethistietouchtherapidlyturningstock.Itgrabbedthecloth,whichwrappedaroundit
fasterthantheeyecouldsee,andjerkedhimdownhardonthelathe.Hisneckbrokewithaloud,drysnap.
Bellswitchedoffthemachine.HehungBeitel’sCLOSEDsigninthewindow,loweredthefrontshades,andsearchedtheshopthoroughly.Whenhewasdone,hetelephonedthepolice.“Itlookslikethere’sbeenanaccident.”
—“I’vegotatoughoneforyou,Grady,”IsaacBellsaidwhenhetelephonedForrerlong-distancefromtheBridgeporttrainstation.
“Howtough?”“Theassassin’stelephone
number.”Beitel’sdeathhadbeenno
accident,andtheassassintowhomBeitelhadbeenso
loyalthathehadkilledhimselfinsteadofbetrayinghimhadleftnosignofhisidentityatZimmerman&Brassard.ButBeitelhadnottrustedhismemoryandhadhiddenonthebackofasheetofsandpaperatelephonenumberwrittensominutelythatBellneededamagnifyingglasstoreadit.
BellreadittoForrer.“TheBridgeportoperatorsdon’tknowit.Idon’twantto
telephoneuntilIknowwhowillanswerandwhereheis.”
“Itcouldtakeawhile.”“I’llbeattheSageGun
Companyintwohours.Ifyoudon’tknowbythen,wiremecareofWashingtonwhenyoudo.AndpassitstraighttoArchie,andWeber&Fields,WishClarke,andTexasWalt.”
BellshippedhisLocomobilebacktoNewYorkinafreightcarand
bookedthefirsttraintoGrandCentral.HurryingacrossManhattantotheferrytoNewJersey,hestoppedattheSageGunCompanyonWest43rd,whereheopenedhiscarpetbagandhandedDaveMcCoarttheSavage99andanarrowfelt-linedbox.McCoartremovedalong,finelymachinedsteeltubeandwhistled.“Where’dyougetthis?”
“Theassassin’s
gunsmith.”“Youcan’tbuyabetter
telescopethanWarner&Swasey.”
BellhandedhimtheSavage99.“Mountitonthis,please.”
“I’llgetrighttoit.”“IfoundBeitel’s
notebook.”Itwasboundinblack
leather.Thepageswerefilledwithdrawingsandformulaswritteninaprecise,artistic
hand.“Turntotheend,lastfour
pages.”McCoartreadslowlyand
carefully,tracingdrawingswithabluntfinger.
“What’sheupto?”askedBell.
“Ithinktheguyisdesigninganexplodingbullet.”
“Likeanartilleryshell?”“Inprinciple.Butaheck
ofalotsmaller.Imean,this
couldbechamberedina.303.”HeglancedupatBell.“LikethisSavage...”
“Doyouthinkitwillwork?”
“Ifhe’sabletoexecutewhathe’sdrawn,yes.Judgingbyhisqualityworkonthis”—McCoartassembledtheSavage’schamberandbarrelwithaflickofhiswristandbrokeitdownasswiftly—“themanisvery,verygood.”
Hescannedthedrawingsagain.
“Grislyimagination.Anearmisswithoneofthesewouldnotbeamiss.Asfora‘fleshwound,’callthegravediggers.”
“Morelikely,theassassin’simagination.”
“Didhehappentosayhowfarhe’sgottenwithit?”
“He’sdead.Hislathegrabbedhistie.Brokehisneck.”
“Damnedfoolwearingatiearoundalathe.”
“Hemeanttokillhimself.”
“There’sloyalty,foryou,”saidMcCoart.HehandedBellbackthenotebook.“Well,atleasthe’snotgoingtofinishthisawfulthing.”
“Ireckonhealreadyhas.”“Didyoufindany
fulminateofmercury?”“Plenty.”“Didyoufindany
cartridges?”“Therearenoneinthe
shop.”“Hopefully,hewasstill
experimenting.”“I’mnotcountingon
that,”saidIsaacBell.“Didhesayanything?”“Hesaidhewasinlove.”“Inlove?Andhekilled
himself?Areyougoingtotalktoher?”
“Icouldn’thearhername.”
—Likemostupper-crustbrothels,MissDee’sten-dollarparlorhouseonNorthWichitaStreetwasahangoutforpoliticiansandprosperousbusinessmen.ComparedtoNewYorkorChicago,itssettingwaslessthanglamorous,onastreetborderedbyalumberyard,ablacksmith,afoundry,gas
storagetanks,andtenements.Wichita,thoughtArchie,
whereexpectationsweremodest.
“Comerightin,”themadamgreetedhimwarmly.Wealthilydressedmenmadegoodcustomers.Handsome,wealthycustomerswithexquisitemannerswereararetreasure.Sheremarkedthatshehadnotseenhimbefore.ArchiesaidhewasnotfromKansas.Shesaidthatshewas
notsurprisedandaskedwhatinparticularshecoulddoforhim.
“WoulditbepossibletomaketheacquaintanceofayoungladynamedJane?”
“Verypossible,wehaveseveralJanes.”
ArchiedrewonMackandWally’sdescription.“Janeofhairasredasmineandeyeslikelapislazuli.”
“ThatJane.”“Isshestillhere?”
“Stillhere,”themadamsaidgrimly.
“Youdon’tsoundpleased,”saidArchie.
“She’stoughonthebusiness.Theoldgeezersfallhardforher.Oneofthesedays,fisticuffsinmyparlorwillendinaheartattack.”
“IhopeI’llbeimmune,”saidArchie.
“Frankly,”saidthemadam,“Ihopeyoufallsohard,youtakeherhomewith
you...”
—ArchiepoppedthequestiononthetraintoChicago,acitythattheroundandbright-eyedJanetoldhimshehadalwayswantedtovisit.Archiehadpromisedapaidvacationandashoppingtrip(atVanDornexpense).IfMr.VanDornbalked,hewouldhitIsaacupforthedough.
Anyluck,Jane’sgratitudewouldmaterializeasthenameofherdeadadmirer’sblackmailvictim.Bestofall,whileinChicagohecouldsinkhisteethbackintotheRosaniacase.
ArchiewaiteduntiltheywerehighballingoutofSt.LouisbeforeheaskedaboutReedRiggs.Jane’slapislazulieyesdarkened,turningasad,stonyblue.
“Reedwasagoodman.A
gentlikeyou,Archie.Notfancylikeyou,butagentinhisheart.That’swhyhecouldn’tfollowthrough.Hewasnoblackmailer.Itjustseemedlikeagoodideatosavehisrefinery,butwhenpushcametoshovehecouldn’tdoit.”
“Didheeveractuallyapproachthevictim?”
“HetoldmehewenttoNewYorkandtalkedtohim.”
“At26Broadway?”Archieaskedcasually.
JanelaidaplumphandonthebackofArchie’s.“Stayagent,Archie.Don’ttrytotrickme.”
Archiesaid,“IunderstandthatyouwouldneverdishonorReedRiggs’memorybybetrayingthenameofthemanhedecidednottoblackmail.ButwhatifItoldyouthatthemanwethinkitwasjusttriedtokill
JohnD.Rockefeller?”Janesaid,“Mostpeople
wouldthinkhehadaprettygoodidea.”
“AndifItoldyouthatwesuspecthekilledMr.Riggs?”
“Reeddiedinanaccident.”
“Itispossibleitwasnotanaccident.”
“Canyouprovethat?”“Icannotproveitwas
murder,”Archieadmitted,“thoughwehaveapretty
goodideahowthekillerdidit.”
Janelookedoutthewindow.Herbeautifuleyeshadrecoveredtheirnaturalcolorandherspiritshadrisen.Itwascheerfulnessthatthegeezersfellfor,Archieguessed,asmuchasherroundshape.“Archie,whatyoujustsaidringstrue.WhenReeddied,heleftmetheonlythinghepossessed.Hisdecency.Ihatetothinkofthe
poormandyinginfear.Whentheytoldmehefellunderthetrain,Idecidedhehadfainted.”
Archiesaid,“Ifhewaskilledthewaywebelievehewas,heneverknewwhathithim,orevensawitcoming.Onemomenthewasalive,thenexthewasnot.”
“Howcanyouknowthat?”
Archiedescribedindetailtheassassin’sshootingperch
thatheandIsaacBellhaddiscoveredinaFortScotttrainyard.
JaneturnedfromthewindowandtouchedArchie’scheek.Theconductorpassingthroughthecarnotedtheirredhairandhissternfacebrokeintoasmileashewondered,motherandsonofftoChicago?Morelikely,maidenauntandherfavoritenephew.
“Iwillspeakonename
aloud,”saidArchie.“Onlyone.Canyoupleasenodifhe’sthemanReedchangedhismindaboutblackmailing?”
“Partofmewantstocovermyears.”
“Noneed,”saidArchie.“Iwon’tsayhisnameuntilyouagree.”
“Istillwanttocoverthem.”
“Iwillsaythis.IfitiswhoIthinkitis,thenIcan
guaranteethatReeddiedjustasIdescribedandneverfeltathing.”
ShelookedathimandbelievedhimandArchieexulted.Jackpot!
B34
etyouaduckIcanhitfourinarow.”
“Betaduck?Whatareyoutalkingabout?”
“IfIhitfourducks,”saidtheassassin,“yougivemeone.”
ItwastoohottostrollattheHudsonCountyFair—
ninety-fivedegreesevenafterdark.Themidwaywasdesertedexceptforicecreamstandsandanenterprisingkidsellingchipsoficetopresstosweatyforeheads.Theheatmadepeoplecranky,andtheowneroftheshootinggallery,whoseparadeofmovingduckshadattractednogunfireforhours,wasinnomoodforjokers.
“Youhittheduck,youwinaprize.Youwinacigar
—ifyou’reoldenoughtosmoke’em.”Hepeereddubiouslyattheshort,slightboyishfigureleaningonthecounter.“Oryougetadog.”Hepointedataplasterbulldogpaintedblue.“Youhittheduckfourtimes,youwinateddybearforyourgirl—ifyougotone.Theduck’sthetarget.Youdon’twinthetarget.”
“AfraidI’llhitfour?”“Youwon’thitthree.”
“Fortheduck.”Theassassindroppeda
nickelonthecounterforfiveshotsandfiredthreesoquickly,therifleboltseemedtoblur.Threemovingducksfelldownandpoppedup.Theownernudgedahiddenleverandtheparadespeededup.
Theassassinsmiled,“Fasterwon’tsaveyou,”firedagain,andhitafourth,thenshiftedslightlysothatthebarrelangledinthegeneral
directionofthemanwhoownedthestand.“DoIhaveanyleft?”
“One.”“Givememyduck.”
—AbutlerwearingtheuniformofaUnitedStatesArmyorderlyshowedIsaacBellintoareceptionroomoffthefrontfoyeroftheMillsmansiononDupontCircle.
BrigadierMills’daughter,Helen,waseverybit“thelooker”Archiehadmadeherouttobe—atall,leanbrunettewithlongarms,demandingbrowneyes,andanintriguinglylowvoice.
Bellwentstraightather.“Itisapleasuretomeetaladywithafamouslefthook.”
ApuzzledHelenMillsarchedbothhereyebrows.
“ShouldIduck?”asked
Bell.“I’mafriendofArchieAbbott.”
ShelookedIsaacBellover,inspectinghimclosely.“Onlyifthelousesentyoutoapologize.”
“Icameonmyown.”“AreyouonMr.Abbott’s
mission?”“Mr.Abbottwasonmy
mission.Andtobestraightwithyou,it’syourfather,BrigadierMills,Imustmeet.”
“Whatisthematterwith
youmenfromNewYork?Whydon’tyoujustcallatmyfather’soffice?Hisbarkisworsethanhisbite.Heisactuallyquiteapproachable.”
“Notonthissubject.Itisdeeplypersonal.”
“Atleastyou’rehonestaboutit.Archiewasmisleading.”
“Tobefairtomyold,oldfriend,”saidBell,“wemustassumethatwhenArchielaideyesonyou,hewassweptoff
hisfeetandthereforenotoperatingathisbest.”
Shedidnotappeartodislikecompliments.SheinspectedBellsomemoreandsmiledasifshelikedwhatshesaw.“I’llmakeyouadeal,DetectiveBell.Stayforlunch.Ifyou’restillherewhenmyfathergetshome,I’llintroduceyou.”
“Whattimedoeshegetin?”
“Wedinelate.”
“Youdriveahardbargain,”saidIsaacBell,“buthowcanIresist?”ItoccurredtohimthatifEdnaMatterswasn’twhirlinginhisbrain,andNellieMattersnotpirouettingontheedges,hemighthalfhopethattheArmywouldpostHelen’sfathertoIndianTerritoryfortheweekend.
Helen’saltovoicemadehersoundolderthanArchiehadreportedshewas.Much
older.SheturnedouttobeagirlstartinghersecondyearatBrynMawrCollege.Sheadmittedoverlunchtobeingatlooseendsaboutherfuture.Butonethingforsure,shetoldBell.Shewasdeterminedtodomorethanmarryandraisechildren.
BelldiscoveredthatnewspaperwomanE.M.HockandsuffragistNellieMatterswereheroestoHelenandherclassmates;thathe
knewbothwomenmadehimalmostasheroicinhereyes.Heofferedadvice,andbeforeherfathergothome,hehadconvincedhertoaimherstudiestowardacareerevenbolderthanEdna’sandNellie’s.
BrigadierGeneralG.TannenbaumMillshadfatheredyoungHelenatalateage.Short,wide,andstiff-necked,helookedoldenoughtobehergrandfatherbutwas
infactasvigorousasalonghorn,andasornery.Helenmadehimacocktail,andatherurgingheinvitedBellintohisstudy.Thewallswerehungwithswords,duelingpistols,andBowieknives.
BellfoundittoughgoingtryingtoconvincetheoldmossbackthathangingamurdererwasmoreimportantthanshieldingtheArmyfromtheembarrassmentofayears-
agodesertion.Millsrepeatedhisargumentinavoicetrainedtobeheardoverthethunderofacavalrycharge.“TheArmyisamorefragileinstitutionthancivilianssuppose.Reputationisall.Tosufferablackeyeanddeliverthatblackeyetothepresidentis—”
“LieutenantK.K.V.Casey,”IsaacBellinterrupted.
“What?”
“PrivateHowardH.Gensch...SergeantClarenceOrr.”
“Whyareyou—?”“Theyaremarksmen.”“Iknowthat!”“LieutenantCaseywon
thePresident’sMedalin1903.PrivateGenschwonthePresident’sMedallastyear.SergeantOrrwonthisyear.”
“Whyareyoubandyingtheirnames?”
“SurelytheUnitedStates
Armyisn’tashamedofsuchmarksmen.”
“WhatdotheyhavetodowithPrivateJones?”
“That’swhatI’maskingyou,sir.NeitherLieutenantCasey,PrivateGensch,norSergeantOrrarePrivateBillyJones.Giveyoursoldierstheirdueandhelpmehangakiller.”
“How?”Millsgrowled.“Haveyoueverheardofa
StandardOilexecutivenamed
BillMatters?”Millsputdownhisglass.
“Iwonderedifyouwouldask.”
“Youknowofhim?”“Oh,yes.”IsaacBellleanedcloser,
whichputtheveteranofficerinmindofacougarabouttolandonhimwithallfourfeet.“Tellmehow.”
“WhenweinvestigatedBillyJones’desertion,”Millssaid,“wediscoveredcertain
itemstheboyhadleftbehindthatwewereabletotrace—orsowethought.Iwent,personally,tothemanthatourinvestigationrevealedwasverylikelyBillyJones’father.ThathissonhaddisappearedaroundthetimethatPrivateJonesjoinedtheArmyseemedtocinchit.”
“What‘item’didheleavebehind?”
“Ticketstubsfromanoperahouse.Shakespeare
shows.WetracedthemtoOilCity,Pennsylvania.”
“BillMatterslivedinOilCity.HeraisedhisdaughterstherebeforehemovedtoNewYork.”
“Hestillmaintainedahomein’02.ForallIknow,stilldoes.Anyway,IfoundhiminOilCity.”
“Whydidyougopersonally?”
“Iwouldnotputtheofficersundermeinthe
positionofoffendingapowerfulmanwhomightwellhavehadnoconnectionwiththedeserterotherthanthefacthewasgrievingforamissingsonwhohadrunoffbackin’98toenlistforthewar.”
“WasthemarksmanBillMatters’son?”
BrigadierMillslookedIsaacBellintheeyeandBellfounditeasytoimaginehimasayoungofficerleadinghis
menintoastormoflead.“I’mnotproudofthis,”hesaid,“butitwasmyjobtocoverthingsup.IwenttoMatters’house.Ispokewithhiminprivate.Hewasalonethere.Ifoundhimsittinginthedark.Mourningtheboy.”
“In’02?Butthatwasyearsafterhedisappeared.”
“Hestillmournedhim.Ipromisedthatnothingwediscussedwouldleavetheroom.Imademycase.The
cross-grainedSOBrefusedtobelieveme.Hewascertain—deadcertain—thatthemarksmanwasnothismissingson.”
Bellsaid,“Detectivesrunintosimilardenialsbytheparentsofcriminals.”
Thegeneral’sanswerwasuncharacteristicallyroundabout.“I’veledmenmywholelife,Bell.Gettysburg.Thewest.Cuba.ThePhilippines.Icanreadmen.I
knowwhatthey’rethinkingbeforetheydo.BillMatterswastellingthetruth!ThemarksmanBillyJoneswasnothisboy.”
“Andyet?”Bellasked.“Andyetwhat?”Mills
firedback.“AndyetIsenseyour,
shallwesay,disquiet?Ifnotdoubt?”
Angered,Millslookedaway.Hestaredathiscollectionofweapons.He
hesitated,faceworking,asifhewasdebatingthemeritsofshootingBellversusrunninghimthrough.Finally,hespoke.
“Maybeyoureadmen,too.You’reright.Somethingwasoffthere.Idon’tknowwhat,butsomethingwaswayoff,out-of-kilter.”
“What?”“BillMattersknewthat
hisboywasnotthemarksman.Buthewasnot
surprisedthatIhadcomecalling.”
“Whatdoyoumean?”“Hewasnotsurprisedthat
IhadconnectedhimtothemarksmanwhowonthePresident’sMedalof1902.Evenashesatthereinthedarkdenyingthetheaterstubswerehis.”
“Maybetheyweren’t.”“Ifoundhiminaback
parlor.Herefusedtoleavetheroomorturnonthelights.
Sowetalkedinthedark.MyeyesadjusteduntilIsawthattheroomwasfilledwithtoytheaters.YouknowwhatImean?”
“Paperstagesets.YoucanbuytheminNewYorktheaters.”
“Hisparlorwasfullofthem.Buthesattheresteadfastlydenyingthatthetheaterstubswerehis.”
Bellsaid,“YouseemedtobesuggestingthatMatters
knowswhothedeserteris.”“Iamnot‘suggesting,’I
amtellingyouthatMattersknewbeyonddoubtthatthemarksmanwhodesertedwasnothismissingboy.”
“Why?”askedBell.“Howcouldheknow?”
“Eitherheknewexactlywherehismissingboywasin1902thedayBillyJoneswonthePresident’sMedalor—”
“Orheknowsthemarksman,”saidIsaacBell.
Thebrigadiersaid,“Inmyfirmopinion,thedeserterwasnothisboy.Heissomeoneelse.”
IsaacBellwastumblingpossibilitiesinhismindwhenheheardtheoldgeneralsay,“Andnow,sir,whatareyourdesignsonmydaughter?”
“Helen?I’vealreadyproposedanoffer.”
“Proposed?Thegirlisbarelyeighteen.She’sgotcollegeaheadofher.”
“ImadeeveryefforttoconvinceherandsheagreedtoapplyforanapprenticeshipattheVanDornDetectiveAgencyassoonasshegraduates.”
“Whatthedevilmakesyouthinkmydaughtercouldbeadetective?”
“Helen’sgotameanlefthook...Couldwegobacktoreadingmen,sir?...Ibelievesomethingisstillonyourmind.Somethingyou’ve
leftunsaidaboutthemarksman.”
Millsnodded.“It’sonlyspeculation.Ican’tofferproof.”
“I’dstillliketohearit.”“I’dbetmoneythat
Matterswasshieldinghim.”
A35
reyousureyouwanttoblowthisalltosmithereens?”asked
theassassin.“SureasIknowmy
name,”saidBillMatters.Theywerestandingoutof
sightofthestreetinaglassedwidow’swalkontheroofof
TheHooksaloonfivestoriesabovetheStandardOilConstableHookrefinery’sfrontgate.Originallyerectedbyaseacaptainwhomadehisfortuneinwhaleoil,thewidow’swalkwasfestoonedwithwoodenspiresandelaboratebronzelightningrodsfashionedlikeharpoons.Matterswassafehereforawhile,evenwithIsaacBellclosingin,forheownedthesaloonlock,stock,andbarrel.
Hecouldseethegut-churningproofthattherefineryhadprosperedjustasheandSpikeHopewellhaddreameditwouldwhentheybuiltthefirststageontheneckoflandthatthrustintoNewYorkHarbornorthofStatenIsland.Afterstealingit,theStandardhadenlargeditrepeatedlyonthesamelinestheyhadsurveyed.Orderlyrowsoftanksandstillscoveredthehillycape.
Seagoingtanksteamerslinedupattheoildocks.Andthevillagehadgrowntheselastsixyearsfromaraucousboomtownintoajam-packedcityoftenementsandfactories,shops,churches,andschools—hometotwentythousandworkersandtheirwivesandchildren.
Theassassinsweptbinocularsfromthebiggestnaphthatankacrossthecityandupthetank-coveredhill
tothetopofthetallestStandardOilfirecompanytower,thenbackdowntheslope,overtherooftops,andbacktothenaphthatank,whichtheredduckmarkedforabull’s-eye.
Theheathadintensifiedandthehumidityhadthickened.Old-timerswerecomparingittothedeadlytemperaturesof’96,eventheheatwaveof’92thatkilledthousandsintheseaboard
cities.Itwasstiflinginsidethewidow’swalk,andtheheatshimmeredsoviolentlyfromthetanksthateverythingseemedtobeinmotion.Itwouldtakeeveryounceoftheassassin’sskilltocalculatehowitwouldbendtheflightofabullet.
“Wouldyouconsiderdisappearinginstead?”
“Ihavedisappeared.Idon’tlikeit.”
“WhatifIweretoshoot
Rockefeller?”“No!Donotkillhim.I
wanthimtoseethisdestroyed.”
“He’llbuildagain.”“He’llbetoolate.I
investedinrefineriesatPhiladelphiaandDelawareandBostonandTexas.WhenI’veblownConstableHookoffthemap,I’llcontrolseaboardproduction.Iwanthimtoseethat,too.”
Thiswasstartling
information.Itwasalsodeeplydisconcerting,fortobesurprisedwastoadmitaseverelapseinthesharpawarenessthatmadeahunterahunterinsteadofprey.BillMatterswasreinventinghimself.Butthishadn’thappenedyesterday;he’dbeenreinventingallalong.
“You’relikeRockefeller,”theassassinmarveled.
BillMatterslaughed.“Masteroftheunexpected.”
“Thenyou’lldisappear?”“ToEurope...instyle.”“MayIcomewithyou?”“Ofcourse,”Matterssaid
withouthesitation.“I’llkeepyoubusy.I’mnotretiring,onlystartingover.”
—Movementinthestreetbelowcaughttheassassin’seye.Astrongmaninoverallswasrollingawoodenspoolof
coppercable.Hedisappearedbelowtheoverhangoftheroofasherolleditintothealleythatledtothebackofthesaloon.
Mattersasked,“Whatthedevilisthat?”
“Copperwire.”“Icanseethat.Where’s
hetakingit?”“Thecellar.”“Howdoyouknow?”“It’sforme.”BillMatterslookedhard
athisassassin.“Nowwhatgameareyouplaying?”
“Theunexpected.JustlikeRockefeller.OrshouldIsay,justlikeyou.”
“Whatgame?”“Fastandloose.”“Withwhom?”“IsaacBell.”
—Heatlightningflickeredrepeatedlyunderasullen
midnightsky.Guninhand,IsaacBell
approachedBillMatters’privaterailcaronfoot.ItwasparkedonaremoteSawMillRivervalleysidingofthePutnamDivisiontwentymilesfromNewYorkCityandlessthantenfromJohnD.Rockefeller’sPocanticoHillsestate.
Bellignoredthesweatburninghiseyesandmosquitoswhiningaroundhis
ears.Hewalkedonthewoodencrosstiessoasnottocrunchontherailbedballast.Buttheflashesfromdistantstormsthreatenedtogivehimaway.
VanDornResearchhadtracedthetelephonenumberBellhadfoundattheassassin’sgunsmithtotheprivatecarplatformatPittsburgh’sUnionStation.ThePittsburghfieldofficehadlearnedthatthetelephone
inBillMatters’carhadbeenconnectedtwiceinthepastsixmonthstothatplatform.WallyKisleyandMackFultonhadknownwhichNewYorkCentralRailroaddispatcherstobribetonaildownitscurrentlocationinWestchesterCounty.
Thedetectivesassignedtostandwatchfromadistancethoughttheyhadseenonefigureenterthecarhoursagojustafterdark.Theyhadseen
nooneleave.ResearchprocuredPullmanPalaceCarCompanyblueprintsofthecar’sfloorplan.Bellmemorizedthem,orderedthedetectivesoutofsight,andwentinalone.
Hesawasliveroflightshinethroughthecurtainsashedrewclose.Achimneystackbrokethesmoothrooflinesilhouettemarkingthegalleyanddiningroominthefrontofthecar.Those
windowsweredark,aswerethewindowsintherear.
Atfiftyfeetaway,heheardmusic.Attwenty,hecoulddistinguishthewordsofthehitsong“ComeTakeaTripinmyAirship”playingonagramophone.
ThetenorBillyMurraywasstartingthelastchorus.Bellsprintedforwardtotakeadvantageofthecoverbeforethecylinderranout.
Cometakeatripinmyairship.Cometakeasail’mongthestars.ComehavearidearoundVenus.ComehaveaspinaroundMars.
Heclimbedontotherearplatform.
Noonetowatchwhilewe’rekissing,
Noonetoseewhilewespoon,
Heopenedthedoor.Themusicgotlouder.
Cometakeatripinmyairship,Andwe’llvisitthemaninthemoon.
Hewasinside,backpressedtothedoorashecloseditquietly.Thiswastherearparlor,wheretheplush
velvetseatscouldbeconvertedtobeds.Heglidedforward,towardthelight,whichwasfilteredbyacurtain.Themusicwascomingfromthemiddlesection,whichthePullmanCompanyhadconfiguredforMattersasanoffice.
Suddenlyafigurepushedthroughthecurtain.
Bellslammedhisarmsarounditinavisegrip.
A36
shriekbroughtEdnaMattersburstingintothe
parlorwithher.410shotgun.ShesawBellandlowered
thegun.“ThankGod,it’syou.”ItwasNellieinBell’s
arms.Hecouldfeelherheartpoundingfearfully.Heletgo.
Shegatheredherselfwithrepeateddeepbreaths.
“Hello,Isaac.Wefiguredyou’dshowup.Youcouldhaveknocked.”
“Ourfatherisnothereandwedon’tknowwhereheis,”saidEdna.
“Wouldyoutellmeifyoudid?”
“No,Isaac.Wewouldnot.”
Nelliesaid,“Notuntilyouunderstandthatallhedidwas
blowupinanger.Thankstoyou,hedidn’tkillRockefeller.Yousavedhimfromcommittingaterriblecrimeinagripofrage.Nodamagewasdone.Wearegratefultoyouforthat.Butdoeshedeservejail,consideringallhesuffered?”
“WhathappensnexttimewhenI’mnottheretostophim?”
“Itwon’thappenagain.”“Willhisangerevaporate?
Idon’tthinkso.”“He’llgetoverit.He’snot
acold-bloodedkiller.”IsaacBellsaid,“He
preparedakillingfield.Heopenedthegangwayconnectors.HeluredRockefelleroutthere.Heplannedaheadoftimehowhewouldkillhim.Anyjurywillcallthatpremeditatedmurder.”
“It’sRockefeller’sfaultforcheatingthepoorman,”
Nellieshotback.“Fathermusthavehada
nervousbreakdown,”saidEdna.“ItallcomesbacktoRockefellerdrivinghimmad.”
“I’msorry,Edna,Nellie,butwhathedidinGermanywasmuchworsethan‘blowingupinanger.’”
“Wouldyouaccepthimbeingplacedinanasylum?”
“Lockedinanasylum.”“Wheretheywouldtreat
him,”Nelliesaideagerly.“Withdoctors.Andmedicine.”
“Maybelawyerscouldconvinceajudgeandjurytoseeitthatway,”saidBell,“particularlyifheweretoturnhimselfin.Doyouknowwhereheis?”
Theyshooktheirheads,andNelliesaid,“No.Wehonestlydon’tknow.”
“Hashebeenhere?”“Wedon’tthinkso,”said
Nellie.“Whatdoyoumean?”“There’snothingofhisin
thecar.Wesearchedeveryclosetandcabinet.Nothing.”
“Howdoyouhappentobehere?”
“We’reusingFather’scarforheadquarters,”saidNellie.
“Headquarters?”“FortheNewWoman’s
Flyover.Don’tyouremember?Icharteredalocomotivetomoveusto
NorthTarrytowninthemorning.”Andsuddenlyshewastalkingamileaminute.Theballoons,shesaid,werearrivingfromnearandfar.TheyweregatheringinahayfieldshehadrentedfromtheowneroftheSleepyHollowRoadhouse.
“Foradollar,Isaac,canyoubelieveit?”
“I’vemethim,”saidBell.“Icanbelieveit.”
Shebarelyheardhim.
“RightnexttoPocanticoHills!HehatesRockefeller.Andhelovestheideaofussoaringoverhisestate.Heevenpersuadedthenewvillagetrusteestopipegasouttothesite—sowedon’thavetogenerateourown,whichiswonderful,it’ssomuchfastertoinflatefrommains—andhe’sinvitedthewomentopitchtents,andhe’sopenedtheroadhousebathstoallofus.It’sa
delightfullycivilizedcampground.Exceptforthisinfernalheat.Butwe’llriseabovetheheat,won’twe?”
Itwasunderstandable,thoughtBell,andagoodthing,thatshewashurlingherselfintotheFlyoverschemetoescapefromfacingherfather’sgrimfuture.“Howaboutyou,Edna?Areyouballooning,too?”
Nellieansweredforher.“Ednagotajobreportingon
theFlyoverfortheSun.TheeditorwasthrilledbyherBakustory.”
“Howdidyouhappentofindthecar?”
“Easyaspie,”Nelliesaid.“ThissidingisoneofFather’sfavorites.It’sveryprettyinthedaylightandquiet.There’snevermuchtrafficonthePutnamDivision.Hecallsithiscottageinthecountry.”
“Andyoufoundnosignat
allofyourfather?”“None.Pokearound,if
youlike.Butlookwhatwedidfind.”
Ednaasked,“DoyourememberwhenweweretalkingaboutmybrotherjoiningtheArmy?”
“Ofcourse.”“Lookwhatwefound,”
saidNellie.Ednasaid,“Iwas
flabbergastedwhenNellieshowedme.”
Shetookaleatherpouchfromadrawerandlaiditonthedesk.
“MayI?”Bellasked.“Goon,pickitup.”Bellheldittohisnostrils.
“DoesyourfathersmokeCubancigars?”
“No,”saidEdna,andNelliesaid,“Heprefersatwo-centstogie.Openit,Isaac.Lookwhat’sinside.”
Itcontainedamedal,afifty-dollarbill,andasheetof
finelinen-basedstationeryfoldedinquarterstofitthepouch.Themedalwasanextraordinarilyheavydiskofgoldengravedlikeatarget,whichhungbyaredribbonfromagoldpinlabeled“RifleSharpshooter.”Thefiftywasatreasurynote.
“Turnitover,”saidNellie.“Lookattheback.”
BellsawthatPresidentRoosevelthadsignedthebackabovethetreasurer’s
printedsignature.“Readtheletter.”Bellunfoldeditcarefully,
asthepaperappearedweakenedbybeingopenedmanytimes.Theletterheadjumpedoffthepage:
THEWHITEHOUSE
Washington
Bell’seyeshottotherecipient’saddressonthe
bottomleftofthepage.
PrivateBillyJonesNewarkSeventhRegimentNewJersey
Heread:
MydearPrivateBillyJones,
IhavejustbeeninformedthatyouhavewonthePresident’sMatchforthemilitarychampionshipoftheUnitedStatesofAmerica.I
wishtocongratulateyouinperson...
Thepresidenthadclosed:
Faithfullyyours,
Andsignedinaboldhand:
TheodoreRoosevelt
Nelliesaid,“Hehastobeourbrother,don’tyouthink?Stillalivein’02.”
“Howdidthisendupinyourfather’scar?”
“Billymayhavehiddeninthecarwhenhefirstdeserted.HeknewthevariousplacesFatherwouldparkit.”
“HemighthaveturnedtoFatherforhelp,”saidEdna.
“Wouldyourfatherhave‘shielded’him?”askedBell,deliberatelyrepeatingthewordthatBrigadierMillshadusedtospeculateaboutBillMattersandthedeserter.
“Ofcourse,”saidEdna,andNellienoddedvigorously.
“Wouldyourfatherhavetriedtotalkhimintogoingback?”
Nelliesaid,“FatherwouldhavedonewhateverhethoughtwasbestforBilly’sfuture.”
“WheredoyousupposeBillyisnow?”Bellasked.
Ednasaid,“Isuspectheenlisted,again,undera
differentname.Butifhedid,maybethereasonwe’veheardnothingsinceishediedfightingtheFilipinoguerrillas.”
“IdoubthediedinthePhilippines,”saidBell.ItlookedtohimthatBrigadierMillshadreadhismanwrong...“CouldIaskyousomething?”
“Whichoneofus?”askedNellie.
“Both.Ifthismarksman
BillyJonesisyourbrother,BillyHock,couldyouimaginehimturninghisskilltomurder?”
“Areyouaskingisourbrothertheassassin?”
“Iamaskingdoyouimaginehecouldbe?”
“Wehaven’tseenhiminyears,”saidEdna.“Whoknowswhohe’sbecome?”
“Couldtheboyyourememberbecomeamurderer?”
“No,”saidEdna.“Yes,”saidNellie.“Whydoyousayyes,
Nellie?”“Iknewhimbetterthan
Edna.Isn’tthattrue,Edna?”Ednasaid,“Yes,youtwo
grewveryclose.”ToBellsheadded,“SoclosethatIwasjealoussometimes.”
Bellaskedagain,“Nellie,whydoyousayyes?”
“Hewasafraid.Hewasalwaysafraid.Sowhenyou
askcanIimaginehimturninghisskilltomurder,Ihavetoimaginehimlashingout—firstoutoffear,thenbecauselashingoutbanishedfear,andfinally...”
“Finallywhat?”askedBell.
Ednaechoed,“Finallywhat,Nellie?Howdoyoumean?”
“Idon’tknow.I’mjustspeculating.”
“Butyoujustsaidyou
knewhimwell,”Bellpressed,convincedshewasontosomething.
Nellieshrugged.“Whatiffinallylashingoutbanishedfear?Thenmaybelashingoutcouldbecome...what?Pleasurable?Enjoyable?Somethingtoaspireto.”
“We’retalkingaboutmurder,”saidEdna.
“Weweretalkingaboutourbrother,”Nelliesaidsharply.
“Butwhocouldfindmurderenjoyable?”
“Amadman,”saidIsaacBell.
“Weweretalkingaboutourbrother,”Nellierepeated.“We’respeculatingaboutmurder...”Whensheresumedspeaking,shemadeanefforttolightenhertone,asifaskingwithahopefulsmilecouldeliminatetheworstpossibility.“Whatdoyouthink,Isaac?You’rethe
detective.Isourbrothertheassassin?”
“Ican’tsugarcoatitforyou,”saidBell.
Hissobertonestoppedtheconversation.Lostinprivatethoughts,theylistenedtothenightsoundoflocustssingingintheheat.Afterawhile,aftermentallycouchingquestionsheknewthattheycouldnotanswer,Bellroseabruptly.Hefoundhishatandsaidgood-bye.
“Whereareyougoing?”askedNellie.
“Ihavetocatchatrain.”“Willyoubebackintime
formyFlyover?”“I’lldomybest.”Ednacalledafterhim.
“Whatdoyoumeanbya‘madman’?”
Bellstoppedinthedoorway.“Apersonwithoutconscience.Withoutfear.”
“Who‘banishedfear,’likeNelliesays?”
Bellanswered,“Allanyofuscanreallyknowaboutamadmanisthathewillbeunpredictable.”
“Ifthat’strue,howdoyoucatchsuchaperson?”
“Nevergiveup,”saidBell,butsteppedintothenightwithhismindfixedonadeadlierdevice.Beunpredictable,too.
—
ThehousesoneithersideofBillMatters’OilCitymansionlookedabandoned.Theiryardswereovergrown,theirwindowsblank.ThegardeninfrontoftheMatterses’housewasbakedbrown.Thecurtainsweredrawn,remindingIsaacBellthatBrigadierMillshaddescribedMattersgrievinginthedark.Theycouldbeclosedagainsttheheat.Itwasevenhotterinwestern
PennsylvaniathanNewYork.ThetrainconductorinformedIsaacBellwithgrimsatisfactionthatsinceweathertraveledwesttoeast,NewYorkwassooninfor“thehingesofhell.”
Nooneansweredwhenhepressedthebuzzerbuttonatthefrontgate.Hepickedthelock.
Nooneansweredhisknockonthefrontdoorandhepickedthatlock,too.
“Anyonehome?”hecalledupthefrontstairsanddownahall.
Hethoughthesmelledafaintaromaofcookedfoodandworkedhiswaybacktothekitchen.Itwasempty,withasingleskilletofcongealedbacongreasesittingontherange.HecheckedotherroomsandfoundtheparlorwiththepapertheatersthatMillshadmentioned.Asintheother
rooms,thecurtainsweredrawn.TherewasnoBillMatterssittinginthedark.
Thekitchendoorledintothebackyard,whichwasasbigasthegardensofacountryhouseandconcealedfromthestreetsandneighborsbehindhighwoodenfencesanddensefirtrees.ItwasthenthatBellrealizedtheneighboringhousesoneithersidewereemptybecauseMattershad
boughtandclosedthem,thenfencedthemoffandaddedtheirbackyardstohis.HecouldhearthesurroundingOilCityneighborhoodbutnotseeit.
Therewasaramshacklequalitytotheplace.AnabandonedwoodenderricklayonitssidetangledinvinesnexttolengthsofwoodenpipealmostasifMatterswascontemplatingamuseumofearly
Pennsylvaniaoilhistory.Hewalkedaroundthederrickandfoundapond,itswaterthickwithalgae.Besideitwasamarblegravestone.Nonamewaschiseledonthestone,onlyanepitaph,whichIsaacBellrecognizedasWilliamShakespeare’s.
GOODFRENDFORJESVSSAKEFORBEARE,
TODIGGTHEDVSTENCLOASEDHEARE.
BLESEBEYEMANYTSPARES
THESSTONES,ANDCVRSTBEHEYTMOVESMY
BONES.
Frombehindhim,Bellheard,“Shakespeare’snotreallyburiedhere.Thegirlssurprisedmeformyfortiethbirthday.Raiseyourhandsbeforeyouturnaround.”
I37
saacBellraisedhishandsandturnedaround.
MatterswaspointinghisoldRemingtonathim,andhewasnotalone.Rivers,thefitandremarkablyunscarredoldprizefighter,washoldingaSmith&Wessonlikeamechanical
extensionofhisfist.BelladdressedMatters.
“Theysaynomanisaherotohisbutler.YoumustbetheexceptionifRiversgaveupacushyjobinGramercyParktojoinyouonthelam.”
“Mr.MattersgavemethecushyjobwhenIwasonthelam,”saidRivers.“Fairisfair.”
“Areyouamurderer,too?”
“Thejurythoughtso.”
“I’llcoverhim,”saidMatters.“He’sgotarevolverinhisshoulderholster.AndifI’mnotwrong,Ithinkyou’llfindaderringerinhishat.”
“Reachhigherandstandverystill,”saidRivers.HepocketedhisgunandtooktheBisleyfromBell’sshoulderholster.“Finepistol!”
“Keepit,”saidMatters.“DetectiveBelldoesn’tneedit.”
Riversstuckitinhisbelt
withagrin.Bellsaid,“Ifyoulikethat,
wait’tilyouseemyderringer.”
RiversknockedBell’shatoffhishead.Hesnatcheditfromthegrass,dippedintothecrown,andremovedtheminiature,custom-builtsingle-shotderringerDaveMcCoarthadlenthimwhilehebuilthimareplacementforthetwo-shotBellhadlostinRussia.
“Wow!You’reahigh-classwalkingarsenal.Lookatthis—”
Rivershadmadetwomistakes.Inpickingupthetalldetective’shat,hehadplacedhimselfpartlybetweenBellandMatters.AndhehadalreadyletBelldistracthim.InthesplitsecondbeforeMatterscouldmovetoclearhisfieldoffire,Bellkickedwithallhismight,rocketinghisleftbootdeepintothe
prizefighter’sgroin.Thenhedroppedtothegrassandreachedintohisrightboot,drawingandcastinghisthrowingknifeinasinglemotion.
BillMatterscriedoutinshockandpain.TheheavyRemingtonsix-shooterfellfromhisconvulsingfingersandhestaredinhorrifieddisbeliefattherazor-sharpbladethathadpassedbetweenthebonesofhis
wrist.Theflatmetalshaftquiveredfromthefrontofhisarmandafullinchofthepointprotrudedredandglisteningfromtheskinontheback.
BellpickeduptheRemingtonandbroughtitdownlikeasledgehammeronRivers’skullasthegaspingbutlertriedtostraightenup.ThenhewhirledbackatMattersandlandedablowwiththeoldpistolthat
knockedtheoilmanflat.Hehadonepairof
handcuffs.HesecuredMatterstoanironringintheoilrig,tookthegunsfromtheunconsciousRivers,removedhiswhiskeyflaskandhisbootlaces,draggedhimfortyfeetaway,andtiedhimtotherigbyhisthumbs.HereturnedtoMatters.
“Whatareyougoingtodo?”askedMatters.
“Takemyknifeback,to
start,”saidBell.Heyankeditoutofhiswrist,wipedthebloodoffonMatters’shirt,andsheatheditbackinhisboot.
“I’llbleedtodeath.”“Notbeforeyouanswera
heapofquestions.”HescrewedthecapoffRivers’flaskandpouredwhiskeyintothewoundtheknifehadslit.Matterssuckedair.“Beatsinfection.Now,Bill,let’stalk.”
TheragethatBellhadseenexplodeontheBremenboattrainflaredred-hotinMatters’eyes.Bellsaid,“It’sover.I’vegotyoudeadtorights.Thereisnoescape.It’stimetotalk.Whereisyourassassin?”
Slowly,thefirefaded.“Where?Whereisthe
assassin?”“You’relookingathim.”
—“YoushotyouroldpartnerSpikeHopewell?WhataboutAlbertHillandReedRiggs,andC.C.GustafsoninTexas?”
“Them,too.”“Where’dyoulearnto
shootlikethat?”“Huntinginthewoods.I
wasanatural.Goodthing,too.Bloodsuckingbank
foreclosedwhenFatherdied.Thesheriffdroveoffourpigsandcowsandturnedmymotherandmeoutofthehome.WelivedonthegameIshot.Later,IranawaytothecircusandaWildWestShow.”
IsaacBellremindedBillMattersthattheyhadbeensittingtogetherinthePeerlesswithRockefellerwhentheassassinfiredattheminBaku.
“IpaidaCossackathousandrublestothrowoffsuspicion.”
“Didyoupayhimtowoundmeorkillme?”
MatterslookedBellintheface.“Wound.Mygirlsweresweetonyou.Ireckoneditmightturnoutwellforoneofthem.”
“Nooneeverdeniedyouwerealovingfather.DidyouarmtheCossackwithoneofyourSavages?”
“Ididn’thaveanywithme.Heusedhisownrifle.”
“Really?”saidBell.“The1891RussianArmyMosinisaboutasaccurateasapocketpistol.Theshort-barrelCossackversionisworse—Youwerenevertheassassin.Whyareyoutryingtoprotectahiredhandwithyourownlife?”
“Whathiredhand?”“It’snotinyourcharacter
toprotecttheassassin.You
arenotanhonorableman.Willyoulookmeintheeyeandtellmeyou’reanhonorableman?”
“Honorableneverputgameonthetable.”
“Thenwhyareyouprotectingyourhiredkiller?”
“Thereisnohiredkiller.Ididmyownkilling.”
“AndpoisonedAverellComstockandthrewLaphamoffthemonument?”
“IdidwhatIhadtodoto
advanceinthecompany.”“You’retrying,and
failing,toprotectahiredkiller.”
“WhywouldIbother?”askedMatters.
“Onlyoneanswermakessense.”
“Yeah,what’sthat?”“Theassassinisyour
stepson.”“Mystepson?”“BillyHock.”“Youcouldnotbemore
wrong.”“Yourstepsonwhoran
awayandjoinedtheArmy.”“IneverthoughtofBilly
asmystepson.Hewasmyson.Justasbothmydaughtersaremydaughters.”
“Callhimwhatyouwill,”saidBell,“hebecamethefinestsharpshooterintheArmy.Youmadehimamurderer.”
Matters’expressionturnedbleak.Therewasnomore
angerinhim.“Mysonisdead.”
“No,yoursonisyourownpersonalmurderer.”
“Iknowheisdead.”“Yourdaughtersdon’t
know.TheArmydoesn’tknow.Howdoyouknow?”
“Ifoundhisbody.”
T38
hetalldetective,whowasleaningclosetointerrogatethe
handcuffedcriminal,rockedbackonhisheels.Hestared,eyescold,mindracing.Hepacedatightcircle,castaneyeonthestill-unconsciousRivers,gazedacrossthe
pond,anddownatMatters.ThemanwasasskilledaliarasBellhadeverencountered.Andyet...
“IfBillywasdead,whywouldEdnaandNellietellmethatheranawayfromhomeandjoinedtheArmy?”
“Thatwasmystory.Itoldthemthat.Itwasbettertoletthegirlsthinkhediedasoldier.”
“Howdidhedie?”“Hedrownedinthat
pond.”“Here?Inyourbackyard?
Butyouneverreportedhisdeath.”
“Iburiedhimmyself.”“Why?”“Toprotectthegirls.”“Fromwhat?”“Hecommittedsuicide.
Thepoorkidtiedaropearoundhisneck.Hetiedtheotherendtoaconcreteblock.Thenhepickeduptheblockandwadedintotheponduntil
themudgothimandtheblockdraggedhisheadunder.Isawhisfoot.Histrouserleghadtrappedairanditfloated.Don’tyouunderstand,Bell?Thegirlslovedhim.Theideathathewassounhappythathewouldcommitsuicidewoulddestroythem.Iknow,becauseIstillaskmyselfeverydaywhatdidIdowrong?WhatcouldIhavedonebetter?”
“Spikesaidyouwere
neverthesameafterthat.”“Spikewasright.”“WhydidyouhaveSpike
shot?”“Spikewasn’tasdumbas
Ithought.Oras‘honorable.’HefiguredoutwhatIwasupto,andwhentheStandardstartedbreathingdownhisneckinKansas,hethreatenedtotellRockefellerthatIwasouttodestroyhim.HethoughtIcouldhelphim,thatIcouldstoptheStandard
frombustinguphisbusiness...Beforeyoustartblamingsomeotherinnocent,Irepeat,Ididn’t‘haveSpikeshot.’Ishothimmyself.”
“Noyoudidn’t,”saidBell.“YouwereathousandmilesawayatConstableHookatyourregularlyscheduledmeetingwithAverellComstock.”
“IwasnotatConstableHook.IwasinKansas.”
“VanDorndetectivesread
itinComstock’sdiary,”saidBell.“YouwerenotinKansasthedaySpikewasshot.Andbeforeyoucookupanewlie,Comstock’ssecretaryconfirmedthatindeedyoudidshowupforthatmeeting,ontime,asalways...”
Matterstuggedatthehandcuffs.Inabittervoiceheasked,“Whendidyoustartcheckinguponme?”
“Wecheckeduponallthe
newmenwhowereinapositiontoattackStandardOilfromwithinthecompany.AfteryoutriedtokillMr.Rockefeller,wenaturallyfocusedfullattentiononyou.WheredidyouburyBilly?”
“Righthere.”Matterspointedattheheadstone.“Shakespeare’sgrave.”
Bellpeeredatthestone,imaginingthesequenceofevents.Theboywasdead.Theheadstonewasalready
there.Mattersdugahole.Thestonemarkedanunmarkedgrave.
Matterssaid,“Funnythingis,heneverwantedtocometothetheater.Hatedit.Poorkidnevercouldfitin.Fidgetedthewholeplay.”
“Youburiedhimrightherewhenhedrownedhimself?”
“LikeIjusttoldyou.Youcandigupthepoorkid’sbonesifyoudon’tbelieve
me.”“Ibelievethatyouburied
him.ButIdon’tbelievethathedrownedhimself.”
“Hedrowned,”Mattersrepeateddoggedly.
“DrowningwastheleastlikelymethodBillywouldhavechosentokillhimself.Ifhedrowned,hewasnotasuicide.”
“Hedrowned.”“Thensomeonemurdered
him.”
“Iwouldneverhurthim.”“Ibelieveyou.Butyou
foundhisbody.”“Itoldyou.”“Didthegirlsmentionthat
IknewBillyslightlyatcollege?”
“Theytoldmeyoustoodupforhim.”
“Asbullieswill,theyfoundhisworstfearanduseditagainsthim.Doyourememberwhatthatwas?”
“Whatdoyoumean?”
Mattersaskedwarily.“Thecrewboyswere
throwinghimintheriver.Billywasrigidwithfear.Absolutelypetrified—helookedlikehisskullwaspoppingthroughhisskin—screaminghecouldn’tswim.They’dhavepulledhimoutinasecond,buthewassoterrifiedofwater,hecouldn’tseeitwasjustcollegehijinks.ThereisnowayonGod’searththatboywouldhave
killedhimselfbydrowning...”
Butevenashespoke,BellrememberedBilly’scourageousattempttoconquerhisfearbyaskingthecrewtolethimtraintobecoxswain.Couldhehavetriedagainandtriumphedinafinalderangedact?
IsaacBellfoundhimselfstaringintentlyattheShakespearegravestone.
“DidyousaythatBilly
didn’tlikethetheater?”“Hatedit.”
—BellcouldhearoldBrigadierMillsthunderinginhismind.Ticketstubsfromanoperahouse...Shakespeareshows...WetracedthemtoOilCity,Pennsylvania.Thethundershapedaboltoflightning.Whywouldtheboykeepticketstubstoplayshe
W39hichone?”BillMattersechoedIsaacBell.
“You’reprotectingoneofyourdaughters.Whichone?”
“Whatdoyoumean,whichone?”
“Edna?OrNellie?TheonewhokilledBilly.”
“Killedhim?You’reinsane.”
Notinsane,thoughtBell.Notevensurprised,lookingback.HehimselfhadremarkedontheNewYorkLimited,Strangehowthethreeofuskeepturninguptogetherwherecrimeshaveoccurred.AndwhenheengineeredEdna’sjobcoveringBakufortheEveningSunandtheeditoraskedMindmeaskingwhich
sisteryou’resweeton?somesixthorseventhsensehadalreadymadehimasharperdetectivethanheknew:Let’sjustsaythatwiththisarrangement,Icankeepmyeyeonbothofthem.
Notinsane.Notsurprised.Onlysad.Deeply,deeplysad.
BillMatterswasshouting,“Theylovedhim.WhywouldoneofthemkillBilly?”
“Becauseshe’sa‘natural,’touseyourword.”
“Naturalwhat?”“Assassin.”
—“Shesnapped,”Matterssaidquietly.“ThatwasthefirstthoughtinmymindwhenIsawthem.Shesnapped.”
“Who?”IsaacBellasked.“WasitNellie?OrEdna?”
MattersshiftedhiseyesfromBell’sburninggazeandstaredatthepond.
“Who?”Bellasked,again.“Nellie?OrEdna?”
Mattersshookhishead.“Whodidyousee?”“Shewasoutthere.Inthe
water.Ithoughtshewasfloatingonalog.’TilIsawhisleg.Ileapedin,grabbedher,toreheroffhim.Pulledhimout,draggedhimontothegrass.Hewasincrediblyheavy.Suchalittleguy.Deadweight.”
“Dead?”
“Iheldhiminmyarms.Sheclimbedoutandstoodbehindme.Ikeptaskingherwhy.Whydidyoudoit?Shedidn’tdenyit.”
“Sheadmittedthatshedrownedhim?”
“ShesaiditwasBilly’sfault.Hewasacoward.Wastedhisopportunity.”
“Whatopportunity?”“Ofbeingaman.Menare
allowedtodoanything.”Bellrealizedhedidnot
fullybelieveMatters.Ordidn’twantto.“Noonesaw?Nooneinthosehouses?”
“Night.”“Yousawthem.”“Fullmoon.Lunatic
moon.”“Who?WasitNellie?Or
Edna?”Mattersshookhishead.“Whichofyourgirlsis
innocent?”IsaacBelldemanded.
“Both,”Matterssaid
sullenly.“Oneisguilty.IsitNellie,
yourblooddaughter?OrEdna,yourstepdaughter?”
“Ilovethemequally,withallmyheart.”
“Idon’tdoubtthatyoudo.Whichistheassassin?”
“Icanonlysayneither,”saidMatters.“Eveniftheyhangme.”
“Oh,theywillhangyou,Ipromise,”saidBell.
“Yourquestionwillhang
withme.”IsaacBellrealizedthatif
somehowtheassassinweretostopkillingandcommitnomorecrimes,thenhecouldspendtherestofhislifewonderingandnevertrulyknowingwhichofthemwasthewomansheseemedtobeandwhichhadbeenamurderer.Butwhywouldsheeverstop?Howmanymorewoulddiebeforehecaughther?
Hewasstrucksuddenlybyaterribleinsight.Hesawaway,awayascruelasitwouldbeeffective,toforceBillMatterstoconfess.
“Thereisnoquestionyouwillhang,Bill.”
“Idon’tcare.”“Theonlyquestionis,will
thegirlwhohangsbesideyoubetherightone?”
“Whatdoyoumean?”askedMatters.ButBellsawthatheknewexactlywhathe
meant.Thebloodhaddrainedfromhisface.Hisjawwasrigid.Hishandswereshakingsohard,theyrattledthecuffs.
“Theonlytruthyou’veevertoldisthatyoulovebothyourdaughters.”
“Ido.Ido.”“Yourassassincovered
hertrackssocleverlythatshecouldbeeitherofthem.EitherEdna.OrNellie.Butjusticemustbedone.”
“Hangingthewrongone
G40
rim-facedVanDornsindarkcoatsandderbiesflanked
IsaacBellashestrodethegrassyfieldacrosstheroadfromtheSleepyHollowRoadhouse.Theancienttavernwasstillsurroundedbymud.Thehayfieldwasa
verdant,boot-poundedcarpetunderamulticoloredfleetofgasballoonsinvariousstagesofinflation.
NellieMatters’yellowballoonwasthetallest,itsbulboustoprisinghigherthanthetreesattheedgeofthePocanticoestate.Itwasfullyinflated,andshewasreadytosoarunderagiganticbillboardforequalenfranchisement.
ToVOTESFORWOMENshe
hadaddedNELLIEMATTERS’NEWWOMAN’SFLYOVERalmostasiftoaskWhenyougetthevote,willyouvoteforNellie?
Otherballoonswerealmostfilledorhalf-filled,hangingoddrumpledshapesinthestillair.ThesuffragistswhohadbroughtthemhadaddedthenamesoftheirstatestoVOTESFORWOMENandphrasesaimedatRockefellerinhopesof
persuadingtheStandardOiltitantoputhisinfluencebehindtheirpushtoamendtheConstitutiontogivewomentherighttovote.
Newspapermenand-womenwanderedamongthem,invitedundertheropethatheldatbaythepublic,forwhomatieredfairgroundgrandstandwasprovided.Typewriterspoundedawayonpicnictablesinanopentent.Photographersswarmed,
luggingglass-platecamerasontripodsandwavingsmallerKodakinstrumentsthatallowedsnapsontherun.
BellspottedEdnaMattersdartingaboutinawhitecottondressandmadeabeelineforher.ShehadperchedaNewYorkSunpresscardatajauntyangleinthehatbandofherstrawboaterandwasjottingnotesinapocketdiary.Seenfrombehind,thewispsofchestnut
hairtrailinghergracefulneckcouldhavebelongedtoaboyuntilsheturnedtowardhimandasmilelitherbeautifulface.
“Hello,Isaac!WhatadayNellie’smade!Everyonecame.EventhedreadAmanda,inascarletballoon.”
Belltookherarm.EdnasawtheVanDorns.“Hello,Mack,Wally.Lovelytoseeyouagain.You’rejustin
time.They’reabouttosoar.Nellie’sgoingfirst,thentherestwillfollow.”
Bellsaid,“TheboyswillescortyoutoNewYork.”
“What’swrong?”“Iamterribly,terribly
sorry,Edna,butwehaveyourfatheratouroffice.”
“Ishe—”“Adoctor’spatchedhim
up.He’sallright.Iwillholdoffturninghimovertothepoliceuntilyouhavea
momentwithhim.”“IbettergetNellie.”“I’llgetNellie.”
—HesawNelliewatchhimcoming.
Shegavehimawarmsmileandabigwave,asifinvitinghimtojoinher.
IthadbeenyearssinceBell’sonerideinaballoon,butherecognizedthe
workingpartsfromherexuberantstories:theten-foot-diameterwickerbasketoftightlywovenrattan;herbankof“emergencygas”steelcylinderscontaininghydrogenunderpressurethatshecouldpipeintothenarrowmouthoftheenvelope;the“loadring,”thestrongcirclethatrimmedthemouth,holdingthefabricopenandanchoringthebasketthathungfromit;and
thegiantropenetthatencasedthetoweringgasbag.
Thecontrolsweresimple:threeleversontheedgeofthebasketwerelinkedbywirestodropsandballasttoascendorreleasegastodescend.Thedraglinetoreduceweightandstopdescentwascoiledinthebottomofthebasket.Afourth,red-handledleverwasconnectedtothebankofcylindersofemergencygas.
Nelliewassmilingina
shaftofsunlightthatshineddownthroughthefabricdomeeightyfeetoverhead.SheremindedBellofaseacaptainabouttosetsail—incommand,confident,andalert.ShestoodwithonehandinsidehervestintheclassicposeofAdmiralLordNelson.OrNapoleon,hethoughtgrimly.Andhethought,too,thathehadneverseenhermorebeautiful.Shehadhighcolor
inhercheeksandexcitementblazinginhereyes.
Bellvaultedintothebasket.Thebaskropes—theshroudsthatsuspendedthebasketfromtheloadring—werequivering,vibratingfromthepowerofthegasstrainingtoliftit.
“Hello,Achilles’heel,”shegreetedhimcheerfully.
“What?”“You’remyAchilles’
heel.EverytimeItrytoshoot
you,Imiss.”“Ifyouwanttobe
mythological,Nellie,sayhellotoyourNemesis.”
“Her,too.Butifyouweren’tmyAchilles’heel,youwouldbedeadalready.SomehowIcouldneverbringmyselftokillyou.”
“Toolatetochangeyourmind,”saidBell.
Nelliedrewherhandfromhervest.Herpearl-handledderringerwasalreadycocked.
SheaimedatBell’sheart.“Don’tgetclose.”
“It’sover,”saidBell.“Getoutofthebasket
beforeIshootyou.YouknowIwill.”
Bellmovedtowardher.Nelliesaid,“Iwillpullthe
triggerthissecondifyoudonotsitonthefloor.Now!Youwilldieanditwon’tchangeathingandI’llstillgetaway.”
“Howfardoyouthink
you’llgetinaballoon?”“Lastchance,Isaac.
You’rebiggerandstronger.Ican’tletyouclose.”
Hecrossedhisanklesandloweredhimselfintoacross-leggedsittingposition,poisedtospringtheinstantshelookedaway.Shelovedtotalk.Itwouldnotbehardtokeephertalking.
“Thewindisdeadcalm,”hesaid,“you’llgostraightup.Whenthegasdissipates,
you’llcomedownwithinacoupleofmilesfromhere.”
“IwillgohigherandhigheruntilIfindthewind.Thetroposphere.Thestratosphere.Theexosphere!AshighasIhavetotocatchthewind.”
“Youcan’tbreatheupthere.You’lldie.”
“Thewindalwaysswingswest.Mybodywillbeblownouttosea.”
“Doyouwanttodie?”
“Howwouldyouliketodieinprisonorhang,Isaac?Tellme.”
“Firsttellmesomething.”“Anything,Isaac.”She
actuallyseemedontheedgeoflaughing.“WhatcanItellyou?”
“Whoseideawasittokillforyourfather?His?Oryours?”
“Ivolunteered.”Bellshookhishead.He
hadtriedtoconvincehimself
thatherfatherhadsomehowcoercedher.“Whydidheaccept?Hisowndaughter?”
“HeknewIcoulddeliver.He’dseenmeinaction.”
“Whenyoumurderedyourbrother?”
“Stopaskingsillyquestions,Isaac.Asksomethingimportant.”
“Howdidyoulearntoshoot?”
Nellieansweredasiftellingastoryshehadreadin
abook.“IranawayfromhomewhenIwasfourteen.Likeyou.Ijoinedacircus.Likeyou.”
“Yourfathertoldmethesamestory.Thesheriffdroveoffhismother’spigsandcows.What’syourexcuse?”
Sheignoredthequestion.“BythetimeFatherfoundme,thetrickshootisthadtaughtmeeverythingsheknew.Ihadatalentforguns—steadyhandsandakeen
eye.Icanseefartherthananyhumanbeing.AndIcanconcentrate;mostpeoplecan’t.”
“Anatural?”“Asnaturalasbreathing.”“Andlashingouttobanish
fear?”“I’mneverafraid,”said
Nellie.“Bytheway,Iseeyougatheringyourlegstojump...Don’t!”
Bellmadeashowofrelaxinghislegs.“Isthatyour
rifleinthebag?”“I’matmyabsolutebest
withtherifle.”“Loadedwithexplosive
bullets?”“Stopshowingoff,Isaac.
Everyoneknowsyou’reacrackdetective.”
“Who’sitfor?”“Whodoyouthinkit’s
for?”“Rockefeller.”“Forwhathehasdoneto
myfather,JohnD.
Rockefellerwillpaywithmuch,muchmorethanhislife.”
“Whatcouldbemorethanlife,Nellie?”
“WhatRockefellerlovesmost.Doyouhaveanyotherquestions,Isaac?”
Hehadtokeephertalking.“AyoungsoldierwascommendedbythePresidentoftheUnitedStatesforwinningthehighestshootingmetalinthenation.Why
wouldhedeserttheArmy?”“Shesawnofutureinthe
Army.”“Thereisalong,brave
historyofwomenservingtheircountrydisguisedasmen.”
Suddenlyshewasbitter,hercheekstaut,hervoiceharsh.“Ihadnochoice.HowelsecouldagirlwinthePresident’sMedal?IknewIwasthebestshot,betterthananyman.HowelsecouldI
proveit?”“Buthowharditmust
havebeenfoolingmenintheirbarracks.Howdidyoudoit,Nellie?”
Shewasalltooreadytoboastandthebitternessdissolved.Butshenevertookhereyesfromhim.Nordidherderringerwaverasshedemonstratedplantingherlegsapart,loweringhervoicetomockhimandthepeopleshefooled:“Manlytones;
theatertrickslikeskullcapandwig,trousers,boots.Adetectivemustknowthatmenbelievewhattheyassumeistrue.”
“Butwhydidthisyoungsharpshooterdesert?”
“Shewonthemedal.Whystay?Itwastimetomoveon.Ialwaysmoveon.”
“Orwassheafraidtheywouldfindherout?Justasshefearedshewouldbefoundoutwhenherbrother
wasmurderedandshejoinedtheArmydisguisedasaboy?”
“Shewasneverafraid.”“Aftershelearnedthather
fatherlovedhersomuch,hewouldforgiveherofanything...?”
“Orrefusetobelievehisworstfear,”Nellierepliedcoldly.“Evenwhenhesawitwithhisowneyes,allhecouldsaywashowmuchhelovedmymother.”
Thederringerremainedrock-steadyasshehikedherselfuptositontheroundededgeofthewickerbasketwhileclutchinghercarpetbagunderherarm.“BillywasonlyFather’sstepson.”
“Andyourhalfbrother,yourownmother’schild.”
“Ineverknewmy‘ownmother.’ShediedwhenIwasababy.”
“Butwhydidyoukill
Billy?”Nellie’seyesboredinto
Bell’s.“Lotsofreasons,Isaac.Hewassuchacoward.Iwastryingtogetridofhissillydrowningfear.Imadethemistakeofconfidinginhim.ItoldhimIwasrunningawaytojointheArmy...Ilovedhim,Isaac.Ilovedhimverymuch.Buthewouldhaveruinedeverythingifhetold.AndIcouldn’tstandhimbeingafraid.”
“Howdidyoukillhim?”Bellkeptwaitingforhertolookaway,buthereyeswerefixedonhis.
Suddenlythewomeninthenearestballooncalled,“Nellie!We’realmostready.”
Shewavedtothem,theguntuckedtoherside,neitherturningherheadnortakinghereyesfromBell.
“Howcouldagirldrownaboyasbigasshe?Didn’thefightback?”
“Hewasgroggy.”“Youpoisonedhim.”“Ididn’tpoisonhim,”
Nelliesaidindignantly,“Igavehimalittlechloralhydrate.”
“Chloralhydrate?That’sknockoutdrops.”
“Justtocalmhimdown.Notpoison.”
“Calmhimtokillhim?”“Iwashelpinghimbeat
hisfear.Iknewifheswamonce,hecouldswimforever.
Butitdidn’twork.Hewasahopelesscoward.”
“Didhepassout?Isthathowhedrowned?”
“Aren’tyoulistening,Isaac?Hewasgroggy.Hedidn’tpassout.”
“Youdrownedhim.”“Hewasahopeless
coward.”“Youdrownedhim.”“Let’sjustsaythechloral
hydratecreatedanopportunity.”
“WasthathowyoudruggedtheoldmanwhofellfromtheWashingtonMonument?Slippedhimknockoutdrops?”
“Chloroform.”“Whatdidyoufeed
Comstock?”“Arsenic.”“Wheredidyoulearn—?”“Iworkedasapharmacist
once.I’vedonelotsofthings,Isaac.Ilovedifferentthings.Iwasanactressforabit.Every
timeIranaway,Ifoundafascinatingjob.Iwentbacktothecircusandbecameanacrobat.Forawhile.Iwasamedicalstudent,oneofthefirstgirlsatJohnsHopkins.Ididn’tstaylong.”
“Longenoughtoknowyourpoisons.”
“Andanatomy,”shesmiled,reachingtotouchthebackofherneck.
Bell’shatflewfromhishead.Beforeittouchedhis
shoulderhisderringerfilledhisrighthand,thebarrelaimedatherface.HesawshockinNellie’seyesbutnofeareventhoughsheknewhewouldfirebeforeshecould.Still,shewaslightningfast.
—TherewasapartofIsaacBell,thepartthatbeatdeepestinhissoul,thatheldinnocentssacred.Untilthis
moment,thatpartcouldneverhaveimaginedtriggeringagunatawoman.HeknewfullwellthatNellieMatterswasnoinnocentbutacold-bloodedmurderertryingtokillhim.Hepulledthetrigger.Hewasnotentirelysurprisedwhenhisbulletmissedherheadbyafullinchandbrokeacontrolwirethatpartedwithamusicaltwang.
TheclosecallcausedNellietoflinchandhershot
whizzedpastBell’sear.Foramicrosecondthat
stretchedlikeaneternity,theystaredateachother.Hisgunwasempty.Hertwo-shothadonebulletleft.Hegatheredhimselftocharge,reasoningthatawildshotwouldmorelikelywoundthankillhim.Nellieaimedthederringerdirectlyathisface.Thenshegavehimabig“Nelliesmile.”
“Iguessyoumissed
becauseVanDorndetectivesbringtheirsuspectsinalive?Orareyoujustalousyshot?”
“Youmissed,too,”saidBell.“Again.Soifyoucan’tshootmeandI’mnotabouttoswallowpoisonforyou,howwillyoustopmefromtakingthatgunawayfromyou?”
“Gas!”Shejerkedthered
emergencyleverandheldtight.Thetanksspewedtheircompressedloadsof
hydrogen.Thegasroaredupthemouthofthealreadyfullenvelopeandtheballoonlurchedlikearogueelephantbreakingitschains.ThenNelliepulledtheballastlever,releasingthetotalweightofthesandallatonce,andsomersaultedbackwardtothegrass.
IsaacBellsprangtohisfeet.Halfwayoutofthebasket,hesawthegroundvanishbeneathhimasifhe
weresuddenlypeeringdownthewrongendofatelescope.
Theballoonwasfiftyfeetintheair,fivestorieshigh,toohightojump,andsoaringtowardtheclouds.
N41
ellieMatters’runawaygasballoonshotskyward,
loftingIsaacBelltowardthestratospherewheretheairwastoothintobreathe.TheothercolorfulFlyoverballoons,soenormousaninstantago,suddenlylooked
tiny,dottingtheSleepyHollowfieldlikeagameofmarbles.AwhitecircleinthegreengrassmarkedthespotNelliehaddumpedthesand.
Bellthoughthesawherrunningtoanotherpartiallyinflatedballoon.Butwithnoballastlefttocounteracttheurgentliftofthelighter-than-airgas,hewastoohighupinanothersecondtodistinguishindividualfigures,sohighhecouldseeRockefeller’sestate
spreadtotheHudsonRiver.Heheardalocomotiveandrealizedthattheonlynoiseswerefromtheground;aftertheinitialroarofextragas,theballoonwasascendingsilently.ANewYork–boundpassengertrain,thecrackLakeshoreLimited,washeadingfortheNorthTarrytownrailroadstationtowingtwoblackcars.TheywouldbecharteredbyRockefeller,whowas
returningfromClevelandwithhisentirefamily,andIsaacBellhadthemomentarysatisfactionofknowingthatwhetherornothegotoutofthisfix,hehadatleaststoppedNellieMattersfromshootingtheoldmanthismorning.
Theonlywaytostophiswildascentwastoreleasegas.
Belltracedthecontrolleverwires.Theballastwire
thatwentdownthroughthebottomofthebasketwasuseless,asNelliehadalreadydumpedeverygrainofsand.Ofthetwothatwentupintothemouthofthegiantgasbag,oneconnectedtoa“rippanel”atthetopoftheballoon.Nelliehadexplainedmorethanonce,whilespinningherballoontales,thatpullingthatleverwouldtearthefabricenvelopewideopenandreleaseallthegasat
once.Itwasanemergencydeviceforinstantlyemptyingtheballoonwhenitwasonthegroundtokeephighwindsfromdraggingitintothetreesortelegraphwires.Topulltherippanelleveratthisheightwouldbetofalllikeananvil.
ThewirebrokenbythebulletthathadmissedNellieturnedouttobethegascontrol.Ithadsnappedinchesabovethelever.Lookingup
eightyfeet,Bellcouldseethebusinessendwasstillattachedtothereleaseflapinthedomeatthetopoftheballoon.Partingwhileundertension,ithadsprungupintothemouth.Hecouldseeitswinginginsidetheemptygasbag,tantalizinglynearbutinfinitelyfaroutofreach.Therewasnoframeworktoclimbinsidetheballoon—thegaspressingagainstthefabricenvelopegaveitshape—but
evenifithadaframethathecouldimproviseforaladder,thegaswouldasphyxiatehimbeforeheclimbedtenfeet.
Hejumpedontotherimoftherattanbasketandshinniedupabaskropetothesteelloadring.Hangingbyonehand,hecaughtaholdoftheropesthatwerewovenintotheenormousnetthatencasedthebulgingenvelopelikeagiantspiderweb.Thenhereacheddownfortheknife
snuggedinhisboot.Hetouchedthebladetothestrainingfabrictoslashanopeningtoventgas.
Hefeltabreathofcoolairforthefirsttimeinaweek.Theballoonhadcarriedhimabovetheheatwaveintoacoldcurrentintheupperatmosphere,andhesawhehadn’tamomenttolose.Thepatchworkoffarmfieldsfarbelowappearedtobemoving.ThebluelineoftheHudson
Riverwasrecedingbehindhim.WindthatNelliehadpredictedwascarryinghimeastoverConnecticut.
Butjustashebracedtopressdownontheblade,itstruckhimforciblythattherewerevitalaeronauticalreasonswhyboththeregulargasreleaseandtheemergencyrippanelweresituatedatthetopoftheballoon.Hedrovehishandbetweenthatropeandthe
fabrictoovercomethepressureinsideitandpulledhimselfhigherupbythenettingropesuntilhecouldbracehisfeetontheloadring.
Likeacelestialgiantclimbingfromtheearth’sSouthPoletotheNorthPole,heworkedhiswayupandout,hangingalmosthorizontallyfromtheweb,asthebulgeoftheglobe-shapedballoonspreadfromthe
narrowmouthatthebottomtowardtheEquator.
Heclimbedsomefortyfeetasitswelledwiderandwider.ThenheclimbedgraduallyintoaverticalstanceashecrossedtheEquatoratthewidestpartoftheballoon.
Whenheglanceddown,hesawthesilverywatersoftheLongIslandSoundriddledwithwhitesailsandstreakedbysteamersmoke.
HeglimpsedthesandbluffsoftheNorthShoreofLongIslandandrealizedthattheballoonhadrisenupintoamorepowerfulaircurrent.Initsgrip,hewastravelingrapidly.Andtheballoonwasstillclimbing.Thefarmsappearedsmallerandsmaller,andtheclustersoftownsgavetheillusionofgrowingclosertooneanotherasitgainedaltitude.
Pasttheequatorialbulge,
hewasabletomovefaster,scramblingtogettothetop,tiringfromtheeffort,butdrivenbyanarrestingsight:theballoonwasnowsohighthathecouldseethegreenbackofthetwenty-mile-wideLongIslandand,beyondit,thedeepbluewatersoftheAtlanticOcean.Ifhedidn’tsuffocateinthestratosphere,theoceanwouldbewaitingbelow.
Hereachedthedome,the
topofthegasenvelope,drewhisthrowingknifefromhisboot,andplungeditintothefabric.Inthestrangesilence,thehissofgasescapingunderenormouspressurewasdeafening.Itblastedfromthesmallslithehadcut.Buthefeltnoeffect,noindicationthattheballoonhadceasedtoclimb,muchlessbeguntosink.Hedraggedthesharpbladethroughmorefabric,skippingoverthenetting,
lengtheningtheslit,huntingtheidealsizetoreducetheliftofgassotheballoonwoulddescendquicklybutstillfloat.
Hefeltlight-headed.Hisfootslippedfromtheropeweb.Hishandswerelosingtheirgrip.Theknifestartedtoslidefromhisfingers.Thegas!Hesuddenlyrealizedthegaswasjettingpasthisfaceandhewasinhalingit,breathingitintohislungs,slippingundertheedgeof
consciousness.Heduckedhisfacebelowtheslitandheldonwithallhisfadingstrength.Itwasgettingworse.Hisheadwasspinning.Hegatheredhiswillanddroppeddownarowofropenettingandsuckedinfreshair.Whenhecouldseestraightagain,hereachedoverheadwiththeknifeandslashedmoreholesinthefabric.
Therewerethousandsofcubicfeetoflighter-than-air
gasliftingtheballoon.Howmuchdidhehavetoletouttomakeitsink?HerecalledNelliedescribingafinelinetocalculatethebalancebetweentheweighttobeliftedandthevolumeofgas.Heheardarippingsoundandlookedup.Thefabricbetweenthetwoslitshehadcutwastearing,joiningtheslits,andsuddenlythegaswasrushingfromtheunitedfissure.
Bell’sstomachlurched.Hethoughtforamomentthatthegaswasmakinghimsick.Thenherealizedtheballoonhadlostallbuoyancyandwasplummetingbacktoearth.
—Withnowaytocontroltherelease,IsaacBell’sonlyhopewastoclimbdowntothebasketandthroweverythingoverthesideto
reducetheweightdraggingtheballoonbacktoearthbeforeitcollapsed.Retracinghisascent,handunderhand,bootunderboot,heslippedfromcrossropetocrossrope,downtowardthemiddlebulgeasfastashecould.
Wasthebaglesstaut?Nodoubtaboutthat.Thefabrichadceasedtopresssohardagainstthenet.Helookeddown.Hesawthefarms.HesawthesilverSoundand
LongIslandshore.Buttheballoonhadfallensofarthathewasnolongerhighenoughtoseetheocean.
HeloweredhimselfaroundtheEquatorandstartedthelonghorizontalclimbdownundertheoverheadcurveoftheglobe-shapedenvelope,hangingfromthenet,swinginghandoverhead,workinghiswayintotheverticalwallofthelowestpartoftheballoon,
untilhefinallyreachedtheloadringandsliddownthebaskropesintothebasket.
Afarmspreadunderhim,greenfieldsspeckledwithblackcows,abigsprawlinghouseshelteredbyshadetrees,redbarns,apond,androundsilospokingupattheskylikepencilsstandingonend.Attheedgeofthefieldsstoodthedarkergreenoftrees,thewoodlot.TheSoundwasnolongerinsight.
Bellrippedthehosesfromthesteelhydrogentanksandwrestledtheheavycylindersovertheside,oneafteranother,untiltheyweregone.Therewasn’tmuchelsetothrow,buthewasstillfalling.Hehurledthedraglineoutofthebasket.
Foramoment,heentertainedthefantasyoflandinginthewoods,wherespringytreetopsmightslowhimdown.Buttheballoon
wasaimingatthefarmhouse.Theshadetreesmightslowhimdown,butitwassoonapparenthewasnotoncoursefortheshadetreeseither.Quitesuddenlyhewasdirectlyoverabarn.Inanotherinstant,hewascloseenoughtodistinguishroofshingles.Theweathervaneonthepeakwasshapedlikearooster.Thedraglinetouched.Diditslowhimslightly?Hegrabbedthebasketropesand
bracedforthecrash.Thebaskethittheroof,
splinteringshingles,andblastedthroughthemintothehayloft.Balesofhayhadnoeffectontheimpact.Theloftfloorcollapsed.Thebaskethungupintheraftersandstopped,abruptly.Inthestillair,thenear-emptygasbagsettleddownoverthebarn.
IsaacBelldroppedfromthebottomofthebaskettothefloor.
Hewasreelingtohisfeetwhenared-facedfarmerburstintothebarn.
Belltookouthiswallet.“Iwillpayforyourroof.MayIuseyourtelephone?”
“Idon’twantwomenvoting!”thefarmeryelled.
“What?”“Mywholedamnedbarn
saysVotesforWomen.”“Doyouhavea
telephone?”“No.”
“Rentmeahorsethatcanmakeittothenearestrailroadstation.”
—BellwiredtheNewYorkfieldoffice
FINDNELLIEMATTERS?GUARDROCKEFELLER.
HecaughtalocaltraintoNewHavenandcalledtheofficeonaSouthernNew
EnglandCompanylong-distancepublictelephonewhilehewaitedforanexpress.NellieMatters,GradyForrerreported,hadescapedinanotherballoon.
“Shecan’thideinaballoon.”
“Nightisfalling,”saidGrady.“Shecanhideallnight.”
“GuardRockefeller,”Bellrepeated.
“Rockefellerissafe.
We’vegotanarmyaroundhim.”
“I’llbetheresoonasIcan.”
LongbeforetheexpresspulledintoGrandCentral,IsaacBellhadaveryclearideaofwhatNellieMattersbelievedJohnD.Rockefellervaluedmorethanlife.WhenhegottoManhattan,heroundedupeveryVanDorndetectiveinthecityandcharteredsteamlaunchesto
H42
ey,you!”NellieMatters
closedherhandaroundthederringerinherpocket.ShehadalmostmadeithomefreetoTheHooksaloon.
“You!Stoprightthere!”Ibelonghere,she
remindedherself.Inthepersonaofherdisguise,shehadeveryrighttobehurryingalongthisstreetthatparalleledthechain-linkrefineryfence.Butthemanwhoshoutedatherwassweatingintheheavyblue,brass-buttoneduniformofaConstableHookcop.Shepitchedheraltovoicedowntoarangebetweenaraspytenorandathinbaritone.
“What’sup?”
Thecopcastasharpeyeonherworkman’sduds.Herwig,thefinestmoneycouldbuy,wasathickmopofcurlybrownhairbarelycontainedbyaflatcap.Anarrowhorsehidetoolbaghungfromhershoulderstrap.Apairofnickel-platedside-cuttingpliersprotrudingfromanendpocketwassupposedtobethefinishingvarnishcoatonaportraitofajourneymanelectrician.Nooneinthe
refinerycityhadchallengedituntilnow.
“Howoldareyou?”Ibelonghere!“Howold
amI?”sheshotback.“Twenty-fournextmonth.Howoldareyou?”
Thecoplookedconfused.Sheletgooftheguninherpocketanddrewhisattentiontohertoolbagbyshiftingitfromherleftshouldertoherright.
“Jeez.Frombehind,youse
lookedlikeakidcuttingschool.”
“That’sagoodone,”Nellielaughed.“Iain’tplayedhookysincetheykickedmeoutofeighthgrade.”
Thecoplaughed,too.“Sorry,bud.Theystuckmeontruantpatrol.”
“Tellyouwhat,pal.Ifyoursergeantsetaquota,I’mshortenoughtogoinwithyou.ButIcan’tstaylong.
Gottagotowork.”Thecoplaughedagain.
“You’reO.K.”“Isurelyam,”shesaidto
herselfasthecopwanderedoffandshehurriedtoTheHooksaloon.“IamO.K.asO.K.canbe...Andhowareyou,Isaac?”
—IsaacBellsealedofftheConstableHookoilrefinery
witharmedProtectiveServicesoperatorscommandedbyVanDorndetectives.Heputwhite-hairedKansasCityEddieEdwardsinchargebecauseEdwardsspecializedinlockingouttheslumgangtrainrobberswhoplaguedmanyacity’srailroadyards.Thecompanycops,whomtheVanDornsregardedasstrikebreakingthugsindirtyuniforms,resentedthe
invasionandresistedmightilyuntilwordfromtheEleventhFloorof26Broadwayreverberatedacrosstheharborlikeanavalbroadside.
“Mr.RockefellerexpectseveryrefinerypoliceofficertodohisdutybyassistingtheVanDornDetectiveAgencytoprotectStandardOilproperty.”
EvenbeforeRockefellerknockedtherefinerycopsinline,EddieEdwardswas
glad-handingthechiefsoftheConstableHookPoliceDepartment,therefinery’sprivatefiredepartment,andthecity’svolunteerfiredepartment.Thesesavvy,by-the-bookmovesboreimmediatefruit.Copswereassignedtoguardeveryhighpointinthecitywhereasnipermightsetupshop.StandardOiltransferredbattalionsofextrafiremenfromotherrefineries.The
ranksoftheConstableHookvolunteerswereswelledbyvolunteersfromeverytowninNewJersey.StandardOiltugboatsfromitsBrooklynandLongIslandCityyardsarrivedequippedwithfirenozzlesandweresoonjoinedbyPennsylvaniaRailroadandNewJerseyCentralRailroadtugsandtheBaltimore&OhioRailroad’sfleetfromSt.George.Thenabeatcopassignedtothehighschool
truantsquadreportedencounteringashort,slight,youthfulelectricianwhofitoneoftheVanDornAgencydescriptionsofhowtheassassinmightlookdisguisedasaman.
“Inthecity,”EddieEdwardstoldIsaacBell.“Soshortandskinny,thecopthoughthewasakid.Nearthefence.Notinside.”
“Yet,”saidBell.Bellquestionedthecop
personallyandcameawayfairlycertainhehadseenNellie.Herbreakdown99wouldfiteasilyintheelectrician’shorsehidetoolbagthecopdescribed.HewonderedforthetwentiethtimewhethershehadgottenherhandsonanyofBeitel’sexplodingbullets.Afewwell-placedshotswouldsetsixhundredacresablaze.Herpresenceconfirmedexactlywhatshehadtoldhim.She
wasouttoavengeherfatherbydestroyingwhatRockefellerlovedmost.Morethanlife,morethanmoney,themagnatelovedwhathehadbuilt,andtheConstableHookrefinerywasthebiggestthinghehadeverbuilt.
“Isaac!”ItwasWallyKisley,outofbreath.“Foundaduck.”
Thecopsexchangedbaffledlooks.
BellandWallyheaded
intotherefineryontherun.TheVanDornsblanketingtheplaceunderexplosivesexpertWally’sguidancehaddiscoveredtheshootinggallerytargetonatwenty-thousand-gallonnaphthatank.
“She’shere,”saidIsaacBell.“Thisnailsit.”
“Withhersenseofhumorintact,”saidWally.
Theduckwashighuponthehugetank,nearthetop.Thisonewaspaintedredand
stucktothemetalwallwithamagnet.Electricalwireattachedtoitsrailbracketrandownthetank.Nelliehadconcealedthewireartfullybysnuggingitagainsttheheavycoppercablethatgroundedthetank’slightningrod.
“Canyoudisarmitwithoutblowingusup?”
“I’llanswerthatafterIfindwhatshehookedtotheotherendofthiswire.”
Thetwodetectivestraced
itdownthesideofthetanktoitsconcretefooting.Wallysaid,“Nicejobhidingthewire.Doubtourguyswouldhavenoticediftheduckweren’tbrightred.”
“She’sshowingoff.”Thewiresnakedhalfway
aroundthebottomofthetank,huggingitsedges,andstillparallelingthelightningrodgroundwireuntilitveeredacrosstheoil-soakedgroundanddisappeareddown
astormdrain.Bellsnappedhisfingers.AhuskyVanDornProtectiveServicesoperativelumberedoverwithatoolbox.
“Liftthegrate.Don’tdisturbthewire.”
TheP.S.maninsertedacrowbarinadrainslotandpriedthecast-irongrateoutofitsseat.Itwasveryheavy.BellgavehimahandtippingitoutofthewaywhileWallyheldthewire.
Bellwrinkledhisnose.“What’sthatsmell?”heasked.
“Oilfumes.”Theblistering-hotweathercausedoil,kerosene,andnaphthatovaporize.Theairreekedofflammablegases.
“No,it’sworse.”“You’reright.Like
something’srotting.”Bellsaid,“Iwonderhowa
hundred-poundwomanpickedupthisgrate.Wally,
givethatwireatug.”“Idon’tknowwhatit’s
attachedtoyet.”“Ido.Anditwon’t
explode.”“Thenyoutugit.”He
steppedawayandmadeashowofcoveringhisears.
Bellhauledonthewire.Itpulledeasilyfromthestormdrain.“There’swhatstinks.”
Thewirewaswrappedaroundarawchickenlegthatwasputrefyingintheheat.
Pinnedtothemeatwasasheetofpaper.Nelliehadwritten,“Hello,Wally.GivemyregardstoIsaac.”
“Thelunaticistauntingyou,Isaac.”
BelllookedupattheskyandponderedWally’sremark.Dark,anvil-toppedthunderheadsweremarchingoutofthewest,astheyhadeveryafternoonoftheheatwave.“Nellieisalunatic,”heagreed,“butsheisonesmart
lunatic.Ifshe’stauntingme,shehasaplan.Ijustdon’tknowwhatitisyet.”Eyesstillonthesky,BellrecalledEdnaaskingwhathemeantbya“madman,”neverrealizingtheassassinwasa“madwoman.”HisanswertoherwashisanswertoWallynow.
“Unpredictable.”Howtocatchher?Be
unpredictable,too?Buttherewastherub.WhatdidNellie
Mattersexpect?
—Theinfernalheatwasfinallyherfriend.
NellieMatterswasstymiedbythecombinedpresenceoftheVanDorns,theStandardOilcops,andthecitypolice.Isaac—ofcourseheralliedthem,whoelse?—hadrobbedherofthehighground,everytower,every
cupola,everyhilltopshecoulduseforashootingblind.Herfirstchoice,theremotefiredepartmentwatchtowerontopofthehighesthillonConstableHook,hadcopsguardingtheladder.Somuchforclimbingwithaprettysmileandabulletforthelonefiremanonduty.
Heralternatechoice,thewidow’swalkonTheHooksaloon,offeredshort-range
shotsatstoragetanksabovethecityandtheoildocksbelow.Closeshotsweredoublytemptingwiththeheatcookingcrazy,flight-bendingthermals.Butthewidow’swalkwouldbesuicide.Withascoreofcopsanddetectivescongregatingatthenearbyrefinerygates,shecouldnotescape.
Theheatwasherfriend.Hotweathercausedoiltovaporize.Itchargedtheair
withvolatilegases.SowhatifIsaacBellhadstolenherhighground?NellieMatterswouldplayfastandloose.Getreadyfortheunexpected,Isaac.Asurpriseislurkingunderyou.Flamboyant,theatrical,showyNellieMatterswilltakethelowground.
Theheatboiledthunderstorms.Thunderstormshurledlightning.
Lightningignitedthe
volatilegasesthatcollectedinthetopsofoiltanks.EverytankatConstableHookbristledwithlightningrodsbecauseRockefeller’sultramodernenterpriseobeyedthelawsofphysicsthatstatedthatlightningblewunprotectedoiltankstoKingdomCome.ThosewhochallengedthelawweredirectednextdoortoBayonne,wherelightningstrikesafewyearsbackhad
ignitedfiresthatburnedforthreedaysandlefttheoperationashadowofitsformerself.
NelliewalkeddownwoodenstairsdeepintoTheHooksaloon’scellar.Thewallswererough-hewnstone.Roundtreetrunksformedthebeamsthathadsupportedtheupperfloorsfortwohundredyears.Theoriginalbricksewer,disusednowexcepttocarryrainwaterfromthe
building’sgutters,ledunderConstableStreetintothestormdrainsthatriddledtherefineryhillside.
Shewasnotpronetoreflection,muchlessself-examination,butsheknewthatsomethingdifferentresidedinhermakeupthatrefusedtobeafraid.Whichwasn’ttosaythereweren’tthingsshedisliked,primaryamongthemanythreatofbeingrestrained.Tocrawl
intoathree-foot-diameterdrainpipewastoberestrainedintheextreme.Butshehadnochoice.
Sheclimbedintoitwithhernickel-platedside-cuttingpliersandtheendofthecableshehadhaddeliveredonaspool.Itunrolledfreelyasshedraggeditthroughthesewer.Sheknewshewasinsidetherefineryfencewhenthebrick-walledsewerconnectedwiththemodern
concretedrainpipe.Dulllightpoureddown
fromadrain.Shehadtopassanother.Thethirdwashergoal,besidethetwenty-thousand-gallonnaphthatankwhereshehadleftIsaacatargetduckandarottenchickenleg.Thecablegrewheavyasitgotlongeranddraggedontheconcrete.Asshecrawledundertheseconddrainsheheardthunder.Thereweretwothingsshedid
notwanttoimagine:asuddenrainstormthatwoulddrownheroraboltoflightningstrikingthecable.Sheremindedherselfthatbeingelectrocutedbylightningwasmuchlesslikelythanbeingdrownedbyrainbecauseshehadwiselywaitedtoattachthecabletoalightningrod—fourlightningrods,infact—untiltheendwasaimedatthetankandshewasoutofthedrainpipe.Thethirdgrate
appeared.Almostthere.Sheheardanotherpealofthunder,closerthistime.Shecrawleddirectlyunderthegrate.Raindropswetherface.Sheliftedtheendofthecabletothegrateandusedtheplierstofastenittothecastironwithatwistofwire.
Thensheturnedaroundinthecrampedspaceandstartedcrawlingbacktothesaloonasfastasshecould.Thelastthingshewantedwastobe
wiringtheotherendofthecoppercabletoTheHooksaloon’sgroundwirewhenathunderboltstrucktheharpoonlightningrodsontheroofofthewidow’swalk.
—IsaacBellwasmakingtheroundsofhismenguardingtheoildocks—thehugepiersontheKillVanKullwheretherefinerywasloadingtank
shipswithkerosene,gasoline,andnaphtha—whenapuffoficyairannouncedanothersquallsizzlinginfromtheUpperBay.Inthemiddleofthetightlittlestormhesawoneofhischarteredsteamlaunchesheadingforthedock.ItsbowwasweighteddownbyGradyForrer,whostoodgrippingacoiledlineandignoringtherain.
Bellsteppedforward,Forrerthrewtheline
skillfully,andinamomenttheywereconversinginthepartialshelterofaloadingshed.“Oneofmyboyswasrereadingtheassassinreports,”Forrerbellowedoverthewind,thefallingrain,andthehuffingofseveralsteamengines.“HeremindedmethatwelearnedthatBillMatterswasmovinguptheladderwhenhewasinvitedtojoinaStandardOilGangprivateventure.”
Thunderechoeddownthetank-coveredhills.Aboltoflightninglittherooftopsofthecity.Anotherboltblazedoverthetanksabovethecityandlandedharmlesslyonalightningrod.
“ItmadehimoneoftheboystopartnerupwithAverellComstockandClydeLapham,eventhoughitwasasortofjokesubsidiary.”
“Whatkindofjoke?”“SharesinaConstable
Hooksaloon.”“Here?”“Acrossfromthefront
gate.TheynameditTheHook.”
Bellboltedintothestorm.Forrerracedalongside
him,slippingandslidingontheoilypath.“ComstockandLaphamaredead.Mattersisinjail.”
“LeavingNellieto‘inherit.’”
—NellieMatterswasfinishingconnectingthecoppercableshehadstrungfromthenaphthatanktotheheavywirethatgroundedthesaloon’slightningrod.Thethunderstormragingoutsidewasthebiggestindays.Thesoonershecouldletgoofthehighlyconductivecable,thebetter.
“Hey,whatareyoudoing?”
Oneofthebartendershadcomedownthestairsthey’dbeenspecificallyorderednotto.
“WhatdoesitlooklikeI’mdoing?”
“Whatareyou,anelectrician?”
Herbagwasopen.TheSavageanditstelescopewereinthebottom,stillwrappedintheirhorseblanket.Buttools
wereout.Shesaid,“You’renotsupposedtobedownhere.”
Hefinallyrecognizedheras“Eddie,”thenephewofthenewowner.
“Sorry,Eddie.Where’syouruncle?Haven’tseenhimaround.”
“WenttoAtlanticCitytogetawayfromthisheat.”
“Whatareyoudoing?”“Myunclewantsthis
wiredhere.”
“Whatfor?”“Whydon’tyouaskhim
whenhegetsback?”“Somethingfishy’sgoing
on.”“Whatareyoutalking
about?”“Ihadajobasan
electrician’shelper.That’sagroundwireyou’remessingwith.”
Hegrabbedherarm.“Man,you’reskinny.”
—IsaacBellleftGradyForrerfarbehindasheranfulltiltuptherefineryhill,throughthefrontgates,andacrossConstableStreet.HehadnoticedTheHooksaloon.Itlookedlikeanoldseacaptain’shousewithawidow’swalkontheroof.Heshovedthroughtheswingingdoors.
Thebarroomwasemptyexceptforafloormanager,whoshoutedfrombehindthebar,“We’reclosed!”
“Wherearethecopswatchingthewidow’swalk?”
“Home,”saidthefloormanager.“Wedon’tpayoffcopstohangaround—Hey,whereyougoing?”
Bellpausedatthefootofthestairsonlylongenoughtoturnthefullforceofhiseyesontheman.“Staythere,you
won’tgethurt.”Heboundedupthreefull
stories,thenintoaswelteringattic,andupsteepstairsontothewidow’swalkfullyexpectingtofindtheassassinaimingherrifle.Buttheroomwasempty.Nelliewasnotinit.Thunderpealed.Hestalkedtothewindowsandglaredoutattherefinery.Heknewwitheveryfiberinhisbeingthathewasclose.Butshewasnothere.
—Aderringerslugintheshoulderhadknockedthefightandthecuriosityoutofthenosybartender.Nelliepointedtheguninhisface,fishedsteelhandcuffsfromthebottomofhertoolbag,andtossedthemtohim.“Putoneonyourwrist.”
Stunnedanddisbelieving,hedidashewastold.
“Theotheronthecable.Above,there,whereit’snailedtothewall.”
“Hey,wait.It’slightningoutside!It’llelectrocuteme.”
“Betteroddsthanthisbullet,”shesaid.“Whoknowsiflightningwillstrike?”
“Ithityesterday.Twicelastweek.”
Nellielaughed.“Didn’tanybodyevertellyou?Lightningcan’tstriketwice.”
“It’sthehighestbuildingonthestreet,higherthanthetanks.Itgetshitallthetime.Whydoyouthinktheyhavefourseparaterods?”
“Bullet?”Hegaveaterrifiedgroan
andclickedthemanaclearoundthecable.
—IsaacBellrackedhisbrain,tryingtofigureoutwhat
Nelliewasuptonow.Havingthehouserightnexttotherefinerywasapowerfulopportunity.Howwouldsheuseitifnottoshootfromthisbrilliantlysituatedobservatory?
Leaningahandonthewindowframeashegazeduponthestorm,hefeltathick,roundedridgeonthesash.Itlookedandfeltlikeithadbeenpaintedoverandoverfordecades.Butitwas
notmadeofwoodliketherestoftheroom.Rope?No,cable.Metalcable.StilltryingtowinkleoutNellie’sderangedthoughts,hepickedatitidlywithhisbootknifeandsawagleamofbrassorcopper.Hetracedituptotheceiling,outthewall,underthegutter,andontotheroof.Heflungopenthewindow,thrustheadandtorsointotherain,andswunggracefullyontothesill.Therehestood
tohisfullheightwithhisbacktothefour-storydropandtracedthecableontotheflatroof,whereitsplitintofourseparatestrands.Thestrandswenttothefourcorners.Oneachcornerwasafull-sizebronzereplicaofawhaler’sharpoon.
“Nellie,”hewhispered,“Iunderestimatedyou.”
Thunderpealed.Belllookeddownand,asifhehadconjuredherwithhisvoice,
sawaslightfigurehurryacrossConstableStreet.Itwasher,carryingatoolbaglongenoughforhergun.Lightningflashed.Nelliestoppedandlookedupatthewidow’swalk.Theireyesmet.
BellshoutedwithallthepowerinhislungstotheVanDornsatthegate,“Gether!”Athunderclapdrownedouthisvoice.Nellieblewhimakiss,andaboltoflightning
T43
enmillionvoltsofelectricitystormeddowntheground
wire,electrocutedthebartendermanacledtoit,andragedoutthesewerandunderConstableStreet.Fumesfromspilledoilweretrappedintherefinerystormdrains.These
thelightningignited.Fireballsshotfromthedraingrates.AtthefarendofthecableNellieMattershadstrung,theelectricityjumpedthroughtheairanddrilledaholeinthesteelwallofanaphthatank.
—IsaacBellheardtheStandardOilfirewhistleschorusghostlyscreams.
Hestaggeredtohisfeet,vaguelyawarethatathunderbolthadslammedhimbackthroughthewindows.Hehadlandedonthewidow’swalkfloor.Heknewhehadn’ttakenadirecthit;neitherhisskinnorhisclothingwasburned.Buthisheartwaspounding,asiftheimmensesurgeofelectricitypassingsonearhadalmoststoppedit.Hislungsfelthalf-paralyzed,hardlyableto
pumpair,untilhecollectedhisspiritanddemandedtheygetbackonthejob.
Hisvisioncleared.Hesawcolumnsofflamefringedwithblacksmoke.
Intherefineryyard,fireballsdancedjigsamongthetanks.
BellscannedthechaosbelowforsignsofNellieandquicklyrealizedthatwhatlookedlikechaoswasorderlychaos.ThankstotheVan
Dornadvancewarning,themenrunningupanddownConstableStreetanddashinginandoutoftherefinerygatesweremovingwithpurpose.Thecompany’sfiremenhurriedthroughtheyards,ringingbellsanddragginghose.Blazingoiloverflowedfromaburningtank.Workmenmovedswiftlytopumpoilfromtanksnearthefiretodistantemptytanksandintobarges
onthewaterfront.Othersdugtrenchestodivertburningoilfromvulnerabletanks.
Nelliewasgone.ButBellwasconvincedthatshewouldnotrunfromthefiresshehadset.Shewouldstayandfinishwhatshehadstarted.Shewouldnotfinditeasy.Preparedforthebattle,theConstableHookrefineryshewastryingtodestroywasthebestdefendedintheworld.Itwasfightingforitslifebut
notyetdesperate.IfBellknewNellie,that
wouldnotdiscourageher.Thequestionwashowwouldonewomanalonecontinuetoattack?Hestayedonhiswidow’swalkvantagepointtofindtheanswer.
Atankroofblew.Thickcrudeoilbubbledout.Thesidewallscollapsedandariverofcruderusheddownthehill.Theblacktorrentsplitwheretheslope
flattened.Someofitcollected,formingahalf-acreblacklake.Shimmeringintheheat,itroaredspontaneouslyintoflames.Globsofflamingtarflewintheairandlandedontankroofs.Firemenclimbedthetankswithshovelsandhoses.Theyextinguishedthefiresonallbutone.Itignitedwitharoarandgushedsmokethattheflamessuckedinandflungatthesky.
Thecrudethatcontinuedtorushdownthehillwasflowingtowardthewaterfront.Theriversplitagainsuddenlyandthemainbranchrampagedontothedocks,caughtfire,andignitedstacksofcaseoil.Mooringlinesandtughawsersweresetalight,andastheflamesconsumedthem,theyparted,sendingshipsandworkboatsadriftonatideofburningoil.Theshipscaught
fireandburnedswiftly.Flamesleapedupriggingfasterthansailorscouldclimb.Tugboatsracedtotherescueandbattedflamesdownwithtorrentsfromtheirfirenozzles.
Thesecondstreamofoilveeredbelowthedocksandsplashedagainstathree-storyhotelandrestaurantonapierintheKillwitharoofboardthatread:
GOODNEWSCAFÉROW,FISH,EATDINNER,AND
DRINKASOCIALGLASS
Theoilignited.Flameflasheduptherestaurant’swoodenwalls.Amanandwomanincookwhitesranoutluggingacashregisterandaglasscaseofcigars.Theburningoilencircledthebuildingandclosedinonthecouplefrombothsides.They
rantowardthewateronapathswiftlynarrowing.Thefirechasedthemontothedocktothewater’sedge,wheretheyteetered,clutchingtheirrescuedtreasures.
IfIhadn’tmissedmyshotatNellieMatters,Bellthought,thesepeoplewouldbesafe.
AB&Orailroadtugboatswoopedagainstthedock.Deckhandspulledthemaboard.Buttheburningoil
chasingthemsplashedoffthedockontothewater.Floating,stillburning,itsurroundedthetugboatwitharingoffire.Sixtugssteamedtoitsaid,firenozzlespumpingwatertoconfinetheburningoilwhiletheirstrickensistersteamedawayandwettingdownoneanother’swheelhousestocoolpaintbubblingintheheat.Thetugsformedacordon,sprayingtopreventthefirefromspreadingonthewater
tonearbyshipsandpiers.AfterIsaacBellsawthe
burningoilencircletherestaurant,andthenthecouple,andthenthetug,hesuddenlyrealizedhowNellieMatterswouldattacknext.Heturnedaroundandlookedupthehill.TheslopewasashallowinclineandTheHooksaloonwastall.Heclimbedoutthewindowagainandontotheroofofthewidow’swalk.Fromthatvantagehe
couldseeoverthecity’stenementroofs.Theswiftlyexpandingoilrefineryhadcontinuedbuildinghigherupthehill.Tankyardsandkeroseneandgasolinestillswereeverywhere,below,around,andupbehindthecity.
NowhesawConstableHookasNelliesawit.Hehaddubbedher“heiress”toTheHooksaloon,but,infact,shewasalsoheiresstoher
father’sdreamofbuildingonahillycapeanultramoderngravity-fedrefinerywithaccesstothesea.Therefinerythatherfatherhadenvisionedandtheboomtownthatsprangupwithitwereoneinhermind.IfBillMatterscouldn’thavetherefinery,havinglostittoRockefeller,hewoulddestroyit.Sincehewaslockedinajailcell,NellieMatterswoulddestroyitforhim.Bytheirwayof
thinking,thecityithadnurturedandultimatelysurroundeddidnotexist.
Heswungbackinthewindowandraceddownthestairsandacrossthestreettothegates.WallyKisleywasthere.“DidyouseeNellie?”Bellasked.
“No.Iwasjustlookingforyou.YouO.K.?”
“Weforcedherhand,”Bellsaid.“Thiswasn’therfirstchoice,settingitoff
downhere.”“It’sgonnabearecord
breakeranyway.Goodthingthecompanydoubleduponfiremen.”
“Ifwehadn’tblockedthehighground,she’dhaveattackedfromupthere.Youcan’tseefromhere,butIsawitfromtheroof.Amammothcrudeoiltankabovethecity.”
Wallynodded.“Number14.Thefirstofthenewcrudestoragetankstofeedthestills
below.Onehundredthousandgallons.”
“That’shergoal—aJohnstownFloodofburningoil.”
—WallyKisleywasincredulous.“Whyattackthecity?”
“Thereisaderangedlogictoherscheme,”saidBell.“Whileeveryone’stryingto
protectthecity,shecanconcentrateontherefinery.”
HeborrowedapolicesergeantandasquadoflocalcopsfromEddieEdwards’headquartersattherefinerygates.ThecopsledhimandWallyonashortcutpasttwistedruinsofburned-outtanksandthroughtankyardsandstills.Firemenweredelugingthemwithhosewatertocoolthem.Theyenteredthecitystreets,
passingaschoolfromwhichthechildrenhadbeensenthomeandahospitalintowhichinjuredfirefighterswerestumbling.
BellspottedEdnaMatters,somberinblack.ShehadanEveningSunpresscardinherhatbandandwastakingdowninshorthandthewordsoftherail-thin,harried-lookingchiefofConstableHook’svolunteerfirefighters.“Gossipthatwerefusedto
fightStandardOil’sfireisbunk.Weareprotectingtwentythousandpeopleinourcity—families,friends,andneighbors.”
“Canyouspeaktotherumorthatwaterisrunningsolowthatyouwon’thaveenoughpressuretofillyourhoses?”
“Bunk!WegetourwaterdirectfromtheHackensackRiverandtheHackensackiswetyet.”
Threefirehorsesgallopedpastpullingasteamerpumpengineandthechiefjumpedontheback.Ednaclosedhernotebook.“Hello,Isaac.Thankyouforlettingmeseemyfathertheotherday.”
“HaveyouseenNellie?”“Ofcoursenot.IfIhad,I
wouldhaveturnedherin.Whatcouldmakeherdo...”Hervoicetrailedoff.“WhatevermadeFatherdoit,Isuppose.”
Bellsaid,“Becarefulhere,Edna.Don’tletthefiregetaboveyou.”
Thecitystreetsendedabruptlyatashinynewchain-linkfence.Ithadagatemannedbytwocops.OntheslopeabovethegateloomedTank14,whichwaspaintedwhitetoreflecttheheatofthesun.
“Howcouldshemiss?”saidWally.“BigasthebattleshipMaineandtwiceas
explosive.”Freshlypouredconcrete
footingswerelaidonbothsidesofthetank.Sheetsofsteelwerestackednexttothem,awaitingassembly.
“Ineedtwentystrongmen,”Belltoldthesergeant.
“Thereain’tamaninTheHooknotfightingthefire.”
“O.K.Takefourarmedmen,emptythejail,bringtheprisonershere.”
“Idon’tthinkI’mallowed
—”Bellcuthim.“A
championsniperwithagunthatfiresexplodingbulletsisgoingtoblastaholeinthattankbyhittingitrepeatedlyinthesamespotuntiloneofthemignitesacrudeoilfirethatwilldrownyourcityinflames.Ineedyourprisonerstoerectabarricade.Now!”
Thesergeanttookoffatadeadrun.Bellremovedhiscoatandsaidtotheothers,
“Let’sgettowork.”Wallyaskedhimquietly,
“You’rejustguessingaboutthosebullets,aren’tyou?Whoknowsifthesmithactuallymadethem.”
“Iknow,”saidBell.“Ifoundoneinhisshop.Itlookedlikehehadsetuptorunabatchofthem.MyonlyguessisthatNelliegotthefirstbatch.Knowingher,sheprobablydid.”
“Youfoundone?Whereis
it?”“Inmyrifle.”
—Whennightfell,thefireslightedConstableHookbrightasday,fromTank14onitshighesthilltotheKillVanKullwaterfront,whereflameswereeatingthroughthepiers,consumingthesheds,andburningthepilingsdowntothewaterline.An
entirewarehouseofcaseoilwasfuelingapillarofflamesvisiblefromeverypointofNewYorkHarbor,andaburningbargeofoilbarrelsglaredatStatenIslandlikevaudevillelimelights.
IsaacBellhadstillnotseenatraceofNellieMatters.ButTank14wasshieldedonallfoursidesbyahastilyerectedbarrierofsheetsteel.“Nowshecan’tpiercethetankbyhittingitrepeatedlyin
thesamespot,”BelltoldJosephVanDorn.“Andsinceit’sonthetopofthehill,thereisnovantagepointontheHook—nohill,nobuilding,notree—highenoughtoshootthroughtheroof.”
“She’llshootothertanks,”saidVanDorn.
“She’llstartfires.We’llputthemout.Eventually,she’llrunoutofammunitionandstrength.”
A44
mandaFairewasbitterlydisappointed.
TheredheadedkeynotespeakerfortheStatenIslandSuffragetteConvocationattheCunardestateonGrymesHillhadexpectedherusualpackedhouserapturously
chantinghercatchywatchword“Women’svotesareonlyFaire.”ButdespiteherappearancebeingadvertisedinalltheNewYorknewspapers,andherarrivalheraldedbyamagnificentscarletballoontetheredonthelawn,halfthechairsinthelecturetentwereempty.
“I’mafraidwelostsomeofourgentlementothefirebugtourists,”apologized
hermortifiedhostess.Shegesturedhelplesslyatthesmoke-stainedwesternsky.“NewYork,JerseyCity,Newark,andtheOrangesareallflockingtoseetheconflagration.”
“Well,”Amandasaid,bravely,“thosewhotookthetroubletocomedeservetohearme.”
“I’llintroduceyou.”“I’llmakemyown
introduction,thankyou.”
Thatwasallsheneeded,awindbagdrivingtherestoftheaudiencetothefire.
Amanda,whohadpositionedherpodiumsothatherballooncreatedastrikingbackdropdirectlybehindher,stoodtothinapplause.Assheopenedhermouthtobeginherspeech,shecouldnothelpbutnoticearestivestirintheseats.Nowwhat?
Theywerestaringather.Pasther.Mouthswere
droppingopen.Awomancried,“There
goesyourballoon.”
—NellieMattersneverdoubtedthewindwouldbeinherfavor.Thingsalwaysworkedoutthatway.Justwhensheneededit,ithadshiftedsouth,blowingtheredballoonnorththeshorttwomilesfromtheGrymesHillestatetoTank
14.Fromathousandfeetintheair,shecouldseewhathadburnedinConstableHookandwhatremainedtoburn.Shewasdismayed.Thefiresweregoingout.Therewassomuchleftuntouched.
Onthebrightside,theSavage’smagazineindicatorread“5.”FiveofBeitel’sexplodingbullets.Herexplodingbullets.Shehadthoughtthemup.Shewastheircreator.Thegunsmith
hadonlymadethem.Tank14wouldfinishthe
job.Shespottediteasily,a
hugewhitecircleonthetopofthehighesthillonConstableHookatthepointwherethecapemetthemainland,smackinthemiddleofIsaacBell’sshield.CleverIsaac.Butthethinroofofthetankwashers.Sheaimeddeadcenter,adjustedfortheballoon’sswaying,
andfired.Throughthetelescopeshesawthebulletexplodeinaredflash.Itdidn’tpiercetheroof,butitmusthaveweakenedit.Oneortwomoreshotsstrikingthatprecisespotshoulddothetrick,andthelittleredflashwoulddetonatetheflammablegasinthetopofthetank,whichwouldignitetheoceanofoilbelow.
Shefiredagain.Bull’s-eye!Ithitthescar
fromherfirstshot.Thepowerfultelescopeshowedacrackemanatingfromthescar.Thenextwoulddoit.Isaac,whereareyou?
Shelookedabout.Thereyouare!Hewasleaningonthe
shieldandpointingarifleather.PoorIsaac.Ican’tshootyou.Butyoucan’tshootmeeither.Whatapairwemake.Youbettergetawayfromthetankbecauseitisaboutto
explode.Asifhehadheardher
thoughts,hesuddenlyran,crouchedlow,clutchinghisrifle.No,hehadn’theardher.Theballoonwasmovingandhehadtoshifthisfieldoffire.
“What’stheuse?”shewhisperedasshelinedupherfinalshot.“Wecouldnevershooteachother.”
—IsaacBellhadoneexplodingbullet.Hedoubtedthattheimpactofstrikingtheballoon’sthinfabricskinwoulddetonatethegas.Norwouldpassingthroughthegasandthefabricasitflewout.Iftheshellcouldbesetoffthatlightly,whatwouldhavekeptitfromexplodinginhisfingerswhenheloaded
therifle?Theonlysolidobjecton
theballoonwasthesteelloadringatitsmouth.
Hefounditinthetelescope.Itwasalmosttooeasy.Thetelescopewassopowerfulandtheriflewassofinelybalancedandtheballoonsosteadyinthelightbreeze.Hecouldnotmissevenifhewantedto.
Hesawaredflashwherethebulletexploded.Inthe
nextinstant,thousandsofcubicfeetofgasbillowedintoflamesaboveNellie’shead.Theballoon’sskinmelted,butitdidnotfall,asiftheheatoftheburninggassomehowpinnedittothesky.
Nellielookedup.Bellsawherwholebodystiffenwithterror.
Theburninggassnakedtentaclesofflamedownintothebasket.
Hewouldnotletherdie
thatway.Hefoundherbeautiful
faceinthetelescope.Heexhaledlightlytosteadyhishand.
Hecaressedthetrigger.
A
45ONEMONTHLATERTHEEMPIRESTATEEXPRESS
rchieAbbottbarelymadethetrain,runninglikecrazyto
answeralast-minuteinvitationfromIsaacBell:
“I’llbuyyoubreakfastontheEmpire.”
Whenheenteredthediner,Bellwasalreadyseatednexttoanexquisitelydressedgentabouttheirage.Belljumpedupandinterceptedhimbeforehereachedthetable.“Thanksforcoming.”
“OfcourseIcame.I’vebeenworried.It’sbeenawhile.Since...well,youknowwhatsince.Howareyou,Isaac?”
“Keepingbusy,”saidBell.“Bestthingwhenyouhavealotonyourmind.”
“Where’veyoubeenallmonth?”
“BackandforthtoChicago.Practicallylivingonthe20thCentury.Wouldyoudomeafavor?”
“Sure.”“I’mstoppingatCroton—
appointmentatPocanticoHills.WouldyouhelpthatgentlemanontotheOssining
train?”“What’swrongwithhim?
Helooksfit.”BellhandedArchieakey.
“You’llhavetounlockhimfromthetable.”
“Oh.Ossining.SingSing.Whoareyoutakingtojail?”
“LaurenceRosania.”“Rosania?”Uponhearinghisname
shoutedthelengthofthecar,theChicagojewelthieftossedArchieAbbottanelegant
salute.“Comeon,”saidBell,“I’ll
introduceyou.Hightimeyoumet.”
“Isaac!Hewasmine.Ialmosthadhim.”
“Ijustcouldn’tthinkofabetterwaytokeepbusythantocatchajewelthief.”
—“Ofalltheterribleaccusationsvoicedagainst
you,”IsaacBelltoldJohnD.Rockefeller,“Ihaveneverhearditsaidthatyoudon’tpayyourdebts.”
“You’reimplyingIoweyousomething?”theoldmansaidcoldly.
“Youowemeyourlife.Twice.BillMattersinGermanyandhisdaughterinWestchester.Nottomentionmostofyourrefinery.”
“Iamdisappointedinyou,”saidRockefeller.“You
neverstruckmeasthesortofmanwhowouldtrytocashinonsavingmylife.”
“I’msavinganotherlife.”“Whatwillthis‘debt’cost
me?”“Youwillpaymeinfull
bygrantingEdnaMattersanexclusiveinterview.”
“Ineversubmittointerviews.”
“SpeaktoheropenlyandfreelyforaslongasittakesandyouandIwillbeeven.”
Rockefellersatsilentlyforatime.
Whenhespokehesaid,“I’mtoldMissMattersisinbadshape.”
“Verybadshape,”saidBell.“Shelostherfatherandshelosthersister.Shelovedthemboth.”
“Abittermanandalunatic.”
“Butstillherfatherandstillhersister.Sheisbesideherselfwithgriefandguilt
andconfusion.”“Isinterviewingme
supposedtobesomesortofrestcure?”
“Itismylasthope.”“That’sallyouask?”“That’sallIdemand.”“Ineversubmitto
interviews,”Rockefellerrepeated.“Youaredemandingalot.”
“Sheisworthit,”saidIsaacBell.
—IsaacBelldroveEdnaMatterstoRockefeller’sWestchesterestate.
TheywerebuildingafencearoundPocantico.Themanatthegatehousesaidthatasix-foot-highironbarriertwentymileslongwouldsurroundtheentireproperty.Therewastalkofmovingtherailroad.Gunfireechoedin
thewoods.Thegamekeepershadorderstoshootstraydogs.
ThefencecaughtEdna’sattention.“Whathappened?”sheaskedBell.“HasJDRgonemad?”
“He’safraid.”“Heshouldbeafraid.He
shouldhideinterror.Hedrovemypoorfathermad.”
ThehousewhereRockefellerwaslivingwhileworkcontinuedonthemain
mansioncameintoview.“Stopyourauto!”Edna
cried.Bellstoppedthe
Locomobile.Shewasdeeplyupset.
“Idon’tknowifIcandothis,”Ednasaid.“Infact,IknowIcan’t.TakemebacktoNewYork.”
Bellheldherhandsinhisandlookedherintheeye.“Whynot?”
“Ineversuspectedmy
father.Ineversuspectedmysister.Myownblood.Some‘womannewspaperman’Iam.HowcanItrustmyjudgment?”
“Therichest,mostpowerfulbusinessmaninthehistoryoftheworldisofferingauniqueopportunitytoawonderfulwriter.Nooneelsecandoitbutyou.Youoweittohistory.”
“Howdidyoutalkhimintoit?”
IsaacBelltookEdnainhisarms.Heheldhercloseforalongtime.Thenhewhispered,“ItoldMr.Rockefellerthathewouldnevergetabetterchancetoleaveanhonestaccountofhimself.”
THIRTY-FIVEYEARSLATER,1940POCANTICOHILLS,WESTCHESTER
IsaacBellsweptthroughthefrontgatesofPocanticoHillsinamidnight-blueBugattiType57Cdropheadcoupe
andracedupthelongdriveway.Silveredhairlentdignitytohisnaturalelegance,buthestilllookedtooruggedtobediminishedbyhisyears.Ifthatthreathoveredontime’shorizon,itdidnotseemtotroublehim.
TheBugatti,aroadsterwithsculptedlinesassmoothasoil,roundedthefinalbend,holdingtheroadastightlyasifonrails,andBellstoppedinfrontofamansion.Well-
proportionedandsolidlybuilt,thehouselookedlikeithadstoodoverlookingtheHudsonRiverforever,althoughherecalledpassingbyinhisLocomobilewhenthestonemasonswerelayingitsfoundations.
“Daddy!”Aflaxen-hairedcoed
boundedoutthedoor,jugglingaportabletypewriter,abulgingbriefcase,andanovernight
bag.Theestatelibrarianfollowedwithanarmloadofbooks.“Comebackanytime,Amber.”
“Howdiditgo?”Bellaskedinthecar.“Stillwanttobeanewspaperwoman?”
“Morethanever.Theinterviewwasamazing.Ican’tthankyouenoughforgettingmein.Ireadeverydayandstayedawakehalfthenightstypingupmyshorthandnotes.Rockefeller
toldE.M.Hockstoriesnoone’severreadanywhere.Nowondertheylockeditupuntilhedied.”
“Ednacouldgetarhinocerostoconfessitslifehistory,”saidBell.“She’dhavemadeagreatdetective...Aswouldyou.”
“Idon’twanttobeadetective.Iwanttobeareporterlikeher.DidyouknowthatwhenJDRwasalmostseventyyearsold,he
personallynegotiatedaright-of-wayforapipelineacrossPersiarightunderthenoseoftheCzarofRussia?”
“Ialwayswondered,”saidBell.“Verylittleofitmadethepapersatthetime.Theywereallworriedaboutarevolution.”
“DidyouknowthathetraveledtoBakuwithVanDorndetectivesforbodyguards?”
“That’sanoldVanDorn
legend...Didhehappentomentionwhichdetectives?”
“HetoldE.M.Hockhecouldnotrevealtheirnamesincasetheyhadtooperateclandestinelyonanothercase...Daddy,doyouthinkRockefellerdeservedtobethemosthatedmaninAmerica?”
“Whatdotheinterviewstellyou?”Bellcountered.
“E.M.Hockwroteinherintroductionthatshehada
personalprejudicebecauseofJDR’sbusinessdealingswithherfather.Havingadmittedthat,shethensaidthatshethoughthedeservedtobethemosthatedmaninAmerica.Buthekeptsayingeverythinghedidwasright.Andhereallyseemedtobelieveit.Whatdoyouthink?”
Bellsaid,“Hebroughtkerosenelighttoordinarypeople,whichallowedthemtoreadandlearnatnightafter
work.Hediditbyimposingorderonchaos.Hethoughthewassmarterthanmostpeople,whichhewas.Buthewasnotsmartenoughtoknowwhentostop.”
“...Dad?”“What?”“Didyouactuallyknow
EdnaMatters?”“MissMattersandIwere
friends.”“Friends?”Hisdaughter’s
inquiringeyebrowarchedas
sharplyasaminiatureMatterhorn.
HeranupanddowntheBugatti’sgearswhileheponderedhisreply.Shewouldmakeagoodreporteroragooddetective;shewasnotafraidtoaskhardquestions.
“BeforeImetyourmother.”
Hisfierceblueeyestookonatingeofvioletasherecalledtryingto“save”Edna
fromblamingherselffornotseeingsomethingthatwouldhavesomehowgivenherthepowertostopherfatherandhersisterfrombecomingmonsters.
BelldownshiftedtopassaNewYorkStatePolicecar.
Afterthesirenfadedbehindhim,heletgooftheshiftertotakehisdaughter’shandandansweredwiththeauthorityofamanwhohadknownsincethe1906San
FranciscoEarthquakeforwhomhisheartwasspoken.
“IthinkyouknowhowIfeelaboutyourmother.”
“You’renutsforher.”“Fromthedaywemet.”
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