Lincolns good eye glittered warmly. It might. But, as youll recall, there was an explosion last nightspeaking of spies.
Im sorry, come again?
Two
men, he told him. If not spies, then mercenariessent to destroy the Fiddlehead, and kill the man whod created it. From Gideons report, I doubt either one of them wouldve thought to make the attack alone. Someone paid them to make the effort.
Any idea who?
A slow, knowing smile spread across Lincolns crooked face. Who? Not precisely. But I appreciate that we both understand the why, and that we choose not to insult one another by pretending.
You want to blame warhawks like Desmond, or his brethren on the other side of the line. But why would they go after your calculation machine? How many people even know it exists? How many people would put stock in the conclusions of a a a fortune-telling heap of nuts and bolts, assembled by a colored man? No one.
I may be permanently seated and long out of office, but Im not exactly no one, Lincoln replied stiffly. Gideons work is sound. The machine is unprecedented, a marvel of scienceand you just waithe waved one warning fingerhistory will bear this out. The war has to end. We have to turn our attention to the leper threat. We must bury all the dead and see to it that they remain buried.
I cant push a button and end hostilities, Grant fussed but again he thought of Desmond Fowler, whose clandestine program might do just that. You cant ask for such a thing based on a pile of paper that no one understands but you. And your team of tinkers, he amended quickly. I cant go in front of Congress with the message that Abe Lincoln says we should all find some hobby other than war because dead men walk and we should do something about that, instead. You have to bring me more than this.
Lincoln slumped back in his chair, his good eye narrowed. I dont have more. Not yet. And someoneperhaps a Southerner, perhaps someone in your own administrationis working hard to make sure I dont come up with any additional evidence.
How so?
Because they went after Gideon, and when they couldnt catch him, they went for his family. Theyve taken his mother and nephewkidnapped the pair of them without so much as a note. Dragged them back to Alabama, I suppose. But Ive called in a good man to recover them, one of the old Liberation Rangers. Youd know the name if I said it, but then youd have to do something about him, so Ill leave it there.
Ah. Then I can make my guess. I remember the old case wellnasty business, that. I appreciate your discretion. But as for the scientists family you think it was a lure? Something to take him away from his work?
As likely as not. Gideon is the only man on earth who could rebuild or re-create the machine. Someone, somewhere, already knows what the Fiddlehead will tell usand without that machine, its our suspicions versus their profit. Our word against theirs.
The word of a former slavea political fugitive. It wont carry much weight.
Then add the word of a former president. A political figure, instead. It will carry more weight than you think, and they know it. Theyre afraid Ill say something, but theyre unwilling or unable to come for me. So they reach instead for Gideon, thinking that I have nothing without him, and thinking that hes vulnerable.
And I expect theyll learn the hard way that hes not. Grant mustered a friendly grin.
Lincoln closed his eye. When he opened it again, it was to plead with him. Yes, they will. But I need your help while I hold them at bay.
What can I give you? Money? Men? I know you dont think much of the Secret Service, and neither do I sometimes but theyre at our disposal.
Oh, no. I cant trust them any more than you can. Ill stick with the Pinks, if you dont mindtheyve kept me alive this long. Mr. President, my old friend what I need is information.
Three
One long, cold week.
To hell with it, she muttered. After all, no one was present to object: Rose Anderson was out of the office chasing down a murderer in Minnesota;
Fred Williams was eyeballs deep in legal paperwork following that affair in New York last Tuesday; and Timothy Hall had been sent down to the jailhouse to bail out Percy Joneswho had gone and done it again, and might get fired this time, depending on the bosss mood.
Only James Elders was left on the main floor of the Pinkerton National Detective Agency office. And yes, hed probably notice if she moved seats, because he noticed every time she moved anything, and was not precisely subtle about it.
Maria wasnt worried that hed tattle to Mr. Pinkerton, who probably cared less than anyone in the whole of Chicago, but she didnt want to look weak. She hated looking weak like men hated looking foolish, and she worked studiously to prove that she was up to the same tasks as everyone else.
In fact, no one really doubted it. No one dared doubt it, because Allan Pinkerton himself had brought her on board last spring, politics and precedent be damned. If the old Union spy believed that the former Confederate spy was worth her salt, then everyone else who wanted a paycheck had best believe it, too. But that didnt mean they had to be nice to her, so every day she worked to prove that she belonged.