At Harper's Ferry
*
The next morning found Jack behind his desk, looking through Tinen’s book. An empty plate sat near his elbow, scattered with the remnants from the breakfast that he had cooked for himself and Ezra. He was smoking a cigar, flicking the ashes into his half-eaten eggs. He looked up as he heard the sound of several pair of feet tromping up the stairs. They came to a stop at the front door. Without a knock, the door quickly opened and in stepped Forsythe with two men who had flat, official expressions. The two also had gun belts strapped around their waists. Forsythe stared at Jack, a blaze of indignation in his eyes.
Jack calmly opened a desk drawer and slipped the receipt book inside. He stood up and said, “The common practice for a gentleman is to knock before entering."
Forsythe scowled. “Don’t you dare talk to me in that manner. You know I can have you thrown into jail and have the key lost for a long time. There’s a war on, and no one is going to miss the likes of you. So you best listen to me carefully.”
Jack sat down again and deliberately put his legs up on the corner of the desk. “Go ahead and tell me why you came here.”
“Last night, there was a discovery at the Gay Lady Saloon. Opening time had passed and the place still appeared to be closed. Some of the more ambitious customers forced their way in to the back room and what do you think they found?”
“I don’t know, why don’t you tell me?”
“They found the owner, a Patrick Tinen, dead.”
“Is that so?” he said without emotion.
“This Tinen appeared to have hung himself in the back of his saloon,” Forsythe added.
Jack raised an eyebrow and then inhaled deeply on the cigar. “I’m sorry to hear that. He may have known something about the location of Lawrence.”
Forsythe continued. “In case you didn’t know, we had a man inside the bar watching the premises. Miss Hanson also told us about the note she found in her brother’s room. I know you went there and talked to Tinen.”
“I’m not going to deny that,” Jack said. “He was an obvious person to talk to concerning Lawrence – I’m surprised you didn’t take the same steps.”
“We tried, but he didn’t have anything to tell us. Apparently my men didn’t try hard enough or bribe enough. What exactly did you two talk about?”
Jack stared at Forsythe directly in the eyes. He said slowly and precisely, “I am sure you understand that I am obliged to keep the confidential information I gain about my cases and I am under no pressure to tell you anything.” He then paused, and saw that Forsythe was about to speak, but continued talking before he could be cut off. “We talked about Lawrence, of course. Tinen didn’t have too much information to offer, other than the fact that Lawrence was there the night he disappeared. I gave him a few dollars for his trouble and then went on my way.”
“Do you know why Tinen would have killed himself?”
“I can’t imagine why, unless he was heartbroken over Lawrence,” he replied sarcastically. Jack then leaned further back in his chair and affected a mood of boredom.
“Don’t joke with me,” Forsythe said, his face flushed with anger.
“I didn’t ask you to come here, Mister Forsythe,” Jack said, still leaning back in his chair. “I didn’t ask you to bring your two henchmen to try and menace me, either. I suggest you leave before I throw you out.”
Forsythe stepped closer, leaned forward and placed his palms on the desk. He stared hard into Jack’s eyes. “Well, detective, I’m not leaving until I've finish talking. I came here to discuss the possibility that Tinen was murdered. It doesn’t look like suicide when his face is bruised and someone struck him on the back of the head hard enough to crack his skull.”
“That does sound like murder,” Jack replied with a relaxed smile.
Forsythe raised one hand off the desk to point at the detective. “I think it was you who did this to him. You went back there yesterday to beat some information out of him. I know how you two-bit operators work.”
Jack frowned for a moment and stubbed his cigar on the plate. The ash sizzled in the cold egg remains. “I may play rough from time to time, but I’m not going to waste my time or ruin my reputation killing someone like that.”
“That may be, but I want you to come with us and answer some more questions,” The Under-Secretary said grimly. “I know you are hiding something from me, and I don’t want someone like you fooling around in government business anymore. Someone has to pay!” Forsythe stood back up and motioned to his two men. The two henchmen reached for their holstered guns, clearly ready to bring this arrogant detective in for questioning.
Without changing his expression, Jack said, “Hold it right there, Forsythe.” A small click could be heard from behind the desk. The Secretary stopped in his tracks. “This old Starr pistol will shoot right through this desk if need be, so make sure your men don’t come any closer.”
Ezra then stepped through the door from the living quarters and leveled a shotgun at the two henchmen. “I’ve got these two covered, Jack,” he growled.
“Have you ever seen a man ripped in two with a close range shotgun blast?” Jack asked. “It’s not a pleasant sight and it makes such a mess.” His voice was low and calm.
The men behind Forsythe dropped their hands to their side and stared at Ezra in disbelief. Forsythe was purple with rage, barely able to control his breathing.
Jack pulled the Starr up and put it on top of the desk. "Even in these troublesome days, you still need something to charge me with if you want me to come with you. If you don’t have the power to arrest me, then I suggest you leave before I shoot you for trespassing.”
“You wouldn’t dare! My department can do whatever it pleases,” Forsythe replied angrily. “I report to the Secretary of War and Mister Cameron wants these plans found!”
“You may work for the government, but you are not an even an officer of the law. I’m not going with you unless you have someone from the City Watch arrest me. The War Department is obviously putting some pressure on you to find those plans. You want to get me in just to buy some more time. I’m not going to be your scapegoat, because I still have a job to do for the Hanson family.”
Forsythe took a moment to compose himself before speaking. “I also have a job to do, Mister Blackwood.”
Jack shrugged his shoulders. “Then it’s best that we both try to find Lawrence. Now I do believe you are trespassing, so if you could kindly remove yourself, I’m sure we would all be a little happier.”
Forsythe gestured to dismiss his men, who reluctantly turned and left the room. Their footsteps could be heard trudging slowly down the stairs. He paused and listened to their retreating steps. “Be very careful, Mister Blackwood,” he said, his voice a quiet hiss of a whisper. “I’m not a man to play games with – when we really want you, you will be coming with us. You won’t always have your house boy here to protect you.”
Ezra’s finger tightened on the trigger.
Jack shook his head. “My partner is a better man than you will ever be. Now I suggest again that you leave before he shoots you. If I was him, I would have killed you by now.”
Forsythe’s face flushed a deeper shade red. He turned to leave in haste. His footsteps could be heard stampeding down the stairs, and then the front door was slammed shut.
Jack reached into the desk and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. He filled up two glasses and handed one to his partner. His hands were steady as he passed Ezra the glass. He laughed. “They couldn’t have wanted us that badly, or we would have ended up in a shooting match.”
Ezra put the shotgun down and leaned it carefully against the closest corner of the room. “That was near enough for me,” he said with a sigh of relief.
“Thanks for backing me up there. I would have hated to have shot through this old desk of mine. Now let’s relax and have a drink.” He drained the glass with one gulp.
> “No problem,” Ezra said. “After that, I would be a fool to turn down a drink, even this early in the day.” He took a small sip of his whiskey. “Those papers must be even more important than they have been letting on. Forsythe is acting unpredictable, so we better be careful and make sure they can’t get anything on us.”
“Right now, we know a lot more than they do. So let’s keep our cards close and make sure the government doesn’t louse this all up. We have to find out what Abbott and Stevenson are up to. This book of Tinen’s definitely ties them together. If anyone knows where Lawrence is hiding, it will have to be Stevenson. And where there is Stevenson, Abbott is there giving the orders.”
“I’ll see if I can dig up any more information on Abbott,” Ezra said. “There is bound to be a lot considering all of things he has done. Someone out there has to know something we can use.” He then picked up the shotgun and left Jack alone to his thoughts.
Those thoughts were interrupted by the sound of more footsteps on the stair. Jack picked up the Starr again to have handy in case it was Forsythe again.
A knock sounded at the door, and a polite voice said, “Mister Blackwood?”
“Come in,” he said tersely, his hand hovering over his pistol.
A uniformed messenger opened the door. “I have a message for you,” he said, approaching the desk. He handed it over, waiting for his tip.
“Thank you.” Jack reached into his pocket for some change and handed over a dime. He then followed the messenger to the door and locked it after him. The message was from Faith Hanson.
Please come see me as soon as possible. I have just received some dreadful news about Lawrence.
Jack walked behind the desk and scribbled a quick note for Ezra. He then locked Tinen’s book in the safe, reached for his jacket on the coat rack and left.