be outnumbered twenty to one if they attempt to seize him.”
“Cromwell has that kind of influence?” asked Curtis.
“The degree of corruption in San Francisco makes the Tammany Hall political machine of New York City look like a convent,” said Bronson. “Cromwell has done more than his share to keep city officials fat and rich.”
Bell smiled a hard, canny smile. “We’ll have our own army,” he said quietly. “Colonel Danzler will call out the army regiment that’s stationed at the Presidio, if I request it.”
“We may need them sooner than you think,” said Bronson. “If Cromwell cleans out the cash in his bank and charters another train, he’ll be over the border into Mexico free as a bird before we can lift a finger.”
“He’s right,” agreed Curtis. “As it stands, we’re helpless. We can’t touch him. By the time Danzler can contact the Presidio’s commander and order troops called out and marched into the city, it will be too late. Cromwell’s graft will have greased his way out of town.”
Bell leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. “Not necessarily,” he said slowly.
“What’s going through that devious mind?” asked Curtis.
“Suppose the president of the United States requests the president of the Southern Pacific Railroad not to charter a train to Cromwell?”
Bronson looked at him. “Is that possible?”
Bell nodded. “Colonel Danzler has great influence in Washington. I was told by Van Dorn that he and President Roosevelt are very close. They fought side by side at San Juan Hill in the war. I think it’s safe to say he could persuade the president to go along.”
“And if Cromwell charters a ship?” probed Bronson.
“Then a United States warship will be sent to stop the ship at sea, take Cromwell off, and return him to San Francisco. By that time, we’ll have the necessary warrants for his arrest and trial.”
“It sounds like you have all the bases covered,” Bronson said admiringly.
“Cromwell is a slippery customer,” said Bell. “If there is a way to slip through our net, he’ll think of it.” He paused to look up at a clock on the wall. “Four thirty-five. I have a dinner date at six o’clock.”
“Marion Morgan?” Curtis asked with a sly smile. “It strikes me that besides her keeping tabs on Cromwell, you two have a thing going.”
Bell nodded. “She’s an exquisite lady.” He rose to his feet and slipped on his coat. “She’s fixing dinner at her place.”
Bronson winked at Curtis. “Our friend is a lucky man.”
“I’ve lost track of time,” said Bell. “What day is it?”
“Tuesday, April seventeenth,” answered Curtis. Then he added humorously, “The year is 1906.”
“I’m aware of the year,” Bell said as he stepped through the door. “See you all in the morning.”
Sadly, one of the three men in the room would never see tomorrow.
MARGARET STOPPED the Mercedes under the porte cochere that sheltered vehicles at the front door of the mansion before they passed into the courtyard beyond. Since picking her brother up in front of city hall, she had driven him to the bank, where he had spent two hours locked in his office. When he emerged, they rode to Nob Hill in silence. Their chauffeur came from the carriage house and drove the car inside. The instant they stepped into the foyer, Margaret pulled off her hat and spun it across the floor, glaring at her brother with fire in her eye.
“I hope you’re satisfied now that you’ve sent our fortunes crashing down around us.”
Cromwell walked like an old man into the sitting room and slumped wearily in a chair. “I made the mistake of underestimating Bell,” he said. “He caught up to me before I could hit the bank in San Diego.”
The floor tilted beneath Margaret’s feet as her entire mood changed. “Isaac alive? You saw him?”
He looked at her intently. “You appear to take an uncommon interest in him,” he said with dry amusement. “Are you glad our nemesis still walks the earth?”
“You said you killed him in Telluride.”
Cromwell spoke as if he were describing a truckload of coal. “I thought I did, but he apparently survived. The only mistake I’ve made in twenty years.”
“Then it was he who brought you back from San Diego and put you into San Quentin.”
Cromwell nodded. “He had no right. He stepped outside the law. Now Bell is going to move heaven and earth to proclaim me the Butcher Bandit and send me to the gallows.”
“It won’t be an easy matter of escaping the city. Van Dorn agents are watching our every move.”
“I have no intention of fleeing like a thief in the night. It’s time those who have curried our favor and funds repay their obligations by keeping us out of Van Dorn’s hands until we’re ready to quietly depart for greener pastures.”
She looked at him resolutely, her mind on an unwavering course of action. “We’ll hire the finest lawyers in New York. It will be impossible to convict you. We’ll make Isaac Bell and the Van Dorn Detective Agency the laughingstock of the nation.”
“I don’t doubt we’ll win in court,” he said quietly, staring at his sister with a serious expression. “But we’ll be finished as an admired institution in San Francisco. The bank will suffer a financial disaster as our depositors, fearful of scandal, run to competing banks. The Cromwell National Bank will close its doors.” He paused for effect. “Unless…”
“Unless what?” she asked, meeting his unrelenting gaze.
