“He lives on his detective salary,” said Bell. “His family lost everything in the Panic of ‘93. His mother stays with her brother-in-law’s family. Before that, they were reasonably well-off, as the old New York families were in those days, with a good house in the right neighborhood.”
Hennessy looked at Bell, sharply. “Could he be a gold digger?”
“Twice he walked away from wealthy young ladies whose mothers would be thrilled to marry them into as illustrious a family as the Abbotts. One was the only child of a man who owned a steamship line, another the daughter of a textile magnate. He could have had either for the asking. In both cases, their fathers made it clear they would take him into the business or, if he preferred not to work, simply put him on an allowance.”
The old man stared hard at him. Bell held his eye easily.
Hennessy finally said, “I appreciate your candor, Bell. I won’t be around forever, and I’m pretty much the only family she has. I want to see her set before anything happens to me.”
Bell stood up. “Lillian could do a lot worse than Archie Abbott.”
“She could also do worse than First Lady of the United States of America.”
“She is a very capable young woman,” Bell said neutrally. “She’ll deal with any hand dealt her.”
“I don’t want her to have to.”
“Of course you don’t. What father would? Now, let me ask
“Shoot.”
Bell sat back down. As much as he wanted to join Marion, there was a question troubling him that had to be answered.
“Do you really believe that Senator Kincaid has a chance for the nomination?”
CHARLES KINCAID AND EMMA COMDEN had walked in silence past the special’s insistently sighing steam engine, past the train yards and into the night, beyond the glare of the electric lights. Where the ballast laid for new rail ended, they stepped down to the newly cleared forest floor that had been brushed out for the right-of-way.
The stars were vivid in the thin mountain air. The Milky Way flooded the dark like a white river. Mrs. Comden spoke German. Her voice was muffled by the fur of her collar.
“Be careful you don’t twist the devil’s tail too hard.”
Kincaid responded in English. His German, honed by ten years studying engineering in Germany and working for the German companies building the Baghdad Railway, was as good as hers, but the last thing he needed was someone to report he had been overheard conversing in a foreign tongue with Osgood Hennessy’s mistress.
“We will beat them,” he said, “long before they figure out who we are or what we want.”
“But every way you turn, Isaac Bell thwarts you.”
“Bell has no idea of what I have planned next,” Kincaid said scornfully. “I am so close, Emma. My bankers in Berlin are poised to strike the instant that I bankrupt the Southern Pacific Company. My secret holding companies will buy it for pennies, and I will seize controlling interests in every railroad in America. Thanks to Osgood Hennessy’s ‘empirizing.’ No one can stop me.”
“Isaac Bell is no fool. Neither is Osgood.”
“Worthy opponents,” Kincaid agreed, “but always several steps behind.” And, in the case of Bell, he thought but did not say, unlikely to survive the night if Philip Dow was his usual deadly self.
“I must warn you that Franklin Mowery is growing suspicious about his bridge.”
“Too late to do anything about it.”
“It seems to me that you are growing reckless. So reckless that they will catch you.”
Kincaid gazed up at the stars, and murmured, “They can’t. I have my secret weapons.”
“What secret weapons are those?”
“You for one, Emma. You to tell me everything they’re up to.”
“And what do I have?” she asked.
“Anything money can buy when we have won.”
“What if I want something-or
Kincaid laughed again. “I’ll be in great demand. You’ll have to get in line.”
“In line . . . ?” Emma Comden raised her sensual face to the starlight. Her eyes shone darkly. “What is your other secret weapon?”
“That’s a secret,” said Kincaid.
In the unlikely event Bell somehow survived the attack and got lucky enough to thwart him again, he could not risk telling even her about “Lake Lillian.”
“You would keep secrets from me?” she asked.
“Don’t sound hurt. You know that you are the only one I have ever given the power to betray me.”
He saw no profit in mentioning Philip Dow. Just as he would never tell Dow about his affair with Emma, which had started years before she became the railroad president’s mistress.
A bitter smile parted her lips. “I have never known a worse man than you, Charles. But I would never betray you.”
Kincaid looked around again to make sure absolutely sure no one could see them. Then he snaked an arm inside her coat and drew her close. He was not at all surprised when she didn’t resist. Nor was he surprised that she had removed every stitch of her clothing before she put her fur on.
“And what have we here?” he asked, his voice thickening with desire.
“The front of the line,” said Mrs. Comden.
38
“WHEN IT COMES TO POLITICS,” OSGOOD HENNESSY SNORTED IN answer to Isaac Bell’s question, “I’ll believe anything that happens.”
Isaac Bell said, “I’m serious, sir. Do you believe that Kincaid is making an earnest run for the office of president?”
“Politicians can delude themselves into anything that suits their fancy. Could he get elected? I suppose. Voters do the damnedest things. Thank God, women don’t vote. He’d get elected on his pretty-boy looks alone.”
“But could he get nominated?” Bell pressed.
“That’s the real issue.”
“He’s got Preston Whiteway behind him. Whiteway must think there’s a chance.”
“That rabble-rouser will stop at nothing to sell newspapers. Don’t forget, win or lose, Kincaid for President still makes for a story right up to the last night of the convention.”
Bell named several of the California businessmen in Whiteway’s group. “Do they really believe they could bull Kincaid past the party regulars?”
Osgood Hennessy chuckled cynically. “Successful businessmen believe they succeed because they’re intelligent. Fact is, most businessmen are birdbrains except for that one small thing each was clever at in order to make money. But I don’t understand why they wouldn’t be perfectly happy with William Howard Taft. Surely they know that if they split the party, they would hand the election to the Democrats and William Jennings Bryan, that populist fiend. Hell, maybe they’re just soaking up a free holiday at Whiteway’s expense.”
“Maybe,” said Bell.
“Why do you ask?” said Hennessy, probing him with shrewd eyes.
Bell probed back. “It doesn’t feel right.”
“You wouldn’t by any chance be undermining your friend’s rival for my daughter’s hand?”
Bell stood up. “I’m not sly. Nor furtive. I’ll tell you here and now, to your face, that your daughter deserves better than Charles Kincaid. Good night, sir.”
“Wait,” said Hennessy. “Wait . . . Wait… I apologize. That was uncalled for and obviously not true. You’re a straight shooter. I do apologize. Sit down. Keep an old man company for a moment. Emma will be back from her walk any minute.”
CHARLES KINCAID SAW EMMA COMDEN to the door of the double stateroom she shared with Osgood
