The Whiskey Rebels (64 page)

Read The Whiskey Rebels Online

Authors: David Liss

From across the room I observed a new face enter into the lobby of Corre’s. It was Pearson, looking overwhelmed and a little bit like a child who has lost his minder in a crowded market. Did he know I’d already escaped his prison? I doubted it. And there he was, a man I hated above all others, the man who had murdered my greatest friend, ruined my life, married the woman I loved, and made her life into an unendurable torment. Here he was, having freshly imprisoned me, come to invest the last of his money, but upon scanning the room, it was clear he was dismayed by what he saw. All was madness and chaos, with no sign of Duer’s agents or Duer himself. Pearson and I were separated by perhaps fifty feet and perhaps a thousand men, but for an instant, across the press of bodies and the cries of impatience, our eyes locked.

I cannot claim to understand what crossed his face—perhaps something like surprise and horror. He must have understood several things at once: that I had escaped his inescapable dungeon, that I was far more dangerous an enemy than he had reckoned, and that things would be different from now on. He also must have understood that money invested in the Million Bank was money lost. He understood that trusting Duer had been a colossal error. And he understood something else: that knowing what I did about who he was and what he had done—to me, to Fleet, to his own wife—I had still given him good advice. He stared at me now, nothing but derision and contempt upon his face for the man who had saved him, and then he left.

I wanted to follow him. I knew not when I would get a better chance, but it seemed to me the wrong choice. I needed to wait and see how the launch proceeded, make certain Duer did not find some way to turn everything to his advantage. I had outwitted him, yes, but until all was over, I could not be certain he had no tricks to extricate himself.

Not long after, I observed Duer himself. Actually, it was the remarkably tall Whippo I saw first; Duer was more easily lost in the throng. I had not seen their arrival, but they now moved through the crowds, who did not welcome them with enthusiasm, as they cried out the names of their associates—calls that went unanswered. Duer stared in dismay at the long lines to approach the cashiers, but having no other choice he queued up in one, Whippo in another.

They had not been standing fifteen minutes, however, and were seemingly no closer to the cashier’s table, when the announcement went out that the bank was fully subscribed. Those who had waited without success were thanked for their interest and asked to vacate the premises. Some men walked off in triumph, others in despair; a sizable number, who had come after reading reports in the newspapers and thinking this something they should not miss out on, wandered off in resignation. Duer and his man did not leave at all, but remained like dazed horses amid the battlefield carnage.

I stood near the door, leaning against the wall, watching events unfold. Duer’s mouth tightened into a little bloodless line. For a moment I thought he might weep like a child.

During these confusions, Mr. Isser, the first agent I’d detained and a man apparently well versed in the art of untying knots, came rushing into the hotel. He found Duer at once and began explaining something to him. I imagine he gave a somewhat jumbled version of events—an improbable tale of assault and detainment, of mistaken identity and capture and escape. They talked for only a moment, and then Whippo began to look about the room. I don’t know what he looked for, but it was not long before his eyes found mine and locked on with an intense but unreadable expression. His lips trembled as though he stifled a laugh. Something passed between us that I did not understand. He looked as though he understood what I had done and approved of it.

It was gone in an instant. He turned away, and I was left to ponder the strange and wonderful events. Duer had been thwarted, and the threat against the Bank of the United States averted. Having saved Cynthia Pearson, and perhaps the republic, I was content to depart.

 

Ethan Saunders

I
considered it a successful day and returned to Fraunces Tavern, where I found Lavien in the taproom sipping a cup of tea and writing a letter on a piece of foolscap. His hand was slow and deliberate, his letters neat and precise. He almost did not need to blot.

He set down the quill and looked at me. “I asked you not to interfere with the Million Bank launch.”

I sat at his table. “I recollect something about that.” I called for a bottle of wine. “
Don’t obstruct government business,
” I said to Lavien. “Something on that order, yes?”

“You disobeyed the orders of the Treasury Department.”

“Well, yes,” I said, “but I don’t work for the Treasury Department. Your suggestions are taken into account but do not direct my actions, any more than mine direct yours. I have no obligation to anyone or anything except honor, love, and vengeance, and I have attempted to fulfill those three as best I can.”

My wine arrived, along with two glasses. I set one out for him and expected him to push it away. Instead, he poured for both of us.

“I suppose that’s so,” he said. “I don’t know what chaos you’ve brought down on us, but it was nicely done.” He raised his glass to me.

“Why, thank you very much.”

“I believe you’ve now learned where Pearson was during the time of his absence, and your actions today suggest you know what he was up to.”

“He was here in New York,” I said. “You knew that as well. As to what, he was engaged in business for Duer that had to be kept secret because of his horrible debts in Philadelphia. He was shorting six percents and driving up the price of four percents so Duer’s other agents, his real agents, could buy cheap, and he was making arrangements to invest in the Million Bank. The money invested in the six percents is gone, but I spared Cynthia the final ruin of Pearson’s sinking his remaining funds into the Million Bank.”

“There can be no doubt you saved her from ruin. Even if the Million Bank succeeds, its shares are already devalued. It oversubscribed today, in no small part thanks to your rumormongering. It oversubscribed by a factor of ten, so shares have been diminished by a factor of ten. The Million Bank will have to do well or else every investor will be a loser.”

“Then perhaps Duer will thank me too.”

“He will not. He did not need the shares he owned to possess their value but to control the Million Bank itself. He cared nothing for trading those shares and turning a profit on them, he wanted the wealth of the Million Bank as a whole. If anything, the devaluing would have aided him in buying up shares from disappointed investors, but to do that he would have already had to possess a significant portion, which, thanks to you, he doesn’t.” Lavien sipped his wine. “It must be difficult for you, though. You said your obligations were to honor, love, and vengeance. You have certainly fulfilled two of those today. You have demonstrated your honor and your love for Mrs. Pearson in defending what is left of her fortune, but what of vengeance? To protect her, you must save him.”

I could not tell if he was chastising me, teasing me, or encouraging me to act. “Pearson’s time will come, I have no doubt.”

Lavien grinned, and I felt a coldness wash over me. “Nor do I.” After a moment he said, “Leonidas came to see me. He wished to take his leave.”

I took a drink. “It was a bit of a debacle—not so well handled as I might have liked.”

Lavien’s face softened, and for a moment he seemed to be just a man, full of kindness and concern. “I’m sorry you’ve lost him. I understand his anger, but I think it is out of proportion to your crime. You did him wrong in not telling him sooner that you had behaved justly, but you did behave justly. He ought to have seen that. In the end, he will.”

“Thank you. Kind of you to say.”

He looked at my glass of wine and smiled. “In balance, I’d say the reform is going well. I must be sure to tell my wife what a wonderful effect she’s had upon you.”

To that there could be no response.

“Well, I suppose we should make arrangements to return to Philadelphia,” he continued. “Our work here is done. We’ll ride back together, leaving early this morning by express, your expenses paid for by Treasury. In the meantime, we have work to do.”

Had he then risen, I believe I would have risen with him—or at least begun to do so before I recollected myself. Yet, he did not command me, and he never had. I was not so tired from lack of sleep, not so addled with wine, that I failed to recollect that I was my own man. “I know we are not precisely opposed, but I do not work for you or for Treasury. I have my own business to attend, and that begins with Pearson.”

“If you’d like,” he said, “I can slit his throat before we leave.”

His words were so calm and easy, I believe he would have done it had I given him the word. And how easy it would have been. Perhaps that was why I reacted so strongly. I did not want him to offer again. “I am not going to murder him.”

He leaned forward. “Then what are you going to do, jeer at him? Point and laugh? There are things in motion, and you are not on the margins, Saunders. This is no longer a case of hoping to find out what some minor British functionary is up to, so that six months into the future some tiny bit of intelligence you’ve gathered can be placed together with a hundred other tiny bits in order to reach a conclusion that can be acted upon six months later.”

“Do you dare to insult the work I did?”

“Never,” he answered. “But it was a long war, and events unfolded on a large scale. Now we have not the luxury of time. You are in the thick of it, whether you like it or not, and waiting to see who Pearson contacts in two weeks is not an option. He must be dealt with now.”

“Why is it your concern? Duer is struck down by my hand. The threat against the bank is finished.”

He shook his head. “We don’t know what the real threat was, but I can assure you it was not Duer’s effort to take over the Million Bank. At best, that was but a portion. The threat is still real, and we cannot lose a day in our pursuit of it.”

“I do not work for you,” I said, “and I do not work for Hamilton.”

“Yes, you do,” he said. “Hamilton does not know it yet, but you do, and when all this is over, he will see what you’ve done and you will have what you’ve wanted—not only reform but redemption. When I first met you, I thought you were nothing but a useless drunk.”

It ought not to have stung. I presented myself as nothing more, and yet I did not want to hear it. “And now?”

“And now,” he said, “I find you are a useful drunk.”

I pushed the bottle away, but not the glass. Then I looked him full in the face. “I want to help you. The devil take me, I want to help Hamilton, though I never thought I would utter such words, but first I must help Cynthia. That is my obligation and my desire. It is the air in my lungs, and I cannot breathe if I turn from it. You must see that.”

“I do see it, but I see what you don’t. You can rid Cynthia of her husband in a single stroke, and only we shall know of it, yet you won’t do it. I understand why, but if you won’t do it in a single stroke, we must do it strategically. Pearson has bound himself and his fortune to larger schemes, and if you want to be rid of him, we must deal with Duer and the threat to the bank. We must discover the plot and bring down the plotters, and somewhere, amid all that chaos, I believe Pearson will be dealt with. You believe it too, I think, and I know you long to be part of this, to bring down Duer with me. You simply cannot endure the torment of taking your eye off Pearson. I promise you, you may turn away from him, and he will not trouble you. He is done in Philadelphia. He is in exile. He can’t hurt her now, and, if we do this right, he will not hurt her again.”

I could see the reason in what he said, and I did not mind that he’d thrown in a few very kind words about me. This was Kyler Lavien, perhaps the most powerful man—if only secretly so—in the employ of the most powerful man in Washington’s administration, and he begged me for my help. I would have hated to turn him away, but perhaps I did not have to. Perhaps he was right. I had no notion of what to do about Pearson. I would go, instead, with Lavien and see what came of his methods.

“What do we do?”

He grinned that evil grin again. “We’ve only a few hours before we take the express back to Philadelphia, so in the meantime we see Duer. We find out what he means to do next, and then we report to Hamilton. In keeping Pearson from utterly undoing himself, you may have completed your New York business as a private citizen. Now you are upon Treasury business.”

 

A
t near seven, Duer received us in the parlor of his Greenwich mansion. He seemed as unflappable as ever, cool and friendly, a man at ease in the comforts of his own home, and he was alone: no Isaac Whippo in sight and no Reynolds. He showed us a painting he’d purchased and pointed out his window to a new pair of hunting dogs. Not a care in the world, and certainly not a thought for that pesky business with the Million Bank.

At last we sat but, unlike our last visit, no offer of refreshment was made.

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