AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“It was easy,” she said, which meant it hadn’t been very interesting. “Sometimes the most obvious answer is the right one. Alastair Duggard’s wife destroyed the painting. ”
“Why?”
“Because her husband liked it. And because she found out about his mistress, who she didn’t like at all. ”
“Most obvious answer, indeed,” he said, tapping a scrap of ash into the tray. “Too bad we couldn’t get it back for him, but I suppose it’s his own fault it’s gone. He paid up?”
“He paid up. I was recording the last of the invoices when—”
“In Kelly’s chair, I saw. ”
“I was cold. I am cold. It’s cold. ”
“You’re in Chicago, dear. ” He said it “Shi-kah-go” like the locals, despite his native (if fading) Glaswegian patter. “It’s cold here more often than not. You need warmer clothes, or thicker blood. Living down there in the jungles … it’ll make you soft. ”
She didn’t bother to correct him anymore when he talked about Virginia’s jungles. He’d never seen Virginia—or a jungle, for that matter—but she had better things to do than waste her breath convincing him of it. “I need to move around more, that’s all. And I believe you can help me with that—you said you’ve got a case for me?”
“I do indeed. And it’s a big one, too. ” He hesitated, leaving something unsaid.
“Sir?”
“I’m not going to lie to you, Maria: I can’t tell if you’re the best candidate for this one, or the worst possible choice. ”
“Another job working for the Union, I take it? I managed the last assignment to everyone’s satisfaction. ”
“That you did, but this one is … closer to the heart. ”
She was confused. “My heart? Your heart?”
“To President Lincoln’s heart. Literally and figuratively. ”
“You … you want me to work for Abraham Lincoln?”
“The situation is unusual—but not the same kind of unusual as usual. ”
“You’ve always had a way with words, sir. ”
He looked past her shoulder. “Do me a favor, dear—reach behind you and shut that door. ”
She did as he asked, and he continued, but in a quieter, more serious tone. “Mr. Lincoln and I have remained friends for many years, despite the incident at the Ford. Depending on who you ask, my son either saved his life or ruined it, and Mrs. Lincoln held the whole thing against us for a while. Abe’s recovery came so slowly, and so incompletely. … Still, the president has continued to accept our service in good faith. He presently employs one of our D. C. operatives—a young man named Nelson Wellers, who happens to be a physician. ”
“These days, I guess Mr. Lincoln needs a doctor more than a bodyguard. ” Maria cocked her head and frowned. “But this Dr. Wellers is no longer sufficient? I worked as a nurse, but quite briefly, I want you to know; I wasn’t cut out for it. If you’re only looking to send me because I’m a woman—”
“No, no, no. ” He dismissed her concerns with a wave of his cigar, leaving a trail of smoke to underline his impatience. “Wellers is fine. Nothing wrong with him. Mr. Lincoln doesn’t need a nursemaid or another security agent for himself. He wants to hire someone to investigate a crime against somebody else. ”
“Oh. ”
“Really, Maria. If I wanted to insult you, I’d do it more directly. ” He lifted one elbow and retrieved a file, then set his cigar in the glass tray’s groove. “So here are the brass tacks. The man in question is Gideon Armistead Bardsley, a doctor from Alabama. Not the kind of doctor who fixes you—this one’s an inventor. A scientist. ”
“Another negro,” she noted from the picture, a good daguerreotype that showed a long-waisted, broad-shouldered man in a suit that fit him well. He must be a little younger than she was, but she detected some lightness at his temples, the premature gray of someone who works too hard. “I’m sensing a theme. ”
“Twice isn’t a theme, it’s a coincidence. Will it be a problem?”
“Wasn’t a problem last time. Won’t be a problem this time. ”
“Good. ” He slid some paperwork across the desk. As Maria started to read, he pitched her the highlights. “Dr. Bardsley was a slave in Alabama until a dozen years ago, when he escaped. He got as far as Tennessee. ”
“No one sent him back?” The Bloodhound Laws were still on the books in the South, and anyone who’d returned the runaway would’ve been richly compensated.
