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“Weber and Fields are in Pittsburgh with Archie. Mack discovered a county sheriff is making secret arrangements to extradite union leaders back to West Virginia for the murder of Black Jack Gleason.”
Van Dorn gave an admiring whistle. “Mack must have burrowed mighty deep into the sheriff’s office to find that.”
“Wally claims that the sheriff’s girlfriend took a shine to Mack.”
“I’d have thought Mack’s seducing days were over.”
“And Wally’s collected rumors of a radical attack on the railroads.”
“What sort?”
“Trestle bombings, Wally thinks.”
Van Dorn shook his head. “Lunatics.”
“Plenty of lunacy to go around. Pittsburgh is bracing for the marchers. Half the Monongahela Valley is joining up along the route. So the Pinkertons and the Coal and Iron Police are offering a bounty for city prisoners released early to fight the strikers.”
“Good God! How’d your squad find that out?”
“Archie infiltrated the Coal and Iron Police.”
“He’s only an apprentice.”
“Archie convinced them he’s on the lam from Idaho for beating a miner to death with his fists. They welcomed him like a brother.”
“That is very dangerous for an apprentice to be alone inside. Too dangerous. What if they tumble to him? He doesn’t have the experience to see it coming, and with no one to back him up, God knows what will happen.”
“Anyone who challenges Archie Abbott’s boxing skills will quickly cease to doubt his story.”
“I’ll shake Archie’s hand, but I want you to take him off that job.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve already shifted Archie from the Coal and Iron Police to shadow someone slightly less dangerous.”
“Who?”
“You want to know what Mary Higgins is up to. Well, so do I.”
“Any hint?”
“She’s back in Pittsburgh. And she still refuses Van Dorn protection. That’s why I put Archie on her.”
Van Dorn gave a faint smile. “You must trust your friend immensely to let him shadow a girl you’re sweet on — don’t bother denying that.”
Bell grinned back. “I’m hoping that Archie recalls the only boxing match he lost.”
“Back to business. What’s your next step?”
The mirth left the young detective’s face. He looked the Boss in the eye. “I am about to identify the provocateur.”
“You are?”
“With your help.”
“Me? How?”
“Start by looking at this.”
Bell’s hand flicked to his boot. He laid his throwing knife on Van Dorn’s desk.
