He sighed and looked about him impatiently. “Very well, if you insist on leaving with me. Perhaps it would look better. I must find the major and explain before the dancing begins again.”
She indicated, “I see him standing over there by the archway leading to the hall.”
“Then let us go quickly and make our excuses for leaving,” Booth said.
They did. And she was interested to hear John Wilkes Booth lie to his host, pretending they were being called away by news of the indisposition of a young lady member of the company. John was convincing in his explanation that the young lady’s illness created a major problem for the company in their move to New York. It all seemed quite valid and the affable Major saw them to their carriage and invited them to be his guests whenever they might return to Washington once again.
The carriage started off in the darkness and John relaxed in the seat beside her, his hands clasped on the head of his walking stick. He warned her, “We are going to a run-down section of the city!’
“How could you lie as you did to the poor Major?” she wanted to know.
Booth laughed softly. “I could see that was bothering you.”
“No one is ill in the company! I’m certain of that.”
He placed an arm around her. “There are times, my dear Fanny, when one in my position must lie and lie well.”
Reproach cloaked her lovely face. “We are on the way to our first successful New York season and you’re ready to risk it all with your spying for the Southerner!”
“I must do what I have to do,” he said shortly. “I have been asked to meet someone. Threatened with exposure if I did not. Would you want that?”
“It will come to that one day in any event,” she said bitterly. “I’m certain you will destroy yourself and your career.”
He smiled at her. “Are you afraid of my dragging you down with me, Fanny?”
“I think you should maintain a calm head in all this!”
“Impossible,” he said, glancing out the carriage window into the murky midnight. “We are close to where I must meet this fellow. I will have the carriage wait a distance away. You stay in it.”
“Why?”
“Because this could be terribly dangerous,” was his warning.
“Who are you meeting?”
“I cannot tell you!”
Fanny said plaintively, “At least let me help in some way!”
“The best thing you can do is remain in the carriage,” he told her.
They reached an intersection of narrow streets and he bade the driver to stop and keep the carriage waiting for him. He gave her a kiss and then quickly stepped down onto the dirty cobblestones and made his way along one of the streets. She saw him vanish in the darkness.
She then made her second decision. She also stepped down from the carriage and followed after John Wilkes Booth. She hurried down the street in which he had vanished and found that it ended in a sort of side alley. From the side alley she heard angry voices. One of them being John’s! She cautiously pushed on so she could glance into the alley.
There in the near darkness she saw a strange confrontation. John in his cape and tophat facing the hunchback she had come to know so well. As she watched, the hunchback drew out a revolver and raised it but John was too quick for him. As the hunchback raised the revolver John brought his walking stick down on his wrist and the revolver fell clattering to the cobblestones!
The hunchback screamed with dismay and tried to retrieve the weapon. As he did so John unsheathed the dagger in his walking stick and plunged its full length into the chest of the hunchback. His ugly face raised up to be highlighted by a sudden shaft of pale moonlight, then the moonbeams went under a cloud again. The hunchback fell back without uttering a sound. Booth leaned over him a moment, wiped off the blade on his clothing, then replaced it in his walking stick. After that he turned and hurried back out of the alley.
He halted when he saw her waiting for him where the alley joined the street and his handsome features were distorted by anger. “You little fool!” he hissed. “How dare you follow me as you have?”
She was still in shock from what she’d witnessed. She stared at him and managed, “You killed him!”
“Quiet!” he said in a low voice and seized her by the arm. “We must get away from here at once!”
She let him drag her along with him and at the same time questioned him in a near whisper, “Why? The hunchback was one of your own!”
“There was a reason!” Booth insisted. “Don’t ask me senseless questions. You must have seen that he meant to kill me!”
“Why?”
“Later,” the actor said sharply. And as they reached the carriage he shoved her inside at once and after telling the driver to take them to their hotel, he got inside with her.
She was trembling now. “What was it all about?” she asked in fear.
He looked grimly ahead as the carriage rode on. “Fortunes of war! Ask me no more!”
Nor would he tell her anything else. She attempted to learn more about the macabre events after they reached their rooms in the hotel but he coldly turned his back on her. At last she gave up. It became more clear to her than ever that she could never be sure of him. He simply could not be trusted. One day he would be the charming, ambitious actor and the next she’d find herself faced with the mad-eyed political fanatic! She intended to confide this in Barnum when they reached New York. She felt she owed this to her employer.
She spent an almost totally sleepless night. The murder remained vividly in her mind, for she could only think of it as murder. It was true the hunchback had produced a gun and seemed about to kill Booth, but what had followed had been a violent killing. Why could not have Booth been satisfied to wrest the gun from the hunchback and send him on his way? There seemed to be only one answer. Apparently Booth had felt he needed to silence the ugly, little man who had been his confederate.
There was also the important question of why this confederate had chosen to turn on Booth? She tossed in bed tormented by this question and many others, wondering if Booth would be linked somehow with the murder. Suppose others knew of the feud between the actor and the hunchback? Or suppose the cabby became suspicious and linked them with the murder? She might also be drawn into it. That was clearly why John Wilkes Booth had not wanted her to accompany him. He had tried to protect her. And she still did not doubt that this tormented man loved her, but his mad obsession about the war ruled him above all else.
The next morning he was all contrition and anxious to win her forgiveness. He brought her tea and toast on a tray for her to enjoy before rising. This was something he had never done before.
With one of his winning smiles, he said, “I thought it might clear your head before you got up to prepare for our train journey to New York this morning.”
“You are too thoughtful this morning,” she said sitting up with the tray before her. Her eyes lifted to meet his. “Is it because of last night?”
His smile vanished. He touched his fingers nervously to the end of his mustache and said, “Last night is over with! Finished! I would prefer that you put it out of your mind!”
“I wish I could!”
His eyes were cold. “You must!”
“I see,” she said quietly, knowing that he was still unwilling to give her any further explanation. He seemed to relax again as he said, “So waste no time, my dear. The train will not wait for us. We have only about time to make it as it is.”
Knowing this to be true she attempted no further arguments with him. After having some of the tea she rose and washed and dressed. She was still worried that the authorities might in some way link them with the killing and they would be arrested before they could board the New York train. They finally arrived at the railway station and gathered with the company before boarding the train.
John Wilkes Booth worried her by leaving with the excuse he wished to purchase some cigars from the railway station tobacco shop. She found
herself standing with the elderly Leroy Barnes, the leading character actor with their company. The old man had a fine head of white hair which he wore long over his collar, and he invariably wore a broad brimmed black hat and stylishly cut coat with a fancy velvet collar.
He smiled at her as they stood together in the hurly-burly of the station. He said, “A most auspicious occasion for us, Miss Cornish.”
“Yes,” she said, managing a smile for the old man. “But then you are no stranger to the New York stage. It will be my first appearance.”
“You will be well received,” Barnes replied, a look of confidence on his weathered, deeply-lined features. “And I’m sure the public will acclaim Mr. Booth. He may wind up as famous as his brother, Edwin.”
“He hopes to surpass him.”
“I doubt that,” the old man said. “But I think he is a fine actor.”
It was then that Nancy came breathlessly to join them. The pretty blonde girl told Fanny, “I couldn’t let you go without seeing you off!”
Fanny took the other girl’s hand in hers. “I wish you were coming with us.”
“I know,” Nancy sighed. “But there is Tom and his play! He cannot hope to get it all down without my help. And I shall have work with the incoming company.”
Fanny said, “I shall miss you sorely. And do let us hear from you.”
“I shall write,” Nancy promised. “And when the play is done you shall be first to read it.”
“Wish Tom my best,” Fanny said.
“I will,” Nancy promised. “Poor fellow, it is not easy for him! And look at all these others!”
She nodded towards the many uniformed men who were moving about in the crowded station. Some were with wives and sweethearts others alone or in a group.
“If only this war would end!” Fanny prayed aloud.
Old Leroy Barnes nodded. “I think it may soon come to a climax. The South are steadily weakening and they say General Grant has more than a half-million troops ready for the attack!”
Nancy passed a newspaper to Fanny and said, “Here is the morning paper. I thought you might like to read it on the way to New York. There is a brief paragraph mentioning Major Furlong’s party last night in honor of you and Mr. Booth!”
“Really?” she said. “John will be interested to see it. He will miss the Washington parties.” She glanced anxiously in the crowds milling about them to see some sign of his returning. A cold fear hit her that perhaps he might not come back!
Nancy went on, “Terrible things are happening here all the time. There is a story about a man being murdered in a back alley last night. Stabbed to death!”
Fanny’s cold fright increased. She said tautly, “Indeed?”
“Yes,” the blonde girl nodded, unaware of the impact of her words. “It seems the victim was a hunchback!”
Fanny echoed, “A hunchback?”
“Yes,” Nancy said soberly. “And a rather important Person, according to the newspaper story. It said that he was a famous secret service figure and it was felt he had died in line of duty.”
Leroy Barnes nodded eagerly. “It is well known the Feds have their own spies liberally sprinkled about Washington.”
“I suppose they must,” Fanny said in a small voice, hoping they would not notice her upset state.
Nancy seemed unaware of any change in her and went on to answer the old character actor, saying, “The newspaper story goes into that. It said that he had been about to reveal a spy ring dedicated to moving drugs illegally across the lines.”
Fanny barely heard the words, yet they made an impact on her. And at that moment her worst fear was relieved by the return of John Wilkes Booth. He was as dashing as ever as he kissed Nancy goodbye and made some jolly comments to her and the old character actor.
Then the trainman blew his whistle and called out for them to board and there were frantic moments of last goodbyes. Then she found herself seated on the train with John at her side. He removed his hat and cloak and smiled at her.
“Time to relax,” he said.
She glanced at him. “You think so?”
“Yes,” he said, as the train started abruptly and then ran smoothly along the platform leaving a sea of faces and waving hands behind them. He glanced at the newspaper in her lap. “You have a paper.”
“Yes,” she said, aware that the noise of the train now served to cover their conversation from their neighbors.
“Any mention of the Furlong affair?” the handsome actor asked casually.
“Yes,” she said. “But more space was given to the murder of a hunchback.”
John Wilkes Booth showed no emotion. “Is that so?”
“Yes,” she went on grimly. “It appears he was a well known member of the Secret Service.”
“Too bad!”
“Yes,” she said. “He was a member of the
Union Secret Service not the Confederate. I had it all wrong from the start!”
He gave her a mocking look. “What difference does it make?”
“He was about to reveal the head of a spy ring sending medical supplies to the South. The paper believes that is why he was killed.”
Booth shrugged. “Well, the war does continue! “
She looked at him accusingly. “He meant to take you prisoner or kill you. After following you all that time he had the information he needed.”
The handsome actor nodded. “Yes. That is why he asked me to keep a rendezvous with him last night.”
“You knew one of you had to die?”
“Yes.”
“I suppose you think I should commend you for your display of courage,” she said with bitterness.
He said calmly, “You didn’t feel so strongly as long as you thought the hunchback one of my own turned on me. It makes a difference when you discover he was always the enemy!”
“I take no sides,” she replied.
“Very well,” he said. “Be content that the Southern wounded will continue to get their needed supplies.”
Chapter 8
New York welcomed the new company starring Fanny Cornish and John Wilkes Booth at Brougham’s Lyceum Theatre during the closing months of 1864. The city was prospering as never before, the war had created a whole new group of wealthy people along with its terrible devastation for the rank and file. The draft riots were almost forgotten with the victorious General Grant leading the Union Army.
For the first weeks of the engagement John Wilkes Booth was a model of good behavior. She and he shared adjoining suites in a hotel near the theatre. He was the perfect lover both onstage and off. The critics gave both the youngest of the Booths and Fanny rave notices. It seemed that Phineas T. Barnum had a gold mine in them!
But Fanny almost knew that this happy state of affairs could not go on for long. She could feel the increasing tension in her co-star and constantly worried about what he might do. Each time there was fresh news of the South’s defeat he ranted and raved in a way which frightened her. Yet he preserved a calm face for the public.
There were fewer parties for them in New York. But one of the new society leaders held a ball and she and John were invited. It was there she first set eyes on Bessie Hale, the lovely, brown-eyed daughter of Senator John Parker Hale, a member of Lincoln’s cabinet. The attractive girl was literally swept off her feet by the overwhelming John Wilkes! He neglected Fanny to dance with the senator’s daughter most of the evening.
On the way home in their carriage she chided‘him about it, saying, “The girl is young and attractive but she is a beauty without brains! Everyone says so! What can you see in her?”
John laughed and touched his hand on hers. “You need not be jealous, dear Fanny. I was merely trying to be a good guest. Surely you saw that our hostess threw us together.”
She gave him a sharp glance. “I think you deliberately set out to woo her. And it is not the girl, but the information you hope to get from her and her father that interests you. It is more of your spying.”
&n
bsp; He shrugged. “Since you realize that why let it bother you?”
“I do not like to see people so used,” she said. “Nor do I enjoy watching you betray those offering us friendship.”
“Think no more about it,” he told her and leaned close to kiss her on the cheek.
But she had reason to think a good deal more of it. He began to be absent without explanation on various occasions and bits of gossip began to wend their way back to her both from mutual friends and items in the press. It became a poorly kept secret that John Wilkes Booth was often a guest at the New York home of Senator Hale. Fanny tried to ignore the whole matter.
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