A Conspiracy to Murder, 1865

by T. L. B. Wood

  “Hamlet,” he remarked. “A dark tale if there ever was one. Of course, many tragic stories revolve around death and despair, do they not?”

  As he spoke, I realized the irony of his words. During his presidency, he had received numerous death threats and still did, on an alarmingly frequent basis. He spoke brave words in response, acting casual about the threats, but in his mind swirled the notion that he would not live long. On some level, he expected to die while still a relatively young man. As I reflected, it also seemed strange that as we spoke of Shakespeare, his were some of the plays in which John Wilkes Booth had acted. And his brother, Edwin, had acted in Hamlet, seen by Lincoln. The universe seemed small when I considered all the intersecting parts.

  Kipp was engaged in following the intricate patterns and laid down memories in Lincoln’s mind. I felt him shudder as he encountered the impressions stored when Lincoln’s two sons died. He’d been a remote, detached father with his eldest son but had become an involved father with his younger children. Kipp sighed deeply as he sort of got stuck, like in quicksand, in the depth of Lincoln’s melancholy that hung over him like a dark cloud.

  “Kipp, move on,” I said, my words stern in his mind.

  He sighed again and then, with great effort, moved past the depression which was almost like a roadblock. “I’ve not felt anyone with this much grief before,” Kipp remarked. “It is as if he has stored this from the time he was a child and lost his mother. Each subsequent loss just piles on the sadness in his heart. It’s one reason he indulges Tad as he does, as well as Mary. He worries about her, understanding she is not stable. But despite all her mood variability and erratic behaviors, he loves her and thinks it is his job to provide her with a calm, predictable relationship. He is utterly committed to her.” Kipp glanced at me. “Is commitment a choice, do you think?”

  I knew he was asking, thinking of his own relationship with me. “Kipp, move on,” I said again, my eyes meeting his amber ones, which reflected the sparks of red and orange from the fireplace.

  Peter, thankfully, took that opportunity to emerge, exhausted, from his session with Tad, who jumped with delight into his father’s lap. The boy tugged gently on his father’s beard, laughing as he did so.

  “You look like my billy goat,” he said, giggling.

  “And I’ve been called worse,” Lincoln responded with a smile, as he patted Tad’s leg.

  Peter dutifully gave a report, and it seemed, with the attractive lure of Elani, the boy had actually applied himself and had agreed to do homework! Peter, with no skills as a parent or a teacher, had managed to do something that had confounded other tutors who threw up their hands in surrender to the willful lad.

  “If this time-shifting gig doesn’t work out, you have a great future as a teacher,” I remarked privately to Peter, who narrowed his eyes in response.

  We said our goodbyes, leaving the two of them standing in the doorway, waving, as we departed, the horse’s hooves thudding against the hard-packed road. I asked both the lupines, with their superior radar, to search for potential spies who might be watching for Lincoln’s comings and goings. If they were present, they would most likely report our odd appearance, and the word could find its way back to Booth. If that happened, we’d have to deal with it in some creative way, although I hadn’t worked out that solution in my mind. Maybe we’d be lucky, for once.

  Twenty-One

  “I’ve found a carriage that has an enclosed back section,” Peter mentioned as we lingered over breakfast the next day. The rain had returned, casting a pall over Washington and forcing people to hover under porches, dashing from cover to cover, and we spent our free time engaged in chess, where I found I had more success when partnered with Elani. The fact was, with the game of chess, I needed all the help I could get, and both the lupines were quick studies, but where Kipp was overbearing, Elani was patient, and I didn’t grimace when making a bone-headed move.

  “Well, that’s good,” I replied. “The lupines can be concealed, and it will make any quick identification of us to Booth by others who may be watching the roads a little more difficult.”

  To also help confuse spies, we planned to vary our times we went to the Soldiers’ Home, and since it was such an erratic pattern, it would throw them off. Sometimes we might see Lincoln; other times, he would have a staff member bring Tad. And it was not daily in any case, so that worked to our advantage. A knock on the kitchen-level door interrupted my musings. It seemed I was rehearsing all events over and over in my mind, a sign of my disquiet over how things had occurred to date. I would have been much happier if we never had met John Wilkes Booth or Abraham Lincoln. But we had to deal with both events, now, and minimize disruptions to the natural flow of history.

  The visitor was Maureen, who hurried inside as a roll of thunder concluded with a flash of lightening that illuminated the gloom outside. After a quick bob of her head, she smiled at me, rather shyly I thought. We’d had a few contacts with her in our dealings with her mother. Both were fine, hardworking folks with good hearts and no ill will over their less than optimal situations in life.

  “May I get you something hot to drink?” I asked Maureen, whose eyes widened with surprise.

  “Oh, no ma’am,” she breathed, horrified. “Mrs. Surratt sent me over to invite you to an afternoon tea tomorrow.” Maureen rolled her eyes up, trying to recall the exact words she had recited. “She wants to return the kind invitation you extended to her and her daughter.” Maureen finished in a rush, rocking back on her heels as she relaxed her knees, pleased she had remembered the words verbatim. “And she said to please bring your doggy, too,” she added with an impish grin.

  I glanced at Peter, since he’d planned to go to the Soldier’s Home at that time. But as he nodded at me, we realized this worked even better, since if there happened to be people watching the road, the pattern of two adults traveling with their two enormous dogs would be changed.

  “Yes, Maureen, please tell Mrs. Surratt that I appreciate her kindness.” Any opportunity to get into the household was one we couldn’t miss due to her son’s involvement with the Confederate government. Soon, spies and collaborators would begin to use the Surratt house as a gathering place for strategic planning. And when that happened, we’d be watching from our hidey-hole across the street.

  After Maureen left, timing her dash across the street when the lightening had been absent for a few seconds, I returned to the table to pick over the remains of my meal. Peter and Kipp resumed their spirited debate over some point in history that seemed to consume their interests…quite honestly, I’d not paid attention to their exchanges. Elani was stretched on the floor before the stove, yawning, her eyes blinking sleepily.

  “I worry we are a little off pace,” I blurted out. As the others snapped to alertness, I glanced at each of my companions in turn. “We really have no grasp on anything we’ve been searching for, and I’m concerned we’ve gotten sidetracked by all the other things that seem to occupy our time and interest,” I added.

  “In what way?” Elani asked. This was her trip her design, after all, and any thoughts I might have directly impacted her.

  “Our focus should be Mary Surratt, and I almost feel like I am a tourist, a sightseer, occupied by visiting historical sites and meeting famous and infamous people. My engagement with Mary Surratt is not what it needs to be.” I felt my shoulders lift with tension, pulling them up almost to my ears, it seemed; rolling my head from side to side, I tried to stretch out the tightness in my neck. The kettle of water was simmering on the stovetop, and I walked over to prepare a pot of tea, feeling as if I needed to occupy my idle hands with something constructive. Kipp had withdrawn his busy thoughts from my head, allowing me space to think without his presence.

  “What do you think we should be doing differently?” Peter asked. Without his horn-rimmed glasses, he looked younger, almost like a teenager with a full beard of dark hair. He swept his hair from his forehead with his fingers before gently
stroking his beard to smooth the stray hairs.

  “I think we may need to separate more, making occasional visits to some of the haunts mentioned in history, hopefully encountering some of the other players in this grisly drama. My hope would be that we can gather thoughts from some of the men involved that might implicate or exonerate Mary Surratt. So far, all we gather is that she knows her son is involved with the Confederate spy ring, and she is worried for his safety.” I brought the steeping teapot to the table and pushed my half-eaten plate of food aside.

  Elani gave a deep, shuddering lupine sigh as she considered my words. Even though I was the elder whom she respected, it was, as I’d pointed out, her time-shift. She was in the position to consider how to proceed. Kipp, meanwhile, closed his eyes, and although he was not asleep, he gave an excellent imitation of the desert-bound Sphinx resting in the depthless sand of Egypt, his legs tucked beneath his powerful body. He reminded me of a house cat pretending to fit in a meatloaf pan.

  “I realize it is seductive for us to want to spend time with Lincoln, since his days are so short,” Elani began. “And I’d like to see some of that continue but very limited.” Elani paused and might have hummed if she’d had the ability. “I think Peter can continue to work with Tad but following the plan of a schedule that varies the routine so that any spies might be less likely to associate him with Lincoln, per se. And, Peter,” she said, glancing at her partner, who sat up straighter in his chair, “you need to think of a very good story in case you are stopped by spies.” She glanced at me. “There may be valuable information we can gain from any potential Confederate agents who are monitoring the roads.”

  I actually hadn’t considered that point, but it was a sound one. Picking up one of the fragile daffodil-patterned teacups, I turned it in my hands, marveling at the artistry and delicacy of the china. Holding it up to the light, I noticed through the translucence of the china a sweet, diffuse glow of amber, which would signify the teacup to be of good quality. Squinting, I examined the hallmark on the base. Sighing, I stood, replacing the cup on the table. It was time to get to work.

  “Today is December 23rd, so I recommend we covertly stake out The National Hotel and attempt to eavesdrop on the initial meeting of Booth, Dr. Mudd, and John Surratt.” I glanced around the room. “Everything that follows begins to come together, to be set in motion, with this meeting today.”

  “They will be traveling on 7th Street,” Kipp remarked, having fallen out of his stupor. “So we can set up two posts, perhaps one on C Street and the other on Pennsylvania Avenue. Of course, Elani and I will make it difficult to blend in, so we will have to remain hidden as best we can.”

  Being stirred into action was the best way I could think of to reignite our focus, so we took turns watching the front entrance of Surratt’s boarding house, ready to follow John Surratt when he left on his way to meet Dr. Mudd and Booth. A friend of Surratt’s and fellow boarder, Louis Weichmann, was said to have accompanied him. And although he had been trusted by the Surratts, he would later give up information that would implicate the family with the conspiracy against Lincoln. I guess he was covering his own behind so that he, too, wouldn’t face an accusation and imprisonment.

  Waiting is just part of what symbionts do, and I admit I began to doze in the bright patch of sunlight that found its way mid-afternoon to the center of the parlor floor. I jerked awake as Kipp’s thoughts shouted into my brain as well as that of Peter and Elani. It was time!

  Grabbing our heavy coats and hats, we dashed down the stairs and exited through the kitchen door. I glanced up at the sky, which was thankfully free of threatening clouds. The streets were a muddy mess from the almost constant rain, and I puddle jumped as best I could so as not to completely ruin the hem of my skirt. John Surratt’s slender, slight figure was disappearing down the street as he walked west, Weichmann at his side. Surratt had a unique rolling gait, making him distinctive in the crowd, so it was easy to keep them in sight, and fortunately the road and sidewalks were busy with people, thus helping us to vanish, lost in the sea of humanity. As the two men turned south on 7th Street, we slowed, knowing that at some point, Booth and Samuel Mudd would encounter the two and return to Booth’s hotel room to conspire.

  Kipp closed his eyes in rapt concentration before he looked up at me and nodded. The first meeting had taken place as the four men made the necessary introductions. Kipp, as he’d done before, almost acted like a collector of the distant thoughts, focusing in on them and feeding them to the rest of us who had some similar skills, but not to his level. Oh, yes, the men were all pleased to meet one another. I looked at Peter, my mouth twisting. Without saying anything, he grasped my upper arm, giving it a squeeze, before he and Elani struck out on their own, their destination Pennsylvania Avenue. I watched Peter’s dark hat bobbing along as he wove a path amongst the people who were traveling at that time of day; Elani moved with a sinuous grace at his side. It was only a couple of minutes before they disappeared from view, as well as my thoughts.

  “Let’s go,” Kipp urged me, using his long nose to poke me in the thigh.

  “Okay,” I replied, and we cut over one block to then travel south along 6th Street, slowing our pace so that we wouldn’t inadvertently run into Booth before the four men got inside the hotel. Our path seemed clear, and we turned on C Street, traveling a half a block before we claimed a spot near a haberdashery that must have catered to upper-class gentlemen, if the clientele was any clue. Half shutting my eyes against the sunlight, I realized that the sun had passed its zenith and was beginning to descend in the west. Already, the sky had lost the brilliant blue of midday and was beginning to soften with the muted, lavender grays of twilight. Kipp jumped back as an overweight man almost trod on his toes.

  “Watch it,” Kipp grumbled, growling involuntarily. The heavy gentleman, hearing the ominous rumbling sound, turned, became alarmed when he saw the oversized Kipp glaring at him, and hurried away, swinging his walking stick vigorously.

  “Try and contain yourself,” I warned Kipp. “We don’t want any attention drawn to ourselves.”

  Although humanity teemed around us, Kipp turned his remarkable ability to search and focus, and it was only a few seconds later when he looked up at me, pleased. “I found him,” he said, breathing a deep sigh of relief.

  I actually could follow his thoughts and linked my mind with his, almost as if we were holding hands. Yes, the thoughts of Booth flooded my mind, and unpleasant ones they were, filled with hatred and anger.

  “What’s wrong with this guy?” Kipp muttered, meaning Booth, as he pushed back against my legs as another man stepped a little too close.

  I grasped the door frame where we stood, trying not to take a tumble onto the street. “Kipp, we aren’t here to try and unravel John Wilkes Booth. It’s enough you understand his longstanding resentments beginning with competition against his father and brother. He’s an angry man searching for a remedy he’ll never find to fix his broken soul.”

  It was not difficult to follow the thoughts of the men as Dr. Mudd, Booth, and John Surratt discussed what they thought was the state of affairs consuming the nation. While Surratt and Mudd were more controlled and calculating, Booth seemed deranged, barely able to control his agitation, and his energy almost derailed the conversations. Weichmann was quiet, mainly an observer in the discussion. There was a moment when he clearly wished he’d not gone with Surratt that day, since Booth’s harangue made it difficult to relax and enjoy the excellent brandy that Booth was providing.

  “The discussion has to do with how to disrupt the government,” Kipp breathed. “Surratt mentioned that his superiors who oversee the spying for the Confederate government have entertained the thought that if Lincoln could be kidnapped and held, it could force the Union to withdraw and negotiate a peace.”

  At that minute, a shadowy figure appeared in one of the windows above, and before Kipp said anything, I knew it was Booth, who was staring out the window, his eyes aimlessly sear
ching. It would be only a moment before he found us, skulking, looking obviously guilty, hiding in a doorway where we had no business. It would do better to be bold, I thought instantly. So, with Kipp following, I made as if I was exiting the building where we’d taken refuge and began to walk, my head up high, almost whistling happily as I ambled along, trying to not skip with pretend exuberance.

  “Yes, he sees us,” Kipp remarked, taking his place at my side. He paused, in his guise of dog, to sniff at something along the sidewalk. “Yuk,” he moaned. “I wish I’d chosen something else to smell because that, whatever it is, stinks.”

  “Kipp, stop it,” I whispered. “You’re gonna make me laugh, and then I’ll look like a crazy woman.”

  Above, Booth’s thoughts were directed at me and took a turn toward the lascivious, as was his nature towards women. He saw the female sex as an object needing conquest and certainly not as a potential equal. Kipp, as always, was fiercely protective of me as his thoughts began to fill my head.

  “Let it go, Kipp,” I directed. “It is what it is, right?”

  We turned the corner, fighting against the crowd of traffic since The National Hotel was an extremely busy location, and walked until we spied Peter and Elani, who were parked across the street, standing beneath a street lantern. Peter’s head went up as he motioned for us to join them.

  “Well, how did it go?” I asked.

  “Elani was able to follow some of their thoughts, but it was difficult due to all the human minds at work,” he replied, his shoulders slumping a bit.