City of Lies

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City of Lies Page 29

by Victoria Thompson


  “You can’t do this,” the general said, outraged. “I’m a personal friend of President Wilson. He’ll never allow it.”

  “When he heard what you were doing, he signed the warrant himself, General.” The colonel nodded to two other soldiers. “Take him.” They moved around the table and grabbed hold of the general, who seemed too flummoxed to even react.

  Thornton suddenly realized with alarm that the first soldier had also picked up the envelope containing the bank drafts. “Wait, that’s mine.”

  He would have lunged for the soldier, but the colonel held up his hand to stop him and snatched the envelope for himself. “What’s this? Ah, yes, bank drafts.” He looked up and shook his head. “Forged, I’m afraid, and worthless. The general was going to steal your property . . . What was he buying from you?”

  “Rifles,” Thornton said through the thickness in his throat.

  The colonel nodded. “We’ve been watching him for some time now. The last time it was buttons for uniforms. The time before it was saddles for horses the army doesn’t even use anymore. By the time you discovered that the drafts were worthless, the general would have sold your rifles to the army himself. Let’s go, men.”

  The two soldiers shoved the general into motion.

  “Vanderslice, do something,” the general cried. “You can’t let them take me.”

  Vanderslice turned his stupid face to Bates. “Can’t you do something?”

  “I’m afraid not. It’s an army matter,” he said. “Will he be tried in a military court?” he asked the colonel.

  “Yes,” the colonel said. “I’m sorry to have shocked you gentlemen like this, but there was no other way. We had to catch him in the act. You’ll all be called to testify, of course.”

  “But what about my rifles?” Thornton suddenly realized.

  “What about them?” the colonel asked.

  “Those papers you’re taking, that’s my bills of sale proving I own them.”

  “And you’ll still own them. They’ll be safe and sound wherever you’re keeping them while we get this all settled.”

  “But I need to sell them immediately, and I can’t without those papers.”

  “As I said, it’s evidence. I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until after the trial.”

  “But I can’t wait!” Thornton nearly shouted as panic welled in him. He had a mortgage and a loan to pay and only a few hundred dollars left to his name.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but there’s nothing I can do. It won’t be long, only a month or two, I’m sure. It’s wartime and the army will want this settled quickly.”

  Quickly? A month or two wasn’t quickly! And what was he supposed to do in the meantime? The general and his guards were gone and so was the soldier with the papers and Thornton’s money. Without that, he wouldn’t even be able to pay Fletcher and Lester. Which reminded him. “Fletcher!”

  “Was that your man outside?” the colonel asked. “I had to take him into custody. He was threatening my men.” He turned to Vanderslice. “You may call at the armory tomorrow. Ask for me. By then I’ll be able to tell you more. Good day, gentlemen.”

  “Good God,” Vanderslice said, sinking back into his chair when the colonel and his men were gone. “I can’t believe it. I had the man as a guest in my home.”

  What did that matter when Thornton had lost everything? “You’ve got to get those papers back, Vanderslice.”

  “You heard what he said,” Vanderslice said. “They’re evidence.”

  “But I need them. I need to sell those rifles or I’m ruined.”

  “You heard the colonel,” Bates said. “You can sell them after the trial.”

  Thornton closed his hands into fists, wishing he dared use them on the attorney. “I borrowed money against the house and I took out a loan. Both are due in thirty days.”

  “Can’t you sell the house to satisfy the mortgage at least?” Vanderslice asked.

  “If it sells that quickly, but there’s still the loan.”

  “And you don’t have the funds to pay that back?” Bates asked. Was he smirking?

  He had to swallow his pride before he could speak. “I put everything I own into those rifles.”

  “I’m sure we can work this out,” Vanderslice said with his phony enthusiasm. “The colonel said I should go down to the armory and ask for him tomorrow, so that’s what I’ll do. He can’t possibly object to your selling the rifles yourself. Surely, the army still wants them.”

  “And what if you can’t work it out? No, we’re going to the armory right now, before this Inchwood has a chance to do anything. And I want those bank drafts returned. We only have Inchwood’s word that they’re no good.”

  Bates and Vanderslice just stared back at him, gaping like the stupid oxen they were. “Fletcher!” he shouted again. Where had that idiot gotten to? Surely, the soldiers hadn’t arrested him, too.

  Fletcher came staggering in, straightening his coat and looking dazed.

  “Where have you been?” Thornton demanded.

  “They grabbed me and dragged me outside.” He rubbed his jaw gingerly. “Roughed me up pretty good. Then they threw that general into one of them ambulance trucks and drove off.”

  “Get me a taxicab. We have to go to the armory.”

  “Where’s that?”

  Thornton realized he had no idea. He turned back to Bates and Vanderslice.

  “There’s an armory on Lexington and Twenty-fifth,” Bates offered.

  “But isn’t there one on Fort Washington Avenue?” Vanderslice asked.

  “What about the one in Sunset Park?” Bates asked.

  “Inchwood didn’t say which one we should go to, did he?” Vanderslice asked.

  Thornton swore. “Which one is closest?”

  In the end, the cab driver took the four men to the 69th Regiment Armory on Lexington, but the idiot private at the front desk knew nothing about a Colonel Inchwood. They finally found a sergeant who sent them to the 7th Regiment Armory on Park Avenue, where a young lieutenant also knew nothing but sent them to the 8th Regiment Armory, where they finally found a colonel who listened to Thornton’s story with a puzzled frown.

  “Are you sure these were really soldiers?” the colonel asked when Thornton had finished his story.

  What a stupid question! “Of course they were. They had on uniforms, and this Inchwood fellow told us to come to the armory to claim our property,” Thornton said, stretching the truth a bit.

  “And he didn’t tell you which armory you should go to?”

  “No,” Thornton said, swallowing down his fury because shouting at this martinet wasn’t going to get him what he wanted.

  “That’s very suspicious. You see, I’m not aware of any investigation into profiteering at all, and I’ve never heard of a Colonel Inchwood here in the city.”

  “What do you mean?” Bates asked. “Do you think this Inchwood was lying?”

  “That’s exactly what I think,” the colonel said.

  “But he arrested a general,” Thornton nearly shouted. “A retired general, at any rate. And Senator Wadsworth had sent the general to Vanderslice in the first place.”

  The colonel frowned beneath his lush mustache. “Did you speak to the senator yourself?”

  “Uh, no,” Vanderslice said. “I mean, he’d already sent Thornton to me, so when the general told me the senator had sent him, too . . .”

  “So you only had the general’s word,” the colonel said.

  Thornton saw it all then. The general wasn’t really a general at all, and he’d tricked Thornton into signing over all of his rifles to him. It was just like Inchwood had said, except Inchwood was in on it, too. They’d stolen his rifles, or at least they would now that they had the signed bills of sale, unless he could get them back . . .

  The colonel was telling th
em there were a few more armories in the city they could visit, but he was sure they wouldn’t find Inchwood at any of them. Thornton didn’t even listen. As the four of them walked out of the armory, Thornton told Fletcher to get a cab.

  “We can check the other armories,” Vanderslice was saying. “This fellow might be wrong. If it’s an investigation, maybe it’s a secret.”

  A cab pulled up and Fletcher opened the door. “You can go to the other armories if you want,” Thornton told the other two men. “But I know who’s behind this and that’s where I’m going.” He climbed into the cab and Fletcher followed. He told the driver where to go, and the cab lurched away from the curb, leaving Bates and Vanderslice behind.

  • • •

  “What did he mean that he knows who’s behind this?” David asked as the cab pulled away.

  Gideon knew only too well, but he said, “Why don’t you visit the other armories, just to be sure? I’ve got to . . . I’ve got to go.” He looked around frantically, but saw no cabs, so he started walking without even waiting for David’s reply. Dodging the other pedestrians, he worked his way through the crowded sidewalks. The winter sun had already disappeared behind the tall buildings, and everyone was heading home for dinner. Traffic was jammed at each intersection, and he darted between the vehicles with no regard for his own safety.

  All he could think about was Elizabeth alone at his house with no idea that she was in danger. Because surely that’s who Thornton blamed for all of this. Rightly so, if Gideon had put all the pieces together correctly, but that didn’t mean Thornton had the right to revenge. Or maybe it did, but Gideon wasn’t going to allow it, not if he could beat him there.

  He had a good chance, too, since the cab would be slowed by the traffic, but Gideon could dart right through, ignoring blaring horns and screeching tires and shouted curses. After what seemed an eternity of racing through the darkening streets and pushing past countless strangers, he reached his own street, panting and holding the stitch in his side, but refusing to slow his pace. As he’d hoped, the cab was just pulling away from the curb in front of his house. No sign of Fletcher, so he must have gone inside with Thornton. Where was the other one? What was his name? Lester, yes. Elizabeth said Thornton had one of his men watching her all the time, but he saw no sign of Lester, either. Had he gone in with them, too? How on earth would he protect her from all three of them?

  He was running when he reached the stoop and had to grab hold of the railing to swing around and up the steps. The front door stood open, and inside Thornton was shouting. Gideon took the steps two at a time and launched himself down the hall and into the parlor, where Elizabeth faced Thornton.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she was saying.

  “Leave her alone,” Gideon said.

  “Stay out of this, Bates,” Thornton said, nodding to his men, who were both there, as Gideon had feared.

  Before he could think, they’d grabbed him, each holding an arm in a vicelike grip. He struggled, but they held him fast. He was no match for them physically, but if he couldn’t beat them with brawn, he’d have to use his wits. “She didn’t have anything to do with this.”

  Thornton turned to him with interest. “And why would you say that unless you already knew why I suspected her?”

  “Because she told me everything about how she knows you and how you threatened her.”

  “Gideon, don’t!” Elizabeth cried. “Just leave. He won’t dare hurt me.”

  “Won’t I?” Thornton asked with a smile that turned Gideon’s blood to ice. “And now that you mention it, I think it will be even better if Bates is here to watch. Make sure he doesn’t get loose, boys.”

  Frantic, Gideon tore one arm free from his captor and would have lunged at Thornton but his other captor punched him in the stomach, driving the breath from his lungs and sending him to his knees, nauseated and gasping. As he fought for breath, he heard a new voice and thought he must surely be hallucinating.

  “What’s going on here?” Anna Vanderslice said in a commanding tone he’d never heard her use before. She’d waltzed into the room like some kind of snow queen wearing a fur-trimmed coat and a white fur hat with her hands tucked into a matching muff. “Have you gotten yourself into even more trouble, Elizabeth?”

  “Anna, this doesn’t concern you. Get out of here!” Elizabeth cried. “And please, go find a policeman!”

  “Yes, Miss Vanderslice,” Thornton said. “Get out of here now, but don’t bother with a policeman.”

  Anna glared at Thornton as if he were a bug she’d found floating in her soup. “Are you here to get your revenge on Elizabeth? Oh yes, she told me all about it, back when she thought we were friends, but now . . . Well, I’m sorry, Mr. Thornton, but I have a prior claim on her. She’s a lying, scheming harlot, and she’s betrayed me for the last time.” Anna slipped her left hand out of her muff and pointed the muff on her right hand at Elizabeth.

  The muff exploded.

  The noise was impossibly loud, and for a few seconds they were all too stunned to move. But Elizabeth had clapped her hands to her chest, and blood began to ooze from between her fingers. She made a small cry of distress and sank to her knees as Anna began to scream.

  “What have I done!” she cried, demanding it over and over of every person in the room. “What have I done!”

  Gideon staggered to his feet, forgotten by his captors, who were still too stunned to take any action at all. Thornton gaped at Elizabeth, who cried out again as blood dribbled from her mouth.

  Anna was still screaming, begging Thornton to help her now, but he could only stare at Elizabeth as she toppled over onto her side.

  “Boss,” Fletcher said, “we need to get out of here.”

  Gideon sucked in as much air as he could and lurched to Anna. When she turned to him, he grabbed the muff and jerked it off her hand. A pistol fell to the floor.

  “Yeah, the coppers will be here, and you don’t want them pinning this on you,” Lester said. They grabbed Thornton and started dragging him from the room. He didn’t resist. He still couldn’t seem to tear his gaze from Elizabeth, who lay deathly still as blood flowed from her mouth and slowly stained her shirtwaist.

  “I didn’t mean to kill her, Gideon!” Anna cried.

  Was she insane? He didn’t know and he didn’t care and he couldn’t deal with her now anyway.

  He snatched up the pistol and stuffed it into his pocket as he sucked in another ragged breath and threw himself to his knees beside Elizabeth.

  Anna was screaming again, begging Thornton to help her, which sent him and his men scrambling out even faster.

  Gideon’s heart had stopped. He knew he was going to die, because no one could feel pain like this and survive. He reached out to her, longing with everything in him to save her and knowing of nothing that would help. A doctor? A hospital? Nothing could save her from a wound like that.

  Was she still breathing? “Elizabeth?” he whispered.

  Her eyes fluttered and opened just a bit. Could she see him? Could she hear him? Miraculously, she lifted one bloodied hand from the terrible wound in her chest and held it out to him. He took it in both of his.

  “Elizabeth, I’m sorry, so very sorry. I never meant to judge you. I don’t judge you. You did what you had to do. I’m sorry I was angry. It was just because I love you so much and I . . .” His voice broke and he had to blink away the tears. He could cry later, after she was gone.

  “You . . . really . . . love me?” she asked in a broken whisper.

  “Of course I do! I love you more than life itself. I want to marry you and spend the rest of my life making sure no one ever hurts you again.”

  She smiled at that, a sad, bloody smile that broke his heart into a million pieces, because they both knew the rest of her life was only minutes now. How would he ever live without her?

  �
�Oh dear,” Anna said. She sounded annoyed.

  Annoyed? At some point she’d stopped screaming, and he’d forgotten all about her in his concern for Elizabeth. He glanced up to see her furtively peering out the front window. She must be insane. What else could explain all this?

  “Mrs. Bates just got home,” Anna reported. “Thornton is taking her taxicab.”

  “Gideon?” Elizabeth whispered, drawing him back, reminding him they had only minutes left. “Did you . . . say . . . marry me?”

  “Yes!” he assured her. “I was going to propose as soon as you broke your engagement to David.”

  “Even though . . . I’m a liar . . . ?”

  “I love you, Elizabeth. I love you for everything you are, and if you lie, well, everyone lies.”

  “You don’t.”

  “It doesn’t matter. None of it matters now. I just want you to know how very much I love you. Always remember that.”

  “They’re gone,” Anna reported from her post at the window.

  To Gideon’s amazement, Elizabeth smiled, and while it was still bloody, it was no longer sad. In fact, it was positively wicked. And then she sat up.

  What the . . . ?

  “It worked,” Anna cried, clapping her hands in delight. “It was even better than the way we practiced!”

  “You were marvelous, Anna,” Elizabeth said in her normal voice, the one she used when she hadn’t suffered a fatal gunshot wound.

  Gideon looked from her face to the bloody spot in the middle of her chest and back to her face again. “You’re shot,” he said stupidly.

  “Not really. Anna used blanks.” She touched the bloody mess on her chest. “This is chicken blood.” She pulled a handkerchief from the sleeve of her shirtwaist and wiped her bloody face. Then she removed something black from her mouth and wrapped it in the handkerchief.

  “You aren’t dead.”

  She smiled again, and this time she looked a little embarrassed. “Not yet at least.”

  “What on earth is going on here?” his mother demanded from the parlor doorway. “Oscar Thornton practically dragged me out of my cab and threw my bags on the sidewalk, and, Gideon, what are you doing on the floor and—”

 

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