As part of her duties, Ceci was required to run errands. Again, Doucet had made it easy for her to move around. At her earliest opportunity, she made her way to the General Store on the corner of Maple Street, barely a mile from the house.
She paused, glancing apprehensively through the window. Several customers were roaming around inside. This was her second test of nerve. She had to remain calm and act normally. She entered, loitering furtively at the back of the premises, as if perusing the merchandise. It wasn’t until the last of the clientele had left that she felt it was safe to approach the counter.
A tall woman of about forty, stood behind it. Clearly she had been attractive once, but her looks were fading now. Judging from the description, she’d been given, she assumed it was Enola Sykes. She smiled as Ceci came up to her.
Ceci drew a deep breath. “I wonder,” she began. “Do you have any Indian Gold Thread?”
The smile wavered a little. “Why, of course, my dear,” she replied, the smile returning. “I think I have just what you need.” She produced a small carpet bag from behind the counter and set it down in front of her, placing her hand on top of it. “Don’t open it in here,” she advised, in hushed tones.
Ceci thanked her, then introduced herself as Mariah Johnson of Akron Ohio, learning in return that it was, indeed, Enola Sykes, to whom she was speaking.
“You have a fine store, Mrs Sykes,” she complimented her. “I think I shall do all my errands here from now on.”
“I’m so very glad to hear that,” Enola’s smile broadened. “I shall look forward to seeing you again, very soon.”
Carrying the bag through the street made Ceci feel nervous and self-conscious. It was like having a stick of dynamite in her hand. She rebuked herself for her paranoia. She’d been trained better than this. She forced herself to calm down, her footsteps becoming easy and measured. No matter what happened, she must not attract attention to herself.
As soon as she reached the house, she went straight to her room, locked the door and opened the bag. It contained, amongst other things, the two lightweight uniforms and the dress. There was also a compass, maps, codebooks, and a Colt revolver with ammunition. The contents of this bag would not have passed inspection at the Long Bridge in Alexandria. Again, Doucet had done his job well. Ceci hid the bag in her bedside cabinet and locked it, keeping the key with her at all times. Now she possessed the means to carry out her espionage. On the other hand, it also represented irrefutable evidence of her being a spy.
***
Everything Doucet had told her came to pass. Josiah Douglas did indeed love to entertain, almost every night. His many guests included soldiers from the rank of Lieutenant up, congressmen, town dignitaries, anyone in fact that could boost his ego, and what he felt was his position in the community. He was a creature of outstanding imprudence, openly discussing sensitive issues right in front of anyone who happened to be there. More often than not it was Ceci, in her guise as a maid, serving drinks or coffee. What she missed she could usually catch up on when he repeated the information to his wife once his guests had left. The rest she gathered by listening at doors. If anyone chanced to find her there, which didn’t happen often, quite naturally she was just about to enter, to serve or clear away. It was incredible the amount of information that flowed out of that house. It was just like taking candy from a baby.
***
The winters in Washington were cold. It was the first time Ceci had ever seen snow. The damp air seeped into the marrow of her bones. She missed the Louisiana sunshine. She missed her home on the plantation, and most of all, she missed Hecubah. She hoped that, one day, she might be able to make a reconciliation with her, if such a thing were even possible. She hoped that, one day, she might go home again, but above all, she longed to see Trent.
There were some nights, when she would sit alone in her room sobbing quietly to herself out of sheer loneliness. When she got very low, she’d force herself to remember her dead father, her sister, and the niece she had never seen. Purposely evoking the dark creature within her to remind her of why she was here. It gave her strength and purpose, driving her endlessly on, regardless of hope or desire, without conscience or emotion, towards-what? She wasn’t sure she knew. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever known.
***
The upstairs maid had twisted her ankle and been confined to her room for a few days. Florina asked Ceci if she would take Amelia’s dinner up to her on a tray.
As she entered the room, Ceci saw a pale young woman, in an advanced state of pregnancy, sitting at her dressing table. She’d let her hair down, and was attempting to brush it, in long listless strokes.
“Please put it on the table,” she requested, without turning.
Ceci did as she asked, pausing to look at her, as she struggled with her wayward tresses.
“Let me do that,” she offered, advancing.
Amelia glanced round. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she gasped, “you’re the new girl. I hadn’t realised.”
“I’ve been here three months now,” Ceci replied, taking the brush from her.
“That long,” Amelia sighed, glancing down at her swollen stomach. “How the time has flown.”
Ceci could see, from the reflection in the mirror, that Amelia didn’t have much longer to wait.
“As you can see,” she gestured, noticing her interest. “I am a fallen woman. Do I disgust you?”
“No,” Ceci answered truthfully. “Of course, not.” She continued to brush the girl’s hair for a moment, before asking. “Do you still love him?”
Amelia reached out and picked up a picture, much like the one Ceci kept of Trent. “With all my heart,” she sighed, touching it to her lips.
“Where is he now?” Ceci kept brushing.
“Frank is away, fighting in the war,” Amelia sighed again. “He left before he knew of my condition. Otherwise, he would have married me.” She paused. “I pray every day for his safe return.”
Ceci couldn’t fail to see the similarities between them. “What will you do, if he doesn’t come back?” she felt bound to ask.
Amelia tensed. “If that is God’s will,” she declared resolutely. “I will be proud to raise Frank’s child, in his name, on my own. I don’t care what people think, or say, about me.”
Ceci stopped brushing, and placed her hand gently on the girl’s shoulder. “You’re very brave.”
Amelia looked into the mirror, at Ceci’s reflection. “I see it in your eyes,” she observed. “You have a young man fighting in the war as well.”
Ceci couldn’t help but smile. Not only did she have a young man fighting in the war, he was on the same side as Frank. “Yes, I do,” she admitted.
“What’s his name?” Amelia seemed eager to know.
There were no real names in the world Ceci inhabited now. “James,” she plucked it out of the air.
Amelia placed her hand over Ceci’s. “I will pray for him too.”
“I’d best be getting back to my duties,” Ceci put the brush back on the dressing table.
“Please, come again, whenever you can,” Amelia pleaded. “I am starved of company.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Ceci assured her.
She closed the door behind her, and leaned back against it. For the first time, since she’d crossed the border, she’d met a northerner she didn’t view with malice. The dark creature within her stirred, growling a warning but this time she ignored it. No matter what had happened to her in the past, she couldn’t find it in her heart to hate this young woman.
***
“I’m afraid it’s quite a long list today, Mrs Sykes,” Ceci informed her, as she passed the coded message across the counter.
“Not to worry, honey,” Enola smiled, as the customers around them looked on. “I’m always so grateful for your custom
, but you’ll have to pick them up tomorrow.”
“That’s all right,” Ceci assured her, continuing to play her part. “In the meantime, I’ll take this with me.” She always made a point of buying something whenever she visited the store, to add authenticity to the transaction.
Enola wrapped her purchase and gave it to her. “Don’t forget your receipt,” she remarked, as Ceci made to leave.
She faltered a little, glancing at the other customers. In all the time she’d passed information, she’d never got a message back. As she reached for the slip of paper, she knew something had changed.
Chapter Twenty Two
As soon as she was able, Ceci decoded the message to discover that Mrs Sykes had a new customer. A young soldier, a telegraph operator, with a taste for hard rock candy. Apparently, he came into the store at the same time, on the same day, every week. That was all the message contained, but the opportunity it presented, was obvious.
When the day came around again, Ceci put on the best dress she’d brought with her, made a special effort with her hair, applied some lip colour and a dab of perfume, arriving at the store fifteen minutes before her target was due. As she entered, Enola produced a pile of bogus packages and placed them on the counter. Then they both waited. Presently, the young soldier came in. “Good morning, Ma’am,” he smiled broadly. “A bag of hard rock candy, if you please.”
He was square jawed, with a shock of black hair, and long sideburns that swept down his cheeks. He appeared friendly, and somewhat naive.
Ceci waited until he’d paid and begun to move away from the counter. Then she picked up the packages and stepped forwards, allowing him to collide with her, knocking the packages onto the floor.
“Oh, Lord. I’m so clumsy,” he apologised. “That was entirely my fault.”
She made as if to pick them up.
“No,” he insisted. “Please, allow me.” He knelt, hastily gathering up the packages. After a moment, he rose, placing the pile on the counter.
She put her head on one side, and smiled sweetly. “Thank you, sir,” she breathed softly. “You are so very kind.”
He seemed momentarily taken aback, lost for words. Then, suddenly, he came to his senses. Tearing his cap from his head, he thrust out his hand. “Charles Zephron Munroe,” he introduced himself. “At your service, ma’am.” His face creased into a boyish grin. “Everyone calls me Charlie.”
Ceci took his hand, holding it just a little longer than was necessary. “It’s very nice to meet you, Charlie,” she responded, still smiling, before releasing him and reaching for the packages.
“Allow me,” he intervened. “I’d be proud to carry them home for you. It’s the least I can do.”
“I just knew you were a gentleman,” she fluttered her eyelashes at him.
His chest swelled. He scooped up the packages in one arm, offering her the other.
She took it, pressing herself shamelessly close to him. As he began to escort her from the store, she managed a glance at Mrs Sykes. Enola nodded approvingly. At that moment, Ceci recalled the time she’d sat on the bank of the bayou with Hecubah, and watched a heron swallow a fish whole.
***
“I see you’re in the army,” Ceci observed casually, as they sauntered along the street.
“Yes, Ma’am,” he nodded.
She stopped, regarding him with large eyes. “Please,” she invited. “Call me Mariah.”
He gulped. “Yes, Ma’am – I mean, Mariah.”
“What do you do in the army, Charlie?” she asked innocently.
“I’m a telegraph operator,” he told her.
“What does that mean?”
“I send and receive messages,” he explained. “Mighty important ones,” he rattled on. “Sometimes, top secret, to Generals, even the President.”
“My, that sounds so exciting,” she gasped, pressing a hand to her breast.
His chest swelled again. Then, suddenly, his face fell. He hesitated. “I guess I really shouldn’t talk about it,” he began to reconsider.
“Oh, I see,” she remarked bluntly, making her disappointment obvious. “Oh, well,” she sighed dismissively. “If you’d rather not.”
He faltered, impaled on the horns of a dilemma. Confronted with the agony of decision. Reluctant to lose an opportunity to impress her. Finally, he shrugged. “Oh, I guess it can’t hurt,” he grinned again. “You being a girl an’ all.”
“That’s right,” she encouraged him, “I doubt if I’ll understand a single word of it.”
When they reached the Douglas house, he returned her packages to her. She made a point of giving him a peck on the cheek, ostensibly in gratitude for his service to her, but her motives were entirely different.
He touched his fingers to the spot, emboldened by her display. “May I see you again?” he asked tentatively.
“I’d like that,” she smiled. “My employer doesn’t allow followers at the house,” she told him, just to make sure he never turned up unannounced and cause a lot of awkward questions. “But I’d be happy to meet you outside the store tomorrow, at the same time.”
“Tomorrow, then,” he nodded his agreement, before walking away, a spring in his step.
Ceci watched him leave. So, she pondered, was that the face of the enemy? The object of all her hatred? Those she’d sworn vengeance on? Or was it merely a lonely young man, far from home, who thought he’d found himself a sweetheart? Again, the dark creature within her growled a warning, and again, she ignored it.
***
“What are you doing?” Ceci jerked her head back, as Charlie leaned forward.
“I was just trying to kiss you,” he seemed surprised by her reaction.
“Well, don’t,” she told him flatly.
For a moment, he seemed at a loss for what to say. “We’ve been going together for three weeks,” he pointed out. “You’d think I could kiss you by now.”
Ceci narrowed her eyes at him. “What kind of a girl do you think I am?” she remarked primly.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he attempted a clumsy apology. “It’s just that I thought we had an understanding.”
“We do,” she kept him dangling. “It’s just that I don’t like to be rushed.”
“It’s just a kiss,” he coaxed. “Where’s the harm in that?”
“Kissing leads to other things,” she was beginning to sound like a schoolmarm. “A young woman at the house where I work, has ruined herself. That all started with kissing.”
“I’d never do that to you,” he assured her vehemently. “I was raised to behave like a gentleman.”
“That’s what you say now,” she replied prudishly. “What happens if I give in?”
He thought about what she’d said, for a moment. “Are you thinking of giving in?” he asked hopefully.
She let him dangle a little longer. “I might,” she shrugged casually. “It all depends.”
“On what?” he couldn’t wait to know.
“I’m bored,” she suddenly seemed to lose interest in the conversation. “You haven’t told me any exciting stories in days. You still operate the telegraph, don’t you?”
“You know I do,” he frowned.
“Well then?” she urged.
He clicked his tongue in frustration. “I told you before. I shouldn’t. It’s confidential.”
“How’d you expect me to trust you, if you don’t confide in me?” She turned her back on him.
“All right,” he conceded desperately. “If I do, will I get a kiss?”
She turned around, smiling. “Maybe,” she teased, knowing full well that the best he could expect was a peck on the cheek. He still seemed undecided. She upped the ante a little. “I’ll let you put your arm around my waist,” she offered. “As long as you
don’t squeeze.”
“Well, that’s more like it,” he grinned appreciatively, all thoughts of national security fleeing from his mind. He reached out, pulling her towards him. “I’ve heard some things that’ll take your breath away.”
***
The room was rank with the pungent odour of cigar smoke, mingled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. It hung in the air in pale blue clouds, drifting around the room like vagrant ghosts.
“I can’t understand what happened at Chancellorsville,” a Union Major bit down on the end of his cigar. “We should have prevailed there. It was as if the Confederate troops knew exactly what we were thinking.”
“Spies, sir. Spies.” Josiah Douglas exhaled another cloud of smoke. “Insidious people, all around us.” He didn’t know, how right he was. “We must be constantly on our guard. More brandy?” he motioned to Ceci.
She brought the decanter over, as the Major held out his glass, without giving her a second glance. She smiled, as if at the Major. Chancellorsville, that was one of Charlie’s little indiscretions. She’d helped the South gain a victory. She was feeling good about herself, but it didn’t last long.
“You have no idea, sir, how low these rebels will stoop,” the Major went on to confirm Josiah’s suspicions. “Only the other day, an entire ammunition train was lost to a Confederate saboteur dressed as a Union soldier.” He took another swig of brandy. “Fifteen box cars, each one guarded by a dozen men, just blown to smithereens. The whole depot was destroyed. Hundreds of yards of track torn up. Only a few high-ranking officers knew it would be passing through there. God alone, knows how they found out about it.” He paused, to empty his glass. “Biggest explosion north of the Potomac. The fire ran out of control, cutting off the perpetrator’s escape.”
Josiah plucked the cigar from his mouth. “Are you saying, just one of them did all that?” he stared in amazement.
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