by Tony Masero
“Well,” he was tactful and said in compromise. “At least she lives in comfort now and is not starving on the fringes of society.”
“Oh, yes,” James agreed readily. “Mary is most well taken care of, I assure you.”
Zack shrugged off the unpleasant sensation the conversation was giving him and clapped James on the shoulder. “So, tell me? Who are your guests, whom it appears are arriving already?”
But James was not about to be diverted, “You are not upset with me then?” he asked doubtfully.
“Why should I be?”
“I mean about Mary. I know you were lovers once.”
“As you know, I am already promised,” Zack answered carefully.
“Well then,” James said with a relieved air. “I’m glad that is out of the way. Yes, our visitors,” he looked down at the ferry. “Important men, Zack. Many of them are high financiers and people of standing. Some of a political nature but all are the very backbone of our nation. You shall meet them later.”
“Sounds rather awe inspiring. How many are due to sit down with us?”
“There will be ten of us. In fact, rather jokingly, we call ourselves ‘The Ten’. It’s a kind of club, you see. Being the wealthiest in the land sets us apart a little and it is only in each others company that we feel really able to speak and act freely. The rest of society, yourself included, I dare say, cannot really understand how we move and shake when we have such resources at our disposal.”
“What do you mean exactly?” Zack asked with a frown. “You are set apart in some manner?”
“Well,” said James, shaking his head as if it were all too difficult to explain. “We have a collective sense of responsibility. It is a duty in a way, when one is blessed with such overwhelming wealth. You have your Rothchild’s, the Vanderbilt’s and the other better known millionaires, they are the apparent face of riches in the land but they do little realistically to improve affairs. ‘The Ten’ on the other hand, are faceless and discrete, unknown by the masses except in the most limited way. It is our task to raise this country from its knees and make it stride the earth in giant steps.”
Zack was troubled by what he was hearing as it appeared that all that Smith had told him weeks before in his office was true. That there were in fact, a secret cabal of operators that managed to effect and shift the affairs of the country outside of any respect for due process. He was here it seemed, in the midst of a group of people who would use their vast resources to manipulate and sway the course of events into any pattern that they favored. It was a frightening prospect for him.
“Why do you tell me all this?” he asked.
James shrugged. “Because you are my friend,” he answered simply. “You saved me whilst sorely wounded during the war and when you refused to leave me behind it proved that your loyalty is without question. I rather hoped you would join us in some way, not as one of ‘The Ten’ perhaps but we have many auxiliary helpers in all levels of society. It would be good to have someone trustworthy at our side. It would also prosper you greatly in financial terms if you join us, that I can promise you.”
“I’m not sure that I agree with such an arrangement though,” Zack admitted.
“What do you mean?”
“Surely it is the people that rule and are not ruled, is that not the basis of the Constitution, that all men have certain unquestionable rights.”
James chuckled. “On the face of it, that is so. But really, Zack, can you expect field laborers and office clerks to conceive of what is necessary to run a nation. The Constitution is a nice idea; it sounds sufficiently high-minded and fills peoples thoughts with the security of believing they are part of all that happens. The reality though, is something else.”
Zack was deeply concerned by what James was saying. The added confusion of finding Mary again and the sensation that had swelled in his chest at sight of her did little to ease the consternation that he experienced. He knew though, that he must play a part if he was to discover more about the machinations of the group and recognized he must make some effort to appear complicit.
“It all sounds mighty interesting,” he allowed. “I must say I should like to hear more. It is a great responsibility you offer me after all.”
James slapped the knee of his riding britches. “I knew you would agree!” he cried. “My dear friend, you don’t know how happy it will make me to be able to share all this with you. As an only child I have never in my life known the closeness of a sibling but ever since Libby I have felt that we should be like brothers. Come,” he said joyfully. “Lets go down to dinner.”
Zack saw then the longing that filled James’ heart, and the loneliness and want of companionship that had driven him to approach Zack in the first place. He was, at bottom, Zack realized quite a small-minded man and at a loss in the world of deeper emotions and he desperately wanted someone to guide him through the vagaries of such sentiments. When it came to the tangibles of the counting house and trade counter James was most efficient but in the recesses of the heart he was at a loss. The one thing Zack feared was that with such a lack of empathy, James could be capable of acts as cold-blooded and merciless as the most heartless of villains.
“I fear I am not dressed for such company,” he said to cover his thoughts as he indicated his rough gear.
“No,” said James. “But all that is taken care of. You have a room here and in it you will find proper dress for tonight’s festivities. You will have evening clothes to fit, I have arranged it all, don’t concern yourself.”
~*~
The suit of clothes that awaited Zack in his room was certainly of the best quality. A matching cut-away coat with black silk facings and a square cut vest and trousers were laid out beside a pressed white shirt and tie. It all fitted perfectly and Zack wondered how James could have arranged such a thing and then he considered that perhaps Mary had seen to the arrangements.
When he went down to the dining room, he found himself in a room open on one side to the warm evening air. A series of archways looked out onto the flowered patio and the room itself held a long narrow table set for dinner with white tablecloth and fine silverware. Around the table were a group of stolid looking men of all ages but most of them of an obvious stern and prosperous disposition. They all rotated in their chairs to face Zack as he entered.
“Aha!” cried James from the far end of the table where he stood with a full wine decanter in his hand. “Here is my friend Zachary. Gentlemen, I’d like you all to meet Zachary Endeavor, attorney-at-law. Zack is out of Boston where he is engaged to the late General Leeward Columbine’s daughter.”
Cautious nodded greetings were offered from around the table and Zack bowed politely. “Good evening, gentlemen.”
“General Columbine was a fine man. Old school, one of the best,” a bookish looking stalwart observed. “And how do you find Boston, Mister Endeavor?”
“Passable fine, sir,” Zack answered.
“Will you sit, Zack?” called James, indicating the vacant seat beside him. “A glass of wine?”
“I will, thank you,” said Zack, making his way along the table. As he passed them, he felt the collective eyes following his passage. They were a silent and unwelcoming group and he had a sense of predatory awareness about them all. The eyes that watched him were hard and pitiless and mostly the men wore drawn features and down turned bitter lips. Each was dressed smartly for dinner as if in some high society hall and not in the bowels of rough cow country. Zack had the distinct notion he was staring at a prearranged setting for a posed portrait tintype of some established and staid committee being recorded for posterity.
“So, gentlemen,” said James, lifting his wine glass. “A toast. To our blessed country, to these United States of America.”
A collective raising of glasses and an echoed response followed his call.
“You served with James in the late war, I believe?” asked the man sitting on Zack’s right. He was a tubby, bearded elderly gentleman w
ith flushed cheeks and a drinker’s red nose. He reeked of cigar smoke and was obviously under the influence of a quantity of earlier consumed alcohol.
“I did, sir,” Zack answered.
“And how did you find Van Olen, was he suitable fodder for the uniform?”
“James did his duty as we all did,” Zack answered evenly.
“Indeed, indeed,” uttered the older man, swallowing a long mouthful of wine that left his deep glass almost empty. “Boldly done, I’m sure.”
Low-key chatter was being offered in muted tones around the table, yet Zack was aware that eyes kept seeking him out as if he were under a microscope.
“You are speaking with Mister Elias Crowthorne of the Crowthorne and West Co-Operative Bank,” James introduced.
“A pleasure, sir,” said Zack.
“I’m sure,” said the old man dismissively, scratching at his ample stomach. “Look here, Van Olen. Do not spare the liquid refreshment. Pray, another glass.”
James duly pushed the decanter across the table. “Go to it, Elias,” he said with a smile. “We don’t stand on ceremony here.”
“An attorney, you say?” a voice piped up from across the opposite side of the table. “What type of matters do you handle, sir?” The questioner was a thin, peek-faced individual with a pair of gold-rimmed pince-nez pinned to his long nose.
“This is Professor Jacob Lloyd, who asks you, Zack,” introduced James. “A stock trader of some note, which is only one of his many interests.”
“Why we handle all manner of cases,” said Zack in answer. “Most recently it was defense in a murder trial.”
“Ah, yes. I think I read of it. Young Boston gal murdered, was it not? The case hung on some trinkets found on the suspect.”
“The very one,” said Zack.
“You got the fellow off?”
“We did but not without some difficulty.”
“Was he guilty?” A bulky, bull of a man sitting alongside Lloyd barked suddenly.
“Lars Wenders,” James supplied. “Khrone Steel and Ironworks.”
“He was not. Most definitely, he was not.”
“Would it have mattered if he was?” asked Wenders, his manner abrupt and his small pig-like eyes glittering coldly.
“Every charge is permitted defense under the law,” Zack answered.
“Yes,” Wenders went on. “But how say you to this? If you knew the fellow was the direst villain and as guilty as sin, would you still take on his case?”
“If the task were laid on me, then it would be my duty as an attorney to do so.”
“Even if he were a black-hearted villain.”
“I might not like the brief,” answered Zack. “But I should try and be objective and give the best defense I could.”
“And what of other matters?” asked Lloyd. “Mortgages, Wills and such. Do you attend to these also?”
“We do, Mister Lloyd. Our business is small and newly formed so we must take on whatever calls at our door.”
“Zack is not too proud to know where he stands,” said James. “As any of us here knows, from little acorns mighty oaks shall grow.”
“Well said,” agreed Lloyd. “Only the natural shall prosper.”
“With a little help from the elements,” joked James.
“No, sir,” Wenders growled in disagreement. “Only the fittest survive and that by dint of the sternest effort.”
Zack was glad of the support from James as he was beginning to feel somewhat under pressure with all the questions and the attention focused on him alone.
“What about food, Van Olen?” interrupted Crowthorne, having already demolished three glasses of wine during the questioning. “Damn! But this country air gives me an appetite.”
James glanced to one side and Zack saw that Mary waited in the shadowed doorway, she nodded at his signal and soon four Mexican waiters dressed in maroon dark suits entered bringing silver tureens of soup.
Crowthorne watched the waiter supply his bowl with a critical eye, “Come on, boy. Fill it up; this is not one of your scruffy dago village hoedowns. There’s a hungry white man here.”
The nervous servant’s hand trembled; he tipped the ladle and a splash of the soup dripped on the white tablecloth.
“Damn me!” cried Crowthorne angrily. “Van Olen, can’t you get some decent service instead of these blasted wetbacks? Look what the fool’s done.”
Mary moved swiftly forward from the shadows and ushered the servant away, quickly she draped a napkin across the offending stain and whispered to the banker, “Permit me, Mister Crowthorne to fetch you a fresh dish.”
“Should hope so,” mumbled a slightly mollified Crowthorne. “You’re a pretty little thing,” he said more quietly, studying Mary closely. “How came you here? Are you part of the furniture or a special service?” He asked the question with a leering glance at her and his hand strayed over Mary’s dress and down her thigh.
“I am the housekeeper, sir and I’d be obliged if you’d keep your hands on the dinner table and not inside my skirts.” She whispered the words in Crowthorne’s ear but just loud enough for those nearby to hear and Zack glowered at the man.
Crowthorne smirked, his teeth showing through his beard. “I do like a woman with spirit.”
Zack lent across and spoke close to the chubby banker’s face. “Best behave yourself or I shall be forced to make you do so,” he whispered intently.
Crowthorne backed away, a look of surprise and caution in his eyes. “And who do you dare to speak to me in such a manner, you young dog?” he growled, his anger fired by the drink.
“Someone who shall kick your backside down the hall, if you are not careful.” Zack realized he was overstepping the mark and knew his unreasonable attitude was motivated more by concern for Mary’s welfare than any real distress over the old drunk’s lewd behavior.
“Now, now,” placated James. “Enough you two. I fear you have roused the lion in my friend, Elias. He was always one to rise to a lady’s defense just as he does the malefactors in his court. But be warned, do not tease him too strongly for I have seen him pin down an enemy with his own bayonet. A killer lurks in that gentle fellow you see there.”
Crowthorne harrumphed, “Was just a passing fancy, is all. Not need for rough words….”
They returned to their meal in silence and when finished the dishes were cleared and a whole roast suckling pig brought in on a great dish. As it was laid on the serving side table, there was a commotion at the door as three men struggled to enter. Zack looked up and was shocked to see a bloodied Long being held between two of the Solo brothers.
“What the hell is this?” asked James, jumping to his feet.
“Found this beggar creeping around across the lake, Mister Van Olen,” said Ahab Solo, dragging Long forward by the scruff of the neck. “I believe he is up to no good. Saw him in town and thought he looked suspicious then.”
“Suspicious? How so?”
“He was following that lawyer there.”
“I weren’t following nobody,” cried Long. “What’re you fellows doing this for?” he glanced at Zack and lowered his eyelids slightly to warn him to say nothing.
“You know this man, Zack?” asked James.
Zack looked at Long and shrugged. “Where would I know such a man?” he asked innocently.
“Take him away,” said James. “Put him below, we’ll question him more closely later.” As they dragged Long away, James apologized. “I’m sorry friends, please pay it no heed. These things happen out here on the wild frontier. It's a nuisance but have no fear, our security is well taken care of.”
“I truly hope so,” piped up Lloyd.
“Enough to put a man off his feed,” grumbled Crowthorne.
“Next time we’ll meet in more civilized surroundings,” a hawk-like fellow further down the table lent forward and offered. “Can’t have ourselves compromised like this, you realize that don’t you, Van Olen?”
“Like I say, I am m
ost sorry,” James bowed his head and waved repentant hands in a pleading gesture. “Most sorry.”
“And I don’t like strangers being brought in,” the man added in a loud voice. “Friend or no, it’s a dangerous precedent. You should have asked first.”
There was rumble of agreement from the others around the table and Zack got to his feet. He had seen all he wanted to of this arrogant and cold-hearted group and was glad of an excuse to take his leave.
“I do apologize,” he said. “If I had known this was to be a private affair, I assure you I would not have intruded. I shall take my leave of you and again I trust you shall forgive me if I have offended.”
“No,” breathed James in quiet embarrassment, brushing the fallen lock of fair hair away from his eyes. He pouted and looked unsure of what to say next. “Don’t go, Zack,” he mumbled. “Really, its all right.”
“It’s best,” said Zack. “You and your friends obviously have much to discuss and it is not my wish to inhibit or invade your privacy. I shall retire to my room and we shall talk later.”
With that he lay down his napkin and strode from the room before more could be said. He was making for the stairs outside when Mary moved quickly from a shadowed doorway and caught his arm.
“A word, Zack,” she said in a hurried whisper and dragged him away from the dining room.
“What is it?” he asked when they were safely out of earshot and standing together in the hallway.
“Thank you,” she said, looking up into his eyes. “For that, in there.”
“Fellow was a drunken ass,” Zack said, shrugging it off. He could still feel the adrenalin running through his blood after his angry confrontation with Crowthorne and seeing Long’s capture. His mind was racing as he worked at deciding what to do next.
Mary laid a hand on his chest. “Oh, my,” she said. “How I have missed you. I did not know it fully until I saw you again. You were always in my heart, Zack but I did not realize what I had lost until you turned up here at the door.”
Zack’s brain was afire with a thousand thoughts and he did not stop to think further, in one motion he swept Mary up into his arms and kissed her. At first she tried to resist but it was only for a moment before she clasped him as tightly and kissed him back just as fervently.