Shooting For Justice

by G. Wayne Tilman

  “I admit, John, neither Ben nor I had previously given much thought to the presidency or the perils which come with it. I realize, particularly as the son of Abraham Lincoln, it’s pretty naïve of me. Try to keep him safe. I have a lead on a townhouse about five blocks from here.

  “Please consider moving into it for the duration. It’s a few blocks more walking from the President’s House but gives the two of you a more established Washingtonian look. It actually will not cost as much as the Willard, is fully furnished and will allow you both to have a more normal life. I can have it billed directly here. Would you like to see it?”

  “No, sir. If you think it would be best, we will move right away.”

  “Oh! And it comes with a live-in housekeeper. Her presence will allow us to install a telephone so you can be reached or called out in an emergency.”

  “Sounds good, sir. Perhaps I could take Sarah over today. Would you send the housekeeper a message introducing us?” Pope asked.

  “It will be on the way before you make it back to the Willard.” Lincoln wrote down the address and handed the slip of paper to Pope as he was leaving.

  He walked back to the Willard, happy with the turn of events. As nice as it was, it was still a hotel room with no way to cook. It did not have the space to stretch out. It was a room, not a home.

  The two of them walked back to F Street NW and found the address. It was a well-kept brick townhouse with dark green shutters. They met May, the middle-aged housekeeper at the door. She showed them the parlor, dining room, master and second bedrooms and pointed up some narrow, steep steps. “I live at the top of the steps,” May said.

  “I clean and cook. I can do hors oeuvres if you do a party or reception.”

  “This is beautiful, May. I am sure we will be at home here!” Sarah told her.

  “We may be installing a telephone, so there are times you may have to take messages,” Pope told her.

  “A telephone! How exciting. I have a good handwriting. I never even saw a telephone. Who might call us?” she asked.

  “The President’s House, attorney general, or secretary of war primarily.”

  “The president?” she asked excitedly.

  “No, the security office there. I head it up,” Pope told her. “If they call, especially in the middle of the night, there is a real problem. We will try to keep you aware of where both of us are during the day, in case either gets a call you can advise people.”

  “There’s a backyard and two-horse stable through the kitchen door as well as a privy. The bathroom is just beyond. It’s brick to prevent fires from the wood heater for the tub. If you want a bath, just let me know ahead and I’ll fire up the water heater. It takes maybe half an hour for real hot water in the tub.”

  “Thanks, May. We will move in late today. We only have clothes here. I am new to my job with the war office,” Pope said.

  They went back and packed. The concierge summoned a hansom cab, and they were moved in within an hour. The following day, Pope contacted Sgt. Wilders at the Arsenal and asked for a small key lock gun safe for the house. He would return it when the case was over.

  Nothing of note had occurred at the President’s House.

  Pope gave some thought of buying a horse to keep in the stable behind the house and decided against it for now. They did not know, day to day, how long they would be in Washington.

  Sarah met with May and found out how the household worked, grocery shopping, and cleaning. She accompanied May on an initial trip to the grocery and butcher and they bought a week’s worth of groceries. Once a representative budget was established, she would create a cash jar for May to draw upon.

  The house, though small, was lovely, as were the furnishings and wall hangings. She found it belonged to a senior Army officer stationed overseas at an embassy and had been rented far longer than occupied by the owner.

  The house and its furnishings were what a poor Illinois girl had dreamed about. It gave her ideas about what she and Pope should own once they finally settled down.

  Pope checked in at the war office and had no messages. Lincoln was on a trip. Pope walked over to the President’s House security room. Sgt. Wilders had assigned a corporal for each shift there, a man with more experience than the troopers on patrol. Pope was pleased with the decision.

  Pope checked out one of the police whistles to carry on patrol. He spoke with the new corporal on duty then caught up with the Army and Washington Police patrol and walked with them.

  Pope decided he would try to join at least one patrol a day on days he was in Washington.

  With the warm weather, more crowds were out and the home at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave NW was busier than ever.

  He worried about the case reaching a point where nothing arose regarding the listed suspects and no new ones surfaced. He felt like his boss James Hume at Wells Fargo and his friend, private detective Harry Morse felt about Black Bart. They had chased the elusive stage robber for almost a decade and were no closer to arresting him now than in the mid-1870’s.

  Pope was continually nagged by the possibility the threat against either the president’s life or his presidency would come from some unknown and impossible to identify person or group. One whose inclusion in his and Sarah’s investigation would only happen when they struck.

  1883 Washington was hot and humid in July. The city and its Potomac River smelled due to insufficient sewage handling. It had outgrown itself and many government officials left for the mountains, or just for home.

  Later in an uneventful week, Sarah did come up with some interesting material. It had nothing to do with the case.

  She found Rita Kane was really Ogarita Booth Kane. She was the only daughter of Lincoln assassin John Wilkes Booth. Information was available about her because she had some renown as an actress.

  “So, even without her tell-tale name, her photos in the newspapers are how you recognized her,” she told Pope.

  “Yes, she could certainly be an actress. She is pretty enough. Yet, in person, she is down to earth and interested in things other than herself. It’s odd for an actor or actress to care about others, I would think.

  “The other question is more interesting. How did Kane meet and marry Booth’s daughter? Something related to the Knights of the Golden Circle?”

  “I am convinced, John, we will never know. If the Circle is as secretive as you say, I believe how he met her will never be divulged.”

  “Probably so,” he acknowledged.

  Lincoln and Brewster met with Pope the following week.

  “There is little Ben and I can do to help you and Sarah eliminate suspects. The only area we have been able to identify is the military. We talked about this and have a plan regarding any threats coming from the Navy. We decided to come right out and ask them. Tomorrow, John, the three of us will meet with the secretary of the Navy and whatever senior staff he wishes to bring to a meeting down the street at the Navy office.”

  The three walked to the building next to Lincoln’s the next morning.

  Secretary of the Navy William Chandler was there along with several admirals and captains.

  “Secretary Lincoln, I thought you and your associate might be here to campaign to wheedle us out of some of the funds President Arthur has designated to grow the Navy. But I fear the presence of the attorney general adds a more somber note,” Chandler said.

  “No, funding is not our interest today. We are here to talk about the protection of America and her government. You know Attorney General Brewster. The other man with me is Provost Marshal John Pope. He has been tasked with protecting the president and his dwelling. His background, which is quite illustrious, is investigations.

  “Allow us to jump right into the topic at hand,” Lincoln said. “Ben?”

  “Have any of you heard whisperings from any corner about harming or toppling the president? If you have, I believe it is imperative for us to talk,” the attorney general said.

  There was silence in the
room for a moment. Secretary Chandler was the first to regain his composure.

  “Who is behind this, Ben?”

  “We do not know. Provost Marshal Pope is investigating it. We have also had him harden the President’s House and implement stronger protection for the president when he is outside of it. A very senior member of government overheard a conversation between at least two intelligent, well-spoken men on a train northbound out of New York City. By the time he heard words setting off an alarm to him, the train was stopping at Scarsdale and the men slipped off before he could identify them. The nature of their conversation and ensuing argument, which is what got his attention, was about either killing or causing President Arthur’s presidency to fall. Arthur is unaware of anything beyond the additional security. He condones those efforts.

  “I might add, gentlemen, this whole meeting is conducted at the most secret level. This cannot be discussed with anyone outside this room. If you choose to discuss it among yourselves, it should be in a place and manner where you will not be overheard.”

  “Without offense to the provost marshal, isn’t this a job for a treasury agent?” an admiral asked. The attorney general responded.

  “Admiral Belton, you would normally be correct. However, the secretary of war and I felt, since we did not know whether this threat extended within the government, it would be prudent to use a proven investigator from outside. I invite you to research John Pope of Wells Fargo in the newspapers. Especially the Western state ones. I am sure you will agree he is an excellent choice.

  “Pope has identified a number of people or organizations with cause to not like Arthur. Midway down the list is the people whose funding will be diminished by the shift of monies to the Navy budget.”

  “Are Navy officers suspects?” the secretary of the Navy asked.

  “No, sir. Except to the extent naval officers may control shipyards which might lose out due to shifting to steel hulled vessels. Quite frankly, knowing little about shipbuilding, I would think it is not Navy personnel on fixed salaries who we should worry about, but specialists, people who supply civilian workers and suppliers. Do you agree?” Pope asked.

  “I believe it is safe to speak for everyone and say we agree with you, Provost Marshal Pope,” Secretary Chandler said.

  “Do you have a man who is knowledgeable in the ship building process to assign to work with Pope on this phase of the investigation?” Lincoln asked.

  Chandler turned to a captain.

  “Captain Foster, I’d like you to coordinate with Pope,” he said. Foster nodded.

  “Thank you. Now, has anyone one of you heard anything, no matter how obscure, which might aid Pope’s investigation? Hints, rumors, anything against the president?” Pope asked.

  One of the admirals spoke. Pope later found he was in charge of naval shipbuilding.

  “Sailors gripe. It’s their nature, especially during long periods at sea. I suspect soldiers do also.

  “There have been universal gripes over going to steel vessels ever since the president announced it. I might add, he did so with the full concurrence of the men in this room.

  “The nature of their talk has mainly been ‘wood floats, steel sinks’. While the phrase is true, it’s irrelevant because of the design of a modern ship with its sealed off bulkheads and inherent flotation. They worry since wood flexes more than steel, a steel ship will break apart in rough seas. Flex can be built into any design. These men largely do maintenance; they are not nautical architects. Lastly, most people are resistant to change. Wooden ships to steel ships is about as large a change as we could make. I daresay they will change their minds once another ship’s fire bounces off the new hulls instead of penetrating like it would with a wooden hull.

  “The men who complain about this, the cooking, the style of their uniforms don’t have the capability to pull off a coup or an organized assassination attempt,” he said.

  Pope looked around the room and read concurrence on the faces of all the naval officers.

  “Thank you, Mr. Secretary and officers. You have satisfied this part of the investigation, at least until Captain Foster and Pope conclude whatever probes they make. We will leave you to running the Navy,” the attorney general said. All rose and Foster waited for Pope to approach.

  “I have some ideas of actions for us,” he told Pope. Pope nodded and held up a finger signifying to wait.

  “Secretary Lincoln and General Brewster, I would like to stay and meet with Captain Foster. There’s no need for you to wait.”

  They left and the room was cleared except for Pope, Foster and the admiral who spoke at length.

  “Provost Pope, this is my boss, Admiral Hemingway. He is in charge of the construction and maintenance of every aspect of the fleet,” Foster said.

  “Foster has a major project coming up. How long do you think you might need him?” the admiral asked.

  “I doubt more than a few days. We can start right away.”

  “Excellent. This is important. Very important. But I have a full agenda planned for him.” The admiral left the two.

  “Let’s go to my office and meet behind closed doors,” Foster suggested.

  They walked down the hall and Foster beckoned him into an office. They sat and Pope took out his notebook and a pencil.

  “If we took a day trip to New York, we might be able to kill all our birds with one trip,” Foster said.

  “Please go on.”

  “I suggest we take a train to New York or hitch a ride on a naval vessel out of Baltimore or even here if one’s available. We can visit the Brooklyn Navy Yard, where we can see the impact of the wood to steel changeover, get a list of types and number of civilians, who is affected, and who the suppliers are, both old and new. If you want, I can send a telegram today and we can begin tomorrow.”

  “It’s a good comprehensive approach, Captain. Let’s do it. They are installing a telephone in my house today. If you will give me a number for the Navy building, I will call you later and give you my number to confirm time of departure and where exactly,” Pope said.

  “Do we have a telephone?” Pope asked as soon as he arrived at home.

  “We have one and both May and I have been instructed with the use. I have gotten a small notebook and attached a pencil to put numbers in. It will take me less than three minutes to teach you how to use it, John,” Sarah said.

  “Good. I have to call the Navy building and secure some information about a trip to New York tomorrow. I am not sure if it will be by train or ship.”

  “Ship? Isn’t a train cheaper and faster?” she asked.

  “No doubt. But it will be a Navy ship, so it will be fun and free.”

  She instructed Pope in the operation of the telephone. Several hours later, he made his first call. It was to the Navy building. He asked for Captain Foster.

  “May I ask who is calling?” the man at the other end asked.

  “Provost Marshal Pope.”

  “Captain Foster is in a meeting with several admirals, sir. He left me a message for you. You will travel to New York on a Navy ship. It will depart from Washington Navy Yard at noon tomorrow. Look for the USS Miantonomoh BM-5. It is a 263-foot ocean- going monitor attack ship.” He spelled out the hard to pronounce name slowly.

  Pope wrote this in the notebook and tore the page off. He was excited. He knew this would be a fast ship and interesting ride to Brooklyn Navy Yard.

  “Do you know how long it takes to get from the Navy building where you are to the Washington Navy Yard by cab?” he asked.

  “Stand by for a minute, sir. I will ask.” The man returned momentarily and advised to allow for thirty minutes to get to the Navy Yard and find the ship. It was one of only three docked at the yard, so would not be difficult to find.

  “I wish I could go!” Sarah said, looking over his shoulder as he wrote.

  “I wish you could, also,” Pope said, “but it would be too hard to explain. These people don’t know you are also a detective. We
probably ought to keep them in the dark.”

  He left in plenty of time at ten o’clock the next morning. Just in case, he carried a small satchel with toiletries, a clean shirt and the Bowie knife.

  Pope walked around the dock area and found the ship. Compared to wooden sailing ships, it looked modern and fast. He asked for Captain Foster. Foster appeared moments later and welcomed him aboard. He introduced Pope to the ship’s captain.

  “This monitor is a fast, ocean going attack and escort ship. It has a top speed of over ten knots. It’s two hundred sixty-three feet long and draws fourteen and a half feet. The ship has a single steam engine turning two screws. It is the newest ship in the Navy at this time.

  “Once underway, it will take us twenty-four hours Navy Yard to Navy Yard. We have small officer quarter staterooms reserved for you and Captain Foster. Meals, which are quite good, will be called by bells. I am sure Captain Foster will tap on your hatch at the appropriate time to eat.”

  “Thank you, Captain. My only other experience has been on a ferry across San Francisco Bay. I look forward to this and am honored to ride on the newest and fastest ship in the Navy,” Pope said.

  Pope and Foster watched as the last of the coal was run down the chute into the ship’s coal bunker. As coal was consumed to build steam power during a trip, it had to be moved closer to the boiler in case a burst of power to catch or evade another ship or render aid to a vessel in distress was required.

  “Does the ship have small arms in addition to the eight big guns I see?” Pope asked Foster.

  “Yes, there is a small arms locker below with rifles, revolvers, cutlasses and knives. The ship was built in 1876, but just commissioned last year. It will do coastal patrol initially. The patrol will include boarding other ships at sea. It would move in and launch the small steam launch you see on the port, or left deck. An officer and enlisted boarding team, fully armed, will board a vessel to inspect and maybe make arrests.”