Holy City (Jack Francis Novel)

by M Murphy

  now could ever place him back in the upper-class. His family name had fallen too far, and in a city with a long memory and love of history it would remain that way forever. There were incidents when the citizens of Charleston could forgive, but they would never forget.

  With his coffee done the man once again turned the TV down. He poured himself a fresh cup and returned to the desk. He stared at the papers he had been poring over for days and finally looked up at the sword above him. Any time he began to lose his sense of determination, the need for retribution, and felt tired with his life the sword reminded him of whom he was and why he was here. It gave his life meaning and a passion to follow. He knew very well that life was nothing without passion so he would continue with his work and his family duty. Unexpectedly, today he needed the sword to remind him once again. He was surprised that he did not feel more driven. Instead, he felt drained knowing he had a lot of work still to do.

  The man took the sword off the wall and grabbed a polishing cloth from the desk drawer. He rubbed the sword down gently, tracing its details, and the superior craftsmanship. Toward the base of the blade he was careful to work around the name carved into the steel. Expertly scrolled with a master’s touch was the name of the man’s great-great grandfather, Edward Tidwell.

  Chapter 4

  George Trenholm excused himself, and Bryce and I made our way to back to the porch of my carriage house. I still hadn’t had my morning coffee so I put on a pot and started frying some eggs, as Bryce sat down at the kitchen table. He was quiet and eyes seemed to stare off to nowhere. Yesterday was one of the most joyous of his young life, and today was a striking opposite. Sarah and he had planned to leave tomorrow for their honeymoon, but now I was getting the feeling those plans were going to be put on hold.

  “Are you all right?” I asked, setting breakfast and coffee down in front of him.

  “I’ll be fine. I’m just in shock still I guess.”

  “You want to talk about him? Sometimes it helps.”

  “Yes, but not yet. I’ll fill you in on Jason later.”

  “I didn’t mean for my work. I simply wanted to talk. It might help with how you’re feeling.”

  “Oh, no I’m okay for now. Like I said, still in shock.”

  I watched as Bryce fumbled with his eggs for a moment before getting up and reaching in the fridge for some hot sauce. The South was already having a positive effect on the young man. He swallowed down his meal in silence and I did the same. The effects of last night’s reception were wearing off and I was beginning to feel a little closer to my normal self.

  “I’m going to go.” Bryce said getting up and putting his plate in the sink. “I need to find Sarah. I’m sure she’s a wreck with all this.”

  “It makes sense. It looks like I’ll be in town for a while, so if you need me I’ll be here.”

  “Thanks. If you want to get started on your work for Mr. Trenholm, you might want to start with Dr. Welsh over at the college.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Dr. Welsh was Jason’s graduate advisor. They have been spending a lot of time together doing some kind of research. I’m not sure what exactly. I’ve been a little distant from Jason these last couple months with Sarah and all the wedding planning. I guess I’m starting to regret it now.”

  “Don’t.” I interjected. The last thing I wanted was the kid to get down on himself.

  “Well, anyways he was spending all his free time working on something.” Bryce went for the door.

  “Thanks for the help, and don’t forget I’m here if you need me.

  “You always are. Dinner tonight?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it.”

  “Great, I’ll call you later.”

  I watched as Bryce headed down the drive towards Church Street with his head down, unaware of the world around him. For me, it was time to get ready to go to work, something I hadn’t done in months, and part of me was actually looking forward to. Too bad it was under the worst of circumstances.

  Chapter 5

  The campus of the College of Charleston was small and as beautiful as the city it was in. A vast canopy of ancient oaks covered me as I crossed the Cistern Yard to the administration building. Once it was made known that I was working for Mr. Trenholm, I was whisked by golf cart over to Dr. Welsh’s office. Apparently the Doctor was a professor of Southern History at Columbia and had come down to Charleston to do research for her next book. The College of Charleston was happy to have the notable Columbia scholar, who was also using the opportunity to teach a few classes on campus.

  I was shocked when I knocked on the Professor’s office door to hear a woman’s voice beckon me in. Apparently I am a sexist who was unable to conceive that a notable Columbia professor, with a doctorate in Southern History, could be a woman. I am glad I was mistaken.

  Dr. Welsh was roughly my height, with straight brown hair and the most beautiful cheek bones. She was dressed in a skirt that was cut below her knees and wore a billowy top very well. There was a pair of glasses resting on her head and to my surprise appeared way too young to be a professor.

  “What can I do for you?” She asked moving around the desk to shake my hand.

  “Dr. Welsh, I am Jack Francis.” I said shaking back. “I am here working for George Trenholm, Jason’s father.”

  “Oh, certainly. Sit. What can I do for you and Mr. Trenholm?” She asked moving back behind her desk and taking a seat herself.

  “By your tone I am going to have to assume you are not in touch with the local gossip today?”

  “Not at all. I got to the office early today. I like to start off Mondays early so I can leave early when Friday comes.”

  “Then you haven’t heard?”

  “Heard what?”

  I didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news to a woman I just met, but it looked like I had no choice. “Jason Trenholm is dead.” There was no easy way to say it.

  “What? How can it be?”

  “He was apparently murdered last night walking home from a wedding reception.”

  “Bryce’s?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He had been talking about it for a while now. Jason was really excited for Bryce and Sarah. Actually, that was all he was talking about on Friday while we were working.”

  “Dr. Welsh, if it is not too much trouble can I ask you a few questions about Jason? Mr. Trenholm has asked me to look further into the matter for him.”

  “How did that come about?”

  “Bryce is my cousin, and he knew I was formerly with the FBI, so he recommended my services to Mr. Trenholm. If you don’t want to talk now, I will understand.”

  “No, its fine. Some people close up when they are upset. Me, I’m more of a talker. What do you want to know?”

  “Honestly, I’m not sure exactly. Normal information, like what were the two of you working on? Did any of his routines change recently? Any new acquaintances? Stuff like that.”

  “As far as Jason’s routines, nothing appeared to change. And I don’t see him outside of our research work so I can’t really answer about his acquaintances. You see, I didn’t get to know Jason socially.”

  “Okay, Dr. Welsh, what about your work together?”

  “Please call me Hannah. I came down to work on a book about the role of Charleston’s businessmen in the black market during the Civil War. The college allowed me an office and access to their resources in exchange for my services as a guest lecturer. When I was interviewing graduate assistants Jason’s name stood out because of Fraser, Trenholm, & Company, a major player here and in Europe during the War Between the States. They were major financiers for the Confederacy, as well as owning a large amount of the South’s blockade runners. Jason’s name, and the fact that his grades and references were superb, were all I needed to bring him on to the project.”

  “If I might ask, what exactly where the two of you researching?”

  “Records from local companies, family documents, land deeds, a
nd other historical evidence we could find. The idea was

  to paint a picture of the scope of the black market here and in the rest of the South, as well as understand how much money was being made by the men who ran the trade.”

  “I know this is an old town with a lot of old families. I met a lot of them at the wedding. Could your research be upsetting to any of the old money here in town?

  “I’m sure it could be, but I felt the Trenholms were in a position to be the most upset, and I assumed we had their blessing since Jason was on the project.”

  “Why would the Trenholms be the most upset?”

  Hannah looked at me like I was an idiot and maybe I was. “The Trenholms were in control of Fraser, Trenholm & Company during the war, which made them a fortune from the trade their blockade runners brought in and took out of Charleston Harbor. It was also rumored they paid off members of the Union government so they could keep their wealth and property after the war, even though Jason’s great-great-great-grandfather was Secretary of the Treasury for the Confederacy.”

  I was beginning to see the issues Hannah and Jason’s research could dig up here in Charleston. I couldn’t believe it was enough motivation for murder, but then again less-trivial issues had been motive enough in the past, and these Southerners were still sensitive about the war.

  Chapter 6

  I left Hannah’s office with a lot more questions than answers, and as I moved down the bustling King Street shopping district. I knew I had to look further into the Trenholm family’s past. King Street was packed full of designer stores, local eateries, and tourists who were looking everywhere but where they were going. It seemed like every five feet I had to dodge someone with their head turned in the wrong direction. Eventually, my odds were going to turn against me, so I wasn’t surprised when a man struck me right in the shoulder as he passed by.

  “Hey!” I yelled out when he struck me. I am not a Southerner nor do I pretend to be, so I wasn’t going to apologize because somebody else wasn’t watching where they were going. The man kept walking right past me, only turning his head slightly back and giving me a glimpse at his venomous smile. He was definitely no tourist.

  I moved on down the street finally cutting across Queen and over to Church Street where the crowds were gone and I had the sidewalk to myself. The man who bumped into me had left a lasting image with the way he looked back, almost as if he knew me and certainly like he ran into me on purpose. It was something

  I did not want to be focusing on right at the moment, knowing I had bigger things to worry about.

  Mrs. Legare was sitting on her first floor piazza with a large pitcher of tea when I made my way to the driveway. “Why don’t you join me?” She said waving me up.

  “I would love to. Do you mind if we talk a little bit

  about a few things?”

  “I do love to talk, but mind your manners.”

  I understood what she meant. She was warning me not to be too pushy with the conversation. The Southern way of conversation was far different from what I had been raised with. Up North, we are more direct and straight to the point, but in Charleston that kind of behavior would make you an outcast.

  “How has your day been?” I asked as I sat down.

  “Oh, quite lovely all things considered. You look parched may I?” She asked hinting at the pitcher on the table beside her.

  “I think I will.”

  As she poured, I could smell the fresh mint she had placed in the glass and prepared my pallet for the sweetness of the tea. When she handed my glass, to my surprise, it smelled more like bourbon than tea. I took a small sip and then smiled at the woman.

  “Aren’t mint juleps such a lovely drink?”

  “And they look like iced tea from a distance.”

  “Don’t I know that?” She smiled at me with a mischievous grin. “Now what have you been up to today?”

  “I walked up to the college to talk to the professor, a Dr. Welsh.”

  “I’m not sure if I recognize the name, must not be local.”

  “No, in fact, she is down from Columbia University to do some research. Bryce had told me that Jason had been working with her, as her graduate assistant.”

  “Really, whatever were they working on?”

  “A little Charleston history.”

  “Well, there is nothing I like more than Charleston history. In fact, I like to consider myself a resident scholar on the subject. You know my family has been around this city since the beginning.”

  From my short time in Charleston, I have learned a couple things. No one is shy to tell you how long their family has been in the city, and no one loves their own history more than Charlestonians.

  “That’s good to know, because you may be able to help me to better understand what Jason and Dr. Welsh were working on.”

  “Oh, this sounds fun. What do you need to know? I am sure I’ll know all about it.”

  “Apparently Dr. Welsh and Jason were working on a little Trenholm family history. What do you know about Jason’s ancestors, especially the ones during the Civil War?”

  Chapter 7

  “The Trenholm family has a very interesting history, one long up for debate.” Mrs. Legare started. She paused to top off my drink, as if to say settle in for my tale. “The story you are probably looking to hear begins with George Alfred Trenholm, who I believe would have been Jason’s great-great grandfather or something close. Anyway, George left school at a young age, after his father passed away, to work at Fraser & Company, a cotton broker here in town. Before long George rose through the ranks and became head of the company, eventually attaching his own name to the moniker. Some people here in town believed he forced the Frasers out of their own company, but the reality of it was he expanded the business from cotton to slaves, plantations, steamships, hotels, and banking.”

  “So that’s how the family got their fortune?”

  “The first time.”

  “What do you mean the first time?” I asked.

  “When the War for Southern Independence broke out Fraser, Trenholm & Company became the overseas bankers for the Confederacy, which gave them direct access to the government in Richmond and international markets. They

  financed armaments through the trade of their own cotton, tobacco, and turpentine. The company also financed blockade running, the construction of Confederate warships in England, and they became the unofficial ambassadors for the Confederacy in Europe. By the end of the war the Confederate Government was heavily indebted to Fraser, Trenholm, & Company.”

  “Let me get this straight. The Trenholm family sacrificed their own wealth and that of their company for the Southern cause.”

  Mrs. Legare laughed. “No such thing ever occurred. The Trenholms made another fortune off of the war, through trade and blockade running. George Trenholm would never have done anything unless there were a profit in it.”

  “Well then that’s how they made their second fortune.”

  “No, the money the Trenholms took in during the war was simply added on top of what they already had. In order to make a second fortune you would have to lose the first.”

  I was beginning to believe the woman was enjoying telling this story more than I was listening to it. “Let me guess the loss of one fortune and the acquirement of the second is the real story?”

  “I’m not sure if it’s a real story, but it is definitely a good one. You see this is where the Trenholm family history is up for debate by us Charlestonians. You see towards the end of the war George went to Richmond to become Secretary of the Confederate Treasury, a good position for him considering his personal success. However, most people were upset because it put all of the Confederate finances in the hands of one family. The gold and silver in the Treasury, the debts they owed, and all the tax collecting were now in the hands of the Trenholms, who already represented Confederate banking in Europe.”

  “A pretty powerful place to be in, except you said the war was almost over, was
n’t the Confederacy broke?”

  “To continue a full-scale war, yes they were broke, but that doesn’t mean the Treasury was empty. In fact, the truth was the exact opposite, and most people knew it. The Confederate Government had been selling cotton to Mexico in order to build up treasury funds. It was rumored that the banks in Richmond held a considerable amount for the government to access.”

  “I’m beginning to see the problem with George Trenholm as treasurer. The Confederacy owed his company a substantial amount and now he held the debt and the way to pay it off. The man could allocate the funds to pay off what was owed to him and ignore the Confederacy’s other needs.”