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Version_1

Contents

AlsobyCliveCusslerSchematicTitlePageCopyright

PROLOGUE

BOOKONE|BULLETS

Chapter1Chapter2Chapter3Chapter4Chapter5Chapter6Chapter7Chapter8

BOOKTWO|POISONChapter9Chapter10Chapter11Chapter12

Chapter13Chapter14Chapter15Chapter16Chapter17Chapter18

BOOKTHREE|GASChapter19Chapter20Chapter21Chapter22Chapter23Chapter24

Chapter25Chapter26Chapter27Chapter28Chapter29Chapter30Chapter31Chapter32Chapter33Chapter34Chapter35Chapter36Chapter37Chapter38

Chapter39Chapter40

BOOKFOUR|THUNDERBOLT

Chapter41Chapter42Chapter43Chapter44Chapter45

EPILOGUE

PROLOGUE

1899PENNSYLVANIA

“DoIhearatrain?”askedSpikeHopewell.

“Twotrains,”saidBillMatters.Theheavy,wetHuff!ofthePennsylvaniaRailroad’s2-8-0freight

locomotivescarriedformilesinthestillnightair.“They’reonthemainline,nothere.”

Spikewasnervous.Itmadehimtalkative.“YouknowwhatIkeepthinking?JohnD.Rockefellerlockeduptheoilbusinessbeforemostpeoplewereborn.”

“TohellwithRockefeller.TohellwithStandardOil.”

BillMattershadfoundtheirAchilles’heel.Afterthirtyyearsfightingthe

“Standard,”thirtyyearsofgettingdrivenintothemud,hewasfinallygoingtobreaktheirpipelinemonopoly.

Tonight.Underaskywhitewithstars,inalow-lyinghayfieldinthefoothillsoftheAlleghenyMountains.Woodedslopesringedthefield.PennsylvaniaRailroadtrackscrossedit,bridgingthedipinthehillsonatalltimbertrestle.

SpikeHopewellwas

goingalongwiththescheme,againsthisbetterjudgment.Billhadalwaysbeensusceptibletoragingbrainstormsthatvergedondelirium,andtheyweregettingworse.Besides,whenitcametodrivingindependentsoutofbusiness,JohnD.Rockefellerhadpersonallyinventedeverytrickinthebook.

“Now!”BilldrewhisbigoldRemingtonsix-cylinder

andfiredashotintheair.Whipscracked.Mules

heavedintheirharness.Freightwagonsfullofmenandmaterialrumbledacrossthefieldandunderthetraintrestle—aframeworkofbracedtimbersthatcarriedtheelevatedtracksabovethelowground.

PipelinesthatMattersandHopewellhadalreadylaidstoppedjustinsidethewoodsateitheredgeofthefield.The

westtrunkstretchedtwohundredmilesovertheAlleghenyMountainstoPennsylvania’soilfields.TheeastcontinuedonehundredeightymilestotheirseaboardrefineryinConstableHook,NewJersey,whereoceangoingtanksteamerscouldloadtheirkerosene.Pumpsandbreakouttankswereinstalledeverythirtymiles,andallthatremainedtojointhetwohalveswas

thisfinalconnectiononlandtheyhadpurchased,undertherailroad.

Spikewouldnotshutup.“YouknowwhatthepresidentofthePenneysaid?Hesaid,‘ImaginetheexpenseIwouldsaveonlocomotives,Pullmancars,andcomplaintsifonlyIcouldmeltmypassengersandpumpthemliquefiedthroughpipeslikeyoupumpoil.’”

“Iwasthere,”said

Matters.InPhiladelphia,atPennsylvaniaRailroadheadquartershighabovetheBroadStreetStation,asking,hatinhand,toleasearight-of-way.Thepresident,high-tonedownerofaMainLineestate,hadlookeddownhisParis-educatednoseattheoilfieldrowdies.

“Ienvyyougentlemen.Iwouldlovetoownapipeline.”

Whowouldn’t?Justask

Rockefeller.Shippingcrudedirectfromthewelltotherefinerybeatatrainhandsdown.Insteadoflaboriouslyloadingandunloadingbarrels,barges,andtankcars,yousimplyopenedavalve.Andthatwasjustthebeginning.Apipelinewasalsoastorehouse;youcouldstockpilecrudeinyourpipesandtanksuntilsupplydroppedandthepricerose.Youcouldlendmoneylikea

bankandchargeinterestoncreditbackedbythesameoilinyourpipesthattheproducerwaspayingyoutodeliver.Bestofall—orworstofall,dependingonyourmorals—whenyouownedapipeline,yousettheshippingratetofavoryourfriendsandgougeyourenemies.Youcouldevenrefusetodeliveratanyprice,aRockefellerspecialtytobustindependentrefineries;Mattersand

Hopewell’sConstableHookrefinerywassittingidle,dryasabone,becausetheStandarddeclinedtopipethemcrude.

Spikelaughed.“RememberwhatItoldhim?‘We’llmeltyourpassengersinourrefinery,butit’syourjobtomake’emsolidagain.’”

ThepresidentoftherailroadhadgrantedSpike’sjokeathinsmileandtheir

leaseadeathblow:“Youcan’tpaymeenoughtoletyourpipecrossmytracks.”

“Whynot?”“Ordersstraightfromthe

EleventhFloor.”Intheyear1899,there

wasonlyone“EleventhFloor”intheUnitedStatesofAmerica—Rockefeller’sofficeatStandardOil’sNumber26BroadwayheadquartersinNewYork—anditpackedmorepunch

thantheWhiteHouseandCongresscombined.

Tonight,BillMatterswaspunchingback.

Sixtymenpiledoutofthewagonswithpicksandshovelsandtongsandpipejacks.Workingbystarlight,theydugashallowtrenchacrossthefieldandunderthetrestle.Tonghandswrestledthirty-foot-longeight-inchsteelpipesoffthewagons,proppedthemonjacksover

thetrench,andscrewedthelengthstogether.

Thedistanttrainsoundstheyhadheardearliersuddenlygrewloud.

Matterssawaglowinthetreesandrealized,toolate,hehadmisjudgedtheirdistance.Theywereindeedonthisbranchline,notfaraway,butsteamingslowly,quietly,onefromthenorth,onefromthesouth.

Ditchdiggersandtong

menlookedup.Headlampsblazed.The

monsterH6Baldwin2-8-0locomotivesburstfromthewoodedhillsandrumbledontothetrestles.

“Keepworking!”shoutedBillMatters.“Weownthisland.Wegoteveryright!Keepworking.”

Theninety-tonenginesthunderedoverheadandstoppedonthetrestle,nosetonose,cowcatcherstouching,

directlyaboveMattersandHopewell’sjust-laidpipe.Onewashaulingaflatcarcrammedwithrailroadcops,theotherawrecktrainwithahundred-toncrane.Therailroadcopsshovedthelocomotivefiremenfromtheirfurnaces,threwopenthefiredoors,andsnakedhosesfromthelocomotiveboilers.

Agiantmountedthefrontofthewrecktrain.Theglaringheadlampslitahard,

hot-temperedfaceandamammothchestandbelly.MattersrecognizedBigPeteStraub,atoweringStandardOilstrikebreaker,withacompanycopstarpinnedtohisvest,agunonhiship,andapickhandleinhisfist.

“Dropyourtools!”Straubshouteddownatthemeninthefield.

“Standyourground!”yelledMatters.“Backtowork.”

“Run!”roaredStraub.“Law’sonourside.We

goteveryright!”“Let’emhaveit,boys!”Therailroadcopsscooped

burningcoalsfromthefurnacesandwhirledopenedsteamvalves.FireandboilingwaterraineddownonMatters’workmen.

“Standyourground!”Burnedandscalded,they

fled.Mattersinterceptedthe

stampedeandwadedinwithbothfists,knockingmendownastheytriedtogetaway.

Spikegrabbedhisarm.“Easeoff,Bill.Let’emgo.They’reoutgunned.”

Matterssmashedaditchdigger’sribsandknockedanothermancoldwithasingleblow.“Cowards!”

Aburningcoalsaileddownfromthestarrysky

trailingsparks.ItsetMatters’coatsleeve

onfire.Hotcoalsfannedhischeek.Thestinkofsingedhairsearedhisnostrils.HejerkedhisRemingtonfromhiscoat,ranstraightatthetrestle,andclimbedthepier.

Spikechargedbackintothebattlezoneandgrabbedhisboot.“Areyounuts?Whereyougoing?”

“KillStraub.”“He’sgottwentyyearson

youandfiftyarmedmen.Run!”

SpikeHopewelloutweighedBillMatters.Hedraggedhimoffthetrestle.

Fireandsteamdrovethemoutofrange.BillMattersaimedhishorsepistolatStraub.Spikeknockeditoutofhishand,snatcheditfromthemud,andtuckeditinhiscoat.

Matterswatchedwithhelplessfury.Thehundred-

toncraneloweredanexcavatorbucket.ItsjuttingspiketeethbitintothefreshlydugsoillikethejawsofTyrannosaurusrex.Steamhissed.Thejawscrushedshut.Thecraneclawedpipesoutofthegroundanddroppedtheminawelterofbentandbrokenmetal.

Apairofdimlightsbouncedslowlyacrossthestarlitfield.Thecountysheriffpulledupina

Pittsburghgasolinerunabout.Ascared-lookingdeputywasseatedbesidehim.

BillMattersandSpikeHopewelldemandedprotectionfortheirworkmen.Mattersshoutedthattheyhadalegalrighttorouteanindependentpipelineundertherailroad’sright-of-waybecausetheyhadboughtthislow-lyingfarmwheretheelevatedtrackscrossedontalltrestles.

“Therailroadcan’tblockus!Weownthislandfreeandclear.”

Herewastheirdeed.Mattersshookthe

parchmentinthedimglowoftherunabout’sheadlamp.

Thesheriffglanceddownfromhissteeringtiller.Heansweredtooquickly,likeamanwhohadbeenorderedtoreadacopydaysago.“SaysonyourdeedthatthePennsylvaniaRailroadleased

theirright-of-wayacrossthisfarm.”

“Onlyfortrackandtrestles.”

“Leasesaysyoumustn’tdamagetheirroadbed.”

“We’renothurtingtheirroad.We’retrenchingbetweenthetrestlepiers.”

Mattersshovedmorepaperintothelight.Seetheirengineer’sreport!Seetheirattorney’sbriefassertingtheircase!Seethiscourtcase

precedent!“I’mnolawyer,”saidthe

sheriff,“buteverybodyknowsthatMr.RockefellerhasamightybigsayinhowtheyrunthePennsylvaniaRailroad.”

“Butweown—”Thesherifflaughed.

“WhatmadeyouthinkyoucanfightStandardOil?”

—

Acoal-blackPittsburghskymirroredBillMatters’despair.

“Businessisbusiness,”hisbankerwasdroning.Mortgagedtothehilttobuildapipelinetheycouldnotfinish,theyhadtosellforpenniesonthedollartoStandardOil.“Nooneelsewillmakeanoffer.Myadviceistoaccepttheirsandwalkawayclean.”

“Theytrickedusinto

buildingitforthem,”Matterswhispered.

“WhatabouttheHook?”askedSpike.

“ConstableHook?”askedthebanker.“Partofthepackage.”

“Itisthemostmodernrefineryintheworld,”saidMatters.

“There’snodealwithouttherefinery.IbelieveStandardOilintendstoexpandit.”

“It’smadetogrow.Weboughttheentirehillandeveryfootofwaterfront.”

“TheStandardwantsit.”“Atleastwewon’towe

much,”saidSpike.“Weplanted,”said

Matters.“They’llreap.”Thebanker’svoicetube

whistled.Heputitbyhisear.Hejumpedtohisfeet.“Mr.Comstockishere.”

Thedoorflewopen.Instrodewhite-hairedAverell

Comstock,oneofJohnD.Rockefeller’sfirstpartnersfrombackintheirClevelandrefinerydays.Comstockwasamemberofthetrust’sinnermostcircle,theprivilegedfewthatthenewspaperscalledtheStandardOilGang.

“Excuseus,”hesaidtothebanker.

Withoutaword,themanscuttledfromhisoffice.

“Mr.Rockefellerhas

askedmetoinviteyougentlementojointhecompany.”

“What?”saidSpikeHopewell.HelookedincredulouslyatMatters.

Comstocksaid,“ItisMr.Rockefeller’swishthatyoustartasco-directorsofthePipeLineCommittee.”

Mattersturnedpalewithanger.Hishandstrembled.Heclenchedthemintofistsandstilltheyshook.

“Managingthepipelinemonopolywetriedtobeat?Bankruptingwildcatterdrillers?Bustingindependentrefinersoutofbusiness?”

Thetall,vigorousComstockreturnedasteelygaze.“StandardOilwastesnothing.Wemakefulluseofeveryresource,including—especiallyincluding—smart,ambitious,hard-drivingoilmen.Areyouwithus?”

“I’djoinSatanfirst,”said

SpikeHopewell.Hejammedhishatonhis

headandbarreledoutthedoor.“Let’sgo,Bill.We’llstartfreshinKansas.Wildcatthenewfieldsbeforetheoctopuswrapsitsarmsaroundthem,too.”

—BillMatterswenthometoOilCity,Pennsylvania.

Hismodestthree-story

mansionstoodonatree-linedstreetcheekbyjowlwithsimilarstuccoedandshingledhousesbuiltbyindependentslikehimwhohadprosperedintheearly“oilfever”yearsbeforetheStandardclampeddown.Therolltopdeskheusedforanofficesharedthebackparlorwithhisdaughters’booksandtoytheaters.

ThepapermodelsofLondonandNewYorkstage

setsthatthegirlshadpreferredtodollhousesoccupiedeveryflatsurface.Renderedinbrightlycoloredminiature,JulietlovedRomeofromherbalcony.Hamletwalkedtheparapetwithhisfather’sghost.RichardIIIhandedthedeathwarranttomurderers.

NellieandEdnafoundhimtherewithtearsinhiseyes.HewascradlingtheRemingtonhehadbought

fromaCivilWarvet.The“faithfulfriend”hadwonshoot-outswithteamsterswhohadgatheredinmobsatnighttosmashhisfirstpipeline—afour-milertoOilCreek—thatputtheirwagonsoutofbusiness.

Thetwoyoungwomenactedasone.

Nelliethrewherarmsaroundhimandplantedakissonhischeek.Ednawrestedthegunfromhishands.He

didnotresist.Hewoulddiehimselfbeforeheletharmcometoeitherofthem.Edna,hisadoptedstepdaughter,acubreporterfortheOilCityDerrickwhohadjustgraduatedfromAlleghenyCollege,wasthequietone.Theyounger,outgoingNellieusuallydidthetalking.Shedidnow,cloakingurgencywithgood-humoredteasing.

“Whomdoyouintendtoshoot,Father?”shejoshedin

astrongvoice.“Doburglarslurk?”

“Icamesoclose,”hemuttered.“Soclose.”

“You’lldobetternexttime.”

Mattersliftedhisheadfromhishandsandraisedhisgazetotheclear-eyed,slenderyoungwomen.Thehalfsisterslookednearlyalike,havinginheritedtheirmother’ssilkychestnuthairandstrong,regularfeatures,

buttherethesimilarityended.Onewasanopenbook.Oneavaultofsecrets.

“DoyouknowwhatRockefellerdid?”heasked.

“Ifhedrownedintheriver,they’dfindhisbodyupstream,”saidEdna.“JDRisthemasteroftheunexpected.”

“Iwishhewoulddrownintheriver,”saidNellie.

“SodoI,”saidMatters.“Morethanever.”Hetold

themaboutRockefeller’sinvitationtojoinStandardOil.“HeadofthePipeLineCommittee,noless.”

NellieandEdnalookedatthepistolthatEdnawasstillholding,thenlockedeyes.Theywereterrifiedhewouldkillhimself.Butwouldgivinguphislifelongfightforindependencekillhim,too?Onlymoreslowly.

“Maybeyoushouldtakeit,”saidNellie.

“Fatherisbetterthanthat,”saidEdna.

Hisglisteningeyesflickeredfromtheirfacestothetoytheatersandsettledonthegun.Ednadrewitclosertoherbody.AqueersmilecrossedMatters’grimface.“MaybeIcouldbebetterthanthat.”

“Youare,”theychorused.“Youare.”

Theirhelplessexpressionstorehimtopieces.“Go,”he

said.“Leaveme.Keepthegun.Easeyoursillyminds.”

“Areyousureyou’llbeallright?”

“Givemeuntilmorningtogetusedtogettingbeat.”

Heusheredthemoutandclosedthedoor.Wildthoughtswereracingthroughhismind.Hecouldnotsitstill.Fatherisbetterthanthat?

Heprowledhisoffice.Nowandthenhepausedto

peerintothetoytheaters.TwiceayearhewouldtakethegirlsonthetraintoplaysinNewYork.AndaftertheOilCityskatingrinkwasconvertedtoanoperahouse,theyattendedeverytouringcompanythatperformed.Shakespearewastheirfavorite.RomeolovingJuliet.Hamletpromisinghisfather’sghostrevenge.RichardIIIinstructinghishenchmen.Secretpromises.Secret

revenge.Secretplots.Couldhebowhishead

andacceptRockefeller’sinvitationtojointhetrust?

Orcouldhepretendtobowhishead?

Whatdoyousay,Hamlet?Makeupyourmind.Doyouwantrevenge?Ordoyouwantmore?AtenthofStandardOil’scolossalprofitswouldmakehimoneoftherichestmeninAmerica.Sowhat?How

manymealscouldamaneat?Inhowmanybedscouldhesleep?

AtenthoftheStandard’spowerwouldcrownaking.

Whatdoyousay,Richard?Howmanyplotshaveyoulaid?Whatsecretmischief?

EvenRichardwassurprisedhowblindhisenemieswere.

Matterscalculatedtheoddsbylistinghisenemy’s

weaknesses.Theall-powerful

monopolywaslikeacrackteamofstronghorses.ButseenthroughBillMatters’clearandbittereye,thosehorseswereblinkered,hobbled,andhunted:hobbledbyfearofchange;huntedbygovernmentprosecutorsandProgressivereformersdeterminedtobreaktheirmonopoly;blindedbyStandardOil’sobsessionwith

secrecy.Couldtheybedoneinlike

RomeoandJulietbytheconfusionofsecrets?

TheStandard’ssystemizedsecrecy,thesecrettrustsandhiddensubsidiariesthatshieldedthecorporationfrompublicscrutiny,bredintrigue.Ontheoccasionshe’dbeensummonedtotheStandard’soffices,hehadneverbeenallowedtoseeanothervisitor.Whoknew

whatprivatedealswerestruckinthenextroom?

RichardwasthemantobeattheStandard,theplotterof“secretmischiefs.”

Butwherewerehishenchmen?Whowouldhelphim?Whocouldhecounton?Spikewouldn’tbeworthadamn.Hisoldpartnerwasatwo-fistedbrawler,butnoconspirator,andtoosunnyasoultokillwhenkillingenteredtheplot.Heneeded

henchmenwithheartsofice.

BOOKONE

BULLETSSIXYEARSLATER

KANSAS

A1

tallmaninawhitesuit,withahandsomeheadof

goldenhair,anabundantmustache,andfierceblueeyes,steppedoffanextra-farelimitedatUnionDepotandhurriedforwardtocollecthisLocomobilefromtheexpresscar.Hetradedjokeswiththe

railroadfreighthandlerseasingthebigredautodowntheramp,lamentedKansasCity’slossoffirstbasemanGradytotheSt.LouisCardinals,andtippedgenerouslywhenthejobwasdone.

CouldtheyrecommendafastroutetoStandardOil’sSugarCreekrefinery?

Followingtheirdirections,hedroveoutoftherundown,saloon-linedstationdistrict,

whentwowagonssuddenlyboxedhimintoanarrowstreet.Themenwhojumpedoffweredressedmorelikeprizefightersthanteamsters.Abroad-shoulderedgiantswaggeredup,andherecognizedBigPeteStraub,whomhehadseenboardthetrainatSt.Louis.

Straubflashedabadge.“StandardOilRefinery

Police.YouIsaacBell?”Bellstooddownfromhis

auto.HewasastallasStraub,welloversixfeet,butleanaswireropeonaone-hundred-seventy-five-poundframe.Aheadheldhighandaself-containedgazesignifiedlifeatfulltide.

Straubguessedhisageataroundthirty.“Gobackwhereyoucamefrom.”

“Why?”Bellaskednonchalantly.

“There’snothingforyouinKansas.We’llfireanyman

whotalkstoyou,andtheyknowit.”

Bellsaid,“Moveyourwagon.”

Ahaymakerpunchflewathisface.

Heslippeditoverhisshoulder,steppedintosinkleftandrightfistsdeep,andsteppedbackasquickly.Thecompanycopdoubledover.

“Gethim!”Straub’smencharged.

Anautomaticpistolwitha

cavernousmuzzlefilledBell’shand,suddenasathunderbolt.“Moveyourwagon.”

—Theysoldgasolineinthefreightyards.Ahardwarestoresuppliedsparetubesandtires,atowrope,cansforwater,motoroil,andextragasoline,abedroll,andalever-actionWinchester

repeatingrifleinascabbard,whichBellbuckledtotheemptyseatbesidehim.

Hestoppedatabutchertobuyabeefsteaktogrillonanopenfirewhenhecampedforthenight,andaslabofham,coffeebeans,andbreadforbreakfastinthemorning.DowntownKansasCitywasjammedwithtrolleys,wagons,andcarriagesandfleetsofbrand-newsteam,electric,andgasolineautos.

Finallyclearingthetrafficattheedgeofthesuburbs,heheadedsouthandwest,crossedthestatelineintoKansas,openedtheLocomobile’sthrottleandexhaustpipecutouts,andthunderedontotheprairie.

N2

ocaresswasgentler,nokisssofter,thantheassassin’sfinger

onthetrigger.Machinedbyamaster

gunsmithtosilkenbalance,theSavage99lever-actionriflewouldrewardsuchadelicateunionoffleshand

steelwithdeadlyprecision.Pressureaslightasashallowbreathwouldfirethecustom-loaded,high-velocitysmokelesspowderroundthatwaitedinthechamber.ThetelescopesightwasthefinestWarner&Swaseyinstrumentthatmoneycouldbuy.SpikeHopewellappearednearandlarge.

Spikewaspacingthecorniceatopaneighty-footoilderrickthatstoodonthe

edgeofacrowdofahundredrigsoperatedbyindependentwildcatdrillers.TheytoweredovertheremnantsofasmallhamletataremoteKansascrossroadsfortymilesnorthofIndianTerritory.Sincehehadstruckoil,ahordeofnewcomersseekingtheirfortuneshadrenamedtheplaceHopewellField.

Houses,stables,picketfences,andheadstonesinthechurchyardwerestained

brownfromspoutersthathadflungoiltothewinds.Crudestoragetanks,iron-sided,wood-toppedaffairseightyfeetwideandtwentyhigh,werefilledtothebrim.Pipeslinkedthetankstoamodernrefinerywheretwo-hundred-barrelstillssatonbrickfurnacesinthicketsofcondensingpipe.Theirchimneysloftedcolumnsofsmokeintothesky.

Aboomtownofshacks

andshantieshadsprungupnextdoortofeedandentertaintheoilworkers,whonicknameditHope-Hell.Theysleptina“ragtown”oftents.SaloonsdefiedtheKansasprohibitionlawsjustasinWichitaandKansasCity.Housedinoldboxcars,theywerenotaslikelytobeattackedbyCarrieNationswingingherhatchet.Behindthesaloons,redbrakeman’slanternsadvertisedbrothels.

Railroadtracksskirtedthebustlingcomplex.Butthenearesttownwithapassengerstationwastenmilesaway.Investorsweresellingstocktobuildanelectrictrolley.

Therefineryreekedofgasoline.

Theassassincouldsmellitsevenhundredyardsaway.

—AredLocomobileblazed

acrosstheKansasplain,brightasfireandplumingdust.

SpikeHopewellsawitcomingandbrokeintoabroadsmiledespitehistroubles.Theautoandthespeedfienddrivinglikeawhirlwindwerevividproofthatgasoline—onceanotoriousrefiningimpuritythatexplodedkerosenelampsinpeople’sfaces—wasthefuelofthefuture.

Hisbrand-newrefinerywasmakingoceansofthestuff,boilingsixteengallonsofgasolineoffeverybarrelofKansascrude.Fiftythousandgallonsandjustgettingstarted.Ifonlyhecouldshipittomarket.

—Theassassinwaitedforabreathofwindtoclearthesmoke.

Youcouldnotignorewindatlongrange.Youhadtocalculateexactlyhowmuchitwoulddeflectabulletandyouhadtorefineyourcalculationsasimpetusslowedandgravitytookitstoll.Butyoucouldn’tshootwhatyoucouldn’tsee.Theoldoilmanwasamurkypresenceinthetelescopesight,obscuredbythesmokethatrosethickandblackfromahundredengineboilersand

refineryfurnaces.Hopewellstoppedpacing,

plantedhishandsontherailing,andstaredintently.

Abreezestirred.Thesmokethinned.

Hisheadcrystallizedinthepowerfulglass.

Schooledinanatomy,theassassinpicturedboneandconnectingfibersoftendonandmuscleandnerveunderhistarget’sskin.Thebrainstemwasaninchwide.To

severitwastodropamaninstantly.

SpikeHopewellmovedabruptly.Heturnedtowardtheladderthatrosefromthederrickfloor.Theassassinswitchedtobinocularstoinspecttheintruderintheirwiderfieldofvision.

Amaninawhitesuitclearedthetoprungandboundedontothecornice.Theassassinrecognizedthelithe,supple-yet-contained

fluidgracethatcouldonlybelongtoanotherpredator—adeadlypeer—andeverynervejumpedtohighalert.

Instinct,logic,andhorsesensewereinperfectagreement.Shootthethreatfirst.

Recklesspriderevolted.Noone—noone!—interfereswithmykill.IshootwhoIwant,whenIwant.

—IsaacBellvaultedfromtheladder,landedlightlyonthederrickcornice,andintroducedhimselftoSpikeHopewellwithanengagingsmileandapowerfulhand.

“Bell.VanDornDetectiveAgency.”

Spikegrinned.“DetectingincognitoinaredLocomobile?Thoughtyou

werethefiredepartment.”IsaacBelltookaninstant

likingtothevigorousindependent,byallreportsamanasopenheartedashewascombative.WithaknowingglanceatthesourceofSpike’stroubles—amammothgasolinestoragetankonthefarsideoftherefinery,eightyfeetwideandtwentyhigh—Bellansweredwithastraightface.

“Having‘detected’that

you’reawashingasoline,Itradedmyhorseforanauto.”

Hopewelllaughed.“Yougotmethere.Biggestglutsincetheautowasinvented...Whatchadoinghere,son?Whatdoyouwant?”

Bellsaid,“Thegovernment’sCorporationsCommissionisinvestigatingStandardOilforviolatingtheShermanAnti-TrustAct.”

“Dotell,”saidHopewell,

hismannercooling.“Thecommissionhired

theVanDornAgencytogatherevidenceoftheStandardbustinguprivals’businesses.”

“What’sthatgottodowithme?”

“Fiftythousandgallonsofgasolineyoucan’tshiptomarketisthesortofevidenceI’mlookingfor.”

“It’ssittingthereinthattank.Lookallyouwant.”

“Canyoutellmehowyourglutfilledit?”

“Nope.AndIwon’ttestifyeither.”

IsaacBellhadexpectedresistance.Hopewellhadareputationforbeingtoughasagamecockandscrappyasaone-eyedtom.ButthesuccessoftheVanDorninvestigationhingedonpersuadingtheindependenttotalk,bothinconfidenceandinpublictestimony.Fewoil

menalivehadmoreexperiencefightingthemonopoly.

Agehadn’tslowedhimabit.InsteadofcashinginandretiringwhenhestruckenormousoilfindsinKansas,SpikeHopewellhadbuiltamodernrefinerynexttothefieldstoprocesscrudeoilforhisfellowindependentdrillers.Nowhewasinthefightofhislife,layingatidewaterpipelinetoship

theirgasolineandkerosenetotanksteamersatPortArthur,Texas.

StandardOilwasfightingjustashardtostophim.

“Won’ttestify?TheStandardfloodedthecourtswithlawyerstoblockyourlinetotheGulfofMexico.”

Spikewasnoslouchintheinfluencedepartment.“I’mfighting’emintheStateHouse.ThelawmakersinTopekaknowdarnedwell

thatKansasproducersandKansasrefineriesaredeadunlessIcanshiptheirproducttoEuropeanmarketsthatStandardOildon’tcontrol.”

“Isthatwhytherailroaduntiedyoursiding?”

Therewerenotankcarsontherefinerysiding.Aforlorn-looking0-6-0switchenginehadsteamup,butithadnowheretogoandnothingtodoexceptshuttlematerialaroundtherefinery.

AquartermileofgrassandsagebrushseparatedHopewell’stracksfromthemainlinetoKansasCity.Theroadbedwasgraded,andgravelballastlaid,andtelegraphwirestrung.Buttheconnectingspurforthecarloadsofmaterialtobuildtherefineryhadbeenuprooted.Switches,rails,andcrosstieswerescatteredonthegroundasifangrygiantshadkickedittopieces.

Hopewellsaid,“Mylawyersjustgotaninjunctionorderingtherailroadtohookmeupagain.”

“Youwonahollowvictory.StandardOiltiedupeveryrailroadtankcarintheregion.Thecommissionwantstoknowhow.”

“Tell’emtotakeitupwiththerailroad.”

Awinterylightgrayedthedetective’seyes.Hissmilegrewcool.Pussyfootingwas

gettinghimnowhere.“OtherVanDornoperativesareworkingontherailroad.MyparticularinterestishowtheStandardisblockingyourtidewaterpipeline.”

“Itoldyou,son,Iain’ttestifying.”

“Withnopipeline,”Bellshotback,“andnorailroadtotransportyourproductstomarket,yourwellsandrefineryareworthless.Everythingyoubuiltherewill

beforcedtothewall.”“I’vebeenbankrupt

before—beforeyouwereborn,sonny—butthistime,Ijustmighthaveanothertrickupmysleeve.”

“Ifyou’reafraid,”Bellsaid,“theVanDornAgencywillprotectyou.”

Spike’smannersoftenedslightly.“Iappreciatethat,Mr.Bell.AndIdon’tdoubtyoucangiveanaccountofyourself.”Henoddeddownat

theLocomobileeightyfeetbelow.“Thatyouthinktopackatowropetocrossopencountrytellsmeyou’reacapablehand.”

“Andenoughextrapartstobuildanewonetopulltheoldoneoutofaditch,”Bellsmiledback,thinkingtheyweregettingsomewhereatlast.

“ButyouunderestimateStandardOil.Theydon’tmurderthecompetition.”

“Youunderestimatethedanger.”

“Theydon’thavetokillus.Youyourselfjustsaidit.They’vegotlobbyiststotripusupinthelegislatureandlawyerstocrushusincourt.”

“DoyouknowBigPeteStraub?”Bellasked,watchingforHopewell’sreaction.

“PeteStraubisemployedbyStandardOil’sindustrialservicefirm.That’stheir

fancynameforrefinerycops,strikebreakers,andlaborspies.HesmashedmypipelinebackinPennsylvania.”

“IbumpedintoStraubonlyyesterdayinKansasCity.”

Theoldermanshrugged,asifmonumentallyunconcerned.“StandardOilhasnomonopolyonprivatecopsandstrikebreakers.You’llfindBigPete’sbulldozingunionlaborincoal

mines,railroads,andsteelmills.Forallyouknow,he’sonhiswaytoColoradotobustuptheminersunion.Heck,Rockefellerownshalftheminesoutthere.”

“He’snotinColorado.He’sinKansas.LasttimeStraubvisitedKansas,independentrefinersbuckingtheStandardturnedupdeadinFortScottandCoffeyville.”

“Accidents,”Spike

Hopewellscoffed.“ReedRiggsfellunderalocomotive—drunk,ifheheldtopattern—andpoorAlbertHillwasrepairinganagitatorwhenhetumbledintoatank.”HopewellshotBellachallenginglook.“Youknowwhatanagitatoris,Mr.Detective?”

“Theagitatortreatscrudegasolinedistillatewithsulfuricacid,washesawaytheacidwithwater,

neutralizesitwithcausticsoda,andseparatesthewater.”

Hopewellnodded.“You’vedoneyourhomework.Inthatcase,youknowthatthefumes’llmakeyoulight-headedifyou’renotcareful.Alberttendednottobe.”

“I’mnotonehundredpercentsurebothwereaccidents.”

“I’msure,”Hopewell

firedback.Bellturnedonhim

suddenly.“Ifyou’renotafraid,whywon’tyoutestify?”

Hopewellfoldedhisamplearmsacrosshischest.“Tattlinggoesagainstmygrain.”

“Tattling?Comeon,Spike,we’renotschoolboys.Yourwork’satgraverisk,everythingyoubuilt,andmaybeevenyourlife.”

“It’lltakeyourcommissionyears,ifever,tochangeadamnedthing,”Spikeretorted.“ButfolksinKansasareitchingforafightrightnow.We’llbeattheStandardintheStateHouse—outlawrebatesandguaranteeequalshippingratesforall.AndiftheStandarddon’tlikeit,Kansaswillbuilditsownrefinery—or,betteryet,”headdedwithaloudlaugh,“buythisone

frommesoIcanfocusmythoughtsonmypipeline.”

IsaacBellheardafalsenoteinthatlaugh.SpikeHopewellwasnotassureofhimselfasheboasted.

—Couldyousnipeamanintheneckatsevenhundredyards?

AskthewinnerofthegoldmedalforthePresident’sMatchof1902.

Couldyouevenseehimathirdofamileaway?

ReadthecommendatorylettersignedbyTheodoreRooseveltinwhichTR,theheroofSanJuanHill,salutedthesharpshooterwhowonthePresident’sMatchfortheMilitaryRifleChampionshipoftheUnitedStates.

Doubtme?Readaboutbull’s-eyes

riddledatathousandyards.DidPresidentRoosevelt

shoutBully!theassassinsmiled,whenthechampiontook“Frenchleave”?

Butwho’dhavehadthenervetotellTeddythatthedeadliestsniperintheArmydesertedhisregiment?

—“Mr.Hopewell,”saidIsaacBell,“ifIcan’tpersuadeyoutodotherightthingbyyourfellowindependents,would

youatleastanswersomequestionsaboutoneofyourformerpartners?”

“BillMatters.”“HowdidyouknowI

meantMatters?You’vehadmanypartners,wildcatdrillingpartners,pipelinepartners,refinerypartners.”Bellnamedthree.

Hopewellansweredslowlyanddeliberatelyasifaddressingabackwardchild.“Thecommissionthathired

yourdetectiveagencyisinvestigatingStandardOil.BilltookupwiththeStandard.HesitstolunchwiththeirexecutivecommitteeinNewYork.Lunch—Mr.Anti-TrustCorporationsCommissionDetective—iswheretheyhatchtheirschemes.”

Bellnodded,encouragingHopewelltokeeptalkingnowthathehadgottenhimwoundup.Hisinvestigationsofar

hadbeenastudyinhowthegiantcorporationfiredimaginationsandspawnedfantasies.StandardOilhadbeenatthetopoftheheapsincebeforemostpeoplewereborn.Itseemednaturalthatthetrustwouldpossessmysticalpowers.

“Wereyousurprised?”“NotwhenIthoughtabout

it.TheStandardspotsvalue.Oil,land,machinery,men.Theypayforthebest.Bill

Matterswasthebest.”“Imeantwereyou

surprisedwhenBillMatterschangedsides?”

SpikeHopewellraisedhiseyestolookBellstraightintheface.Thenhesurprisedthedetectivebyspeakingsoftly,withemotion.“Youspoutedthenamesofafewofmypartners.ButBillandIweredifferent.Westartedtogether.Wefoughtmen,shouldertoshoulder,andwe

beat’em.Teamstersthatmadegrizzlieslookgentle.Webeatthem.Wethoughtsoalike,weknewaheadoftimewhattheotherwasthinking.SowhenyouaskwasIsurprisedBillwentwiththeStandard,myansweris,IwasuntilIthoughtitover.Yousee,Billwasneverthesameafterhelosthisboy.”

“Idon’tunderstand,”saidBell.“Whatboy?I’mtoldhehasdaughters.”

“Thepoorlittlesquirtranoff.Billneverheardfromhimagain.”

“Whydidyousay‘poorlittlesquirt.’Anunhappychild?”

“No,no,no.Smiley,laughylittlefellowIneverthoughtwasunhappy.Butallofasudden—poof—hewasgone.Billnevergotoverit.”

“Whendidheleave?”“Mustbesevenoreight

yearsago.”

“BeforeBilljoinedtheStandard?”

“Longbefore.Lookingback,Irealizethattheboyrunningoffbrokehim.Hewasneverthesame.Harder.Hardasadamantine—notthateitherofuswaschoirboys.Choirboysdon’tlastintheoilbusiness.Butsomewherealongtheline,Billgothismoraltrolleywirescrossedand—”

Hopewellstopped

abruptly.HestaredpastBellatthegasolinestoragetank.Hisjawworked.Heseemed,Bellthought,tobereconsidering.

“Butifyouwanttounderstandtheoilbusiness,Mr.Detective,youbetterunderstandthatBillMatterswasnotthefirsttogiveintoStandardOil.HalfthemenintheirNewYorkofficeweredestroyedbyRockefellerbeforehehiredthem.JohnD.

Rockefeller,he’sthedevilyoushouldbeafter.”

“WhatifItoldyouIsuspectthatoneofthosenewermenlikeBillMatterscanleadmetohim?”

“I’dtellyouthatnomaninhisrightmindwouldbitethehandfeedinghimlikehe’sfeedingBill.”

“WouldyouhaveswitchedsidesiftheStandardasked?”

Theoilmandrewhimself

erectandglaredatIsaacBell.“Theydidask.AskedmethesametimetheyaskedBill.”

“Obviouslyyoudeclined.Didyouconsiderit?”

“Itoldthemtogotoblazes.”

Bellasked,“Can’tyouseethatI’mofferingyouanopportunitytohelpsendthemthere?”

Hepointeddownattheorderlyrowsoftanksandthebelchingfurnaces,thenacross

theforestofderricksloomingovertheroofsofwhatmusthavebeenapeacefultown.Agustofwindsweptthesmokeaside.Suddenlyhecouldseecleartothefarthestofthewoodentowers.

“Youbuiltyourrefinerytoserveindependents.That’swhereyourheartlies.Wouldn’tyouagree,sir,thatyouoweittoallindependentoilmentotestify?”

Hopewellshookhishead.

Bellhadonecardleft.Hebettheranchonit.“HowmuchdidtheStandardpayforabarrelofcrudewhenyoudrilledtwoyearsago.”

“Adollarthirty-fiveabarrel.”

“Howmucharetheypayingnow?Providedyoucoulddeliverit.”

“Seventycentsabarrel.”“Theyraisedtheprice

artificiallyhigh,nearlydoubledit,toencourageyou

todrill.YouandyourfellowwildcattersdidtheStandard’sexploratoryworkforthem,atyourownexpense.Thankstoyourdrilling,theyknowtheextentoftheKansasfieldsandhowtheystackupagainsttheIndianTerritoryandOklahomafields.Theysuckeredyou,Mr.Hopewell.”

“Morehomework,Mr.Bell?”saidSpikeHopewell.“IsthattheVanDorn

Detectivemotto:‘Doyourhomework’?”

“TheVanDornmottois‘Wenevergiveup!Never!’”

Hopewellgrinned.“That’smymotto,too...Well,it’shardtosaynotoamanwho’sdonehishomework.Anddamned-nearimpossibletoamanwhowon’tgiveup...O.K.,put’erthere!”

SpikeHopewellthrustapowerfulhandintoBell’s.“Whatdoyouwanttoknow

first?”Bellsteppedclosertotake

it,saying,“I’mmightycuriousaboutthosetricksupyoursleeve.”

Hopewellstumbledbackward,clutchinghisthroat.

S3

tillgrippingthehandthatHopewellhadextended,IsaacBell

heardamutedgunshotandrealizedthatthesoundwasdelayedbythetimeittookabullettoflyanenormousdistance.HepulledSpikedownonthecornice’snarrow

plankfloor,behindthepartialshelteroftherailings.Butitwastoolatetoprotecthim.Theoilmanwasdead.Aslughadpiercedhisthroatandtornoutthebackofhisneck.

AsecondslugpassedthroughthespacethatBell’sownheadhadoccupiedahalfaheartbeatearlier.Ittwangedagainstthesteelcrownpulley,ricocheted,andsplinteredoak.Belllookedforthesource.Theshot

echoedcrazily.Itseemedtocomefromthewest,whereaplainriddledwithgulliesdrainedtowardacreek.Onthefarsideofthecreek,low,woodedhillsstretchedtothehorizon.Hespottedaflickerofmotiontothenorth.Afigurewasclimbingdownaderrickatanastonishingsevenhundredyards’distance.

IsaacBellplungedthreerungsatatimedownthe

ladder.HisLocomobilewas

parkedbetweentheslantinglegsofthederrickandtheenginehouse.Stillhot,themotorfiredonthesecondspin.Heleapedbehindthesteeringwheelandthunderedoffinthedirectiontheshothadcomefrom,weavingawildpaththroughthedenselypackedoilderricksandskiddingarounddrillmachinery,pumphouses,

engines,andmachineshops.Whenheburstoutofthelastrowofderricks,hesawabigmanonhorsebackgallopingacrosstheopenplainthatstretchedbeyondtheoilfield.

Bellracedafterhim.Thefleeingriderwaswell

mountedonastrong,big-bonedanimaloffullyseventeenhands.Bellshovedhisacceleratortothefloorboardsandwrenchedhissteeringwheelsidetosideas

heplowedhisbigautooverroughground,slewingaroundhummocksanddodginggullies.

Aheadofthehorseman,thegrasslandendedabruptlyatathickwood.Ifhegotinsidethetrees,hewasfree.Belldrovefaster.Thedeepcutofthecreekbedseparatedthegrasslandfromthetrees.Bellexulted;hehadhimtrapped.

Heyankedopenhis

exhaustbypassformaximumpower.Unimpededbybackpressure,theLocomobile’sfourcylindersroaredwithalltheirmight.

Thehorsemangallopedstraightatthecreekanddughisspursin.Thehorsegathereditslegsandjumped.Itsforelegsstruckthefarbank.Itsleftrearhoofslippeddowntheearthenwallofthecreek.Therighthoofdugintothegrass,andtheanimal

scrambledfreeandgallopedforthetrees.

IsaacBellwasforcedtoslamontheLocomobile’sanemicbrakesandslidetheautointoasidewaysdrifttostopbeforeittumbledintothecreek.HeyankedhisWinchesterfromitsscabbardbuckledtothepassengerseat.Thehorsemanwasalreadyinsidethewoods,partiallyscreenedbythethinlyscatteredouterfringeoftrees.

Bellsawonechanceandopenedfire.

HeworkedtheWinchester’sejectionleverinablurofmotion.Hadacartridgejammed,thepivotingleverwouldhavesnappedinhishands.Theheavyrifleboomedrepeatedly.Thehorseman’shatflewintheair.Heswayedandstartedtofalloff.Aflailinghandgrippedhissaddlehornandhestayedon

hismount.BeforeBellcouldfireagain,horseandriderfoundtheshelterdeepinsidethewoods.

Bellheardaloudreportbehindhim.Anothergunman?Itseemedtocomefromtheoilderricks.Itwasfollowedimmediatelybyametallicclangingnoiselikeablacksmith’shammer.Thenheheardasharpretortlikeablastingcaporaquarterstickofdynamite.

Ablindinglightflashedfromtherefinery.

AhollowBoom!shooktheair.Theexplosionblewthetopoffacrudeoiltankthatstoodintheoutermostringoftanks.Shatteredplankingtuftedintothesky.Blacksmokepillared.Thefirstexplosion,Bellsurmised,hadignitedthenaturalgasthatrosefromthecrudeoilandcollectedinthetopofthetanks.Thegasexplosionhad

settheoilitselftoburning.Thatitthreatenedto

destroySpikeHopewell’sentirerefinerywasevidencedbythesightofgangsofoilworkersarrivingontherunwithshovelsandpickstodigatrenchbetweentheburningtankanditsneighbors.Theyconvergedfromthederricksandtherefinery,theragtown,andthesaloons.Agangrolledoutacannononatwo-wheeledguncarriage.

AfieldgunwouldbeabafflingsighthadnotBellstudiedtheoilbusinessfromtoptobottomtopreparefortheCorporationsCommissioninvestigation.Regularprocedureforfightinganoiltankfirewastoshootholesinthetankbelowtheliquidlinetodraintheoilthatfedthefire.Artilleryallowedthefirefighterstostayoutsidethelethalrangeofexplosions.

Oneoftheguncarriage

wheelsslippedintoashallowgullyandsunkaxle-deepinthewet,spongyground.Bellracedtohelp,drivingtheLocomobileacrosstheprairiegroundasfastastheclumpedgrasswouldallow.Hecouldseeatthebaseoftheroilingsmokecolumnadiamond-brightcoreofflamegrowingwider,taller,andbrighter.

Bellheavedhissteeringwheelhardleftanddroveascloseashedaredalongside

thecannonwhilekeepinghisownwheelsonfirmground.Hethrewthetowropehekeptcoiledaroundthesparetires.Theguncrewtiedontothecarriagetrail.Bellacceleratedthepowerfulautoanddraggedthecannonoutofthegully.Plowingaheadslowlyenoughtoletthemenguidingitrunalongside,hepulleditintoapositionthatgavethemaclearshotattheburningtank.

Theintenseheatwasmakingthecrudeoilboilandfoamintoamaelstromofredflame,whitesteam,andblacksmoke.Alreadytheheatwastoointensefortheditchinggang.Themenbackedaway.Suddenlytheboiling,foamingoiltankexploded.Tentaclesofliquidflameshotintotheskyandcascadedtotheground,fallingonneighboringtanks.

Thefirefightersdropped

theirshovelsandran.Theybarelyescaped.Twomoreexplosionsinquicktimesentlidsflying.Twomoretanksgushedgeysersofflamethatfountainedskywardandcollapsedontanksasyetunscathed.Anexplosionbreachedthewallofatank.Oilspilled,tumblingovertheground,acrossditches,andsplashingagainstaburningshack,levelingtheflimsywoodenstructure,and

igniting.Thefiresspread,gaining

speed.Theflamesleapedthe

outerditcharoundtherefinery.Severalbuildingseruptedintoflame,andsoonthefirewasslitheringpasttherefinerytowardthebiggestholdingtankinKansas,whichSpikeHopewellhadbuilttostorehisglutofgasoline.

Thecannoncrew

exchangedfrightenedlooks.“Shoot!”saidIsaacBell.

“Onthejump!”Morefrightenedlooks.

Mostscattered,leavingBellwiththreebravemen:anindependentwildcattersportingaboss’sknee-highridingbootsandwatchchain,agray-beardedCivilWarvetinaforagecap,andayoungfarmerinabatteredslouchhat.

“Can’tshootgasoline,”

saidthewildcatter.“Toovolatile,”saidthe

vet.“It’llblowthattanklikeanitroshot.Killeveryonewithinamile.”

“Butifthecannondoesn’tsetitoff,”saidBell,“thefirewill.”

Hethoughtfastandpointedatthe0-6-0switchengineidlingontherefinerysiding.“Whocanrunthatlocomotive?”

“Me,”saidthebearded

oldsoldier.“Steamittothisendofthe

sidingcloseasyoucantothetank.”

Bellpointedatagiantspoolofdrillingcable.Theothertwounderstoodhisplanimmediately.Terrifiedexpressionsontheirsmoke-grimedfacessaidtheydidn’tlikeit.

“It’souronlychance,”saidBell.

Thespoolwassixfeet

high.Theyextractedthelooseendofthecablefromthecoil,puttheirshoulderstothespool,andcommencedrollingittouncoilthecable.Menwatchingsawwhattheywereuptoandcametohelp.

Ariggerranupwithamonkeywrenchandasackofcableclamps,nuts,andbolts.“Youboysmustbeloco,”heshoutedovertheroaroffire.“GuessI’lljointhecrowd.”Hebentthelooseendofthe

cableintoaloop,clampedittogether,anddraggedittowardthelocomotive,whileIsaacBellandtheothersdraggedtheirendtothegasolinetank.

Tankswereburningbehindthemandtoeitherside.Columnsofsmokerosefromtheincineratedcrude,swirlingliketornadoes.Theyclimbedswiftly,joinedhighoverhead,andturnedtheskyblack.

Pursuedbythefire,Bellandhishelperspulledthecabletothefootofthegasolinetank.Itwasashighasathree-storyhouse.Aladderledupitsironside.Bellslungtheloopoverhisshoulderandclimbed.Themenbelowpushedthestiffcableup,tryingtorelievehimofsomeoftheweight.Hewasbreathinghardwhenhereachedthetopandswungontothewoodenroof.The

farmerfollowedclosebehindcarryingacrowbarandanax.

“Canyourungetmethatmonkeywrench?”

“Whatareyougoingtodo?”

“Chopaholeintheroof,”saidBell,swingingtheaxwithallhismight.“Run,”hesaidagain.“IncaseIthrowsparks.”

Thefireswereadvancingquickly.Anotheroiltankexplodedandthickburning

crudeflewthroughtheair.Withverylittletimetopiercetheroof,hethankedhisluckystarsfortheNorthwesttimbercasewhenhe’dmasqueradedasalumberjack.Tar,woodchips,andsplintersflew.

Hechoppedopenaholeattheedgeoftheroof,justinsidetheironwall.Thefumesthatsuddenlyventedwerealmostoverwhelming.Hisheadspun.Thefarmercameuptheladderagain,

gaspingforwind.HepassedBellthemonkeywrench.

“What’sitfor?”“Anchor,”saidBell,

fasteningthewrench’sjawsfirmlyaroundthecable.“Runwhileyoucan.”

Heshovedthewrenchandthecableloopthroughtheholeandwedgedittightlywiththecrowbarandtheax.ThenhesignaledtheCivilWarvet,droppeddowntheladderasfastashecould,and

rantowardhim.Aspaceofabouttwo

footballfieldsseparatedthegasolinetankfromtheswitchengine,whichbackedaway,drawingtheslackoutofthedrillingcable.Whenitwastightatalong,shallowanglebetweenthetopofthetankandthesiding,Bellswungaboardtheengine.“I’lltakeher.”

“Welcometoit.”Bellputhishandsonthe

throttleandquadrant,admittedsteamtothecylinders,andbackedawaysmoothly.“Niceandeasy,now.”

“Finetouch,”saidthevet.“Where’dyoulearnit?”

Belleyedthecable,whichwastighteninglikeabowstring.“BorrowedalocomotivewhenIwasincollege.”

Thedrillingcablewasstrongenoughtodothejob.

Andtheswitchenginehadthepower.Butwouldhismakeshiftanchorholdfasttothetank’sironwall?

Moresteam.Bellpeeredthroughthesmoke.Wasthewallbulgingorwasthatwishfulthinking?

“Where’dyoutakethelocomotive?”

“MissPorter’s.”“Girls’school?”“Youngladies.”Alittlemoresteam.It

lookedlikeabulge.Suddenlythecableflew

highintheair.“Thewirebusted!”yelled

thevet.“No,”saidBell,“the

wall.”Asectionofthetank’s

ironwall,apanelsixfeetwide,poppedarowofrivets,peeledopenlikeasardinecan,andbenttowardtheground.Gasolinecascaded.

IsaacBellheldhisbreath.

Oneoftwothingswouldhappennowanditwasevenmoneywhich.

Withluck,theescapinggasolinewoulddrownthesparksstruckbyclashingmetal.

Butifitdidn’t—iftheriverpushedvolatilegasfumesaheadofit—thesparkswoulddetonatethefumesandblowtherefinery,theoilfield,thehamletofwoodenhouses,theboomtown’s

shacks,andtheragtown’stentstotheothersideofKingdomCome.

A4

fifty-thousand-gallonriverofgasolinesurged

throughtheholeIsaacBellhadrippedinthetankandspilledontotheground.Itfloodeddowntheshallowslopethatsurroundedthetankandspreadinabillowingtorrentofrapidsand

whirlpools.“Run!”saidBellandled

theway.Thattheywerestillalive

meanthehadpreventedacatastrophicexplosion.Buttherewasnostoppingthefire—notwithglobsofburningcrudeoilfromtheexplodingoiltanksfallinglikebrimstone.Atleast,hehoped,peoplehadachancetoescape.

Thegasolineignited

withinseconds.Itburnedfiercely,tumblinggreatrollersofflameacrosstheprairie.Therollerspouredintothegulliesandfilledthemwithfingersoffirethatracedtowardthedistantcreekandsetitablaze.

Herdingmenaheadofit,pluckingthefallentotheirfeet,BellspottedHopewell’sheadquarters.Itwasahousehehadconvertedintoanoffice.Whatmusthavebeen

itsgardenwasnowbracketedbyarefineryfurnaceandastoragetank.Telegraphwiresranfromitalongtheuprootedrailspurtothemainline.

Bellpushedinthefrontdoor.

“CanyouwireWashington?”

Thetelegraphergapedatthecliffofflameengulfingthetanknextdoorandjumpedoutthewindow.IsaacBelltookoverthekeyand

rattledoutamessagetoVanDornheadquartersasfastashecouldsendMorsecode:

DISPATCHINVESTIGATORSHOPEWELLFIELDMURDERARSONONTHE—

Thekeywentdeadunderhishand.

Helookedoutthewindow.Thetelegraphpoles

thatjoinedtheHopewellFieldtotheWesternUnionsystemalongthemainraillinewereburning.Thewireshadmelted.Thelastwordnevermadeit,buteverydetectiveintheVanDornoutfitknewthaturgentwiresfromIsaacBellendedJUMP!

—Valuablemenarrivedthenextdayonfastmailtrains.

Thevolatilegasolineandkerosenehadburnedoffintheinterveningtwenty-fourhours,butthefiresstillrampaged,feedingrelentlesslyontheheavycrudeoil.Bellbroughtthefirstarrivalsuptodateonwhatlittlehehaddiscoveredwhiletheywereenrouteandmarchedthemthroughthedestruction.

“I’mprettymuchitforwitnesses.Everyonewas

busyworkingbeforetheexplosionandrunninglikethedevilafter.Asformotive,theindependentsblameStandardOilfortheshootingandburning.”

“Anyoneofferingproofofaconnection?”

“IranintoBigPeteStraubinKansasCity,andtherearerumors‘someone’sawhimyesterdayinFortScott.ThemanwhosehairIpartedwithmyWinchesterfitthe‘big’

part,butIneversawhisface.”

Thetalldetectivewashollow-cheekedandhoarse,havingnotsleptsincethekillingandthefire.Hiseyesglitteredanangryblueinafaceblackwithsoot.Quickthinkinganddecisiveactionhadsavedlives.NoonehaddiedafterSpikeHopewell.ButthefirewouldbankruptSpike’sfriends,theindependents.

Damagerangedoverboththefieldandtherefinery.Theheathadbeensointensethatitmeltedthestationaryenginesthatpoweredthedrillsandtwistedsteelpipes.Woodenderricksandpumphouseshadburnedtoash.Wellswereruined,withtheircasingfallingintothebores.Ofonehundredwellsbeingdrilledoralreadypumping,onlyahandfulhadsurvivedwithbothderrickandpump

houseintact.VanDornexplosives

expertWallyKisley,whodressedlikeatravelingsalesmaninathree-piececheckerboardsuit,gaveaconnoisseur’swhistleofappreciation.“Youjustcan’tbeatarefineryfireforuttermayhem.”

RedheadedArchieAbbott,asociallyprominentNewYorker,amasterofdisguise,andBell’sbestfriend,was

notatallappreciativeandinafoulmood.“IwasimpersonatingaLondon-basedjewelfenceinChicagoandwasonebloodyinchfromnailingLaurenceRosaniawhentheBosspulledmeoffthecase.”

“Thisisathousandtimesmoreimportant,”saidBell,“thanagentlemansafecrackerrobbingChicagotycoons’wivesandmistresses.ThatMr.Van

DornpulledyouoffthecaseoughttogiveyouacluehowcrucialtheCorporationsCommission’scontractistotheagency.”

“We’vegottocatchRosaniabeforeheaccidentallyblowssomeone’shouseupalongwithhissafe.”

“IletoldHopewelldown,”Bellcuthimoffcoldly.“Iwillnotrestuntilhiskillerhangs.”

“Youweren’tona

bodyguardjob,”saidArchie.Bellsteppedcloserwitha

glacialstare.WallyKisley,theirelder

bymanyyears,reckonedthatArchieAbbottwasstretchingthelimitsofafriendshipthathadstartedinacollegiateboxingring.HesignaledArchietoshuthistrapbeforeitturnedintoarematchandspokebeforethefoolmadeitworse.

“Readywhenyouare,

Isaac.”Bellsaid,“Firstquestion:

Didthesamecriminalsdotheshootingandsetthefires?

“Archie,Iwantwitnesses.Someonemusthaveseenthesnipereitherclimbupthatderrickorclimbdown.Carryingarifle,maybedisguisedasatool.Someonemusthaveseenhisdamnedhorse.

“Wally,Iwantyoutolookforanysortofdelayed

detonation:clockworksoraslowfuse.It’slikelyateamofmenattacked,thoughatimingdevicewouldallowonemantofirstprimeanexplosive,thenpickuphisrifle.Butcrackmarksmenarespecialists.Wouldsuchasniperalsoknowhowtorigatimingdevice?”

“Anyoildrillerorrefineryhandcanturnfirebug,”saidWally.“It’sthenatureofrefineriestoexplode.

Lightningboltsblowthemupregularly.”

“IpacedthedistancefromthederrickwhereIsawthekillertowhereSpikewasshot.Nearlysevenhundredyards.Howmanycommonarsonistscouldshootsoaccuratelyatextremerange?Suchmarksmanshipwouldtakeatop-notchsniper,notthesorttodirtyhishandsandriskcapturesettingfires.Snipersprefertooperatefar

removed.”“Adelayeddetonatorcan

befarremoved,”saidArchie.“Timeinsteadofdistance.”

“Witnesses,”saidBell.“Findwitnesses.”

KisleyinterruptedwhateveranswerArchiewasabouttoutter.“Fire’scoolingdown.Isaac,canyoupointmetowardthefirsttanktocatchfire?”

—IsaacBelltracedtherapidclick-click-clickofatypewritertoawalltentpitchedbesidetheburned-outruinsofHope-Hell.Itstoodnexttoabuckboardwagon.Themulewasoutofitstraces,grazingonapatchofgrassthathadescapedthefire.Herappedhisknucklesonthetentpole.

“E.M.Hock?”Thetypewriterkeptgoing.Bellduckedhisheadto

passthroughthecanvasflapsandwasastonishedtoseeawomanhunchedovertheportablemachine.Shewastypinginsuchadeepstateofconcentrationthathedoubtedshehadanyideahewasfivefeetbehindher.ShehadsilkychestnuthaircutsoshortthatBellcouldseethegracefullineofthenapeofherneck.

Apaleshirtwaistwithahighnecksnuggedclosetoherlong,elegantback.

Thetentcontainedafoldingcotwithabedroll,aKodakdevelopingmachineonthecardtablebehindher,andastackoftypingpaper.Astrawhatwasperchedonthebedrollasiftossedthereassherushedtothetypewriter.Bellreadthetopsheetofpaper:

SPECIALTOTHEOILCITYDERRICK.NEWYORKPAPERS

PLEASECOPY

HopewellField,Kansas

AmysteriousfireswepttheHopewelltractofbuildings,tanks,stills,andderricks,devastatedthehamletofKent,anddestroyedtheshack-and-canvasboomtownthat

servicedthefields.Theaveragelossequals$3,000awell.Mostwereruinedbytubingdroppingintothem.Fewerthansixofonehundredwellssurvivewithderricksandpumphousesstanding.Theindependentsarewipedout.Onlythosedrillerswhowerebacked,secretly,bysubsidiariesofStandardOilcanaffordtorebuildtheirruinedengines,burntderricks,andmeltedpipe.

Bellasked,“HowmanywildcatterswerebackedbyStandardOil?”

“Putthatdown,”shecalledoverhershoulder.“It’snotreadytoberead.”

“I’mlookingforE.M.Hock.”

“She’sbusy,”saidthewomanandkepttyping.

“IsometimessuspectedthatthemysteriousE.M.Hockwasashe.”

“Whatarousedyour

suspicion?”“Ahigherthanusual

degreeofhorsesenseinherreportingandadistinctshortageofbombast.What’stheE.M.standfor?”

“EdnaMatters.”“Whykeepitsecret?”“Toderailexpectations.

Whoareyou?”“IsaacBell.VanDorn

DetectiveAgency.”Sheturnedaround,looked

himoverwithseveregray-

greeneyessoftenedonlyslightlybytheboyishcutofherhair.“AreyoutheprivatedetectivewhojusthappenedtobewithMr.Hopewellwhenhewasshot?”

Herears,thoughtBell,wereexquisite,andhewasstruckforciblybyhowattractiveawomancouldbewiththeshortesthairhehadeverseen.

“We’reinvestigatingfortheCorporations

Commission.”“Doyouknowanything

aboutoil?”“I’manexpert.”Adarkeyebrowrose

skeptically.“Expert?How?Didyouworkintheoilfields?”

“No,MissMatters.”“Didyoustudychemical

engineering?”“No.”“Thenhow’dyoubecome

anexpert?”

“Ireadyourarticles.”Sheturnedaway,poised

herfingersoverthetypewriterkeys,andstaredatthesheetofpaperinthemachine.Shebangedawayatthekeys.Asmilequirkedthecornerofhermouthandshestoppedtyping.

“O.K.,wehavesomethingincommon,Mr.Bell:Privatedetectivesflattertheirsubjectsasshamelesslyasnewspaperreporterstomake

themtalk.”“Isincerelymeantto

complimentE.M.Hock’sHistoryoftheUnder-andHeavy-handedOilMonopoly.You’reawonderfulwordsmith,andyouseemtobeincommandofyourfacts.”

“Thankyou.”“Besides,Iwouldnotbore

abeautifulwomanbyflatteringhergoodlooks,whichshemusthearevery

day.”“Mr.Bell,domethe

courtesyofleavingmy‘womanliness’outofthisconversation.”

Thatwouldbelikediscussingthenatureofdaylightwithoutmentioningthesun—aconceptIsaacBellkepttohimselfintheinterestofgarneringevidencefromasavvynewspaperreportersenttocoverthefire.

—“AreyoubyanychancerelatedtoBillMatters?”

“He’smyfather.”“Wouldthatexplainyour

sympathyfortheindependents?”

“Sympathy.Notbias.IbelievethattheindependentbusinessmangivesAmericanenterprisespine.Independentsarebrave,

braveryisthefoundationofinnovation,innovationbreedssuccess.Thatsaid,”sheaddedwithathinsmile,“Ihavenodoubtthatthevastmajorityofindependentsgivenhalfthechancewouldbeashard-nosedasMr.Rockefeller.”

“Thatdistinctionshinesthroughthearticles,”saidBell.

“Youdoseemtowantsomethingfromme,sir.”

IsaacBellgrinned.“Ilookforwardtodiscussingthat‘something’whenI’mfinishedinvestigatingmurder,arson,andcorporatelawbreaking.Inthemeantime,mayIask,doIunderstandcorrectlythatyourfatherwasinpartnershipwithSpikeHopewellbeforehejoinedStandardOil?”

“Untilsixyearsago.IsthatwhatyouwerediscussingwithMr.Hopewellwhenhe

wasshot?”“Didtheypartongood

terms?”“Didn’tMr.Hopewelltell

youthathewasangrywithFatherforjoiningupwithStandardOil?”

BellrecalledHopewell’semotionaltellingofMatters’son,thiswoman’sbrother,runningaway,andsaid,“Hedidnot.Infact,hespokewithsomesympathy.Howdidtheypart?”

“Mr.HopewellcalledFatheratraitor.FathercalledMr.Hopewellastuck-in-the-mudfool.Mr.HopewellaskedFatherwasthereanythinglowerthanaStandardOilmagnate,excepthepronouncedthewordas‘maggot.’”

ShecastBellasmile.“Witnessessworethefirstpuncheswerethrownsimultaneously.”

Bellasked,“Havethey

spokensince?”“Ofcourse.Sixyearsis

toolongforoldfriendstoholdagrudge,and,besides,theybothflourished—Mr.HopewellwildcattinginKansasandFathermanagingtheStandard’spipelines.”

“HowwillhetakethenewsofHopewell’sdeath?”

“Hewilltakeithard.Veryhard.”

IsaacBellasked,“WouldIfindyourfatherinNew

York,at26Broadway?”“Whenhe’snot

traveling.”Somethingthumpedthe

canvasroof.EdnaMatterslookedup.Adelightedsmilemadeherevenmorebeautiful,Bellthought.Shebrushedpasthimandoutthetentflaps.Hefollowed.AthickManilahempropehungdownfromthesky.Threehundredfeetoverhishead,awickerbasketsuspended

underayellowgasballoonwasdraggingtherope,whichhoppedandskippedacrosstheground.

Ednaranafterthedragline.

Acanvassacklikeabank’smoneybagsliddownitandlandedatherfeet.

Shewavedittothepersonlookingdownfromthebasketandhurriedbacktothetent,wheresheopenedthebagandremovedasturdybuff-

coloredenvelope.InsidewasatincylinderofthetypethatcontainedKodakrollfilm.

“Isthatcamerafilm?”“Mysistersnappedan

aerialphotographofthedevastation.”

“Yoursister?”“Halfsister.Myreal

fatherdiedwhenIwasababy.MymothermarriedmystepfatherandtheyhadNellie.”

Shesteppedinsidethetent

andemergedwithbinoculars.“Igottheimpressionyoulikebeautifulwomen,Mr.Bell.Havealook.”

BellfocusedonchestnuthaircutasshortasEdnaMatters’,abrilliantsmile,andexuberanteyebrows.Edna’sfinefeaturesseemedmagnifiedinNellie’sface.

“Ifyoufindherappealing,Mr.Bell,Irecommendyouleaveherbeautyandwomanlinessoutofyour

conversationalrepertoire.”“Why?”“Read.”Theyellowballoonhad

driftedonthelightwind.Nowthatitwasnolongerdirectlyoverhead,Bellcouldreadhugeblacklettersonitsside:

VOTESFORWOMEN

“Asuffragette?”

“Asuffragist,”EdnaMatterscorrectedhim.

“What’sthedistinction?”“Asuffragettetriesto

convertmentothecauseofenfranchisement.”

“IheardAmandaFaireatMadisonSquareGarden,”saidBell,recallingastatuesqueredheadwhohadenthralledhermostlymaleaudience.

“ThefairAmandaisashiningexampleofa

suffragette.Asuffragistconvertswomen.You’llgetfurtherwithNellieifyouunderstandthatwomenwillgaintherighttovotewhenallwomenagreethatenfranchisementisasimplematterofjustice.”

“Whataboutthemen?”“Iftheywanttheirmeals

cooked,shirtsironed,andbedswarmed,theywillhavenochoicebuttogoalong.OrsoNelliebelieves...Andby

theway,you’llgetnowhereifyouevermentionAmandaFaireinhercompany.”

“Rivals?”“Fireandice.”ArchieAbbotthurriedup,

shieldinghiseyestoinspecttheballoon.“Getreadyforaspeechifthat’sNellieMatters.”

“Doyouknowher?”“IheardherinIllinoislast

fallatacountyfair.Twohundredfeetintheair,she

deliveredaWilliamJenningsBryanstem-winderthathadtheladieseyeingtheirhusbandslikecandidatesforamasshanging.”

“Thisishersister,”saidBell,“E.M.Hock...MayIpresentmygoodfriendArchibaldAngellAbbottIV?”

Theredheaded,blue-bloodedArchiewhiskedhisbowleroffhisheadandbeamedasmilefamousin

NewYorkforquickeningtheheartbeatsofNewYorkheiressesandtheirsocialclimbingmothersandarousingthesuspicionsoftheirnewlywealthyfathers.“Apleasure,MissHock.AndmayIsaythatrumorsIhaveheardamongjournaliststhatyouareawomanareborneoutsplendidly.”

Bellcouldnothelpbutcomparethechillyresponsewhenheutteredasimilar

complimenttothewarmsmileArchiereceivedfromEdna.

“How’dyouhappentogetheresoquickly?”Archieaskedher.“Thefireisstillsmoldering.”

“IwaspassingbyonmywaybackfromIndianTerritory.”

Archiestaredatthebuckboard.“Inthat?”

“Reportingon‘oilfever’takesmeplacesthetrains

don’tvisit.”“Isaluteyourenterprise

andyourbravery.Speakingofoilfever,Isaac—I’msureyou’veheardthisalready,MissHock—thewildcattersareblamingStandardOilforthefire.”

“Didyouinterviewanywitnesseswhopresentedevidencetosupporttheircontention?”askedBell.

“Mostly,likeyousaid,theyheardthatsomebody

sawStraub,somewhere—that’sBigPeteStraub,MissHock,aStandard—”

“Mr.Straubwasjustpromotedtorefinerypolicesuperintendent,”Ednainterrupted.

“Whichmeanshetravelsanywherehepleases,”saidBell.“Goon,Archie.”

“IdidfindoneguywhoclaimedtoseeMr.StraubrentingahorseinFortScott.”

“Didheseethehorse?”

“SaiditwastallasaClydesdale.”

“TheoneIsawwasamightyleanClydesdale.AreyourwitnessessuggestingStandardOil’smotiveforsettingthefire?”

“OneschoolofrumorsaysStandardOilwantstoshutdownKansasproductiontoraisethepriceofoilbylimitingtheproductreachingmarket.”

BelllookedtoseeEdna’s

reaction.Shesaid,“TheStandardisstillheavilyinvestedinthePennsylvaniaandIndianafields.They’resomewhatdepleted,sotheoilismoreexpensivetopump.TheStandardwilllosemoneyiftheydon’tkeepthepriceup.”

“Whatelse,Archie?”“Anotherrumor,adoozy,

claimsthatStandardOilislayingpipelinesstraightthroughKansastotapricher

fieldsinOklahoma.Aftertheyconnectthosefieldstotheirinterstatepipeline,they’llbypassKansasoilcompletelyandshutdownKansasproduction.Thenwhentheproducersareforcedtothewall,theStandardwillbuytheirleasescheapandlocktheoilinthegroundforthefuture.Theirfuture.”

BelllookedagaintoEdnaMatters.

Thenewspaperwomanlaughed.“Whenyougrowupwithafatherintheoilbusiness,youlearnthatrumorsaboutStandardOilarealwaystrue.AndJDRhearsthemfirst.”

“Whataboutthisone?”askedBell.

“TheKansaspartfitstheirpattern.IndianTerritoryandOklahomaappearrichinnewstrikes.ButtheStandard’spatterndoesnotinclude

shootingpeopleandsettingfires.”

“ExactlywhatSpikeHopewelltoldme.”

EdnaMatterssaid,“Clearly,Mr.Hopewellwasmurdered.Butthere’snoevidenceofthecauseofthefire.”

“Yet,”saidBell.HeconcededthattheonlycrimethatheknewforsurehadoccurredwasthesniperkillingofSpikeHopewell.If

anyonecoulddeterminethecauseofthefire,itwasDetectiveWallyKisley.ButtogetthebestworkoutofWally,hehadtostayoutofhiswayuntilheaskedforahand.

Archieasked,“HowdoesJohnD.Rockefellerheartherumorsfirst?”

“Whentwomenshakehands,JDRknowsthetermsoftheirdealbeforetheyreporttotheirfrontoffices.”

“How?”askedBell.“Hepaysspiestokeep

himaheadofeverydetailinbusinessandpolitics.Refiners,distributors,drillers,railroadmen,politicians.Hecallsthemcorrespondents.”

“Doeshepaynewspaperreporters?”

EdnaMattersHocksmiledatthetalldetective.“He’sbeenknowntoaskreporters.”

“Whatdotheysay?”“Ican’treportonother

reporters.Thereareconfidencesinvolved.Amongfriends.”

“Doyouhaveanypersonalexperienceinwhatreporterssay?”Archieasked,hismosteligiblebachelorinNewYorksmileworkingovertime.

Ednasmiledback.“Personally?Iquotedmyfather’soldpartner,poorMr.Hopewell.”

“WhatdidHopewell

say?”“Whydon’tyouaskMr.

Bell?Hewasthelasttospeakwithhim.”

Bellsaid,“HetoldRockefellertogotoblazes.”

“Actually,”Ednacorrected,“hewasparaphrasing.Whatheoriginallysaid,atleastaccordingtomyfather,was,‘I’djoinSatanfirst.’”

“HowdidRockefellerrespondtoyourpreference

forSatan?”“Ihaven’taclue.JDR

doesnotaskinperson.Hesendspeoplewhoaskforhim.”

“He’safamousnegotiator.Didtheycomebackwithacounteroffer?”

EdnaMattersansweredBellseriously.“Theyaskedmetoreconsider.SoIdid.JDRnevergivesinterviews.Isaid,Allright,I’llfillyouinonsomethingsIlearnif,in

return,Mr.Rockefellerwillsitdownwithmeandmyquestionsforafulldayinterview.”

“Whathappened?”“Ineverheardback.”“Butit’sinteresting,”said

Bell.“Thathedoesn’tseemtoholdyourwritingagainstyourfather.Iunderstandheisamemberoftheinnercircle.”

“Myfatherisavaluableman,andJDRappreciatesvaluablemen.”

“Evenvaluablemenwhosedaughtersareathorninhisside?Hecan’tloveyourarticles.You’veexposedallsortsofbehavior,bothunderhandedandoutrightillegal.”

Ednaasked,“Doesn’thiswillingnessnottoholdmeagainstmyfatherspeakratherhighlyofMr.Rockefeller?”

WallyKisleyhurriedup,grease-smudgedandreekingofsmoke.Hetippedhisderby

toEdna.“Isaac,whenyouhaveamoment...”

Bellsaid,“Berightthere.Comealong,Archie.”

TheyfollowedWallytowardthetankthathadexplodedfirst.

“Extraordinary!”saidArchie.“Ajournalistwhodoesn’treekofboozeandcigars.”

“Handsoff,”saidBell.“Isawherfirst.”

“IfIweren’talmost

engagedtoacoupleofladiesduetoinheritsteelmills,Iwouldgiveyouarunforyourmoney.”

Bellsaid,“KeepinmindthesoonerwearrestthemarksmanwhoshotSpikeHopewell,thesooneryoucangobacktocatchingyourjewelthief.”

“WhatdoesthathavetodowithMissE.M.Hock?”

“Itmeansgofindwitnesses.I’lldealwith

Wally.”Archiemadeabeelinefor

thecaboosesaloon.BellcaughtupwithWallyKisleyataheapofashandwarpedmetalwherethecrudestoragetankhadfoldeduplikeacrumpledpaperbag.

Wallysaid,“Itblewwhenyouweredownbythecreek,right?”

Bellpointed.“Pastthatbend.”

“Byanychancedidyou

hearasecondshotfired?”“Notdownthere.”“Howaboutbehindyou?

Backattheoilfield.”“Iheardsomething.I

don’tknowifitwasashot.”“Couldithavebeen?”“Itcouldhavebeen.There

wasaheckofaracketallatonce.Why?”

“Ifoundthis,”saidWally.Hewasholdinganoddlyshaped,roundedpieceofcastironbyasquarebracket

attachedtothetop.“Careful,it’sstillhot.Takemyglove.”HepassedBellhisleftgloveandBellheldthemetalinit.

“Heavy.”Heexamineditclosely.It

wassixincheshigh.Ononeside,theentiresurfacewaspockedwithminuteindentations,asifablacksmithhadpeeneditwithahammer.“It’sshapedlikeanupside-downduck.”

“Ithoughtthesamething,

atfirst.”Bellupendeditandheldit

withthebracketunderit.“Itisaduck.”

“Shapedlikeaduck.”“Youknowwhatthisis?”

saidBell.“Youtellme.”Bellhadapprenticed

underWallyandhisofttimespartner,MackFulton,yearsago,andoneofthemanythingshehadlearnedfromtheveteraninvestigatorswas

nottovoiceanopinionuntilasecondbrainhadanopportunitytoobservewithoutbeinginfluencedbythefirst.

“It’saknockdowntarget.Ashootinggalleryduck.”

Wallynodded.“Thatbracketattachestothetargetrail.Theduckhingesdownwhenabullethitsit.”

“Where’dyoufindit?”“Thirtyfeetfromthefirst

tankthatblew.”

“Whatdoyouthink?”“Theracketyouheard

rightbeforetheexplosioncouldhaveincludedarifleshot,abulletsmashingintothisduck,andablastingcap.”

“SowhileIwaschasingthesniperonthehorse,anothermarksmandetonatedtheexplosivethatignitedthefire.”

“That’smyread.Heshottheduck,whichjarredablastingcap.”

“Or,”saidBell,“themanIchasedledmeonawild-goosechasewhiletherealassassinstayedputtosetthefire.”

“Highmarksforasenseofhumor,”saidWallyKisley.“Usingashootinggalleryduckforatarget.”

“I’mnotlaughing,”saidIsaacBell.“ButIwillgivethemhighmarksforthenerveittooktosetuptheduck,thecap,andthedynamiteright

undereveryone’snoses.Iwonderwhynobodynoticed.”

“Oilfever.Toobusygettingrich.”

M5

idnightwaswarmedbyaslightbreezeasa

crescentmooninchedtowardthewest.Theassassinsatonalargebarrelthathadbeencutintoachairinfrontoftheswitchingofficeoftherailroadfreightyard.The

interiorwasdarkandemptysincenotrainswereduetoleaveorarriveuntillatethenextmorning.

TheassassinlitaRamónAllonesHavanacigarandretrievedfromacoatpocketaleatherpouchthatcontainedagoldmedal,afifty-dollarbill,andaletteronheavystock.Thetouchofwinddissipatedanattemptatblowingaself-satisfiedsmokering.

Themedalwasasheavy

asadoubleeaglegoldpiece.Andthecenterwasfashionedlikeatarget,withconcentricringsandasingledotintheprecisecenterofthebull’s-eye.Ithungfromaredribbonthatwasattachedtoagoldbarpinengraved“RifleSharpshooter.”

Thefifty-dollartreasurynotewouldhavebeenjustanotherbillofpapermoneyexceptwhenyouturneditoveryousawthatthe

presidenthadsignedtheback—asif,theassassinoftenthought,thebusypresidenthadsuddenlyshouted,“Wait!Bringthatback.I’llsignitforthatfineyoungsoldier.”

IthadtobeRoosevelt’ssignaturebecauseitmatchedhissignatureonthecommendationletterthatthepresidenthadtyped,ashewasknowntodowithpersonalletters,onWhiteHouseletterhead.The

assassinreaditbythelightofaglobeabovetheswitchingofficedoorforperhapsthehundredthtime:

THEWHITEHOUSE

WashingtonOctober1,1902

IhavejustbeeninformedthatyouhavewonthePresident’sMatchforthemilitarychampionshipoftheUnitedStatesofAmerica.I

wishtocongratulateyouinperson...

Theassassinskippedsomefolderolabouthonoringtheregimentandthevalueofvolunteersoldiers—asiftheireyeshadsightedthetargetsandtheirfingerscaressedthetrigger.Fatchance.Thencamethebestpart.

Icongratulateyouandyourpossessionofthe

qualitiesofperseveranceanddetermination—

Asoundoffootstepsongravelinterruptedallthought.Quickly,everythingwentbackintotheleatherpouchandwasreturnedtothecoatpocket.

“Whyhere?”BillMattersgrunted.“Wecouldhavemetinthecomfortofmyprivatecar.”

“Tooostentatious,”saidtheassassin.“Ihavealwayspreferredalifeofsimplicity.”BeforeMatterscouldreply,theassassinmotionedtoanotherbarrelchairwiththecigar.“Iadmitthey’dbemorecomfortablewithseatcushions.”

EveninthedarkMattersshowedhisanger.“Whyinblazes—whyinthefaceofallgoodsense—didyoushootHopewellwhenthedetective

waswithhim?”Theassassinmadeno

apologyandofferednoregretbutretortedloftily,“ToparaphrasethecorruptTammanyHallerSenatorPlunkitt,IsawmyshotandItookit.”

BillMattersfelthisheartpoundingwithrage.“Allmykowtowingtothosesanctimonioussonsofbitchesandyoublithelyunderminemywholescheme.”

“Igotawayclean.Thedetectivenevercameclosetome.”

“YoubroughtasquadofVanDornstothestate.”

“We’redoneinthisstate.”“We’redonewhenIsay

we’redone.”Matterswasdeeply

troubled.Hiskiller,whowasvitaltohisplan,operatedinaworldandaframeofmindbeyondhiscontrol,muchlesshisunderstanding:efficientas

awell-oiledmachine,withguninhand,butpossessedoffthekillingfieldbyarecklessfaiththatnothingcouldevergowrong,thatfortunewouldneverturnnorconsequencescatchup.

“I’msurprisedbyyourdisappointment.”Therewasapausetoexhaleacloudofcigarsmoke.“Inaturallythoughtyouwouldcelebrateyouroldfriend’sdeparture.”

“VanDorndetectives

haveasaying:‘Wenevergiveup!’”

ToMatters’disgust,thisdrewanother,evencolderresponse.“Never?Ihaveasaying,too:‘Nevergettooclosetome.’Ifhedoes,Iwillkillhim.”Theassassinflickedanashfromthecigar.“Who’snext?”

“There’safellowgivingmetroubleinTexas.”

“Who?”“C.C.Gustafson.”

“Ah!”Thekillernoddedin

vigorousagreement,admiringBillMatters’cunning.C.C.GustafsonwasnotmerelyanewspaperpublisherandathorninMatters’sidebutavocalfoeofStandardOilandafirebrandinstigatorbelovedbythereformershell-bentondrivingthetrustoutofTexas.

Matterssaid,“WithacrackerjackVanDornprivatedetectiveonthecase—thanks

toyou—we’vegottothrowoffsuspicion.”

Nothinginthemurderer’sexpressionindicatedtheminutestacceptanceofblame.Infact,itlookedasifthemurderofSpikeHopewellunderthenoseofaVanDornhadbeencompletelyforgottenwhileMatters’inclusive“we”hadkindleddelight.

“MayIofferyouafinecigar?”

Matterssimplyshookhisheadno.

“Brilliant!PublicoutrageexpectstheworstofStandardOil.They’llblameGustafson’skillingonthebogeymaneveryonelovestohate.”

“Canyoudoit?”“CanIdoit?”The

assassinacceptedtheassignmentwithadramaticflourish:“YoumayconsiderMr.C.C.Gustafson’spresses

stopped.”Mattersdidnotdoubt

they’dbestopped.Abulletthroughtheheadwouldtakecareofthat.Butwhatbotheredhimthemostwashownearwashisprivateassassintoflyingoutofcontrol.

I6

saacBellwentlookingforthecoronerinIndependence,the

MontgomeryCountyseat,notfarfromtheIndianTerritoryborder.Thecourthouseclerkdirectedhimtothecoroner’sundertakingparlor.Aplumberrepairingthe

refrigeratingplanttoldBelltotrythejailhouse.Dr.McGradewasvisitingthejailerinhisapartmentabovethecells.TheyweredrinkingwhiskeyinteacupsandinvitedBelltojointhem.

LikemostKansansBellhadmet,Dr.McGradewasfullyawareoftheCorporationsCommissioninvestigationandhugelyinfavorofanyactionthatreinedinStandardOil.Bell

explainedhisconnection.“Gladtohelpyou,

Detective,butI’mnotsurehow.Didn’ttheBourbonCountycoronerconducttheautopsyonMr.Hopewell?”

“I’vealreadyspokenwithhim.I’mcuriousaboutthedeathofAlbertHill.”

“Therefineryfellow,”Dr.McGradetoldthejailer,“whodrownedinthestill.”

Thejailersippedandnodded.“Downin

Coffeyville.”Bellasked,“Whenyou

examinedMr.Hill’sbody,didyouseeanysignsofbulletwounds?”

“Bulletwounds?Youmustbejoking.”

“Iamnotjoking.Didyouseeanybulletwounds?”

“Whydon’tyoureadmyreportfromtheinquest.”

“Ialreadyhave,atthecourthouse.”

“Well,heck,thenyou

knowMr.Hilltumbledintoastillofboilingoil.Bythetimesomeonenoticedandfishedhimout,aboutallthatwasleftwashisskeletonandbeltbuckle.Therestofhimdissolved...”Hepausedforabroadwink.“Now,thiswasn’tinmyreport:Hisbeltbucklelookedfine.”

“Howabouthisbones?Wereanybroken?”

“Fracturedfemur.Longknitted.Musthavebustedhis

legwhenhewasakid.”“Noholesinhisskull?”“JusttheonesGodput

thereforusalltoseeandhearandbreatheandeatandwhatnot.”

“Andnodamagetothevertebraeinhisneck?”

“ThatIcan’tsayforsure.”“Whynot?”“Idon’tunderstandwhat

thishastodowiththeCorporationsCommission...”

Bellsawnoreasonnottotakethecoronerandthejailerintohisconfidence.Ifthewordgotaround,someonemightcometohimwithmoreinformationaboutAlbertHill.Hesaid,“SeeingashowMr.HopewellwasshotwhileIwasdiscussingthecommissioninvestigationwithhim,Iaminterestedinrunningdownthetruthaboutthedeathsofotherindependentoilmen.”

“O.K.Igetyourpoint.”“Whycan’tyousayfor

surewhetherthevertebraeinMr.Hill’snecksuffereddamage?”

“Ididn’tfindallofthem.Thediscsandcartilagebetweenthemmusthavedissolvedandthebonesscattered.”

“Thatwasn’tinyourreport.”

“Itdidnotseempertinenttothecauseofdeath.”

“Didthathappentothevertebraeinhisspine?”

“Whatdoyoumean?”“Didhisthoracicand

lumbarvertebraeseparateand‘scatter’thewayyou’reassuminghiscervicalvertebraedid?”

Thedoctorfellsilent.Thenhesaid,“Nowthatyouask,no.Thespinewasintact.Aswasmostoftheneck.”

“Most?”“Twovertebraewere

attachedtotheskull.Fourwerestillconnectedtothespine—thethoracicvertebrae.”

“Howmanycervicalvertebraearethereinthehumanskeleton?Seven?”

“Seven.”“Sowe’remissingonly

one.”Thedoctornodded.“One.

Downinthebottomofthestill.Dissolvedbynow,ofcourse.Distilledintofueloil,

orkeroseneorgasoline,evenlubricants.”

“But...”“Butwhat,Mr.Bell?”“Doesn’titmakeyou

curious?”“Aboutwhat?”“Yousaytwocervical

vertebraewerestillattachedtotheskull.Sothemissingvertebrawouldbecervicalnumberthree,wouldn’tit?”

“Threeitwas.”“Wouldn’tyoulovetoget

aganderatcervicaltwoandcervicalfour?”

“Notreally.”“Iwould.”“Why?”“Let’sassumethatinstead

ofthedisccartilagedissolving,somethingknockedcervicalthreecleanoutofMr.Hill’svertebralcolumn.”

“Likewhat?”askedthecoroner,thenansweredhisownquestion.“...Likea

bullet.”“You’reright,”saidIsaac

Bell.“Itcouldhavebeenabullet...Aren’tyoutemptedtohavealook?”

“Theman’salreadyburiedintheground.”

Bellsaid,“I’dstillbetemptedtohavealook.”

“I’mstrictlyagainstdisinterringbodies.It’sjustamessofajob.”

“Butthispoorfellowwasjustaheapofbones.”

Dr.McGradenodded.“That’strue.Thoseboneslookedpolishedlikehe’dpassedahundredyearsago.”

“Goodpoint,”saidBell.“Whydon’twehavealook?”

“Icanlendyoushovels,”saidthejailer.

—ThecoroneratFortScott,arailroadtownwhereseverallinesconverged,wasa

powerfullybuiltyoungdoctorwithachiponhisshoulder.

IsaacBellasked,“Didyouseeanybulletwounds?”

“Ofcoursenot.”“Whydoyousay‘of

coursenot’?”“Readmytestimonytothe

coroner’sjury.”“Ihavereadit.”“Thenyouknowthat

ReedRiggswasmangledbeyondrecognitionafterfallingoffarailroadplatform

underalocomotive.”“Yes.But—”“Butwhat?”“Nothinginyourwritten

reportindicatesthatyoudidanymorethanwritedownwhattherailroadpolicetoldyou—thatMr.Riggsfellunderthelocomotivethatrolledoverhim.”

“Whatareyouimplying?”“Iamnotimplying,”said

IsaacBell,“Iamsayingforthrightlyandclearly—to

yourface,Doctor—thatyoudidnotexamineMr.Riggs’body.”

“Itwasamutilatedheapoffleshandbone.Hefellunderalocomotive.Whatdoyouexpect?”

“Iexpectapublicofficialwhoispaidtodeterminethecauseofacitizen’sdeathtolookbeyondtheobvious.”

“Now,listentome,Mr.PrivateDetective.”

“No,Doctor,youlistento

me!Iwantyoutolookatthatbodyagain.”

“It’sbeenburiedtwoweeks.”

“Digitup!”Thecoronerrosetohis

feet.HewasnearlyastallasIsaacBellandfortypoundsheavier.“I’llgiveyoufairwarning,mister,getlostwhileyoustillcan.IpaidmywaythroughmedicalschoolwithmoneyIwonintheprizering.”

Isaacshruggedoutofhiscoatandremovedhishat.“Aswehavenogloves,Ipresumeyou’llaccommodatemewithbareknuckles?”

—“Whatdidyoudotoyourhand?”askedArchieAbbott.

“Cutitshaving,”saidBell.“Whatdoyouthinkofthatwatertank?”

TheywerepacingFort

Scott’sSt.Louis–SanFranciscoRailwaystationplatformwhererefinerReedRiggshadfallentohisdeath.“Possible,”saidArchie,imaginingarifleshotfromthetopofatankintheFriscotrainyardtowheretheystoodontheplatform.“Ialsolikethatsignaltower.Infact,Ilikeitbetter.Goodanglefromtheroof.”

“Excepthowdidheclimbuptherewithoutthe

dispatchersnoticing?”“Climbedupinthedark

whileatrainrumbledby.”“How’dhegetdown?”“Waitedfornight.”“Butwhatifhemissedhis

shotandsomeonenoticedhim?Hewouldbetrappedwithnoescape.”

“You’resurethatRiggswasshot?”

“No,”saidBell,“notpositive.There’sdefinitelyaholeinhisskull.Inapieceof

thetemporalbone,whichwasn’tshattered.Butitcouldhavebeenpiercedbysomethingotherthanabullet.Bangedagainstarailroadspikeorachunkofgravel.”

“Whatdidthecoronerthink?”

“Hewasinclinedtoagreewithmyassessment.”

—BellandArchietookthetrain

downtoCoffeyville,aboomingrefinerytownjustabovetheKansas–IndianTerritoryborder.TheylocatedAlbertHill’srefineryandthetankinwhichHillhaddiedwhilerepairingtheagitator.

Theylookedforsightlines.Theyclimbedtotheroofoftheboilerhouse,fourhundredyards’distance,thentotheroofofthebarrelhouse.Bothoffered

uninterruptedshotsatthetank.Thebarrelhousehaditsownfreightsidingtoreceivethelumbertrainsthatdeliveredwoodforthestaves.

“Ridesinandout,”saidArchie.

“I’dgofortheboilerhouse,”saidBell.“They’dneverhearashotovertheroarofthefurnaces.”

“Iftherewasashot.”“Itoldyou,”saidBell.

“AlbertHill’snumbertwo

cervicalvertebraappearedtohavebeennicked.”

Archiesaid,“BasedonhowhekilledSpikeHopewell,theassassiniscapableofhittingbothHillandRiggs.Buthe’soneluckyassassinthatnoonesawhim.Orcoollydeliberateinchoosinghismoment.”

IsaacBelldisagreed.“ThatmaybetrueofAlbertHill.ButwhenRiggswasshot,thetimingwasdictated

bytheapproachofthelocomotive.Inbothcases,theshotswerefiredbyamarksmanascalculatingandaccurateasthekillerwhoshotSpikeHopewell.”

“Iftherewereshotsfiredatall,”saidArchie,andWallyKisleyagreed,saying,“Therecouldhavebeenshots,andshotswouldexplainhowthevictimshappenedtofall,buttheycouldhavejustaseasilyfallenasSpike

HopewellsuggestedtoIsaac:onedrunk,oneovercomebyfumes.”

Bellsaid,“IhaveGradyForrerlookingintotheirbackgrounds.”ForrerwasheadofVanDornResearch.

—IsaacBellwentlookingforEdnaMattersHockandfoundherloadinghertentontoherbuckboard.Hegavehera

hand.“Whereyouheaded?”“Pittsburgh.”“Inawagon?”“Pittsburgh,Kansas.”“Iwasgoingtoaskcould

youprintmethataerialphotographyoursistersnapped,butyou’vepackedyourKodakmachine...”

“Actually,Imadeanextra.Ithoughtyou’dasktoseeit.”

Shehaditinanenvelope.ShehandedittoBell.“Oh,

there’sasecondphotographthatNellietookbeforethefire.Soyouhaveabeforethefireandanafter.”

“Sheflewoverbefore?”“Bycoincidence.Shewas

hopingtoaddressaconventioninFortScott,butthewindchangedandtheballoondriftedoverhere.Ihopethepictureshelp.”

Bellthankedherwarmly.“Speakingofcoincidence,”hetoldher,“myfatherserved

asanintelligenceofficerintheCivilWarandhetriedtotakeballoondaguerreotypesofConfederatefortifications.”

“I’veneverseenanaerialoftheCivilWar.”

“Hesaidthattheswayingmotionblurredthepictures.Whenthewindsettleddown,arebelshotthecameraoutofhishands.”

“Quiteadifferentwarstory.”

“Actually,”Bellsmiled,

“herarelytalkedaboutthewar.Theveryfewtimeshedid,hetoldahumoroustale,liketheballoon.”

“Ireallymustgo.”Hehelpedherontothe

wagon.“Itwasapleasuremeetingyou.Ihopetoseeyouagain.”

EdnaMattersHockgavehimalonglookwithhergray-greeneyes.“Iwouldlikethat,Mr.Bell.Letushopeithappens.”

“Whereareyougoingnext?”

“AfterPittsburgh,I’mnotsure.”

“IfIweretowirethepapersometime,perhapstheycouldputusintouch.”

“I’lltellthemto,”shesaid.

Theyshookhands.“Oh,pleasesaygood-byetoMr.Abbott.”

Bellpromisedhewould.Ednaspoketothemuleandit

trottedoff.Belltookthephotographs

toWallyKisley.Wallygavealowwhistle.

“Fascinating.I’veneverhadalooklikethisbefore.”

ThephotographNellieMattershadsnappedafterthefirelookedlikeraindropsonamudpuddle.Allthatwasleftofthestoragetankswerecircularpockmarksintheground.Thebrickfurnacesoftherefinerystoodlikeruined

castles.Thesteelpotswerewarped,stavedin,orcompletelyflattened.Theremainsofthederrickslookedlikebonesscatteredbywildanimals.

Thepictureshehadtakenbeforethefirewasshroudedinsmoke,butSpike’srefinerystilllookedalmostasorderlyasanarchitect’sblueprint.WhatstoodoutwasthelogicofHopewell’sdesigntoefficientlymovethecrudeoil

throughtheprocessofbrewinggasoline.

“Nowyousee,Isaac,theycouldn’thavepickedabettertanktoblow.Lookatthis.”

“Buttheirtargetwasthegasolinetank.Whydidn’ttheyblowitfirstoff?”

“Couldn’tgettoit.Outintheopenlikeitwas,inplainsight,there’snowaytolaytheexplosivesandsetupthetargetduck.Butlookhere.Theycouldnothavechosena

tankbetterpositionedforthefirstexplosiontostartthingsrolling.Someoneknowshisbusiness.”

—Ice-eyedMackFulton,anexpertonsafecrackers,arrivedfromNewYorkdressedinfunerealblack.HehadnewsforArchieAbbott.“JewelthieftheNewYorkcopsarecallingtheFifth

AvenueFliersoundsalottomelikeyourLaurenceRosania,inthathe’sgotaneyefortopqualityandbeauty.”

ThatcaughtArchie’sinterestbecauseRosaniawasknowntoleaveuglypiecesbehindregardlessofvalue.Theycomparednotes.LikethediscriminatingRosania,Mack’sFifthAvenueFlierrobbedsafesonmansions’upperfloors.

“NewYorkcopsthinkhe’sscalingwalls,butI’mwonderingifhe’stalkinghiswayupstairs,romancingtheladiesandcharmingthegents,likeyourguy.”

“How’dhegettheresofast?”askedArchie.ArecentrobberyinNewYorkhadtakenplacelessthanadayafteraRosania-soundingjobinChicago.

“20thCenturyLimited?”“Ifhe’spulledoffhalfthe

jobswethink,hecanaffordit.”

“HegetstoplaytheNewYorkandChicagofencesoffeachother,too.Bargainuptheprice.Thatremindsme,Isaac.IbroughtyouanotefromGradyForrer.”

BelltoreopentheenvelopefromResearch.

Buttohisdisappointment,ForrerhadnotdiscoveredanyspecialconnectionsbetweenSpikeHopewell,AlbertHill,

andReedRiggs—nomutualpartners,noknownfeuds.Alltheyhadincommonwasbeingindependentoilmen.Evenifallofthemwereshot,theshootingswerenotrelatedonapersonallevel.

“O.K.,”saidBell.“TheonlyfactIknowforsureisthatSpikeHopewellwasshot.Twoquestions,gents.Bywhom?Andwhy?”

Archiesaid,“Hopewellhadanenemywhohatedhim

enoughtokillandjusthappenedtobeacrackshotatsevenhundredyards.”

“Or,”saidMackFulton,“Hopewellhadanenemywhohatedhimenoughtohiresomeonetokillhimwhohappenedtobeacrackshotatsevenhundredyards.”

“Or,”saidWallyKisley,“Hopewellhadanenemywhohatedhimenoughtohireaprofessionalassassintokillhimwhoseweaponofchoice

wasariflewithaneffectiverangeofoversevenhundredyards.”

Bellsaid,“I’mbettingonWally’sprofessional.”

“That’sbecauseaprofessionalmakesitmorelikelythatyourothertwovictimswereactuallyshot.But,ohboy,Isaac,you’retalkingaboutamazingshooting.”

“Forthemoment,let’sagreetheywereshot.Who’s

themastermind?”“Allthreeindependentoil

menwerebattlingStandardOil.”

“WasHopewellaCongregationalistbyanychance?”WallyKisleyasked.HegrinnedatMackFulton.Thejoke-crackingpartnerswereknownintheVanDornAgencyas“Weber&Fields,”forthevaudevillecomedians.

“Presbyterian.”“Toobad,”saidWally.

“WecouldhavearrestedRockefellerifhewas.”

ThenewspaperswerefullofstoriesaboutaCongregationalistConvocationinBostonthathadturneddownamillion-dollardonationbyJohnD.RockefellerbecauseRockefeller’smoneywas“tainted.”

“Thatmoneysureistainted,”chorusedWallyandMack.“’Tain’tyours!’Tain’t

mine!”“Listenclose,”saidBell,

grinning.“ThelastwordsHopewellsaidtomewasthathehadwhathecalledtricksuphissleevetobuildhistidewaterpipeline.WallyandMack,talktoeveryoneinKansaswhoknewhim.Findouthisplan.”

“Yougotit,Isaac.”“Archie?RundownBig

PeteStraub.FindoutwherehewaswhenSpikewasshot.

FindoutifmaybeIwingedhimwithmyWinchester.Butwatchyourself.”

“Thankyou,Mother.ButIthinkIcanhandlehim.”

“That’syourcall,”Bellshotbackfirmly,“ifhe’salone.Butifhe’srunningwithabunch,getaholdofWallyandMackbeforeyoubracehim.I’llbebacksoonasIcan.”

“Whereyougoing,Isaac?”

“Washington,D.C.”“Butyoudon’thave

anythingtoreport.”“I’mnotgoingtoreport.”“Thenwhatareyougoing

for?”“ToshakeuptheBoss.”

B7

y1905theVanDornDetectiveAgencyspannedthe

continent,withfieldofficesinmajorcitiesandmanytowns.ItmaintainednationalheadquartersatthePalmerHouseinChicago,whereJosephVanDornhad

foundedthefast-growingoutfit.ButVanDornhimself—gamblingthataprivatedetectiveagencywithanationalreachcouldprofitbycontractingitsservicestoafederalgovernmentill-equippedtohuntmoderncriminalsacrossstatelines—spentmoreandmoretimeinhisWashington,D.C.,fieldoffice.

ItwasatthenewandunabashedlylavishWillard

Hotel,twoblocksfromtheWhiteHouse,andIsaacBellnotedthatithadgrownbyseveralmoreroomssincehislastvisit.HecreditedtheBoss’swarmingfriendshipwithPresidentRoosevelt,hisindustriouscourtingofthepowerswhoruledtheJusticeDepartmentandtheU.S.Navy,hishonestname,hiscolorfulreputation,broadcastinSundaysupplementfeatures,andhisIrishcharm.

VanDorn’sprivateofficewasasumptuouswalnut-paneledinnersanctumdesignedtomakebankers,industrialists,senators,andcabinetsecretariesfeelathome.Itwasequippedlikethenervecenterofagreatrailroad,withnumeroustelephones,voicetubes,anelectricintercom,aself-windingstockticker,andatelegraphkeyfortheagency’sprivatewire.

WindowsontwosidesofferedapreviewofclientsandinformantsarrivingonPennsylvaniaAvenueor14thStreet,andithadaspyholeforsizingupprospectsinthereceptionroom.

TheBosswasalarge,solidmaninhisfortieswithafriendlysmilethatcouldturncoldinaflash.Hewasbald,hisskullashiny,highdome,hischeeksandchinthickwithredwhiskers.Bristlybrows,

redashisbeardandsideburns,shadedhiseyes.Onlywhenheopenedthemwidetostareamanfullinthefacedidherevealenormousintelligenceandcolossaldetermination.Hecouldbemistakenforawell-offbusinessman.Criminalswhomadethatmistake,andtheywerelegion,weremarchedoffinhandcuffs.

VanDornglancedupatIsaacBellwithgenuine

affection.Hewasleaningoverthe

mouthpieceofoneofthethreecandlesticktelephonesonhisdesk,withonemeatyfistpressingtheearpiecetohisear.Theothergrippedavoicetubeintowhichheissuedaterserequest.Hereplacedthevoicetubestopper,roaredordersintothetelephone,bangedtheearpiecebackonitshook,snatchedupanother

telephoneandpurred,“SenatorStevens,IcannotrecallsuchhospitalityaswasextendedbyyouandMrs.Stevensthispastweekend...”

Asecretary,invest,bowtie,andshoulder-holstered,double-actionColt,hurriedin,placedatypewrittenletteronthedesk,exchangedcylindersintheDeVeauDictaphone,andhurriedoutwiththefullone.

“...Thankyou,Senator.IhopeyoucanjoinmeforlunchattheCosmosClub...Oh,yes,Ibelong.IcanassureyouthatnoonewasmoresurprisedthanIwhentheytappedmetojoin.Whoknowswhatthemembershipcommitteewasthinking...Ilookforwardtoseeingyounextweek.”

Hereturnedtheearpiecetoitshookandsignedtheletteronhisdesk.

“Goodtoseeyou,Isaac.”“Goodmorning,sir.

You’relookingprosperous.”“Busyasaone-armed

paperhanger.WhatbringsyoubackfromKansas?”

“Whatmaysound,atfirst,likeastrangerequest.”

“I’lljudgewhatisstrange.Whatdoyouwant?”

“IwantyoutoinveigleJohnD.Rockefellerintohiringtheagencytoarrestthemarksmanwhomurdered

SpikeHopewell.”VanDornsatbackand

regardedthetalldetectivespeculatively.

“Thatisstrange...evenbyyourstandards.WhywouldRockefellerdothat?Heknowswe’reinvestigatinghimfortheCorporationsCommission.”

“IbroughtyouthelatestnewspapersfromTopekaandKansasCity.”

BellspreadtheKansas

Watchman,theKansasCityJournal,andtheKansasCityStaronVanDorn’sdeskandshowedhimtheheadlinesaboutthemurderofSpikeHopewell.Thenheopenedthemtotheeditorials.

VanDornreadquickly.“They’rehowlingforRockefeller’shide.They’repracticallyclaimingthatRockefellerpulledthetrigger.Dotheyknowsomethingaboutthepresidentof

StandardOilthatwedon’t?”“Rockefellerdidnotshoot

anyone,ofcourse.ButthekillingismakinghimlookevenworsethanthepeopleofKansasthoughthewas.AndsinceStandardOillockeduptheirpipelinesandtheirtankcars—andtheywerealreadymadashornetsaboutcrudedroppingtoseventycentsabarrelandkerosenejumpingtoseventeencentsagallon—theyequatehimwiththe

devil.”VanDornlookeddubious.

“You’resuggestingthatifwecatchthekilleratRockefeller’sbehest,itwillimprovehisreputation.”

“AccordingtoE.M.Hock,hehasaslewofpublicistsonhispayrolltoimprovehisreputation.Beingblamedformurdercan’tbemakingtheirjobanyeasier.”

“It’sathought,”VanDornsaidcautiously.“I’llmullit

over.”Bellknewfrom

experiencethatVanDorn’smullingcouldtakealongtime.Heimmediatelysaid,“We,too,wouldcomeoutsmellinglikeroses.”

“Howso?”“Mr.Rockefeller’sfellow

magnatesandtycoonswatchhiseverymovelikehungrywolves.TheywillnotethegoodworktheVanDornsdoforhimandrememberusthe

nexttimetheyneedadetectiveagency.AswillyourfriendsattheJusticeDepartment.AndtheNavy.EventheTreasuryDepartment—ifIrecallcorrectly,SenatorStevenschairstheCommitteeonFinance.”

“True,”VanDornnodded.“Alltrue.I’llseewhatIcando.I’llhavetothinkonwhichwirestotryandpull.”

“Ihaveanideafora

differentapproach,”Bellsaid.VanDorn’shighbrow

beetled.“I’mbelatedlygainingtheimpressionthatyoucamehereloadedforbear.”

“Rockefellerpaysso-calledcorrespondentstospyforhim.Youcanbethe’sgotplentyinCongress,andprobablyevensomedeepinsidetheCorporationsCommission.Inaddition,heisableto‘listenin’on

telegramscarriedonhispipelines’privatewires.”

“IamawarethatRockefellerunderstandsthepowerofinformationmorethananyotherbusinessmaninthecountry.TheWarDepartmentandtheSecretServicecouldtakelessonsfromhisbook.What’syour‘differentapproach’?”

“Whatifweweretocausethewordtodriftbacktohimthatpeopleareconvincedthe

assassinworksforStandardOil?”

“How?”“Wecouldhavepeople

passrumorstohiscorrespondents.Wecouldeveninsertfalsemessagesontheprivatelines.”

“AllthattogiveRockefellertheimpressionthatthepublicbelievesthatStandardOilhiredanassassin?”

“Atwhichpointweask

forthejobofcatchingtheassassin.Andwhilewe’rehuntinghim,wewillalsobeinapositiontocollectevidenceforthecommissionfrominsidetheStandard.”

“LikeaTrojanhorse?”askedtheBoss.

IsaacBellsmiled.“Icouldnotputitbettermyself.”

—BigPeteStraubwasnot

easilyimpressed.Hissheersizeawedmostmen.Theycrossedthestreetwhentheysawhimcrowdasidewalk,backedupwhenheenteredaroom,ranwhenhereachedforapickhandle.Hewasaccustomedtotheirfearanditmadehimscornful.Whatsethimapartfromsaloonbrawlers,andraisedhimhighabovetheirranks,washisabilitytodistinguishthosefewmenofunusualpoweror

abilitythatheshouldnotfrighten.Heknewhowtosayyes,sir,toamanwhocouldhelphimandsoundlikehemeantit.

Thelittleguywiththeriflewasoneofthose.Heseemedrich.Orrichenough.Hepaidgenerously,tentimeswhatPeteearnedfromtheStandard’sindustrialservicefirm.Ingold,theminutethejobwasdone.Hespokerarelyandneverloudly—one

whisperedwordinsteadoftwo—andneverifagesturewoulddo.Hewasasalertasawolf,intenselyawareofwhatwasgoingonaroundhim.Hewaspatient;hecouldsitalldaywaitingforashot.Andwhenthingsflewapart,heneverlosthisnerve.

ButwhatmadetheassassinsospecialtothehulkingStandardOilthugwasthathewassomethingtowatch.Inhishands,thesleek,

hammerlessSavage99lookeddeadlyasarattlesnake.Thereweretimes,BigPetethought,youcouldnottellwherehisfingersstoppedandthebluesteelbegan.Heworegloves,blackgloves,tightasasecondskin,withatinypatchcutoutwherehisfingertouchedthetrigger.Heworeahatwithaslightlyabbreviatedbrim,whichStraubwassurehehadhadspeciallymadesoit

wouldshadetheeyepieceofthetelescopebutnotgetinhisway.Heworeadarkscarf,likeacowboybandanna,aroundhisthroatthatcoveredhisneckandhischin.

Andcouldtheguyshoot!HecouldkillpeopleStraubcouldn’tevensee.Sure,hehadatelescope,butitwasmorethanthepowerfulglass,morelikesomethingoutofamagicshow.Whenhisbullet

leftthegun,ittraveledsureasaflierontherails,acertainconnectionbetweenhistriggerfingerandhistarget’shead.

TheassassingesturedforBigPetetofirefirst.Hiseyeswereempty,hisriflesteady.

ThiswasthefirsttimeBigPetehadfiredalongsidethemarksman.Inthepasthehadcoveredtheescaperoutetothrowoffpursuit,iftherewasany,anddrawfireashehad

whentheVanDornschasedhiminHopewell,Kansas.ButhereinSoutheastTexas,intheboomtownofHumble,theywerecrouchingsidebysideonaflatroofbehindthefalsefrontofatallsaloon.Planningstep-by-stepasalways,theassassinhadchosenshootingholesinthecurlicue-carvedtopoftheornatefront.

Straub’sjobwastofirefirsttobreakawindow.His

handsweresteady,buthecouldfeelhispalmsgettingwet.Hewasadecentshot.TheboltactionSpringfield’03wasagoodweapon.Andhistargetwasfullytwofeetsquare.

C.C.Gustafson—editoroftheHumbleClarion,who’dbeenmakingacareerofcriticizingStandardOilpracticesinTexasandprovokingthelegislaturetoexpelthetrustfromthestate

—wasstandingbehindthewindowsettingtype.

BigPeteaimedattheblood-reddotofhisbowtie.

“Don’ttrytohithim,”whisperedtheassassin.

“Iknow,”saidStraub.“Justbreaktheglass.”Howhadtheassassinknownwherehewasaiming?Theguymissednothing.Straubshiftedtherifleandsighteddeadcenterinthewindow.Heheardtheassassintakea

shallowbreathandholdit.“Now!”BigPetesqueezedhis

trigger.TheSpringfieldboomed.Glassflew.Theeditorlookedup,

wastedahalfbreathstaring,thentriedtodivebehindthepress.

Theassassin’sSavagegaveasharpcrack.Theeditortumbledbackward.Then,toStraub’ssurprise,theassassin

firedagain.Nextsecond,theywererunning,crouched,acrosstheroof,thendowntheladdertothealleybehindthesaloon.

“Goodshot!”Straubexulted.

“Missed,”saidtheassassin,hisvoiceemotionless.

Amansteppedaroundthecorner.Hehadunbuttonedhisflyasifabouttourinateonthewall.Squintingaroundfor

thesourceofthegunshots,hesawtwomenrunningtowardhimwithrifles.

“Killhim,”saidtheassassin.

Straubbrokehisneck.Theassassingestured.Straubslungthebody

overhisshoulderandtheyran,followingtheescaperoutetheyhadrehearsed.Aftertheyhadputdistancebetweenthemandthesaloon,theassassingesturedtodrop

thedeadmanbesidearainbarrelontopofStraub’sSpringfield.

—GradyForrerofVanDornResearchsentIsaacBellatelegramtoalerthimtoashootinginfar-offTexasthatmightpossiblypertaintohisinvestigation.BellhadknownForrersinceJosephVanDornhadhiredhimtoestablishthe

ResearchDepartmentandtrustedhisjudgment.HeimmediatelywiredTexasWaltHatfield,theformidableVanDorndetective—aformerRanger,raisedbytheComanche—whooperatedasaone-manfieldofficeforthebiggeststateintheUnion.

REPORTEDITORSHOOTINGHUMBLEOIL?

B8

illMattersreadandrereadadozennewspaperreports

aboutatransatlanticcableJohnD.RockefellerhadsentfromCannes,France,tohisFifthAvenueBaptistChurchSundayschoolclass.TheNewYorkandCleveland

papershadpublishedthecablebackinJanuarywhenhewasabroad,andithadbeenprintedandreprintedthroughthespringaspaperafterpaperusedthegreatman’swisdomtoinspirethedevoutandfillspace.

“Delightfulbreezes.Ienjoywatchingthefishermenwiththeirnetsonthebeach,andgazinguponthesunrisingoverthebeautifulMediterraneanSea.Thedays

passpleasantlyandprofitably.”

ItwasanopensecretatStandardOilheadquartersthatpublicistsschemingtofurbishupRockefeller’sreputationplantedstoriesinthenewspapers.ButMatterssuspectedtherewasmuchmoretothiscablethanpolishingthepublicimageofagreedytycoonintoaglowingexampleofthepleasantoldageeveryone

lookedforwardto.AdeepfeelinggnawedhisgutthatRockefellerhadtransmittedcodedmessagestohiselderlypartnersaboutasecretdealhewasnegotiatingoverseasunderthecloakofaretireetravelingaroundEurope.

Whateverthepiratewasupto,Matterswantedinonit.

Mattershimselfwasnostrangertocodedmessages.Hecommunicatedwithhisassassinwithcryptic

instructionsinthewantadsofdailynewspapers.Hefeltsostronglythatthiscablewasbig—somethinghuge,thesortofdealthesupposedlyretiredpresidenthadtimetopursuethankstounderlingslikehimtakingoverday-to-dayoperations—thathedecidedtoriskconsultingaclandestinepartnerhehadcultivatedamonghisfellowmanagers.

OldClydeLapham,an

earlyStandardOilpartner,waslosinghisgriptodementia.Whentheothersrealizedhewasnolongerstrikingahighbattingaverage,theyhadbegunexcludinghimfromprivatedeals.Laphamknew,orsensedenoughofwhatwashappeningtoaccept,warily,thekindnessandrespectthatthemuch-younger,vigorousMatterspretendedtooffer.

Laphamsaidhesuspected

asecretdeal,too,whenMattersbroachedthesubject.Stungthathehadnotbeeninvitedtopartake,hetranslatedthebasicsofthemessageoverasupperMattersinvitedhimtoatMcdonald’sOysterHouseupbyBleeckerontheBowery,wherenoonewouldrecognizethem.Mattersorderedwinetoloosenhimup.Lapham’svagueeyeskeptlockingontheempty

littleneckclamshellsasiftheyheldsomesecret.Hehadathinvoice.

“‘Delightfulbreezes’meansbigchangesareunderway,”hereportedmatter-of-factly.“‘Ienjoywatchingthefishermenwiththeirnetsonthebeach’meansthatMr.Rockefellerisspyingoncompetitors.”

Buttheoldmanwasbaffledby“gazinguponthesunrisingoverthebeautiful

MediterraneanSea.”Pawingpurposefullyacrossthetable,hepickedupanemptyclamshellandexamineditclosely.

“SirMarcusSamuel’sfathergothisstartsellingthese.”

“Sellingwhat?”“Seashells.OldMarcus

Seniorimportedorientalseashells,soldthemtopeopledecoratingtheirhouses.WheredidyouthinkJunior

gotthemoneytoinventhisgoddamnedoiltankers?”

SirMarcusSamuel,whohadpioneeredafleetofbulk-oil-carryingsteamers,commandedtheirpowerfulEnglishcompetitor,ShellTransportandTrading.Therichestdistributorofrefinedoil,incanspackedinwoodencases,toIndiaandChina,SamuelhadruncirclesaroundthemightyStandardformorethanadecadeand

hadrecentlyincreasedhissalesforcebyformingtheAsiaticPetroleumCompanywiththeRoyalDutchCompany.

MattersregainedLapham’sattention,withsomeeffort,andcoaxedhimtoconcentrateon“Thedayspasspleasantlyandprofitably.”

Laphamfinallysaidthathebelievedthat“Thedayspasspleasantlyand

profitably”meantthatRockefellerwaslayinggroundworkforhisnextmove.Hepickedupanothershell.

“Whatmove?”Mattersasked.

Laphamshrugged.“ThesunrisingoverthebeautifulMediterraneanSearisesintheeast.”

Ofcourse!TherichBakuoilfieldsontheCaspianSeathatpumpedhalftheworld’s

oilwereintheeast.ChaosthreatenedBaku.January’sBloodySundaymassacreattheRussianczar’sWinterPalaceinSt.PetersburghadinflamedrevolutionaryunrestandMuslim–Christianhatredsimultaneously.Civilwarthreatenedtheoilfields.

Inthatinstant,BillMattershadtorestrainhimselffromlungingacrossthetabletokissLapham’swrinkledhand.Thelooney

oldmanhaddonehimahugefavorandrippedthescalesfromhiseyes.Hehadbeenthinkingtoosmall.Waytoosmall.HesuddenlysawtheworldasRockefellerdid.

ThatitwasdefinitelycodegalvanizedMatters.Hemadeaneducatedguessbasedinpartonthesixyearshe’dbeencirclingtherimoftheinnercircleoftheStandardOilGangandbasedinpartonaperceptiveanalysisbythe

assassinwhospeculatedthatRockefellersensedanopportunitytobreakthestrangleholdthathisoverseasenemies—theNobelandRothschildfamiliesandSirMarcusSamuel—hadonRussianoil.

HowcouldRockefellernotbetemptedbythespoils?FightinganddestructioninBakuwouldshutdownhalftheworldsupplyandthepriceofoilwoulddoubleor

tripletotwo,tothree,tofourdollarsabarrel,pricesthathadn’tbeenseenindecades.Americanoilmenwouldcheer.ButJohnD.Rockefellerwasnoordinaryoilman.

Wouldn’theimaginemuch-richerspoilsthanatemporaryjumpinprice?Wouldn’theseethechaosofcivilwarasanopportunitytodisplacetheRothschilds,overthrowtheNobels,sink

Shell,andownitall?BillMattersknewinhis

gutthatthiswasthechancehehadbeenworkingfor.Somethingthisbigwouldnevercomeagain.WhateverRockefellerwasschemingintheeast,Mattershadtomakehimselfpartofit.

Hissuccessthusfar,sincejoiningtheStandard—hisgrowingwealthandpowerwithinthecorporation,thoughstillnotintheinner

circle—provedhehadbeenrighttobankonthesecrecythatpervadedthetrust.Secretshadgivenhimroomtooperate,ashadthemadcapdistractionofeveryonefromRockefellerondownwhowerebusygettingricher.

Businesswasroaring.Newmarketswereenormous:fuelforshipsandpowerplants,gasolinetofeedtheautomobileboom.Butsupply,too,wasgrowing;

vastnewoilfieldsinKansas,Oklahoma,Texas,Mexico,andCaliforniasurpassedtheoldPennsylvania,Ohio,andIndianafields.ItwasbecomingimpossiblefortheStandardtocontrolproductiontokeeppriceshigh.Competingproducers—GulfOilandtheTexasCompany—werespringingtolifeevenasthemonopolycameunderincreasingfirefromProgressivereformers

determinedtobreakupthetrust.Rockefellerhimselfwasdistractedbythegovernmentprosecutionandequallybyhisattemptstorepairhisreputationbybecomingaphilanthropist.

Thepressurewasontheoldpresidenttodosomething.

ThustheBakupush.

—

BillMattersapproachedwhite-hairedAverellComstock,achartermemberofthe“gang”whooftenprofitedfromprivatedeals.“Ihaveaschemeforajointadventure.”

“Whatsortofscheme?”“Aprivatepartnership

withyouandMr.RockefellertopersuadetheRussiangovernmenttoletStandardOilbuildnew,modernrefineriesandrefurbishthe

oldonesownedbyRothschildandNobel.”

Comstockwasimmediatelysuspicious.

“Wheredidyougetthatidea,Bill?It’sasifyoureadourminds.”

Mattersfelthisspiritssoar.Hehadguessedrightaboutalotofthings.

Heansweredmodestly,“I’manoldwildcatdriller.Goodatguessing.Besides,Irecallthatin’03Mr.

RockefellerconsideredropinginSt.PetersburgbankstobuyBakuoilfields.”

“Areyousureyouhaven’tbeeneavesdroppingontelephonecalls?”

“Quitesure,Mr.Comstock.”AccordingtoClydeLapham,thiswasnotthefirsttimeRockefellerhadsetsightsontheCaucasus.Backin’98,StandardOilsentgeologiststosurveyforcommercialoilreservesin

Azerbaijan.“Ortappingwires?”“Iwouldn’tknowhowto

begintotapwires,”Matterslied.

“Whatelsehaveyou‘guessed’?”

Matterstookhisbestshot.“WhatifIweretoproposetoyouaplantobeatSirMarcusSamuelatshippingcaseoiltoAsia?”

Comstockglared.So-calledcaseoilwaskerosene

shippedingallontinspackedinwoodenboxes.TheAsianmarketwasenormous.ChineseandIndiansburnedtheoilintheirlampsandusedthewoodandtintobuildtheirhuts,shingletheirroofs,makecookingpotsandpitchers.SirMarcusSamuel,theall-powerfulEnglishdistributorofcaseoiltoIndiaandChina,hadvisitedtheseofficesingreatsecrecyin1901tonegotiatesomesort

ofpartnership.MatterswasgamblingthatRockefellerandComstockwishedtheirtalkshadpannedout.

“Mr.Rockefellerprefersknowingtoguessing,”saidComstock.

BillMattersstoodhisground.“Iamnotguessing.”

Comstockwasscornful.“LetmeremindyouthatStandardOilhasnotmanagedtobeatSamuelinfifteenyears.Theconniving

EnglishmanparlayedpreferentialtreatmentfromtheSuezCanalintothebiggesttanksteamerfleettoAsia.”

“IknowhowtobeatSamuel,”BillMattersshotback.

“How?”“BypasstheSuezCanal.”“BypasstheSuez?”

Comstockturnedmorescornful.“Haveyouanyideahowlongittakesatankship

tosteamaroundAfrica?Whydoyousupposetheydugacanal?”

“BypasstheTranscaucasusRailroad,too,”Mattersshotback.“AndBatum.AndtheBlackSea.AndtheDardanelles,Constantinople,andtheMediterranean.”

“Poppycock!HowthedevilcouldweshipkerosenetoIndiaandChina?”

“Buildapipelinefrom

BakutothePersianGulf.”“Apipeline?...”

Comstock’sfacewasamask.Buthiseyesgrewbusy.“Tooambitious.Persiaismountainousandbedeviledbywarlordsandrevolutionaries.”

“NomoreambitiousthanourpipelinesacrossPennsylvania’smountainstotheAtlanticseaboard,”Mattersanswered,choosinghiswordscarefully.Hishated

rivalshadneverbuiltaninchofpipeline,themselves,butstolenhis.

Comstockshookhishead.“GreatBritainwillfightaRussianlinktotheGulfeveryinchoftheway.”

“Don’tyouthinkStandardOilshouldfightbackforhalftheoilintheworldandallthemarketsofAsia?”

Comstock’sfaceremainedamask.Eventually,heclosedhishandsinadoublefistand

gazedatMattersoverhisinterlockedknuckles.“WereMr.Rockefellertoapproveapipeline,hemightinviteyoutojoinasajuniorpartnerintheenterprise.”

AverellComstockwouldofcoursebeafullpartner.Mattershadbracedhimselftopretendhumbleacquiescenceandhesaid,“Iwouldbedeeplyhonored.”

Infact,hewasthrilled—notforajuniorpartnership

butfortheaccesshewouldgaintothepresident.Comstockmayhavehisdoubts,buthealsosensedthatthepipelinewasaboldideathatRockefellerwouldseizeupon.Inwhichcase,Comstockfearedtheideawouldgettothepresidentfromsomeoneelseunlesshemovedquickly.

Mattersremindedhimselfnottogetcocky.OlderStandardOildirectors,who

jealouslyguardedtheirpower,werethesmartestinAmericanindustry.TherewerewisemenamongthemwhomightintuitMatters’plot,mightguessthatforBillMattersthepipelinewasonlythebeginning.

AstheassassinhadproclaimedaftershootingSpikeHopewell,thosewhogettooclosewillbekilled.

—BillMatterssummonedtheassassintohisprivaterailcar.

“Word’scomefromTexasthatC.C.Gustafsondidnotdie.”

“I’mnotsurprised.Hewasquickaslightning.Istruckhimtwice,butneithershotfeltright.”

“Whathappened?”“Fateintervened,”the

assassinsaidblithely,but,unabletoabideadeepsenseoffailure,addedinavoicesuddenlydark,“Iammortified...Ipromiseyouthatsuchafailurewillneveragainoccur.Never.”

“Don’tworryaboutGustafson.Theeffectoftheattackisthesameasifhehaddied.They’llblameStandardOil.”

Theassassin’sspiritscontinuedtofall.“Ihave

promisedmyselfonmymother’sgravethatIwillnevermissagain.Never.”

Matterssaid,“Ineedsomethingnewfromyou.Somethingquitedifferent.”

Theassassinleanedcloser,intrigued.“Howdifferent?”

“Someoldonesmustdie.”“Comstock?”“Yes.He’sbringingmy

pipelineschemetoRockefeller.Afterhedoes,I

needhimoutofmyway.”“AndoldLapham?”“No,notLapham.”“GodknowswhatClyde

Laphamremembers,”theassassinwarneddarkly.“Butwhateverhedoesrememberwillbetoomuch.”

“Notyet!IneedLapham.”“O.K.OnlyComstock.

Forthemoment.Whatisdifferent?”

“Hisdeathmustappeartobenatural.Nosniping.No

suspicionofmurder.”“Milesaheadofyou,”the

assassincrowed—spiritssoaringassuddenlyhighasaskyrocket—andwhippedoutofavestpocketaredvial.

—FromHumble,Texas,WaltHatfieldwiredIsaacBellattheWashingtonfieldoffice.

C.C.GUSTAFSONVEXEDSTANDARD

WINGEDNOTDEADYETSHERIFF’SSUSPECTDEAD

IsaacBellracedtoCentralStation.TheWashington&SouthwesternLimitedwasfullybooked,butapassgivenhimbyaprepschoolclassmate’srailroadpresidentfathergotBellintoaseatreservedforfriendsofthecompany.Everyone,theconductortoldhim,seemed

tobegoingtoTexas.Inthesmoker,hedranka

ManhattancocktailthatwasexactlythecolorofEdnaMatters’fine,wispyhair.AndfromwhathehadglimpsedofNellie,herstoo.HeorderedanotherandraisedtheglasstosaluteThomasJefferson’sMonticello,whichthetrainpassedbyinthedyingdaylight.Heateagrilledrockfishinthediningcar,andsleptinaPullman

PalacesleeperthattheLimitedpickedupinDanville,Virginia.

Twenty-sevenhourslater,aVanDornapprenticefromtheNewOrleansfieldofficeranintoUnionTerminalwithanotherwirefromTexasWalt.

SHERIFF’SDEADSUSPECTCLEAREDC.C.GUSTAFSONAWAKE

IsaacBellswungaboardthewestboundSunsetExpress.

BOOKTWO

POISONTEXAS

H9

ummbuuulll,Texas!”bawledtheconductor.“Humble,

Texas!Nextstop,Humble,Texas!”

IsaacBellwasfirstatthevestibuledoor,aheadofacrowdofexcitedspeculatorsjostlingbehindhim.Thestill-

speedingtrainleanedintoahardbendinthetracks,andheglimpsedsomethingthatmadehimopenthecorridorwindowtoleanoutinthehumidheat.Hesawhundredsofoilderrickssurroundedbygiantcrudestoragetanks.Asprawlingboomtownoffresh-builtbarracks,boardinghouses,hotels,saloons,anda“ragtown”sectionoftentscrowdedbothsidesofthemainlinetracks.

Thesidingsandrailyardswereblackwithrowsoftankcars.

ButwhathadcaughttheVanDorndetective’seyewasfloatinginthesmoke-stainedskyabovethetown—NellieMatters’yellowballoonwiththeblockletteringonthebulgeofthegasenvelopethatreadVOTESFORWOMEN.Wherehadshecomefrom?Bellwondered.Moretothepoint,hadherbeautifulsister

Ednacomewithher?Thegroundshook

suddenlyattheverymomenttheSunsetExpresspulledintothemakeshiftstationwithclangingbellandhissingairbrakes.ThetrackstrembledandthePullmancarsrattledandeveryoneonthetrainrantothewindows.Afountainofoilspewedfromthetopofaderrick.Thefountainrapidlythickened.Thunderingoutoftheearth,

theeruptionblewthederricktosplintersandprojectedskywardnearlyashighasNellieMatters’balloon.

Bellgavetheroaringspouteranditsgreasybrownsprayawideberth,judgingthewindbythedirectionNellie’sballoonwastuggingtheropethattethereditabovethefairground.Mostofthatdustyfieldhadbeenturnedintoa“ragtown”takenupbytents.Inthesmallopenspace

thatremained,fiftywomeninwhitesummerdresseswerewavingEQUALSUFFRAGELEAGUESOFHOUSTONANDHUMBLEbannersatNellie’sballoon.

BellhurriedpastthefairgroundandcutdownMainStreetandintotheTopplingDerrick,theboomtown’sbiggestsaloon.WaitingaspromisedatthebarwasTexasWaltHatfield,atall,wiry,sun-blastedman

withtwinColtsix-shootersholsteredinlow-slunggunbeltsandabroad-brimmedJ.B.Stetsonhat.Besidehimstoodafeisty-lookinggentwithhisarminaslingandhisneckswathedinbandages.Hisfaceworethepallorofrecentshock,buthiseyeswerebright.

“Howdy,Isaac,”saidHatfield,shakinghandsascasuallyasiftheyhadlastworkedtogetheryesterday

insteadofayearago.“Thishere’sMr.C.C.Gustafson.”

“CraigGustafson,”saidthepublisher,thrustingouthisgoodhand.

“IsaacBell.Congratulationsonbeingalive.”

C.C.GustafsonprovedtobeasphilosophicalonthesubjectofgettingshotasanyBellhadmet.“Mylittlenewspaperisjustaflynippingatthehideof

StandardOil.Factis,I’mflatteredtheybotheredtoswatme.”

Bellasked,“Dowehavereasontobelievethat’swhoshotyou?”

“Idon’tknowforsurethisistrue,butIhaveavaguememoryforminginmymindthatIwastoldthataStandardOilRefineryPolicechiefarrivedonthetrainthedaybefore.ThatwouldhavebeenTuesday.Igotshoton

Wednesday.”“Canyourecallanylocal

enemieshereintownyoumighthaveprovoked?”

“Ihaven’tstolenanyhorsesandIhaven’tburnedanychurches,andIcanalsoeliminateangryhusbands,sinceIdon’trunaroundonmywife.”

IsaacBellglancedatthebarbed-wire-lean,hawk-nosedTexasWaltforconfirmation.

ThenormallylaconicformerRangersurprisedhimbydrawlingthelongestsentenceBellhadeverheardhimspeak:“AhhadthepleasureofmeetingJanetSue—thatistosay,Mrs.C.C.Gustafson—atthehospital,andAhcanreportthatthereain’tamaninTexaswhowouldentertainnotionsofrunningaroundonsuchalady.”

“IhaveirritatedStandard

Oilforyears,”saidGustafson,“andcurrentlycanclaimsomepartoftheeffortintheTexasStateHousetobanthemonopolisticvulturesfromdoingbusinessinourstate.”

Bellasked,“Whatdoyourememberoftheshooting?”

“Notaheckofalot,asIwasjusttellingWalt.It’scomingback,butslow.”

“Mr.Gustafsononlywokeupyesterdaymorning,”

HatfieldtoldBell.“I’msurprisedtheylet

yououtofthehospitalsosoon.”

“Mywifehasatheorythathospitalskillpeople,beingfullofsickpeoplewithinfections.ShemarchedmehomethesecondIcouldwalk.”

BellturnedtoHatfield.“Who’sthedeadsuspectthesheriffcleared?”

“Foundfacedownontop

ofaSpringfield’03withhisneckbusted.”

“Asifhefellwhilerunningtoescape?”

“Untilfriendsremarkedthathewasnearblindwithouthisglasses,whichhadgotbustedthatmorninginapokertabledispute.”

“Didyoumanagealookattherifle?”

Hatfieldsaid,“Thesheriffcooperated.Theriflesmelledrecentlyfired.Fourrounds

stillinthemagazine,whichholdsfive.”

“Telescope?”“Nope.”“Maybethat’swhythe

assassinmissed.”Bellturnedbacktothenewspaperpublisher.

“Canyoutellmewhatyouremember?”

“Thewindowbroke.Iwassettingtypeformyeditorialbythelightofthewindow.Allatonce,theglass

shattered.”“Whathappenednext?”“I’mafraidmyansweris

notgoingtohelpyou,DetectiveBell.WhathappenednextwasIwokeupinastrangebedwithmywifeholdingacoolclothtomybrow.Lookedaround.Waltwasstandingnearbywithhishandsonhisgunsasiftodiscourageadditionalpotshots.”

Bellasked,“Wouldyou

feeluptovisitingyournewspaper?”

“IwasheadingtherewhenWaltsuggestedwehaveasnort,andthenyouwalkedin.”

TheywalkedthelongwaytotheHumbleClarion,takingbackstreetsandalleystoskirtthemobcollectedaroundthegusher.Theriggerswerestrugglingtocapthenewwell,whileditchdiggersexcavatedacatchbasinto

containtheoilthatwasrainingdownlikeamonsoon.Thetrainhadgone.Mostofthemenaboardithadstayed.

TheClarionoccupiedthefirstfloorofacornerbuilding.C.C.Gustafsonledthemintothecomposingroomwherehesettype.“Itwasthatwindow,”hesaid.“Mywifereplacedtheglass,andfinishedsettingtheeditorialforme.Afterpickingupallthetypethatwent

flying.”Belllookedforbullet

holesinthewalls.Heremarkedthattheofficehadbeenfreshlypainted.

“JanetSuecleanedupthemesssoonasthesheriffwasdonelookingthingsover.”

“DidMrs.Gustafsonhappentomentionhowmanybulletholessheplasteredbeforepainting?”

“Shetoldmethree.”BelllookedtoHatfield.

“HowmanyroundshadbeenfiredfromtheSpringfieldthesherifffound?”

“One.”IsaacBellstoodinthe

window.Itfrontedonthesidestreet.Acrossthestreetwasaframebuildingunderconstruction.Carpentersbuildingtheplatformwerehammeringfloorboardsontoground-floorjoists.Theotherwise-openlotallowedalongviewoverlow-lying

neighborstothetallfalsefrontthattoppedthetwo-storyTopplingDerricksaloononthefarsideofMainStreetthreeblocksaway.

—AverellComstockwalkedataremarkablybriskpaceforamanhisagethanks,hewasquicktoboast,toaregimenhehadstartedwhenhefirstcametoNewYorktwenty

yearsago.Hewalkedeverymidmorningfromtheofficeat26BroadwaytotheEastRiver,wherehecouldorderoystersshuckedfreshofftheboat.Heignoredtheketchupandcrackers,preferringthebrinytasteofthebivalvesunadulterated,andleavingroomforcoffeeandcakefromafoodstallonFultonStreet,wherehehadfallenhalfinlovewithamiddle-agedwidowwhohadahard

facesoftenedbybeautifulblueeyes.

Shestirredinthesugarforhim.Justthisweekshehadbeguntoinsistonrefillinghiscupatnocharge,stirringinmoresugarwithaprettysmile.Whatwouldshethink,Comstockwondered,ifshelearnedthattheoldmanintheancientcoatwastenthousandtimesricherthananycustomershehadeverserved?

“Howareyoufeeling?”sheasked.

“Alittleundertheweather.”Forseveraldayshehadfeltnotquitehimself.

“Ithoughtyoulookedpale.Ihopeyou’venotbeeneatingoysters.Theysaythere’styphoidfever.”

“IeatonlythosefromStatenIsland,”hesaid.“It’stheJamaicaBayoystersthatcarrythetyphoid.”

“Well,Ihopeyoufeel

better.”“Wellenoughtowalk

downhere,”hesaid.“That’sallIask.”

Hedrainedthesecondcupandhurriedoff.“Backtothesaltmines.Seeyoutomorrow.”

Mrs.McCloudputanothersugarbowlonthecounterandhidtheonefromwhichshehadsweetenedtheoldman’scoffee.

“Makesureyouwashthe

spoon.”Mrs.McCloudlookedup.

Themanintheold-fashionedfrockcoatandfancytrilbyhatwasback,furtiveandcold-eyedasasteererwhosendsclientstoashysterlawyer.

“What’sinit?”sheasked.“Whatdoyoucare?”SheglancedupFultonfor

anotherglimpseofthetalloldman’stophatbobbingslowlythroughthecrowdthatthrongedthesidewalk.A

streetcarblockedherview.“Icouldn’tcareless.”

Headingbacktotheoffice,AverellComstockwassurprisedwhenhehadtostopandresthalfwaythere,paleandtrembling.

—IsaacBellandTexasWaltHatfieldlookedfortheassassin’sshootinghideontheroofbehindtheToppling

Derricksaloon’sfalsefront.Theyagreedthatthesightlineswerethere,aneasyshotthreehundredyardstotheClarion’ssidewindow.Withtheroarofdrinkersbelowcelebratingnewriches,itwasdoubtfulanyoneinthesaloonwouldhearashot,muchlessdoanythingaboutit.Nootherbuildinglookeddownontheroof,ensuringprivacyandtimetodrawabeadandwait.

Bellwalkedtheperimeter.

Theroofslopedslightlytoallowrainwatertospilloffintoagutter.Hesawagoldenglintinthegutter,kneltdown,pulledfromthegritandhardenedsedimentthatlinedthewoodentroughanemptycartridgeshell.

“Awildcat,”saidBell,showingittoHatfield.Astandardfactory-madeSavage.303brasscasehadbeenreshapedtoaccommodatecustomized

powderandbulletloadsforgreaterrangeandimpact.

“Man’sloadinghisown,”saidHatfield.

“I’dexpectthatforhisaccuracy,”saidBell.Agreatmarksman,whichtheassassinsurelywas,wouldusetheso-calledwildcatinconjunctionwithafinelymachinedchamberandacustom-madebarrel.“ButI’msurprisedhedidn’tscoopitupbeforeheran.It’saheckofatelltale.”

“Maybeheknewhemissed,”saidHatfield.“Gotrattled.”

“Maybe...Odd,though.The.303ismadefortheSavage99.”

“Fineweapon.Thoughamitelight.”

“Iwonderwhyheusessuchalightgun.That1903Springfieldwouldbemoreaccurate.”

“Butheavier.”“HiskillinKansaswas

nearlysevenhundredyards.”“Amanlookslikea

flyspeckatthatrange.”“That’swhyIassumeda

Springfield.”“Doyousupposehe’sa

littlefeller?”Hatfieldwondered.

“Toosmalltoholdamoreaccurateheavygun?MightexplainwhyhehastoimprovetheSavagecartridge.Probablysmithedhisrifletoafarewell,too.”Bellpocketed

thecartridge.“O.K.Let’sseewherehewent.”

HatfieldhadbeenraisedbyComancheIndiansandwasanexperttracker.Prowlingthetarroof,hespottedaminuteimprintofthecornerofabootheel,andfounditrepeatedseveralyardsintoanalley.Step-by-step,markbybarelydecipherablemark,incrustedmud,oil-soakedearth,anddriedmanure,theyfollowed

thesniper’sescaperoutedownalleysandoverarailroadtrackandintoastable’scorral,wheretheylostthetrailinhoofprints.

“Mounteduphereandrodeoff.”

Thestablehandswerevaquerostoooldandlametoquittheirjobstogetrichintheoilfields.WaltHatfieldaddressedtheminSpanishandtranslatedforBell.Twomenhadleftquicklyon

horsestheyhadboardedinthestableandhadorderedsaddledupanhourearlier.

“Twomen?”“Onebig,onelittle.”“Weretheycarrying

rifles?”“Noguns.”

—Humble’shotelswerejam-packed,andtheroominghouseswerestifling,but

TexasWalthadrustledupcleanroomsaboveastable.Theysluicedoffthedustofthelong,hotdayinhorsetroughsandheadedbacktotheTopplingDerrickwhere,earlier,Bellhadtippedgenerouslytoguaranteeatableforsupper.

Theypassedthefairgroundontheway.Thesuffragistrallyhaddispersed,andacrowdoftheoilfieldhandscampingtherewas

carousingundertarpaulinsthatshelteredaboard-on-barrelssaloon.Offtooneside,Bellspottedafamiliar-lookingwalltentpitchedbesideabuckboardwagon.Ablackironpotwassuspendedoveracookfire.

“Walt,youmaybediningalone.”

Drawingnearthetent,heheardhertypewriterclattering.Heknockedonthepost.Shekepttypinglikea

Gatlinggun.Butthecanvasflewopenandoutsteppedaslimyoungwomanwithshort,wispychestnuthair,brighteyes,andabrightersmile.Hervoicerang.

“Ifyou’renotIsaacBell,mysister’sfameddescriptivepowershavedesertedher.”

Shethrustoutherhand.“NellieMatters.I’vebeen

lookingforwardtomeetingyou.”

Bellswepthishatoffhis

head,tookherdelicatefingersinhis,andsteppedclose.WhenhehadseenNelliethroughbinoculars,hehadthoughtofherfeaturesaslessfinethanhersister’s.Butwithonlyinchesbetweenthem,herresemblancetoEdnawasstronger.Shehadthesamegray-greeneyes,thesamesilkenhair,thesamebeautifulnose.Allthatseemedmagnifiedwereherexpressiveeyebrowsand

fullerlips.“Iwashopingyouwould

returntoearth,”hesaid.“Onlybriefly.”Thetypingstopped.Edna

called,“Invitehimtosupper.”

“Doeshelikevarmintstew?”

“It’snotvarmintstew.It’sjackrabbit.”

“Ilovejackrabbit,”saidBell.“Oneofyoumustbequiteashot.”

Nellielaughed.“Notexactly.Ednablastedthemwithher.410.We’llbecrackingteethonbuckshot.”

Ednaemergedfromthetent,andBell’sfirstthoughtwasthatNelliewasgorgeous,anutterlybeautifulwoman,buttherewassomethingaboutEdna—herstillnessandhersteadygaze—thatblockedthebreathinhisthroat.

Shesaid,“We’llchewcarefully.Howareyou,Mr.

Bell?”“Happytoseeyou.What

bringsyoutoHumble?”“Samethingthatbrought

you,I’dimagine.C.C.Gustafson.”

“AreyoureportingfortheDerrick?”

Shedidnotanswerdirectly,sayinginsteadthatC.C.Gustafsonwasagoodfriendandanimportantsourceforherresearch.

Nellieaskedwhetherhe

wasinvestigatingtheshooting.

“Mr.Gustafsondoesn’tremembermuch.”

Ednasaid,“Hismemoryisreturning.HetoldmethatthedaybeforehewasshothehadheardthatBigPeteStraubarrivedonthetrain.”

Nellielaughed.“Mr.Bell,youreallyoughttohiremysistertoassistinyourinvestigation.”

Bellkepttohimselfthat

Gustafsonhadalreadytoldhimthatandsaid,“IreckonEdna’stoobusy—andfartooexpensive—butwhatanicecoincidenceyoufindyourselvesheretogether.”

“Weoftentraveltogether,”saidNellie.“Particularlytoplaceslikethiswhereawoman’sbetteroffnotalone.”Anodindicatedthetarpaulinsaloon,wherethemenweregettingloud.“Twowomenare

somewhatmoreformidablethanonegirlonherown,don’tyouthink?”

“Justaskthosejackrabbits.”

“Willyoustaytosupper?”“Letmerunandfind

somewine.”“InHumble?Goodluck.”Bellgrinned.“Whatdo

youpreferwithjackrabbit?”Ednagrinned.“Achilled

Riesling,wouldn’tyousay,Nellie?”

NellietossedIsaacBellasecondchallenge.“Onahotnightwithajackrabbitandahandsomegentleman,I’minamoodforchampagne!”

“I’llberightback,”saidBell.

“Whereareyougoing?”theychorusedafterhim.“Houston?”

“NewOrleans!”Bellcalledoverhisshoulderandkeptgoing.

“Don’tbelate.”

BellwentstraighttotheTopplingDerrickandaskedWaltHatfield,“Whichdidyousaywasthehighest-classsportinghouseintown?”

“Thingsdidn’tworkoutwiththeladyreporter?”

“Iaskedyouaquestion.”“Easydoesit,oldson.

Justjoshin’you.TheFrenchQuarterwastheoneImentioned.Aroundthecornerandoveracoupleofstreets.”

BellfoundtheFrench

Quarter’skitchendoordownanalleyandslippedthecooktwotwenty-dollargoldpieces.HereturnedtoEdna’stentwithawhiskeykegunderhisarm.Thebarrelheadhadbeenremoved.Thesisterspeeredin.

“Ice?Wheredidyougetice?”

Bellsaid,“Forgiveme,Edna,butRieslingprovedimpossible.WillyousettleforaChablis?”

Ednasaid,“Iamdevastated.ButI’llsettleforChablis.Justthisonce.”

“Whataboutme?”Nelliecried.“Where’smychampagne?”

“Moët&Chandon?”“Areyouserious?”Bellpulleddripping

bottlesfromtheice.Nelliesaid,“Edna,oneof

usshouldgrabthisfellowbeforehegetsaway.Youarequitetheprovider,Mr.Bell.”

“Here’smysuggestion,”saidBell.“FirstwesharechampagneandsavetheChablisforthejackrabbit.”

“Butwehavenochampagneglasses.”

“Tincupswilldo,”saidEdna.

“Noneed,”calledafamiliarvoice,andaroundthetentstrodeArchieAbbottwithfourchampagneflutesinhishand.

“Whereinblazesdidyou

comefrom?”askedBell.“TrainfromHouston,”

saidArchie,smilingattheladies.“Inthenickoftime.Sawyouluggingabarrelofice,puttwoandtwotogether,andquicklygotglasses.MissHock,lovelytoseeyouagain.Andyou,MissMatters,ofcourse,arethefamousflyingorator.”

HebowedoverNellie’shand.“Whatatreattoobserveyouwithoutgettinga

crickinmyneck.”“Willyoujoinusfor

supper,Mr.Abbott?”Bellsaid,“Don’tyouhave

anappointmentwithawitness,Mr.Abbott?”

“Notonanemptystomach.”

“Thatwouldbetoocruel,”saidNellie.“Youmustlethimhaveabitefirst,Mr.Bell.”

“Rabbitfirst,”saidEdna.“Witnesslater.”

Thechampagnelasteduntilnightwasfallinganditwasnearlydark.

“IfyouboyswillopentheChablis,NellieandIwillladleouttherabbit.”

Thesistersgatheredaroundthefire.Bellgottoworkonthewinebottle.

“Twolovelies!”Archiesaidinalowvoice.“Count’em,two.Beautiful,intelligent,charming,accomplished,andsingle.An

abundanceofriches.”“Handsoff,”saidBell.“I

haven’tmademymindupyet.”

“Fearnot,Ma-maisvettingprospectivefiancées.”

TheAbbottsofNewYorkhadlosttheirmoneybackinthePanicof’93.Archiewassupposedlyonahunttoreplenishthetreasury,butBelldoubteditwouldhappen.Hewasmorelikelytofallinlove,andmoneywouldbethe

lastthingonhismind.“Funny,”saidArchie,

“howtheykeepturningupwhereveryou’reinvestigating.”

“Intelligent,”saidBell.“Asyousaid.”

“Comeandgetit!”criedNellie.

“Don’tmindifwedo,”bawledaloudvoiceattheedgeofthefirelight.

Sixorsevendrunkcowhandsandoilworkers

hadwanderedoverfromtheboard-on-barrelssaloon.

“Youmeanthefoodorthegals?”yelledarangyrigger.

“Both!”howledacowboy.IsaacBellandArchie

Abbottstoodup.“Goodevening,

gentlemen,”saidArchie.“Goaway.”

“Makeme.”Archietookalightning

stepforwardandthrewanevenfasterlefthook.The

riggertumbledbackwardintohisfriends.WhentheypouncedatArchie,Bellwasreadywithahardrightthatdroppedthecowboyandaleftcrossforaburlyroustabout.

Thefourdrunksstillstandingwerequicklyjoinedbyfourmore.

Thetwodetectivesstoodshouldertoshoulder.Archiemuttered,“AnymoreandI’mpullingagun.”

“Toomanyfolksaroundforgunplay,”saidBell.

“Bloodyhell,you’rerightaboutthat.”

NellieMatterslaughed.“Goaway!Ourheartsarespokenfor.”

IfNellie’sjokewasdesignedtodefangthemob,thoughtBell,ithadtheoppositeeffect.Sheseemedoblivioustothedanger.ButEdna,Bellnoticed,wascoollyeyeingthetentflaps

behindwhichwasproppedhershotgun.

Hesaid,“Let’stake’em,Archie.”

Archiesaid,“You’reon.”

—Thetrickwastopreventbeingmobbedbyaconcertedrush.

TheVanDornsusedtheirlongreachandprizeringfootworktokeepthematbay,

dartingin,droppingthreemoremenwithpowerhousepunches,andbackinglightlyaway.ItlookedasiffiveorsixstillstandingwerereconsideringtheirfuturewhenanenormousoilhandeasilyasbigasBigPeteStraublumberedup.

“Whowantsitfirst?”“Startwithme,”saidIsaac

Bell,flashingforward,fakingaleftjab,andthrowingaroundhouserightthatflung

theoilhandflatonhisback.Butashardashehittheground,itseemedtohavenoeffect.Thegiantshookhisheadlikeadrayhorseannoyedbyafly,sprangtohisfeet,andcharged.Belltookhismeasure,spottedhisfistsrise,whichexposedhissolarplexus,andlinedupastraightleftthatwouldtakeadvantageofthemomentum.

Suddenlythemanclutchedhischest.

HelurchedatBellasifshovedfrombehindbyamightyforce.TheburstofunnaturalspeedcaughtBellunaware.Beforethetalldetectivecouldthrowapunchorsidestepthecharge,thegiantslammedintohim.

Threehundredpounds’deadweightdroveIsaacBelltotheground.

Hotliquidsplashedhisface.

Rabbitstew,hethoughtin

acrazytenthofasecondendedbyarifleshot.Heheardasecondshot.Leadwhistled.Amuzzleflashlitthenight,andthesniper’sthirdshotclangedoffEdna’scookpot.

“Down!”heyelled.ArchiesweptNellieand

Ednaofftheirfeet.Bellleveredoutfromunderthegiant.Themandidnottrytoholdhimbutfloppedoverwithhischestspoutinga

fountainofheartbloodthatglitteredinthefirelight.

ThedyingbrawlerhadjumpedintothepathofabulletmeantforBell.

T10

akeoffyourshoe,”saidtheassassin.

BigPeteStraubglareddowntheriflebarrelaimedathisheadandweighedhischancesofwrappinghismittsaroundtheneckofthismanwhohadplayedhimforasucker.Not

good.Slowly,heunlacedhis

boot,bidinghistime,gatheringhisenormousframeforanoverwhelmingrush,figuringtotakeabulletoreventwobeforehecrushedthelifeoutofhim.

“Andyoursock.”Straubtuggedoffadirty

sockandreachedforhisotherboot.Barefeet?Why?

“Leaveiton.One’senough.”

“Whatin—”“Putyourhandsbehind

yourback.Laydownonthem.Allyourweight.Closeyoureyes.Tight!Squeeze’emtight!”

“IsthisbecauseImissed?IwouldhavehitBellifyouletmeusemyowngun.”

“Iknewyouwouldmiss.”“Thenwhy—”“Openyourmouth.”“What—”Theassassinshovedthe

riflebetweenBigPete’steethandtouchedthemuzzletotheroofofhismouth.BigPetefeltitticklethesensitivemembrane.

—“Ahdon’tenvyHumble’ssheriff,”drawledTexasWaltHatfield.

TexasWaltandArchieAbbottandIsaacBellwerewolfingdowntheToppling

Derrick’sblueplatespecialbreakfastoffriedfatbackandeggs.

“Ahmeaneverytimethemanturnsaround,someone’sshot,andwhoeverdoestheshootinggetscleanaway.Dumblucklastnight,onlyonedeadwithallthatleadflying,andthankfullynoneoftheladies.Goodluckforyou,though,Isaac.”

“Lookout!”Aflickerofmotioninthe

cornerofIsaacBell’seyeexplodedintoarockshatteringthewindow.BellshovedArchie.TherockmissedAbbott’saristocraticnosebyahalfinchandbrokethecoffeecupTexasWaltwasliftingtohislips.

Thedrunkwhohadthrowntherock—amiddle-aged,unshavencowhandintatteredshirtandbiblessoveralls,andonebootpeelingoffitssole—stoodswayingin

themiddleofMainStreet.HistruculentexpressionfrozeinastonishmentwhenthreetallVanDorndetectivesboiledouttheswingingdoorswithgunsdrawn.IsaacBellcoveredthesidewalktotheirleftwithhisautomaticpistol.ArchieAbbottguardedtheirrightwithacityslicker’ssnub-nosedrevolverinonehandandablackjackintheother.

TexasWaltstalkedinto

thestreetandleveledtwolong-barrelSmith&Wessonsattherockthrower’sface.Hisvoicewascold,hiseyescolder.“Youwanttoexplainwhyyouruinedmybreakfast?”

Thedrunktrembled.“LookslikeIbitoffmorethanIcanchew.”

“WhatinSamHillareyoutalkingabout?”

“Didyoureadthenote?”“Note?Whatnote?”

“Thisnote,”saidIsaacBell,whohadpickeduptherockonhiswayoutthedoor.Heslidathrowingknifefromhisboot,cutthetwinethattiedasheetofpaperaroundtherock,spreadthepaper,andreadit.

“Whogaveyouthis?”“Fellerwithfivebucks.”“Whatdidhelooklike?”“Big.”“Beard?Mustache?”“Nope.”

“Whatcolorhair?”“Yeller.”TexasWaltinterruptedto

ask,“Doyouwantmetoshoothim,Isaac?”

“Holdonaminute.Whendidthefellowgivethisnote?”

“Coupleofhoursago.Iguess.”

“Why’dyouwaittothrowit?”

“ThoughtI’dhaveasnortfirst.”

“Gotanymoneyleft?”

“Nope.”“Here.Getyourself

somethingtoeat.”Bellshovedagoldpieceinhisdirtypalmandwentbacktobreakfast.ArchieandWaltfollowed.

“Why’dyougivethatsorryfoolmoney?”askedWalt.

“Hedidusabigfavor.”“Favor?Spilledcoffeeall

overmybestshirt.”“Thehostlersatthestable

saw‘twomen.’Remember?”“Whattwomen?”asked

Archie.“Mountedupandrodeoff

aftertheyshotGustafson,”saidHatfield.“Whatfavor,Isaac?”

“Whenhisrockbrokethewindow,Irealizedwhythereweretwomen.OnefiredfirsttobreakthewindowtogivethesniperaclearshotatMr.Gustafson.”

“Hemissedanyhow.

Twice.”“OnlybecauseMr.

Gustafsonhaslightning-fastreflexes.Mostmenwouldhavestoodgapingatthewindow.Butitrepeatsapattern.”

“Whatpattern?”“BigPete–typeassistance.

InKansasheusedhimtothrowoffthescent.Hereheusedhimtoclearhisshot.I’lllayevenmoneyheusedhim,too,whenheshotAlbertHill

inCoffeyvilleandRiggsatFortScott.”

“Whatdoesthenotesay?”askedArchie.

IsaacBellreaditaloud:“‘You’llfindmeattheI-Bar-O.Comeandgetmeifyou’remanenough.’”

“Someone’sbeenreadingtoomanydimenovels,”saidTexasWalt.“Why’sheannouncingaheadoftimehe’sgoingtobushwhackus?”

“Theatrical,”Bellagreed.

“Badtheater,”saidArchie.

BellspokewiththesaloonkeeperwhotoldhimthattheI-Bar-OranchwasnorthofHumbleonabendoftheSanJacintoRiver.“That’stheoldOwensplace.Don’tknowwhoyou’llfindlivingthere.Heardtheypulledupstakes.”

“We’regettingsetupforawild-goosechase,”saidHatfield.“Longrideonahot

day.”Bellsaid,“Gethorses,

saddlebags,andWinchesters.PickmeupatMike’sHardware.”

TwentyminuteslaterArchieandWalttrottedtheirhorsesuptothegleaming-new,three-storybrickMike’sWholesaleandRetailHardwareCompanyleadingabigsorrelforBell.Bellhandedthemslingshotsfromagunnysackandswunginto

thesaddle.“Youbeenchewing

locoweed,Isaac?Ifitain’tawild-goosechase,themanhasarifle.Sodoeshissidekick.”

Bellreacheddeeperinhissackandtossedthemboxedmatchesandhalfsticksofdynamitewithshortfuses.“Incasethey’rebarricaded.”

Winchestersintheirscabbards,TNTintheirsaddlebags,theVanDorn

detectivesheadedoutataquicktrot.Theyrodesixorsevenmiles,perspiringinthethick,humidheat,passingseveralcattleoutfitsthathadgonebust.TherewasashortageofcowhandsinEastTexas,Waltexplained.Youngmenflockedtotheoilfields.

TheI-Bar-Oappearedtobeanotheroftheabandonedranches.

Nosmokerosefromthe

cookhouse,andthepaddockswereempty.

TheVanDornsspreadout,dismounted,andapproachedcautiously,gunsdrawn,eyesrakingwindows,doorways,androoftops.Themainhouse,alow-slungsingle-storyaffair,wasdeserted.Sowasthecookhouse—stovecold,larderdrapedinspiderwebs,flypapercrustedwithdried-upinsects.Theonlyanimals

leftinthebarnswerehungrycats.

Theyconvergedonthebunkhouse,aflimsybuildingwithanoft-patchedroof,afewsmallwindows,andanarrowveranda.Archieforgedaheadontotheverandaandreachedforthedoor.

“Wait.”IsaacBellpointedataclot

ofmudontheverandastepsandmotionedArchiefrom

thedoor.Theredheadpressedhisbacktothewallandpeeredinthenearestwindow.“Manonthefloor.Can’tquitesee.He’sgotariflebesidehim,buthe’snotholdingit...Infact,ifhe’snotdead,hesureisn’tmoving.”

Archiereachedagainforthedoor.

“Don’t!”chorusedBellandWalt.NeitherquestionedArchie’scourage,buthis

judgmentwasnotseasonedtotheirliking.Hehadcomelatetothedetectiveline—personallyrecruitedbyBell,onthefirstcasethatMr.VanDornhadallowedhimtoformhisownsquad.AsMr.VanDornputitmorethanonce,“It’samiraclehowaProtestantNewYorkbluebloodcangethisIrishupasfastasArchibaldAngellAbbottIV.”

“It’sO.K.,”saidArchie.

“He’saloneandhe’sdead.”WaltHatfieldcockedboth

hispistols.“Archie,ifyoutouchthatdoorknob,I’llshootyou.”

“Shootme?”“Topreventyoufrom

killingyourself.StandasideandletIsaacshowyouhowwedoitinTexas.”

IsaacBellgesturedWalttotakecover,boundedontoandacrosstheveranda,shoulderedArchieaside,

jammedhisspinetothewall,andrammedhisriflebackwardtosmashthedooropenwiththebutt.

Theblastittriggeredshooktheearth.

A11

swathofbuckshotwideastwomenscreeched

throughthedoorwayandsplinteredbothsidesofthejamb.IsaacBellhurledhimselfintothebunkhousebeforetheassassincouldreload.

Cavernousten-gauge

shotgunbarrelsstaredhimrocksteadyintheface.Hedivedsideways,hitthefloorwithacrash,androlledintoacrouchbeforeherealizedthattheshotgunwaslashedtightlytoapost.

Earsringing,BellloweredhisWinchesterandlookedaround.

Ahorseshoedangledfromarafter.Itwasswingingonastringthatloopedoverseveralnailsanddowntothe

shotgun’striggers.Openingthedoorhadbumpedthehorseshoeoffanail.Itsweighthadfetcheduptheslackinthestringandjerkedthetriggers,firingbothbarrelssimultaneously.

BigPeteStraublayonhisbackonthebunkhousefloor.Hisrightfootwasbare.Fliesweredartinginandoutofaraggedthree-inchholeinthetopofhishead.Withoneshoeoffandoneshoeon,the

refinerypolicechiefhadkilledhimselfbyputtinghisriflebarrelinhismouthandpushingthetriggerwithhistoe.

“Somuchforyourassistancepattern,Isaac,”saidHatfield.“Themanwentoutalonewithabang.”

“Almosttookuswithhim,”saidArchie.

“Aboutthat‘almost,’Archie?”saidHatfield,cockinganeyebrowthat

demandedananswer.“Thankyou,Walt.Thank

you,Isaac.”“Youcanthankusby

rememberingthatcriminalsdothedamnedestthings.”

BellwasalreadykneelingbyStraub’sgun.“Savage99.”

Hatfieldsnappedaspentshelloffthefloor.“Anotherwildcat.”

Thesleek,hammerlessSavagefeltremarkablylight

inBell’shands.Henoticedanextensionontheforeendofthechamber,asifaquarter-inchpieceofmetalhadbeenaddedtoit.Ametalslideunderthewoodenendreleasedit,revealingtheundersideofthebarrel.Asquarestudprojectedfromit.Thewoodhadacorrespondinghole.Bellfittedthewoodtothebarrel,heldthechamberintheotherhand,andtwistedfirmly.The

barrel,whichheexpectedtobecompression-screwedintothechamber,rotatedaneasyquarterturnandpulledloose.Hewassuddenlyholdingtwoseparateparts,eachbarelytwentyincheslong,shortenoughtoconcealinasatchel,asamplecase,oraninnocent-lookingcarpetbag.

“Walt,didyoueverseeabreakdownSavage99?”

“Ahdon’tbelievethecompanymakesone.”

“Someonemadethisonewithaninterruptedscrew.”

Bellputitbacktogetherbyinsertingthebarrelintothechamberandturningaquarterturn.Ametalslideunderneathfitintoacorrespondingslot,lockingthebarrelinplace.Thankstotheinterruptedthreads—aninventionthathadmadepossiblethequick-sealingcannonbreech—theriflecouldbebrokendownor

reassembledintwoseconds.Butthequestionremained

whysuchalightweaponforamanasbigasStraub?

“Notelescope.”“Holestappedfor

mountingone?”askedWalt.Bellinspectedthetopof

theframe.“Mountingholestapped...YoushouldhaveseenhisshotinKansas.Archiesawit.”

“Betterpartofahalfamile,”saidArchie.

Waltsaid,“Mr.Straubmusthavehadhawkeyes.”

TheSpringfield’03thatthesheriffhadfoundunderthedeadmaninaHumblealleywasfedammunitionbyaremovablestraightmagazine.TheSavagehadarotarymagazine.Theindicatoronthesideofthechamberread“4.”Bellextractedoneoftherounds.Insteadoffactory-maderoundnoses,thebottleneck

cartridgeshadbeenspeciallyloadedwithpointed,aerodynamic“spitzer”bullets.

SomethingabouttheweaponfeltwrongtoBell.Heunscrewedthebarrelagain,rethreadeditinasecond,slidthewoodenforeendbackinplace,lockingtheentireassembly.Thenhecarriedthegunoutside.Thesorrelhadwanderedclose.Hetieditsreinstotheveranda

railingincaseshotsspookedtheanimal,tookabeadonafencepostaquartermileaway,andfireduntilthemagazinewasempty.

Herodethehorsetothetargetandrodeback.

“Hitanything?”Waltasked.

“Deadcentertwice,grazedittwice.It’sagoodgun...Butit’shardtobelieveit’sthegunthatkilledSpikeHopewell.”

“Unless,”Hatfieldgrinned,“Mr.Straubwasabettershot.”

“Doubtit.”Archiesaid,“Butwe

foundacustom-madeSavageshell.”

TexasWaltsaid,“Listenclose,Archie.IsaacdidnotsaythatSpikeHopewellwasn’tkilledbyaSavage99.Allhe’ssayingishedon’treckonthisparticularSavage99didthedeed.”

—“Telegram,Mr.Bell.”

Belltippedtheboytwobitsandreadtheurgentwirehehadbeenhopingfor.JosephVanDornhadoutdonehimselfinhisconstantefforttominimizeexpensesbyreducinghismessagetoasingleword:

NOW

BelltoldArchieAbbotttofollowhimwhenhewasdonehelpingHatfieldandsprintedtothestation.HebarelymadetheSunsetExpresstoNewOrleans,wherehetransferredtotheNewYorkLimited.

Hesettledintoawritingdeskintheclubcarandwascomposingareportfromhisnotebookwhenwomen’svoiceschorusedlikemusicinhisear:“Fancymeetingyouhere,Mr.Bell.”

EdnaandNellieMatterswereheadedtoWashington,whereNelliewastoaddressasuffragistdelegationpetitioningCongress.Herballoonwasfoldedupintheexpresscar.WhenthesisterssaidtheyweresleepinginupperandlowerPullmanberths,Bellgavethemhisstateroom.

Ednaprotested.Nelliethankedhimwarmly.“Howcanwerepayyou?”

“Joinmethiseveninginthediningcar.”

Atdinner,Nellieentertainedhim,andthesurroundingtables,withtalesofrunawayballoons.Edna,whohadclearlyhearditallbefore,listenedpolitelyasNellierattledon.“Sideways,thewindblowsyouintotreesandtelegraphwires.Lowongas,youfallfromthesky.Emergency!Quick!Emergencygas!—”

“Excuseme,younglady,”aclergymaninterruptedfromthetableacrosstheaisle.“Icouldnothelpbutoverhear.Wheredoyoufindemergencygaswhenyou’realreadyflyingintheair?”

“Ihavespecialsteelcontainersinstalledinmybasket,”Nellieanswered.“Lotsofballoonsdo.It’sveryhandyhavingextrahydrogen.”

“Theymustbeheavy.”

“Theybeatfalling,”shedismissedhimandturnedhergreeneyesbackonBell.“WherewasI?Oh,yes.Tooquick,toomuchemergencygas,yousoartoohighandsuffocate.Theairgetssothin,yourunoutofoxygen...”

OvertheNeapolitanicecreamdessert,BellechoedArchie’searliercomment.“Strangehowthethreeofuskeepturninguptogetherwherecrimeshaveoccurred.”

Ednareplied,“I’mbeginningtosuspectyou,Mr.Bell.”

Nellielaughed.“Isuspectedhimfromthestart.”

“MayIaskyousomething?”

NelliegrinnedatEdna.“Doesn’thelooksuddenlyserious?”

“Likeadetective,”saidEdna.“Goon,weshouldn’tbeteasingyou.”

“Atleastuntilhe’spaid

thedinnercheck,”saidNellie.“Actually,youreallydolooksolemn.Whatisit?”

“SpikeHopewelltoldmethatyourbrotherranoffandyouneverheardfromhim.Isthattrue?”

Theirmoodchangedinaninstant.Nellielookedaway.Ednanodded.“Yes.Actually,hewasaYaleman,likeyou.”

“Really?Whatclass?”“Youwereprobably

severalyearsaheadofhim.”

“Hedidn’tgobackafterhisfreshmanyear,”saidNellie.

“Perhapsyouknewhim?”saidEdna.

“Idon’trecallanyonenamedMatters.”

“HisnamewasBillyHock.”

“BillyHock?”Belllookedathercuriously.

“Yes,”saidEdna.“Hewasmyolderbrother.”

“Andmyolderhalf

brother,”saidNellie.IsaacBellsaid,“Inever

madetheconnection.”“Wedid,”saidEdna.“Or

wewondered.Doyouremembernow?”

Bellnodded,recallingaslender,eager-to-pleaseyoungster,moreaboythanaman.“Well,yes,Iknewhim,slightly...”

BillyHockhadbig,brightgray-greeneyesasbrightasEdna’sandNellie’s.“He

enrolledasafreshmanmysenioryear.Hewasveryyoung,youngestoftheboysentering.”

“Fifteen.Hewassmall.Undersized.”

Nelliesaid,“Hetriedoutforcrew.Hewouldhavemadeaperfectcoxswain,beingsolight.Buthewasterrifiedofwater.Healwayshadaphobiaaboutit.”

“Thecrewrowersraggedhimmercilessly,”saidEdna.

Bellnodded.“Untilsome

upperclassmansteppedinandputastoptoit.”

“Yes.”“Wewonderedhow.”“Hecouldnotabide

bullies,”saidBell.“Oneboyagainstateam?”

askedNellie.“Hetrainedatboxing.”Ednadirectedherlevel

gazeintoBell’seyes.“WhenIwatchedyouand

Archieboxingthosemen,Isuddenlywonderedwasityouwhostoodupforourbrother.Wasn’tit?”

“Ihadn’trealizedtheconnectionuntilthisverymoment.Thedifferentname.Wedidn’tdiscussourfamiliesatcollege—unlessourpeoplewererelated—youmustrememberwhenyouwentofftocollegehowwewereallsogladtobeawayfromhomeatthatage.”

Bothwomennodded.“SoBillyHockwasthe

brotherwhoranaway?Strange...Iwonderedatschoolhowhewouldfare.Whendidhego?”

“Thatsamesummer,rightafterhisfreshmanyear,”saidEdna.

“Hewasadventurous,”saidNellie.“Justlikeme—alwaysrunningaroundandtryingnewthings.”

“Weneverheardfrom

himagain,”saidEdna.Nelliesaid,“SometimesI

blamemyself.Ibecameakindofmodelforhim,eventhoughIwasyounger.Hesawmerunningaround—onesecondIwasentrancedbyballoons,thenIwastryingtobeanactress,thenIranofftobeanacrobatinthecircus—remember,Edna?”

“IrememberFatherlaughingwhentheringmasterwalkedyouhome.”

“Onawhitehorse!HesaidIwastooyoung.Isaid,‘O.K.,takemehomeonawhitehorse!’...Andhedid...IgaveBillycourage.Ionlyhopeitdidn’tpushhimtowardtheArmy.”

“No,itdidn’t,”Ednasaid,layingareassuringhandonhersister’sarm.“Ifanything,itgavehimcouragetogoawaytoYale.Father,”sheexplained,turningtoBell,“sowantedBillytoattendYale

becausemany‘OilPrinces’wenttocollegethere—Comstock’sson,Lapham’sson,Atkinson’snephews.”

“BillyandItalkedaboutjoiningtheArmy.TheSpanishwarwasbrewing—thepaperswerefullofit—andboysweresigningup.”Bellhadtried,caughtupintheexcitement,buthisfather,aCivilWarveteran,hadintervenedforcefully,arguingwithunassailablelogicthat

therewerebettercausestodieforthan“awarstartedbynewspaperstosellnewspapers.”

Ednasaid,“WeguessthatBillyenlistedunderanassumedname.Liedabouthisage.WefearhewaslosteitherintheswampsofCubaorthePhilippinejungle.Weneverheard.Ifhedidjoin,hemusthavechangedhisnameandliedabouthisfamily.”

“Butwedon’treallyknow

whathappened,”saidNellie.“Exceptthatitnearlydestroyedourpoorfather.”

—“Youcutitclose,”saidJosephVanDorn.

IsaacBellliftedhisgoldwatchfromhispocket,sprangthelid,andletVanDornreadthedial.ThenheshookhisheadatthelatestadditiontotheBoss’sWillardHotel

office,amodern,glass-casedtableclockfromParis.“YourO’Keenanelectric,importedatuntoldexpense,isrunningfifty-sevensecondsfast.”

“Sitdown,”saidVanDorn.“He’sinmyprivatewaitingroom.Butbraceyourself.Thepoordevillostallhishairtosomedisease.”

“Alopeciatotalis.”“Evenhiseyebrowsand

mustache.Ihadalookthroughthepeephole.He’s

smoothasacueball.”“Don’tworry,”saidBell,

“it’snotcatching...Now,sir,weneedaplan.”

Theyspokefortwominutes,VanDorndubious,Bellpreparedwithpersuasiveanswers.Whenthetalldetectivehadprevailed,theBossmurmuredintoavoicetubeandhisvisitorwasusheredinfromtheprivateentrance.

M12r.Rockefeller.”

Theretiredpresidentofthe

StandardOilCorporationwasatall,sixty-six-year-old,two-hundred-poundman.Hehadpiercingeyesthatburnedinanenormoushairlesshead,anicilyquietmanner,anda

powerfulpresencethatremindedIsaacBellofthelong-reigningheavyweightchampionJimJeffries.

JohnD.RockefellershookhandswithJosephVanDornandnoddedtoBellwhenVanDornintroducedhimas“mytopinvestigator.”Herefusedachairandgotstraighttothepoint.

“AnassassinisdiscreditingStandardOilbyattackingenemiesofthetrust.

Thepublic,inclinedtobelievetheworst,gossipsthatStandardOilisbehindtheattacks.”

“It’sthepriceforhittingthebigtime,”VanDornsaidsympathetically.“Yougetblamedforeverything.”

“Thisoutcryagainstusiswrong.Thepubliccannotseemtounderstandthatwearenotmonsters.Wearemerelyefficient—enormouslymoreefficientthanour

competitors.OilisnotthebiggestbusinessinAmerica.Coalisbigger.Railroadsarebigger.Steelisbigger.Yet,weowncoal.Wecontrolrailroads.Weownsteel.Why?Notbecausewe’remonsters,butbecausetheyarechaotic,embroiledinmurderousrivalry,eachconductinghisownbusinessindependentlyoftheotherandinsharpcompetition.Wecooperate.”

VanDornglancedatBell.BellhadbeentheBoss’spersonalapprenticewhenhestartedattheagencystraightoutofcollegeandVanDornhadtaughthimthetradeonChicago’sWestSide—asdangerousacitywardascouldbefoundanywhereinthecountry.LikeApachebraveswhohadstalkedgameandhuntedenemiessidebysidesinceboyhood,theycouldcommunicatewith

signsknownonlytothem.“Yousoundprettysureof

yourself,”saidVanDorn,uncharacteristicallyblunt.

JohnD.Rockefellerfixedhimwithhiscoldgaze.“ThenexttimesomeonetellsyouthatStandardOilisanoctopus,Mr.VanDorn,youmaytellthemformethatthe‘octopus’keepshisbooksstraight,hisinventoryinorder,hisbankaccountspositive,andpayshisdebts

whendue.Heisnothoodwinkedbyalluringprospects.Hekeepshispowderdry.Theoctopusisorganizedanddisciplinedandtherestofthem...theyarenot.”

“Iftheoctopusisreadytogetdowntobrasstacks,”saidVanDorn,“let’stakeupthebusinessofthismeeting.”

“IintendtohiretheVanDornDetectiveAgencytocatchtheassassinandendthe

slander.”“You’retoolate,”said

IsaacBell.“ThemancommittedsuicideinHumble,Texas.”

“Ihaverarelyheardanythingsoridiculous,”saidRockefeller.“Youhaveyourfactswrong.”

—“Notunlessyouknowsomethingthatwedon’t

aboutStandardOilpolicemanBigPeteStraub,”saidBell.

“Ido,”Rockefellersaidblandly.

“Weareallears,”saidVanDorn.

“Mr.Straubsufferedamedicalconditionthedoctorscallfootdrop.Hisnervesweredamagedbyaninjuryhesustainedinthecourseofalabordispute.Thedamage,whichwasirreparable,causedparalysisoftheflexor

muscles.”“Rightfootorleft?”asked

Bell.“Mr.Straubcouldnot

movethetoesofhisrightfoot.Hadhedesiredtotriggerariflewithhistoe,hewouldhavebaredhisotherfoot.”

VanDornscowledasifembarrassedhisdetectivewasfoundlacking.

IsaacBellalmostsmiled.Hefeltoddlyrelieved.ThatlightSavagerifleinthatbig

man’shandsdidnotfeelright.AndtheirattempttopenetrateStandardOilhadjustpaidoffinatotallyunexpectedbonus.

“Didyourrefinerypolicedetectivestellyouthis?”askedVanDorn.

“Straub’ssuperiorsreportedtheconditionwhentheyreadtheaccountsinthenewspapers.Doyouseehowperfectlysillythatverdictofsuicideis?”

“Thankyou,Mr.Rockefeller,Ido,”saidIsaacBell.“Hewasmurdered.Thekillingwasmadetolooklikesuicide.Mr.Straubwasnottheassassin.”

Bellspokecoolly,buthisheadwasspinningwithquestions.Thelightweightgun.Howtoexplainsuchextraordinaryaccuracy?AcircusorWildWestShowperformer,hardlylikely.Hewasgraspingatstraws.The

assassincouldbeanordinary-sizemanwithapenchantfortheSavage99andthemeansandknowledgetohavethefactoryweaponsmithedtosuchadegree,itwascustom-made.LiketheweaponhehadleftwithStraub’sbody.

Rockefellersaid,“VanDorn,IwantyoutostopwastingyourtimewiththeinvestigationinWashingtonandputyourfirm’sfulleffortintocatchingtheassassin.”

IsaacBellandJosephVanDornknewthatBell’sploytoinfiltrateStandardOilhadhookedtheirman.Nowthejobwastoreelinthecageypresident.

VanDornsaid,“Youhaveyourownprivatedetectiveforce.Whydon’tyouputthemtowork?”

“They’renotthemenforthisjob.IwantthebestandI’llpayforit.”

BellandVanDorn

exchangedwhatappearedtobepuzzledglances.“ButwearealreadyinvestigatingyoufortheCorporationsCommission,”VanDornprotested.“AsI’msureyouknow.”

Rockefellersaid,“YouwillrecallmyinstructionsthatIenteryouroffices,unaccompanied,byaprivateentrance.”

JosephVanDorn’sgrandromannosewrinkledasifhe

smelledsomethingunpleasant.

“Mr.Rockefeller,whatdoesyourmethodofarrivalhavetodowithanything?”

“WedonothavetoinformtheCorporationsCommissionthatyou’reworkingforme.”

JosephDorn’smouthtightened.Hisnostrilsflared.Hischeeksturnedredashiswhiskersasheceasedtodrawbreath.Hisvoicetookona

low,steelynotethatleftnodoubtthatwereRockefellerayoungerman,hewoulddraghimdowntheWillardHotel’sgrandstaircasebythescruffofhisneckandthrowhimoutthedoorontoPennsylvaniaAvenue.

“Ihavegivenmywordtomyclient,thecommission.Mywordismybond.Asacredoath.”

“Thisismoreurgent,”saidRockefeller.

VanDornstartedtoretort.IsaacBellinterrupted.

“Weshouldconcentrateontheassassin.Heistheclearandimmediatedanger.”

“No,”saidVanDorn.“Theagencyishonor-boundtodoboth.”

“IagreewithMr.Rockefeller,”Bellsaidstaunchly.“Thiskillerwillmurderagain.Hangingamurdererisfarmoreimportant—andmore

honorable—thanparsingtheintentionsoftheShermanAnti-TrustAct,whichtheSupremeCourtwillprobablyoverturnanyway.”

VanDornclenchedhisfists.“Ifyoufeelsostronglythattheintentionsofashilly-shallyingCongressandavacillatingcourtaremoreimportantthanmyagency’shonor,youarefreetoresignyourpositionandjoinMr.Rockefeller.”

Rockefellerturnedonhisheelandheadedforthedoor.“I’llbeatmyestateinWestchester,NewYork,Mr.Bell,whereyoucancallonme.”

—TheassassinenteredtheWashingtonMonumentcarryingacarpetbagandjoinedagroupofmenandwomenwaitingforthe

elevatortotakethemtothetopofthememorialshaft.Theyreturnedthebrightsmileandheartyhelloexpectedoffellowout-of-townvisitorsandmaderoomwhenthecararrived.Pilotedbyaself-importantoperator,whoseemedtotakepleasureinopeningandclosingthedoorataglacialpace,itclimbedfivehundredfeetintwelveslowminutes,aheart-poundingeternityofgrating

cables,wheels,andrailsmadeevenlongerbytheendlessdinoftouristchatterandthesuddenexclamationsastheyspottedamongthememorialstonesthatdecoratedtheinteriorwallslumpsofrockfromtheirownstates.Itgetseasiereverydaytobeasnob,thoughttheassassin.

Thedooropenedatlasttothesmellofturpentineandpaint.

—Theso-calledLincolnMemorialwasnothingmorethanamudpatch,andClydeLaphamwashavingahardtimeconcentratingonthedo-gooder’sspeech.HiseyekeptwanderingtowardanexposedtreerootthatremindedhimofasnakeslitheringupanAlleghenyriverbank.Theoldmanrememberedthesnake

sovividlyfromhisboyhoodthathecouldsmellthewaterandhearthefliesbuzzingaroundhishead.Hesworehesawitsfasttongueexploringtheairwithexpectantflickers.

“‘TheGreatEmancipator,’”thedo-gooderdronedinhisear.“‘SavioroftheUnion’...Fittingtoriseoppositethemonumenttoourfirstpresident,don’tyouthink,sir?”

“Thatsnake...”“Begyourpardon,Mr.

Lapham?”“Youseethatsnake...”

Lapham’svoicetrailedoffashelostinterestinwhetherthedo-gooderraisingmoneytobuildtheLincolnMemorialcouldseethesnake.Hecouldseethesnake.

Thedo-gooderpointedattheWashingtonMonument.ItwastallerthanaNewYorkCityskyscraper.UnlikeNew

Yorkskyscrapers,itstoodalone.Far,faraway.Andfarbehindit,thedomeoftheCapitolroseintotheskylike...like...hedidn’tcarewhatitwaslike.Buthere,inthemud,thesnake.

HetriedtorememberwhyhewashereinsteadofbackinNewYork.Thedo-gooderwantedmoneyfromtheStandard,andtheboysatNumber26hadgivenhimthejobofridingthetraindownto

WashingtontoreckonifitwasthekindofthingMr.Rockefellerwouldwanttowriteacheckto.Orsotheysaid.Laphamhadhissuspicions.Theyjustwantedhimoutoftheofficesotheycouldcuthimoutofanotherprivatedeal.

“Howmuchmoneyareyoubeggingfor?”

“Begging?MayIquoteMr.Rockefellerhimselfonthesubjectofphilanthropy?

‘Iamproud,’hesaid,‘ofmyabilitytobegmoneyforthegoodofmankind.’”

“Howmuchwouldthisthingcost?”

“Well,sir,ifCongresswon’tact,it’suptopatrioticmenofmeanslikeyourselfandMr.Rockefeller.AsMr.Rockefellerhasundertakentosupportmanyfinecausesinhisretirement—”

“Retirement?”ClydeLaphamsnorted.“Rockefeller

retired?Youmustbekidding...”Hisvoicetrailedoff.Hehadjustrememberedtheyweren’teversupposedtosaythat.Hecorrectedhimself.“Retirement.You’reright.He’sretiring.Retired.Retired.Goddamned-sureretired.”

Thedo-gooder,achurchman,recoiledatthesoundofanoath.

“Howmuchwillthisthingcost?”Laphamrepeated.

“Well...”Thedo-gooderrubbedhishands.“Wouldn’tthatdepend,sir—Mr.Lapham—onthesizeofthemonument?”

“Bigasthatone?”Laphamasked,pointingatthefive-hundred-fifty-five-foot,four-sidedobeliskerectedtothememoryofGeorgeWashington.Hestaredatit.Hiseyefixedonabarelyvisiblesquareholenearthetop.Asthetreerootreminded

himofthesnake,thatsquareholemadehimthinkofawagonridingupthesheerwallofthepillar.Hecouldevenseethehorsespullingitinthepatternsofthemarblebuildingblocks.

“What’sthatupthere?”“Themonument?”asked

theminister,whowasbeginningtorealizethatoldLaphamwasconfused,toputitmildly.Tooconfusedtocontributetohisprivate

LincolnMemorialfund?Orconfusedinawaythatmightembracethefundwithopenarms.

“LetusrememberthatmagnificentedificeowesitsexistencetotheprivateeffortoftheWashingtonMonumentSocietywhengoodmenlikethegoodmenoftheStandardraisedthefundsthatCongressfailedtoprovide.”

“Thatsquarethingnearthetop...Whatthedevilis

that?”“Oh,that’soneofthe

windows.”“Windows?”“Peoplelookingoutthat

windowwillseetheLincolnMemorialrightdownhere.”

“Theybetterhavegoodeyes,”saidLapham.Hehadlostsightofthewagon,buthecouldseeaclearshotstraightfromthatwindowtowherehestood.“That’sthebestpartofamile.”

“WhenAmericansclimbthestairstohonorPresidentWashington,theywillrushbackdownthemtovisittheStandard’sgiftmemorializingPresidentLincoln.”

“Damnedfoolsshouldtaketheelevator.”

—Theassassindetachedfromtheclotoftouristswhentheelevatordooropenedand

theywereshuntedpastacanvascurtaintowardtheobservationwindowsthatfacedeast,south,andnorth.Theassassinslippedbehindthecurtainandputthecarpetbagbeneaththewindowthatfacedwest.Stoutmetalbarshadbeeninstalledinthewindowtostopsuicidesfromlaunchingthemselvesfromit.Theyweresetdeepinthemasonrysixinchesapart.

ThewindowlookedovertheMall,agrass-coveredflatlandthatstretchedalmosttothePotomacRiver.Atthefarend,justbeforetheriver,wasastretchofrawmudwhereaBrooklynminister—inspiredbyapreviousgeneration’sBrooklynAbolitionists—wasattemptingtocollectcontributionstobuildamemorialtoAbrahamLincoln.

Itwasathanklesstaskthat

theLincolnMemorialAssociationhadbeentryingwithnosuccesssince1867.Histargettoday,ClydeLapham,couldpayfortheentirething,beingachartermemberoftheStandardOilGang.Ifhecouldonlyrememberwherehehadlefthischeckbook.

—ClydeLaphamforgotthe

snakeinthemudandforgotthewagonontopoftheWashingtonMonument.Hewasmesmerizednowbythetipoftheobelisk,ashinypointthatwasadifferentcolorthanthemarble.Themarblewasturningdarkerasitwassilhouettedagainstthesettingsun.Butthetipglowedwithanunearthlylight.

Thedo-gooderchurchmanwasrattlingonagain.

Laphaminterrupted.“Explainwhythetipof

theWashingtonMonumentisadifferentcolorthanthebottom?”

“Itismadeofaluminum,”saidthechurchman.

“AreyoubuildingsomethingsimilarforPresidentLincoln?”

I’vesnaggedaliveone,thoughttheminister.IfIcanonlylandhim.

“Wehavenodesignyet,

sir.Congressfailstofundthememorial,sothemoneyhasnotbeenallocatedtopayforanyproposeddesigns,andwon’tbeuntilprivatecitizensstepupandtakecharge.”

Aclosedcarriagepulledupnearby.Twomensteppedoutandwalkedtowardthem.Onecarriedaphysician’smedicalbag.HeaddressedLapham,speakingslowlyandloudly,“Goodafternoon,Mr.Lapham.Howarewefeeling

today?”“Whothedevilareyou?”Totheminister’s

astonishment,theyseizedClydeLaphambyhisarmsandmarchedhimforcefullytowardthecarriage.

Theministerhurriedafterthem.“Youthere!Stop.Whatareyoudoing?”

“I’mhisdoctor.Itistimeforhimtocomehome.”

Theministerwasnotabouttoletthisopportunity

bemarchedaway.“Now,holdon!”

Thedoctorturnedabruptlyandblockedtheminister’spathwhilehiscompanionwalkedLaphamoutofearshot.“Youaredisturbingmypatient.”

“He’snotill.”Thedoctorpulledapistol

fromhisbag.Hepointeditintheminister’sface.“Turnaround.Walkaway.”

“Whereareyoutaking—”

Thedoctorcockedthepistol.Theministerturnedaroundandwalkedaway,headswimming,untilthecarriageclatteredoff.

—Theassassinhaddemandeddoublecanvascurtainstoshieldthemonument’swestwindowjustincasesometouristgotnosy.Sureenough,throughthecurtainscamea

querulousdemand:“What’sgoingoninthere?”

“It’sapainter,”answeredoneoftheArmyprivatesresponsibleforguidingvisitors.“He’smakingpicturesoftheview.”

“Why’shewalledin?”“Sonoonebothershim.”“WhatifIwanttoseeout

thatwindow?”“Comebackanotherday,

sir.”“Seehere!I’mfrom

Virginia.IcameespeciallytoviewVirginiafromthisgreatheight.”

Theassassinwaited.Anewvoice,thesmooth-

talkingsergeantinchargeofthedetailwhohadbeentippedlavishly:“Iinviteyou,sir,toviewMarylandandtheDistrictofColumbiatodayandreturnnextweektodevoteyourfullattentiontoVirginia.Itwillbemypersonalpleasuretoissueyou

afreepasstotheelevator.”Theassassintookawell-

lubricatedcast-ironscrewjackfromthecarpetbagandinserteditsidewaysinthewindow,holdingthebaseagainstonebarandtheloadpadagainsttheotherandrotatingtheleverarmthatturnedtheliftingscrew.Thejackwaspowerfulenoughtoraisethecornerofabarn.Employedsideways,itspreadtheverticalbarsasifthey

weremadeofmacaroni.

—ClydeLapham’scaptorstimedtheirarrivalattheWashingtonMonumenttocoincidewiththeelevator’sfinalascentoftheday.Themanwiththephysician’sbagsteppedaheadtospeakprivatelywiththesoldieratthedoor,palmingagoldpieceintohishandashe

explained,“Theoldgenthasbeenaskingalldaytocomeupandnowthatwe’reherehe’salittleapprehensive.Iwonderifwecouldjustscoothimaboardquickly.Myresidentwilldistracthimuntilwegettothetop...Whoishe?Wealthydonortomyhospital,justasgenerousamanasyou’llevermeet.Atitanofindustry,inhisday...”

Theprivate’snose

wrinkledatthesmellofchloroformonthedoctor’sfrockcoat.Thericholdguywasreelingonhisfeet.Theresidentwasholdingtight.

“Don’tworry,hewon’tcauseanytrouble.He’sjustnervous—itwillmeansomuchtohim.”

Theprivateusheredthemintotheelevatorandwhisperedtotheothertouristsnottotroubletheoldman.

Theylettheothersofffirstand,whennoonesaw,theysteppedbehindthecanvas.

Theassassinpointedatthewindow.Oneofthebarshadsnapped.Theotherwasbent.Therewasplentyofroombetweenthem.Lapham’seyeswererollinginhishead.“What’sthatstink?”

“Chloroform.”“Thoughtso.Whatarewe

doinghere?”

“Flying,”saidtheassassin.Athissignal,thetwomenliftedLaphamoffhisfeetandthrewhimheadfirstoutthewindow.

Startledbythewindrushingpasthishead,ClydeLaphamsoonfoundhisattentionfixedplacidlyonthegraniteblocksracingbylikealonggraytrainofrailroadcars.Hehadalwayslikedtrains.

—InthepassengerhalloftheBaltimore&OhioDepot,thepublictelephoneoperatorsignaledasuccessfullong-distanceconnectiontoNewYork.

Theassassinclosedthedoorofthesoundproofedbooth.

“Ihaveaccomplishedthemission.”

“Mission?”askedBillMatters.“Thisisaweakline.Ican’thearyou.”

“Ihaveaccomplishedthemission.”

“Whatmission?”“WhentheNewYork

papersgetthenews,they’llfloodthestreetswithextras.”

Eventhroughaweakconnection,Mattersheardtheoverblownexuberancethatcouldmeantrouble.“Whatnews?”

“ClydeLaphamleapedtohisdeathfromtheWashingtonMonument.”

“What?”“Asyourequested,his

deathwillseeminnocent.”“No.”“Thepoormanwas

deranged.HejumpedfromthetopoftheWashingtonMonument.”

“No!”“Youcouldtellthathe

planneditalongtime.He

broughtabarnjacktoforceopenthebarswideenoughtoslipthrough.Hearrangedforthewindowtobeblockedofffrompublicview.Heanticipatedeverydetail.Apparently,anartistwaspaintingviewsfortheArmy—theArmyrunsthemonument,youknow.Dementiaisastrangeaffliction,isn’tit?Thatamancouldbesimultaneouslysoconfusedandsoprecise.”

“No!No!No!”“What’swrong?”BillMattersraged.He

clamoredhestillhaduseforLapham.Hehadnotorderedhimkilled.Hewassoangrythatheshoutedthingshecouldnotmean.“Areyouinsane?”

Theassassinhookedtheearpiecebackonthetelephone,paidtheclerkattheoperator’sdesk,andstrolledoutofthestationand

upNewJerseyAvenueuntiltheincidentwasforgotten.

I13

saacBellwalkedacrossEStreet,peeringintoshopwindows,andturned

down7th,whereheproppedabootonahorsetroughandmimedtyinganonexistentshoelace.ThenhecontinuedalongPennsylvaniaAvenue,skirtedtheCapitol,and

turneddownNewJersey.AheadstoodtheBaltimore&OhioDepot.

Theclocktowerwasringinghistrain.

HecollectedatickethehadreservedfortheRoyalBluepassengerfliertoNewYork.Theclerkwarnedthatitwasleavinginfiveminutes.Bellhurriedacrossthestationhall,onlytopullupshortwhenanancientbeggarinrags,atornslouchhat,and

whitebearddeeplyfrostedwithageshuffledintohispathandextendedafilthyhand.

Bellfumbledinhispocket,searchingforacoin.

“Rockefeller’sdetectivesarestillonyourtail,”thebeggarmuttered.

“Skinnygentinafrockcoat,”saidBellwithoutlookingback.“Hetookoverfromatall,widefellowon7thStreet.Anymore?”

JosephVanDornscratchedhispowder-whitenedbeardandpretendedtoextractalouse.“Theyputamanonthetraindressedasapriest.Goodluck,Isaac.You’realmostin.”

“DidtheboysmanagetofollowMr.Rockefeller?”

VanDorn’sproudgrinnearlyundidhisdisguise.

“RightuptothebackdoorofthePersianembassy.”

“Persia?”Ednacalled

Rockefellerthemasteroftheunexpected.Shehadthatright.“WhatdoeshewantwithPersia?”

“Playyourcardsrightandyou’llbeinapositiontofindout.”

BelldroppedacoininVanDorn’shand.“Hereyougo,old-timer.Doyourfriendsafavor,spenditatabathhouse.”

Heshowedhisticketandheadedoutontheplatform,

hurriedthelengthoftheblue-and-goldtrain,peeringthroughthegleamingleaded-glasswindows,andboardedtheRoyalBlue’sfirstcar.Thenheworkedhiswayswiftlythroughthecars.Thelocomotive,arocket-fast,high-wheeledAtlantic4-4-2,whistledthedoubleaheadsignal.

Fourcarsback,hespottedtheStandardOildetectivedressedlikeapriest.He

clampedapowerfulhandaroundhisdogcollar.Thelocomotivehuffedsteam,gentlyforasmoothstart,andthedriversbeganturning.Bellliftedthepriestoutofhisseatbythescruffofhisneck.Passengersstared.Bellmarchedhimoffthetrain.

“TellMr.Rockefellerhe’swastinghismoneyandmytimeshadowingmewithamateurs.”

“Whatareyoutalking

about?”thedetectiveblustered.“Howdareyouassaultamanofthecloth.”

Thetrainwasrolling,thesideofacoachbrushingBell’sshoulder.“Tellthethinmaninthefrockcoatandhisfatfriendinthederbynexttimetheyfollowme,I’llpunchboththeirnoses.”

BellrantocatchupwiththeRoyalBlue.

“Andthatgoesdoublefortheclergy.”

—VoiceswereraisedwhenIsaacBellwalkedintotheclubcarlookingforawell-earnedcocktail.Theloudestbelongedtoared-facedUnitedStatessenatorinadarksacksuit,afloridnecktieofthetypePresidentRooseveltwasmakingpopular,andahawser-thickgoldwatchchaindraped

acrosshisamplebelly.Hewashectoringtheonlywomaninthecar,NellieMatters,whowaswearingawhiteshirt,abroadbeltaroundherslimwaist,astraightskirttoherankles,andaplainstrawhatadornedwitharedribbon.

BellorderedaManhattanandaskedtheperspiringbartender,“Whatisgoingon?”

“Thesuffragettestarted

it.”“Suffragist,”Bell

corrected.“Seemstobeenjoyingherself.”Hereyeswerebright,andshehaddotsofhighcolorinhercheeks.Bellthoughthehadneverseenherquitesoprettybefore.

“Theyweredebatingenfranchisement,hammerandtongs,beforeweevengotrolling.”Thebartenderfilledhisglass.“Wedon’toftensee

aladyintheclubcar,itbeingabastion,shallwesay,of‘manliness.’”

“Thegentsappearwillingtomakeanexceptionforalooker.”

“Butthesenatorprefersanaudiencetoalooker.”

“Yetanotherreasonnottotrustamanwhoenterspolitics,”saidIsaacBell.

Thesenatorloosedablastofindignation.“Ireadinthenewspapers,MissMatters,

youintendedtoflyyourballoonovertheCapitolanddroptorpedoesontheCongress!Andwouldhavedroppedthemifthewindhadnotblownyourballoontheotherway!”

“Imadeaterriblemistake,”saidNellieMatters,herclearvoicecarryingthelengthofthecar.

“Mistake?”“Iforgottoreadthe

weatherreport.Aballoonist

mustalwayskeeptrackofwhichwaythewindblows.”

“Goodlord,woman,youadmityouintendedtobombCongress?”

“Nonsense!”Nellie’seyesflashed.Shetossedherhead,andeverymanintheclubcarleanedintohearheranswer.“Iwouldneverharmasoul—notevenasenator.”Sheturnedandopenedherarmswideasiftotakeeveryoneinthecarintoherconfidence.

“MyonlypurposeinsoaringovertheCongresswastoexposethemembersfortheidiotstheyare.”

Thatdrewchucklesandcatcalls.

IsaacBellraisedhisvoiceinastrongbaritone:“Howcouldflyingyourballoonoversenatorsandcongressmendothat?”

NellieflashedhimasmilethatsaidHello,Mr.Bell,thanksforsettingupmynext

line:“Myballoonsoarsongasorhotair.Ihadnofearofrunningoutofeitherintheirvicinity.”

Thecareruptedinlaughter.Businessmenpoundedtheirpalmspink.Salesmenslappedtheirthighs.Fromeverydirection,dyed-in-the-woolanti-woman-votersviedtobuyheraglassofwine.

“Nothankyou!Idon’tdrink.”ShecastBellaglance

thatclearlysaidExcept,ofcourse,whendiningonjackrabbitinTexas.“But,gentlemen,inlieuofyourglassesofwine,IwillacceptcontributionstotheNewWoman’sFlyover.”

“NewWoman’sFlyover?”“What’sthat?”“TheNewWoman’s

Flyoverisastuntwhenafleetofred,white,andblueballoonsfullofsuffragiststaketotheskytobooman

amendmenttotheConstitutionenfranchisingwomenvoters.”

“Neverheardofit.”“Ijustthoughtitup!And

yougentlemenaregoingtomakethefirstcontributions,aren’tyou?”

“Openyourcarpetbag,MissMatters,”IsaacBellcalled.“I’llpassthehat.”

Hewhippedhishatoffhishead,deftlypalmedthederringerholsteredwithin,

andwalkedthelengthoftheclubcarlikeadeaconuntilitwasbrimfulwithcontributions.Nellieopenedhercarpetbagwide.Bellpouredthemoneyin.

Nelliecalled,“Thankyou,gentlemen!Everysuffragistinthenationwillthankyou,andyourwiveswillwelcomeyouhomewarmly.”

“Anothercoincidentalmeeting?”Bellasked.“Butnocrimethistime.Atleast

noneyet.”“It’snocoincidence.”“Thenhowdowehappen

tobeonthesametrain?”“Iaskedtheclerkatthe

WillardHotelforyourforwardingaddress.TheYaleClubofNewYorkCity.”

“WereyouplanningatriptoNewYork?”

“Idecidedtovisitmyfather.”

“Spur-of-the-moment?”“WheneverIlike,”she

smiledback.Bellsaid,“Iwouldliketo

meetyourfather.”“HowshouldIintroduce

you?”Nellieasked.“Fatherwillnotcottontoaprivatedetectiveinvestigatinghiscorporation.”

“I’mnotonthecommissioncaseanymore.”

“Whynot?”“It’salongstory,”said

Bell.“Wehavetimeforalong

story.It’ssixhourstoNewYork.”

“Let’sjustsayitwon’tbeanofficialvisit,”IsaacBelllied.

Onlypartalie.ThechancetoobserveSpikeHopewell’sformerpartnerinhisownhomewouldbeabsolutelyofficial,butitwouldnotrequiremuchpretensetoactthepartofamanwhodesiredtovisitBillMatters’daughter.Either

daughter.“Whydon’tyouintroduce

measagentlemancaller?”“Fatherwon’tbelieveyou.

HeknowsIamnotthesortofwomanwhositsathomewaitingforgentlemancallers.”

“ThentellhimI’mamanhopingforarideinyourballoon.”

“Youcanrideinmyballoonanytimeyou’llmakeaspeechforwomen’svotes.”

“Actually,Irodeinaballoononce,inthecircus.Isthatwhereyoudiscoveredballoons?Inthecircus?”

“Iprefertheaterstocircuses.They’remorefantastical.”

“Idon’tagree.IranawaytoacircuswhenIwasaboy.”

“Youmusttellmeaboutthecircussometime.”

“Howaboutnow?”“Spur-of-the-moment?”“Whateveryoulike.”

“Iwouldliketoeatdinner,”saidNellieMatters.“I’mhungry,andit’smyturntotakeyou.”

—AtCentralStation,thetwelve-year-oldboyspeddlingtheWashingtonPostLateExtraEditionwereshrillasaflockofjays.

“TouristfallsfromWashingtonMonument.”

“Extra!Extra!Touristfalls!”

ArchieAbbotttossedpenniesforthepaperandrantothehorsecabs.Mr.VanDornhadsentawirecareoftheDanville,Virginia,stationmasterorderinghimtoreporttheinstanthistrainpulledintoWashington.TophandslikeIsaacBelltookdirectsummonsfromtheBossforgranted,butthiswashisfirstoneever.

“WillardHotel.Fastasyoucan.”

Uponarrival,hedashedupthestairsintotheVanDornoffices.

“TheBosswiredmytrainatDanville.Saidtocomerightover.”

Thefrontdeskmanspokecalmlyintoavoicetube.AblaséapprenticewalkedArchieintoJosephVanDorn’soffice.Withhiscoatoffandhissleevesrolledup

hisbulgingforearms,VanDorn,Archiethought,lookedlessthecompanyproprietorthanaprosperousbricklayer.

“Abbott,you’reaPrincetonman.”

“Yes,sir.”“I’vegotsomethingright

upyouralley.”“HowcanIhelp,sir?”VanDornnoddedatthe

extraeditionthatArchiehadtuckedunderhisarm.“The‘tourist’whofellfromthe

memorialshaftwasnotatourist,andIdon’tbelievehefell.Thepapersdon’thaveityet,butitwasClydeLapham.”

“StandardOil?”“Rumorhasit,hejumped.

Ifhedid,Iwanttoknowwhy.Ifhedidn’tjump,Iwanttoknowwhohelpedhimoutthewindow.”

“MayIask,sir,whatmakesyouthinkhedidn’tjump?”

“OurinvestigationhasestablishedthatnotoneoftheStandardOilGanghasaguiltyboneinhisbody.Ontheremotechancethatonewaseverstrickenwithremorse,itwouldn’tbeClydeLapham.Hehadnodoubtthatmakingmoneywashisdivineright.Something’sfishy.That’swhereyoucomein.”

“Yes,sir,”Archiesaid,wonderingwhatithadtodo

withbeingaPrincetongraduate.

“Theywon’tletourmennearthemonument.WereitaNavyfacility,Iwouldhavenotroublegainingaccess.ButIamnotsowellconnectedwiththeArmy,andI’verunhead-onintoasnobofaColonelDanEgan,wholooksdownonprivatedetectivesasnotworthyofhisexaltedfriendship.Doyougetmydrift?”

Archiewassuddenlyonfirmground,withintimateknowledgeofthefinedistinctionsofthesocialorder.“Yes,sir.Armyofficersaremorelikelytobeill-bredandhavechipsontheirshouldersthantheirNavycounterparts.”

“Thisparticularofficeriscarryingachipbiggerthanaredwood.Fortunately,I’velearnedhehasasonattendingPrinceton.I’mbettinghe’llbe

mightilyimpressedbythefactthatyoumatriculated,aswellasbyyourmanner,whichislessthatofaprivatedetectivethanaprivilegedlayabout.NotthatI’msuggestingyoulayabout,necessarily,butIsuspectyoucanactthepart.”

“I’llrehearse,”Archiesaiddrily.

“Youdon’thavetime,”VanDornshotback.“ColonelEganisatthe

monumentrightnow,inthemiddleofthenight,leadingwhattheArmyoptimisticallycallsaninquiry.Getoverthereandsweet-talkyourwayinbeforetheytrampletheevidenceandinsertwordsinthemouthsofwitnesses.”

Archiedoubtedhe’dmakemuchheadwaywalkinguptoafullcolonelandsayinghewenttoPrinceton.Heventured,“Thismightrequiremorethan‘sweettalking,’

Mr.VanDorn.”TheBossstared,hiseyes

suddenlyhard.“Theagencypaysyouhandsomelytodo‘morethansweettalking.’”

“I’lldomybest.”“Seethatyoudo.”

J14

osephVanDornwasstillathisdeskwhenArchiereportedback,

shortlybeforemidnight.“Suicideormurder?”“It’smorecomplicated

thanyoumightexpect,Mr.VanDorn.”

TheglowerVanDorn

leveledathimremindedArchieAbbottofanencounteronsafariwithanEastAfricanrhinoceros.“LetmedecidewhatIexpect.Inaword,‘suicide’or‘murder’?”

“Inaword,”saidArchie,“theArmywas‘hoodwinked.’”

JosephVanDorn,sowinteryamomentearlier,brokeintoadelightedsmile—asArchieknewhewould.BeamingathisoldU.S.

MarineCorpsNCOsword,whichhungfromhiscoattree,theBossasked,“WhatdidtheArmyfallforthistime?”

—IsaacBelldoubtedtherewasroominNellieMatters’excitinglifeforaboyfriend.ShewasgreatcompanyatdinnerintheRoyal’sbeautifuldiningcar,

entertaininghim,andeavesdroppersatnearbytables,withtalesofhersuffragisttravels,balloonmishaps,andrivalrieswithsuffragettes—“thedreadAmandaFaire”—whilespinninglikecottoncandyhernewlyinventedNewWoman’sFlyover.BythetimetheygotoffthetraininJerseyCity,thesuffragist’spublicitystuntdetailswereinplace.Allthatremainedwas

toraisethemoneyforahundredballoons,aprospectshethoughtnotatalldaunting.

ButontherailroadferryacrosstheHudsontoNewYorkCity,Bellsensedasuddenshifttowardtheromantic.Hecreditedthebeautifullightsofthedowntownskyscrapersandthechillwindtheybravedondeck.Hewrappedhisarmaroundhershoulderand

Nelliehuddledclose.Justastheboatlanded,shecurleddeeperinhisarm.“Idon’tusuallymeetmenIlike.Idon’tmeantosaythatIdislikemen.ButIjustdon’tfindmostofthemthatlikeable.DoyouknowwhatImean?”

“No,”saidIsaacBell.“Whatisityoudon’tfindlikeable?”

“Isthatadetectivetraittoalwaysaskquestions?”

“Yes.”“You’reasbadasmy

sisterthereporter.”Ahansomcabwhisked

themacrosstown.Sheheldhishand,and,alltoosoon,thecabpulleduptotheMatterstownhouseinGramercyPark,aquietoasisofaneighborhoodthatpredatedtheCivilWar.JustacrossthenarrowparkwasoneofArchieAbbott’sclubs,ThePlayers.Thecab

clatteredoff.BellwalkedNellietothefrontdoor.Thehousewasmadeofbrickwithgleamingblackshutters.

“Whatahandsomehouse.”

“WemovedupintheworldwiththeStandard,”Nellierepliedassheslippedakeyinthedoor.Shewhirledaroundsuddenlyandfacedhim.“ComebacktomorroweveningtomeetFather.”

“Asaspiringballoonistor

gentlemancaller?”NellieMattersgaveIsaac

Bellherbiggestsmile.“Both.”

Shedisappearedbehindthedoor.

Helingeredonthesidewalk.Hehadtoadmitthathewasmorethanalittledazzledbythevibrantandwittyyoungwoman.

Suddenlyhewasalert,seeingmovementfromthecornerofhiseye.Aslight

figure,awomaninacloak,materializedfromtheshadowsofGramercyPark.Lamplightcrossedherface.

“Edna?”heasked,caughtoffbasebyhowhappyhewastoseeher.

“Iwasjustcominghome,”sheanswered.“Ididn’twanttointerruptyouandNellie.”

Sheseemedupset.“Areyouallright?”EdnaMatterspausedto

considerheranswer.“Not

entirely.Imean,I’minabitofaquandary.”

“Goodorbad?”“IfIknew,itwouldn’tbe

aquandary,wouldit?”“Tellmewhatitis,”said

Bell.“I’mafairhand,sometimes,atsortinggoodfrombad.Comeon,we’lltakeawalk.”

Thehourwaslateandthewell-dressedcouplemighthavedrawntheattentionofthieveswhowouldattemptto

separatethemfromtheirmoney.Thatisuntilacloserinspectionrevealedagentlightonhisfeetandcoldofeye.TheywalkeduntilthelightsgrewbrighteronBroadway,itssidewalkscrowdedwithpeoplebustlinginandoutofhotels,restaurants,andvaudevilletheaters.

“Igrewupwithoilderricks,”Ednasaidsuddenly.“Pipelinesand

breakouttanks.AndafatherbeatenrepeatedlybytheStandard.”

“IsthathowyoucametowritetheHistoryofUnder-handed?”

“DoyouthinkIhadachoice?”

“Idon’tknow,”saidBell.“Nelliedidn’trespondtoyourfather’slossesbybecomingareporter.”

“Wouldn’tyousaythatpursuingjusticeforwomenis

theothersideofthesamecoin?”

“How?”“Oftryingtomakethings

right.”“No,”saidBell.

“Enfranchisementisacause,aworthycause.Writingthetruthismorelikeacalling.Somaybeyou’reright.Maybeyouhadnochoice.”

“You’renotmakingthiseasier.”

“I’msorry,butIdon’t

knowwhatyourquandaryis.Notmakingwhateasier?”

Shefellsilentagain.Belltriedtoreengageher.“WhataboutNellie?Didshetakeyourfather’slossesashardasyoudid?”

Ednathoughtamoment.“NellieloveshimasfiercelyasIdo.Butshewasn’taroundforasmuchofit.She’straveledeversincesheputherteensandpinaforesbehindher.Heretoday,gone

tomorrow.”“Maybeshewastryingto

getawayfromthem.”“Idon’tknow.She’s

alwaysontheroad—andathomewherevershealights.”

“Youtravel,too.”“Likeahermitcrab.I

carrymyhomewithme.NomatterwhereIlandattheendoftheday,I’matmytypewriter.Ithoughtitwastimetostopwriting,mycrusadeover.”

“Isthereapurposetostopyourwriting?”

“IthoughtIwasreadytostop.Butthenewoilstrikesmakeitanewstory.AndnowtheunrestinBakuthreatensshortagesthatcouldupendthepetroleumindustryallovertheworld.ImaginewhatmustbegoingthroughMr.Rockefeller’smindatamomentlikethis.”

“WhatisinBakuforhim?”

“Halftheworld’soil.Andawell-establishedroutetothecustomers.IftheyburntheBakufields,whowillsupplytheRussians’andtheNobels’andtheRothschilds’markets?JDR,that’swho,evenifit’strueheretired,whichIneverbelieved...Listentome!I’mtooobsessedwithJDRtostopreportingonhim.JustwhenIthinkI’mdone,Ilearnsomethingnew.”

“Likewhat?”

“I’veheardrumors—speculation,really—thatRockefelleruseshispubliciststocommunicatesecretlywithhispartners.Theyplantastory.Itgetsprintedandreprintedineverypaperintheworld,andthosewhoknowhiscodegethismessage...Boy!”

Shegavetwopenniestoapassingnewsboyhawkingtheearly-morningeditionoftheSunandscannedthepaperin

theblazingwindowofalobsterpalace.“Here!I’vetracedthisonebacktolastJanuary.It’ssupposedlyaletterhewrotetohisSundayschoolclassfromhisvacationtoFrance.‘Delightfulbreezes.Ienjoywatchingthefishermenwiththeirnetsonthebeach,andgazinguponthesunrisingoverthebeautifulMediterraneanSea.Thedayspasspleasantlyandprofitably.’”

Bellsaid,“Itsoundsperfectlyordinary.Soordinary,youwonderwhythepapersprintit.”

“AnypronouncementtherichestmaninAmericamakesisautomaticallynews.Theychangedetailstokeepituptodate.AfterhereturnedfromEuropetheyaddedtheintroductory‘Irecall,whenIwasinFrance,’etcetera.Recentlytheyadded‘thesunrising.’I’msureit’sa

message.Maybeitdoesn’tmatter—exceptitmight,andIcan’tstopwritingabouthim...”Sheleafedthroughthepaper.“Here’sanotherI’vebeenfollowinginthesocialsections.Icannotforthelifeofmefigureitout,butithastobecode.”Sheread,“‘MonmouthCountyHounds,Lakewood.FirstDragHuntoftheseason.JohnD.Rockefellerinhisautomobilewasinlineatthe

start,butsoondroppedout.’Andthis,supposedlyabouthimplayinggolf.‘StandardOilPresidentRockefellerwasgleefuloverhisfoursomevictory.Dominatedthelinkswithlongsweepingdrives—’Whyareyoustaringatme,Mr.Bell?”

“Youshouldseeyourface.You’reonfire.Congratulations!”

“Forwhat?’”“Anexcellentdecisionnot

toretire.”Suddenlyaraggedchorus

ofyoungvoicespiped,“Extra!Extra!”

GangsofnewsboysgallopedoutoftheTimesbuilding.TheyscatteredupanddownBroadwayandSeventhAvenue,wavingextraeditionsandshoutingthestory.

“RicholdmanjumpsoffWashingtonMonument.”

Bellboughtapaper.He

andEdnaleanedovertheheadline

TYCOONSUICIDE

STANDARDOILMAGNATELEAPSTODEATHFROMWASHINGTON

MONUMENT

andraceddownthecolumnandontothesecondpage.

“Whydoyouthinkhedidit?”askedBell.“Guilt?”

EdnaMattersshookherhead.“ClydeLaphamwouldhavetolookup‘guilt’inthedictionarytogetevenamurkyideaofitsmeaning.”

“Maybehefeltthegovernmentclosingin,”said

Bell,knowingtheVanDorninvestigationhadyettoturnupenoughevidencetopleaseaprosecutor.

“Ifhejumped,”saidEdna,“becausehefeltthegovernmentbreathingdownhisneck,thenhislastlivingthoughtmusthavebeenIshouldhavetakenRockefellerwithme.”ShecuppedBell’scheekinherhand.“Isaac,Imustgohome.Ihavetolookintothis...I

betyoudo,too.”

—AttheYaleClubon44thStreet,whereIsaacBelllodgedwheninNewYork,Matthew,thenighthallporter,usheredhiminside.

“Mr.ForrertelephonedaheadandaskedthatIsliphiminprivatelybytheservicedoor.Iputhiminthelounge.”

Bellboundedupthestairs.TheMainLounge,ahigh-

ceilingedroomofcouchesandarmchairs,wasdesertedatthislatehourbutforthechiefofVanDornResearch,whooccupiedmostofacouch.Forrerworewire-rimmedspectacles,asbefithisstationasascholar.Scholarlyhewas,butaverylargeman,astallasBellandtwiceaswide.Bellhadseenhimdisperseriotersby

strollingamongthem.“TheBossandIhave

beenburningupthewires.Allhell’sbrokenlooseontheCorporationsCommissioncase.”

“IjustreadtheLaphamstory.Doweknowforsurehekilledhimself?”

“No.AllweknowiswhatArchieAbbottlearnedwhenhewormedhiswayintotheofficialinvestigation.Mr.VanDornwasimpressed,

whichheisn’talwayswithArchie.”

“WhatdidArchielearn?”“Someone—ifnot

Lapham,thenpresumablyourassassin—pulledanelaboratefastoneontheArmy,whooperatethemonument.Soelaboratethatitcanonlybecharacterizedasbaroque.”

“‘Baroque’?Whatdoyoumean,baroque?Complicated?”

“Morethancomplicated.

Bizarre.Whimsicalasanelaborateprank,exceptamandied.It’shardtoimaginetheypulleditoff.Hardertoreckonwhytheywenttosuchtroubletokilloneoldman.”

“Howcouldhefitoutthewindow?”askedBell.“TheybarredthemupafterthatlunaticAnti-SaloonLeaguertriedtojumpwithabanner.”

“Thebarswereforcedopenwithabarnjack.”

“Ittakestimetocranka

barnjack.Whydidn’tanyonestophim?”

“Noonesaw.Thewindowonthewesthadbeencordonedofffromtheobservationareawithcanvasdrapestoensuretheprivacyofanartistpaintingtheview.”

“Wherewastheartist?”“Nooneisexactlysure

theyeversawtheartist.Heleftbehindhispaintboxandhiseaselbutnopainting.

AccordingtoArchie,it’snotclearhedidmorethansetuphiseasel.Andbeforeyouaskhisname,itwasverylikelyafalsename.”

“Whatwasit?”“Thisiswherethingsturn

complicated.I’llgettohisnameinamoment.”

“I’vehadaverylongday,Grady.Whatisgoingon?”

“Idon’tknow.OtherthantosaythattheArmy—oratleasttheU.S.Armycolonel

incommandoftheWashingtonMonument,whomArchieinterviewed—gavetheartistpermissiontopainttheviewprivatelybehindcanvascurtainsbecausepermissionwasrequestedasapersonalfavorbyafamousArmysharpshooter.”

H15

ewonthePresident’sMedalin1902.”

IsaacBellsankinhisarmchairtoponderthat.“Inotherwords,he’sthebest.”

“Themostaccuratemarksmanin1902.”

“Theyshootuptoa

thousandyards,”saidBell.“What’shisname?”

“PrivateBillyJones.”“Peoplewhoare

legitimatelynamedJonesandSmithshouldbeissuedspecialidentifyingcardstoprovetheydidn’tmakeitup.”

“PrivateBilly‘Jones’desertedtheFirstRegimentofNewark,NewJerseyNationalGuard,shortlyafterhewonhismedal.”

“WhydidtheArmygive

permissiontopaintinthemonument?Whydidn’ttheyjustarresthim?”

“Hedidn’tasktheentireArmy.Heaskedtheidiotcolonelincommandofthemonument.Mailedhimaletter.Thedamnedfoolhadnotheardthenewsthattheirchampionsharpshooterdeserted.Ithappenedthreeyearsagoandit’slikelytheArmycovereditup,beingembarrassed.”

“NottomentionterrifiedtotellTR,”saidBell.

AsmilelitForrer’ssolemnexpression.“Grimthought,Isaac.Teddyisnotapresidentthatacareerofficerwouldwanttodisappoint.”

“Sonoonesawthebarsjackedopenbehindthecanvaserectedforanartistnoonesaw.Therefore,noonesawwhetheroldLaphamjumpedorwasthrown.”

“Twomenbroughthim

there.Doctors.”“Thenwe’llstartwiththe

doctors.”“Unfortunately,no.”“Nowwhat?”askedBell.“TheArmyhasn’t

informedthepoliceyet,sothenewsreportersdon’tknow,butArchie’sfriendthehalf-witcoloneladmittedthedoctorsvanished,andnooneknowsiftheyreallyweredoctorsormerelycarryingmedicalbags.”

“Furthersuggestingitwasmurder,”saidBell.

ForrerrepeatedasayingBellhadheardfromhimoften:“ThejobofthechiefofVanDornResearchistosortfactfromassumption.”

“Youareprovokingmetowardsarcasm,Grady.Ifitwasn’tmurder,thenthemenpretendingtobedoctorswhodeliveredLaphamtothetopofthemonumentcarriedabarnjackintheirmedicalbag

andleftitwithLapham,whousedittojackopenthebarssohecouldjumpoutthewindow.”

“Seenthatway,itdoessuggestmurder,”Forreradmitted.

“Butlikeyoujustsaid,whygotosomuchtroubletokilloneoldguy?Youcouldpophimontheheadandsayhefelloffhischair...Infact,it’slesscomplicatedthanshowy.”

“Didourassassinusethenameofafamoussharpshooter,gamblingthatthecoloneldidn’tknowhewasadeserter?”

“Orisourassassinthedeserterhimself?He’sprovenhimselfachampionmarksman.”Bellshookhishead.“Itdoesn’tmakesense.Whywouldhedrawsuchattentiontohimselfifhe’sbeensafelydisappearedforthreeyears?”

ItstruckIsaacBellthattheassassin’sremarkableshootingwasmerelyameans.Hehadbeenthinkingabouthimasasniper.Nowhehadtothinkabouthimasamurdererwhowouldusevariousmeanstokill.

“Youweregoingtotellmethesupposedartist’sname.”

Forrernodded.“Atthispoint,itmovesintotherealmofthebizarre.Theartist

calledhimselfIsaacBell.”“What?”“Heknowsyou’re

workingupthecase,Isaac.”IsaacBellstoodoutofhis

chairandstalkedthroughtheemptyloungetothetallwindowsthatoverlookedWest44thStreet.Athinsmileformedonhislips.

“He’scallingyouout!”saidForrer,whohadgrownupintheDeepSouthwherecallingamanoutmeant

parkingyourselfonhisfrontlawnwithaguninyourhanduntilhecameoutshooting.

“Soundsthatway.”Bellstareddownat44thStreet.Carriagesandmotorlimousineswerereturningforthenighttothemanystablesandgaragesontheblock.

Suddenlyhestaredunseeingoutthewindow.“Atlast.”

“Atlastwhat?”Forrerasked.

“Atlasthe’smadeamistake.”

“Thinkinghecantakeyou?”

“That,too.”Thetalldetectiveturned

abruptlyandcrossedthebigroominseveralstrides,hisfacealightwithenergy.“We’refinallygettingsomething.Let’sfindoutwhothischampionreallyis.”

Forrerclimbedoutofhischairandrosetohisfull

height.“I’llgobacktotheoffice.”Hekeptacotthere,andBellknewthatafterashortnaphewoulddiveintohisfiles.Assistantsandapprenticesarrivingforworkearlywouldfindtheirbossdeepinnewspapersandmagazinesandtelegramsfromtheagency’sprivatewires.

Bellwalkedhimdowntothefrontdoor.

“There’ssomethingelseI

wantyoutolookinto.”“What’sthat?”“EdnaMattershasan

interestingtheory.”HetoldhimEdna’stheoryaboutJohnD.Rockefeller’snewspapercode.

Forrerwasintriguedbytheideaoffar-flungRockefelleroperativesreadingthenewspapersforhisinstructions.“Nottomentionthosehundredsof‘correspondents’spyingfor

StandardOilaroundtheworld,readingthepapersandrealizingwhathewantsinformationon.”

“Canyoucrackit?”“Itisn’tonlywhathe

says,”Forrerexplained,“butwhenhesaysit.He’sreferringtothingstheyalreadyknow,tellingthemnowwewait,nowwegetready,nowwemove.”

“CheckyourfilesbacktoJanuarywhenRockefeller

wasinCannes.”“I’llstartearlier.”“Thephraseabout

watchingchildrendigginginthesandappearsonlyinrecentweeks.”

“I’llpayparticularattentiontoit.WhatdoyouwantmetotellMr.VanDorn?”

“Tellhimtheassassinisnotquiteasprofessionalashethinksheis.”

“He’sgoingtoaskme

whatyoumean.I’dliketohaveananswerready.”

“Tellhimtheassassinisashow-off.”

“Whatdoyousupposehe’llmakeofthat?”

“He’llmakeofitwhathetaughtme:Show-offstripthemselvesupwhentheyforgettowatchwherethey’regoing.”

“Andwhereareyougoing,Isaac?”

“Westchester.”

“Toseethegreatman?”“Toseewhatmakeshim

tick...Here’sanotherthoughtforMr.VanDorn.Ifourassassiniswillingtothrowpeopleoutwindowsinsteadofshootingthem,thenhe’sevenlesspredictablethanaprofessionalsniper.”

Theyshookhands.“Waitaminute!Dowe

knowwhyClydeLaphamwasinWashington?”

Forrersaid,“Iassume—”

“IthoughttheResearchDepartmentneverassumes.”

“I’llgetrightonit...Hey,whereareyougoing?”

IsaacBellwasstridingintothestreet,wavingafistfulofmoneyatachauffeurabouttogarageanAcmeOperaLimousine.“Grady!”hecalledoverhisshoulder.“DomeafavorandsendwiresinmynametoNellieMattersandJohnD.Rockefeller.Apologizefor

breakingtomorrow’sappointmentsandaskwoulditbeconvenienttorescheduleforthedayafter.”

“Nowwhereareyougoing?”

“BacktoWashington.”“It’sthemiddleofthe

night.”“I’llmakethe

CongressionalExpress.”Hepaidtheyawningchauffeurtospeedhimtotherailroadferryat42ndStreet.

Theonea.m.expresswasfullybooked.Evenhisrailroadpasscouldn’tgethimaberth.HewhippedouthisVanDornbadgeandsprintedtothefortifiedexpresscarattheheadofthetrain.Therewouldbenoberthwithcrispsheetsthere,either,norevenacomfortablechair.Buttheexpressmessenger,responsibleforjewels,gold,bearerbonds,andbanknotes,wasgladtohavethecompany

ofanotherarmedguard.Bellwaiteduntilthetrainwassafelyrollingatsixtymilesanhour,thenmadehisbedoncanvassacksstuffedwithahundredthousandinNationalBanknotes.Heawakenedtostandwatch,pistoldrawn,atstationstopsinPhiladelphia,Wilmington,andBaltimore.

—“Greekfiresaved

ConstantinoplefromtheArabnavies,Mrs.McCloud.”

ThewidowwhoownedthecoffeestandonFultonStreetwastiedtoakitchenchairwithagaginhermouth.BillMatterswatchedfromthedoorway.

Theassassin,whowasperchedontherimofthebathtubthatsharedthetinyspacewiththechair,atable,andacookstove,loosenedthegagandasked,“Whoelsedid

youtell?”Thewomanwasbrave.

“Wouldn’tyouliketoknow.”“Oh,Iwillknow...

Greekfireburnedonwater.Infact,itcontinuestoburnevenwhenyousplashwateronit.WhichtheinvadingArabsdiscoveredwhenitincineratedtheirships.ItwasmadebyasecretformulaascloselyguardedastheworkingsoftheStandardOilCompany.Therecipeislong

lost.Buteveryguessofitsingredientsincludesnaphtha.”

Theassassinheldupagallontinofnaphtha,afamiliarsolventsoldinhardwarestores,andpunchedholesinthetopwithapocketknife.

“You’llfindnaphthaintheBible,Mrs.McCloud,awordtodescribeburningliquid.It’smentionedintheOldTestament.Thename

meant‘purification.’Assyriansdippedtheirarrowsinnaphthatoshootfireattheirenemies.”

“Youthinkyouscareme?”

Theassassintightenedthegag.

“Todayinourmodern,gentlerage,weusenaphthatocleanclothesanddissolvegreaseandpaint.Butsincetheautobecamepopular,itisespeciallyimportanttogive

gasolineitskick.Haveyoueverseengasolinecatchfire?Imaginetheleapsofflamethatnaphthaproduces.Who,Mrs.McCloud?WhoelsedidyoutellthatIgaveyouthepowderthatyoufedtotheoldman?”

Sheshookherhead.Shewaswatchingthetin,buttherewasstillmorecontemptthanfearinhereyes.

Theassassinupendedthetinandpouredthenaphthaon

herhead,soakingherhairandhershabbyhousedress,thenloosenedthegagandaskedagaininthesamequiet,persistentvoice,“WhoelsedidyoutellthatIgaveyoupowdertoputinMr.Comstock’scoffee?”

TheassassinsignaledthatitwasnowMatters’turn.Steelinghimselftoact,Mattersscrapedakitchenmatchonthecookstove’sgrate.Flameflaredinaburst

ofpungentsmoke.“Whoelse?”“Noone.Iswearit.”“Noonebutthe

messengeryousenttoblackmailme,”saidMatters.

“Ididn’ttellhimeverything.Justenoughtoscareyoutomakeyoupay.”

“Youdidthatallright.”“Whereishe?”sheasked,

eyeslockedontheflame.“Who?Yourblackmail

messenger?Hedied.Afterhe

tolduswheretofindyou.”Mattersturnedtotheassassin,whowaswatchingintently.“Shebelievesme,andnowIbelieveher.”

Mrs.McCloud’sentirebodysaggedwithdespair,andshewhispered,“Myson.”

“Askher,”saidtheassassin,“howshetracedmetoyou.”

BillMatterssaidtoMrs.McCloud,“Youheardthequestion.Whatmadeyou

thinkIwastheonetoblackmail?”

Thewidowsuddenlylookedtwentyyearsolderandhadtearsinhereyes.Shewhispered,“Mysonfollowedtheoldmantohisoffice.Hesawyoutogether.Hesawyoumeeteverydayinatearoom.Likeyouhadsecretsawayfromtheoffice.”

“Yoursonwasagoodguesser.”Totheassassinhesaid,“Ibelieveher.Doyou?”

TheassassinsteppedcloserandstaredintoMrs.McCloud’seyes.

“Sayitagain:Nooneelse.”

“Nooneelse.Iswearit.”“Doyoubelieveher?”

Mattersaskedagain.“Itoldyou,Ibelieveher.”“Allright.”“But,”saidtheassassin,

“shewillneverleaveyouinpeaceuntilshedies.”

BillMattersponderedin

silence.Suddenlyheheardhisownvoicebabblingfoolishness.“Whatcouldshesay?Whowouldbelieveher?”

Theassassinsaid,“TheywilldigComstockupandadministertheMarshtest.Whatdoyousupposetheywillfindinhisremains?”

Mattersshookhishead,thoughheknewofcourse.

“Poudredesuccession!ThatisFrench,youpoorman,

for‘inheritancepowder,’whichisaeuphemismfor‘arsenic.’Inotherwords,theywillhangyouforpoisoningAverellComstock.”

“Iwon’ttellasoul,”saidMrs.McCloud.“Ipromise.”

BillMatterskeptshakinghishead.Hecouldnotabidethewoman’sfear.MaryMcCloud’sscornfulcontempthadunderscoredthedeadlythreatofblackmail.Butherfearpriedopenhisheart.He

didnotdoubtthatmostmenwerehisenemies.Butnotwomen.Twicewidowed,fatherofdaughtersgiventohimbywomenheloved,heheardhimselfwhisperacoward’sconfession.

“Idon’tknowifIcandothis.”

“That’swhatyouhavemefor,”saidtheassassin.

W16henIsaacBellgotbackfromWashington,

D.C.,heborrowedaStanleySteamerfromagoodfriendofArchieAbbott,awell-offNewYorkerwho,asArchieputit,“passedhisdaysinaquiet,blameless,clubable

way.”HedrovenorthofManhattanintoWestchester,passingthroughSpuytenDuyvil,Yonkers,andDobbsFerry.Theroad,pavedwithconcreteinsomesections,asphaltedinothers,graveledhereandthere,andalongafewstretchesstilldirt,passedcountryclubs,prosperousfarms,andtavernscateringtoautomobilistsfromthecity.HearrivedinNorthTarrytowninatrafficjamof

farmwagons,gasolinetrucks,andautosallpackedwithworkmen.

ItwasElectionDay,thetownconstableexplained.Thewagons,trucks,andautoswereferryingthreehundredofJohnD.Rockefeller’sestategardeners,masons,roadbuilders,laborers,andhouseservantstotheNorthTarrytownpollstovoteforRockefeller’schoicesof

trustees.“Willhewin?”Bell

asked.“Healwaysdoes,”said

theconstable,whosurelyowedhisjobtotheincumbents.“But,thisyear,thebutcheriswagingamightycampaign.”

HepointedBellinthedirectionoftheRockefellerestate.Soonthebustleofthetownwasforgotten,dwarfedbyvastbuilding

improvements—gradingnewroads,dammingrivers,digginglakes,erectingstablesandguesthouses,andlayingoutagolfcourse—thatappearedtoabsorbthesurroundingfarmsandentirevillages.Roundingablindbend,hesawanoldtavernthatstoodaloneintheseaofmud.Asignontheroofnamedit

SLEEPYHOLLOW

ROADHOUSE

Ahand-paintedadditionstated

NOTFORSALENOTEVENTOYOU,MR.

PRESIDENT

BellswervedofftheroadandstoppedinfrontwithastronghunchthattheproprietoroftheSleepyHollowRoadhousewouldbemorethanwillingtotellhim

athingortwoaboutRockefeller’slocalactivities.Heorderedaglassofbeerandgotanearful.

“Retired,themanislethal,”saidtheveryangrytavernowner.“IfthenationthinksthatStandardOilisanoctopus,theyshouldseehimoperateinPocanticoHills—where,justsoyouknow,myfamilyloggedandfished,andfarmedthosefieldsacrosstheroad,fortwohundredyears

beforethatsanctimoniouspiratepulledupstakesinClevelandtofoisthimselfonNewYorkand,byextension,oursmallhamlet.”

Minehostpausedforbreath.IsaacBellasked,“Whatmakeshimsanctimonious?”

“He’sateetotaler.ItgallstheheckoutofhimthatI’msellingdrinksrightoutsidehisfrontgate.Heputmycompetitoroutofbusinessby

buyingupeveryhouseinthehamletthatsuppliedhiscustomers.Buthecan’tdothattomebecausemycustomersdrivetheirautosupfromthecitylikeyou.”

“Soit’sastandoff.”“Asmuchasonemancan

standoffagainstanoctopus.Whoknowswhichwayhe’llcomeatmenext.”

“Ishehereoften?”“Toooften.Hereallthe

time,nowthathe’sbuilthis

owngolfcourse.”“Howbigistheestate?”

saidBell.“Threethousandacresand

counting.Themancandrivefordaysonhisownroadsandneverusethesameonetwice.”

IsaacBellfoundthegatesopenandunmanned.Thedrivewaysweptthroughdenseforest,openhayfield,andmowedlawnsasgreenasanyhehadseeninEngland.

Bridlepaths,andcarriageroadsofcrushedslate,crisscrossedthedriveanddisappearedundershadetrees.Clearingsatbendsinthedrivewayofferedsudden,startlingvistasoftheHudsonRiver.

Hepassedstablesandacoachbarn,guestcottages,gardens,bothsunkenandwalled,ateahouse,andaconservatoryunderconstruction,itsgraceful

frameworkawaitingglass.Apowerhousewashiddenbehindastoneoutcroppingwithitschimneydisguisedbyaclumpoftallcedars.Thedriveclimbedagentleslopetoaplateauthatlookedoutontheriverandcircledalargemansionintheearlystageofconstruction.Masonsswarmedonscaffolds,buttressingdeepcellarholeswithstonework.

Bellwaswonderingin

whichoftheolderornewlybuiltsmallerbuildingsRockefelleractuallylivedwhenhenoticedbelowtheplateauacanyon-likecutthroughastonehill.Hedroveintoitalongaflatroadbed.Drillmarksinthevine-tangledstonesides,ballastcrunchingunderhistires,andchunksofcoalglitteringinthesunindicateditwasanoldrailroadcutabandoneddecadesearlier.Heemerged

onthefarsideofthehillbesideaclusterofweatheredcowbarnsthatappearedtobetheremnantsofadairyfarmsubsumedbytheestate.

Sturdypolescarriedstrandsoftelegraph,telephone,andelectricwireintothebiggestbarn.IsaacBellparkedtheSteamerandpressedabuttonatthedoor.Abuzzersoundedinside.

JohnD.Rockefellerhimselfopenedthedoor.He

wasdressedashehadbeenwhenBellsawhimlastinJosephVanDorn’soffice,inelegantlytailoredbroadcloth,wingedcollarandfour-in-handnecktie,asilkhandkerchiefinhisbreastpocketandgoldcufflinks.Hiseyeswerebleak.

“WhatexactlyhappenedtoClydeLapham?”

“YoucananswerthatbetterthanI,”saidBell.

“Whatdoyoumean?”

“TellmewhyyousentClydeLaphamtoWashington.”

“WhatmakesyouthinkIdid?”

“Iknowyoudid.Iwantyoutotellmewhy.”

“HowcouldyoupossiblyknowthatIsentClydeLaphamtoWashington?”

“VanDorndetectivesmakefriendswithlocalcops.”

“Ithoughtyouresigned

yourposition.”“Wordofmyresignation

hasn’treachedmyfriendsintheWashingtonpolice.WhydidyousendClydeLaphamtoWashington?”

“Togivethepoormansomethingtodo.”

“Poorman?”“ClydeLaphamwasthe

brightest,widest-awake,mostprogressivebusinessman.Buthewasbeginningtogodownthehill.Itfinally

becameapparentthathehadhadhisdaybecausehewaslosinghismindtodementia.”

“Whydidyousendhim?”“Youapparentlyknow

already.Whythischarade?”“Idon’tknowifIcantrust

you,sir.Iwanttohearitfromyou.”

Theoldmandidn’tlikehearingthat,andBellhalfexpectedtobeescortedofftheproperty.Instead,Rockefellersaid,“Iasked

ClydeLaphamtodiscussacontributionofmoneytoaministerwhoisraisingfundstobuildamonumenttoPresidentAbrahamLincoln.”

“Thankyou,”saidBell.Foramoment,hedebatedaskingwhyRockefellerpaidasecretvisittothePersianembassy,butthatwoulddefinitelygethimthrownoutonhisear.HehadlearnednothingmoreofitonhisquickreturntoWashington

andhadleftArchieAbbottinchargeofprobinghisfriendsintheStateDepartment.

“Toansweryourquestion,”Bellsaid,“ClydeLaphamwasmurdered.”

Rockefeller’sexpressiondidnotchange,buthisshoulderssaggedperceptibly.Hesteppedback,indicatingBellshouldenter,andwithoutawordledthewaythroughafoyerintoahigh-ceilingeddrawingloft.Draftsmenin

vestsandshirtsleeveswerebentoverdrawingboards,workinginthepureglowofnorth-facingskylights.Bellsawbuildingplansandlandscapedesignstakingshape.Finishedblueprintswerespreadonworktables,wherecivilengineersandarchitectswereguidingforementhroughtheintricaciesofupcomingwork.Rockefellerpausedatatablewhereadraftsmanwas

drawingthesteelframeforastonebridge,tracedalinewithhisfinger,andpolitelyorderedacorrection.

Hecontinueddownahallwayofshutdoors.Notvisibleuntiltheyhadroundedacornerwasadoorwithfrostedglassintheupperpanel.BellfollowedhimthroughitandsawinstantlythatthesupposedlyretiredpresidentofStandardOilwasleadingadoublelifeat

PocanticoHills,activelymanagingvastimprovementsofhisnewestatewhilecontinuingtocommandhisindustrialenterprise.

Thefrosted-glassdooropenedonabusinessofficeasmodernasanyonWallStreet,staffedbysecretariesandbookkeepers,andequippedwithprivatetelegraph,overseascable,telephonelines,andtickertapemachines.Rockefeller

ledBellthroughthedinintohisprivateoffice,closedthedoor,andstoodbehindhisdesk.

“Thatyou’rehere,”hesaid,“tellsmeyou’vecometodowhatIasked:stoptheassassinandendtheslanderofStandardOil.”

Bellsaid,“Iwillconcentrateontheassassinandleavetheslandertoyou.”

“HowdoyouknowthatClydeLaphamwas

murdered?”Bellrelatedtheeventsat

theWashingtonMonumentstep-by-step.

“Byzantine,”saidRockefeller.“Inyourexperience,haveyoueverseenamurderaselaboratelyconceived?”

“Threemurders,”saidBell.

“Three?”Rockefellerblinked.

“Andanattempted

murder.Andanelaborateactofarson.”

“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”

“As‘byzantine,’touseyourword,asthekillingofClydeLaphamwas,itwasmerelyanexaggeratedversionofhisearliercrimes.”HedescribedforRockefellerthedeathsoftheindependentKansasrefinersReedRiggsandAlbertHill,theelaborateandhighlyeffectiveduck-

targetexplosionandburningofSpikeHopewell’srefinery,theattempttoshotgunhim,TexasWalt,andArchieAbbott.Finally,heremindedRockefellerofthefakedsuicideofBigPeteStraub.“Bythoselights,snipingHopewellandC.C.Gustafsonarehisonly‘normal’crimes.”

“Whatmotivatessuchcomplication?”

“Idon’tknowyet,”said

IsaacBell.“Theeffectofthestraightforwardkillingsistheslanderyouwanttostop,theblamingofStandardOil.Thekillingsthatweremaskedasaccidentsdon’tappeartofallintothatcategory.Perhapsthosepeoplewerekilledforotherreasons.”

AsecretaryknockedandenteredandmurmuredinRockefeller’sear.Rockefellerpickedupatelephone,listened,thenputthephone

down,shakinghishead.Hesatsilentawhile,thensaidtoBell,“Myfatherusedtoreadaloudtous.HelikedtheFiresidePoets.Doyouknowthem?”

“Mygrandfatherreadthem,”saidBell.“Longfellow,Whittier,Lowell.”

“LowellwasFather’sfavorite...”Heshookhisheadagain.“I’vejustlearnedthatAverellComstock,oneof

myoldestpartners,isdying...‘ODeath,thoueverroamingshark...’”

RockefellerlookedatBell,hisfathomlesseyessuddenlybrightwithpain.

Bellcompletedthestanzaforhim—“‘...Ingulfmeineternaldark!’”—wonderingwhethertheoldmanremembereditwasfromahumorouspoemaboutaperchwithatoothachewhowashoodwinkedbyalobster.

“Averellbecameawarm,close,personalfriendofmineinthecourseofbusiness.Iwillmisshim.”

“I’msorry,”saidBell.“Hadhebeenill?”

“Briefly.Thepriceofgettingold,Mr.Bell.Mypartnersaredyingrightandleft.MostwereolderthanI...Theygosoquickly.Oneweekago,Comstockwasfullofvimandpush.”

Hestoodup,laidabig

handonthetelephone,andstaredacrossthedeskasiftheroomhadnowallsandhecouldseeallthewaytoNewYorkCity.

“WhenpoorLaphambeganlosinghismind,therewastimetogetusedtotheideathathewouldgo.ButAverellwasatitan.Ifiguredhimforanothertwentyyears.”

He’safraidofdying,thoughtBellandsuddenly

feltsympathyfortheoldman.ButhecouldnotignoretheopportunitytoinvestigatefromevendeeperinsidetheheartofStandardOil.

“Areyouafraidtheassassinwillstrikeatyou?”

“Mostpeoplehateme,”Rockefellerrepliedmatter-of-factly.“Thechancesare,hehatesme,too.”

“Hestrikesmeasprofessional,withoutemotion.”Trueofhis

shooting,thoughtBell.Trueofhisdeep-laidgroundwork.Nottrueofhisimpulsetoshowoff.

“Thenhe’spaidbysomeonewhohatesme,”saidRockefeller.

“Atriggerfingerthatwon’tshakewithpersonalhatredmakeshimallthemoredangerous.”

Rockefellerchangedthesubjectabruptly.“CanIassumethathavingbroken

withtheVanDornAgency,youarefreetotravelonshortnotice?”

“Where?”askedBell.“WhereverIsay.”IsaacBellthrewdowna

boldchallengecalculatedtoimpresstheoiltitan.Ifitworked,thelordlyRockefellermightopenuptohimashewouldtoanequalratherthanalowlydetective.

“Where‘childrendiginthesand’?”

Rockefellerreturnedafathomlessstare.Bellgazedbacknoncommittally,ashewouldinthehighest-stakespokergame—neitheravertinghiseyesnorstaring—whileRockefellerreassessedhim.Hesaidnothing,thoughthesilencebetweenthemstretchedandstretched.Theoldmanspokeatlast.

“Youappeartohavestudiedmyhabits.”

“Aswouldanassassin.”

“Imaygoabroad.”“Baku?”saidBell.Violenceflaredinthe

hoodedeyes.“Youknowtoomuch,Mr.Bell.Areyouaspy?”

“Iamimagininghowanassassinstalksamanofmanysecrets—avictimlikeyou.Bakuisobvious:ThenewspapersarefullofRussia’stroubles,andE.M.Hock’sHistoryoftheOilMonopolycatalogsthe

territoriesinEuropeandAsiathatyou’velosttoRothschildandtheNobelsandSirMarcusSamuel.”

“Areyouaspy?”Rockefellerrepeated.Buthewas,Bellguessed,assessinghimcarefully,andhestrovetoanswerinamannerthatwouldinstillconfidenceandprojectthepictureofavaluableman,seasonedinhiscraft,alert,observant,anddeadlywhenchallenged.A

manJohnD.Rockefellercouldtrusttoguardhislife.

“Idon’thavetobeaspytoknowthat‘thesunrisingoverthebeautifulMediterranean’risesintheeast—RussianoilinBakuandtheChineseandIndianrefinedoilmarketsyou’redeterminedtodominate.IfIwereaspy,Iwouldknowthesecretmeaningof‘childrendigginginthesand.’Idon’t.Buttheassassinhashadmore

timetoinvestigateandprobablydoesknowallaboutchildrendigginginthesand.WouldyoufeelsaferifIaccompanyyouasyourbodyguard?”

“Nameyoursalary.”“Iwon’tworkonsalary.

I’vedecidedtostartmyowndetectiveagency,”saidBell,embellishingtheliehehadconcoctedwithJosephVanDorn.

“Iapplaudyour

initiative,”saidRockefeller.“We’llsendyouacontract.”

IsaacBelldrewaslimenvelopefromhiscoat.“Ibroughtmyown.”

“Presumptuousofyou.”“Notatall.Iammodeling

mybusinessonyours.”“Iamanoldmanand

beyondtheinfluenceofflattery.ButIdowonderhowyouwouldcompareagumshoetoanoilman?”

“E.M.Hockwrotethat

youachievedyourgreatsuccessintheoilbusinessbybeingruthlesslyefficient.IheardwithmyownearsyourboastofefficiencytoMr.VanDorn.Inordertobethebest‘gumshoe’intheprivatedetectivebusiness,Ihadbetterbeefficient.”

Rockefellerrepliedwithoutahintofexpression,andBellcouldnotforthelifeofhimtellifthemanhadasenseofhumor.“You’ll

knowyou’reefficient,DetectiveBell,whentheycallyouamonster.”

Bellsaid,“Iwillmakethetravelarrangements.”

“Ihaveamanwhohandlesthem.”

“Notonthistrip.Iwilldecidethesafestroute.”

Rockefellernoddedagreement.“Ofcourse,noneofthisistoberepeated.IwantnoonetoknowIhavebusinessinBaku.Wemust

travelintheutmostsecrecy.”“Thatwillmakemyjoba

loteasier,”saidBell.“Whendoyouwanttoarrive?”

—AtGrandCentralStation,whichwasbeingsimultaneouslydemolishedandexpandedintoanelectrifiedGrandCentralTerminal,thesidingsreservedforprivaterailcars

offeredconnectionstocitytelephonesystems.

“Ineedanotherrifle,”saidtheassassin.

“Another99?”askedthegunsmith.

“Haveyouanythingbetter?”

“Ialwaysmakeyouthebest.”

“Thenmoreofthebest!99itis.”

“Withtelescope?”“Onlythemounting.ButI

wantdifferentbullets.”“Isthereaproblemwith

myloads?”Picturingthegunsmith’s

fussyhandsandthedesperate-to-pleaseeyesofageniuswhodidn’tbelievehewasagenius,theassassinreassuredhim,“Yourloadsarewonderfullyconsistent.Itrustmylifewiththem.ButI’vebeenthinking,haveyouevermadeabulletthatexplodes?”

“Adumdumbullet?”“No.Notahollow-point.

Abulletthatdetonatesonimpact.”

“Likeanartilleryshell?”“Precisely.Aminiature

artilleryshell.”“It’shardtoimagine

stuffinganimpactfuseandexplosiveintosuchasmallprojectile.”

“Butyouhaveawonderfulimagination.”

“Iamintrigued,”saidthe

gunsmith.“Youareasstimulatingasever.”

B17

ackfromPocanticoHills,IsaacBellwiredJosephVan

Dorninagencycipher:

BAKUVIACLEVELAND.

Andwithverylittletime

tosetthemurderandCorporationsCommissioninvestigationsinproductivemotionbeforehewasstuckincommunicadoonthehighseas,hefiredoffthreemoretelegrams.

ToDetectiveArchieAbbottinWashington:

WHYPERSIA?ONTHEJUMP.

ToDetectiveWallyKisleyandDetectiveMackFultonstillinKansas:

HOPEWELLTRICKSUPSLEEVE?ONTHEJUMP.

ToDetectiveAloysius“Wish”Clarke,whowasabouttoreceivetheplummiestassignmentofhischeckeredcareer:

COMENEWYORK.ONTHEJUMP.

BellhimselfwenttotheSageGunCompanyonWest43rdStreet.

HewalkedincarryingacarpetbagandshookhandswithDaveMcCoart,ahard-muscledgunsmithwithlong,thinfingersandaruddyIrishcomplexion.

“Iwasjustthinkingaboutyou,”McCoartgreetedhim.

“AreyoufamiliarwiththeFNoutfitinBelgium?”

“FabriqueNationale.FirearmsmanufacturerintheLiègedistrict.”

“Mr.BrowninggaveFNacontracttomanufacturea9mmvariantofanewdesign.Iamtoldit’sabeautifulpistol.I’mthinkingIcanmodifyitwithachamberbushingtofireanAmerican.380calibercartridge.Itwouldbe

considerablylighterthanthatbrickinyourshoulderholster.”

“Ilikemygun’sstoppingpower.It’sservedmewell.”

“WhattheNumber2lacksinstoppingpower—andyouarerighttobeconcerned—willbemadeupwithoutstandingaccuracy.”

“Howoutstanding?”“ComparedtoyourColt?

Likearifle.”“O.K.,makemeone.

Now,Ihaveaquestion.HaveyoueverseenabreakdownmodelofaSavage99?”

“No.”“Couldyouconverta

factorypiecetoabreakdown?”

“Icould.”“Howmanygunsmiths

coulddosuchaconversion?”McCoartgrinned.“That

dependsonwhethertheaccuracyoftheweaponishighonyourlistof

expectations.”“Atthetop.”“ThenIwouldshopvery

carefullytogettherightman.Lookforonewhohasatop-notchmachineshopandseveralpintsofartistinhisbloodstream.”

“Howmanysuchmendoyouknow?”

“Withatop-notchmachineshop?”

“Oraccesstoone.”“...Afew,Isuppose.”

“Howmanymorewouldbeouttherethatyoudon’tknowpersonally?”

“Aroundthecountry?Quiteafew.”

“Howmanywouldbeknowntogunsmithswhoyouknow?”

“Therearecitieswherethebestcongregate.Theysettlenearwheretheylearnedthecraftandcanturntoeachothertomakespecialtyitems.AroundtheWinchesterworks

inNewHaven,Connecticut,orSavage’sfactoryupstateinUtica.SpringfieldinSpringfield,Massachusetts.RemingtoninBridgeport,ColtinHartford.Doyoumindmeaskingwhattherifleisusedfor?”

“Iwasabouttowarnyou.It’sbeingusedformurder.”

“Reckonedasmuch.”“Soaskcarefully.You

don’twanttogetonthewrongsideofthisguy.”

McCoartasked,“Doyousupposethesmithknowswhathiscustomerisupto?”

Itwasagoodquestion,andBellthoughtonitbeforeheanswered.“Thesmithcouldbelievehiscustomerisatargetshooter.”

DaveMcCoartshotaholeinthattheory.“Hewouldn’tthinkitlongiftheguyweren’tactivelycompeting.Hewouldwanttoknowhowhisgundid.”

Bellopenedhiscarpetbag.“Whatdoyouthinkofthisone?”

McCoartweighedthepartsinhisbighands,examinedtheminthelight,thenscrewedthemtogether.“Nice.Very,verynicework.Thebarrelandchamberlocklikethey’rewelded.”

“Recognizeit?”“No.Otherthanitnarrows

thefieldconsiderably.Therearen’tthatmanysmithsof

thiscaliber.LikeIsaid,anartist.Didyoushootit?”

“Ihitafencepostataquartermiletwiceandwingedittwice.”

“Couldhavebeenthewind.Couldhavebeentheloads.Couldhavebeenknockedaroundsinceitwaslastsightedin.Wouldyoulikemetobench-sightit?”

“Andloadmesomecartridges.”

“Where’sthetelescope?”

“Itwasn’tonit.”“Whydoyousupposehe

leftsuchabeautifulpiecebehind?”

“Tothrowmeoffthescent.”

“Savingmoneyonthetelescope.Goodonesdon’tcomecheap.”

“Or,”saidBell,seeinganotherwaytobacktracktheassassin,“maybethetelescopeisevenrarerthanthegun.”

—“Whatareyourprospects,Mr.Bell?”BillMattersaskedbluntlywhenIsaacBellcalledatMatters’GramercyParktownhouse.

Bellreckonedheshouldnotbesurprisedbyhowyoung,vigorous,andtoughEdnaandNellie’sfatherwas.“Hardasadamantine,”SpikeHopewellhaddubbedhim.

“Choirboysdon’tlastintheoilbusiness.”

Still,hehadexpectedasmoothercompanymanversionofSpikeHopewell.Instead,hefoundamanfifteenyearsyoungerthanSpike.Hehadahardmouth,andhardereyes,andseemedinordinatelyprotectiveofhisaccomplished,independentdaughters.

“Father,”saidNelliebeforeBellcouldanswer,

“Mr.Belljustwalkedinthedoor,”andEdna,whohaddescendedthestairswithNellieandwasnowseatedbesideheronagreensilk-coveredsetteethathighlightedthecoloroftheireyes,said,“Thisroleofvigilantfather,Father,doesnotbecomeyou.”

Mattersdidnotsmile.Norwouldhebederailed.“Iwanttoknowwhathisprospectsareifhe’scallingonmy

daughters.That’swhyyou’rehere,isn’tit?”

Ednastartedtoprotest.Bellinterrupted.“Thankyou,ladies.Iwill

speakformyself.Toansweryourquestion,sir,IenjoyedsteadyadvancementintheVanDornDetectiveAgency.NowI’mstrikingoutonmyown.Iintendtostartmyownfirm,andIwillworkhardtomakeagoofit.”

“Howmuchwillyou

earn?”“Sufficientformyneeds.”“Sufficienttosupporta

family?”“Pregnancy,”saidNellie,

“hasnotcomeunderdiscussion.Yet.”

Mattersglowered.Ednasaid,“Ibelievethat

Mr.BellisaBostonBell,Father.Thebankers.Hedoesnotneedto‘marrywell.’”

“AmericanStatesBank?Isthattrue,Bell?”

BelllookedfromEdnatoNellieandaddressedhisanswertotheirfather’squestionstobothofthem.“Iwouldrathermarryhappilythan‘well.’”

BillMattersbarkedalaughthatdidnothingtosoftenhiseyes.“Hear!Hear!Wellsaid!O.K.,youwon’tbeadetectiveforlong.Takeoverthebankwhenyouroldmanretires.”

“Iwillremaina

detective,”saidBell.Hedidnotelaborateuponthedeepcontestationwithhisfatheronthatissue,northathisgrandfatherhadintercededwithalegacythatmadehimfinanciallyindependent.NeitherwasMatters’business,beautifuldaughtersnotwithstanding.

“Haveityourway.Sitdown.Girls,let’sgiveMr.Bellsomethingtodrink.”

Matters’butlerappeared

inthedoorway.Themanworeatailcoatandwhitegloves,andhisfacewasremarkablysmooth,butBellpeggedhisstanceandlight-footedgaitasthatofanex-prizefighterwhohadretiredbeforehelostamatch.

“Whatisit,Rivers?”“Telephone,sir.”Mattershurriedoff

withoutaword.Ednarose.“I’llleaveyoutwotoit.”

“Whereareyougoing?”

askedNellie.“Mr.Belliscallingon

you,notme.”“Don’tbeabsurd.He’s

callingonbothofus.Aren’tyou?”

IsaacBellsaid,“Consideringwe’vedinedtogether,traveledtogether,beensetuponbydrunksandshotattogether,Ifeellesslikeacallerthananoldfriendcatchingup.”

“Doyouwantmeto

stay?”askedEdna.“Ofcourse,”Belland

Nelliechorused.Ednawasstillhesitating

whenBillMattersreturnedtothedrawingroom,hisfacesetinagravemask.

“Whatisit?”askedEdna,resumingherseat.

“OldComstockdied.”“Anotherbitesthedust,”

saidNellie.“That’stwoinaweek.”

“Youwon’tmournhim,

willyou?”askedEdna.“Iwon’tspeakillofthe

dead,”saidBillMatters.“ButyouknowIwon’tmisshisbadgering.”ToIsaacBellheexplained,“AverellComstocktreatedmelikesomesortofinterloper.Hemadeithardtodobusiness,andhardtoadvanceinthefirm.”

“Whatdidhedieof?”“Godknows.Evena

simplecoldwillkillathis

age...Theupshotis,Mr.Bell,we’llbeseeingalotofeachotherinweekstocome.”

“Howisthat,sir?”“ThatwasMr.Rockefeller

onthetelephone.WithComstockgone,thepresidenthasaskedmetoaccompanyhiminhistravels.Hementionedyouwillbehisbodyguard.”

“Youpoorthings,”saidNellie.“Iwouldratherdiethanbestuckallsummerin

Cleveland.Theheat!Thehumidity!Theneighbors!”

“Mr.RockefellersummersathisestateinCleveland,”EdnaexplainedtoBell.

MattersgaveBellasignificantlook.“Isuspectwe’llcreatetheimpressionhe’sinClevelandthanrangefartherafield.Wouldn’tyousay,Mr.Bell?”

“Icannotsay,sir,”Bellrepliedstiffly.“Ashisbodyguard,ifMr.Rockefeller

confidedourdestination,itwouldbeindiscreet,nottomentionreckless,torepeattoanyonewherewearegoing.”

—TheFirstRegimentofNewarkwasbilletedinasturdyNationalGuardarmory,fourstoriesofslab-sidedbrickwalls,relievedonlyslightlybyroundedturrets,andcrownedwitha

parapet.ThesentriesguardingthearchedJayStreetportalrememberedBillyJoneswarmlybutexpressedbafflementwhenIsaacBellaskedwhythechampionmarksmanhaddesertedrightafterwinningthePresident’sMedal.

“Happyguysdon’ttakeFrenchleave,”thecorporalputit.

“Bigfellow?”Bellasked.“Skinnylittleguy,”said

theprivate.“Anyguesswherehelit

outto?”“No.Noonefiguredhim

forlightingout.Kepttohimselfexceptforonepal,NateWildwood.”

“IsNatearound?”askedBell.

“Nategotkilled,”saidtheprivate.

“IntheSpanishwar?”“Nevermadeittothe

war,”thecorporalanswered.

“PoorNatefellunderatrain.BeforeBillylitout.”

“Really?Tellmesomething.HowshortwasBilly?”

“Idon’tknow.Maybefive-three?”

“Littleguy,”saidtheprivate.“Short.”

“Whatcolorwashishair?”

“Brown.”“Whatcolorwerehis

eyes?”

“Green.”“Notreallygreen,”said

thecorporal.“Gray-green.”Theprivatereconsidered.

“Yeah,youcouldsaygray-green.Theygotkindofdeadcolored,sometimes.”

“Dead?”scoffedthecorporal.“Whatdoyoumeandead?”

“Imeandead.Iwasnexttohimonthefiringlinemorethanonce.Whenhestartedshooting,hiseyeslooked

dead.”TheyoungsoldierturnedtoBellandexplainedearnestly,“WhatImeanis,afterIsawthat,IneverwonderedhowBillyJonescouldbesuchagreatshot.Itwaslikehecouldstopeverythoughtinhisbrainwhenhepulledthetrigger.”

Theprivatereflectedforalongmoment.“Itwaslikenothingelsemattered.Likehedidn’tcareaboutnothing.Exceptthetarget.”

—IsaacBelltookthetrainbacktotheferry.Beforehegotontheboat,hesentanotherwiretoArchieAbbott.

MAKEARMYFRIENDS.TRACEDESERTERBILLYJONES.SLIGHTBUILD,5’3”.BROWNHAIR,GRAY-GREENEYES.

W18henWalterL.Hawley,chiefpoliticalreporter

oftheEveningSun,spottedIsaacBellstridingtohisdesk,hestoppedtypingtoclaspthedetective’shandhello.

“You’relookingprosperous.”

“You’relookingink-stained.”

“How’sthebigguy?”HawleyandJosephVanDornhadmetbackintheearly’90swhenthereportercoveredpoliceheadquartersandVanDornhadchasedaChicagoarsonisttoNewYork.

“Firedme,”saidBell.“OrIquit,dependingonwhoshotfirst.”

“WelcometoNewspaperRow.Multitudeswhohave

failedinallattemptsateveryoccupationturntojournalismtofindastopgapbetweenmediocrityandprofessionalbegging.”

“Actually,Ididcometodiscussajob.”

Hawleylookedalarmed.“Easydoesit,”saidBell,

“notforme.WhatdoyoumakeofthesituationinRussia?”

“Itresemblesthebedlamofuncheckedhuman

emotion.MybeatisCityHall,somaybeI’mnotqualifiedtopredictagloomyfuturefortheczar.Butthey’vehadabadyearandit’sonlyJune.

“ItcouldblowtheBakuoilbusinesstoKingdomCome.”

Hawleysaid,“Iwon’taskaprivatedetective,assumingyouarestillone,whatthathastodowithyou.ButIwillask,whatdoesthathavetodo

withme?WhenIneedoil,IgetitfromJohnD.Rockefeller.”

“E.M.HockwouldjumpatafreelanceassignmenttoreportonthethreattotheoilindustryinBaku.”

“Areyouserious?”“Absolutely.”“Wonderful!...Except,

I’vealwaysthoughttherumorsweretrue.She’sawoman,isn’tshe?”

“Verymuchso.”

Hawleyshookhishead.“I’lltellyou,Isaac,Iwouldjumpatachancetohiresuchagoodwriter.Sowouldmypublisher.He’dapproveinaflash.Butwewouldbestronglyhesitanttosendawomanamongheathens.RussiansandMoslems,andIbelievethey’veevengotsomePersians,they’renextdoor,aren’tthey?”

Bellsaid,“WhenImetEdnaMattersinKansas,she

hadjustdrivenupfromIndianTerritoryinabuckboardwagon.Hersisterwashertravelingcompanion.IimagineNellieMatterswouldgoalongtoRussia.”

“NellieMatters?TheInsufferableSuffragette?”

“IfindNellieMattersanythingbutinsufferable.”

“Idon’tmeantodisparagethelady,”thenewspapermansaidhastily.“Certainlylovelytolookat,andafieryorator.

She’llreallymakehermarkwiththatNewWoman’sFlyover.”

“Whatdoyousay?”askedBell.“WillyouhireE.M.Hock?”

“Butnowyou’resuggestingsendingtwowomenamongtheheathens.Ifsomethinghappenedtotheminwhereverthatgodforsakenplaceis—theCaspianSea?—JoePulitzerandBillHearstandPreston

Whitewaywouldyellow-journalusintoourgraves.Theywouldincitemobstotearuslimbfromlimb.NewsieswhotriedtoselltheSunwouldbehungfromlampposts.”

“I’llarrangeforthebestprivatedetectiveinthebusinesstostandwatchoverthem.”

“Thatcouldgetexpensive.”

“I’llpayforthedetective,

youpayMissMatters’fee.”“Soundslikeyouhavea

wealthyclient,Isaac,ifyou’renotworkingforVanDornanymore.”

“Iwillpayforthedetective,”Bellrepeated.

Hawleysaid,“That’sright.You’rerich.Iforgot.O.K.It’sadeal!Andthanks,Isaac.Ifshe’lltakethejob,she’llsetanewstandardforouroverpaidhacks.”

Theyshookonit.Bell

said,“Butdon’ttellher—oranyone—thatIhaveanythingtodowiththis.Noone!”

WalterHawleywinked.“Mindmeaskingwhichsisteryou’resweeton?”

IsaacBelldeliveredthegrinthatamarriedmanexpectedfromabachelor.

“Let’sjustsaythatwiththisarrangement,Icankeepmyeyeonbothofthem.”

—ArchieAbbottcamethroughwithawiretotheYaleClub.HisfriendsintheStateDepartmentreportedstrongrumorsthattheShahofPersiawasnegotiatingamonsterloanfromtheRussianczar.ArchiespeculatedthatmaybesuchaloanwouldexplainRockefeller’sclandestinevisittothePersianembassy.

Maybe.Bellhadpackedandwas

justleavingtheclubtowalktoGrandCentral,intendingtoboardthetrainwellaheadofRockefeller,whenthedayhallportersaid,“There’sastreeturchinaskingforyou.”

“Where?”“Hesnuckinthroughthe

kitchen.”“Didhesaywhathe

wanted?”“Heclaimshe’sa

probationaryVanDornapprentice.Ifiguredifhewere,he’dknowyoudon’tworkthereanymore.”

Bellhurrieddownstairstothekitchen.Aboywholookedlikeacleaned-up,dressed-upstreetratwasstandingquietlyinacorner.Scarcelyintohisteens,hiseyesalert,hismannersodiffident,hewasalmostinvisible.

“What’syourname,son?”

“Tobin,sir.EddieTobin.”“Whodoyouapprentice

under?”“Mr.Warren.”Ofcourse.TheVanDorn

streetgangexpert.IfEddieTobinwasgoodenoughforHarryWarren,hewasgoodenoughforBell.

“Howoldareyou?”“Notoldenoughto

apprentice.I’monlyprobationary.”

“Iaskedhowold?”Bell

growled.“Fifteen.”“Howold?”“Fourteen.”“WhenIwasfourteen,I

ranawaytothecircus.DidMr.Warrensendyou?”

“Mr.Forrer.Mr.WarrensaiditwasO.K.”

“Whatdoyouhavethere?”

Thekidhadanenvelopeofnewspaperclippings.

Bellhadreadthetopone

already:

AverellComstock,directorofStandardOil,andatonetimepresidentofthecorporation,diedafterabriefillness.ComstockwasoneofthebigoilcapitalistsofthecountrywholaidthefoundationsfortheStandardOilCompanyalongsideJohnD.Rockefeller,ClydeLapham,andHenryM.Flagler.Heserved,too,asadirectoroftheWesternUnionTelegraph

Company,thePennsylvaniaRailroad,andthePittsburghNationalBank.Hiswealthwasestimatedatfrom$75,000,000to$100,000,000.

ThesecondclippingreportedthatAverellComstockhadlefttenthousanddollarstoaMrs.MaryMcCloudwhohadacoffeestandthattheoilmagnatehadfrequentedonFultonStreet.

ThelastclippingreportedthataMrs.MaryMcCloudhaddiedinatenementfireinChathamSquare.

Forrerhadtypedanote.

SameMrs.McCloud.TenementshortwalkfromFulton.

“Comewithme,Tobin.”JohnD.Rockefeller’strainwasleavinginthreehours.IfBelldidn’thaveenoughtime,

thekidcouldfollowupandwaitforreinforcements.

“Yes,sir,Mr.Bell!”Theyraceddowntownon

theElevated.

—Beforedescendingtothestreet,BellscannedthesqualidneighborhoodfromthevantageoftheChathamSquareElstation.WaltHawleyandtheEveningSun

andmostofthebigNewYorkdailiesoccupiedtheclean,modernNewspaperRowsectionofParkRowlessthanahalfmiledowntown.ThiswastheuppersectionofParkRow,aslumthathadbeenaslumformostofthecity’slonghistory.

Hespottedaburned-outtenementandledTobindownthestairs,threeatabound.

Sawhorsesblockedthesidewalk.Thebuildingsthat

flankedithadburned,too.Rainhadfallensince,andtheodorofwetcharredwoodhungheavilyintheair.SettlementHouseworkerswerehelpingfamilieswholosttheirhomesloadbedclothesandfurniturethathadsurvivedthefire.

“Maybethiswillhelp,”saidBell.Hepressedtwotwenty-dollargoldpieces,twomonths’sweatshopearnings,intothehandsofthe

startledwomanincharge.“Godblessyou,sir.”“Didanyonehereknow

Mrs.McCloud?”heasked.Nonedid,butonesaidshe

thoughtMrs.McCloudhadworkedonFultonStreet.BellandTobinhurrieddowntownandacrossFultontowardtheEastRiver.Atthewaterfront,cartsandtemporarystallshadsetupbusinesssellingrefreshments.

“Ihopethosearen’t

JamaicaBayoysters,”saidTobin.

“Why’sthat?”“JamaicaBay’spolluted

withthetyphoid.”“We’relookingforcoffee

stands,”saidBell.Theyfoundarowofthemsellingcoffeeandcakeandpastries.Onespacewasempty.Bellpaidforcoffeeandcakefortheapprentice.ThekidtoreintoithungrilybutpaidcloseattentionasBellquestioned

thewomanwhopoured.“WhereisMrs.

McCloud?”“Gone.”“Whendidsheleave?”“Shedidn’tleave.She

died.Shewaskilledinafire.”

“Thatisterrible,”saidBell.“Didyouknowherwell?”

“NotaswellasMrs.Campbell.Theshopontheotherside.Kate!”shecalled

acrosstheemptystand.“GentlemanhereisaskingaboutMrs.McCloud.”

Bellcrossedoverandorderedaslabofpoundcake.“Mrs.Campbell?I’mJethroSmith.Ijustheard.Ihadnoidea.Ididn’tknowherwell,butIstopbywhenI’mdowntown.Whathappened?”

“PoorMrs.McCloud.Widowedyoung.Allshehadwasherboyandhedied.Nowthis.Areyoua

newspaperman?”“No,ma’am.I’minthe

insuranceline.Whydoyouask?”

“Newspapermencamearound.TheysaidthatMaryinheritedtenthousanddollars.Andneverknewit!Diedwithoutknowingit.”

“Didyousayhersondied,too?”Bellasked.

“Drownedintheriver.”“When?”“Thesametimeasthefire

—notthatanybodywassurprised.AnthonyranwiththeFivePointsGang.Ipraysheneverknewhedrowned.”

“Letushope,”saidBell.“Tenthousand!Thatisalotofmoney.Wholeftherthetenthousand?”

“Anoldman.Heusedtocomeeveryday.Iteasedher.Hewassweetonher.Everydaylikeclockwork.Firsthe’deathisoystersonthepier,thenhe’dcomeroundthe

corneranddrinkMary’scoffee.Iusedtosaydon’tgivehimsomuchsugarinhiscoffee.You’llkillhisappetite.Hewon’tordercake.IguessIwaswrongaboutthat.Tenthousand!”

Bellcheckedhiswatch,motionedtoTobin,andpassedhimthecake.“Ihavetocatchatrain.Havealook-seeatwhicheveroysterstandtheoldmanfrequented.”

“Yes,Mr.Bell.Isthere

anythingspecialyouwantmetolookfor?”

Bellpausedforamoment.Itwasasmartquestionfromakidjuststartingout.NowonderHarryWarrenhadtappedhim.Tobinjustmightbeanatural.

“Startwithwherethatstandgetsitsoysters.Let’smakesureMr.Comstockdidn’tdieofthatJamaicaBaytyphusyoumentioned.Soonasyousortthatout,reportto

Mr.Forrer.ThentellMr.WarrenIaskedwouldhegiveyouahandtolookintoaFivePointernamedAnthonyMcClouddrowningintheEastRiver.”

BOOKTHREE

GASJUNE–SEPTEMBER

1905THEBLACKCITY

T19

hankyouforseeingmeoff,”JohnD.Rockefellertoldthe

NewYorkreporterswhomobbedtheLakeShoreLimitedplatformatGrandCentral.“I’dexpectyou’dhavemoreprofitablewaystopassyourtime,butitisvery

kindofyou.”Heworeanoldman’s

overcoatandheldtighttotheburlyBillMatters’armwhileIsaacBellstoodguardjustoutofcamerarange.“WhatwillIdoinCleveland?Warmtheseoldbonesandtrymyhandknockinggolfballs.”

TheClevelandnewspaperssentreporterstomeethistrainatUnionDepot,andpostedmorereportersatthefrontgateof

ForestHill,Rockefeller’ssummerresidenceontheedgeoftown.Aweeklater,thenewspapermenreturnedwhenthecity’sItalianBoysBandcametoserenadehim.Rockefellergavethemashow,seizingabatontoconduct“TheStar-SpangledBanner.”ItwouldbehislastpublicappearanceuntilOctober.

ThatnightIsaacBellslippedhimandMattersinto

aprivatecarcoupledtotheNewYorkCentral’seastboundLakeShoreLimited.Tenhourslater,thetrainwasdividedatAlbany.SomecarscontinuedeasttoBoston,mostheadedsouthtoNewYorkCity.BillMattersjoinedtheNewYorksectiontoboardthefour-funnelGermanoceanlinerSSKaiserWilhelmderGrosse.IsaacBellandJohnD.Rockefellercontinuedonthe

eastboundsection.Waitingwithsteamupin

BostonHarborwasthethree-hundred-footSandra,ahandsomeyachtwithaloftyrakedstackandthelinesofagreyhoundthatRockefellerhadborrowedwhenBellpointedoutthatthenewspapersensuredtherewerenosecretsonanoceanliner.JudgeJamesCongdonhadlentSandrainaflash,leavingBelltospeculate

whetherthelegendaryWallStreetpotentate,afounderofU.S.Steel,wasinonRockefeller’sdeal.Whateverthedealwas.Sofar,BellhadmadenoprogressingettingRockefellertoconfideinhisbodyguard.

Sandra’striple-expansionenginesdrovethemacrosstheAtlanticOceanintwelvedays.TheylandedatCherbourgandrodeinaprivatecarcoupledtothe

boattraintoParis.AFrenchactresswhomBellhadknowninSanFranciscorecruitedherfavoritetheatricalcostumerandwigmakerfromtheComédie-Française.TheycalledonJohnD.Rockefellerintheprivacyofhishotel.

BellbookedtrainticketstoConstantinople.ThenhevisitedadirectoroftheCompagnieInternationaledesWagons-Lits,whosewife’ssapphirenecklaceVanDorn

detectiveshadransomedfromthethiefRosaniawhenshevisitedChicago.ThegratefuldirectorofthesleepingcarcompanygaveBellacopyofthepassengermanifest.BellshowedittoRockefellertoensurethattheoilmagnatewouldnotbumpintofellowtycoonsontheExpressd’Orient.

Thetawnyyellowall-stateroomtrainoffereditspamperedcustomersthe

uniquebenefitofnotbeingroustedfromtheirbedsforpassportchecksatthebordercrossingsastheysteamedthroughMunich,Strasbourg,Vienna,andBudapest.Sixty-fourhoursafterleavingParis,theyawakenedtothebalmyairanddazzlingsunshineofConstantinople,avastandancientcosmopolitancityofmosquesandminarets,asprawlingbazaar,mangydogs,andabustlingharbor

onadeepbluesea.Amailsteamercarried

themuptheBosporusStraitandfourhundredmilesacrosstheBlackSeatoBatum,theworld’sbiggestoilport,wherethesnow-coveredCaucasusMountainsloomedovertheharbor,andthesix-hundred-milepipelinefromBakuterminated.

Dozensofsteamtankersrodeatanchor,queuingtoloadatthekerosenedocks.

Butthecity’sstreetsweredesertedandbuildingsshuttered.

“MuslimsandChristiansareshootingeachother,”BillMattersreportedwhenhemetthematthesteamerinaRolls-Royce.“It’sapogromy,TatarsattackingArmenians.”

“WheredotheRussiansstand?”askedBell.

“ThecopsandArmyturnablindeye.”

Theydrovefivemilesout

ofthecitytoManziadjani.TheAmericanviceconsul,aprosperousandwell-connectedshipbrokerwhomRockefellerhadarrangedtomeet,hadhiscountryplacethere.Shotswerefiredfromthewoodsastheypulledinthroughthefrontgate.BellhadhispistoloutandwasopeninghiscarpetbagwhenViceConsulAbramsstaggereduptothecarwithbloodpouringfromhis

mouth.Theyrushedhimtoa

nearbyRussianArmyfort,wherehediedwithinmomentsofarriving.IsaacBellracedRockefellerandMattersbacktoBatumandontothetraintoBaku.AtTiflis,thecapitalofGeorgia,halfwaytotheCaspianSea,therewerereportsofriots.Abombexplodedoutsidethestation.Bellkepthispartyonthetrainandtheysleptthe

nightsittinguponhardbenches.

Nextmorning,theauthoritiesdithered.Itwasmiddaybeforethetrainpulledout,proceededbyapilotengine,incasewreckerstakingadvantageofthecollapseoflawandorderhadminedthetrackstorobthepassengers.Theysteamedslowlyacrossanendless,ever-more-desolatedryvalleybetweensnowymountainsto

thenorthandindistincthighlandstothesouth.

Anhourbeforenightfall,stillfiftymilesfromBaku,thepilotenginehitamine.

Theexplosionblewitofftherailsandintoaravine,takingwithittheriflemenguardingthetrain.Horsemeninblackcloaksgatheredonaridgethatloomedabovethetracks.

IsaacBellopenedhiscarpetbagandjoinedthe

Savage99’sbarreltoitschamberwithapracticedtwist.Anotherexplosionblockedtherailsbehindthem,andawild-eyedconductorranthroughthecaryelling,“Wreckers!”

Theyattacked,gallopingdowntheslope,brandishinglonggunsandsabers.

“GetMr.Rockefellerundercover,”BelltoldMatters.“Forthimupwiththosebags.”

Mattersobeyedinstantly,helpingRockefellertothefloor,pullingluggagedownfromtheracks.Theoldmanremainedcalmandwatchfulandseemedtohavethehorsesensetotrustthejobtothemanhehadchosentoprotecthim.IfC.C.Gustafsonwasthemostphilosophicalmanonthesubjectofgettingshot,JohnD.RockefellertookthecakeasthecalmestmanwithoutagunthatIsaacBell

hadeverseeninagunfight.Bellcountedtenexpert

ridersonagileponies.Withoutatelescopeontherifle,he’dbewastingammunitionifheopenedupanyfartherthanfourhundredyards.Butfourhundredyardswouldgivehimonlyfortysecondstostopthembeforetheyreachedthestrandedtrain.Heglancedaboutthecar.Someofthemenhadpulledrevolvers.BillMatters

unlimberedanancientCivilWarRemington.Bell’swastheonlyrifle.

W20henwillyoushoot?”JohnD.Rockefellercalled

toIsaacBell.“WhenIcanhitthem.”Hechosealargeboulder

onthehillsideashisquarter-milemarker.Theleadhorsemansteeredhismount

directlyatit.Asheraisedhiswhiptomaketheanimaljump,BellpressedtheSavagetohisshoulder.Thewhipdescended.Theanimalgathereditshaunchesandlefttheground.IsaacBellwaitedfortherider’schesttocrosstheironsightandcurledhisfingergentlyaroundthetrigger.

DaveMcCoarthadloadedaboxofwildcatsforhimandBelldecidedheowedthe

gunsmithaboxofHavanacigars.Thetrainwreckerslidoffhishorsealmostassmoothlyasifhehadchosentodismount.Hisfootjammedinastirrup.Thepanickedanimalveeredsharply,draggingitsdeadrideracrossthelineofcharge.Twotrainwreckerscrashedintothemandwentdowninatangleofhoofs.

Bellleveredinafreshshell.

Hefixedabeadonariderwhowaswhirlingacarbineoverhisheadlikeasword.AgaintheperfectlybalancedtriggerkepttheweapondeadsteadyasBellfiredandanotherwreckerfelloffhishorse.Buttheyhadclosedwithintwohundredyards.Bell’snexttargetwasaneasyhit,andtheyweresonearforhisnextthathecouldhavedroppedhismanwitharock.

“Shoot!”heroaredatthe

mengapingoutthewindows.Theyjerkedthetriggersof

theirrevolvers,hittingnothing.Throughthathailofwildfire,thehorsemencharged.TheSavage’smagazineindicatorreadoneshotleft.Bellfiredatamansoclose,hecouldseethehairsofhisbeard.

Thatshotandthevolumeofpistolfirebrokethecharge.Twentyyardsfromthetrain,thesurvivorsturned

theirhorsesanddrovethembackuptheridge.Bellreloaded,shoutingtotheothers,“Keepshootingbeforetheychangetheirminds.”

Hesenttwoslugswhistlingovertheirheadsandtheykeptgoing,lashingtheirhorses.Therevolver-totingpassengersstoppedshootingorranoutofammunition.Thebeginningsofaraggedcheerdiedontheirlipsaseachandeveryman

consideredhowclosehehadcometoannihilation.Silencefinallydescendedinthehot,dustyrailcar.

IsaacBellhelpedJohnD.Rockefellertohisfeet.

“Nowwhat?”askedtheStandardOilmagnate.

“Wewaitforawrecktraintorepairthetracks.”

“They’recomingback,”apassengershouted.

Menclutchedtheirrevolvers.Butthistimethe

thunderofhoofbeatswasonlyarovingpolicepatrolofCossacksarmedwithbolt-actionriflesandshashkasabers.

BellbrokedowntheSavage.

“Niceshooting,”saidMatters.“Where’dyougettherifle?”

Bellhiditinhiscarpetbag.“Whatrifle?”

IfheowedDaveMcCoartaboxofcigarsforhisbullets,

heshouldinallfairnesssendonetotheassassinforhisgun.Lackinganameandaddress,Bellwouldwaituntilheinstalledhiminhiscellindeathrow.

—IsaacBellledamuch-jauntierJohnD.RockefelleroffthetrainatBakuStationthanthegeezerintheovercoatwhohadboardedtheLakeShore

LimitedtoCleveland.Hisactressfriend’sComédie-Françaisecostumershadcamouflagedthemagnate’sfamousfeatureswithasilver-graywigtocoverhisbaldheadandmatchingeyebrowsfastenedwithspiritgumtoreplacethosehehadlosttoalopecia.Tintedspectaclesshadedhispiercinggaze.Awhiteflannel“icecream”suit,astrawpanama,andagold-headedwalkingstick

bedeckedagracefullyagingdandyvisitingasouthernRussiancityinthesummer.

Heevencrackedajoke.“Processserversfromthe

CorporationsCommissionwon’tknowmefromAdam.”

WithBellathisside,hestrodethroughthestation,thepictureofanadventurousAmericanwhomightbeatouristorawealthymissionary.Though,infact,theyhadmadehima

diplomat.Rockefeller’sWashington“correspondents”hadprovidedunassailabledocumentsforafictitiousSpecialU.S.EnvoyforCommercialAffairstoRussiaandPersia—theHonorableJosephD.Stone.

OnBell’sorders,BillMattershadleftthetrainearlieratasuburbanstation.Matterswastravelingunderhisownnameastherepresentativeofthe

AmericanrefinerybuilderPurestIncorporatedofNewJersey—whichhappenedtobeoneofStandardOil’ssecretsubsidiaries.HislettersofintroductiontothemayorofBaku,theprefect,thegovernor,andthecity’sleadingoilmenstatedthathismissionwastopersuadetheRussiangovernmenttoletPurestbuildnew,modernrefineriesandreplacetheoldonesownedbyRothschild

andNobel.AseeminglychancemeetingwithSpecialEnvoyJosephD.StonewouldleadtoMattersandStonediscoveringthattheirbusinessinterestscoincided.

IsaacBell,too,traveledunderhisownname.BoguspapersestablishedthetalldetectiveasSpecialEnvoyStone’sprivatesecretaryandbodyguardwhohadbeengrantedextendedleavefromtheUnitedStatesSecret

Service.ComparedtoTiflisand

Batum,themuch-biggercityofBakuseemedpeacefulandlesstense,exhibitingfewoutwardsignsoflastwinter’smurderousriots.Bakuwasalsoquiteclearlythethrivingcapitalofanoil-richregionthatpumpedhalftheentireworld’spetroleum.Thelavishrailroadstation,bustlingwithcrowdsofpeoplespeakingFarsi,Russian,and

Armenian,wastheequalofanyinParisorLondon.

Outsidethestation,womenworeveils,carthorsesploddedundertallRussianyokes,andtheruinsofacenturies-oldPersiancitadelloomedonahill.Butswiftmoderntrolleysglidedonbroadcobblestoneavenues.Thestonework,mansardroofs,towers,cupolas,andportecocheresofBakuCityHallandthe

EmbassyRowbuildingsweretypicalofagreatmetropolis.TheostentatiousprivatepalacesbuiltbytheoilkingsspokeofvastfortunesmadeassuddenlyastheywereonWallStreet—andwerenolessgaudythanthoseliningFifthAvenue.

AnhourofbuyingdrinksandeavesdroppingintheHoteldel’Europe’sbarsandlobbyconfirmedBell’sdecisiontobaseRockefeller’s

envoydisguiseontheinformationArchiehadturnedupinWashington.TherumorrepeatedmostanxiouslysaidthattheShahofPersiahadsecretlyborrowedfifteenmillionrublesfromCzarNicholas.ThattheloanmightgainRussia’sNavyentréetothePersianGulfhadGreatBritainandtheUnitedStatesriledtothecore.

JohnD.Rockefellerwas

thrilled.Beaming,heconfidedtoBellinoneoftheunguardedmomentshehadbeguntoofferupsincehiscostuminginParis,“Notonemaninahundredwillkeephiseyeontheball.”

Hedidnotseematallsurprisedbytherumorsoftheczar’smoneylending,andIsaacBellconcludedthathehadprobablyknownabouttheloanrightdowntothelastrublelongbeforetheyleft

NewYorkforCleveland.

T21

heassassin’sfirstandstrongestinclinationhadbeento

masqueradeasaCossack.Thepageantryandsheerspectacleofthesavagewarriorsappealed,andtherewasgreatadvantagetobehadplayingtheroleofacharacter

whofrightenedordinaryfolk.ButCossacksweresocloselyrelatedbybloodandclanthattheyknewoneanother,andallknewtheirplacefromahundredtraditionsoftribalhierarchy.

Toactthepartofanaristocratwasalmostastempting.TheprivilegedgratinofRussiansocietyspokeFrench,whichtheassassincouldunderstand,andwerekowtowedtoby

everyone,especiallysoldiersandpolice.Butaristocrats,too,weredividedbyimpenetrablelayersofrank.Whoknewwhatsuperioryouwouldaccidentallyinsult?

Luckily,therewasonesortthateveryRussianfeared.

Thelowliestpeasant,thenoblestaristocrat,theangryTatar,thedespisedArmenian,thearrogantsoldier,thebrutalcop,thecorruptbureaucrat,

allwereterrifiedbytheOkhrana,theczar’ssecretpolice.

Plainclothesagents’disguisesrangedfromtherubberneckingtouristtothecitylaborer.Theassassinhadobservedthat,howeverdisguised,secretagentsoftenbetrayedthemselveswithasuperiorattitude.Lordingitoverpeoplewasnowayfortheczar’sspiestocatchrevolutionaries.Thatwas

theirloss.Butfromtheassassin’spointofview,pullingrankwasafoolproofwaytoscareRussiansintobackingdownandleavingyoualone.

Theriots,andthedreadofworseimpending,gavethedisguiseevensharperteeth.ThegovernmenthadputtheBakuregioninastateofchrezvychainaiaokhrana,or“extraordinarysecurity.”Peopledreadingmerciless

sentencesofprisonandexilewithoutatrialweredoublyinterroroftheOkhrana.

Headhighandgazecontemptuous,brandishingamasterrigger’stoolbox,theassassinbrushedpasttheguardsattheNobelrefinerygate.TheywerewatchingforarmedTatars,andnotinclinedtotanglewithaplainclothessecretpolicemanmasqueradinginbrand-new,too-cleanoveralls.

ThederricksintheBakufieldswerefireproofedwithmetalandGypsolitesheathingandmoredenselypositionedthaninKansas—stackedmorelikethecrowdedLosAngelesfieldsalongSunsetBoulevard,withtheaccompanyingsmoke,fumes,stench,andnoise.Inallotheraspects,theyresembledthosetheassassinhadstudied.Steamenginespoweredthedrillmachinery,

laddersranupthesides,cablesturnedovercrownpulleys,andthetopsofthederricksweresurroundedwithparapetworkplatformsthatmadeanidealshootingperch.

Theworkmentendingtheenginesandthepumpslookedaway,hopingnottomakeeyecontactthatcouldleadtoquestions.Eventhedrillersdeepeningthewellswithbitandcasing—amuch-

tougherlotofmen—avertedtheirfaces.Thewaywascleartochooseanuntendedderrickthatofferedaclearfieldoffireyetwasremoteenoughtoallowanunimpededescape.

TheassassinfoundtherightderrickalongtheshoreofBakuBay,whichshelteredtanksteamers,barges,andtugboatsfromtheCaspianSea.ItsparapetcommandedaperspectiveoftheBakuroadandthegatewheretraffic

enteredtherefinery.Thesmokemadeithardtosee,butwindgustsoffthewaterstirreditsporadically,muchastheKansaswindhadatHopewellField.

Safelyensconcedhighintheairwithapanoramicfieldoffire,allthatremainedwastoassembletheSavage,adjustthetelescope,inserttheclip,andwaitfortheso-calledSpecialEnvoyJosephD.Stone,StandardOil

directingheadBillMatters,andsupposedformerVanDorndetectiveIsaacBell.

—Aftermonthsofinstigatingmurderinthestreetsandhomessetafireandpropertylootedinhopesofdistractingangrycitizensfromcontemplatingrevolution—hopeslargelyrealized—itdawnedontheczar’s

governmentthattheEuropeaninvestorsdemandingstabilitywererighttobealarmed.TheTatarpogromyagainsttheArmenianswasabouttodestroyRussia’smostvaluableindustry.SowhenPurestIncorporatedexecutiveBillMattersandSpecialCommercialEnvoyStonedrovetotheNobelrefineryinBlackTown,theBakuregionprefectandthegovernorinsistedonprovidinga

powerfulescort.Cossackoutridersin

brilliantreduniformscrownedbytallsheepskinpapakhiformedacordonaroundtheirauto—aCleveland-built,24-horsepowerPeerlessTonneaucar—whichcausedIsaacBelltoelevateeverynerveendtoitshigheststate.

Surroundedbysaber-wieldinghorsemen,thecar’srateofspeedwaslimitedtoa

brisktrot.Atthesametime,theglitteringCossackspinpointedtheexactlocationofthePeerless—itselfavisualextravaganzaofredenamelandpolishedbrass—forarevolutionarywithapistolorasniperdrawingabead.

BellwasnotparticularlyconcernedaboutarevolutionarygettingpasttheCossacks,andevenifonemanagedto,thescufflewould

givehimplentyoftimetoblowtheattacker’sheadoffwithhisColtautomatic.Asniperwasagrimmerstory,andBellwatchedanxiouslyforaglintofsmoke-darkenedsunlightonadistantrifle.Hecouldbestationedonarooforinanatticwindow,atanyheightthatpresentedalineoffireabovethetallhorsemen.

Theymovedoutofthehotelandembassydistricts,pastArmenianneighborhoods

ofshutteredhouses,andthroughslumswheretheTatars,distinguishedbytheirbluetunics,darkerskin,androundfaces,staredsullenly.TheCossacks’faceshardened,theirtensionbetrayedbystiffenedbacksanddartingeyes.

Bellhadbefriendedthechauffeur,Josef,aGeorgianwithatallpompadourofwavyblackhairandthefurtiveflickerinhiscoal-dark

eyesofapolicespyassignedtoeavesdropontheAmericans.JosefexplainedinhaltingEnglishthattheCossackshadneworderstostopthepogromy,towhichtheyhadbeenturninganofficiallysanctionedblindeye.NowtheyweretheTatars’enemy.“TatarshootCossack,”theGeorgianflungcheerfullyoverhisshouldertoBellinthebackseat.“CossackshootTatar.Make

peace.”Bellglancedat

Rockefellerbesidehim.Theoldmanwaslookingeverywherewithbigeyes.“Whatsplendidhorses!”Heseemedhappy,almostjoyful.BellspeculatedthathewasdelightedthathisSpecialEnvoydisguiseallowedhimforthefirsttimeindecadestomoveaboutinpublic.Tatarsweregloweringathispoliceescort,notatthe“mosthated

maninAmerica.”WhereasBillMatterssat

rigidlyinthefrontseatnexttothechauffeur,uncomfortableashealwaysappearedtobeinRockefeller’spresence.Hedidnotappearnervous,althoughhewashardlyatease.

Bellwasnotquitesurewhattomakeofhim.AsbrusqueandtoughashehadfoundEdnaandNellie

Matters’fatheronfirstmeeting,hehadnotseenrealindicationsofthe“hardasadamantine”thatSpikeHopewellhadcharacterized.Granted,themanhadkeptacoolheadduringthetrainattack.Hewasclearlyaccustomedtocommand.AnditseemedthattheformerindependenthadeffectedasuccessfultransitiontowhatRockefellerreferredtoasa“valuableexecutive.”But

regardlessofthehighlevelofStandardOildirectororheadofdepartmentthepresidenthadpermittedhimtoriseto,BelldidnotbelievethatBillMattershadyetbecome“oneoftheboys”whoranthesecretivetrust.

Thesmokegrewthickerinthesuburbs,theskyblacker.

TheyheadedsoutheasttowardtheBibi-EibatoilfieldandBlackTownrefineries.

Theslow-movingauto

andclatteringhorsescreptintoanenormousfieldofrefinerytanks.Beyondthetankswerecountlessrefiningpots,eachwithasquatchimneybelchingsmoke.Asharpshootercouldcrouchontheclimbingrungsononeofthechimneys,thoughhewouldbetakingabigriskofbeingseen.Themorelikelysnipingposition,liketheroostthattheassassinhadclimbeduptoinKansas,

wouldbeinthevirtualskyscrapercityofathousandoilderricksthatmarchedinclose-packedrankstotheedgeoftheCaspianSea.

ATatarplumberworkingontheroofofoneoftherefinerytanksdroppedamonkeywrench.Thetoolbangedresoundinglyagainstthemetalside.Thenoisestartledahorse.Itrearedsosuddenlythatitsridernearlyslidoffhissaddle.Fora

moment,therewasconsternation,angryshouts,andmillinghorses.Thechauffeurhadtoslamonhisbrakes.ThePeerlessstoppedabruptly,jostlingMattersagainstthewindshield,thechauffeurintohiswheel,andRockefellerhalfoffhisseatuntilcaughtandheldfirmlyinplacebyIsaacBell.

Inthatsameinstant,Bellheardthecrackofahigh-velocityrifleslugsplittheair

inchesfromthebackofhisseat.HegrabbedRockefeller’sarmtodraghimdownoutofthelineoffire.Asecondbulletstruckthetalldetectivelikeaboltoflightning.

T22

heimpactofthehigh-velocityslugthrewIsaacBellagainstthe

sidedoor,breakingitslatch.Itflewopen.HetumbledoutofthePeerless,ricochetedofftherunningboard,andsprawledontheoil-soakedroad.Stillgripping

Rockefeller’sarm,hefoundhimselfvaguelyawarethathesomehowlandedunderneaththetwo-hundred-poundmagnate.Abulletshatteredthewindshield.BillsMattersandthechauffeurjumpedfortheirlives.

Bellheardhisownvoice.HesoundedasifhewerecallingtoJohnD.Rockefellerfromapassingtrain.“AreyouO.K.?”

Theoldmanstraightened

hiswig.“My,my!Mr.Bell,your

coatisdrenchedinblood.”FromBell’snecktohis

elbow,hiswhitesuitjacketwassoakedrubyred.

Hisshoulderfeltonfire.Theshootinghadstopped.

Nowthedangerwasthesteel-shodhoofsofthepanickedhorsesplungingandrearingastheirriderslookedeverywhereatonceforthesourceofthegunfire.

Againhisvoicedriftedfromadistance.“Webetterstandup,Mr.Stone.Beforewegettrampled.”

Hestruggledtohisfeet,usedhisworkingarmtohelpRockefellertohis,thenfoundhimselfholdingontotheoldmantokeephisbalance.

“There!”Bellshouted,pointingatthederricks,thelikeliestplacetheassassinfiredfrom.

TheCossacksdrew

swordsandgallopedintheoppositedirection.

ATatarworkgangwascaughtintheirpath.TheCossacksbeganslashingandshootingindiscriminately.TheMoslemsfledfromthehorses,leavingbehindcrumpleddeadandsquirmingwoundedandsomehastilydiscardedsidearms.

IsaacBellwassurprisedtoseeJohnD.Rockefellerstandingoverhim,staring

downwithaconcernedexpression.“Mr.Bell,you’vefallendownagain.Youarewounded.”

Bellstartedtostandagain.Rockefelleradmonished

himwithanimperiousgesture.“Rightthere!AsIhavebeensaying,youarewounded.”Heraisedhisvoice.“Adoctor!Fetchadoctor!”

ItfinallystruckIsaacBellthatitwasnotagoodideato

standandhelaybackandlethismindfixonhismemoryoftheshooting.Hewassureitwastheassassin.Hewasalsofairlysurethatthebullethadbeenaimedathim,notatRockefeller.Thecarstoppingsuddenlyhadthrownoffthefirstshot.Thatwastheoneheheardcrackleovertheseatback.Hehadtakenthesecond.Aterriblethoughtpiercedhiswhirlingthoughts.Washedrawingfireatthe

manhewassupposedtoprotect?

BellmotionedtoBillMatters,oneofthefaceshoveringoverhim.

“GetMr.R—EnvoyStone—undercover.I’llcatchup.”

“YouO.K.,Bell?”Belltookinventory.

Bloodyashewas,therewerenoarteriesspurtingorhe’dhavebledtodeathbynow.Hetriedtomovehisarm.Thatmadehisshoulderhurt

worse.Buthecouldmoveit.Nobonesfractured.Thewhirlinginhisheadandageneralairofconfusionheblamedontheshockofimpactfromahigh-velocitybullet.

“Tip-top,”hesaid.“GetEnvoyStoneundercover!Now!”

Mattersknelttospeakprivately.“Hesayshewon’tleaveyouhere.”

“TellhimIsaidtoget

undercoverbeforehegetskilledandIlosemyonlyclient.ExplaintohimthatIdon’tknowwhat’sgoingonandIcan’thelphimatthismoment.”

Theywerestillshoutingforadoctor.

Oneappeared,asturdy,barrel-chestedyoungmaninathreadbarecoat,whokneltbesidehim,openedhisbag,andtookoutapairofscissors.HecutawayBell’s

blood-soakedcoatandshirtsleeves,exposingaraggedtearthroughthefleshofhisupperbiceps.HereachedforabottleofcarbolicacidandmutteredsomethinginRussian.

“What?”askedBell.“Ishurting.But

important.”“Beatsinfection,”Bell

agreed.Hebracedforthefierydisinfectant.Foralongmoment,theskyturneddark.

Afterwardsthedoctorbandagedthewound,thentookahypodermicneedlefromitsnestinaboxpaddedwithredvelvet.

“What’sinthat?”askedBell.

“Morphine.Youarefeelingnothing.”

“Saveitforthenextguy—WhatarethoseCossacksshouting?”

“What?”“Doctor,youspeak

English.”“IstudyatEdinburgh.”“Iwillpayyoutwenty

rublesadaytobemytranslator.WhatarethoseCossacksshouting?”

Thedoctor’seyeswidened.OnJanuary’sBloodySunday,theworkersgunneddownattheWinterPalacehadbeendemandingtheirpayberaisedtoadailysalaryofoneruble.

“Whatisyourname?”

askedBell.“AlexeyIrineivoich

Virovets.”“Dr.Virovets,whatare

thoseCossacksshouting?”“Theyarerecognizingthe

capturedgunsasbeinglootedfromarmory.”

Bellleveredhimselfontohisgoodelbow.Hesawpistolsheapedonahorseblanketbutnosharpshooter’sweapons.

“Nowwhat’shesaying?”

ACossackofficerwasreportingloudlytoaciviliandressedintophatandfrockcoat.Bellpeggedhimforthegovernor’srepresentativeoranOkhranaoperative.

“Heblamestheattackonrevolutionaries,”saidVirovets.

“Helpmeup.We’regoingforawalk.”

“Iamnotrecommending—”

“Yourobjectionisnoted.”

Twentyminuteslater,withhisarminasling,thesturdyDr.Virovetsathisside,andanxiousoilcompanyofficialstrailingthem,IsaacBellwalkedbesidetheCaspiansurfbreakingatthefeetofthederricksuntilhefoundonethathadbeenabandoned.Asmuchashewantedtoclimbtoitsparapet,hedoubtedhecouldwithoneworkingarmandaspinninghead.

ThedoctorclimbedforhimandreportedbackthathecouldseetheCossacksstillclusteredwherethebulletshadraineddownonthePeerless.Bellwasnotsurprised.Forgingaheadbeforetheotherstrampledthebeach,hehadspottedasinglesetoffootprintsinthesandthathadapproachedtheladderfromonedirectionandleftinanother.

Butitwaspuzzling.The

derrickwaslessthanfivehundredyardsfromwheretheautohadbeen.Howcouldtheassassinhavemissedtwice?Thesuddenstopcouldexplainthefirstbulletgoingawry.Butwhyhadn’tthesecondorthirdhithiminthehead?Ortheassassin’sfavoritetarget,theneck?

I23

saacBellwokeupstiffandsorethenextmorningtoaslewof

ciphercablegramsfromNewYork.ThefirstwasfromGradyForrer,whocontinuedtosubstituteasdirectingheadofthecaseinhisabsence.

FIVEPOINTERSBLAMEGOPHERS.

BelltookthattomeanthatVanDorndetectiveshaddiscoveredthatAnthonyMcCloud’sfellowFivePointsgangstersdidnotbelievehehadfallendrunkintotheEastRiverbuthadbeenmurdered.TheynaturallyblamedtheirrivalstheGopherGang.Butwhoeverhadkilledhim,andwhateverthemotive,itwasa

heckofacoincidenceithappenedthedayofthefirethatkilledhismother.

Bellcabledback

INFORMNEWYORKCORONER.

entertainingaslimhopethatthecity’smedicalexaminercouldbepersuadedtodigupAverellComstock’sbodytoinvestigateforacauseof

deathotherthanoldage.Acablethatread

HOPEWELLOFTENNEWYORK.

toldBellthatWallyKisleyandMackFultonweregraspingatstrawsaboutSpikeHopewell’s“tricksuphissleeve”inference.Anyindependenttryingtobuildarefineryandpipelinewould

havetotravelregularlytoNewYorkCitytoromancehisWallStreetbankers.

ButtheinformationthatForrerpassedalongfromDaveMcCoartresonatedwithhopeofabreakthroughonthegunsmithfront—cluesthatJosephVanDornbelievedcouldleadthemtothecraftsmanwhosmithedtheassassin’sdeadlyweapon.

THREEPOSSIBLES.

TWOHARTFORD.ONEBRIDGEPORT.BOSSAUTHORIZEDDETECTIVES.

ArchieAbbott,ontheotherhand,stillhadnothingtoreportaboutsharpshooterBillyJones.

ARMYUNFRIENDLY.PURSUINGFRIENDSHIPBRIGADIERGENERALDAUGHTER.ISSUPREMESACRIFICE

AUTHORIZED?

Bellhadjustwritteninencipheronthecablegramblank

AUTHORIZEDONTHEJUMP.

whenDoctorVirovetsarrivedtochangehisbandage.Thewoundwasclean,withnosignofinfection,buttheyagreedonanotherdoseof

carbolicacidtobeonthesafeside.Fordistraction,Bellaskedaboutthevarietyoflanguagesheheardspokeninthestreets.“Tatar,”thedoctorexplained,“GeorgianandRussian.”

“MayIborrowyourstethoscope?”Bellaskedasthedoctorwasleaving.

JohnD.Rockefellerwalkedincarryingatrayofmilkandpryaniki,theRussianspicecookiesof

whichBellhadgrownfond.“I’msurprisedtoseeyou

dressed,Mr.Bell.IpresumedIwouldventureoutalonetoday.”

“Icouldusethefreshair.”ARenaultlimousinewas

waitingwithitscurtainsdrawn.AtBell’sinsistence,theCossackshadbeenreplacedbyplainclothespolicedetectivesonfoot.Sometrottedalongside,huffingandpuffing,asthey

pulledontotheavenue.OthersrodebehindtheminanidenticalRenault,Bellhavingconvincedthecopsthatsimilarlimousineswouldconfuseasniper.

HeandRockefellersatinneardarknessbehindthecurtains.Bellwatchedthestreetsthroughasplitinthecloth,wonderingwhetherasenseofshareddangermightinclinethereticentRockefellertoopenup

furthertohim.Hetestedthewaterswithajoke.

“Iguesswecan’tblametheassassinforslanderingStandardOilifheshootsatthepresident.”

“Hewasn’tshootingatme,”saidRockefeller.“Hewasshootingatyou.”

“Areyousureaboutthat?”“Youaretheonewithhis

arminasling,notI.”“Isn’titpossiblehehitme

whenhemissedyou?”

“Thefirstreportyoufiledwhenyoucametoworkformestatedthathehasmissedhisshotonrareoccasions.Andneverbymuch.Hewasshootingatyou.”

“Soundslikeyounolongerneedabodyguard.”

“Don’tworry,yourjobisnotatrisk.Bakuisteemingwithangrypeopleprimedtokillforeveryimaginablereason.I’mgladtohaveyouwithus.”

“Areyoufreetotellmewhowearecallingon?”

“Inconfidence.Pleasebearinmindthisisnottoberepeated.WearemeetingarepresentativeoftheShahofPersia.”

“HasMr.Mattersgoneahead?”

“Mr.Mattershasotherbusiness.”

“MayIask—?”Rockefeller’seyescut

throughthedimlylit

passengercabinlikelocomotiveheadlamps.“Youhavemanyquestionstoday,Mr.Bell.”

“Gettingshotmakesmecuriousaboutwhattoexpectnext.IwasabouttoaskwhetheryouaremeetingthisrepresentativeasCommercialEnvoyStoneorasthepresidentofStandardOil.”

“Iamtheretiredpresident,”Rockefellershotback.

“Ikeepforgetting,”saidBell.

Thatdrewastonysilence.Butminuteslater,Rockefellerdroppedhisvoicetoahalfwhisperandconfided,“Icannotansweryourquestion,becauseIhavenotyetdecided.IkeephearingaproverbinBaku.Perhapsyou’veheardit,too.‘InPersianomanbelievesanother.’”

“Theyloveinsults,”said

Bell.“Armeniansaresharpers;Georgiansaredrunkards;Tatarssimultaneouslyviolent,unintelligent,andkindly;Germansdull,Cossacksvicious,Russianspetty.AllagreethatPersiansareliars.Whichshouldn’tcomeasasurpriseaftercenturiesoftyrannyandmisgovernment.”

RockefellerfavoredBell’sobservationwithathinsmileandthefurtherconfidence

thatthedetectivewasanglingfor.“Idon’tknowyetwhetherIamdealingwithliars.AllIknowisthatIwillbeginasEnvoyStone.WhetherIbecomeMr.Rockefellerwilldependuponhowmuchnoisetheymakeandhowmuchdusttheythrowintheair.”

TheRenaultstoppedatasideentrancetotheAstoria,oneofthelavishnewhotelsnearCityHall.Theyslipped

inquietly,skirtedthelobby,guidedbyahotelfunctionary,toaserviceelevatorthattookthemtoapenthousekitchen.APersiansecretarygreetedRockefellerinflawlessEnglish.“Itismypleasuretoreport,sir,thatnoonehasmarkedyourarrival.Wearepreparedfortheprivatemeetingyourequested.”

“Yourequestedthemeeting,”Rockefellercorrectedhim,politelybut

firmly.“Irequestedprivacy.”“Thenwearebothhappy,

sir.”ThePersianwasslimandlitheasacat,andasgraceful,withlargeeyesinanarrowface.

RockefellerturnedtoBell.“Waithere.”

“Ihavetoinspecttheroomwhereyouaregoing,”saidBell.

“Itisperfectlysafe,”saidthesecretary.

“Istillwanttoseeit,”said

Bell.“Itisallright,”said

Rockefeller,“Itrustourhosts.”

Bellsaid,“IfIcannotseewhereyouaregoing,ImustinsistthatIwaitdirectlyoutside.Atthedoorinthenextroom.”

“Insist?”Thesecretary’seyebrowsarchedaboveamockingsmile.

Bellignoredhim.ToRockefellerhesaid,“Bythe

termsofourcontract,ouragreementisvoidedif,inmyopinion,youplacemeinapositionthatIcannotprotectyou.Underthoseconditions,theseverancefeeiscalculatedonthetimeitwilltakemetoreturntoNewYork.Thepurposeofthatclauseistomakeyouthinktwiceaboutstrayingtoofarfrommyprotection.”

“Irecall,”saidRockefeller.Headdressedthe

secretary,“Takeustotheroomwherewearetomeet.Mr.Bellwillwaitoutsidethedoor.”

Theyputhiminthefoyer,whichwasexactlywhereIsaacBellwantedtobe.Hewaiteduntilhewasalone,closedtheouterdoor,pulledarubberstopfromhispocket,andwedgeditunderthedoor.ThenheuntangledthestethoscopehehadborrowedfromDr.AlexeyIrineivoich

Virovets,insertedtheeartubes,andpressedthechestpieceagainstthethinnestofthewoodenpanels.

ThesecretarywasactingastranslatorforaPersianofveryhighrank,guessingbythesecretary’sobsequiousmannerofspeakingtohim.Bellheardaroundofelaborategreetings.ThenRockefellergotdowntobusiness.

“TellHisExcellencythatI

haveagiftfortheshahwaitinginmyhotelstables.”

Thiswastranslatedandtheanswertranslatedback.“Theshahisagreatloverofhorses.”

“Tellhimthatthisgiftfortheshahhasmanyhorses.”

Thetranslationbackwasapuzzled“Howmanyhorses?”

Rockefeller,clearlyenjoyinghimself,said,“Tellhimmany,many,brightredandshinybrass.”

“Motors?”“Thefinestautosthat

Clevelandbuilds,”answeredRockefeller.“They’llridecirclesaroundRolls-Royce.Now,tellhim,let’sgetdowntobrasstacks—thatexpressionmeans‘business,’youngfellow.Tellhimthepipelinewillcosttheshahnotonepenny.IwillpayforeveryfootofpipefromRashttothePersianGulf.AndIwillbuildthetankerpiersand

abreakwatertoprotecttheharbor.”

TheanswerinPersianwaslong,andittookthetranslatoralongtimetocraftahalting,vaguereply.

“Bytheterms...ofcertain...understandings...InthenameofthemostmercifulandcompassionateGod,HisMajestytheshah...prefers...tosecure,pleaseGod,theagreementofcertain...neighbors.”

IsaacBellgleanedfromRockefeller’sbluntreplythathis“correspondents”hadlaidalotofgroundworktogettothismeetingwithapersonagewhohadtheshah’sear.Theoldmandidnotsoundonebitsurprised.Nordidhehesitate.

“TellhimtotelltheshahthatIampreparedtopayofftheneighbor’sloan.”

Aftertranslation,therewasalongsilence.Finally,thePersianspoke.The

secretarytranslated,“Howmuchofit?”

“Everyruble.”

—Ontheirwayout,theyhademergedfromtheserviceelevatorandwerehalfwayalongtheedgeofthelobbywhenIsaacBellsuddenlyshoulderedRockefellertowardacorridorthatenteredfromtheside.

“Whatisit?”askedRockefeller,resistingwithhisfullweight.PainshotthroughBell’swound.

“Keepwalking.Turnyourfacetowardme.”

Bellsteeredhimdownthecorridorandintothefirstshop,afloristfilledwithgiantspraysofout-of-seasontulipsandelaborateconcoctionsofroses.Beforethedoorhadclosedbehindthem,heheardfamiliar

ringinglaughter.“Goodlord.Theymake

Pittsburghlookpositivelygenteel.”

Bellpressedagainstthewindowforasharplyangledviewofthelobby.

“Whatisit?”Rockefellerdemanded.

“TwoladieswhowillnotbefooledbySpecialEnvoyStone.”

—JohnD.Rockefellerwasenraged,buthehadheldoffsayinganythinguntiltheywerebackattheirownhotelwhereBillMatterscouldbecalledonthecarpet.

“Thatnewspaperwomanishere,”herailed.“Yourdaughter.WhatisshedoinginBaku?”

BillMatterswas

genuinelyapologetic.Helookedcompletelybaffled.“IhadnoideaeitherofmydaughterswascomingtoBaku.”

“SheistheauthorofTheHistoryoftheUnder-andHeavy-handedOilMonopoly.”

“Yes,Iknow,sir,but—”Rockefellerwhirledon

IsaacBell.“Mr.Bell,didyouknowthatshewascominghere?”

“ThefirstIknew,”Belllied,“waswhenwesawherattheAstoria.”

“Findoutwhatsheknows.NoonemustlearnI’mhere.”

“Letmedothat,”saidMatters.“Please.She’smydaughter.She’llconfideinme.”

RockefellerlookedatBell,demandinghisopinion.

Bellsaid,“E.M.Hockhasnoreasontoconfideinme.Iwillcallonher,ofcourse,as

we’vebecomefriends.Andhersister.Butno,I’mnottheonetoquestionher.BetterforMr.Matterstodoit.”

—Halfthevast,dimlylit,high-ceilingedvaultthathousedtheHoteldel’Europe’sstablesremainedahousebarnandcarriagehouse.Halfhadbeenconvertedintoamodernautoandlimousinegarage

withgasolinepumpsandmechanicsbays.

BellwenttherewithAlexeyIrineivoichVirovetsintheeventheneededatranslator.Hefoundtheshot-upPeerless,withitswindshieldnotyetrepaired.Theyhadparkeditoutoftheway,attheback.Hiddenbehinditweretwolargewoodenshippingcratescoveredincanvas.Bellliftedtheclothandlookedunderit.

InthecratesweretwoidenticalredPeerlessautos,justasRockefellerhadtoldthePersians.

Virovetstranslatedthewritingonvariousshippingstickerspastedtothecrates.TheautoshadbeenoriginallysenttoMoscow,thensouthonfreighttrainstoBaku.Itwasstrange,Bellthought,whenhediscussedthedetailsofthetripwithBillMatters,thePipeLineCommittee

directorhadnevermentionedtheautos.HadMattersthoughtthemunrelatedtoabodyguard’sconcernsforRockefeller’ssafety?Ordidhenotknowaboutthem?Itseemed,Bellthought,oddforRockefellertokeeptheautossecretfromacolleague.Butforwhateverreasontheywerehidden,itwasclearagainthatRockefellerhadplannedthistripfarahead.

—“Well,Father,hereweareallthreehavingteaasifwe’reofftothetheaterinNewYork.”

“I’mverysurprisedtoseeyou.”

“Howcouldyoube?”askedNellie.“Ednawritesabouttheoilbusiness.”

Ednawasquietlywatchingtheirfatherand

lettingNelliedothetalking.Theirfathersaid,“Ididn’t

thinkthattheOilCityDerrickhadthemeanstosendareportertoBaku.”

Nelliesaid,“Clevelandwouldbemoretheirlimit.Ednaiswritingfor...MayItellhim,Edna?”

“It’shardlyasecret.”“TheNewYorkSun!What

doyouthinkofthat,Father?Yourdaughteriswritingforoneofthefinestnewspapers

inthecountry.”“TheSunisnofriendof

StandardOil.”“FortunatelyforStandard

Oil,”saidEdna,“StandardOildoesnotdependonthekindnessoffriends.”

“Andfurthermore,”saidNellie,allexcitedwithcolorhighinhercheeks,“BakucouldbethebiggestthingtohittheoilbusinesssinceSpindletop.”

“Inanoppositeway,”

Ednainterrupteddrily.“Cuttingproductioninhalfinsteadofspoutinggushers.”

“Idon’tknowifthesituationisthatbad,”Matterssaidautomatically.“Theauthoritiesseembackincontrol.”

“Really?”askedEdna.“There’sarumormakingtheroundsthatshotswerefiredatsomeAmericanbusinessmen.”

BillMattersshrugged.

“Anisolatedincident.”“Apparently,”saidEdna,

“theCossacksreactedbyslaughteringrefineryworkers.Andnowtherestareupinarms.”

Mattersshruggedagain.“It’sRussia.Myimpressionistheauthoritieshavestrictcontrolofthesituation.”

“Andwhatareyoudoinghere,Father?Lastweheard,youwereinCleveland.Ijustmailedyouapostcardthere.

HadIknown,Icouldhavehandedittoyouandsavedastamp.”

“Mr.Rockefellersentmetorustleupsomerefinerybusiness—anddon’tprintthat.”

“Notwithoutverification,”Ednasaid.

Nellielaughedsoloudlythatpeopleglancedfromnearbytables.“Father,youshouldseeyourface.Youknowdarnedwellshewon’t

printthat.Certainthingsaresacred.”

“Fatherissacred,”saidEdnawithawinkthatwarmedBillMatters’heart.

Hesatbackwithahappysmileonhisface.Theyhadboughthisstory.

“It’slikeoldtimes,”hesaid.

Thegirlsexchangedaglance.“Whateverdoyoumean?”askedNellie,andEdnaasked,“Whatareyou

smilingabout,Father?”“LikegoingtoNewYork

toseeaplaybackwhenyouwereinpigtails.”

“‘Pigtails’?”echoedNellieinmockhorror.“Wheneveryoutookustothetheater,wedressedlikeperfectlittleladies.”

“Evenafterweceasedtobe,”saidEdna.

“AllI’msayingis,itmakesmeveryhappy.”

—“WhowasthatmanwithE.M.HockandNellieMatters?”JohnD.RockefelleraskedIsaacBell.“IsawhimattheAstoria,andlurkinghereinthelobbywhentheycameforteawiththeirfather.”

“Heistheirbodyguard.”“Helooksthepart,I

suppose.Butareyousure?”

“Iknowhimwell,”saidBell.“AloysiusClarke.HewasaVanDorndetective.”

“AVanDorn?WhatisaVanDorndoinghere?”

“Notanymore.Mr.VanDornlethimgo.”

“Forwhat?”“Drinking.”“Drinking?I’dhave

thoughtthatwasnotuncommonamongdetectives.”

“Mr.VanDorngavehim

severalchances.”“Whodoesheworkfor

now?”“I’dimaginehe’sgone

freelance.I’llspeakwithhim,findoutwhat’sup.”

Rockefellerasked,“Whatisthatsmileonyourface,Mr.Bell?There’ssomethinggoingonhereIdon’tunderstand.”

“Iwasgladtoseehim.WishClarkeisavaluableman.Ijustmayaskhimto

joinforces.”“Rightthere!Notwhilehe

servesE.M.Hock!”“Ofcoursenot.Inthe

future,afterwe’reallsafelybackhome.”

M24ydaughterisreportingfortheNewYorkSun!”

BillMattersexultedtoJohnD.Rockefeller.“It’sabigfeatherinhercap.Awonderfulstepup!”

“DoessheknowIaminBaku?”

“Absolutelynot!”“Whatmakesyousosure?

Howdoyouknowshedidn’tfollowmehere?”

“Theysenthertocovertheriots.”

“Therearen’tanyriots.”“Thatcouldchangeina

flash,Mr.Rockefeller.Youcanfeelitinthestreets.Andmydaughtertoldmethattheofficialsshe’sinterviewedsounddeeplyworried...Now,sir,Iknowthatyou

can’tabidetheSun.NeithercanI,but—”

Rockefellerstoppedhimwithagesture.“Rightthere!TheSunisnonsense.Newspapersareallnonsense.Thelesstheyknowisallthat’simportanttome.”

“Shedoesn’tknowyou’rehere.”

Rockefellerstared.“Allright.Iwillhavetotakeyourwordforit.”

“It’snotonlymyword,

Mr.Rockefeller.Itismyjudgment.AndIguaranteeyou,sir,ifshehadtoldmethatsheknewyouwerehere,Iwouldinformyouimmediately.”

Rockefellershookhisheadandwhispered,“Shewouldnevertellyou.”

“Ibegyourpardon?”“Allright!I’msending

youtoMoscow.”“Moscow?”Matterswas

stunned.Howcouldhework

onthePersianpipelinefromMoscow?“Why?”

“Weneedthoserefinerycontracts.Youhavedoneallyoucanwiththelocalofficials.NowyoumustconvinceMoscowthattheStandard’sthoroughgoing,ableadministrationwilldomuchbetterforRussia’soilbusinessthantheseold,good-for-nothing,rusted-outrefineries.Andifyoucan’tfindtherightofficialsin

Moscow,you’llgoontoSt.Petersburg.”

“Butwhataboutthepipeline?”

“Firsttherefineries.”

—IsaacBellmetAloysiusClarkeontheBakuwaterfront.Theoily,smokyairhadbeenclearedbyasharpwindblowingacrossthebayfromtheCaspian.

Lightswerevisibleformilesalongthegreatcrescentharbor,andBellsawstarsintheskyforthefirsttimesincehehadarrivedinBaku.

Bellthoughthisoldpartnerlookedprettygood,allthingsconsidered.Hewasabig,powerfulmanwhocarriedhisextraweightwell.Hisfacewasgettingfleshyfromdrink,hismouthhadasoftnessassociatedwithindulgence,andhisnosehad

takenontherosyhuebelovedbypaintersportrayinglushes,buthiseyeswerestillhardandsharp.Itwasdifficulttotellwhathewasthinking,orifhewasthinkingatall,unlessyoucaughtanunguardedglimpseofhiseyes,whichwasnotlikely.Besides,Belltoldhimself,aprivatedetectivemistakenforadrunkardboughttheextrasecondsrequiredtogethisfootinadoor.

WishwrappedhistonguearoundtheEnglishlanguagewithaself-taughtreader’slove.“BestjobIcanremember.Sumptuousfeastsandthefinestwinessharednightlywithapairoflookers.AndJoeVanDornpaysthepiper...Howbad’sthatarm?”

“Healingfast,”saidBell.HeflickedopenhiscoattorevealaColtBisleysingle-actionrevolverwherehe

usuallyholsteredhisautomatic,andWishnodded.SinceBellcouldnotyetrelyonthestrengthinhishandtoworktheslidetoloadaroundintohisautomatic’schamber,thespecialtargetpistolversionoftheColt.45wasanaccurate,hard-hittingsubstitute.

“How’dyougetyourpawsonaBisley?”

“YoucanbuyanythinginBaku.”

Asuddengustbuffetedthesidewalk.Wishsaid,“Ireadsomewherethat‘Baku’isPersianfor‘windbeaten.’”

Theywalkeduntiltheyfoundasaloonthatcateredtoseacaptainswhocouldafforddecentfoodandgenuinewhiskey.Theyateanddrankandgotcomfortablereminiscing.Finally,Bellasked,“Whatdoyouthinkofthelookers?”

Wishhadbeenhispartner

ontoughcases.Thetwodetectivestrustedeachotherasonlymencouldwhohadbeenstabbedineachother’scompanyandshotineachother’scompany.Havingsolvedeverycrimetheytackled,theytrustedeachother’sinstincts.Eachwastheother’sbestdevil’sadvocate—rolestheycouldbatbackandforthlikecompetitiontennisplayers.

“Ednaisaveryserious

younglady,”saidWish.“Angrierthanyouwouldthink,atfirst,aboutthewayRockefeller’sriddenroughshodoverherfather.Nellie’sashow-off.She’dmakeagreatactress.Orapolitician.She’llmakeaheckofasplashifshecanpulloffherNewWoman’sFlyoverstunt.”

HegaveBellaninquiringglance.“Whichonedidyoufallfor?”

“Haven’tmadeupmymind.”

Wishchuckled.“Thatsoundsverymuchlikeboth.”

“Itisconfusing,”Belladmitted.“ThereissomethingaboutEdna...But,then,thereissomethingaboutNellie...”

“What?”“Edna’sdeepasthe

ocean.Nelliedazzleslikeakaleidoscope.”

“Idon’tseeeithermaking

awifeanytimesoon.”“I’mnotrushing.”Agustofwindstronger

thantheothersshookthebuilding.Sandblownacrossthebayrattledthewindowpaneslikehail.

“Let’sgettotherealquestion,”saidWish.“Who’stheassassinshootingfor?”

Bellsaid,“YouknowhowtheycallStandardOiltheoctopus?”

“Aptly,”saidWish.

“I’mthinkingourmastermindismorelikeashark.Hangingaroundthismonster-sizeoctopus,thinkingifhecanjustsinkhisteethintooneortwoarms,he’llhavehimselfthemealofalifetime.He’sshiftingtheblameforhiscrimestotheStandard.Ifhecanpullitoff,hereckonstopickupsomepieces.Ifitreallygoeshisway,hefigureshe’llcontrolthesecond-biggesttrustin

oil.”Wishnodded.“I’dcall

thatbasisforamightystronghunch.”

“Hecouldbeinsidethecompanyoranoutsider,anoilman,orarailroadman,orincoalorsteel.Evenacorporationlawyer.”

“Avaluableman,”saidWish,“amanonhiswayup...Say,whereareyougoing?Haveanother.”

Bellhadstoodupandwas

reachingformoney.“My‘boss,’Mr.Rockefeller,iswaitingformetoconfirmthatDetectiveAloysiusClarkeisnolongeraVanDornbutafreelancebodyguardforNellieMattersandE.M.Hock,whoaretravelingtogetherforsafety.AndthatDetectiveClarkegavenohinttomethateitherknowsthatMr.RockefellerisinBaku.”

“Rockefeller?Neverheardofhim,”grinnedWish.He

glancedatthebottletheyweresharing.HisgazeshiftedtoBell’sarminhissling.“Holdon,”hesaid,“I’llwalkyouback.”

“Staythere.I’mO.K.”“Intheeventyougetina

gunfightofsuchdurationthatyouhavetoreload,IwouldneverforgivemyselfifIdidn’tgiveyouronehandahand.”

Outside,thesharpnorthwindthathadclearedthesky

ofsmokeearlierwasblowingagale.Thestarshaddisappearedagain,obscurednowbythesandthattheharshgustsweresuckingintotheair.Theharborlightswerebarelyvisible.Acausticblastrattledpebblesagainstwalls.

“Lookthere!”Agracefulthree-masted,

gaff-riggedschoonerstruggledalongsideanoilberth,sailsfurled,decks

ripplingwithdarkfigurescrowdingtogetoff.Themomentitlanded,gangsofTatarsarmedwithriflesjumpedontothepierandrantowardthecity.

WishClarkesaid,“Ifthecityblows?”

“Weevacuate.”Thesand-swirledskyover

theoilfieldsacrossthebaywasabruptlyaglow.

Withinthecityitself,small-armsfirecrackled.

TheyhurriedupVokzalnayatowardtherailroadstation.Thegunfiregotlouder,pistolandrifleshotspunctuatedallofasuddenbytheheavierchurningofArmymachineguns.Lookingback,Bellsawtheskyoverthebaygettingredder.AglowaheadmarkedmansionssetafireintheArmeniandistrict.

Theybrokeintoaruntowardthehoteldistrict.

“We’llgrabtheladiesatyourplace,”saidBell,“thenMr.R.atmine.”

“Thenwhat?Landorsea?”

“Whicheverwecangetto,”saidIsaacBell.

I25

saacBelltelephonedJohnD.RockefellerfromtheAstoriaHotel’s

lobby.“Packonebagandwear

yourwarmestcoat.We’rerunningforit.”

“Isthislogical?”“Imperative,”saidBell.

“Ihavetosendcables.”“Quickly.”Upstairs,heandWish

foundEdnaMatterswithacarpetbagandhertypewriteralreadyatthedoor,andalarge-scalemapofthelandsborderingtheCaspianandBlackSeasspreadoutonherbed.

“Where’sNellie?”“Ontheroof.”“What’sshedoingonthe

roof?”askedWish.

“It’sthenearestthingtoaballoon,”saidEdna.“She’scheckingthelayoftheland.”

“Gogether,Wish.”BellturnedtoEdna’s

map,whichhehadalreadybeenreviewinginhismind.ThetraintoTiflisandBatumandaBlackSeasteamerwouldwhiskthemtoConstantinopleinfourdays.Butitwastooeasytostopatrainwhereoutlawsweretheonlylaw.

EdnatracedtheCaspianSearoutenorthtoAstrakhananduptheVolgaRiver.“TsaritsynsteamersconnectwiththeMoscowtrain.”

Bellsaid,“Idon’tfancygettingtrappedinthemiddleofaRussianrevolution,ifthat’swhat’sbrewing.”

“NooneI’veinterviewedknowswhatwillhappennext,”saidEdna.

“Leastofall,theRussians.”

“PoorFather.I’mworriedsickabouthimbanishedtoMoscow.”

Bellwenttothewindowandlookeddownatthestreet.Atrolleyhadstoppedonitstracks.Peopleluggingbagsstreamedoffitandhurriedtowardtherailroadstation.Hecranedhisheadtotrytoseethestation,buttheanglewaswrong.Theskylookedred.Shadowsleaped,thrownbymuzzleflashes.Guns

crackledandpeopleranineverydirection.ForwhateverreasonRockefellerhadsentMatterstoMoscow,hewasbetteroffthantheywereatthemoment.

Nellieburstintotheroom,colorhigh,eyesbright.

WishClarkewasrightbehindher,hisexpressiongrim.“BiggunfightonMillionnayaandariotatthetrainstation,”hereported.“Nelliespottedawayacross

Vokzalnayaifwewanttheharbor.”

“Wewantit,”saidBell.“Let’sgo.”

—TheHoteldel’Europewasguardedbynervousplainclothespolice.Europeanspacedthelobbyshoutingatfrightenedstaff.ThehotelpianistbeganplayingaSchubertserenade

asif,IsaacBellthoughtfleetingly,hehopedtohelptheworldrightitself.Bellrantogethiscarpetbag.Rockefeller’ssuite,adjoininghisroom,wasempty.Bellsearcheditandranbackdowntothelobby.Wishwasstandingonthestairs,wherehecouldwatchthedoors.EdnaandNelliestoodbehindhim.Bothwomenwereeerilycalm.

“Didyousee

Rockefeller?”“No.”“There!”saidEdna.Theoilmagnatewas

exitingthehotelmanager’soffice.Helookedlikehewasheadedtoagardenpartyinhisdandy’scostume,butEdnahadseenthroughthewigdisguiseinaflash.Bellsawherbeautifulfaceharden.Herlipswerepressedtightly,dotsofcolorflushedonhercheekbones,andhereyes

settledonRockefellerwithanintensitystokedbyhatred.

HeglancedatNellie.Everytraceofthebigsmileusuallyreadyonherlipshadextinguishedlikeaburningcoalplungedincoldwater.Thecolorofhereyes,likeEdna’s,shedeverysoftvestigeofgreenandturnedgrayasash.

Wishmuttered,astheyplungedacrossthecrowdedlobbytointercept

Rockefeller,“Areyoustillsureyouwanttoruntogether?Theyoungladiesareprimedtoclawhiseyesout.”

“Notmyfirstchoice,”saidBell.“Butit’souronlychoice.”

Rockefellersawthemhurryingtowardhimandsaid,“Thereyouare.Iwasjustpayingourhotelbill.”

“Bill?”echoedWish.“Thetown’sblowingup.”

“Ipaymydebts.”Themanagerranfromhis

officeandputthelietothat.“EnvoyStone!Ifthey

replytoyourcables,whereshallIforwardtheanswers?”

“NewYork.”“EnvoyStone!”IsaacBell

saidwiththeiceofcoldsteelinhisvoice.“We’regoing—now.Stickclose.”

—

ThesituationonVokzalnayadeterioratedradicallybeforetheywerehalfwaytotheharbor.Here,too,thetrolleyhadstopped.SuddenlyTatarswererunningupthemiddleofthestreetshootingpistolsatwell-dressedArmenianshuddledingroups.

RussianArmysoldierswheeledupaMaximgunonaheavySokolovmount.Asthemachinegunnersproppeditonitslegs,theTatarsfled

aroundthecorner.TheArmeniansrantowardthestation,mothersdraggingchildren,youngmenandwomenhelpingtheirelders.

PistolfireraineddownontheRussiansoldiersfromabove.Thegunnerstiltedthewater-jacketedbarrelupward.TheMaximchurned,andastreamofslugsblastedsecond-storywindows.

Fromoneofthosewindowsflewabaseball-size

spherewithaglitteringtailofaburningfuse.Stillintheair,itexplodedwithaflashandasharpbang,andthestreetandsidewalksweresuddenlylitteredwithbodies.Woundedwerereelingawaywhenasecondbombexplodedprematurelystillinsidethewindow.Nooneremainedaliveinthecircleofthetwoexplosions,nottheTatars,Armenians,ortheRussianguncrewsprawled

aroundtheMaxim.IsaacBellandAloysius

Clarkechargedstraightatit.AMaximgunandathousand.303roundsintrainedhandswouldbetheirticketaboardanyshiprunningfromtheharbor.WishheavedonehundredfortypoundsofMaximandSokolovmountoverhisshoulder.Bellscoopedupfourcanvasammunitionbeltsinhisgoodarmandlooped

themaroundhisneck.“Go!”Theystaggeredtowardthe

harbor,closelytrailedbyNellieandEdnaandRockefeller.AtthefootofVokzalnaya,amobofpeoplewasstormingthepassengersteamerpierfightingtogetupthegangwayoftheoneremainingship.Shipsthathadalreadyfledwerefaracrossthebay,lightsfadinginthesandhazeasthey

steamedforthesafetyoftheopensea.

“Mr.Bell!”criedRockefeller.“IsthattheNobellubricatingoilrefineryafire?”

TheStandardOilpresident’seyeslockedonthesightofahugefiremilesupthecoastatBlackTown.Fromthewhite-hotheartofit,flamesleapedathousandfeetintotheair.

“Lookslikeit,”saidBell,

whowasscanningthefingerpiersforalikelyship.TheyhadtouredthatRussianrefineryyesterday.Rockefellerwasschemingtobuyit,buttheMoscow-basedbranchoftheNobeldynamitefamilyhadnointentionofselling.Nowtheprizehadgoneupinsmoke.

“Trampfreighter,”saidWish,swinginghisshouldertopointtheMaximupthewaterfronttowardasteamer

soolditstillhadmasts.“Theywon’tbefightingtogetonthatone.”

Bellsawthatthetrampwasbillowingsmokefromitssinglestack.“He’sraisingsteam.”

Theyherdedtheirchargestowardit.ButastheygotclosetheysawWishhadbeenwrong.Crowdsconvergingonitspierhadforcedtheirwayonboard.Overloaded,theshipwasheelingata

dangerousangle.“Wait,there’sonecoming

in.”Asmallshipshowingno

lightsslippedoutofthedark.Itlookedlikesalvation.ThentheysawtheTatars.Theywerecrowdedondeck,astheyhadbeenontheschoonerthatlandedearlier,apackedmassofangrymenbristlingwithweapons.

“Where’sMr.Rockefeller?”

Theoldmanhaddisappeared.