The Patriot Threat (45 page)

“That was in James Mellon’s garden,” their host said. “There are a lot of tales about it. Some say it represented the premature death of a Mellon woman, and the father took up the charge of raising the child. But the simple truth is James had it made in Scotland as a lawn ornament. The artist named it
Motherless.
After James died it was moved here as adornment. No mystery at all.”

But it was striking.

“I was told,” the superintendent said, “that you wanted to be brought here. Unfortunately, I can’t open the doors. That would violate our rules. Only the family can allow that.”

She needed this man to leave. “Could you excuse us. Come back in half an hour or so.”

She saw the perplexed look on his face, but he left with no argument. She assumed the White House had also requested privacy.

They stood silent until the car’s taillights faded down the road.

“That key,” Levy said. “You think it opens the lock?”

“Let’s find out.”

They walked across the soft grass and stepped up to the iron doors. A notched hole was visible in the right bronze panel. She removed the key from her pocket, the one Mellon had left inside the painting, and slipped it in.

Which fit perfectly.

She worked the stem right, then left, and freed the lock, releasing the latch with a distinctive click.

“Looks like we don’t need the family’s permission,” she said.

They opened the doors and shined their lights inside. More white marble could be seen, the walls lined with markers where Mellon relations lay. She studied the dates and saw that there hadn’t been a burial here since 1970. One section was blank, its marble front gone, the stone niche beyond it empty.

“That must have been for Andrew,” Levy said. “Before he was moved.”

She agreed.

“What now?” Levy asked.

She surveyed the interior, trying to make sense of what Mellon had left. And then she saw it. Marble outlined with a thin border of gold. She stepped across. The panel measured about eighteen inches square. Atop its face was carved a Roman numeral.

XVI.

“Not exactly X marks the spot,” she said. “But close enough.”

The Roman numerals had been etched into a separate piece of thin marble, maybe four inches square. So far Mellon had kept things simple and direct. No reason to doubt he’d stopped now.

She tested the Maglite in her right hand. Sturdy. More than capable. So she reversed the flashlight in her grip, then slammed its weighted butt into the numerals.

The stone easily shattered.

Just as she suspected.

She cleared away the remaining bits and pieces and saw a gold lock.

“You know it fits,” Levy said.

She inserted the key and turned, revealing that the panel was actually a door.

Their combined lights exposed a compartment about two feet deep. A stack of brown and brittle parchments lay inside, a few rolled and bound by leather straps. Other sheets were lighter in color. Vellum, she assumed, stacked loosely about six inches high thanks to bulky waves and curves. She aimed the light while Levy carefully removed them.

“They’re promissory notes,” he said.

She watched as he studied a couple.

“Incredible. These are from the Second Continental Congress. This one acknowledges a loan made to the colonies by Haym Salomon. It specifies the amount, an interest rate, and due date. 1790.” He stared up at her. “It’s like Mellon said in the note from the painting. Here’s proof of the debt.”

“Are they all similar?”

He carefully examined the fragile documents. “Some are from the Continental Congress, others from the Congress of the Confederation, which was what the Continental Congress became in 1781, when the Articles of Confederation were approved. But, yes, these are the promissory notes for debts owed to Haym Salomon.”

“Which today would be in the hundreds of billions of dollars.”

“That’s certainly one way to calculate it.”

She noticed the signature on some of them. Distinctive and iconic. John Hancock. Then she recalled. He’d served as president of the Continental Congress.

Another envelope and some paper remained inside the compartment. She carefully removed both. The envelope was identical in size and condition to the one from the museum, its flap open, only a single folded sheet inside. Beneath the envelope were two sheets of browned paper, the type upon them still readable.

And significant.

Department of State

_______

Office of the Solicitor

_____________

Memorandum

February 13, 1913

Ratification of the 16th Amendment to the

Constitution of the United States

The Secretary of State has referred to the Solicitor’s Office for determination the question whether the notices of ratifications by the several states of the proposed 16th Amendment to the Constitution are in proper form, and if they are found to be in proper form, it is requested that this office prepare the necessary announcement to be made by the Secretary of State under Section 205 of the Revised Statutes. The 61st Congress of the United States, at the first session thereof, passed the resolution which was deposited in the Department of State July 31, 1909. It called for an amendment to the Constitution of the United States, which, when ratified by the legislatures of three-fourths of the several States, shall be valid to all intents and purposes:

The Congress shall have power to lay and collect taxes on incomes, from whatever source derived, without apportionment among the several States, and without regard to any census or enumeration.

The Secretary of State has received information from 46 states with reference to the action taken by the legislatures on the resolution of Congress proposing the 16th amendment to the Constitution. The two remaining states (Florida and Pennsylvania) never considered the issue. It appears from this information that of the 46 states that did consider the amendment 4 states (Connecticut, Virginia, Rhode Island, and Utah) have rejected it. The remaining 42 states have taken action purporting to approve. The question is whether a sufficient number of those approvals support ratification.

A breakdown of the 42 states shows: The resolutions passed by 22 contain errors of capitalization or punctuation, or both; those of 11 states contain errors in the wording, some of them substantial; 3 states (Kentucky, Tennessee, and Wyoming), though indicating that they have ratified, have fundamental legal problems associated with their actions, enough to warrant a conclusion that they did not ratify; and 7 states (Delaware, Minnesota, Nevada, New Hampshire, South Dakota, Texas, and Vermont) have enough missing or incomplete information relative to their ratification to warrant a careful study as to whether ratification even occurred.

Thirty-six states are required for ratification. If there be significant legal and constitutional issues with more than 6 of the 42 states that supposedly approved, then ratification is in doubt. It is my opinion that there are significant issues regarding ratification in at least 10 states. One in particular, Kentucky, is illustrative. My investigation reveals that the State Senate there rejected the amendment by a vote of 22-9. I have learned that Secretary of State Knox personally examined the official journals from the Kentucky Senate which, from my subsequent examination, reveal that the state senate clearly rejected the amendment. Yet, inexplicably, the Secretary of State has certified Kentucky as a ratified state.

Let me say that, under the Constitution, a state legislature is not authorized to alter in any way an amendment proposed by Congress, the function of the state consisting merely in the right to approve or disapprove the proposed amendment. Thirty-three of the 42 states that considered the amendment altered it (some in minor ways, others more substantial). Ten states have serious legal issues associated with their ratification votes. If called today to pronounce judgment, it would be my opinion that the amendment has not been properly ratified. It is recommended that the Secretary of State’s declaration announcing the adoption of the 16th Amendment to the Constitution be delayed until such time as a full and thorough investigation can be made. Given the importance of the amendment in question this seems the only prudent and reasonable course. This office stands ready to assist in any way deemed necessary.

She looked at Joe Levy.

They’d both read the memorandum.

“It’s true,” he said. “It’s all true. They rammed it through. For whatever stupid reason, Philander Knox let it go into effect.”

“This is the first memorandum referred to in the one Larks copied from your archives. That one was dated February 24, 1913. I remember that the solicitor noted he’d sent a previous opinion, eleven days earlier, that had been ignored. This is it.”

The proverbial smoking gun.

She also recalled what Howell had written about why Knox would have done that. “He probably saw the amendment as essential. After all, the Republicans had proposed it. And the last thing the Republicans would have wanted was to void it on technicalities. They were going out of power. Woodrow Wilson and the Democrats were coming in. I doubt any of them really considered the income tax much of a problem. It only applied to a tiny portion of the country—who’d find ways to avoid it anyway. Nobody then dreamed what that tax would become.”

The look on the secretary of Treasury’s face mimicked what she was thinking. What were they going to do now? Before making any decision, she decided they should examine Mellon’s final message.

She opened the envelope and removed the single sheet.

Levy held the light and they read together.

Your quest is over and you now know both secrets. In 1921 Philander Knox told me of the issues associated with the 1913 ratification of the 16th Amendment. My old friend chose to ignore those illegalities. He thought he was doing his party and his country a great service. Maybe so, but he overestimated his importance. I managed to convince him not to reveal what he knew. Then I ensured that the secret would remain safe forever. I dispatched agents around the country to remove all relevant documents from various state records, thereby rendering it impossible to prove anything about ratification. Those ten states that worried the Solicitor General are no worry at all. So you see, Mr. President, I made your decision on this point easy. And if I had not, what would you have done? Void the amendment? Refund every tax dollar illegally collected since 1913? We both know you would have concealed the information, protecting America, just as I did. So you see, we are more alike than you ever thought. My only regret was that I could not protect the country from you.

“What would Roosevelt have done?” she asked.

“Exactly what Mellon said. Nothing. Remember, Roosevelt was the one who expanded the tax to a broader base and started withholding from people’s paychecks. He needed that revenue.”

“Why not just re-pass the amendment?”

“How could he? That would have been an admission that all of the collections from 1913 forward were improper. Think of the lawsuits.”

And she recalled what Howell had referenced in his book. What Mellon said to his friend David Finley.
In the end he’ll find what I left for him. He’ll not be able to help himself from looking, and all will be right. The secrets will be safe and my point will have been made. For no matter how much he hates and disagrees with me, he still will have done precisely what I asked.

And his final declaration.

I’m a patriot, David. Never forget that.

“Mellon made sure that the 16th Amendment would not become a problem,” she said. “He tormented Roosevelt, knowing there was no danger.”

But she realized that he probably also used what he knew to maintain a hold on the Treasury Department through three presidents.

“Unfortunately, that danger still exists,” Levy said. “There’s enough here to raise a lot of legal questions. The 1930s were a different time, with different rules. You could actually keep a secret then. There’s no way we can survive this debate today. This would be a political nightmare.”

And she remembered what the Eleventh Circuit had wanted in Howell’s appeal.
An exceptionally strong showing of unconstitutional ratification
. This may not be enough, but Levy was right. It could certainly start the ball rolling.

“We’re standing here in the dark,” he said, “and that’s the way it should remain. This can’t see the light of day.”

He was right.

But their next course of action raised many ethical questions, ones she’d always prided herself on being able to answer.

Now she wasn’t so sure.

He seemed to sense her hesitancy .

“It’s just you and me on this one,” he said to her.

That it was.

She led the way outside, carrying the solicitor’s memo. Levy toted the Salomon documents. Everything around them was dark and quiet. From her pocket she found a lighter, which she’d brought along just in case. She flicked the flame to life and set fire to the memo. Levy offered up the old vellum, which instantly disintegrated.

They stood silent and watched it all burn.

The ashes scattered into the night.

SIXTY-EIGHT

C
OPENHAGEN
, D
ENMARK

W
EDNESDAY
, N
OVEMBER
12

6:10
P
.
M
.

Isabella was impressed with Cotton Malone’s bookshop. Everything was organized, the shelves clean and orderly, a definite Old World feel. Books had never been much of an interest for her, but they clearly fascinated Malone.

“You own this place?” she asked.

“All mine.”

Darkness had arrived outside, the lit square beyond the plate-glass windows—called, she was told, Højbro Plads—crowded with a rush of people. Malone had obviously chosen a great location for his business. Luke had provided her the quick bio on Malone’s early retirement and his move to Denmark. There was an ex-wife, a son, and a girlfriend. Cassiopeia Vitt. But that relationship had ended a month ago.