The Killing Season (42 page)

“You'll be getting there well before the fifteenth,” said Bess.

“I aim to,” Nathan replied. “If I know Byron Silver, he's already there, and since he's expecting me to dance, I'm goin' to learn as much about the fiddlers as I can.”

Barnabas drove Nathan and Empty into New Orleans, to the steamboat landing.

“Good luck,” Barnabas said, offering his hand. “If you need us, we'll be here.”

“I know you will,” said Nathan, shaking his hand, “and I'm obliged.”

Barnabas drove away. When the steamboat pulled into the landing, there was a blast from the whistle, and Empty jumped like he had been shot.

Nathan laughed. “You'd better get used to that, pardner. There'll be three days aboard this one, and Saint Louis will be full of them.”

One of the ship's officers was greeting passengers as they went aboard, and as Nathan approached, he held up his hand.

“I'm not sure dogs are allowed aboard,” he said. “In any case, he'll have to ride on a lower deck, with the freight.”

“Freight, hell,” said Nathan. “I paid for first-class passage, and where I go, he goes.”

“By whose authority?”

Nathan took from his pocket the watch Byron Silver had presented to him. Opening the cover, he displayed the great seal of the United States under which was inscribed the office of the attorney general.

“Is that enough authority?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” the ship's officer said.

Nathan decided he would resolve the only other problem he could foresee during the time they would be aboard The
St
.
Louis.
He sought out the captain, Travis Guthrie.

“We'll be traveling with you to Saint Louis,” said Nathan, “and when I take my meals, I want to have my dog fed. I'll pay extra, if need be.”

“That won't be necessary,” the captain said. “I'll speak to the cooks, and if you will go to the dining room half an hour early, both of you will be served.”

Nathan proceeded to his assigned cabin, Empty at his heels. When the steamboat departed with a blast of its whistle, the dog didn't flinch.

Nathan had been to St. Louis often enough to know his way around, and after three days aboard the steamboat, he felt like walking. With Empty beside him, they set out for the Pioneer Hotel, five blocks away. Reaching the hotel, Nathan approached the desk. The clerk looked at the register after Nathan had signed, and presented him with a key.

“The first room at the head of the stairs. Charges have been guaranteed for as long as you remain with us.”

The hotel had three floors, and Nathan's room was twenty-one. He wondered if that had been intentional on Silver's part, since twenty-one was his code with the government. Nathan unlocked the door and found the room more elegant than anything he would have taken for himself. Instead of a single chair, there was a fancy couch, and beside the bed, a bell cord, which would summon a bell boy. The broad dresser had brass drawer pulls and a wide mirror, which wasn't cracked. That alone was a novelty on the frontier. The bed was larger than most, with a fancy maroon nd gold spread. There were maroon drapes at the window and plush gold carpet on the floor. On the dresser was an elaborate menu for the restaurant downstairs.

“Fancy diggings for a wandering gun-thrower,” Nathan said aloud. “The government don't cut any corners.”

Come suppertime, Nathan took one look at the Pioneer's fancy dining room and went in search of one of the little cafes in which Cotton Blossom had always been welcome. He found one, and since it was still early, it wasn't crowded.

“Pardner,” said Nathan, “me and my dog's hungry. He's a payin' customer if he's welcome.”

“He's welcome,” the cook said. “He can't be any more uncivilized than some of the two-legged varmints that drifts in here.”

After supper, Nathan and Empty returned to the Pioneer. Nathan removed his boots, hat, and gun belt and stretched out on the bed. He had been tempted to inquire at the desk about Silver, but changed his mind, for he had no idea what kind of security was involved. Nathan was dozing when Empty growled low in his throat. There was a light knock on the door.

“Identify yourself,” Nathan said.

“Twenty-one,” came the reply.

Nathan unlocked the door, locking it immediately after Byron Silver had entered. The two shook hands.

“How did you know I was at the McQueens' place?” Nathan asked.

“It took me two telegrams to track you down,” said Silver. “I wired Hagerman in Dodge, and learned you had quit the railroad. After that, I played a hunch and telegraphed Captain Ferguson, at Fort Worth. By God, that dog looks enough like old Cotton Blossom to be his son.”

Nathan laughed. “That's exactly who he is. I have one of McQueen's dogs to thank. He answers to Empty, and he owes that to Bess McQueen.”

“I reckon you're chomping at the bit to know why I asked you here,” said Silver,

“To some degree,” Nathan said, “but I was more interested in why you specified April fifteenth.”

“Because that's the day B.H. Bristow, U.S. Secretary of the Treasury, will be here. I have told him about you, and he insists on meeting you.”

“I'll meet him,” said Nathan, “but for what purpose? Is he just being neighborly?”

“He has need of a man with your particular talents, and I recommended you highly.”

“Thanks,” Nathan said dryly. “Who's going to be shooting at me besides those who already want me dead?”

“I'm not exactly sure,” said Silver. “You'll have to talk to Bristow. But I'm fair to middlin' sure you'll be allowed to shoot back.”

“That's another question,” Nathan said. “Why are you breaking trail for the treasury? From what I've heard, from what I've read, they have agents of their own.”

“Of course they do,” said Silver, “but this involves a conspiracy
within
the treasury, and Bristow isn't entirely sure who he can trust.”

“I'm reminded of the Credit Mobilier scandal during President Grant's first term,” said Nathan. “Is this something similar to the Union Pacific fraud?”
¹⁸

“No,” Silver replied. “This is more complex, and could involve several hundred people in Saint Louis, Chicago, and Milwaukee. You see, following the Civil War, the government was in need of money. Liquor taxes were raised, in some cases, to eight times the price of the liquor.”

“My God,” said Nathan, “that's an almighty expensive tax.”

“I fully agree,” Silver said, “but it's the law, and the distillers have been collecting the tax. The trouble is, the largest distillers—in Saint Louis, Chicago, and Milwaukee—haven't been turning this tax over to the government. Government officials high and low have been bribed in order for these distillers to keep the collected taxes for themselves. This has been going on for a while. It's become a public scandal, in fact, but it's politically hot. The whiskey ring is considered impregnable because of its strong political connections. One of the prime suspects is President Grant's secretary, O.E. Babcock.”

“God Almighty,” said Nathan, “this thing could destroy Grant.”

“It could, and it might,” Silver replied, “but Secretary of the Treasury Bristow intends to break the conspiracy, letting the chips fall where they may. And there, my friend is where you come in.”

“Hell, Silver,” Nathan said, “the war's been over nearly ten years. How much money is at stake?”

“More than three million dollars,” said Silver.

“My God, where could that much money be hidden?”

“Renegade bankers may be concealing some of it,” Silver said, “but there's a chance of hundreds of thousands of dollars being secreted in warehouses belonging to distilleries or their agents.”

“So this U.S. Secretary of the Treasury aims to find all this money,” said Nathan, “and he thinks I can help. How?”

“By joining the ranks of the whiskey ring,” Silver said, “and there's more involved than just recovering the money. Bristow wants to collect sufficient evidence to destroy this organization. He believes he can do this only by assigning secret investigators outside the Treasury Department.”

“So I'm to be one of those investigators,” said Nathan. “I'm flattered, Silver, but by what right am I qualified?”

“You're quick with your wits, your guns, and your fists,” Silver replied, “and there is absolutely no obvious connection between you and the Department of the Treasury. There is a possibility you may be called upon to rob one of the suspected banks.”

“No, by God.”

Silver laughed. “You would in no way be operating outside the law. Several banks are believed to have double sets of books, the second containing illegal deposits belonging to a number of distilleries implicated in this conspiracy.”

“All that's going to get you is evidence of double-dealing by some bankers,” Nathan said. “So a bank has a few hundred thousand that it can't account for legally. How do you aim to prove it's whiskey taxes owed the government?”

“Damn it, I don't have all the answers,” said Silver. “I offered to help, at least with the situation here in Saint Louis, because I believed you were quick-witted enough, smooth enough, and tough enough to pull it off. I've given you some idea as to what Bristow has in mind, without knowing his reasons. Do this. Wait until you talk to Bristow, and then if he can't answer your questions to your satisfaction, then just tell him it's no deal. I made him no promises beyond asking you here for a meeting.
Comprende?”

“Yeah,” said Nathan. “I'll wait and see what Bristow has to say.”

Despite himself, Nathan was impressed with B.H. Bristow. He had gray hair, gray eyes, and a firm handshake. He wasted no time in outlining what he had in mind.

“We already have undercover agents at work in Milwaukee and Chicago, Stone, and I am especially anxious to have you in charge of our investigation here in Saint Louis. I must say that I am impressed with what Mr. Silver has told me about you. However, it is up to you as to whether you wish to become involved in this operation. I trust that Silver has introduced you to the problem and possibly some of the means by which we're hoping to resolve it?”

“He has,” Nathan replied, “and like I've told him, I'm flattered, but I'm not sure that I am qualified as an investigator. As I understand it, there are no rules. You'll be depending on me to come up with evidence against people involved in this whiskey ring, when I have no way of knowing what you consider evidence. Why don't you spell out what you're expecting me to do, and I'll consider it.”

“Very well,” Bristow said. “There are two distilleries here. One of them is operated by Woodard Slaughter and the other by Peavey Hohnmeyer. Both are involved in this tax fraud, and if we can get the goods on one of them, we can convict them both. It is Mr. Silver's belief that with our help, you can ingratiate yourself with one or both these men and work your way into their operations. From such a vantage point, you will then be in a position to secure the evidence we need.”

“Or get myself shot graveyard dead,” said Nathan.

“I won't deny that's a possibility,” Bristow said, “because Slaughter and Hohnmeyer have surrounded themselves with gunmen. But rest assured you won't be alone. While Mr. Silver is unable to join you undercover, he and a force of agents will monitor your every move.”

“If you get shot,” said Silver, “then so will I.”

Nathan laughed grimly. “That makes me feel some better.”

“Then you'll work with us?” Bristow asked.

“Yes,” said Nathan.

“Good,” Bristow replied. “Now here's how we'll get you on the good side of Slaughter and Hohnmeyer....”

Nathan listened as Bristow outlined his plan by which he believed Nathan might gain the confidence of the distillery moguls.

“Many people don't know this,” Bristow said, “but Slaughter and Hohnmeyer actually are brothers-in-law. Their wives are younger women, and they are under the protection of armed men, twenty-four hours a day. These ladies are going to be abducted, Mr. Stone, and while no harm will come to them, Slaughter and Hohnmeyer won't be aware of that. I expect them to offer substantial rewards for the return of their wives. You, Mr. Stone, are going to rescue these ladies at the risk of your life. With the cooperation of the local authorities and a contrived newspaper story, you will be credited with the killing of the abductors. That should quickly get you into the good graces of our distillers.”

“Just as quickly adding to my reputation as a fast gun,” said Nathan, “increasing my chances of being gunned down by some varmint lookin' for a name at my expense.”

“Not necessarily,” Bristow replied. “Slaughter and Hohnmeyer have some of the best lawyers money can buy, and they'll leave no stone unturned to avoid any unfavorable publicity.”

“I reckon that'll be a mite difficult, with a story in the newspaper,” said Nathan.

“Men who can buy lawyers can buy newspapermen, too,” Bristow said. “You'll just have to take my word for it that Slaughter and Hohnmeyer will keep the affair as quiet as they can.”

“There's a reason for that,” Silver added. “Let the word get out that they're being hit for reward money for the return of their women, and they'll be fair game for every thief and outlaw in Missouri.”