The Titanic Plan (44 page)

“
Young newlyweds can barely afford tenements, much less houses like this.”

“
Mick found it. He had a way with such things. He always found a way. But I think you know that.”

“
I’m not sure I know the full extent of Mick’s ways.”

“
Would you like some tea?” Mrs. Shaughnessy said, changing the subject. “I have a pot on the stove.”

“
That would be lovely.”

“
Do take a chair, then. I’ll be back in a moment.”

Archie glanced around the room. It was cozy, with large, overstuffed chairs and a well worn sofa that was situated in front of a stone fireplace. A framed picture above the fireplace caught his eye. It was a family portrait: Mick, his wife and daughter. While the pose was formal – husband and wife sitting at a slight angle next to each other with their young daughter standing between them – their manner was anything but. Mick had struck his familiar impertinent pose, but rather than searing a look into the camera, his eyes glimmered with a happy light. Mrs. Shaughnessy appeared as if she was about to burst into laughter any moment and their young daughter’s grin beamed out of the photograph.

“
Sugar?” Mrs. Shaughnessy said. Archie was so caught up in the picture he didn’t notice that she had returned and was already pouring the tea.

“
Yes, thank you,” Archie said, taking a seat.

Mrs. Shaughnessy handed him the cup and sat across from him. She was cool and aloof, the exact opposite of the passionate, desperate woman who came to his hotel room. “So, Captain Butt, what would you like to know?”

“
You came to me over a year ago, Mrs. Shaughnessy, and implored me to find the truth of your husband’s death.”

“
That I did, Captain.”

“
Oh, by the way, I have been promoted to Major. I am now ‘Major Butt’.”

“
Congratulations,” she said without enthusiasm. “So…Major…you were saying…?”

“
I still believe your husband was murdered, Mrs. Shaughnessy. I wanted to find the reason for it. I believed you wanted the same thing. But then you disappeared.”

Mrs. Shaughnessy ran her fingers through her long hair and looked away from Archie as she spoke. “Mick was a very complex man. I came to the realization that perhaps it was not the healthiest thing in the world for me to dig into my husband’s affairs and discover all that he was involved with. He lives in my memory as the man I loved. I prefer he stays as that.”

“
That’s all well and good, but if Mick was murdered for something he knew, then it is our obligation to uncover what that was and who had him killed.”

“
Maybe it’s
your
obligation, Captain, but it is no longer mine.”

“
But don’t you understand…”

“
Don’t
you
understand,” Mrs. Shaughnessy cut Archie off. “Mick got himself killed because he stuck his nose in places he shouldn’t have. He had one too many affairs with one too many married women. He double-crossed one too many powerful men. He discovered one too many secrets. He let one too many people down. Mick couldn’t help himself in that respect. And
that’s
what led to his death. Someone else may have murdered him, but Mick Shaughnessy was responsible for it all.”

“
No one is responsible for their own murder, Mrs. Shaughnessy.”

“
You’re wrong. Mick was. He charmed all of us – men, women, politicians, revolutionaries, businessmen, me, you – but he ultimately let us down because when it was time for him to stand up and be there for us, he raced off to wage his next battle. He was never satisfied. First he had you, his best friend, to save. Then he had a revolution to wage, then a wife and daughter to look after, then he wanted to save the poor, then serve his country, then build bridges to the rich, then…oh, God knows what he wanted, because Mick Shaughnessy had no idea. He was a soldier always looking for the next righteous war to fight because he was never at peace with himself. And he knew that he would one day meet his death as a soldier. I think he not only knew, he desired it.”

“
I find that hard to believe.”

“
You know, Mick had a grand romantic streak in him. He once told me that when he was growing up, his big lout of a father would be beating his poor mother to a pulp in the kitchen and Mick would be in his bed reading adventure stories and plotting how he could save her. One month he was D’Artagnan, the next, Robin Hood, and then Sydney Carton. And that’s how he lived his life, that’s what he believed: that it was his fate to save not only his mother, but all of us. And we gladly played the roles so he could fulfill his destiny. I was the wife who was supposed to stand by him despite his affairs because he had a true and noble heart. You were his commanding officer who was supposed to admire him because he was brave, even though he was insufferably insubordinate. And then there were the teeming masses who were to love him because he fought their battles, even though he would ultimately abandon them just as he abandoned all of us.”

“
And you’re angry at him for this, Mrs. Shaughnessy?”

“
I try not to be,” she said, calming herself. “I understand Mick believed in his dreams. And because it was so exhilarating, because
he
was so exhilarating, we were all taken in. And he did do good. He saved your life in the Philippines. He provided for his daughter and me. And he helped those poor people who so desperately needed help. So however much I hated him for the lies he told me and the fantasy world he created for himself, I also loved him for everything that he was and the joy he brought to my life.”

“
Yes, I did too, Mrs. Shaughnessy. I loved him very much.”

“
Of course you did…we all did.” They lingered in the warm, shared moment then Mrs. Shaughnessy quickly stood up. “Thank you for your concern, Major. That’s all I can help you with.” She extended her hand, letting Archie know it was time for him to leave.

“
Thank you, Mrs. Shaughnessy, for your honesty and candor,” he said, rising from the chair. She nodded and began leading him to the door. “One thing I’m still not clear about though. Mick hasn’t been here to arrange things for almost two years. How can you still afford this house?”

Mrs. Shaughnessy stopped and slit her eyes at Archie. “I’ve said enough as it is. I’d appreciate you honor my desire to leave this all behind.”

“
With all due respect, Mrs. Shaughnessy, while you’ve revealed much to me, I do not believe you’ve been completely candid.”

Her eyes explored Archie’s earnest face. Perhaps she had underestimated him. “Alright, Captain, I’ll answer your question,” she said with her soft Irish lilt. “I have no idea how it all works. Mick arranged everything. Even from the grave he seems to have taken care of all our family matters.”

“
How so?”

“
I get money. Enough for me and my daughter to live comfortably.”

“
Who from?”

She shrugged. “No idea. $200 arrives in my mail every month. It’s like a gift from heaven. Mick’s little gift to keep his family alive.”

“
Who signs the check?”

“
No check. Cash. In an envelope that has no return address.”

“
And you’re never curious who is sending it?”

“
I’m always curious. I tried to find out once. I did a little probing, asked a few questions here and there. Then I got a note warning me that if I wished to continue receiving the money, I should leave well enough alone.”

“
Do you have any of the envelopes, Mrs. Shaughnessy?”

“
No.”

“
The note?”

Mrs. Shaughnessy hesitated just long enough. “I’d like to see that note,” Archie quickly jumped in.

“
It’s just a short message,” Mrs. Shaughnessy uttered tentatively. “And I told you exactly what it says.”

“
You are not breaking any trust by allowing me to see it. I will do nothing to jeopardize your payment. I promise,” Archie said in the most assuring voice he could muster. Mrs. Shaughnessy hesitated before realizing that Archie wouldn’t leave until he saw the note. She crossed the room to a side table and opened the top drawer, removing a small, neatly folded bit of stationary and handed it to Archie. He unfolded it and read: “
Dear Mrs. Shaughnessy, If you wish to continue receiving these payments, please honor your husband’s wishes that they be sent anonymously
.”

“
You see,” Mrs. Shaughnessy said. “There is no clue there, just a little message that I intend to respect.”

“
Just a little message,” Archie repeated. Mrs. Shaughnessy was wrong though, there was a clue: the short sentence was written in a tight, precise hand that Archie had seen before and recognized immediately: Finch.

“
Thank you, Mrs. Shaughnessy,” Archie said, handing the letter back to her. “I’ll leave you now, as that’s what you want.”

“
Yes, that is what I want. And please, don’t come back. It’s best for my daughter and me. Please. Stay away.”

Archie gave a quick nod, committing to nothing, then headed out the door. Crossing the street, he noticed his car’s side door hanging open and the driver’s seat empty. “Henry?” Archie said, rushing to the car. “Henry!” Archie called louder, not seeing him anywhere. “Henry!!” Archie called one more time, looking down the quiet street for any sign of the boy. There was none.

CHAPTER 48

O
n the night of February 20, 1912, Theodore Roosevelt delivered a speech to a state constitutional convention at Columbus, Ohio. It was a controversial speech on a controversial subject: the recall of judges. Unlike Taft, who had been a judge for a number of years before his political career, Roosevelt had a less than stellar opinion of the judiciary. He had seen progressive legislation he championed, such as child labor laws, health and safety legislation, and regulation to curb corporate abuse, overturned by judges who declared those laws unconstitutional because they infringed on individual and corporate liberty.

That evening, Roosevelt gave an impassioned address that attacked Taft’s positions. The atmosphere at the convention hall was electric. Roosevelt received a thunderous ovation after he finished. When he started away from the podium, a reporter shouted at him, “Are you a candidate for President?” Off the cuff, an emboldened Roosevelt shouted back a response that had its origins in barroom boxing challenges: “My hat is in the ring!”

The next afternoon, February 21, Archie was summoned to the Oval Office. Taft wanted to take a walk even though the weather was wet and nasty. The two men started strolling around the White House when the President, nervous and agitated, led Archie off the grounds. Taft picked up the pace, walking through the nearby streets in brooding silence until he erupted in a bitter diatribe against Roosevelt and his speech the previous evening. Taft was furious at Roosevelt for not only announcing that he would oppose him for the Republican nomination, but entering the race in Ohio, Taft’s home state. “I have a strong feeling that the Colonel is going to beat me in the Convention,” Taft stated with certainty.

“
I don’t think so,” Archie said, trying to cheer his boss up. “I think that whatever esteem people hold for Roosevelt, they know his time has passed.”

“
I just believe that Theodore has gone too far,” Taft grumbled. “He has leaped far ahead of the most radical leaders. He will either be a hopeless failure if elected or destroy his own reputation.”

Archie became more distraught than ever by the whole situation. He loved both men. It was his duty not to abandon his Commander-In-Chief in this time of need. But neither did he want to alienate Roosevelt, the man he felt tremendously close to and who was probably more capable of leading the country out of its morass.

The next day, worn and still conflicted, Archie purchased his ticket on the S.S.
Berlin
to sail to Naples, though second thoughts were already creeping in. He sent a letter to his sister-in-law expressing his dilemma. “I lay awake a long time last night, trying to make up my mind as to what my duty was in regard to this trip to Italy. I really can’t bear to leave the President just now.”