John Miller - The First Assassin

“Hello,” he said, somehow making the greeting sound more like a question.

“Good afternoon, Langston,” said Grenier. “It has been an exceedingly long journey. Are you going to invite me in?”

He did, and they settled into chairs in Bennett’s office.

“This is certainly a surprise, Violet,” said Bennett. “I anticipated a letter, not a visit. It has been quite some time since you wrote. I feared that something had happened.”

“You wouldn’t believe how much has happened-everything and nothing, all at once.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mazorca is dead.” She handed him a Brady’s reproduction of the photograph. Bennett stared at it and sighed.

Grenier told her story: Mazorca’s arrival, his pursuit, and his disappearance. She neglected to say that she had been arrested or that she had escaped during the tumult on April 26-she simply said that life in Washington had become too difficult for someone of her views. Bennett did not probe her on this point.

“How do you know Mazorca is dead?” he asked.

“I suspect strongly that Rook and his men killed him and then covered it up. The entire episode has been kept out of the papers. It’s just rumors, really-about a lunatic who was shot in the Capitol and then given a pauper’s burial. Nothing is confirmed, but it hardly matters. The bottom line is that Lincoln is still alive.”

“How unfortunate,” said Bennett. “It is such a shame to have failed.”

Grenier narrowed her eyes and put her hand on Bennett’s knee-the one above the false leg. “Mazorca failed,” she said. “We have not.”

Bennett looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”

She smiled wickedly. “The war is young.”