David Liss - The Whiskey Rebel

Dalton now lay upon Mueller, his knee pressed across the carpenter’s chest, his thick left arm keeping Mueller’s own arms pinned. It was a matter of balance, the result of the momentum of Dalton ’s leap, and it could not have been more than a second or two before Mueller forced Dalton off and changed the balance of momentum. The Irishman’s face grimaced with determination and understanding. He bit his lip like a concentrating child as he examined the field of battle and quickly, in an instant too fleeting to be called thought, saw his opportunities and formulated his strategy.

He raised up his right hand, his thumb stuck out like a man beginning an ostentatious count. It hung still, no more than an instant, but I saw that hand like an icon, like a standard, glowing orange in the light of half a dozen fires, and then it plummeted downward, with the fury of a hawk seeking its prey. Mueller let out a piercing cry of surprise, which changed in an instant to a howl of pain. I felt myself tremble with fear and pity and disgust. Mr. Dalton then stood. His face and shirt were covered with blood, which also dripped copiously from his hand as though he had cut open his own flesh. Mueller lay upon the dirt, curled up so I could not see his face, but he emitted a horrible, chilling noise, a lamentation for his life as it had been, as dark blood pooled about his head.

Mr. Skye tsk ed like an irritated upper servant. “You can’t call the man inefficient.” He looked at Andrew. “ Dalton ’s a good friend to have.”

Andrew nodded, too numb from horror and surprise to say much. “It’s well he seems to like me,” he managed, though he spoke hardly louder than a whisper.

“He likes you both,” said Mr. Skye, “and he don’t take to strangers that often.” He glanced back at Mueller’s pathetic form. “I guess that’s the lesson, though. You can’t be friends with everyone, not out here. You make your friends, but you make your enemies as well.”

Having given Hamilton enough time to work whatever magic he intended to work, I returned to my rooms at Mrs. Deisher’s house that afternoon, where I found that stout German lady ready and willing to receive me. Once her girl opened the door, the landlady herself forced her massive bosoms past the servant and thrust them toward me.

“Mr. Saunders,” she said, “I your pardon beg. I mean to say Captain Saunders. I trouble myself for the misunderstanding, but the man from the government has everything made clear. Are you hungry? May I make for you something to eat?”

“Be easy on the matter of food,” I said. “I am, however, much in need of a wash and a change of clothes, not having had access to fresh linens in well over a day.”

She colored. “I must beg again your pardon, Captain. Now I shall send my Charlotte to bring for you the waters.”

I smiled benevolently at her, for now we were good friends. All was easy between us, and we had nothing but love in our hearts. “Oh, and one more thing, Mrs. Deisher. Before I send you away, please be so good as to mention why, precisely, you chose that night to cast me out.”

She cringed a bit at this. “It was just a notion, a terrible foolish notion. You must forgive.”

I continued to smile, but my voice was icy. “I shall forgive you when you tell me the truth.”

“Oh, I would never lie,” she said, to her shoes.

“Madam, you have seen how friendly I am with the government. If you do not tell me what I ask, I shall have you arrested for a foreign spy-let’s say French, since the notion of a German spy is absurd-and you will be cast out of the country forever. Perhaps, as reward, I shall be given your property for my own. Leonidas! Take a letter for me. Dear Secretary Hamilton: It is with grave concern that I must report to you the presence- ”

“Enough!” she called. “I will tell you, only you must not say I did. He promised to hurt me if I did not remain quiet.”

“I shall protect you with my life,” I said, “if you but tell me.”

“It was a very uncivilized-looking man,” she said, “with a gray beard and long hair. He gave his name as Reynolds. He paid me twenty-five dollars and said he would burn down my house if I did not do as he says.”

“Did he say who he was or why he wished me gone?”

She shook her head. “No, but I believed him. He seemed to me like the sort of man who might a house burn.”

I nodded. “Be so kind as to give me the twenty-five dollars. I think I’ve earned it.”

“I have already spent it,” she said.

“Then give me a different twenty-five dollars.”

“I have not got it.”

“Perhaps she could apply it to what you owe,” suggested Leonidas.

It was not as good as having twenty-five dollars in my pocket, but it would have to do. I turned to Mrs. Deisher. “I accept those terms. Now, let’s not forget about my bath.”

She stood and shook her head. “It don’t make sense.”

“What is that?”

“He say, this Reynolds, that he throw you out behalf of Secretary Hamilton, but he must lie, for it is Secretary Hamilton that make me take you in.”

I felt something, like a dog catching a familiar scent in the air. Leonidas turned quickly, but I caught his eye and gave him a most subtle shake of the head. Long ago I learned that when someone inadvertently stumbles upon something important, you do not draw attention to it. “How interesting,” I said, in order to say something. “Now to the bath.” There could be no further progress without washing off the accumulated filth of my trials.

At last I was able to remove the grime and humiliation of the past two nights. The warm water was a balm, the clean clothes as good as a full night’s sleep. Once I had cleaned myself and had Leonidas shave me, I felt free to examine my reflection in the mirror that hung over my fireplace. In truth, I was not entirely displeased. My face was a bit contused. There were bruises and a few wounds, which were healing far more slowly than they had in my youth, but in my newly scrubbed state, these now bespoke manly combat and not impoverished desperation.

Able to enjoy the calm of my room, I sat in a well-padded chair near the window in the fading afternoon light. Across from me, Leonidas put away the shaving things. Once finished, he took one of the chairs and gave me a meaningful look. “Perhaps,” he said, “it is time to consider your next move. Do you truly wish to squander your time attempting to find Mr. Pearson?”

“Of course I intend to find him.”

He leaned forward in his serious way. “Ethan, you should think about this. You have little money right now, and I understand that you care for Mrs. Pearson, but caring does not mean you must sacrifice yourself to her memory. If Mr. Lavien does not wish your help, perhaps the matter is in hand.”

“To begin with, I would never turn my back on an old commitment.”

“I am not convinced of that,” he said, with much bitterness. “I’ve seen it happen.”

I was not about to get dragged into another conversation about his emancipation. “On top of that, I have been personally injured. Men have sought to intimidate and harm me, to have me cast from my home. I cannot simply turn my back. And what is most amazing to me is Hamilton. All these years I believed it was he who chose to ruin my reputation by putting it about that I had committed treason, and I hated him for it. Now, it seems, I was mistaken. Hamilton turns out to be a fairly decent fellow, and he went so far as to say that he values my skills.”

“What of it?”

“Don’t you see? If I can find Pearson first, if I can beat Lavien at his own game, Hamilton will bring me back into government service. I will be of use again, Leonidas. I cannot let something like that slip between my fingers.”