David Liss - The Whiskey Rebel

These men had changed the world once before. They had fought in the most important revolution in human history and redrawn the boundaries of government power for all time. Who was to say they could not do as much again?

Jericho Richmond set down his glass. “The two of you are under her spell. If this woman tells you to ride your horse off a cliff, will you do it?”

“Mr. Richmond, what have I done that you would speak to me so?” I demanded. “I thought we were friends.”

“We are,” he answered, “but I will not throw myself into the maw of your madness for no better reason than revenge.”

I poured myself a fresh mug of whiskey. “No, I suppose not. But will you throw yourself into the maw of my madness if doing so would make you very wealthy?”

I now had his attention. “Perhaps. If you convince me your plan might work.”

I began to speak, explaining to them the plan I had constructed, its dangers and nuances, and how it should leave us avenged, the country righted, and our efforts rewarded with great wealth. I spoke at length, at first fearing I’d said too much and not parsed out the information slowly or gently enough, but questions soon began to arise, from both Dalton and Skye and then even from Jericho. I made certain the whiskey continued to pour. By the end of the evening, my scheme had turned from an idea to a rebellion.

Iwas now torn between my two goals, for if I was to discover the truth behind these threats against Mrs. Pearson, I would have to go to New York and learn more about Duer’s scheme and how the upcoming launch of the Million Bank related to these threats against Hamilton ’s bank. Yet, how could I leave Philadelphia when Cynthia was under siege from her own husband?

It was Lavien who helped to resolve this dilemma. A few days after the dinner at the Pearson house, he summoned me a little after noon to Clark’s Inn on Chestnut, across from the Statehouse, at the sign of the Coach and Horses. I was pleased with the invitation, for I was hungry, and Clark ’s is always an inviting place to dine for the entertaining way in which they prepare their meat. It turns on a great spit over a hot fire, and the turning is done by a pair of yellow dogs who run steadily in a large wheel, like overgrown squirrels.

Leonidas and I arrived before Lavien, for I saw no sign of him, but we were in time for the dogs’ final exertions, so soon there was hot beef, boiled potatoes, and freshly baked rolls to enjoy. Clark ’s had no whiskey, so I settled for rum, and Leonidas led us to a table that offered us a good view of the door. Lavien arrived in a quarter hour, accompanied by an aging man, perhaps near sixty, wearing a once-fine brown suit that was now, in places, faded and spotted. He had a very erect posture and strode in slow, deliberate steps, affecting, I thought, a kind of gentility that perhaps did not come naturally.

Leonidas and I were near done with our fine repast, well roasted by the Labradors, and we rose to meet the men.

“Ah,” said Lavien. “I’m sorry to keep you, but I’m glad you are here. I want you to meet this man. Albert Turner, may I present Captain Saunders and his associate, Leonidas.”

Turner bowed very deeply. “Yes, very good,” he said. “Captain Saunders, yes. Of course, sir. Your name is well known to me.”

Rarely could that be desirable. I bowed, and we all sat. Lavien called for drinks.

“I am always pleased to make a new acquaintance,” I said, though it was a wretched lie. I could not have desired less to meet this man. “Yet I suspect there is some particular reason I have been summoned. Something out of the way of ordinary sociability.”

“Mr. Turner lived in Philadelphia during much of the war,” said Lavien. “Indeed, he was not always the greatest friend of the United States, for he served the British cause.”

Turner smiled sheepishly once more, this time opening his mouth, and showing me that the better portion of his teeth were but a memory. “Many people did, you know, and had things gone otherwise we’d have been heroes. Merely the chance of history. You cannot blame a man for taking up the cause of his native land.”

“All in the past,” said Lavien, careful to affect an air of easy civility. “The war is over, and we have no interest in punishing one set of men because their consciences dictated a course of action different from another set.”

“Exactly so,” said Turner. The tankards of beer had now arrived, and he drank quickly and deeply, as if afraid he might soon be asked to leave and wished to take as much drink as he could first. The end result was a rather large spill on his coat, which he brushed at with evident embarrassment. “These questions of loyalty and allegiance during the war are but matters of curiosity now, though they were of the greatest import then.”

I believed I now understood what this was about. It concerned Fleet. I stood up. “I told you, Lavien, that I didn’t want you looking into this.”

“Yes,” said Lavien, “but I didn’t listen. I see in you an asset to this government and to Hamilton, but as long as your name lies in shadow, the government cannot make use of you. It is my duty to ignore your wishes.”

I would not dignify his flattery with a response. “Come, Leonidas.”

Lavien stood. “Sit down, Captain Saunders. You do wish to hear this.”

I did not like to be ordered around, but I knew from how he spoke that regret would eat away at me if I did not listen. I had no choice, really. I sat down.

“Mr. Turner,” said Lavien, “is the British agent to whom you and Fleet were alleged to sell messages. It was his correspondence that was found in your things. He, of course, fled once he received word that you had been apprehended and only returned to Philadelphia after the war.”

I stared at him and then turned to Lavien. “He can say nothing I want to hear.”

“You believe that,” said Lavien, “because you believe he will condemn Fleet, but it is not the case.”

I felt myself biting the inside of my cheek, but I said nothing.

“Very right,” said Turner. “I never had anything to do with you or Major Fleet. Yours were the names I was directed to use by my contact. I did not know why, nor did I care. It sounds rather unkind, I know, but it was war, and we did not trouble ourselves with such things. You were no better than I, I am sure, for it is easy to overlook the harm to innocents when you cannot see or know them.”

It was true enough. “Go on.”

“I was authorized to buy secrets from various contacts, and one of them insisted that I contact him using your names instead of my own. It was these letters that Mr. Lavien informs me were found in your things, though I cannot say how they made their way there. When I heard of your capture, I did not think of it, for I presumed that my contact was but the middleman, though I was surprised to learn that you and Major Fleet were real men. I always presumed they were noms de guerre.”

“You are saying that our betrayal was planned?” I asked. “For how long did you use these names before we were accused?”

“Oh, six months at least. Maybe nine. Then we were betrayed, each in our own way.”

Lavien leaned forward and then back. This was as much enthusiasm as he ever demonstrated. “For the betrayal to have happened in such a manner, it would have had to have been done by your contact. Who else could have known enough to ruin all involved?”

I did not like it that Lavien had proceeded without my permission, but I could not deny my excitement. This conspiracy had been the great mystery of my life, its principal turning point. It seemed that now I was to learn the truth behind it, and the truth would not condemn Fleet. “Did you know his name?” I asked, keeping my voice steady.