David Liss - The Whiskey Rebel

“And where did he go when he disappeared previously?”

“I have no knowledge of that either.”

“Do you have any immediate plans to do new business with Pearson? You need not tell me the nature of the business, only the day.”

Duer smiled. “It would be foolish to do business with a ruined man.”

I rose. “Then I shall waste no more of your time,” I said.

Leonidas met me at the coach, and together we made our dark, uneven way back to New York. It was a closed coach, but it contained a small window by which we could observe the coachman, and I noticed that he looked back at us more than once. Since beginning our journey, Leonidas and I had spoken only of trivial matters, but it seemed to me that the coachman hung upon every word.

“What did you learn?” Leonidas asked at last, clearly impatient with my silence.

I cast a quick nod toward the coachman and then said, “Oh, nothing of import. He was tight-lipped, but it hardly mattered. I always know when a man is concealing something, and he was not. And you? Did you hear anything from the servants?”

I suspected he had something he wished to tell me, but I shook my head ever so slightly. He understood my meaning and said that he had learned nothing.

When our coach arrived at Fraunces Tavern, we climbed down, but then I turned to the coachman. “What were you offered?”

“Sir?”

“By Duer’s man. He offered you money to report upon anything we said. How much?”

He shrugged, caught but unwilling to deny it. “He offered me a dollar.”

I handed him some coins from the fund Mrs. Pearson had given me. “Here’s two dollars. Report back that I said nothing, only made you stop the coach so I could vomit at the roadside.”

He nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

Leonidas and I went and warmed ourselves by the fire. “Did you learn anything of moment?” Leonidas asked me. “What are his plans? Is the scheme the short-selling of stock?”

“I don’t think so,” I said. “Duer is playing at something he thinks very clever, but I don’t think it’s selling bank stock short.”

“How can you know that?”

“Because whenever he spoke of it, his discourse became theoretical, saying a man may do this or my agent might do that. He defended what he neither admits nor denies doing. He spoke about it in the most obviously evasive manner, and so could not have been more obviously hoping I would believe the shorting of issues was his goal. He was trying to lead me down a path to one thing and, by inference, away from another.”

“From what?”

I shook my head. “I can’t be sure. Did you learn anything in the kitchens?”

“Possibly,” he said. “Some major event is afoot with the servants. Things are to be made ready for early Wednesday morning. The coaches are to be prepared and food ready for an early meal. There will be a large and early breakfast at the house. It has all been discussed and planned with the greatest urgency, yet no one knows the occasion.”

I slapped my hand upon the table. “Oh, poor Mr. Lavien. He shall be behind us now, for we know what Duer intends and when he intends it.”

“We do?”

“Do you not remember what the men in the express told us? The Million Bank launches on Wednesday. Duer plans to have his agents come to the house for one last strategy meeting and then descend upon the launch. He considers it vital that the world have no faith in the Million Bank, because, if I am correct, he means to take control of the bank on its first day. We have until Wednesday, then, to learn why. We have to find out if this is just another financial maneuver or if it is connected to dark schemes in Philadelphia.”

Leonidas looked significantly brighter. “It must be very satisfactory,” he said, “to know you have so well retained the old skills.”

“Oh, well, you know,” I said modestly, but it pleased me more than I could say that he should notice.

“But was that a clever move, paying the coachman such as you did? He might just as well report your bribery to Duer.”

“If he tells Duer what he overheard, Duer will think I know nothing and will never learn anything. He will cease to regard me seriously.”

“And if he tells Duer that you paid him to lie?”

“Then,” I said, “we will have stirred up the hornet’s nest, and we shall be able to watch the results. Always better to be involved in chaos of your own making, Leonidas. We know almost nothing and are set against powerful forces, but as long as they are reacting to what we do, the advantage is ours.”

Autumn 1791

Within a few months of our arrival in Philadelphia, even Jericho Richmond, the most cynical of our band, began to think success was likely, if not precisely assured. William Duer may have been intrigued initially by the mere novelty of a female speculator, but soon enough he came to regard me as a sage advisor as well. I should like to have been able to offer him advice on how to invest, and have that advice bear fruit, but I am no more prescient than any other mortal, and I had no abilities beyond those provided by keen observation and common sense. Accordingly, I did the next best thing. Already having one of Dalton ’s whiskey boys close to Duer, I could receive word on the speculator’s plans and then advise him to do what I knew he intended. If I could not predict the market, I could at least predict the investor, and he, hearing his own ideas parroted back, believed me brilliant, for I reflected back to him his belief in his own sagacity.

It was important that I also know the history of the investor. When I met with Duer I questioned him as closely as I dared. My interest would always have to be that of an adoring woman, not a counting-house clerk, and yet it was the details of the ledger book I craved. Indeed, Duer dropped a few hints of some past exploits I thought could be useful, and accordingly I visited the Library Company, that marvelous institution founded by Benjamin Franklin, and conducted some researches into old papers.

In reviewing the accounts of the old Board of Treasury, which functioned between the end of the war and the establishment of the Constitution, I learned that when William Duer had run the board he lent himself some $236,000, and only a careful review of the records, one conducted with knowledge of the cheat, made clear that the money had never been returned. Duer had stolen from his country, and apparently no one knew it.

I had found what I most sought, a key to Duer’s ruin. It was a primed pistol, ready for me to discharge when the time was right.

Duer was, as near as I could tell, quite dedicated to his wife, Lady Kitty, the daughter of William Alexander, the famous Lord Stirling, hero of the Revolution. Yet after our first meeting he asked me to meet him again the next day at the City Tavern, where we might discuss further my insights into speculation. I cared little for his reputation or the feelings of Lady Kitty, so I agreed immediately. As we were stepping out onto the street, however, we were joined again by Reynolds, who continued to eye me with suspicion.

“I’m certain I know you from somewheres,” he said to me.

“Mind how you speak to a lady, Reynolds,” said Duer.

“I’m not looking to be impertinent,” he said, “but I am to look after you, and I’m telling you I know her.”

I had to make a decision, for if I denied knowing them, my falsehood might later expose me. Thus I smiled at Duer. “You sold my husband a ground lease in the West some years ago.”

Reynolds colored. “By God, that’s it! You’re Maynard or Mayweather or something of that sort.”

“This is Mrs. Maycott,” said Duer. “Now, if you’re done-”