Robert Randisi - Bullets & Lies

“Yes, sir.”

He looked over at the bed.

“Can he speak today?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “His breathing is too labored.”

“I understand,” Roper said. “I’ll wait for Mrs. Westover to return out in the hall.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Roper nodded and went out. He was at a loss, for the moment, as to who had passed the word that he’d gone to Washington. If, indeed, anyone had. There was still that fifty-fifty chance that the shot had been meant for Donald White. In fact, it would be better for Roper if that was the case. But it seemed he was going to have an itchy spot in the center of his back for the rest of this job.

He turned as a door opened farther down the hall and Victoria stepped out.

“Oh, Mr. Roper,” she said. “Would you come in here, please?”

“Of course.”

She went in, and he followed, closing the door behind him. He found himself in what was once a bedroom, but was now a room lined with books. There was a writing desk, a wooden chair, and an armchair.

“I spend a lot of time in this room, so that I can be close to Howard,” she said. “But I do need my own privacy as well, so it serves a dual purpose.”

“I understand.”

“Here is a list of names and the last locations I have for them,” she said. “These are the men I believe will give you the affirmation that we need.”

Roper accepted the list and gave it a cursory glance.

“Victoria, this is going to require quite a bit of travel,” he said.

“I understand that.”

“It will be expensive.”

“I understand that, too,” she said. “We can agree on your fee, and then I will cover your travel expenses. I will also have Edward draw up a paper for these gentlemen to sign, legal affidavits that you can take back to Washington.”

“That’s fine,” Roper said. “If he can have those affidavits for me in the morning, I’ll get started.”

“Very well, then,” she said. “If you’ll have a seat, we can settle on your fee.”

21

Roper rode back to town without Harwick, who stayed behind to discuss the paperwork with Victoria. When he got to town, he returned his horse to the stable, then walked to the nearest bank. He deposited the check Victoria had given him for his fee and an advance on expenses, arranged to have the money transferred to his own bank, and walked out with some cash in his pocket. After that he went back to his hotel to work out a schedule for himself. The men whose names Victoria had given him all lived in points west, so he was going to have to map out a plan of action.

Victoria’s handwriting was very flowery, but he could make it out well enough:

Vincent McCord, Saint Joseph, Missouri

Gerald Quinn, Vega, Texas

Henry Wilkins, Jerome, Arizona

David Hampstead, Helena, Montana

Zack Templeton, Pierre, South Dakota

The list had not been written alphabetically, either by name or by state. He stared at it, wondering why she had written it in that order, but then he got it.

It was the perfect order for him to travel. A southerly route across the country, then north.

It made sense.

Now all he needed were the affidavits from Harwick. He folded the paper, put it in his pocket, and went downstairs to find some lunch.

“I think I’ve got the wording,” Harwick said to Victoria.

“Good,” she said. “Then you can go back to your office and draw them up.”

“Yes.”

He stood up. They were in her study, down the hall from her husband’s bedroom. He knew that she slept in her own room. He’d never seen it, though he had high hopes.

“I’ll walk you out, Edward,” she said, taking his arm in both hands.

They went downstairs that way, with her holding on to his arm. He found himself hoping the walk would never end.

When they got to the door, she released his arm. He looked at her. He often wondered if she knew, if she could tell by looking at him, how he felt about her.

“Victoria.”

“Yes?”

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes, Edward,” she said, “I’m sure. I know you have your doubts, but I need to make sure Howard doesn’t lose his medal. And I need for those men to get what’s coming to them. The government couldn’t do it, and the law couldn’t do it. So I am going to see that it gets done. Can you understand that?”

“Yes, of course.”

“I appreciate all your help.”

“That’s my jo—it’s all right. I’ll make an extra copy for you to go over.”

“That’s not necessary,” she said, patting him on the arm. “I trust you to do it correctly.”

He smiled and said, “I’ll bring you one anyway. You can file it.”

“Very well.”

He stood there a moment, wondering what she would do if he took her into his arms. Would she stiffen and pull away, or would she melt into him?

“All right, then,” he said. “I’ll get the affidavits to Mr. Roper in the morning.”

“Excellent, Edward,” she said. “Thank you.”

He went out the door, down the stairs, and climbed into his buggy. When he looked back, he thought he might see her standing there, watching him, but she was gone.

Victoria closed the door, feeling sorry for Edward Harwick. She knew he was in love with her. My God, it was written all over his face whenever he looked at her. She wondered if anyone else could tell. Certainly Talbot Roper. After all, he was a detective. He must have been able to see it. Hopefully not Polly and Miriam, though.

She went back upstairs, walked to her husband’s room, and entered. Polly was sitting by Howard’s bed, reading to him. She did that quite often.

“ Poor Richard’s Almanac ,” she said to Victoria, smiling.

“He likes Dickens,” Victoria said.

“Yes.”

She walked to the bed, put her hand over his heart again. It helped her to feel his chest rising and falling. There were days when he was strong enough to sit up, smile at her, speak to her. Not today, though.

“Polly, I’ll be in my study.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’ll see you at supper time.”

Polly took all her meals in that room, brought to her either by Victoria or Miriam.

“All right.”

She left the room, closed the door, and leaned back against it. She wondered if she should have told Talbot Roper more. No, if he was aware of her real plan, he never would have gone along with it. He had a reputation for being a hard, capable man, but also an honest one. There wasn’t enough money in the world to corrupt a truly honest man.

22

Roper was having breakfast in the morning when Harwick entered the dining room. He was glad to be leaving Hurricane that morning. He was looking forward to meals in other places, even on the trail. He enjoyed eating over open campfires, and there were a lot of them in his future. Also, after Hurricane and Washington, he found himself longing for open spaces.

“Breakfast?” he asked Harwick.

“No, thank you. I just came to give you these.” He held out a large brown envelope.

“Don’t be impolite, Edward,” Roper said. “At least sit and have some coffee.”

“Yes, all right.”

“Pour yourself some.”

As the lawyer sat and poured, Roper wiped his hands on a cloth napkin, slid the papers out of the envelope, and looked them over. Five single pages, all the same, stating that the signer swears to the fact that the conditions under which Howard Westover earned his Medal of Honor were, in fact, honorable.

He put the papers back into the envelope and set it on the chair next to him, then picked up his utensils again.