Jim had arrived minutes after his friend and quietly put his horse away and snuck to the parlor car. He propped the door open so he could watch his partner and friend without being seen. Jim listened to the telegraphs he was sending and his heart went out to his friend. When the President got wind of this, and Jim was sure that he would, there would be hell to pay. Grant had made sure those records were sealed and Jim had had to do some heavy bribing and charming to get a peek at them after being assigned to Artie.
Jim could understand why Artie felt the need to know what happened but he wasn't sure Artemus would see things his way and realize what happened wasn't his fault. He jumped back when Artemus put the telegraph away and slowly rose to his feet. Jim's frown deepened when he saw him grab a bottle of whiskey. He quietly ran back down the hall to make it look like he had just come in.
Artemus made his way to his room, pausing as he passed the kitchen. Then he shook his head, he really wasn't in the mood for food, and continued on to his bedroom. Once inside, Artemus sat heavily in the chair beside the bed and opened the bottle. He poured himself a large glass and took a healthy gulp, closing his eyes as the amber liquid coursed through his system. He knew it wouldn't help ease his mind but he did hope it would help him sleep. He removed his clothes and dressed for bed knowing he probably wouldn't sleep well that night if at all.
He groaned when he looked into the mirror and saw the bruises young Tucker had given him. If I killed his father like he claims I deserve this and more, Artemus thought as he gingerly touched the bruised flesh. I probably should have taken Jim up on his offer to have a doctor look at this…but what the hell, I don't feel like anything's broken just maybe bruised or cracked a few ribs but that will heal, Artemus thought to himself as he slipped into his nightshirt. He pulled the covers back on his bed and climbed in reaching for the bottle of whiskey. It was going to be a long night.
Jim peeked in on his friend after a while and was saddened to see the empty whiskey bottle lying beside his partner on the bed. That was never a good sign, especially when Artemus was the one doing the drinking and on an empty stomach. He knew his partner's penchant for wearing his heart on his sleeve but Jim also knew that Artemus was a heavy thinker and that it was intensified when he drank like this. Jim watched his partner sleep for a bit, frowning at all the tossing and turning he was doing. Jim went on to his own room even more determined than ever to keep a watchful eye on his partner.
The morning dawned cold and overcast and Washington D.C. was swathed in a blanket of new fallen snow. Artemus looked out the window of the parlor car not seeing the snow or the people bustling about in the town. He had tried to read the morning papers but try as he might he hadn't really been able to read any of the words before him. He had hoped to hear some replies from his telegrams of the previous night but so far the telegraph had remained silent.
Jim placed a plate of food in front of him but Artemus had so far ignored it. Jim tried not to say anything, knowing Artemus' mind was elsewhere. Finally Artemus came to a decision and he rose and left the car without saying a word to his partner. Jim just stared open mouthed as the door closed behind his partner.
Artemus left the train and headed toward the Capital building. He went to Colonel Richmond's office and asked for an appointment. The secretary, usually glad to see him, seemed somewhat flustered. She told him the Colonel was tied up in meetings and wouldn't be free until possibly later that day. Artemus told her to set aside time for him, as he would be back. He turned abruptly and left the office headed for the records division. Artemus was again met with the same flustered looking secretary and the same response…nothing was available to him until later. He sighed and told her he would return later that day as well. He then strode purposefully to the President's office only to be turned away yet again. It's a damned conspiracy, he thought.
Not knowing where to go from there, Artemus wandered the streets for a while finding himself back at the same saloon from the night before. He strode in and ordered a beer, thought better of it and changed his order to whiskey and told the barkeep to leave the bottle. Artemus picked up the glass and the bottle and headed toward a table in the back. He sat quietly drinking, his eyes staring a hole in the center of the table.
Jim had not had any trouble figuring out where his friend had gone when he first left the train but finding him after he had left the Capital seemed to be another story. Jim wandered around the Capital area asking about him until he finally got tired and wanted a break. He wandered to a saloon across the street when he realized it was the one from the night before. He peeked in and found his partner sitting quietly in the back.
Jim entered the saloon and walked over to the barkeep. He ordered a beer and struck up a conversation with the barkeep.
"Yes, sir, he's been here the better part of an hour," the barkeep was saying.
"Has he been like that since he came in?" Jim asked about his partner's sullen look.
"Yeah, one of the ladies tried to talk to him but it's like he didn't even see her. He's just been sitting there sipping his drinks and staring a hole in that table."
"My partner can kind of lose track of his surroundings sometimes."
"Whatever's bothering him he might want to find a better way to deal with it than that bottle. That won't help him none," the barkeep sounded genuinely worried.
"I aim to help him with that if he'll let me."
"Mister something tells me you're going to have your hands full with that one."
Jim merely nodded and took his beer and headed back to the table and his sullen partner. Jim stood by Artemus' side waiting to be acknowledged, when Artie failed to notice him Jim sat his beer down on the table and pulled a chair up. He studied his friend for a few minutes choosing his words carefully.
"Artie, I know this thing with Tucker is bothering you but do you really think drowning the problem in whiskey is going to help?" Jim spoke softly, Artemus finally pulled his eyes away from the center of the table and brought his icy stare up to meet his partner's concerned gaze.
"Why does everyone want to keep me from finding out who John Tucker was and what happened to him? I seem to remember a man named Tucker but I don't recall having had much of anything to do with him." Jim knew it was a rhetorical question and kept silent, waiting for Artemus to continue.
"I went to every agency and office I could think of and all I was told was that it would be this afternoon before anyone could tell me anything if they would even tell me anything then. All I want to know is what happened…did I kill this man named Tucker? Was it my fault or no one's fault? Damnit, why can't I remember what happened at Shiloh?" Artie slammed his fist onto the table sloshing beer out of Jim's untouched mug.
"I don't know, pal. Maybe it's best if you don't know."
"Are you saying you think I killed that man?" Artemus glared at him.
"No, pal, you couldn't do something like that in a million years. I'm just saying maybe it's for the best you don't get those records. The war was a bad time for everyone involved…maybe this is just something better left alone," Jim tried to ease his friend's pain.
"Out there somewhere is a kid just waiting to take a pot shot at me and I can't honestly say that he doesn't have every right to do it."
"I won't let that happen, pal, I won't," Jim stated.
"What are you going to do, Jim? You plan on babysitting me for the rest of my life? That kid has a lot of years of hate in him and who's to say it isn't justified? No, I have to find out what happened…I have to find out if he's right," Artemus grabbed his whiskey and stormed out of the saloon leaving Jim staring after his shadow.
Jim quickly left the saloon and tailed his partner, being very careful as he knew Artie was an expert at knowing when he was being tailed as well as an expert at losing one. He followed his partner as he meandered throughout the vast city, his concern for his partner growing as he realized the only places Artie was going into were saloons and each one only meant more whiskey being consumed by his friend.
Finally, just when Jim had decided he would have to intervene, a rather tipsy Artemus Gordon headed toward the Capital building again. Jim hoped the crisp winter air would clear his friend's head a little before he went to try to meet the President. Artemus stopped to gaze at the Capital building before going in. He straightened his clothes and put on his best no nonsense face and went inside.
Artemus strode purposefully toward the reception desk, the girl behind the desk staring at him. He again asked for an appointment with the President and when he was told he would be busy until tomorrow, Jim, from his hiding place just down the hall behind a potted plant, thought Artie might go ballistic on the poor girl. His face reddened and his expression became a mask of grim determination.
"Miss, I need to see the President and I need to see him NOW! Either you get me in to see him or you call security to escort me out because I will NOT leave this building until I see the man I came to see," Artemus leaned in close and was shouting at the girl.
"I'm sorry sir, but the President is a very busy man. He's got meetings scheduled…" she began, trying to hold back the tears that were forming.
"One more time, miss…I need to see President Grant and I need to see him NOW. I have gotten the run around from every agency this government has and by God I will NOT be put off anymore…" Artemus was just beginning to hit his stride when the door to the President's office opened.
"Miss Leavenworth, let Mr. Gordon in, please and then you may go for the day," the President had decided it was time to deflate Artemus before he blew a blood vessel.
"Yes, sir," she said as she gestured to Artemus who merely glared and brushed past her.
