Chapter 3

He knows little who will tell his wife all he knows.

—Holy and Profane States (maxim VII, The Good Husband), Thomas Fuller (1608-1661), English author and divine

The following day was just as mystifying as the previous one. Jim took breakfast in the hotel, but went to different restaurants for the following two meals. He watched for anyone following him. He spent time in his hotel room. Nothing happened, and he did not see the curly haired man or the woman Artie had spied in the dining room. She had not been there again when either ate there, and they did not know if she was even in the hotel yet.

Artemus rotated his time between the hotel and the boarding house, in disguises as Mr. Packard and Mr. Percy Jardine. The landlady at the boarding house appeared to accept Mr. Packard as one of the visitors her roomer mention; she even flirted with him. At the hotel, Mr. Jardine asked the clerk for Mr. Packard's room. Philip Topper did not know that "Mr. Packard" had slipped out the back of the hotel, gone to the boarding house to change his disguise, and returned.

Frustrating and puzzling, was the way Artie put it when they met briefly in Jim's room just before Jim headed out for his supper. "Mr. Packard" would dine at the hotel as a way of keeping an eye on things there.

The only variation in the day was the receipt of two telegrams that arrived at the boarding house. Artie shared them with his partner at the pre-dining meeting. Both were from Bosley Cranston, but neither was helpful. Cranston was unable to find any information that was not already known.

Julius Napier had grown up in a slave-holding family, and while his father supported the Confederacy, the son had joined a Union Maryland troop. Nothing he did while in the service displayed any hint that he favored the South. He had received commendations for bravery and faithful service, and rose to the rank of major—which was an actual rank and not simply brevet.

After the war, he had returned to Maryland to find his family home in the hands of the bank after his late father had mortgaged it in order to support the Confederacy, losing it to foreclosure when he could not keep up the payments. Julius and his wife had relocated to Washington, D.C., where he obtained a government position and quickly rose through the ranks, as he had in the military, being appointed Under Secretary of Treasury just last year.

"It appears," Artie read from the second missive, "that Mr. and Mrs. Napier live modestly, although they mix in the Washington social scene and occasionally have small soirees at their home. They live within their means."

Jim shook his head. "Artie…"

"I know. It makes no sense. No sense whatsoever. What is he up to? Anything? Or simply exercising his newfound authority with McCulloch out of the county?"

"I might have to force the issue and go back to Washington, see what happens," Jim grumbled.

"While I experience a miracle recovery."

Another telegram informed them that Napier was visiting the doctor's house every day and inspecting "Artemus" closely. Thus far, he had not evinced any real suspicion that he was aware of the duplicity going on. "Dr. de Wald" expressed deep concern to the visitor regarding the possibility of the Secret Service agent's recovery and hoped that Mr. West would be able to return to be with his longtime friend. Napier did not respond to the comment, according to Lily's message.

They had mutually decided to stay out of the local taverns, where the initiating of a brawl might be too easy. In a melee, who would notice if something happened to one of the participants, whether he was killed or disappeared? While a whiskey was tempting after he had his supper at the nicer restaurant, Jim nonetheless walked back to the hotel instead.

Clerk Topping greeted him to hand over the room key, and regretfully told Mr. West that he had missed a fine pot roast dinner in the restaurant. Jim just shrugged. "Maybe next time. I felt the need to be out and about for a while."

In his room—where the slip of paper was still in the doorframe—he pulled off his jacket and was starting to unfasten the straps of the shoulder holster when he heard a sound outside the door. Intuition and experience told him the noise was not caused by his partner, nor was the subsequent light knock on the door from Artie's hand.

He had just pulled the pistol from the holster when a voice called out—a female voice. "Mr. West? It's Bella Napier. I must speak to you."

Startled, Jim hesitated a moment, then stepped to the door, grasping the handle with his left hand while holding the pistol in his right, somewhat hidden by his thigh. He opened the door a few inches, seeing the woman in the corridor. Pulling the door back further, he saw she was not alone. A second, younger woman stood alongside.

He had met Mrs. Julius Napier once at some function or other, but recognized her. The other was a stranger to him. Jim stepped back. "Come in." What the hell is this about?

They entered and he closed the door—and locked it. Mrs. Napier's brows lifted slightly, but she did not object. She was in her forties, still a very good-looking woman, with blue eyes and the blonde hair swept up under a felt hat trimmed with flowers around the brim. She wore what Jim knew would be called a "traveling costume," in gray wool with pink piping in the same shade as the roses on her hat, as well as her gloves.

"Mr. West, this is my niece, Miss Miriam Seeley. She has come along as my companion and protector, you might say."

"How do you do," Jim murmured. The younger woman bore some resemblance to her aunt, with blonde hair and blue eyes. She wore gold-rimmed glasses that seemed to enhance the sky blue of the eyes, and certainly did not detract from her attractiveness. "I'm sorry I do not have much in the way of furnishings. Please sit." He waved toward the bed.

The two women looked at each other, then walked to sit on the edge of the bed. Jim stood in front of them. "What is this about, Mrs. Napier? Why are you here?" He had holstered his pistol, but still wore the harness.

"I hope to save your life, Mr. West."

He folded his arms on his chest. "Please explain."

Bella Napier sighed heavily, and her niece reached to take the hand closest to her. "I need to tell you some things first, James. May I call you James?" Jim nodded but did not speak. "As you no doubt know, my husband came from a wealthy family who owned a great deal of property and numerous slaves in Maryland before the war."

"Nevertheless, he enlisted with and fought well with the Union troops."

"Yes. My father-in-law was a devout southerner, James. He was furious when Julius joined the northern army. However, he did not disown his son as some southerners—and possibly northerners—did in similar situations. I do not know for certain, but I believe that was because Julius explained his reasoning to his father. You see, as much as Julius believed in the southern 'way of life,' he was and is a very practical man.

"While his father never ventured north of the Mason-Dixon line, despite that it was just a few miles away, Julius traveled extensively in the north. He went to a university in Boston. He lived in New York for a few months, visited Chicago, and other large industrial cities, including Pittsburgh, where he met me. He understood the might of the North, and he knew that in the end, the Confederacy would fail. He wanted to be on the winning side, regardless of other consequences.

"He hoped, I believe, that his father understood this, but Papa was as hardheaded as Julius where the South was concerned. One of the last things Julius advised before leaving for the army was that his father should sell at least half the slaves. Papa did not. In the end, along with mortgaging the property to the hilt, he lost the slaves—either because they ran away or with emancipation and the end of the war, no market existed—and then the estate.

"Julius was more enraged than grieved over his father's death. I had gone back to Pittsburgh by the time he returned home here in Maryland. The bank was foreclosing on the house and everything else, so I took what I could to my family's home. Julius came to me there and we moved to Washington City to start a new life."

"I know that Mr. Napier entered the employ of the federal government," Jim put in as she paused a moment to collect herself.

"Yes. That was his plan. He was a good, loyal—and ambitious—employee who got himself noticed. His public persona was that of a Union man through and through. At home, in private, it was completely the opposite. He hated everything about the Union. I can't tell you how many times I had to listen to his diatribes."

"But you stayed…"

She shrugged, a small smile touching her lips. "I'm a woman, James. I married for better or worse. I loved Julius at the time. The man I knew before the war and the one I have lived with for the past seven years are completely different. We have not… not lived as man and wife for many years, you see. I am on his arm when he attends social or civic functions. I am the hostess of affairs held at our house. That is pretty much the extent of our relationship."

When she paused again, Jim waited a moment before asking, "Do you know something about what is going on here, why my partner and I were separated and I was ordered to Hagerstown?"

Again, Bella hesitated, but Miriam squeezed her hand and spoke for the first time. "Please, Auntie. It is important."

The older woman sighed noisily. "Yes. I could not have this on my conscience. First I need to tell you more about my husband, about his background. You see, his father was raised in Virginia, where his father owned a very large plantation, as well as property and homes in South Carolina. Papa was the third son. When his father died, the Virginia and South Carolina lands and houses were left to his two older brothers. Papa Napier received a sum of money. A very good sum that allowed him to purchase the property in Maryland, build a fine home, and own the slaves to maintain it.

"Papa Napier always seemed content with his lot. I suppose he lived with the knowledge that he would not inherit the family property all his life. Julius could not accept it, however. We would occasionally visit his uncles and cousins in the south, and while Julius appeared to enjoy those sojourns, it was always the same when we returned to Maryland. He ranted and raved about the unfairness of it all, that they had the massive houses, hundreds of servants, all the good things in life—as he saw it—and no worries. He knew that while he and his father were comfortable, their existence was nothing like that of those further south."

"His resentment…" Jim murmured.

Bella nodded. "It literally drove him mad. As I said, he enlisted in the Union Army, thinking he would outwit those in the South who he knew would lose their fortunes supporting the Confederacy. I don't know if he foresaw the ruination of many of those great estates, but he did expect to come out of it much better financially. Of all things, he expected his father to follow his advice. Coming back and realizing how it all had been lost seemed to be the final straw.

"He managed his outward appearance very well, and was able to obtain a fine position in Washington. While our home and life was nothing like what we had experienced before the war, it was very comfortable, physically. We wanted for nothing." Bella paused here, looking down at her hands. Jim waited quietly. Finally, she glanced at Miriam, who nodded encouragement and reached to take one of those hands.

"James, several weeks ago I happened to accidentally overhear a portion of a conversation Julius had with the owner of this hotel, a Mr. Henry Gale. They were in the study, and I entered the parlor next to it to retrieve a book. Usually the door between the rooms is closed, but it was slightly ajar that evening. I… I heard your name mentioned.

"I have read the newspapers—much to Julius's disapproval—and have followed yours and Mr. Gordon's careers with much admiration. Perhaps I might not have even bothered to listen further, but for what Gale said, which was 'Are you sure West can do this?' I was extremely curious, so I paused. In some ways, I wish I had not, because my husband's response turned my blood cold. He said, "He will or he'll die. He has this knowledge.' He went on to concede that your partner, Mr. Gordon, would also have the information in question, but he thought that you would be the better one to provide it. He said that if it were necessary to kill you, then Gordon would realize the seriousness of the 'business.' That's what he called it. 'Business.'"

Jim was frowning. "What information?"

"That I don't know! I realized as I listened that Julius was moving toward the open door, and I panicked. I fled from the room."

Miriam took it up from here. "When Aunt Bella heard that you and Mr. Gordon were being separated, she realized Uncle Julius was putting his plan—whatever it is—into action. She often travels to Pittsburgh to visit us, and that is what she did. When she told my mother and me all this, we persuaded her that she needed to inform someone."

"I couldn't go to Secretary McCulloch, as he is out of the country, which you no doubt know. I do not have access to the President. I could only think of coming to you directly, which as you see I have."

"I appreciate this very much, Mrs. Napier. So a friend of your husband's owns this hotel."

"Yes. I suspect they felt they could… control you better here."

Jim nodded. "Yes, I agree. I believe that at least the desk clerk is in their employ. How did you get by him, by the way?"

Both women giggled rather self-consciously, and Bella spoke. "We lingered in front of the hotel, watching through the window, until we saw him go into the door behind the desk. We were able to hurry in, peek at the ledger, and leave the lobby before he returned. Although I don't know now how we are going to exit unseen."

He smiled. "Don't worry. I can lead you to the rear door." Jim sobered. "You have no other information about what it is I'm supposed to have great knowledge of that would be worthwhile to your husband and Gale?"

"I just did not hear enough. I went so far as to attempt to eavesdrop on later conversations, but with no success. The door was closed. The house is very sturdy with thick walls and doors. I also tried to go through Julius's desk but it was locked."

"You are a very courageous woman, Mrs. Napier. I cannot tell you how much this means to me."

"Mr. West," Miriam Seeley spoke up, "we know about Mr. Gordon's illness. How is he?"

Jim assumed a somber face. "The last I heard no change has occurred in his condition. He's in a coma. I… I don't know what's going to happen." Although he was certain Mrs. Napier was telling him the truth, he did not feel he could take her completely into his confidence at this time.

"I'm so sorry. And they don't know what caused it?"

"Not yet. Mrs. Napier, is your husband still in Washington?"

"Yes, but he told the cook this morning that he would be going out of town tomorrow. That is why I made such a hurried trip to Pittsburgh and back here. I told Julius that my mother is ill. I felt you needed to know. I have no idea that Julius is coming to Hagerstown, but it certainly seems likely."

"What does Henry Gale look like?"

"He's rather short, around Julius's age, with curly blond hair. Although I had not met, or even heard of him, prior our coming to Washington, I believe he was a boyhood friend of my husband's. He has never been a social guest in our home. Julius never invited him to dinner or anything else."

"Odd," Jim murmured. So the man he encountered in the restaurant was likely Henry Gale; one of the men who followed him was also short, although he had not been close enough to see his features or hair.

"He must be a crook," Miriam suggested. "Perhaps Uncle Julius did not wish to be seen associating with a known criminal."

Jim smiled and nodded. "Quite true, Miss Seeley. I will try to find out. I've never come across his name to my knowledge. Does he live here in Hagerstown?"

"I don't know," Bella replied. "It seems likely, however. His business is here."

"Auntie," Miriam said after consulting the watch brooch pinned to the lapel of her pale green traveling costume, "we will need to go soon to catch our train back."

"Yes. James, I hope this is of help to you." She rose to her feet, as did her niece.

"Tremendous help. Even if you cannot give me particulars, I can inform others to do more investigation."

Bella sighed then. "I know it's going to end badly for Julius. But I could not keep silent, realizing your life was endangered, as well as others perhaps."

"You can be assured that Mr. Napier will not learn of your participation from me. Thank you."

After checking out in the hallway to find it deserted, Jim led them toward the back and down a short flight of stairs that led to a door opening to the rear area of the hotel, which held a stable and other buildings where possibly hotel supplies were stored. He escorted them down an alley beyond the stables until they entered another street. There they found a cab that would take them to the railway station.

"I wish you all the best, James," Bella said through the cab window. "Please come to Pittsburgh one day for a visit."

Behind her aunt, Miriam smiled. Jim nodded. "I will plan on it."

He returned to the hotel, warily entering through the rear door again and making his way to the first floor corridor. Just as he arrived at the top of the stairs, he saw a figure at the opposite end of the hall and jumped back—almost at the same moment realizing that the figure was "Mr. Packard."

Jim stepped out, whistled shortly, and waved to his partner to join him. Artie did so. When the door was securely closed, he related what had just occurred with his surprise visitors. Artie's eyes widened as he listened. "What in the world…?"

"Yeah. Napier apparently believes that we have some important information about something… something that he wants."

Artie shook his head, mystified. "But what?"

"No idea, pal. It sure clarifies some things. You need to get to the telegraph office."

"Yeah, and I'd better code it. I will go to my room and do that. What are you going to do?"

"Be extra cautious, that's for damn sure. If Napier is heading to Hagerstown, as Mrs. Napier believes, things may be coming to a head. We need some information as soon as possible."

"I don't know how the department can help in that area, Jim."

"I don't either, but ask. Maybe they can talk to some of Napier's fellow employees at the Treasury Department. Although as Mrs. Napier pointed out, he has been living two lives. He might not have dropped any hints there in his guise as a loyal federal employee."

Artie went to the door but paused with his hand on the latch. "Jim, part of the plan, as Mrs. Napier described it, was that if you refused to divulge this information—whatever it is—you would be killed and I would be next in line, figuring that knowing of your death I would be more willing to cooperate."

"Yep." Jim nodded, knowing where his partner was going with this. "With 'you' very ill and unavailable, that means more pressure to persuade me to talk. Let's not worry about that right now, pal. Maybe we can nip this whole thing in the bud."

W*W*W*W*W

Artemus hurried to his room to pull out paper and pencil in order to work on the communication he wanted to send. Coding it was imperative now. They knew that the clerk, Topping, was in the employ of Napier and his partner. They did not know how many others in this hotel, or this town, were also in on the conspiracy. Thus far, their telegrams to and from Washington had been innocuous and more or less expected. They could not risk the information transmitted in this one falling into the wrong hands.

He had some problems concentrating. The news that Jim was to be "persuaded" to provide whatever information Napier wanted was harrowing. To Artie that meant torture: Jim would not willingly divulge any secrets, and secrets had to be behind this. Napier had access to virtually all information possessed by the Treasury Department, and that included Secret Service files, thus he wanted something that would not necessarily be in those files.

Money has to be involved, Artie mused, pencil pausing over the pad on his lap. Money from where? A bank? A military payroll? He shook his head slightly. They would not need to get that information from us. He shook his head slightly, recalling Jim's narration of Mrs. Napier's description of her husband's deception.

He duped all of Washington for nearly seven years… no, more like ten or eleven years, beginning when he enlisted in the Union army. "Southerners" from Maryland were not generally as distrusted as those who came from the more southern states, as had General Thomas and Colonel Benjamin "Grimes" Davis and others; the same thing happened with northerners who enlisted in the southern military. Wide-ranging belief had it that those men found it more difficult to rise in the ranks and be relied upon. Maryland was closer to the north and in fact remained in the Union, although regiments of men from that state served in the Confederate Army, as well as the Union Army.

Julius Napier had risen smoothly through the ranks of his regiment, and from all accounts, served bravely in battles. No blemishes appeared on his record. Excellent actor, it appears. He should have gone on stage!

Sighing, Artie returned to his task of writing the note. The actual message was not difficult. Encoding it so that it made some semblance of sense to the telegraphers handling it was the main problem. He smiled knowing that whoever responded from Washington would have the same difficulty.

Getting the missive actually sent turned out to be another problem altogether. A man and two women were ahead of him in the Western Union office, wrangling about a telegram they wanted to send. Artie got the impression they were man and wife and the sister of one of them. He eventually decided the second woman was the sister of the husband and quite obviously, she did not get along with her sister-in-law, contradicting everything the wife wanted to put in the message. The husband was in the middle of it all.

Worse, the telegram did not appear to be about anything urgent, merely telling another relative about plans for an anniversary party and asking who would be able to attend. They could not agree on the wording. Every time the poor telegrapher started to reach for the pad of paper it was written on, the pad was jerked back by one or the other woman to change or add a word. The telegrapher could only sit back and roll his eyes, shrugging apologetically in Mr. Packard's direction.

Artie fought the temptation to announce himself as a government agent with a priority message to transmit. The possibility still existed that the telegrapher—or even the noisy trio—were part of Napier's conspiracy. Highly unlikely, but I just can't take a chance at this point. We know Napier is on his way, and may even be in Hagerstown already. Without a clear idea of his plans…

Consequently, he waited. Fortunately, the office had a bench so he sat down on it, and was soon joined by another man who scowled and made loud remarks about the squabbling trio. Finally, a good forty-five minutes after entering, Artie was able to send his wire. The telegrapher apologized profusely. This was not the first time this trio had behaved like this, he said.

"If I'd see them coming up the street, I'd lock the door and pull down the shades—if I could!"

The telegram sent, Artie went back to the hotel and into the restaurant for his supper. Jim was not present, so he probably either had a quick meal while Artie was at the telegraph office or else he had decided to go to another eatery. In his guise as Mr. Packard, he was a garrulous old man, so he talked to the waiter, talked to the people at the next tables—annoying one couple—and fussed about his food.

He finally ambled out into the lobby to spend time chatting with Topping, the clerk, who was obviously not in the mood to talk. That was somewhat surprising. Topping had always seemed to have time and inclination to converse with anyone who was near rather than attend to his duties. He appeared a little tense. Perhaps his boss (Gale?) had come in and caught him neglecting his work, or worse, the hotel's clients.

Artie resisted going to Jim's room right away. He entered his own room and spent a bit of time at the mirror refreshing his makeup from the small kit he had brought from the rooming house. I'll sure be glad when I can go back to being myself for a while! Right now the only time he could do that was when he removed his disguise before going to bed.

Perhaps an hour later he realized he had not heard Jim out in the hallway, or anyone else. That meant close to three hours had elapsed since they talked in Jim's room. Puzzled, and just slightly concerned, Artie rose from the bed where he had been reclining and reading, exited his room, and toddled down the hall.

At Jim's door, he tapped on it. Hearing no response, he tapped again. Then tried the doorknob. It was unlocked so he pushed it open. The nearly dark room was empty. Worse, the window to the alley was standing open, the blind having been rolled up and the vase placed on the floor.

Damn! Why did I wait so long to check on him?

Every nerve he owned was required to pull himself together and enter the lobby casually. Topping was talking to a lady guest who strolled away as old Mr. Packard approached. "Say, youngster, have you see that Mr. West? He said he was going to buy me a drink tonight. I knocked on his door and he don't answer."

Topping pulled a straight face. "No, I haven't seen him this evening. Maybe he forgot."

"Hmph! Yeah. Probably decided he didn't want to bother with an old codger. Well, I'll sure give him a piece of my mind when I see him again." Artie continued to grumble in this manner as he headed out the front door.

On the darkened street, Artie shambled along until he was away from view by the hotel window, then hurried down the alley that Jim's room window opened into. He knelt below the window, using matches to attempt to inspect the ground. With a muttered curse, he tossed the final match onto the ground.

Nothing. The surface is too hard to leave footprints. Still, he moved to the back of the hotel, looking around as best he could in the gloom. He did find a pile of fairly fresh manure, indicating a horse had been here. Whether that meant anything in relation to Jim, he did not know.

I need some help, and pronto!