"You might as well relax." Artie set a good example by stretching out on his army-issue cot. "You're not getting out of here until Grant vouches for you."
"What's taking him so long?" Jim paced the length of their small cell. "Maybe he was supposed to be killed during the attempted coup too. Maybe someone's had time to finish up the job."
"I'm sure your friend Lafayette would be glad to tell you if any harm had befallen Grant. He strikes me as the type who enjoys giving people bad news. And pulling the wings from butterflies. And taking candy from babes. All those wholesome activities."
"I think you're right." Jim plopped down onto his cot. "I just wish I knew what his angle is. Do you think he was involved in the conspiracy?"
"Not in the actual murder, but could he be trying to cover-up something?" Artie shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."
"I'd be willing to bet that…" Jim jumped to his feet as a guest arrived. "General! It's good to see you, sir. I was beginning to worry about you."
"You're the one who's behind bars, James." Grant waited for a nervous private to open the cell door. "But why, I don't know."
"Booth had a journal. I tried to get it for you, but Colonel Baker…"
"I have it here." Grant patted his coat pocket. "Lafayette gave it to me himself."
"He gave it to you?" Jim followed the others out of the building. "I don't understand. Why would he refuse to give it to me if he was planning to give it to you all along?"
"Perhaps he really didn't' believe that you were an officer." Grant chuckled as he noted Jim's civilian clothing. "I can see where he might have had trouble seeing past the workman garb to your military soul."
"I suppose…." Jim couldn't shake his suspicions. "Could I take a look at the journal, sir?"
"Of course." Grant handed over the small book. "But I've already skimmed it. As far as I can tell, it's just the ravings of a madman."
Jim flipped open the journal, held it so Artie could see it too. At first glance, it was just pages and pages of Booth's justification for the assassination. But when Jim looked closer… "Artie, do you see what I see?"
"Missing pages." Artie took the book for closer examination. "A dozen, maybe. Perhaps more."
"What?" Grant stared at the evidence that the book had been altered. "I suppose Booth could have ripped them out himself."
"Right. He may just have disposed of pages that he'd revised." Jim determined that the three men were away from all eavesdroppers. "Or Baker might have been covering for someone who was mentioned in the journal. Booth's superior perhaps."
"Secretary Stanton has determined that the plot goes no farther than Booth and his circle of conspirators." Grant tucked the book back into his coat pocket. "It's time to end the manhunt for Lincoln's killers. The nation needs time to heal its wounds."
"But, General, people have the right to know if Booth was taking orders from someone higher up. Let me talk to some of Booth's sympathizers." Jim glanced at Artie, was rewarded with a nod of support. "If someone in the government was involved, Artie and I can…"
Grant shook his head firmly. "The nation has been ripped asunder and has been drowning in its own blood for four years. Our country needs to have faith in its government, to have faith that the future will be brighter than the past. Telling our citizens that their leaders were involved in the death of their martyred president will only cast a pall over an already shaky future."
"Then you'll hide the truth in that book?" Jim stared at Grant in confusion. "You'll keep people in the dark about what really happened to Lincoln?"
"I would, though we have no evidence that Booth was involved with anyone in a position of power." Grant patted his pocket. "All that any of us knows for sure is that Booth's last testament is missing several pages. There's no reason to believe that anyone other than Booth destroyed them."
"But if the mastermind is still out there, President Johnson could be in danger."
"No one would waste a bullet on Johnson." Grant chuckled, then grew serious. "I'll need your word, James, that you will never mention the journal or its contents to anyone without my express permission. You too, Mr. Gordon."
"You have my promise, General." Artie adopted his best simpleton persona. "Don't know nothing about nothing no how."
"And you, Captain?" Grant laid a hand on Jim's shoulder. "You've trusted me during the thick of battle, when things were at their darkest. Will you also trust me to know how best to keep the peace?"
"Of course, General. I just…" Jim drew to attention. "Yes, sir. No mention without your permission, sir."
"I knew I could trust you, James. I hope someday you'll understand my motives, but until then we've got a country to patch back together." Grant glanced at his watch. "And I'm late for a dinner engagement with the new president so I'm afraid I must be on my way."
Artie waited for Grant to walk out of earshot before turning to Jim. "He's right, you know. The peace is too fragile to survive a government scandal."
"So we ignore the possibility that someone in power was involved in the conspiracy and put a few low-level conspirators through a show trial?"
"If that's what it takes to give the country the time it needs to heal, yes." Artie steered Jim away from the busy street. "Look, I know how you feel. Once upon a time I was young and naïve too…"
"I'm hardly naïve."
"When it comes to war tactics, no. But when it comes to the murky world of politics…" Artie shook his head with a disarming smile. "Battles are fought out in the open, with the sides clearly marked. Politics is a game played in the shadows, where no one is ever truly certain who's on which side. If you're going to be a spy, the first thing you have to realize is that the world's not black and white. It's gray."
"And it's up to the people in power to determine what facts the little people get to hear and what remains hidden for their own good?"
"I don't know if that's the right way to run a country or not. I only know that it's the way it's done. Myself, I'm just a tiny cog doing my small part to keep the machine running efficiently." Artie slapped Jim on the back. "Just like you are."
Jim shook his head. "Once the rebels have all given up their arms, I'm heading back home. I've seen enough death and destruction to last a lifetime."
"And what will you do once you're back home? Plant crops? Sell hats and shoes? Herd cows?" Artie laughed gently. "No, James my boy. I haven't known you long, but I already know without a doubt that a life of peaceful obscurity is not for you."
"If it's good enough for Grant, it's good enough for me. The general is going back to Illinois, to his shop in Galena."
Artie snorted. "If you think Ulysses S. Grant is going to spend the rest of his life making change in a small-town shop, you're crazier than I thought. He's not leaving Washington and you're not leaving the battlefield."
"The war between the states is over, Artie. What do you suggest I do? Become a gun for hire?"
"I suggest you continue to do what you do best: serve your country. If you can't do it on the battlefield, then do it from the shadows."
"As a spy?" Jim's voice was filled with derision. "That's your game, not mine."
"It's true that I'm better at it than you are." Artie ignored Jim's scowl. "But given some acting lessons and a little coaching on accents…"
Jim waved away the argument. "I am who I am. I serve my country in uniform, not from the shadows."
"Alright, have it your way. But let me leave you with one last thought. What if a government operative had been able to infiltrate Booth's gang of conspirators and stop him before he was able to act? Wouldn't saving the life of someone as important to the country as Abraham Lincoln was be worth a little skullduggery?"
"Sure. I guess." Jim sighed. "Of course. But it didn't happen, did it?"
"That's because the government has no organized group of secret operatives, unlike other countries. But we will, someday. Mark my words."
"And when this society of spies is created, you'll be the first in line to sign up?"
"Me? Heavens no." Artie grinned. "I'm an actor. But you, my boy, have potential."
"And you have an overactive imagination."
"Perhaps." Artie's stomach growled, reminding him that it had been a very long day. A very long week. "Well, Captain, I believe we've done all we can do for the Union at the moment. It's up to the courts from here on out. I'm sure Booth's conspirators will soon be swinging from a rope and the country will finally be able to move on."
"The conspirators that we know of, at any rate." Jim held out his hand. "It's been…an experience… working with you. I hope I'll be able to see you on the stage one day in the future."
"Indeed, between my acting skills and your military acumen we were quite a team." Artie glanced down the street towards the nearest pub. "Perhaps a last drink before we head our separate ways?"
"You read my mind." Jim grinned as he fell into step beside his friend. "You know, someone really should go up to Canada and check out that group of Confederate sympathizers that your friend back in Riverton was talking about…."
"Indeed. I understand that there are several well-respected theatre companies up North. I could join one and you could accompany me as my mute dresser."
"Why do I always have to be mute? Why can't I just be a Northern traitor?"
"Because you are noble and true and incapable of betraying your country."
Jim scoffed.
"Very well, let me hear you condemn your General Grant as a drunken womanizer."
"He's not…." Jim broke off with a smile. "Alright. I'll be a mute."
"Good. Now then, it occurs to me that I could employ some theatrical props to good use in the future. Perhaps make some smoke bombs in case one needs to divert a killer or sew some hidden pockets in your clothes to conceal a derringer or a small knife…"
"My clothes? Why not your clothes?"
"Don't be ridiculous, James. I'm the actor. You're the warrior." Artie held the door of the pub for Jim. "Perhaps we could hollow out the heels of your shoes and hide something in there…"
Jim simply shook his head and made a beeline for the nearest tankard of beer. Let Artie have his crazy inventions and his shadow games. Jim was simply going to go up North, find the rest of Booth's allies and force one of them to talk. Once he'd satisfied himself that the new president was in no danger, he could retire from the army and start his peace-time career. Perhaps he'd go to Mexico and start a ranch….
WWW
