Seven:
''Denver?'' Caledon Hockley tapped the end of his cigar into a solid gold ashtray before taking a deep inhalation of it once more, allowing the tobacco to soothe his throat.
''Yes. The young maid was quite forthcoming about the information.''
''How long?''
''About a fortnight.''
Cal tapped his agitated fingers against his desk as he debated his options. The study had been a mess after Dawson had left but with a couple of thousand dollars, he had managed to get the house back to its original state. After spending a day or two in absolute agony, drinking anything to block out the pain, his father had come to him with the newspaper; Dawson had kept his word and the press knew EVERYTHING. He hadn't feared the interest; the telephone had rung off the hook for days afterwards, people wanted to know if it was true. Of course, it was true. The only option though, to save his own name, was to follow his father's instructions and to issue a statement. A statement about Rose and the state of her mental health. The people of Philadelphia were now somewhat reluctant to speak to Ruth Dewitt Bukater after the reports of her daughters raging, crazy actions and not to mention the illegitimate child. Hockley and his family were the real heroes by trying to do their best by Rose and the child...Nathan Hockley had laughed the first time he heard the story. People will buy such utter tripe. He had clapped his hands together. Such a good job the Bukater's don't run the paper no more, son.
''What are you thinking?'' Nathan swirled the ice around in his bourbon as he sat opposite his son. His grey hair was slicked back in the same style as Cal's, his dark, deep eyes matching his sons.
''I'm not sure, father.''
''Well, you can't go down there and bring her home. The girl is raging mad!''
Cal smirked. ''Indeed. But, there are a few loose ends to tie up with the young Dawson.''
''Ah yes.''
Cal inhaled his cigar once more. ''More than words need to be exchanged.''
''Just don't get caught.''
''I don't intend on it.''
Nathan sat forward in the leather upholstered chair. ''So, what is in Denver?''
''Just an old friend.'' Cal smiled knowing just who Jack had turned to. ''Margaret Brown.''
''Oh, my.'' He chuckled. ''That old goose. A woman who likes to involve herself in politics.''
''The very one.''
'Well, she certainly gives us all a run for our money, doesn't she? Perhaps she will be elected president next run?''
Cal shook his head as he laughed at his father's joke. ''Don't be so absurd.'' He noted Molly's opinions about such matters during their talks at the dinner table. He had even found her amusing once or twice but purely based on the fact that she was a woman with such strong opinions, nothing further. A woman trying to do a man's job was beyond a laugh.
Nathan's face fell serious. ''What is to become of Ruth?''
Cal rubbed his chin, feeling a few days growth of stubble. ''Well, she is redundant now although she had relied on me financially during my courtship and engagement to Rose. Of course, we know without us she, too would have nothing.''
Nathan thought for a moment. ''What a shame.''
Cal stood from the chair, straightening his back, he went to the restocked drinks cabinet, pouring himself another bourbon and inspected his father's glass to ensure it was topped up.
''No more for me.'' He held out his hand. ''I have things to tend to back home.''
Cal nodded. ''Of course.''
''I trust you will find the news handy?''
''Well, thank you for the information. I shall be acting on it very shortly.''
Nathan drank the remainder of his bourbon. ''I shall very much enjoy hearing what your intentions are.''
Nathan opened the door to the study. As he did, Cal spotted a maid passing the study, heading down the corridor with a large flower arrangement. ''Get my father's coat and hat.'' He ordered, sternly.
''Yes, sir.'' She curtseyed, placing the vase upon the nearest table before going to collect what had been asked of her.
Cal ran his index finger across the top of a new cabinet inspecting whether or not it had been freshly dusted as he had asked that morning. It had.
''I must ask - Spicer Lovejoy. He was a fantastic contribution to our hires; his fate was a shame.''
''Indeed.''
Cal pressed his lips together as they stood awaiting for the maid to fetch Nathan's belongings. ''Just where did you find a man like him?''
Nathan smirked. ''I have many contacts, son. For an old man, I have eyes and ears all over this city.''
Cal raised his eyebrows, toying with the idea for a moment. ''Find me another, just as good, if not better.''
''He didn't come cheap, are you sure it is worth it just to go after a girl who is now damaged goods?''
The maid returned with Nathan's black outer coat. He dressed himself in it before taking the hat from her and placing it on his head. He was now dressed the part too; a millionaire steel tycoon. A father and businessman to be proud of.
''Father, my issue is with that nuisance of a lover of hers.''
''Yes, I see that.''
Cal rubbed his chin as he thought of a course of action. One which would ensure his name was kept further out of the mud, but one which would send a clear message out to Dawson. It would be a difficult plan to hatch.
''Which is why I require some help.''
Nathan tapped his solid gold cane against the wooden floor. ''Well, use it well.''
''I intend to.''
It was another three days before Caledon Hockley stood face to face with a man several years younger than he. He was tall, dark and his features were very sharp. He wore a very tidy three-piece suit, one which looked exactly like his own.
''And you are the man who my father states are good enough to take on a job like this one?''
The man's gaze was unwavering. ''Yes.'' His lips were fine set and his face gave nothing else away.
''Have you had any previous experience?''
The man's face remained expressionless but his deep exhale gave way his annoyance.
''Mr. Hockley, this is not a job interview. I am afraid you either require my assistance or not.'' He told him, calm but firmly. ''I know your previous hire, Spicer was an older man; an ex police officer and railroad security and I hear he served you well for two years.''
''Yes, he was a fine man.''
''I am sorry to hear of his passing in what I can only imagine is the greatest tragedy of our times.''
''Indeed.''
Cal placed his hands behind his back, joining them slowly. He took small steps about the man; ensuring he knew just who would be the boss if he was allowed the job.
''So, what is your plan?''
Cal raised his eyebrows. ''What gives the impression you are the man to be taking this on?''
''Well, as your father said; I am the better person for this job. ''
Cal narrowed his eyes. ''Yes, well. This will be a very detailed plan, with no room for mistakes. I am not only hiring a valet but a spy and someone who can help me take down a man of very little importance to me, but it has to remain discreet.''
The man joined his long fingers together as he took a seat at the leather upholstered chair without even been asked. He was cocky, Cal noted. But perhaps, that wasn't such a bad thing.
''Can I ask what he did? This fella you intend to 'take down?''
Cal averted his gaze. ''Do you not read the newspapers?''
''Afraid not, sir. I am a busy man. I arrived in Philadelphia yesterday from Boston and then before that I had been in Florida. Gossip isn't in my remit, Mr. Hockley.''
For some reason, he liked the man more than he had done before. The fact that he wasn't familiar with the stories would work to his advantage.
''Well then, would you care for a drink whilst I explain some of it? Seem as though you have already made yourself at home in my office.''
The man shook his head, moving his hair from his eyes. ''No, thanks. I like to keep a straight head but my ears are open.''
Cal thought twice of pouring himself a drink. A quick glance at the clock told him it was just after noon, a little early. To Hell with it...
''Very well.''
He went to the drinks cabinet and inspected a turned upside-down tumbler, ensuring it was clean before pouring himself a brandy. He took a sip, feeling how it soothed him immediately. He swatted his hair from his face and took a seat at the Master side of the table. Now, he felt the power come back to him.
''Well, I was engaged to be married to a woman; Rose.'' He glanced up to the man, who sat expressionless, waiting for him to continue, so he did.
''Whilst aboard the Titanic, there was a young man on board; an artist of some sort. A filthy, dirty steerage passenger who thought it would be right to put his hands on my fiancé. Whilst that was never proved to be correct, it came to my attention that he had indeed saved Rose's life whilst she was looking at the propeller's one evening.'' Cal took another sip from his brandy. '' The next evening, at my stupid request, he joined us all for dinner, that wasn't the problem. After dinner, she accompanied him to a steerage dance of some sort. Lovejoy had been out looking for them all evening and he found them, dancing together, her in his arms as though they were Godamn lovers.'' The anger rushed back to him, just as clearly as when he remembered Lovejoy telling him of Rose's antics. He necked half of his brandy. ''I warned her away from him. Her Mother warned her. But somehow, she went back to him. There was a portrait; of her naked, which he had drawn. She had taken him into her bed, like some prostitute and yet not once did she ever offer herself to me.''
The man remained stoic.
''And so, I had him arrested for taking my fiancé and for taking a necklace. One which has more value than you'll ever see in your existing life and your children's children, too.''
''The Heart of the Ocean?''
Cal shifted in his seat. ''How could you be aware of-?''
''Your father, Mr. Hockley.'' He sat forward in his seat. ''So, is this about the money?''
''Certainly not.'' Cal snapped. ''That Godamned ship was sinking and she jumped back onto it from a lifeboat just to be with him! That's when I tried to shoot the bastard, but Lovejoy took over from that.'' He bowed his head. ''That was the last time I saw him, chasing my fiancée and her lover into the ship...''
''So, you're angry that they played a part in his death?''
Cal's lips pressed together to the point of them growing white. ''No.''
''Resume.''
''I found her on aboard the rescue ship and she came back to me, to her Mother, so easily. I knew that she would marry me. I could even be finding myself forgiving her. The lover was supposed to be dead and even though she mourned him, she wanted to go ahead with the wedding...''
'' All right.''
''But then-'' Cal's fist curled into a ball. ''Then, she is carrying his child.''
The man sat upright in the seat. ''I see.''
''I told her that we would see to it. Send it away once it was born and then resume the wedding plans. She agreed. I couldn't look at her after that. Her body evolved and she became a woman, a mother to be and it revolted me but I knew once the child was gone that I would get past that.'' He took a sip of brandy. ''I knew she wasn't as pure as I had wanted but she was still there, willing to be mine.''
''But?''
''Then out of the blue, he comes to the house, looking for her. The bastard was alive and well.''
A long look at the man told Cal that he now had his interest.
''We made a deal, I would feed him information of Rose and the child's well-being in exchange for absolute secrecy.'' Cal laughed. ''Well, he took Rose, the child and they ran away and, in his trail,, he outed our entire deal to the newspapers.''
''Well, well.''
''Yes, indeed. That mess was mostly cleared up by lawyers, my father and a lot of money. Rose's mental state since the sinking had been questionable, so who knows if she was taken for or against her own will. The child would be better in a care system, with a happy, perhaps childless couple who would be willing to offer her a great life.''
''And him?''
Cal reached into the top drawer of his desk with trembling hands. First, he pulled out a handgun and he placed it carefully onto the table. ''Two options.''
''Go on.''
Finding what he was looking for in the drawer, he pulled out a thick cigar and placed it between his lips.
''I think you know what they may be.''
The man nodded, collecting his thoughts. He watched as Cal lit a cigar and a cloud of smoke surrounded them. ''So, are you asking me to end his life?''
''Or cause a great deal of pain.''
The smoke blurred his vision for a second before he wafted it away. ''I see.''
''Are you still the man such a job?''
The man stood, as he held out his hand. ''Sure, why not.''
Cal got to his feet also, balancing his cigar in the ashtray he shook the firm hand of the new hire.
''So, do you have a name?''
''Phillip. Phillip Dawson.''