Clementine (The Clockwork Century 1.10)

“Let’s see it. ”

“Let’s see if you’re the man to ask. ”

Crutchfield shrugged and said, “All right. ”

“You used to be a Pinkerton operative?”

He said, “No. But I’ve worked for ’em on my own, every now and again. When it suited me, or when the money suited me. ”

“Rumor has it you’ll share a word or two about your old employer. Or part-time employer,” Hainey corrected himself. “So if I needed to learn a thing or two about an operative who’s on his way from Chicago right now, maybe you’re the man I ought to ask?”

At this point, he produced a wad of bills from his money belt. He did it slickly and fast, like a magician producing a dove from a waistcoat.

Crutchfield nodded, and smiled with something more than greed. “I’m the man you ought to ask. And I even know which operative you’re asking after, though you’ve got a thing or two wrong. I guess that makes you Croggon Hainey, don’t it? One of the Macon Madmen, ain’t you?”

Hainey refused to look startled. Instead he said, “Good guess, I suppose—though truth is, I’m an easy man to recognize, even if you’ve only heard of me in passing. And tell me why you know it, and why you grin like that when you say it. ” He peeled off a ten dollar bill and placed it on the rail beside Crutchfield’s elbow.

Crutchfield slid his hand along the rail and palmed the bill.

He said, “Did you know Pinkerton—the big man, not the agency—used to be a Union spy? He’s retired from it now, obviously. Got better things to do with his time, or maybe he’s just getting old. A lot of those old guys who worked hard at the start of the war, if they ain’t dead yet, they’re too old for the war game. ”

“I did not know that,” Hainey said with impatience. “But I’m not sure what it’s got to do with me. ”

“Hold your horses, man. I’m getting to it. So the big man invites a new operative, somebody from his old line of work. ”

“Another spy?”

Crutchfield nodded. “That’s right. But not a Union spy—a Rebel spy. A rather famous one, if you see what I’m saying. ”

“I’m afraid I don’t. I could name a whole handful of Southern spies, so you’re going to have to be more specific. ” He fiddled with the roll of money for a moment before asking, “Is it someone who had a beef with me? Maybe someone from the Macon crowd?”

The informant shook his head and cocked it at the cash. Hainey unspooled another ten and set it down where he’d placed the first.

“It’s nobody you know, I don’t think. But it’s somebody with an agenda. The Rebs don’t want her no more, so she’s got something to prove by bringing you in; and that’s why she got the assignment. ”

The captain didn’t hide his confusion. “What do you mean, they don’t want her no more? Pinkerton sent a woman to chase me down?”

“Not just any woman—Belle Boyd. ”

“Belle…oh now Jesus Christ in a rain barrel. That’s a tall tale you’re spinning, and I don’t believe it for a second. ”

Crutchfield shrugged. “Believe me or don’t believe me, that’s what I heard, my hand to God. This is her first job, so it’s a loaded one. ”

“Loaded,” Hainey agreed. “But not with good sense. I’m just baffled,” he said, scratching his head. “And maybe a little insulted, that they send out a woman to bring down a man like me. ”

“I wouldn’t take it like that, not yet. Pinkerton doesn’t hire folks as a joke—and he doesn’t hire fools, and he doesn’t throw his operatives away on suicide missions. He wouldn’t have sent her after you if he didn’t think she could bring you in. ”

While Hainey pondered this, Simeon stepped in and took another ten.

He set it on the rail, waited for Crutchfield to collect it, and said, “All of that’s real interesting, no doubt. But why don’t you give us a hint about who hired the Pinks in the first place? They wouldn’t send anyone to nab a runaway without being told to, or paid to. ”

“You have a point,” he said. “And I don’t know much about the gig, except that there’s a ship called Clementine that’s moving supplies—and it’s being hounded by a Negro captain in a bird that’s got no name. ”

Hainey bobbed his head slowly up and down, sorting through the important bits and settling on his next words. He lifted the money roll, and unwrapped half its bulk while the eyes of Crutchfield Akers did their best to remain unimpressed.

“You can have this,” Hainey told him, setting the curled stack on its side. “All of it, no problem and no trouble, if you can answer me one more question and answer it true. Except,” he held up a finger. “If it turns out you’ve lied to me, I’ll be back, and I’ll take it back out of your skin. We understand each other?”

“We understand each other,” the informant swore.