The Wrecker (Isaac Bell 2)

“We’re heading back up to the train,” Marion called. “Mr. Hennessy is tired.”

They thanked their hosts and said their good-byes. Charles Kincaid came with them, giving Franklin Mowery an arm to lean on. Isaac took Marion’s hand as they walked through the rain to the foot of the steep freight line.

She whispered, “I am going to plead weariness from my long journey and slip off to bed.”

“Not too weary, I hope, for a knock on your door?”

“If you don‘t, I’ll knock on yours.”

They boarded the Snake Line passenger car in which they had arrived. Three engines in front and two in back huffed them slowly up the steep switchbacks to the plateau where Hennessy’s special was parked on its siding, windows glowing in welcome.

“Come on in, gents,” Hennessy ordered. “Brandy and cigars.”

“I thought you were tired,” said Lillian.

“Tired of businessmen blathering,” Hennessy shot back. “Ladies, there’s champagne for you in the diner while the gents have a smoke.”

“You’re not getting rid of me,” said Lillian.

Mrs. Comden stayed too, quietly needlepointing in a corner chair.

Marion Morgan said good night and headed back to her stateroom.

Isaac Bell, waiting a decent interval for propriety’s sake, continued to observe Kincaid closely.

PHILIP DOW LOOKED OUT the curtain when he heard someone enter the stateroom car from the front vestibule. He glimpsed a beautiful woman walking toward the porter’s station. She wore a red gown and a full necklace of red rubies. Such displays of wealth usually raised a visceral anger in the union man. But he was taken by her happy smile. Women as beautiful as she, with her straw-blond hair, long, graceful neck, narrow waist, and coral-sea green eyes always smiled like they were congratulating themselves on their looks. This one was different. She smiled with happiness.

He hoped she would not stop at Marion Morgan’s door. He dreaded having to kill such a lovely creature. But she did stop and enter Stateroom 4. He had never killed a woman. He didn’t want to start now. Particularly this one. But he was not eager to meet the hangman either.

Quickly, he revised his plan of attack. Instead of waiting for her to open the door when Isaac Bell knocked, he would strike the instant that Bell raised his hand to knock. Bell would not be as distracted as he would be a moment later, stepping into her arms. The detective would be more alert to defending himself, but that was the price Dow was willing to pay for not killing her. He shoved his revolver in his belt so he could grab it quickly if Bell managed to dodge the sap. A gunshot would complicate escape, but he would pay that price too not to kill the woman. Unless she gave him no choice.

37

ISAAC BELL WATCHED SENATOR KINCAID’S MOUTH WRINKLE with distaste as Lillian Hennessy demonstrated that she was a modern woman. Not only did she refuse to leave the gentlemen to their cigars, she lighted a cigarette herself, telling her father, “If President Roosevelt’s daughter can smoke, so can I.”

Hennessy was no less annoyed than the Senator. “I will not have that grandstanding, opportunistic, self-promoting blowhard’s name uttered in my railcar.”

“You should count yourself lucky that I only smoke. Alice Roosevelt is also known to appear at White House parties wrapped in a python.”

Mrs. Comden looked up from her needlepoint. “Osgood, may I presume that you will not permit snakes in your railcar?”

“If Roosevelt’s for snakes, I’m agin”em.“

Senator Kincaid laughed heartily.

Bell had already observed that the Senator assumed his KINCAID FOR PRESIDENT button had raised his stature in Hennessy’s eyes. He also noticed that Hennessy appeared to be recalculating the Senator’s potential.

“Tell me, Kincaid,” the railroad president asked in all seriousness, “what would you do if you were elected president?”

“Learn on the job,” Kincaid answered boldly. “Just like you learned railroading.”

Mrs. Comden spoke up, again. “Mr. Hennessy did not learn railroading. He teaches it.”

“I stand corrected.” Kincaid smiled stiffly.

“Mr. Hennessy is empirizing the railroads of America.”

Hennessy shushed her with a smile. “Mrs. Comden has a way with words. She studied in Europe, you know.”