The Wrecker (Isaac Bell 2)

“I am an accountant employed by American States Bank.”

Bell swung his feet off the bunk. “You work for my father.”

“Yes, sir,” Adler said proudly. “Mr. Bell specifically asked for me to take on this audit.”

“What have you got?”

“We have uncovered the name of the secret owner of the Union Pier and Caisson Company of St. Louis.”

“Go on!”

“We should talk in private, Mr. Bell.”

“These are Van Dorn agents. You can say your piece here.”

Adler clutched his briefcase closer. “I apologize to you gentlemen, and to you Mr. Bell, but I am under strict orders from my boss, Mr. Ebenezer Bell, president of the American States Bank, to speak to you and only you.”

“Excuse us,” said Bell. The detectives left. “Who owns Union Pier?” he demanded.

“A shell corporation established by a Berlin investment house.”

“Schane and Simon.”

“Yes, sir. You are well informed.”

“We’re getting there. But who owns the shell corporation?”

Adler lowered his voice to a whisper. “It is wholly controlled by Senator Charles Kincaid.”

“You’re sure?”

Adler hesitated only a second. “Not beyond all doubt, but reasonably sure Senator Kincaid is their client. Schane and Simon supplied the money. But there are numerous indications that they did it on his behalf.”

“That implies that the Wrecker is well connected in Germany.”

Adler answered, “That was your father’s conclusion, too.”

Bell wasted no time congratulating himself on the discovery that Kincaid likely served the Wrecker just as he had suspected. He ordered an immediate investigation of every outside contractor hired by the Southern Pacific Company to work on the Cascades Cutoff. And he wired a warning to Archie Abbott to keep a close eye on the Senator.

“TELEGRAPH, MR. ABBOTT.”

“Thank you, Mr. Meadows.”

Archie Abbott broke into a broad grin when he decoded the message from Isaac Bell. He combed his red hair in the reflection of a railcar window and straightened his snappy bow tie. Then he marched straight to Osgood Hennessy’s private office with a fine excuse to call on Miss Lillian, who was wearing a ruby velvet blouse with a fitted waist, an intriguing row of pearl buttons down the front, and a riveting flow of fabric over her hips.

The Old Man was not in a friendly mood this morning. “What do you want, Abbott?”

Lillian was watching closely, gauging how Archie handled her father. She would not be disappointed. Archie had no trouble with fathers. Mothers were his weakness.

“I want you to tell me everything you know about outside contractors working on the cutoff,” Abbott said.

“We already know about Union Pier and Caisson,” Hennessy replied heavily. “Otherwise, several down in Cascade. Purveyors, hotels, laundries. Why do you ask?”

“Isaac doesn’t want a repeat of the pier problem and neither do I. We’re checking into all the outside contractors. Do I understand correctly that a contractor was hired by the Southern Pacific to supply crossties for the cutoff?”

“Of course. When we started building the cutoff, I arranged to stockpile crossties on this side of the Canyon Bridge so we’d be ready to jump as soon as we crossed.”

“Where is the mill?”