The Chase (Isaac Bell 1)

“Cromwell probably offered him a king’s ransom,” said Bell.

“My agents at the prison reported that Weber left in his automobile with his wife for a shopping trip to the city.”

“Not the first time Cromwell disguised himself as a woman,” Bell murmured angrily. “He no doubt shed the dress once they were out of sight of San Quentin and before they reached the ferryboat.”

“Where does that leave us?” inquired Curtis.

“I telegraphed Colonel Danzler, chief of the United States Criminal Investigation Department. He’s arranging for a federal judge to swear out a warrant for Cromwell’s arrest that cannot be overridden by city or state judicial system. As soon as it is in our hands, we can take Cromwell out of circulation for good.”

“That will take at least four days by rail,” said Bronson. “What if he attempts to flee the country? We have no legal means to stop him.”

“We had no legal means to grab him in San Diego,” retorted Bell. “We’ll snatch him again and keep him on ice in a secret location until the paperwork arrives.”

Bronson looked doubtful. “Before we can put our hands on Cromwell again, his pals the mayor, police chief, and county sheriff will protect him with an army of policemen and deputies armed to the teeth. My seven agents will be outnumbered twenty to one if they attempt to seize him.”

“Cromwell has that kind of influence?” asked Curtis.

“The degree of corruption in San Francisco makes the Tammany Hall political machine of New York City look like a convent,” said Bronson. “Cromwell has done more than his share to keep city officials fat and rich.”

Bell smiled a hard, canny smile. “We’ll have our own army,” he said quietly. “Colonel Danzler will call out the army regiment that’s stationed at the Presidio, if I request it.”

“We may need them sooner than you think,” said Bronson. “If Cromwell cleans out the cash in his bank and charters another train, he’ll be over the border into Mexico free as a bird before we can lift a finger.”

“He’s right,” agreed Curtis. “As it stands, we’re helpless. We can’t touch him. By the time Danzler can contact the Presidio’s commander and order troops called out and marched into the city, it will be too late. Cromwell’s graft will have greased his way out of town.”

Bell leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. “Not necessarily,” he said slowly.

“What’s going through that devious mind?” asked Curtis.

“Suppose the president of the United States requests the president of the Southern Pacific Railroad not to charter a train to Cromwell?”

Bronson looked at him. “Is that possible?”

Bell nodded. “Colonel Danzler has great influence in Washington. I was told by Van Dorn that he and President Roosevelt are very close. They fought side by side at San Juan Hill in the war. I think it’s safe to say he could persuade the president to go along.”

“And if Cromwell charters a ship?” probed Bronson.

“Then a United States warship will be sent to stop the ship at sea, take Cromwell off, and return him to San Francisco. By that time, we’ll have the necessary warrants for his arrest and trial.”

“It sounds like you have all the bases covered,” Bronson said admiringly.

“Cromwell is a slippery customer,” said Bell. “If there is a way to slip through our net, he’ll think of it.” He paused to look up at a clock on the wall. “Four thirty-five. I have a dinner date at six o’clock.”

“Marion Morgan?” Curtis asked with a sly smile. “It strikes me that besides her keeping tabs on Cromwell, you two have a thing going.”

Bell nodded. “She’s an exquisite lady.” He rose to his feet and slipped on his coat. “She’s fixing dinner at her place.”

Bronson winked at Curtis. “Our friend is a lucky man.”

“I’ve lost track of time,” said Bell. “What day is it?”

“Tuesday, April seventeenth,” answered Curtis. Then he added humorously, “The year is 1906.”

“I’m aware of the year,” Bell said as he stepped through the door. “See you all in the morning.”

Sadly, one of the three men in the room would never see tomorrow.

MARGARET STOPPED the Mercedes under the porte cochere that sheltered vehicles at the front door of the mansion before they passed into the courtyard beyond. Since picking her brother up in front of city hall, she had driven him to the bank, where he had spent two hours locked in his office. When he emerged, they rode to Nob Hill in silence. Their chauffeur came from the carriage house and drove the car inside. The instant they stepped into the foyer, Margaret pulled off her hat and spun it across the floor, glaring at her brother with fire in her eye.