The Whiskey Rebel

“Enough!” she called. “I will tell you, only you must not say I did. He promised to hurt me if I did not remain quiet.”

“I shall protect you with my life,” I said, “if you but tell me.”

“It was a very uncivilized-looking man,” she said, “with a gray beard and long hair. He gave his name as Reynolds. He paid me twenty-five dollars and said he would burn down my house if I did not do as he says.”

“Did he say who he was or why he wished me gone?”

She shook her head. “No, but I believed him. He seemed to me like the sort of man who might a house burn.”

I nodded. “Be so kind as to give me the twenty-five dollars. I think I’ve earned it.”

“I have already spent it,” she said.

“Then give me a different twenty-five dollars.”

“I have not got it.”

“Perhaps she could apply it to what you owe,” suggested Leonidas.

It was not as good as having twenty-five dollars in my pocket, but it would have to do. I turned to Mrs. Deisher. “I accept those terms. Now, let’s not forget about my bath.”

She stood and shook her head. “It don’t make sense.”

“What is that?”

“He say, this Reynolds, that he throw you out behalf of Secretary Hamilton, but he must lie, for it is Secretary Hamilton that make me take you in.”

I felt something, like a dog catching a familiar scent in the air. Leonidas turned quickly, but I caught his eye and gave him a most subtle shake of the head. Long ago I learned that when someone inadvertently stumbles upon something important, you do not draw attention to it. “How interesting,” I said, in order to say something. “Now to the bath.” There could be no further progress without washing off the accumulated filth of my trials.

At last I was able to remove the grime and humiliation of the past two nights. The warm water was a balm, the clean clothes as good as a full night’s sleep. Once I had cleaned myself and had Leonidas shave me, I felt free to examine my reflection in the mirror that hung over my fireplace. In truth, I was not entirely displeased. My face was a bit contused. There were bruises and a few wounds, which were healing far more slowly than they had in my youth, but in my newly scrubbed state, these now bespoke manly combat and not impoverished desperation.

Able to enjoy the calm of my room, I sat in a well-padded chair near the window in the fading afternoon light. Across from me, Leonidas put away the shaving things. Once finished, he took one of the chairs and gave me a meaningful look. “Perhaps,” he said, “it is time to consider your next move. Do you truly wish to squander your time attempting to find Mr. Pearson?”

“Of course I intend to find him.”

He leaned forward in his serious way. “Ethan, you should think about this. You have little money right now, and I understand that you care for Mrs. Pearson, but caring does not mean you must sacrifice yourself to her memory. If Mr. Lavien does not wish your help, perhaps the matter is in hand.”

“To begin with, I would never turn my back on an old commitment.”

“I am not convinced of that,” he said, with much bitterness. “I’ve seen it happen.”

I was not about to get dragged into another conversation about his emancipation. “On top of that, I have been personally injured. Men have sought to intimidate and harm me, to have me cast from my home. I ca

“What of it?”

“Don’t you see? If I can find Pearson first, if I can beat Lavien at his own game, Hamilton will bring me back into government service. I will be of use again, Leonidas. I ca

“How are you going to best a man like Mr. Lavien, who has his own impressive skills, is younger than you, and enjoys the protection and power of the government?”

“I believe we shall do so not by pursuing the obvious but by pursuing lines of inquiry that are ours exclusively. What do we know that Lavien does not?”

“We don’t know what Lavien knows, since he won’t share anything.”

“But we can operate on certain assumptions. Let us assume, first of all, that Lavien and Hamilton don’t know about the Irishman, they certainly don’t know about the note from Mrs. Pearson, and it seems to me likely that they don’t know about this Reynolds man pretending to be one of their own. Lavien has been looking for Pearson for nearly a week now, but he does not seem close to finding him; otherwise he would not have followed Mrs. Pearson to my rooms. I’m sure he is going about it the usual way-speaking to his family, his friends, his business associates-but this method has yielded him nothing. We shall try it my way, Leonidas, the old Fleet and Saunders method, and we shall see who finds the man first.”

“And what does that mean?” he asked.

I took out my stolen timepiece and checked what o’clock it was. “Let’s return to see Hamilton. I have an important question for him.”

Leonidas shook his head. “He won’t like it.”

“I know,” I said. “It’s why we need to find a newspaper first. I will require something to persuade the secretary to be amiable.”

“A newspaper,” he repeated.

I was on my feet, reaching for my hat. “You were not so privileged as to be in my company when I served the nation during the war, Leonidas.”

“No, but I have heard the stories,” he said, his tone implying that they were somehow tedious. I must have misunderstood him.

“This is your lucky day, then. Now you will, at last, see how business is done.”

It had surprised me how quickly Hamilton had seen me that morning. It did not surprise me that he made us wait well over an hour that afternoon. We sat in a vestibule outside the front office, which was, in turn, outside Hamilton ’s sanctum. Anxious-looking clerks hurried in and out, avoiding eye contact with us. It was daylight, albeit of a gray and cloudy sort, when we entered the treasury buildings, and darkness fell while we awaited Hamilton ’s pleasure. A pair of young Negroes came around lighting candles and lamps, and as they passed through our room they nodded at Leonidas, who nodded back. Did they know one another, or was this merely the recognition of race?

At last a clerk ushered us into the Treasury Secretary’s office, which in the darkness had a far more dour and constricted feel. Hamilton sat at his desk and hovered over his oil-lit work like an angry bear in its cave. “I had not expected to see you so soon,” he said.

“And you do not sound happy to do so. No matter, we won’t waste your time. Just a quick question and we’ll be on our way.”

“I believe I was clear,” he said. “I do not want you inquiring into Pearson’s disappearance.”

“And what makes you think I am doing that?”

“Look at you. You are like a dog on a hunt.”

“Only one question,” I said.

“No, Saunders, I’ll not play games with you. You may wait there as long as you like, but I’ll not start answering your questions.” He turned to his paper and began writing.

“I anticipated this,” I said. “Leonidas, please hand me that newspaper I asked you to bring along. I expected we would have to wait, and so I brought reading material. It is the National Gazette, which you mentioned to me earlier.”

Hamilton looked up, clearly unhappy that I would read a paper whose single purpose was to attack him.

“I do love this paper,” I said. “And its editor, Mr. Philip Freneau. Clever fellow. Now that I think on it, I have an excellent idea for an article. Take a letter, Leonidas: Dear Mr. Freneau: You may not be aware of this stu