"The plot was undoubtedly like many others we hear about — chiefly wishful thinking inspired by barroom bravery. Nevertheless, your loyalty and diligence have been noted and commended by Mr. Davis. He — Is something wrong?"
Orry's tight expression answered that. The government still didn't believe his story. Then and there, he decided to take a step he had only considered until now. Using personal funds, he would hire an agent to carry out a plan he had in mind. He would do it right away.
He forced himself to say, "No. Please go on."
"I have given you the sense of the President's message." Manicured hands folded, the secretary oozed sincerity. "Now I have one or two questions of a personal nature. Are you content with your post in the War Department?" When Orry hesitated, unsure of the purpose of the question, Benjamin prompted him with, "Please be frank. It will go no further."
"Well, then — the answer's no. I think we both know the likely outcome of this war." He expected no agreement with that and got none. "I hate to sit out the final months authorizing passes for prostitutes and monitoring the misdeeds of a martinet."
"Ah, yes, Winder. Are you saying you'd like field duty, then?"
"I've been considering it. Major General Pickett offered me a place on his division staff."
"Poor Pickett. Never have I seen a man so transformed by a single event." Benjamin sounded sincere but immediately slipped back into his official mode. After a slight clearing of his throat, he said, "There is one other subject which I regret I must discuss with you. Your sister's accusation against your charming wife."
The words slid into him like a stiletto of ice. He had been waiting for the matter to come up in some fashion. He had agonized over the best way to deal with it and reached a decision that pained him because it went against his conscience. But Madeline mattered more.
He sat very erect now, his posture a kind of challenge. "Yes? What about it?"
"To put it to you squarely — is it true?"
"No."
Benjamin showed no sign of being relieved, no reaction of any kind. He continued to study his visitor. Am I such a transparent liar? Orry thought.
"You realize I was compelled to ask the question on behalf of the administration," Benjamin said. "The cabinet — indeed, it's fair to say most of the Confederacy — is experiencing a terrible schism on the matter of enlisting our Negroes in the army. The mere statement of the idea drives some of our most influential people to the point of incoherence. So you can see the enormous potential for disruption and embarrassment if it were found that the wife of a high War Department official —"
He could stand no more. "Damn it, Judah, what about Madeline's embarrassment? What about the disruption of her life?"
Unruffled, Benjamin met the attack. "I can appreciate her feelings, certainly. But the charge has implications far beyond the personal. If it were true, it could taint the credibility of the entire government. Mr. Davis, you see, refuses to consider the enlistment of nonwhite —"
"I know how Mr. Davis feels," Orry said, rising. His loud voice momentarily stopped the sleepy conversations outside. "With all due respect, the President's views aren't the issue. An accusation is the issue. My sister made her statement for one reason. She holds a long-standing grudge against me."
Like a prosecutor, Benjamin said, "Why?"
"I see no reason to go into that. It's a family matter."
"And you maintain that this so-called grudge is Mrs. Huntoon's motive for saying what she did? Her sole motive?"
"That's right. May I leave now?"
"Orry, calm yourself. It's better that you hear unhappy news from a friend. I am your friend; please believe that." The supple hand opened outward. "Do sit down again."
"I'll stand, thank you."
Benjamin sighed. There passed a few seconds of silence.
"To minimize potential embarrassment for all concerned, the President requests that Mrs. Main leave Richmond as soon as practicable."
Orry's hand closed on the back of the visitor's chair. His knuckles were the color of chalk. "To keep the administration untouched by the tar brush, is that it? You don't believe my answer —"
"I most certainly do. But I am an official of this government, and it remains my duty to accede to the President's wishes, not question them."
"So you can keep your job and enjoy your sherry and your anchovy paste while the Confederacy collapses?"
The olive cheeks lost color. Benjamin's voice dropped, sounding all the more deadly, somehow, because of a small, chill smile.
"I shall pretend I heard no such remark from you. The President expects compliance with his request within a reasonable length of —"
"His order, isn't that what you mean?"
"It is an order courteously framed as a request."
"I thought so. Good day."
"My dear Orry, you must not hold me personally responsible for —"
Slam went the door, well before he finished.
Around noon, Orry's wild anger moderated. He was again able to concentrate, perform routine duties, and answer questions from his colleagues with some coherence. Seddon passed Orry's desk on his way out to dine, but the secretary refused to meet Orry's gaze. He knows what Davis is demanding. He probably knew before Judah told me. Instantly, Orry made up his mind to ask Pickett to make good on his offer.
Orry was not in doubt about Madeline's reaction. If they discussed the decision at all, he must be circumspect. Present it as something under consideration, not final. That would spare her worry. Anyway, the first priority wasn't the transfer, but proving to Judah, to Seddon — to the President himself — that the conspiracy was real.
He glanced at a corner desk occupied by a young civilian, Josea Pilbeam, who was handicapped with a club foot. Pilbeam, a bachelor, had undertaken several questionable assignments for the department in the past year. Orry walked over, greeted him affably, and made an appointment to speak with him that evening. Off the premises.
For the rest of the day, although he continued to scrawl his signature on passes and scan the daily quota of self-serving reports from General Winder, his mind wrestled with the presidential fiat and what he should do about it. His first reaction, born of insulted honor, was to dig in and refuse to comply.
On the other hand, suppose Madeline did remain in Richmond. She would be ostracized. And with Grant settling in at Petersburg to the frequent sound of rumbling guns, Richmond was no longer a safe place. Orry definitely didn't want his wife in the city when it surrendered. He believed all signs pointed to such a capitulation relatively soon.
So, much as he hated to admit it, he knew Madeline would be better off — safer — if she left.
Which raised another problem. Where could she go? The most logical answer struck him as far from the best or easiest. He thought carefully on it and by late afternoon had devised a plan that seemed to offer the least risk.
When the office closed, he and Josea Pilbeam left together. At a quiet table in the Spotswood bar, Orry went immediately to the point.
"I suspect my sister Ashton — Mrs. James Huntoon — of treasonous activity. I want to hire you to watch her house on Grace Street in the evenings and follow her if she leaves. I want to know where she goes and a description of whoever she sees. You can report to me each morning. I know it'll tax you to work all day, then stay up most of the night. But you're young and fit" — eyes on the foam on his beer, the clerk scraped his three-inch shoe sole back and forth under the table — "and for good work, carried out in the strictest confidence, I'll pay you from my own pocket. I'll pay you well. Ten dollars a night."
Pilbeam drank some beer. "Thanks for the offer, Colonel. But I have to say no."
"Good Lord, why? You've never objected to a little spying before."