“Torpedo boats?” I echoed. “What are those?”
“Those,”Mr. Roosevelt answered, “are the reason that Lieutenant Kimball is here, Stevie. Small, lightly armored craft, capable of remarkable speeds. I cruised in one from Oyster Bay to Newport a few weeks ago, and I don’t mind telling you all-it was bully! Like riding a high-mettled horse-agile, quick, capable of striking without warning and then disappearing.” He turned to the Doctor. “Just the sort of thing, it seemed to me, that your business tonight requires, Kreizler.”
The Doctor considered that idea. “Yes-yes, the ability to arrive suddenly and depart at high speed will be a great asset. And where are these craft at the moment?”
“We have several out at the navy yard,” Lieutenant Kimball answered. “They require relatively small crews, but more men can be taken on, if we feel we need them.”
“The more the better, if we’re going up against the Dusters,” Mr. Moore said. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance these ‘torpedoes’ can reach a few blocks inland, Lieutenant?”
“I’m afraid not, Mr. Moore,” Lieutenant Kimball answered with a smile. “Once ashore, we’ll have to rely on ourselves.”
“Yes,” Mr. Moore said, not very enthusiastically. “I was afraid of that.”
“Take heart, John!” Mr. Roosevelt said, thumping his old friend on the back the way he had Lieutenant Kim-ball. Mr. Moore, though, didn’t look too pleased by the action. “Why, we can put three score sailors against those-”
“Teddy,” Mr. Moore interrupted, using the childhood name what Mr. Roosevelt was known to dislike. “It’s going to be a hell of an evening, and if you start slapping me now I won’t be able to stand up by the time it’s all over.”
“Ha! You don’t fool me with that talk. I know the true measure of your abilities, Moore-I saw them amply displayed on our last adventure together!” Walking over to Miss Howard, Mr. Roosevelt took her hands in his warmly. “And you, Sara-that dress may be plain, but I’ll wager it has room enough for a certain pearl-handled Colt of yours!”
“Along with a considerable supply of cartridges,” Miss Howard replied with a nod. “So don’t anyone think of jeopardizing themselves by keeping a special eye out for me.”
“As if we don’t know that,”Lucius said, shaking his head.
“Ah, and my Maccabees!” Mr. Roosevelt said, moving over to the Isaacsons. “Kimball, you will never meet two men who combine bravery and brains more than the detective sergeants, here. I was called a lot of things for bringing Jews onto the police force, but I stand by the decision. Why, if we had six or seven men like these in Naval Intelligence, I daresay-ah.” Realizing that he was about to say too much about his business in Washington, Mr. Roosevelt smiled and raised a hand. “But I’m straying from the affairs of the moment. Cyrus!” he went on, approaching my big friend. “What about you-will you rely on those fists alone, or will you take along something a little more substantial?”
“Fists’ll suit me fine, sir,” Cyrus answered with a smile. “I owe a couple of those Dusters a few good licks.”
“And you’ll get them in, I don’t doubt it for an instant. You know, we must go a few rounds in the ring, someday, you and I!” Curling up his arms, Mr. Roosevelt took a few light jabs in Cyrus’s direction. “It would be fine sport, don’t you think?”
“I’m at your disposal, sir,” Cyrus replied, bowing a little and still smiling.
“First rate,” Mr. Roosevelt answered. “That’s bully. Well, now, we’re expected at the yard! The crews have been alerted and are standing by. Everyone prepared? Good! I have a carriage waiting, Doctor, one that can accommodate most of us, and perhaps the rest can travel in one of yours.”
“I fear cabs will be necessary,” the Doctor answered, “as we’ve had no time to retrieve our horses from the boarding stables.”
“Well, then, who’s to ride with the lieutenant and myself?” Mr. Roosevelt asked. “What about you, Stevie? Like to hear more stories about the wondrous weapons Lieutenant Kimball dreams of loosing on the world?”
I looked quickly and eagerly to the Doctor, who nodded, knowing, I think, how much I did want to go with the navy man, and why. The discussion of weapons and destruction, far from thrilling me in any boyish way, was speaking to a dark, determined desire, one what’d been planted by Kat’s death and had been growing all day: the hope that we might finally be able to strike at Libby Hatch in a way what even she wouldn’t be prepared for.
“Yes, sir,” I told Mr. Roosevelt. “I’d like that.”
“Good! Kimball, I appoint young Taggert your aide for this operation. Don’t underestimate him-several officers of this city’s police force made that mistake, and some of them still can’t walk correctly.” As Mr. Roosevelt turned to the Doctor, his expression grew more serious. “I hope you’ll ride with us, too, Doctor,” he said; then he looked to Miss Howard. “And you, Sara, as well-for I confess I’d like to know more about this devilish woman we’re chasing.”
With the thick gray layers of storm clouds what’d hung over the city that day now breaking up into separate black clusters that stood out boldly against a moonlit sky, we all filed out of the house and moved to the corner of Second Avenue, followed by Mr. Roosevelt’s big landau, what had its two canopies pulled up against the weather. Once we’d secured two hansoms for Mr. Moore, the detective sergeants, and Cyrus, the rest of us got into the landau behind Mr. Roosevelt and Lieutenant Kimball, and before long conversation was filling the roomy shell under the canopies. The Doctor, Miss Howard, and Mr. Roosevelt spoke about Libby Hatch and the case in quiet tones what showed consideration for my feelings, consideration I appreciated greatly. As for the amiable Lieutenant Kimball, he seemed so determined to keep me entertained that I wondered if maybe Mr. Roosevelt-who obviously knew at least the basic facts of what I’d been through that day-hadn’t given him instructions to try to give my spirits a lift. If so, the lieutenant followed his orders admirably. From a description of all the wondrous things what he expected to take place on the seas in the next ten or twenty years, he moved on to tales of foreign lands he’d served in, and of the strange people he’d met there: stories that, while they couldn’t and didn’t really cheer me up as such, at least diverted my attention from the bleak thoughts what were still standing ready to flood back into my soul.
We took the Brooklyn Bridge across the lower portion of the East River, then made a hard left and traveled along the waterfront until we reached Wallabout Bay and the entrance to the great maze of dry docks, piers, cranes, railroad tracks, ordnance docks, foundries, and construction sheds what was the Brooklyn Navy Yard. The place was pretty much a New York institution, dating back to the beginning of the century and as familiar to natives of the city as any part of the harbor; but for some reason it looked very different to me that night. Maybe it was just my mood, I thought to myself, or maybe it was visiting the place in the company of the man who, for all practical purposes, was the most important naval official in the country at that moment. But very soon I realized that neither of these was the real explanation:
It was the lights-there were lights on everywhere and, underneath the lights, scores of men hard at work. All this at near ten o'clock on a Monday night. And as I noticed the men, I noticed what it was that they were working on: armored warships-some of them half built, some near ready to sail, all of them big and impressive-were crammed into every slip and corner of the joint.