“Unfortunately for you, it was revealed to me before you were ready.”
“I’m sorry about that, sir. But based on what we have here, I’m sure you’ll agree with me about the significance of all this.”
“It’s certainly significant, Colonel-it’s a significant blunder on your part.”
“Again, sir, I’m very sorry. Please tell me how we can get past the blunder and do right by this government.”
“I’ve already taken care of that. I’m ordering the release of the men you’ve been holding.”
“You’re letting them go?”
“They’ve committed no crime. You thought they looked suspicious, so you followed them on a tour of Washington and found a few barrels of blasting powder on a canal boat. I don’t consider this compelling proof of a sinister plot. Colonel Locke will see to their release.”
“It’s enough blasting powder to take down half the Capitol!”
“Or to use in a mine. We can’t go around arresting people on mere hunches.”
“This is a grave mistake. Those men are part of a broader conspiracy. They were in contact with Violet Grenier, a known secessionist…”
“Don’t get me started on her again,” interrupted Scott, pointing his finger aggressively at Rook. “Their contact with one of Washington’s society ladies convinces me of nothing except their good taste. Violet Grenier hosts parties for members of the Lincoln administration and Congress. She is an acquaintance of mine too. Are you going to toss me into the cellar of some building as well?”
Rook was flabbergasted to hear this. For a moment, he was tempted to tear the insignia off his uniform and quit. He could tell Scott that he was done trying to protect the president, only to have his best efforts blocked by an old man who would fail to see a threat if a gun were pointed directly at Lincoln’s head. Yet Rook knew that if he exploded in anger here, he would make a bad situation even worse. He resolved not to lose his temper.
“Tell me,” said Scott in a calmer voice, “what do you think you have learned from your surveillance of Grenier?”
Rook wondered if the general was giving him an opening. He described what he had learned: the discovery and pursuit of Davis and Stephens, the monitoring of Grenier, and the observation of her guests as they came and went from her home and moved around Washington. Scott listened to the report without interjecting.
When Rook was done, the general shook his head. “So you’re spending your time following people into bookstores?”
“The way to uncover a conspiracy is to track down every lead, even the ones that seem trivial.”
Scott shook his head and let out a deep sigh. “I ought to fire you for insubordination. I appreciate your enthusiasm, but you must stop the surveillance immediately. Take the rest of the day off. Get some sleep and come back in the morning. If I’m in a good mood, I’ll let you keep your job.”
Clark opened his eyes when he heard the voices. They did not belong to Rook or Springfield, which meant that for the first time since he had started guarding the prisoners in the basement of the Treasury, someone else was approaching-many people, judging from the number of footsteps.
“They must be this way,” said one of the men he could not yet see. They were getting closer. This sounded bad.
Clark jumped out of the small cot in the hallway. There was not much to do on duty, so he had spent a lot of time napping. He was awake instantly, aware that he was posted to this place for a moment precisely like this one. The main threat did not come from the prisoners, who were safely locked up. It came from their discovery by others. Clark needed to prevent it.
“Over here,” said an officer as he turned into a corridor and spotted Clark, who saw that the officer was a colonel. Five soldiers followed behind him. “What are you doing down here, Corporal?”
His confident tone suggested that he already knew the answer to his own question. Clark nevertheless pointed to a pile of boxes in the hallway. “Trying to find some old records,” he said. “There’s supposed to be some information about the construction of the Treasury. It’s wanted for defensive information.”
“Is that so? Don’t you think this is a strange place to store such valuable documents?”
“I just do what I’m told, sir. They haven’t been found elsewhere.”
“Who sent you down here?”
“Colonel Rook.”
“Ah, yes. Well, Corporal, my name is Colonel Locke, and I’m down here in this godforsaken place to find something too. Do you know what I might be looking for?”
“No, sir.”
“Are you sure about that? I would hate for you to be in a position that requires you to lie to an officer. You may be interested to know that Colonel Rook is in an enormous amount of trouble.”
Clark swallowed hard.
“Why don’t you just tell me where they are?”
Clark realized that it was useless to maintain the ruse. “Come this way, sir,” he said, resigned to defeat. He led Locke and the other soldiers through a door that led to a short passage lined by several other doors. “They’re in here,” he said.
Locke pointed to a door. “Open it,” he said.
Clark removed a key from his pocket. Inside the small room, Davis sat in a corner.
Locke entered the room. “It’s your lucky day,” he said. “You’re free to go.”
After crossing the bridge into Maryland, Mazorca turned south on a dirt road that followed the course of the Potomac River as it flowed toward the Chesapeake Bay. He passed Fort Washington around the middle of the day. Just as Fort Sumter was supposed to protect Charleston from attack, Fort Washington was supposed to defend the capital city from enemy warships that sailed upriver. The entrance gate was closed, and there did not appear to be anybody inside the fort’s walls. The fort was not ready to defend anything.
A little to the south, a path broke off from the main road and tunneled through trees and bushes to the river. Mazorca stopped his horse and looked over his shoulder. He saw nobody. For a long minute he sat motionless, listening for the sound of anyone who approached. He heard nothing. Satisfied that he was alone, Mazorca followed the trail as it sloped down to a muddy shoreline. A small rowboat was pulled out of the brown water and tied to a tree.
Mazorca smiled. He had planned to spend the afternoon searching the riverside for a boat, and here was one in the first place he had looked. He dismounted his horse and examined the boat. Except for a couple of oars, it was empty. The boat was weather-beaten, but it looked seaworthy. It would suit his purposes well enough.
He scanned the river and saw a single ship about a mile downriver, headed away from him. There was no way anybody on board could spot him. Across the river sat a columned house. Even from a distance, Mazorca could see that its white paint was peeling. The roof needed shingling. A lawn in front was ragged and unkempt. Mazorca realized that this must be Mount Vernon. Its famous owner had been dead since 1799. It appeared as though nobody had taken care of the home in decades. Mazorca was not surprised to see it in a state of disrepair. In the city, Washington’s monument was incomplete. In the country, his old home was falling apart. This was how America honored its heroes. No wonder the young nation was coming undone.
Mazorca fixed his horse to a tree. Then he removed a saddlebag and placed it in the boat. Next he untied the rope that secured the small craft to the shore. He shoved the boat into the water and hopped inside. The oars slipped easily into their locks. Mazorca began rowing north, against the Potomac’s slow current. He stayed close to the shore-so close that a few low-hanging tree branches brushed his hat. After rowing for several hundred feet, Mazorca found a small break in the foliage.