I sat upon the earth, thinking I should enjoy sitting before the cage began to flood. I considered everything, certain I had not neglected some path to freedom, but forcing myself to turn everything over again and again. It was all I thought of, and it was what I was thinking of when I saw three figures emerging from the dark. One was tall and broad, one quite small-a woman, I thought-and it was not until they were only feet away did I recognize them as Reynolds, the Irishman from the Statehouse, and Mrs. Joan Maycott.
Joan Maycott
January 1792
It was early evening. Having already eaten my dinner, I was in my room alone, reading quietly and sipping at a glass of watered wine, when my landlady knocked at the door. I had a visitor below, but he was of the sort she could not admit to her house, lest she receive complaints from the other tenants. I immediately apologized that she should be troubled by such a person and descended the stairs. I remained calm in my demeanor, though in truth I was very anxious, for I feared my visitor might be one of the whiskey boys, having encountered some trouble dire enough to risk visiting me in my home.
I knew not if I should be relieved or dismayed to find Mr. Reynolds on my stoop, leaning against the stone rail and spitting tobacco juice into the street. He looked at me, grinned, and took off his hat. “A moment of your time, Mrs. Maycott.”
“I cannot imagine it would be anything but a moment wasted.”
“No need to be so harsh to a man come maybe to help you,” he said. “Maybe, I don’t know, but I got a feeling I might. You’ve seen enough of me, I think, to know I’m loyal to no one and nothing. If it pays, that’s all I care for, so here’s a chance for me to make some money, if I know you right.”
“Know me right about what?”
“About Captain Saunders. He stands against Mr. Duer and so do you.”
“You misunderstand me if you think I’m not Mr. Duer’s friend.”
“And you misunderstand me if you think I trouble myself one way or t’other. I work for Duer, true, but he ain’t no friend of mine. And you forget what I know already, so do you want to help Saunders, or do you want to leave him where he is?”
“Where is he?”
“Where he can’t get out,” Reynolds said, “and at Pearson’s mercy, which ain’t a great place for him.”
“Are you telling me he’s somehow been abducted?”
“Not somehow. I helped capture him, and now I’m willing to help you set him free, if you want to pay for what I know.”
“You were paid by Pearson to abduct him, and now you wish to be paid to free him?”
“Clever, ain’t it?”
I would not comment on that point. “Where is he?”
“Can’t tell you that.”
I had, perhaps, erred in making Saunders so vital to my plans, for things with him were coming undone rapidly. I had only just received word from his slave that he had been forced to break with Saunders. It appeared that Saunders had freed Leonidas without bothering to tell him, and Leonidas believed that he could no longer stay by Saunders’s side. His logic was that if he did not respond with appropriate resentment, Saunders would begin to grow suspicious. It was perhaps true, but hardly convenient.
Leonidas had assured me their rupture would in no way interfere with Saunders’s ability to thwart Duer. His capture by Pearson, however, was another matter. If Saunders was tucked away in some basement or garret somewhere, he would not be able to act against Duer in the morning, and nothing right now was more important than keeping Duer from taking control of the Million Bank. If he had the bank’s credit at his disposal, he could conceivably be too powerful to be stopped, and we would not only have failed, we would have aided our enemy in achieving a wealth and power never before conceived of. It would not stand.
“How much?” I asked.
“Twenty dollars.”
“Agreed.”
“Too quickly agreed, in my opinion. Fifty dollars.”
“I don’t like you very much, Mr. Reynolds.”
He shrugged. “Nobody seems to. But in the end, they pay me.”
R eynolds informed me that I would need the help of another man in retrieving Saunders, so we stopped by Dalton’s boardinghouse and he joined our little party. Next, Reynolds led us north to a deserted pier, one abused and abandoned by the British during the war. Underneath it we found a diabolical little cage, and therein was Captain Saunders, sitting against the far wall, his arms folded. A chain and picked lock lay at the door, a scattering of abandoned ropes lay strewn in the sand.
“I told Pearson it was a mistake to leave Saunders unattended. Look at him.”
“I’m still imprisoned,” he observed, his tone dry.
“Not for long, eh?” Reynolds said. “I’ve brung these folks to offer up their services in freeing you.”
Saunders looked at us but did not move. “Freeing me? And not, let us say, killing me, which I should very much object to?”
I could hardly be surprised at his suspicion, and had he known to what extent I hoped to manipulate him, I could not doubt his anger; even so, it pained me-surprisingly-that he should be so suspicious. “Hardly, Captain. I have told you before that I believe we both stand for the same things.”
“What about him?” He gestured with his chin toward Dalton. “He abused me and threatened me outside the Statehouse. He told me a sharpshooter would murder me if I did not act as he wished.”
“There’s no point in holding a grudge, lad,” Dalton said. “Perhaps this rescue will even things for us.”
“Mr. Dalton did not yet know you to be an honorable man.” I had anticipated certain concerns on Captain Saunders’s part, and I’d troubled myself to construct some plausible stories during the journey here. “We believed you one of Duer’s men at the time. Only later did we understand our error. Come, let’s get you out of there, and I shall tell you everything on the way back to your room.”
Mr. Dalton and Reynolds both planted their feet firmly in the earth and grabbed hold of the bars of the door. Captain Saunders bent over, gripped hold of two bars slightly beneath their positions, and pushed. The door moved slowly but steadily, and in a few seconds was open wide enough for the captain to slip out with relative ease. As we walked to the carriage, he maintained a silent if agreeable demeanor, as though there were nothing unusual in our little outing, but I watched his eyes. Even in the dark he it was plain that he scanned each of us slowly and carefully, taking full measure of our moves, weighing our intents. I don’t know that I would have made an effort to manipulate him had I understood him to be quite so vigilant, quite so clever.
When we reached our transport, I asked him, if he would not object, to ride alone with me in the carriage, and when he assented I sent Reynolds and Dalton up to ride with the coachman. Dalton would understand, and Reynolds was being well paid for his discomfort.
Once we were seated, he turned to me. “Reynolds works for Duer, for Pearson, and for you?”
“Reynolds will work for who will pay him. He took money from Pearson to imprison you, and then came immediately to me because he believed I would pay for your release.”
“Perhaps it is time you told me why you cared to pay for my release.”
“I thought we were friends,” I said. “It is no more than I would do for any friend.”
“Please, Mrs. Maycott, do not attempt to manipulate me. How do you know the big Irishman? Dalton, you called him.”
“I know him from the West, and I am proud to call him my friend as well. He and I are patriots, Captain. Just as I believe you do, we stand against Duer, who is a vile man whose ambitions will undo the country if he is not checked. He has already stolen from the nation. Is he now to be allowed to bankrupt it?”