This used to be known as a doré bar.” Hamlin Turner drew the gold closer to his eyes. “Means gold that’s been refined at the mine head. Purity is never more than ninety percent. I’d put this at around eighty-five, which isn’t bad for a backwoods operation. Not bad at all. I assume that’s who you represent, yes? There used to be gold mines all through the Appalachians. You must have found a vein that wasn’t played out.”
Caleb did not respond. Nor was he certain the attorney expected him to say anything. The inner office was grand yet rumpled, just like the attorney seated behind the huge desk. The carpet stretched across the broad-plank floor was very old and very beautiful and looked hand-sewn. But the central section had lost its color, and the borders were badly frayed. The desk was as scuffed and hard used as the floor. The ceiling was high and held three chandeliers of hand-blown glass. The wall opposite the trio of huge windows was lined floor to ceiling with shelves holding more books than the Catawba library. But the volumes lay in a careless, haphazard manner. More books were scattered over the office’s three tables, along with a multitude of files. There was dust everywhere.
Hamlin Turner reflected his office’s messy state. He was a big man, easily twice Caleb’s weight, tall and big-boned enough to handle his bulk with relative ease. He rose from his leather chair and walked to a small kitchenette set in an alcove behind his desk. “Coffee?”
“Yes, please.”
“Manners. I’ve always found them useful. When I can remember to use them.” Hamlin inspected a mug, his fingers too big to fit inside the handle. He used a dishrag to wipe the interior. “Esther—that’s the battle-ax guarding my outer office—she hates how I won’t let her clean in here. But if she did, I wouldn’t be able to find a thing. How do you take it?”
“I haven’t had coffee often enough to know.”
“Milk and sugar, that’s the ticket. Makes a decent meal when time’s too tight to eat.” Hamlin poured them both a mug, dosed them liberally, then reached across the desk. His chair creaked noisily when he reseated himself. “Where were we?”
“I have no idea.” Caleb took a cautious sip. The coffee was warming and rich. He felt himself being invited to relax in unaccustomed ways. Instead, he sensed the band of tension wrapped around his chest more clearly than ever. He had been so busy, the times so intense, he had been able to ignore the burden he carried. But now, as he sat in the safety of this powerful man’s office, the worries and the unanswered questions assaulted him.
“Accepting you as a client is inviting a whole passel of trouble.” Hamlin’s smile held a nasty edge. “So happens I like trouble. Keeps a body on their toes. Been far too smooth sailing around here lately. Bud, you got yourself a lawyer.”
“Wonderful.”
“Now that we’ve got that out of the way, what do you aim on achieving with all this gold? You understand what I’m asking, yes?”
Caleb had been pondering that very question. “This much money means power. Which I don’t want.”
“It doesn’t matter what you want.” Hamlin leaned back and planted a massive boot on the desk. “The Atlanta leaders will all be thinking that way.”
“They scare me.”
“They should. First thing they’ll want to know is, who am I representing, and is this person a threat or an ally. Which is why representing you could place me in very real danger.” If the attorney was concerned about that prospect, he did not show it. “How much gold are we talking about?”
Caleb motioned to the three cases lined up behind the desk. “There are a hundred and thirty-nine bars we brought with us. And we hope to deliver that much every three or four months.”
“Like I said, trouble.” But Hamlin’s grin grew broader. “Mind telling me where you’re from?”
Caleb hesitated, then decided the attorney needed to know that much. “Catawba enclave.”
“Which means you’ve decided to avoid Charlotte. Smart man. And now you want me to set you up with a safe and secret haven. Consider it done. What else?”
“That’s as far as I’ve gotten.”
“Think it over and let’s meet up here tomorrow. I have to be in court all morning. Noon work for you?”
“Yes.” Caleb started to rise, then added, “There is one thing.”
“Thought there might be.”
“It’s personal, though.”
“Son, you’re in the process of dumping a truckload of gold in my lap. Personal is not the issue.”
But Caleb persisted. “The gold, that’s the property of the enclave’s elders. I’m just their courier and spokesman.”
“And an honest one at that. They’re lucky to have you. Which permits you a personal request in my book.” The grin became more wolfish still. “And I’m the only voice that matters just now.”
Caleb found himself liking the hard-edged lawyer. “I’m trying to locate a missing friend. Well, more than a friend.”
“She’s here in Atlanta?”
“She and her father came down five months ago. Her name is Madeline Constance. Goes by Maddie. Her father taught engineering at the Catawba community college, then accepted a professorship at Atlanta University.”
Hamlin picked up a pen but did not make any notes. “You’ve asked him?”
“I’m . . . trying.”
“Caleb, why don’t you go ahead and tell me what you’re dancing around.”
“Maddie . . . is a special. Her father doesn’t know.”
“This just keeps getting better.” Hamlin set down his pen. “You’re asking me to poke a hornet’s nest.”
“You won’t help me?”
“I didn’t say that. But it has to be done quiet, you understand. Quiet takes time.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
“These specials have become a matter of grave interest to the local powers. They’ve even got themselves a high-powered group down from Washington to help out. Though ‘help’ might not be the proper word, given these are Washington folk.” Hamlin appeared to be talking as much to himself as to Caleb. “They’re rounding up these so-called specials and holding them somewhere.”
“They’re not so-called anything,” Caleb said.
Hamlin peered at him from beneath greying eyebrows thick as shrubbery. “Point taken.”
“Can you find out where they’re being held?”
“Probably. But like I said, it has to be done quiet. As in, whispering down dark wells at midnight. Where are you staying?”
“The Ritz.”
“Nice place. Go get yourself a decent night’s rest. Looks like you could use it. Be back here at noon. I’ll see what I can find.”