After the speech to the American Society of Civil Engineers, there was still the matter of the bridge company and their threat to remove Wash from the project. That spring, Benjamin Stone made frequent and increasingly harassing visits to the office, demanding documentation of Wash’s health and my qualifications.
After several weeks, Wash’s symptoms had abated, and he was able to walk short distances using a cane. He agreed to make an appearance at the work site while I made a visit to Stone’s office.
“One last time, to get Stone off our backs. You can check the fire damage yourself.”
Wash, always a gentleman, had insisted on carrying one of the satchels full of documents. “It’s unnecessary, but I’ll do it for you, dear.”
We stopped in front of Stone’s brownstone office building. Wash handed me the satchel, then frowned at me struggling with the extra load. “I’ll go in with you.”
“No. It won’t do any good for him to see you—” I stopped. “Stone needs to know you’re at the work site.”
He shifted his weight from one leg to the other.
A pang of guilt ran through me. I was pushing him too hard. We should have taken a carriage. “Do you understand the power he has?”
“He doesn’t concern me.” He gave me a peck on the cheek before limping down the street.
I couldn’t say the same about my nemesis. “Don’t stay in the caisson too long, no more than five minutes at a time,” I yelled after Wash. Then I gripped the heavy bundles and climbed up the steps to Stone’s office.
* * *
Benjamin Stone sat behind his massive desk in the elegantly appointed office. To his right were tall windows, columns of light slipping between the thick green velvet curtains. He faced an ornate marble fireplace across the large room, above which hung a painting in an elaborately carved and gilded frame. Volumes of books were stacked neatly on shelves that extended all the way to a fourteen-foot ceiling.
I ignored the imposing surroundings and used a bit of PT’s showmanship as I emptied the two satchels into a foot-high pile of documents on his desk. They appeared most impressive, especially with the mote-filled beams of light that shone from the window on them like treasures. PT would be proud. “My credentials, sir. No doubt you will find a lack of explicit certifications. Regrettably, they are not available to women in this country.”
Despite all his earlier caterwauling and threats, he seemed stricken with a sudden lethargy and ignored my comments as well as the pile of paper. Instead, he simply nodded, rubbing the curious deep scar on his palm while he stared at something behind me. I followed his gaze to a painting over the fireplace. A woman with brown curls graced the portrait, alongside a little girl with similar ringlets.
“You should be very happy to learn that you can find Mr. Roebling at the work site should you wish to consult him.” I gathered back my satchels.
Again, he nodded, his gaze still upon the painting. “My wife and child.”
“They’re lovely. How old is your daughter?”
His eyes darted at me, his face twisted in anger. “Don’t you know?”
“No, I—”
“Sit down.”
It was more of a command than a request, so I took a seat on the green velvet chair facing his desk. I clasped my hands together in my lap and set my jaw to receive another lecture.
He paced the Persian rug, stopping at the large window. “I find it despicable that you come here, professing your knowledge and competence, when you don’t know pertinent history. Does the River Dee mean anything to you?” He stomped toward me, his face beet red.
I squeezed my eyes shut, his bearlike body looming above me not helping my concentration.
“A bridge failed, twenty, thirty years ago,” I said. “Quite a different sort of bridge if memory serves me.” I looked at him, seeing a face contorted in not just anger but grief. I glanced back at the portrait. A hole opened inside me, and empathy settled in where my hubris had vanished. “I’m sorry. Was your family involved?”
“It was 1847.” He wiped his eyes and spectacles with a handkerchief. “I was an inspector, and railroads were expanding all over the continent. England, Scotland, Wales—my team had to cover every inch of track, approve every new engine, ensure every bridge was sound.
“It was too much, too fast, I kept telling them. They approved changes in original plans without proper thought to safety. We had a new route, to Ruabon, Wales. I had my wife and daughter join me for the first passenger trip, having missed them so. It was a gray, drizzly spring day. Hmph. Jolly ol’ England and all that. But the railcar was a delight. Carved mahogany walls, velvet seats.” He made circle motions with his hand in the air. “My little girl wiped the window so her rag doll could see out. Then she held it up, saying, ‘Kiss Gertrude for me,’ and I feigned a smooch on the grotty thing.”
“That was sweet of you.” How on earth this pertained to my credentials was utterly lost on me. It seemed a warning, the distant thunder before a storm.
“Hmph. As we crossed the bridge, a vibration began and moved toward us, building to a tremble. Then a wave motion rippled across the bridge like an earthquake, the iron struts shaking violently, working loose from the pilings. I heard pings as the twisting force strained the fasteners and rivets ricocheted like bullets. One shot straight through my palm.” He massaged his scar with his thumb.
“We were thrown forward, then across the car. A huge crack sounded as bridge timbers gave way. We were tossed apart, just as I wanted to cradle them in my arms and keep them safe.”
“Did you get to them? Did everyone get out of the car safely?”
“I punched through the window, hoping to create an escape. But the railcar plunged into the river. A shock of cold, gray water blasted me away from the windows. I fought the torrent and the desperate need for air, trying to reach my family. But they were too far, and roaring water overcame me. Shock faded to numbness as I sank into dark, frigid water. I swirled down, crushed and useless.” He leaned back in his chair, eyes closed, defeated and empty as a rubber balloon. “I awaited my final relief, to be carried away in the swift current with the others.”
I wrapped my arms about myself, my own horror of near drowning returning like a rushing river. “But you survived. And your wife and daughter?”
He shook his head.
“What a tragedy. I know of sorrow.” In the portrait over the fireplace, the young subjects seemed more real now, the young mother having some resemblance to myself. I told him briefly about the loss of my sister at a tender age. We had a moment of mutual respect for each other and for forces of nature that man could not always tame. But his tender side disappeared with the speed of lightning.
“I understand the bridge committee once again intends for trains to be accommodated,” he barked. “Tell me, young lady, do you know the weight of a train?”
“Well, I’m not—” I stammered.
“You have no idea. What is the added tensile and compressive strength required? How will the approaches be configured so the trains don’t collide with other vehicles?” Stone glared at me.
“We—”
My mind raced to come up with answers to his rapid-fire questions when he thundered, “Don’t answer! Fools! You think this is some game you are playing? It’s high time the board put a stop to this before we endanger the lives of everyone who steps foot on that colossal disaster!”
“You insult the fine minds of the engineers who designed this, the skill of the workmen who are building it.” I breathed slowly, in control. “All schematics are available for your review. I will consult with the engineers if you have specific concerns. In the meantime, your threats have served only to hamper the vital work taking place. And it will take place, whether you choose to cooperate or not.”
I gathered my satchels. Despite my confident words, the new plan to incorporate trains had blindsided me. Notice of that was probably amid the pile of correspondence on my desk. “I’m terribly sorry about the loss of your wife and daughter. But past accidents should inform the science of engineering, not impede the progress of today.” With shoulders straight and my head held high, I marched out of his office. But my heart was breaking once again as Elizabeth swirled away from me, now with two others floating with her.