1879
The massive towers and anchor buildings were now connected by the graceful arcs of the cables, glinting in the sun and showing promise of the future. Contracts for the steel suspenders were opened for bids. These suspenders would hang from the cables and support the infrastructure for the roadway. Papa had specified iron, but Wash felt steel was less prone to damage from corrosion and stress.
Roebling wire had been mixed with Haigh’s wire in the cables when Haigh’s company couldn’t keep up with the demand. The wire strand that had so violently snapped was mostly Roebling wire of good quality but had been frayed by a pulley. After repairs, I was assured it wouldn’t happen again. But still, my gut twisted with the suspicion that something else was wrong. The type of wire I had recovered was unlikely to have been responsible for the accident, but its friability troubled me, and I didn’t trust Haigh, the contractor who had provided it. I broke off a piece and sent it to a laboratory for testing.
The suspender wire contract was awarded to Roebling Brothers, who were not taking a profit and therefore were the lowest bidder. I was much relieved, even before we had any results of the testing.
* * *
April was my favorite month. One Saturday, I took Johnny to a garden nursery, excited to see the first flowers of spring. He was now a sturdy eleven-year-old, and I piled clay pots, bags of seeds, and rooted plants into his outstretched arms until he could hold no more. After delivering them home, he begged to visit his friends. I sent him off, wistful of slowly losing my little boy.
I was planting pansies next to our front stoop when a familiar voice called my name, causing me to drop my spade. Brushing dirt from my skirt, I offered Wash my cheek. He had returned from Trenton, once again unexpectedly.
“I have a present for you.” He brought his hand from behind his back, holding a three-foot-long metal bar.
“How thoughtful, as I already have plenty of flowers.” I accepted the bar as if it were the king’s crown. “What is it?”
“A sample of the suspender wire.”
He unwound the loose end of a thin, flexible wire that wrapped a center core, which contained a bundle of thicker wires, each about the size of a pencil lead. Together, it was about two inches in diameter, a structural miniature of the great cables. The suspenders would hang vertically from the cables and connect the roadway to the cables.
“The factory is going full tilt, and the first delivery is on the way.”
Soon, the suspenders were going up at a rapid rate, starting at the anchorages and spreading toward the towers on each side. Men dangling on small platforms that hung from the cables attached the suspenders—giant harp strings in the sky.
As the suspenders were placed, their bottom ends were attached to steel beams. The beams would then creep forward from both sides of the river, like the unrolling of two giant rugs, until they met in the middle. Then two layers of steel trusses with cross bracing would be added for stability, and the top layer would be yellow pine planks. A lighter-weight pedestrian walkway would be built above the roadway.
Returning home in the late afternoon on a day where much infrastructure had been laid, I found Wash at the bedroom window, examining his rock collection.
“Have you been watching?” I nodded toward his telescope.
“Is there a problem?”
“Why don’t you take a peek?”
He peered through the telescope, pivoted, refocused, and in seconds was done. “All appears in order.”
“In fact it is.” I huffed at his nonchalance. “The suspenders and decking are in place over both land spans and started over the river span. The first order of planking has arrived and seems of uniform high quality, no knots, sap, or rot.”
“Yes, as I stipulated and have seen with my own eyes.” He went back to his rock collection.
“You saw all that in twenty seconds?”
“I did.”
I raised an eyebrow. Had he actually spent hours watching and didn’t want me to know?
“Number one, I trust Martin, Farrington, and you. Number two, my eye is trained to pick up the slightest deviance in an instant.”
“As is mine.” A new sensation rolled over me, as if an angel had just given me a blessing. What did it matter if Wash appreciated all I was doing? The bridge was its own reward. A graceful curve was taking shape. The roadway gradually arced up. The center of the span would be one hundred and thirty-five feet above the water. The cables, in a steeper catenary curve, came down from the towers so that at their lowest point, in the middle of the river, they would attach directly to the roadway at its highest point. Seeing plans on paper come to life was like watching an angel get her wings.
* * *
H.M.S. Pinafore was all the rage, and PT finagled tickets to not just one of the many unauthorized productions but the authentic Gilbert and Sullivan musical. We had reached an arrangement agreeable to us both. We saw each other in the company of others—our spouses on rare occasion, but more often friends or business associates. He gathered several of them in his most elegant carriage, and we ferried over to Manhattan for a Sunday matinee of song, laughter, and good spirits.
On the ride back, we sang show tunes with lively voices and improvised lyrics. When we reached my home, I departed their company in the midst of “Oh Joy, Oh Rapture Unforeseen.” The harmony faded as I stepped from the carriage.
A worker sat on my stoop. He stood and removed his hat. “Sorry to bother you, ma’am. If I can have a moment of your time.”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Dunn.” Several years had passed, but I readily recognized the ginger-headed worker. “What brings you here on a Sunday?”
“Mr. Kingsley keeps me busy, but perhaps tomorrow would be better?”
“You’re here now. What is it?” I waved an all clear to PT. “You work for Mr. Kingsley?”
Dunn worked the brim of his slouchy hat. “Yes, ma’am. Ran out of things I’m suited for on the bridge, but there’s plenty of work building banks and stores and such.” He scuffed his boot toe on the cobblestones. “And the Brooklyn Theater.”
“You worked on that?”
“Yes, ma’am. I wasn’t surprised when the balcony collapsed.”
“That happens in fires.”
“That’s so, but nothing was done right. We were pushed, ‘Get it done,’ all the time. Corners cut. I know how things should be…and they weren’t.”
“Did you come to tell me about a fire that occurred three years ago?” I glanced up. Lamps were being lit on our second floor.
“No, ma’am. See, I needed some extra work.” He flicked his eyes at me. “Gamble a little. Anyway, I was offered good money for some simple work and didn’t mind seeing some of my buddies who still work the bridge.”
“Many workers do that for Mr. Kingsley. It’s not a problem.”
“This work wasn’t for Kingsley. It was for a friend of his. We loaded big spools of wire onto wagons at a warehouse in Red Hook and carted them off to another, more remote warehouse. There, we loaded up another bunch and brought those back to the first warehouse.”
“They may have been replacing unsuitable wire. All the wire was inspected at the bridge site.”
“Perhaps so. But it was done at midnight. And this dropped off one of the spools we moved out of Red Hook.” He produced an inspection certificate from his pocket.
“I see. Tell me, Mr. Dunn, who hired you for this?”
“Don’t know his name. Big fellow, nice suit. Talked all ‘jolly well.’”
“Thank you. Is there anything else?”
“No, ma’am. Thought you should know. You and the colonel have been good to me.”
I pressed a few coins into Dunn’s hand despite his protest.
After the wire had snapped and killed Supple, I had suspected that wire had been switched. Now I ground my teeth, certain of who was behind this treacherous act.