We had a late breakfast the next morning, and it seemed as if I’d be getting to eat in the family room every day. It saved me the choice of spending money or having to try to charm Dulcie, but I did have to watch my manners better.
Mrs. Cowles had already eaten and left for the day, so it was just the two of us. Alice was so excited she could hardly eat, which was a shame because we were having waffles again.
“Tonight’s very important,” she said. “We may not have as good a chance again to question the Van Schuylers. I want to know what they are really up to, and we have to watch their faces when we bring up the Archangel, the Great Erie, Dunilsky—”
“Miss Alice, all you’re going to get is both of us thrown out on our ear. You can’t just say things like that.”
She gave her head a toss. “You underestimate me. I’m not going to question them like some petty thief in the backrooms of the Tombs. You will see how a political discussion proceeds. And they won’t expect it from the president’s young daughter. Your job is keeping your eyes and ears open. They’ll be a little interested in you. You’re almost exotic. So draw them out.” She paused. “Preston’s cousin Julia will no doubt be there. Women seem to find you interesting, so you can talk to her.” She said it like she knew it was true but didn’t know why.
“All right. I’ll follow your lead and make sure I don’t forget which is the fish fork.”
“Were you this difficult heading up San Juan Hill?”
“When I was running up San Juan Hill, I knew what I was doing. So is there anything else on for today?”
“We could just sit here all day while you eat waffles, but there’s a musical program that sounds rather promising, and some Republican ladies Aunt Anna wants me to meet will be there.”
“Some Sousa marches? I rather liked those at the concert we went to last month.”
“Mozart, I think,” she said.
You take the rough with the smooth.
* * *
Shortly after we came back that afternoon, a delivery man dropped off my evening suit. I let it hang on the back of my door as I lay in bed and just looked at it. I remembered when I was a boy, we spent the summer barefoot because shoes were a luxury, so we saved them for when there was snow on the ground.
I did what I could to clean up and then went through the complicated process of getting into the evening wear. It took a little while, but the tailor had done a good job, and the shoulder holster fit neatly under the jacket. The shoes felt a little odd—I was used to my cowboy boots. I didn’t have a full-length mirror, just a little one for shaving and washing up, but everything seemed to go together all right.
My riding coat clearly wasn’t going to go with this, nevermind my Stetson, but we weren’t going to be outside long, and I could make do. I gave one more try at smoothing my hair down and went upstairs to pick up Alice. A maid let me in, and she couldn’t hide the surprise in her eyes. “Miss Roosevelt will be out in a moment,” she said. I watched her head into the kitchen, and a moment later, Dulcie came, drying her hands on a towel. She was smiling and then gave a genuine laugh. “Oh, my,” she said. “Well fancy that. I never would’ve believed it.” She laughed again and, shaking her head, went back to the kitchen.
I wasn’t left alone long. Alice was as dolled up as I had ever seen her, wearing a really grand dress, and her hair was done up fancy.
“You look lovely, Miss Alice,” I said, and she gave a little twirl.
“Thank you. And those clothes really suit you.”
We were interrupted by the opening of the door behind me as Mrs. Cowles came striding in. Alice winked at me and then stood right next to me and slipped her arm in mine.
“We’re just about to leave for the Van Schuylers. Don’t Mr. St. Clair and I make a handsome couple?” she asked.
Mrs. Cowles raised an eyebrow. “Most handsome,” she said dryly. I wasn’t entirely happy with Alice’s observation or Mrs. Cowles’s response. We might have to talk about this later. I was not a “couple” with Alice Roosevelt.
But Alice didn’t see anything wrong. Heck, she doubled down. “Could I have Mr. St. Clair escort me to the Ballentine Ball in the spring? I’d be the envy of all the other girls.”
“You’d have to check with Mr. St. Clair’s superior. I believe he’d be entitled to hazard pay. I hope you enjoy yourselves this evening.”
We’d really have to talk later.
We were out the door and in the car in a few minutes. The Van Schuylers weren’t far. If I had been on my own, I probably would’ve walked.
A serious-looking servant let us in, but the Van Schuylers were not in evidence.
“Miss Alice Roosevelt. Mr. Joseph St. Clair,” said Alice. He bowed, and we followed him into a sort of large parlor where everyone was gathering. It was some room, dominated by a marble fireplace. On the mantle, vases of glass and silver shone, and maids had polished all the wood until you could practically use it as a mirror. The furniture was all leather with brass fittings, and I got the sense this was a room designed to impress, not to live in.
The servant announced us, which didn’t seem entirely necessary, but things are done a certain way in society.
I was used to sizing everyone up quickly. I saw Preston, looking as he had at the party at Alice’s, and he quickly came over and gave her a kiss on the cheek, which brought color to her face. “St. Clair, glad to see you again,” he said, shaking my hand.
Over his shoulder, I saw three more people: two men and a young woman who seemed just a few years older than Alice.
“Please, let me introduce you to my family.”
I followed along, curious not only to meet these people but to see how I was going to be introduced.
First was the older man.
“Uncle Henry—this is Alice Roosevelt and her Secret Service bodyguard, Joseph St. Clair. It seems protocol requires him to be at Alice’s side at all times.” A bit of a smile there from Alice. “This is my uncle, Henry van Schuyler.”
“A pleasure,” he said. Even though he was past sixty, his face was strong and unlined. “I haven’t seen you since you were a little girl, Alice. Thank you for playing host to Preston for so much of the summer. And Mr. St. Clair, welcome to our home.” His handshake was firm.
“And this is my cousin, Julia. I think you two ladies met when we were all children.” Now she was interesting. Julia was pale and slender—too slender, actually—and her cheeks were a little hollow. She could’ve been a pretty girl, with a few more pounds on her. I might’ve thought she had consumption, but she wasn’t coughing.
She gave us the ghost of a smile, and her voice was barely above a whisper. “Delighted to see you again, Alice. We were very young when we met last. Glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. St. Clair.”
“And finally, Shaw Brantley, my cousin-in-law, so to speak—Julia’s husband. I don’t think you’ve met.” Brantley was noticeably shorter than I was, but broad across the chest, and he had a solid look about him. A full black beard completed the look, and I wondered at how opposite he seemed from his wife. “Miss Roosevelt, it’s a great pleasure to meet you. Mr. St. Clair—you are here in a protective rather than investigative role?” I couldn’t be completely sure, but I thought he smiled.
“Mr. St. Clair is devoted entirely to keeping me safe,” Alice replied.
“I wouldn’t have thought you’d be in danger here,” said Brantley.
“Mr. St. Clair is very cautious,” said Alice.
“It’s wise. We’re unfortunately living in violent times,” said Van Schuyler. “You never know where trouble will come from next. I understand from Preston that you are from Wyoming, Mr. St. Clair? You have your share of violence there, I believe?”
“Our share, but no more,” I said, and he nodded as if I had said something profound.
“Perhaps being in law enforcement, you are aware of the anarchist problem we have here?”
“You’d be surprised what we know,” said Alice. “They’re really a fascinating group.”
Van Schuyler frowned. “‘Fascinating’ isn’t the word I’d use,” he said. “I know your father has condemned them strongly, and I approve of his stance.”
“We don’t tolerate them in our business,” said Brantley. “Anyone found to even be associating with known anarchists is immediately dismissed.” He had a flat midwestern accent.
“Your business? I understand from Preston that it’s largely centered on the Great Lakes these days. I’m rather curious. I haven’t been farther upstate than Albany, and I know very little about the Great Lakes. Perhaps, Mr. Brantley, you could educate me?” Alice’s eyes were large, and she had as modest a look as she could possibly achieve. Brantley raised an eyebrow.
And then dinner was announced.
The rich used a lot of knives, forks, and spoons, which is not a problem if you have someone else washing them for you. You work from the outside in, so it’s pretty easy to figure out, as long as you pay attention.
I was seated next to Julia Brantley, who stared mournfully at her soup, took one spoonful, and then carefully placed her spoon back on the table. I didn’t know why, because it was good soup. But if she was ill, that might explain it.
“We were talking about the Great Lakes,” said Alice. “It was my understanding that your firm has been greatly expanding its operations.”
Brantley and Van Schuyler both looked a little startled at that, and then Van Schuyler gave a wry look at his nephew. “Have you been talking about the family business with Miss Roosevelt? I wouldn’t have thought she’d be interested.”
“Alice is interested in a great many things. You’d be surprised,” said Preston with a grin.
“I would be,” said Van Schuyler. “I know I’m old, but in my day, when we had a few minutes with a young woman, we had better things to discuss than the family business.” He gave a smile to Alice, who forced one back.
“Miss Roosevelt, do you realize that Chicago barely existed one hundred years ago?” said Brantley. “Today, it’s the fifth-largest city in the world. New York City’s population has about doubled in the past decade. We believe Great Lakes transportation will be essential to the growth of this region. There is nothing unusual in that.”
She nodded, and then Van Schuyler changed the subject. “I hope your father is adjusting to his new position. It’s hard enough to become president when one is elected, but to have the position thrust on one so suddenly, with violence . . .”
“Father has been up to every challenge he’s been given,” said Alice. “But you mentioned violence. I understand it was your great misfortune to be with McKinley when he was killed.”
“Unfortunately, yes. I was standing a little to the back, however, so I didn’t see anything.”
Alice clearly resented the implication that she was just seeking gruesome details, but she held her tongue. “But I am interested in the Great Lakes trade. It’s in my blood, seeing as we’re among the oldest families in New York. And I’m sure with all the changes and growth in the area, the Van Schuylers aren’t the only ones who see opportunity.”
The reactions were different. Preston could barely seem to contain his delight at Alice’s questions, but Brantley and Van Schuyler clearly were hoping the subject had been exhausted.
“We’re the biggest, but not the only ones,” said Van Schuyler. “There’s plenty of room in the Great Lakes for all kinds of shipping.”
“I’m sure, I’m sure,” said Alice. And then she turned to me. “Mr. St. Clair. What was the name of that company we heard? I think it was someone at Aunt Anna’s party . . .”
“The Great Erie & Albany Boat Company,” I said.
Now that really got Van Schuyler’s attention, and Brantley looked a little shaken, too. I thought they’d be angry at Alice’s persistence, but for just a moment, I saw fear in their expressions.
Then Van Schuyler leaned back in his chair, looking disgusted.
“That’s the name of a group of our competitors,” said Brantley patiently. “Jealous of our hard-won success, they have banded together to try to block our plans for expansion—an expansion, I may add, that will benefit everyone. But we need new facilities, new boats, and that requires a great many workers. We hired them quietly so as not to excite attention, but unfortunately, it only bred rumors.”
“Of course,” said Alice, trying to look sympathetic. “Supervising such a great many workers must be a difficult and complicated task. You must have many projects going on at once.”
“You’re your father’s daughter,” said Van Schuyler, who seemed pleased to have someone interested in his plans. “He’s always been fascinated by large projects like this. I’m afraid that we’ve been so busy we haven’t been as social as we might’ve been. But I look forward to meeting your father again. It’s been too long. In fact, we’re launching a new ship in New York port, near South Street, and have sent an invitation to your father to attend. We well know his interest in maritime affairs, as he was undersecretary of the navy some years back.”
“I didn’t know we were launching a new ship,” said Preston.
“It isn’t widely known. It was all being done under the name of a local ship builder in Newport News to keep our plans quiet so our competitors wouldn’t quickly move against us. But now that we’re almost upon the launch, we’re ready to announce it. It’s a connection for our cargo for points south. It’s been docked in South Street for a few weeks for final outfitting. We’re hiring a crew and additional dockworkers. But we’re keeping the security high to avoid trouble from competitors and . . . others.”
“Such as the Archangel?” asked Alice. And I thought, There goes the diplomacy. But it did have an effect, that’s for sure. Brantley and Van Schuyler looked at each other, and this time there wasn’t room for doubt. They weren’t angry. They were terrified.
Brantley looked like he was going to say something, but Van Schuyler cut him off. Preston was openly smirking at the discomfort Alice was putting his uncle through.
“May I ask where you heard that name, Miss Roosevelt?” asked Van Schuyler.
I thought Alice was going to complain, yet again, about answering questions with questions, but instead she just said, “I find it amusing to visit some of my father’s old colleagues in the Tombs, and one of them mentioned an odd case, a figure called the Archangel. We know of at least one worker upstate who was terrified of him.”
“St. Clair—you take Miss Roosevelt to the Tombs? I wouldn’t have thought that appropriate.”
I shrugged. “I’m just her bodyguard, not her nanny.” And Brantley barked a laugh.
But Alice was still waiting for an answer to her question, which came from Van Schuyler. “Miss Roosevelt, I wanted to avoid such an unpleasant subject, but it seems that anarchists have been trying to convert our workers to their demented causes, and when our workers proved far too sensible, the anarchists tried to terrorize them. And I want to emphasize that every large shipping company has been hit by the Archangel. The name is used widely for these faceless fearmongers—a sort of blasphemous joke.” He smiled to restore good humor. “But I think we’re in danger of boring some of our company. Preston here has little interest in company affairs,” he added with an indulgent look. “And my daughter is in danger of getting very bored, and that’s unfair. Now, Preston is thinking of taking a grand tour. It might be amusing to discuss what cities he should visit.”
“But Uncle, I thought you wanted me to become more involved in the family business?” Preston said it deliberately to tweak his Uncle Henry. I could see the older man’s jaw set tightly.
“You’re taking that trip. We discussed it.”
“But maybe I’ve changed my mind. Maybe I want to take my father’s place?” He was clearly entertained at what he was doing.
You could tell the old man wanted to lash out, but he mastered himself. “Miss Roosevelt, perhaps with your charms you might have more influence with my nephew than I do. Perhaps you could convince him to take such a trip, to help mature him before settling into business, and suggest some cities to visit.”
And Alice decided she had pushed things far enough. At least for now. “Paris, you must visit Paris. And that’s just to start with. After Europe, you must see the Orient. I very much want to see Peking.”
I saw Preston give her a quick wink, and they were off and running on a discussion of world cities that didn’t particularly interest me.
It didn’t seem to interest Julia any more than the business discussion had. It wasn’t that the food was taking all her attention, either. There’d been a pretty good fish course, followed by a roast, but Julia didn’t seem to touch any of it. She hardly met anyone’s eyes, and Brantley didn’t seem to spare a lot of attention for his wife.
“Have you lived all your life in New York, Mrs. Brantley?” I asked. It wasn’t the most original conversational line, and I already knew the answer was probably “yes,” but it might get something going.
She seemed a little startled. “Yes, I have,” she said, giving me a shy look. “I’ve always lived in this house.” She paused. “We have a place in Buffalo, too, but we don’t go there very often.” I think she was considering asking me a question in return but couldn’t bring herself to do it.
“I grew up in Wyoming, just outside of Laramie,” I said. She gave me the smallest smile.
“I understand it’s a very . . . empty state,” she said.
“It is, ma’am. It’s one of the biggest states, but far fewer people live in that whole state than on this one island. It’s a beautiful part of the country, and I often find myself missing it very much.”
She got a dreamy look in her eye at that. “It must be lovely to just be so alone there. To be by yourself for hours and for days without anyone else. I am never alone. I am never by myself. Are you married, Mr. St. Clair?”
“Not yet,” I said.
“You have a kind face. I think you would be kind to your wife, wouldn’t you?”
From the corner of my eye, I could see Brantley glancing at us with some curiosity.
“I’m sure I would. I have a sister. Her name is Mariah. And I’m sure she would expect me to behave myself.”
I wanted to ask her something that would help us, but I doubt she knew anything. She seemed to be in her own little world.
“I would’ve liked a sister,” she said.
“You have your cousin Preston,” I said. “A cousin is almost like a brother or sister.”
“Preston is a man—and I already know about men,” she said in a tone as if I had missed something very obvious, and maybe I had. There weren’t any other women in this house, and the Van Schuylers did not seem to be a very social group, which is perhaps why she seemed a little . . . odd.
Eventually, a maid came around and took away our plates. Julia still hadn’t eaten anything.
“You know, if you ever wanted to see the West, ma’am, it’s easy now with all the railroad lines. I’d be happy to accompany you and Mr. Brantley. I still have family out there, and we’d be delighted to show you some Western hospitality.”
Julia looked at me curiously. “You really are very kind, Mr. St. Clair. I’m sure you mean very well, but Mr. Brantley and I . . . I don’t really—” She struggled for words, but never got there, because her husband jumped in.
“Now dear, I think you’ve been monopolizing Mr. St. Clair’s time. He’s been very indulgent, but let’s not take advantage of his good nature.”
The poor woman seemed embarrassed at that and just looked down. In other circumstances, I’d have told Shaw to mind his own damn business, but Alice had already ruffled a few feathers, and I didn’t see any point in making things worse for Julia by jumping to her defense. Maybe if the poor girl was being badgered, that would explain the lack of appetite.
But I saw Alice taking it all in, and I realized we’d be coming back to Julia before the evening was over.
For now, Brantley was content to continue the conversation I was having with his wife, but on his own terms.
“I don’t think we’ll be taking any trips West soon, but if Preston is going to see the Orient, he might want to finish up at California and see a bit of the country by train on his way back east. You wouldn’t want to go, Julia,” he said with a laugh. “Red Indians on the warpath. Am I right, Mr. St. Clair?”
“I’m a quarter Cheyenne,” I said. “But I’ll put in a good word for Preston if he’d like.”
Brantley and Van Schuyler didn’t seem to know what to make of that, but Preston seemed amused, and Alice was trying hard not to laugh.
After dinner, we all went to a lounge with some very comfortable furniture. I made myself at home in a deep chair where I could easily keep an eye on everyone. Then the servant who had let us in came around with glasses and poured us all some of the best brandy I ever had. He didn’t offer anything at all to Julia, who took a seat near the hearth and hugged herself as if she was cold.
“I do so like your dress, Mrs. Brantley,” said Alice. “I need to increase my wardrobe before I relocate to Washington. Who is your dressmaker? I need some more fashionable dresses.”
“Oh, the same woman my late mother used. I . . . I don’t use her very often. I have her name somewhere.”
“Very good. Perhaps when you find it, you could bring it to me in person at the Caledonia, where I’m currently living with my aunt, and we can have a lady’s luncheon. Would you like that, Mrs. Brantley?”
As Alice rolled on, Mrs. Brantley looked more and more stricken, as if she was being told she was being sent to a surgeon instead of being invited for one of Dulcie’s lunches. “Thank you, Miss Roosevelt. I . . . I . . . will you excuse me? I’m suddenly feeling a little unwell.” And she practically ran out of the room.
I thought Mr. Brantley would follow, and so must Alice have, for she glared at him when no one left. “My wife has a nervous temperament, Miss Roosevelt. Fortunately, her maid is very good at soothing her.”
“Maids are very useful for things like that,” said Alice brightly. “But perhaps a friend, another lady, would be even more welcome. If you gentlemen will excuse me . . .” and she took off after Julia. Brantley looked like he was going to say something, do something, but realized too late that Alice had gotten a march on him, and there was nothing to be done. He just grimaced and settled back into his chair. Preston continued to look amused, which seemed to have become his standard expression in Alice’s presence.
And Van Schuyler? I wouldn’t want to play cards with him—he was unreadable. It was quiet for a few moments as we enjoyed our brandy, and then he turned to his nephew.
“Preston, I don’t imagine Miss Roosevelt will be long with Julia. She usually wants to go straight to sleep after one of her spells. When Miss Roosevelt leaves her, you two young people will no doubt want to spend time together. Why don’t you wait for her in the green parlor? She can find you there when she’s done talking with Julia.”
Preston was being dismissed. He looked like he might argue it for a moment, then downed the rest of his brandy and gave in with good grace. Or maybe he just wanted to see Alice.
I briefly wondered if I would be dismissed, too, as Alice’s companion, but Van Schuyler quickly ended any confusion.
“Can I offer you a cigar, Mr. St. Clair?” He opened a wooden box by arm.
“Thank you, sir, yes.” I lit it up, and it was even better than the one Don Abruzzo had given me. I felt a little bad for Alice, who wasn’t there to have one, too. Van Schuyler and Brantley also lit up, and both of them were watching me very closely.
“I understand that you worked with the president when he was ranching in the Dakotas. It must’ve been very hard work. Especially for someone who was as young as you must’ve been,” said Van Schuyler.
“You grow up fast there. I found myself up in the Dakotas looking for work, and Mr. Roosevelt was hiring.”
“What my father-in-law is getting at, is that you know what hard work is. You know what it is to take responsibility. Preston doesn’t. And Miss Roosevelt certainly doesn’t,” said Brantley. “We are responsible for hundreds of workers, for business partners who have entrusted us with their money and their futures. I am sure, as a ranch hand, as a lawman, and as a Secret Service agent, that you have had to make hard decisions, that you have had to . . . be strict. So have we. Alice seems to think something mysterious was happening upstate. But it was just business as usual. Hard business. I don’t want you to think our business is any more than that.”
I took a couple of puffs on my cigar. Now this was interesting. “Why would I think what Alice was talking about was any more than that?” I asked.
“We’ve heard rumors. Rumors about rumors, if you will,” said Van Schuyler. “That people are saying our work upstate is about more than just being hard. That there is something”—he waved his arm, leaving a curl of smoke—“something sinister. Rumors of this Archangel. And maybe you found out we’ve been hiring many people in recent months, and that’s how rumors get started. But let me set the record straight. We’re a large presence in Buffalo and were so busy there around the time of the assassination. And we were plagued by anarchists even before one of the bunch killed McKinley. People do like to gossip. But you are an experienced man, Mr. St. Clair. And I think you understand that what we are doing is business as usual.”
They were being vague, but I knew what was going on. Alice’s mention of the Archangel had upset them. And they were thinking that if Alice knew about the Archangel, there could be other things she might know.
I had just one question after that speech. “This is all well and good, sir, and let’s say I accept it all. Why are you telling me?”
“Because I’m thinking, and I’m hoping, that you have some influence with Miss Roosevelt. Probably bored, and left to her own devices, she has spent too much time listening to Preston’s stories. He’s a good boy, but he doesn’t get the full picture and has little understanding about how business is done. I’m hoping, as she trusts you, that you can get her to see reason.”
“Mr. Van Schuyler, I’m just a Secret Service bodyguard. I thought you knew that.” I couldn’t believe he had gotten it so wrong. He seemed like a knowledgeable man. Did he think I was some sort of presidential advisor?
“Are you playing a game with us?” asked Brantley. He seemed irritated, like I was making fun of him. But Van Schuyler just waved at him to be quiet.
“Mr. St. Clair is just being circumspect, and I don’t think any less of him for that. I don’t entirely know what your writ is, but a mere bodyguard would be sitting in the kitchen in a bad suit drinking beer. When Preston asked me to invite Miss Roosevelt for dinner, I thought, fine, a young man wants to introduce us to his young lady. But Preston said that she insisted you be invited as a guest. So we know there’s more going on here.”
That was a nasty surprise, and I’m proud of myself that I didn’t choke on my cigar. That made a lot more sense than Preston wanting me there. I gave myself a little more time to smoke, but that was acceptable. I think that was expected.
“Gentlemen, what you said makes a lot of sense. And I promise you, I will have a very serious talk with her. As for my position . . .” And it was my turn to just wave my hand and leave a curl of smoke in the air. Silently, I thought about how I’d get my revenge on Alice. “It’s not something I can really discuss. You understand.”
“You answer to President Roosevelt?” asked Van Schuyler, and it was halfway between a statement and a question.
“Yes, I can tell you that much,” I said, and that had the advantage of being the truth. Van Schuyler nodded and then smiled. The tension melted away, and he changed the subject.
“I know the East Coast, and Shaw here knows the Midwest, being from Chicago. But your part of the world is a little new to us. We have some questions . . .” And I got to spend a pleasant hour or so talking about how life worked in Wyoming and surrounding states and how the Van Schuylers might be able to make some money out of it.
“I’m thinking of sending my cousin out West,” said Shaw with a smile. “A bit of a hot-head, I guess you could say. Did some work for us . . . but anyway. Maybe he’d do better where he had more room than in Chicago or New York.” And I agreed that the West could be a good place to get a fresh start.
At least the evening ended better than it began. Alice and Preston rejoined us just as we were finishing our talk, and they seemed in good spirits. Julia did not come down, and no one mentioned her.
“As much fun as this has been, we really should be getting home,” said Alice. We stood up, and a servant got Alice her coat. Van Schuyler said something vague about getting together more frequently and hoping her father could come to the launch of their new ship. Preston took her hand in both of his and said how pleased he was that she came, and their eyes lingered on each other.
And then we were off into the night.