I STARED AT HIM. MR LYELL SEEMED TO KNOW A GREAT MANY THINGS that I had thought secret: the sensitivity of my mission, my destination at Pittsburgh, and now the very existence of the package itself. How he came by his knowledge I could not guess – nor whether it marked him as friend or foe. That mattered nothing. Lowering in my doorway, his fat eyes trained on me like carronades, he was irrefusable.
I crossed the room, knelt by the fireplace, and prised up the hearthstone. The package lay in the hollow beneath, untouched and undisturbed where I had left it that morning. Reluctantly, I lifted it out.
‘If this was what they wanted, they’ll have left empty-handed.’
I sat down on the mutilated bedstead – what would they have done to me had they found me there, I wondered? – and wrapped my arms about myself to keep from shivering. Nevell’s blithe assurances that this would be a harmless errand were coming to seem ever more indefensible. And I feared Mr Lyell now assumed me his accomplice. How could I escape him without stirring his suspicions?
‘I cannot stay in New York a moment longer,’ I declared. ‘The threat to my mission is too great.’ To say nothing of the threat to my person.
Lyell stared at me darkly, perhaps weighing my true motives. I blanched under his gaze. ‘Naturally this is a dramatic turn of events, but you must have expected it. Our enemies will not sit idly by. You must refrain from hasty judgements, and you will not find a coach to Pittsburgh at this hour. We will leave in the morning.’
I strove to think of some gambit to dissuade him. For once, inspiration came promptly. ‘Surely it would be unwise for us to travel together? We should not risk all our eggs in the same basket.’
‘Once I would have agreed with you. We should not even have come this far in the same vessel. But now that our enemies have shown their determination, consolidarity is our truest hope. I am a man of commerce, not war – I rely on you, Lieutenant, to guard me.’
If that was his hope, then I might yet be rid of him all too easily. I was about to attempt one last protest but he spoke over me.
‘Anyway, you cannot leave this evening. There is a meeting I must attend tonight and I will need your protection.’
At least that might take me away from the hotel, perhaps to the safe surrounds of a bank or a room in a gentleman’s club.
‘Where is the meeting?’
‘In a graveyard.’
We stole out of the hotel like thieves, swathed in our dark greatcoats. It was a cold night, and our breath puffed out in clouds before us, but we did not have far to go. At the far end of Wall Street, past the silent eminences of the great banks and government buildings, we found a towering church spire and an iron gate beside it.
Lyell turned to me. ‘Are you armed, Lieutenant?’
My low spirits managed to plumb a still greater depth. ‘Should I be?’
Lyell rolled his eyes, not deigning to answer my question.
‘The men who ransacked my room took my pistol.’
Lyell reached into the pocket of his greatcoat, withdrew a pistol and handed it to me. Its rare quality was immediately evident. The octagonal barrel seemed almost to aim itself, steady even in my nervous hand, and the trigger felt feather-light under my finger. Moonlight picked out the name etched on the lock. MANTON.
‘They tell me nothing kills a man more reliably,’ Lyell gloated. ‘Not, of course, that I hope to need it.’
He squeezed through the gate, and I followed him into the mournful surrounds of the cemetery. I might almost have imagined myself on some wild moor or desolate heath, for the path wound between humped tussocks and mounds, and high trees grew wild. The gravestones stood like slabs of silver in the moonlight, some remarkably weathered for so young a city.
With mounting terror I followed Lyell. His black vastness was like a cloud before me, a malevolent presence which damped out the moonlight wherever he trod. He led me quickly to a remote corner, and a monument which looked more a mausoleum than a grave: an elevated sarcophagus topped with a stone pyramid, with urns and fluted columns at each corner. It was ominously fresh: no moss discoloured the white marble, and the inscription was sharp from the mason’s chisel. I leaned close to read it.
To the memory of Alexander Hamilton
The PATRIOT of incorruptible INTEGRITY
The SOLDIER of approved VALOR
The STATESMAN of consummate WISDOM
I had never heard of this moral prodigy. ‘Who was he?’
‘The Secretary of the Treasury. He was shot in a duel.’
That did not sound like consummate wisdom to me. ‘By whom?’
‘The Vice-President of the United States.’
Clearly I had much to learn about the political life of our former colony. Before I could wonder at it, though, I heard the crunch of footsteps on the path behind. I spun about. A man was walking towards us, a black cloak wrapped around his shoulders and a hat shielding his face. I glanced at Lyell. He did not seem alarmed – indeed, was stepping forward to greet the man – but I put a hand on my pistol just in case.
‘Mr Lyell,’ said the new arrival. He was an American. ‘Welcome to New York.’
‘A fine welcome it’s been so far. Our enemies have already torn Lieutenant Jerrold’s room to pieces trying to find the message he carries.’
The hat turned towards me. ‘I guess you weren’t in the room at the time?’
‘Fortunately not.’
He proffered a hand. ‘Sam Ogden.’
‘Martin Jerrold.’
‘Lieutenant Jerrold represents the naval aspect of our designs,’ Lyell explained.
Mr Ogden nodded. ‘I was expecting they’d send Beauchamp.’
‘Our plans changed at the last minute. Beauchamp was to have sailed on a navy vessel, but our adversaries got wind of it. Then he was to go on a packet, the same as mine. At the last minute Lieutenant Jerrold took his place.’ Lyell looked at me keenly. ‘We have not had much opportunity to discuss it thus far – I felt it best to mask our connection until we had arrived.’
‘Less said, least heard,’ Ogden agreed. ‘I’ve heard you had a touch of trouble on your voyage.’
‘A Spanish privateer.’
‘Do you think she knew your business?’
Lyell shrugged. ‘Thankfully, Lieutenant Jerrold crippled her and made good our escape before we could find out.’
‘That won’t be the last trouble you’ll meet, I’d wager. The Spanish already have their agents sniffing about, and the British won’t be far behind. You’ll likely need that pistol in your pocket before you get to Pittsburgh.’
It is hard to exaggerate the pure misery I felt at that moment. To be in a graveyard in the dark, desperately ignorant of the scheme that had snared me, with two men who would kill me if they learned of my duplicity, was not how I had hoped to spend my time in America. I leaned against the late Mr Hamilton’s tomb, though the knowledge of his fate made it little comfort to me. For a moment I genuinely considered pulling out my pistol and shooting Lyell dead, but I had only one shot and I doubted I would escape Mr Ogden and his associates for long in that unfamiliar city.
Meanwhile, he and Lyell were still talking.
‘Have you managed to dispose of my bullion?’ Lyell asked.
‘The tea you brought from England? That’s been up and down Manhattan today more times than a South Street whore. A deposit here, collateral there; finance to underwrite a speculation in the Gennessee somewhere else. I’ve turned it into more bills, bonds, certificates and stocks than you could imagine. We even turned sixty dollars’ profit on a trade in government paper.’
‘Mr Hamilton would be delighted,’ said Lyell, rapping a fist on the sarcophagus beside him.
Ogden laughed. ‘Don’t tell the colonel.’ Reaching under his cloak, he opened a leather bag and pulled out a sheaf of papers. ‘It’s all in the bank now, and I’ll be hanged if anyone can figure out how it got there, let alone how it got in the country. Here are some cheques and drafts for you to take to the colonel.’
Lyell stuffed them in his pocket. ‘Much obliged. You’ve performed an invaluable service.’
‘I’m like you, Mr Lyell – an investor in search of returns.’
‘You will find them,’ Lyell promised.
‘I hope so. Give my regards to the colonel.’
And with that cryptic remark, Mr Ogden vanished into the autumn night. After a discreet interval, Lyell and I followed.
‘We should rise early tomorrow,’ he told me as we reached the hotel. ‘We must be away before our enemies can find us.’
But no matter how early we left, it seemed there was no hope of that for me while I travelled with Mr Lyell.