Deirdre approached her mother with a proposal which she believed would not cause an objection.
“Mama, I’ve saved a few dollars from the quilts I’ve sold. I’d like to use the money for a train ticket to visit the convent of the Sisters of Charity, the order of nuns that taught me in school. They accept postulants for formation before they enter the order. It’s up in the Bronx. They wrote to me and said I could come for a visit any time. Maureen said she would come with me.”
“Of course, dear, that would be lovely. Now aren’t ye glad I started ye quiltin’ over to the Church?”
“Yes, Mama, it will come in handy just now.”
“Will ye be staying overnight, when ye go up to the convent?”
“Yes, they offer overnight stays for girls who might be interested. Maureen would go along to keep me company. I don’t really think she’s interested in a vocation, but she said she would go with me.”
Maggie with the innate wisdom of motherhood and her years of experience knew better than to question Deirdre’s sudden turnabout. She suspected that something had gone amiss with her daughter’s infatuation with her mysterious soldier-boy, but chose to remain silent on the matter. Her instinct told her that to bring up a sensitive subject at this point would only result in another emotional scene.
“When will ye be takin’ the train?” she asked to keep the conversation on a neutral plane.
“We checked at the station, Mama. There’s a train to Kingsbridge on Friday afternoon. We’ll stay the weekend and be back after Mass on Sunday. That will give me a chance to see if it’s the right thing for me.”
“That’s very nice, dear. I’ll help you pack a bag come Friday.”
“Thank you, Mama.”
Deirdre went for a stroll along Canal Street with Maureen. Deep in thought, Deirdre kept her silence for several blocks as they weaved among the crowds of people and the heavy wagon traffic on the busy thoroughfare.
Finally, Maureen said: “I’m happy to keep you company on this visit, Deedee. But are you sure you aren’t being a little too hasty? Johnny might come back with a perfectly reasonable explanation.”
“I’m not sure about anything right now. That’s why I want to go someplace and try to sort out my feelings. If Johnny is gone then I need to know what I’ll do. He could be lost in the war. He may get sent someplace far away and I’d never see him again, or he could be off with that – that woman.”
She said this last with a vehemence she had seldom before expressed.
Maureen chose not to attempt to brighten her friend’s mood with any further words of encouragement that she knew might sound hollow at this moment. They walked along in silence until Maureen suggested that they stop and buy something to eat from one of the street vendors that proliferated on the busy street. Thus preoccupied, neither girl saw Nate Boyer pass by driving a wagon with a team of horses and slow down to peer intently at Deirdre in an effort to be sure he recognized her as the girl he had seen with Johnny.
The passengers from Toronto continuing further south changed trains at Albany. Johnny remained unobtrusive during this transition and kept watch on Letitia and the man traveling with her. He noted the man’s appearance; tall, well-dressed with carefully groomed dark hair. Johnny made close observations of Letitia’s demeanor. In contrast to her resistance at the station in Toronto, she now seemed relaxed in the man’s company. The two chatted amiably, sharing food purchased at the Albany depot while awaiting the next southbound train to New York City.
Johnny’s hunger and fatigue began to overwhelm him. The tension and exertion of his confrontation with the two kidnappers near the hotel and his race to the Toronto rail station had taken their toll. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a meal. His legs turned to rubber and dizziness threatened to topple him over where he stood.
When Letitia and her companion, deep in conversation, moved toward the opposite edge of the platform away from the ticket office building where the food vendor conducted his business, Johnny crept forward to buy a quick snack. He ate it in the shadows of the building. The conductor announced the next train, bound for New York City from Albany, with several stops in between. As soon as Letitia and the man with her boarded the train, Johnny ducked quickly into the car behind, found a seat near the window and drifted into a fitful sleep.
A light snow had fallen when the train pulled into the City Hall Park stop. It glazed the cobblestones with a slippery gloss and soon turned to slush, muddied by the carriage and wagon traffic along the thoroughfares that branched out from the railway station. At the City Hall station Johnny waited until Letitia and the man with her left the train. They hailed one of the cabs waiting for fares at the station, loaded her luggage and set off north on the Bowery. He alighted from the train and headed on foot to his rooming house. Clad only in his light jacket, the raw, damp cold penetrated to his bones. A hot bath with water heated by the landlady and a night’s sleep seemed like the tonic he needed. Suddenly he realized that the gang at the warehouse might have found out from Letitia where he stayed. He decided to walk a block further along Prince Street and get a room in another boarding house. Tomorrow he could find Donellan and Philips, report what had happened in Canada, and get new instructions.
Nate Boyer waited at a distance in his carriage scanning the passengers. When Letitia and her escort climbed into the cab he paused to allow them to leave the station before he set out for the warehouse. Just about to urge his horse forward, Nate’s head snapped around. Not someone easily startled, he imagined for the briefest second that he saw a ghost. Johnny walked into his field of vision, without baggage but apparently unharmed. Nate reined his horse which stamped and shook its head at the sudden change in the command. He waited until Johnny disappeared into the busy traffic of Centre Street and started up the Bowery. Nate snapped the reins once again sending the horse into a fast trot. Simeon would need to know that Johnny had returned. He needed also to report that a well-dressed stranger had arrived with Letitia. Meanwhile, Johnny continued to trudge on foot to find new rooms hoping to catch up on his sleep.
The two Federal detectives began to make efforts to locate the counterfeiting machinery which the agents from the Society had moved. They went to Barr’s Warehouse during a time when the work crews seemed to have no wagon loads to transfer. The laborers sat on the loading dock smoking and chatting among themselves. Donellan approached while Philips waited across the street.
“Good afternoon,” he said to the entire group, “I wonder if any of you can tell me if Mr Barr is in his office?”
His inquiry met with stony silence on the part of the workmen.
“Reason I’m asking, I have a message for Simeon Barr from friends of his. I thought perhaps you could tell me where to find him.”
Not one of the workmen stirred or looked up to meet his gaze. They all stared pointedly in different directions. At that moment, Nate Boyer walked out onto the platform and barked at Detective Donellan: “Whaddya want askin’ these men anythin’?”
Donellan’s eyes met and returned Boyer’s hostile glare. “And you are …?”
“If it’s any concern of yers, I’m Nate Boyer, the foreman. Ya got no business here, just beat it. Leave my work crew be.”
“I have a message for Simeon Barr, if it’s any business of yours.”
“It is my business, so if ya got nothin’ to do around here, keep walkin’.”
Donellan choose not to prolong the acrimonious exchange, certain that there would come a day soon when the tables would turn. For now he walked slowly away. Philips followed a short distance on other side of the road. Donellan crossed the road to join his partner.
“Not much gained from that conversation,” Donellan said with a rueful shake of his head.
Nate Boyer approached Bertie Swinton, a man from among his loading gang he knew had formerly occupied himself as a Bowery thug, a petty thief and lush-roller, robbing helpless drunks of their last few cents. His associates in crime had given him the uncomplimentary nickname ‘Pighead’ because of his broad face and squashed nose. Three months in the new city prison, ‘The Tombs’, so named for its architectural similarity to an ancient Egyptian temple, caused Pighead to rethink his chosen profession for a time. After Pighead had served his sentence, Boyer recruited him to join his loading crew. Now Nate needed an accomplice without a delicate conscience.
Nate called Pighead aside. “Listen, I need a job done. There’s a couple of greenbacks in it for ya, ya get it done right.”
“Yeah, how much is a couple?” Pighead asked.
“I can make it worth yer while, say twenty-five dollars.”
“What I gotta do to earn that much scratch?”
Nate lowered his voice despite their distance from the nearest bystander. “We need to grab a girl, see. She lives around here …”
Pighead’s beady eyes narrowed, a crooked leer crossed his lips.
“Now, don’t go getting’ the wrong idea. Ain’t nothin’ like that. We don’t want her harmed. Just gonna use her as bait,” Nate said. “If ya can’t do as yer told, I’ll get somebody else.” He emphasized his point with a finger jabbed into Pighead’s chest.
“Yeah, I got it,” Pighead snapped. “Just tell me what I gotta do and when.”
“I’ll let ya know.” Nate answered. “Just stay available.”
Pighead leered again. “Do we get to have fun after?”
“Just do what yer told and ya get paid. There won’t be any ‘after’,” Nate snarled.
At the warehouse Nate burst into Simeon’s office without knocking, exhibiting unaccustomed discourtesy. Simeon began to criticize him for his rudeness. “Nate, I’m in the middle of something …”
The two men with Simeon turned quickly at the sound of Nate’s abrupt entry. He recognized them as the men from the Society. One of them thrust his hand inside his coat and grasped a pistol concealed there.
“Boss, there’s something ya gotta know right away,” he said breathing heavily.
The man with the pistol relaxed when he recognized Nate.
“Nate, what’s so important it can’t wait ’til I’ve finished my meeting?” Simeon asked with a hint of impatience in his voice.
“Well, try this on. Letitia’s back but she’s got somebody with her. Besides which, that Sullivan kid got off the train behind her. He’s back and I don’t think they were together.”
“That Sullivan kid,” Simeon snorted in frustration. “He must have gotten away from those people in Canada. Now we’ll have to do something here. I was hoping to avoid that. Those Federal detectives have been sniffing around, haven’t they, Nate?”
“Yeah, I had to run one of them off the other day,” Nate said. “I got this idea to make that kid come runnin’. He must know we’re onto him by now. If we grab this girl he meets, maybe we can use her as bait.”
“Ain’t that gonna cause an unnecessary ruckus with the police?” Gage asked.
“Nah, they’ll both disappear. In a town like this, who’s gonna know what happened to them? The cops may think they run off together.”
“I don’t know, Nate …” Simeon began to object.
“Ya can’t lose yer nerve now, Simeon. Who knows how much he’s told that girl? Besides, we got bigger fish to fry,” Nate argued. “We can’t let a couple of pipsqueaks ruin what we got planned.”
Rhodes, the other man from the Society joined in, directing his comments to Simeon: “We’d have to do it fast before any cops get wind of our scheme. That man came down from Canada with your granddaughter; he’s a Confederate officer, the one we’ve been waiting for.”
“What about them two Federals always snoopin’ around’?” Nate asked. “How’re we gonna keep them from messin’ with our plans?”
“We just steer them wrong, is all,” Gage said.
“How we do that?” Nate asked.
“We put the word out someone knows where the counterfeitin’ machinery is, but in the wrong place. They come lookin’, nobody’s there. Meantime, we get rid of the kid and the girl and put our big plan into action.”