The president had been listening intently and now posed a question to Tom. “I get the feeling there was more to the books than some dusty history. Am I correct, Mr. Kelly?”
“You are, Mr. President. The books were full of names, addresses, dates, and most importantly, code ciphers. The history was extensively documented, but that’s not what made the books so dangerous to possess years after the revolution. It was the data on the writers themselves and the organization that had grown from their small beginnings that changed the course of my research and has implications in this room today.”
“What was in the books?” asked the attorney general.
“The books were the founding documents of a secret group of loyalist informers, spies, code breakers, and messengers. They styled themselves as the counterpoint to the emerging secret police, the Cheka, which eventually became the KGB. Their goal was to be ready to go fully operational to help rebuild the old Russia when the time came, but it never came.” said Tom.
“So, a secret group formed out of the rubble of the last Tsar’s government and they existed for several years hoping to see their old way of life returned,” Robert Kennedy mulled the idea over.
“Not exactly, sir. The passing of the original group, including the groundskeeper didn’t mark the end of the mission,” answered Tom.
“What happened to them?” asked the president.
“They regrouped, sir. Over time new contacts were recruited and placed in all the major cities of the Soviet Union as well as in rural villages. They’re even active in Siberia. It was through their network that I infiltrated the ‘official’ clandestine chain of communication between our nations. They call themselves обходной канал информации. It translates in English to Back Channel. They’ve kept up with advances in spycraft and technology and years ago they established a new headquarters.”
“Where?” asked the president?
“New Haven, Connecticut, sir.”
CHAPTER 41
CALVIN WALKER
1963
At five o’clock in the morning, Calvin finally got out of bed to get ready for his day. He hadn’t slept a wink and he couldn’t be still any longer. A few minutes before six, he folded Dr. King’s handwritten speech draft and put it in his pocket. He hoped it would be enough to get Fish to trust him and give up the information he needed.
By the time he met Tiny across the street from the Willard the scene was pretty spectacular. Buses were backed up on both sides of 14th Street, discharging their passengers for the walk to the Washington Monument where the march was scheduled to begin. Billed as the “March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom,” the event had brought people from across the country to the nation’s capital. Tens of thousands had already gathered and by the time the speeches were scheduled to be delivered more than 250,000 would line the National Mall. Most of the attendees were black, but there were thousands of white people and some of other races as well. It was their inclusion that rankled the more radical groups including Kifo.
Calvin and Tiny skirted the gathering crowd and walked back to the apartment where the group was huddled together. Fish didn’t look surprised to see Calvin. He still feared the man was an undercover police officer or FBI agent, but he was intrigued enough by the possibility of getting close to Dr. King that he let the situation play itself out. He would decide soon whether or not to continue with Calvin or have him dispatched by one of his eager lieutenants.
Calvin approached Fish and held out the sheets of paper.
“What’s this?” Fish asked.
“It’s the proof you asked for. That is the speech Dr. King will deliver today at the march. I was with him last night when he was working on it.”
“And where was this?”
“At the Willard Hotel,” Calvin responded.
The answer was apparently humorous to Fish and when he chuckled his acolytes followed suit. “So you and Dr. King were just sittin’ around writin’ speeches in that fancy place next door to the White House? They must have a colored wing I never heard of.”
“It’s the truth, Fish,” Tiny said. It was only the second time Calvin had heard the man’s voice. “I stayed there too and they had the softest bed you ever did lay down on and I ate dinner three times and didn’t pay for none of it.”
“And what was Williams doing while you were eatin’ dinner three times?”
“He had to go to get your proof and he got this speech,” Tiny said.
“Did you see him with King?” Fish asked.
“No. He told me to stay in my room and order room service.”
Now the others were laughing and Tiny looked like he might take them all out like a giant bowling ball thrown at ten laughing pins.
“So you had yourself a nice evening while Williams wrote himself some notes last night. Is that right?” Fish demanded.
Tiny looked at his shoes and gradually withdrew from the group.
“I didn’t write those pages,” Calvin said. “Those are the handwritten notes Dr. King made and he will say those words this afternoon in front of the crowd.”
“Why should I believe you? How do I know he gonna say this?”
Because everybody in the country knows he said those words, you stupid moron.
But, of course, no one did know. At least not yet. This shifting of time was playing tricks with Calvin’s sleep-deprived brain. Fish was right. There was no way to prove who had written the notes. Just then, Calvin had a thought. He went for it.
“Look, I’m pretty sure you know a good bit about Dr. King. As a matter of fact, I’d say you’re obsessed with him and with the others. You know what they’re preaching from their pulpits. Just take a few minutes and read the speech. You’ll recognize the things he’s saying.”
Fish looked for a moment like he was finished with the conversation and Calvin feared he was about to be turned over to the salivating underlings. But there was something about their leader that gave him a ray of hope that he might survive a few more minutes. Calvin could tell that despite the bad grammar and tough attitude, Fish was not a stupid man. In fact, it almost seemed like he was purposely dumbing himself down to impress the others. He might have been onto something because Fish sat down at the table and began to read. By the end he was angry and he slammed the pages down.
“That’s the problem with this whole damn group! All this talk about dreams and dignity. Where is the dignity in bowing down to white men and asking them to please let you walk through the front door of the store? Who gives a damn about dreams for little black boys that grow up in the streets and hope one day to get a job cleaning some white man’s office? The time for talkin’ and askin’ is over. We been free a hundred years and we still got to step aside and put our head down when a white lady cross the street. And they put on bed sheets and burn crosses and say they Christians. No sir, this ain’t no time for dreams. Today we gonna bring them something that will haunt their dreams.”
Fish had begun pacing the room while he delivered his diatribe. He turned to the group and told them to leave Calvin alone, that he’d be going with them today. The men looked vaguely disappointed, but were quickly fired up by Fish’s fervor and they began unpacking the boxes Calvin had seen them carrying in the day before. What Calvin needed to do was nail down Fish’s plan for getting Dr. King and get back to the Willard so Chase could get the FBI involved. Even just being around for a couple of days, Calvin recognized the FBI would not take his word, the word of a black man, seriously enough to stop what was going to happen over the next few hours. He needed Chase’s help.
He was still thinking about how the FBI would step in to protect Dr. King and the other organizers while they raided this den of would-be assassins. But when he took a closer look at what the men were taking from the boxes his blood ran cold. They didn’t have the kind of equipment used to take out a high-value target like rifles and scopes. What they were unpacking was chosen to do damage over a much larger area. They may have hoped
to get a Dr. King or a John Lewis in the process, but these men had clearly come prepared to take out as many spectators as possible. Calvin recognized his problem was much bigger than he had thought when he realized he was standing in the center of a room full of bombs.
CHAPTER 42
OLIVIA FORDHAM
1913
Olivia invited Victoria to her suite and when the young woman arrived she could tell the anger that had been stirred up in her was still brewing.
“Please have a seat, Victoria. I understand you had words with the young gentleman.”
“I wouldn’t call him a gentleman, unless rudeness passes for manners in Virginia,” Victoria answered petulantly.
“Well, you only met the man so it’s no problem that he turned out to be so wretched. Isn’t that right, dear?”
Victoria appeared torn. She was nodding her head like she agreed with that statement but the look on her face betrayed her.
“It’s just that he was so smug and so, so. . . . so,”
“So what dear?”
“So old-fashioned!”
“Then it’s a good thing you’ll never have to see him again. I can see that he upset you, not to mention he’s an abominable driver. I suggest we never speak of him again.”
“I mean, he was so sure of himself and so interested in what his mother, of all people, thinks. She must be a hundred years old!”
“You’re right, darling. He’s definitely not worth a moment’s worry on your part. Let’s talk about something more pleasant.”
Olivia could see Victoria considering the idea of never speaking of him again and it wasn’t sitting well with her. That was exactly what Olivia was hoping for.
“I don’t think he’s a bad person, really. He just has old-fashioned ideas.”
“All the more reason for a modern young woman like you to stay away from such a cad.”
“Oh, he wasn’t a cad. He was very kind and solicitous. He was terribly embarrassed by what happened with the car and ever so worried about you.”
“As he should be, that irresponsible wretch!”
“No, he’s not irresponsible. He’s in college and planning to go to law school and his brother is a lawyer who does work with the United States Congress. I think he comes from a very important family in Virginia and they have champion horses. I think they even have a Kentucky Derby winner on their farm.”
“My, but you learned a great deal about the young man while I was changing clothes.”
“Yes, and he asked all about me and seemed very interested until I told him why I’d come to Washington. But I just told you myself that I wasn’t sure why I had come or what I hoped to do here. I just said that to you this very afternoon and then I jumped all over him when he didn’t seem to understand why a woman would want to have the vote.”
“Do you think it’s possible you might have jumped to the wrong conclusion about his attitude?” Olivia asked.
“I suppose so. But he did talk about horses knowing where they were supposed to go and I think he was talking about women knowing their place.”
“That’s quite an assumption. Did he actually say that?”
Victoria thought about it and her face began to change.
“No, he didn’t say that exactly and I was being awfully rude to him.”
Olivia decided to move in for the goal.
“Well, it doesn’t matter because it’s unlikely you’ll ever see him again. I’m sure it’s just as well.”
Victoria looked stricken. “Never?” Her mind was spinning. Olivia offered a solution.
“I suppose it’s possible Mr. Chase might know how to reach him. That is, if you fancy him and would like to see him again.”
Victoria’s face lit up and a blush rose to her cheeks.
“It wouldn’t be the most terrible idea to invite him to dinner tonight to thank him for driving us to the hotel and to clear up any misunderstandings, would it?”
Olivia answered. “No, I don’t think it would be the most terrible idea.”
“I’ll call Mr. Chase right away.” She ran for the phone and made the arrangements. Chase said he should have no problem getting in touch with Mr. Asher.
On her way out the door to get ready for dinner Victoria made one more statement.
“I’m sure when we talk it over tonight he’ll be reasonable and see things my way.”
She bounded down the hall and left Olivia holding the door and shaking her head.
James was thrilled to receive word from Edward Chase that Mrs. Fordham and Miss Webster had requested the pleasure of his company for dinner. His brother had work for him to do, but when he saw the hangdog look James was wearing he told him to get out of the office and go see the girl. James took his time dressing and left with extra time in case he had issues with the motorcar. He arrived early at the Willard and was seated in the dining room where he was joined by the ladies.
Olivia had changed into a lovely black dress with an open collar. With her silver hair she was striking, but it was Victoria who turned heads all through the lobby and the dining room. She had put on her best pale blue gown and woven a string of beads through her hair, which was pulled away from her face and left to cascade down her back. James felt his breath catch and he stood there stupidly silent as they approached. He came to himself when he realized he hadn’t pulled out a chair for either of the ladies. He seated Olivia first and then gallantly held the chair for Victoria.
Dinner was served and the conversation stayed in the safe realm of Who’s Who in Middleburg, Philadelphia, and New York. It turned out James and Victoria had many acquaintances in common. The longer they talked, the more enamored each seemed to be of the other. Olivia was feeling good about things and was about to excuse herself from the table when the first hint of trouble started. James had mentioned he’d be on the Hill in the morning working with his brother and Victoria said she was planning to report for duty at the NAWSA office. That sparked another round of criticism on his part and, contrary to Victoria’s earlier prediction, he never did see things her way. If the young woman had come to Washington unsure of her place in the movement her stubborn streak had risen up and solidified her resolve after she heard James continue to put down the group.
Olivia tried to intervene to keep the peace, but by that time both young people had decided they weren’t giving an inch. The only bright spot was when James had looked at Victoria and said, “A girl like you is too special and too lovely to put herself at risk at such an event.”
If that statement was meant to pacify Victoria it had the opposite effect.
“For your information, a girl like me is exactly the type and you will see me marching down Pennsylvania Avenue two days from now with other girls like me!”
They were both standing now and their voices were raised enough to draw the attention of the other diners.
“I won’t see any such thing because I have better things to do than watch a bunch of busybodies parading themselves about.”
“That’s just as well. I’m sure your mother wouldn’t approve!”
“No, she would not!”
“Good evening, Mr. Asher.”
“Good evening, Miss Webster.”
Once they had stormed out Chase brought Olivia a glass of red wine and she drank the whole thing and asked him to send the rest of the bottle to her suite.
CHAPTER 43
CATHERINE PARKER
1865
Edward Chase saw Catherine walk through the revolving door and start across the lobby. She seemed to be carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders as she sat down in a chair under an elaborate chandelier.
In fact, Catherine was feeling numb from her encounter with Anna Surratt. All the way back she had wanted to tell the driver to turn around, to go back. But she knew she couldn’t go back, and she felt like she had condemned a woman to her death. She sank into the chair in the lobby and soon sensed the presence of Chase beside her.
“A difficult mornin
g, Ms. Parker?”
“I don’t think I can do this,” she answered without looking up at him. The lobby was very crowded but she didn’t even look around to see if anyone might overhear her next comment. “If there is a chance to save the president how can I not take it?”
Suddenly she was angry and she looked right into Chase’s eyes as he sat down in the chair next to her. She laid into him in a fervent whisper. “I’m a good person. I have spent my life preparing to do something good for other people, or taking care of people, or thinking about ways to help people!” She knew she was starting to ramble. “What I mean is, I’m the kind of person who does the right thing, Mr. Chase, even when I really, really don’t want to.”
Chase nodded, but he didn’t interrupt her. She was on a roll.
“My father never spent one moment wondering how to help me get through school and my mother didn’t let it trouble her that one day their problems would fall on me. My brother is spineless and his wife is evil and it did fall on me. All of it! I didn’t want to go back to Dayton but I went! I didn’t want to give up my own dreams to spend my life picking up the pieces of someone else’s, but I did that too! And now I have this one amazing chance to help people and, yes, to better my own life in the process, and here you come all one thousand years old and tell me I have to hang around in this stinking nineteenth century mud hole and, oh yeah, make sure the most beloved president of all time gets shot in the head. That there is even a chance of that NOT happening is beyond the scope of rational thought and, yet, you want me to do what is absolutely foreign to me and that’s to see to it that someone who doesn’t deserve to die does, in fact, die at the hands of a narcissistic madman! Well, I can’t do it, Mr. Chase! And I won’t do it, so figure some way out of this and let me get back to my life!” Catherine was spent from the effort but she felt a sudden lightness. It was that simple, she just wasn’t going to do it.
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