Shooting For Justice

by G. Wayne Tilman

As he approached the house, several fine-looking hounds, tri-color fox hounds, probably, came out and set up a ruckus. It made him think of Scout.

  A tall man appeared on the front porch. He stood near a column he could duck behind if shooting started. Pope would have done the same thing.

  He was darkly handsome and probably forty years old. His hands were loose at his sides. Pope would have bet a year’s salary a revolver and maybe a Bowie knife were in his waistband in back.

  “Buck, Tar! It’s okay boys. I have it now. Sit!” he called, and the dogs returned to his side and sat protectively one either side of where he stood.

  “Are you Mr. Kane?” Pope asked.

  “Who’s asking?”

  “My name is John Pope. I am an army provost marshal on loan to the attorney general.”

  “Mr. Pope, do you have a way to prove it?”

  “I do. I have a written warrant naming me provost marshal for the secretary of war and a deputy US marshal badge from the attorney general, who swore me in himself.”

  “Why don’t you get down and show me these things, then we can commence talking about whatever brought you to Topping Castle?”

  “Fair enough.”

  Pope had already determined the Morgan horse would stand with his reins dropped, so he walked slowly towards the man and the dogs.

  “I don’t know about you, Mr. Kane. But I detest the English saddles. How do you all stay on them foxhunting?”

  Kane smiled.

  “Despite the dogs, I don’t foxhunt. I irritate my neighbors by not allowing them to foxhunt on my land. And there is not one of those silly saddles anywhere in my stables, Mr. Pope. Or should I call you Deputy Pope? Maybe Provost Pope?” he asked.

  “Most people just call me Pope.”

  “There is a gunfighting Wells Fargo detective named Pope. Has a beautiful ex-Pinkerton lady detective partner. I read she’s almost as deadly as him.”

  “Actually, Mr. Kane, she’s a lot more dangerous. A helluva lot,” Pope said confirming his identity.

  “What brings you here? I take it you are not Wells Fargo anymore.”

  “I was asked to come to Washington and investigate for the government. My case is sensitive. It involves an attack on certain government assets in Washington. I cannot divulge much more. But, in a recent conversation in Dallas I was referred to you.”

  “How much did Joe, Jr. say to you, Pope?” Kane asked suggesting Kane’s knowledge of his talk with Shelby was more than just speculation.

  “He was very careful and would not answer any questions about the Knights of the Golden Circle, its leadership or funding. He promised me he was not aware of anything involving them or GC Financial which involved an attack on government resources. He said for anything before his six months on the job, I would have to ask you.”

  “I am not aware of anything which would imperil the government or any person in it, either,” Kane said.

  “How about trustees using your funding in a manner where you would be unaware of the actual use?”

  “The procedures I set up years ago should prevent such a thing. There are…influencers associated with the group who might undertake getting rid of someone they thought was a problem for some reason.

  “To get money to finance an operation, it would have to be applied for in writing and vetted by the entire board of trustees. These men do not act as a rubber stamp, Mr. Pope. They keep each other in line.”

  A very lovely woman appeared in the doorway behind Kane.

  “Michael, do we have a guest?” she asked.

  “We do, my dear. And, I suspect hospitality and prudence should have told me to have our conversation inside and over a beverage and perhaps lunch.”

  “Let me look to lunch. I will leave you to the liquid refreshments.” She moved away. Pope got a sense of her floating away. She was beautiful, but not as much so as his Sarah.

  “Pope, please come in.”

  Pope followed the man inside, through an entry hall, a parlor and to a small dining room. He was sure there was a larger dining room for entertaining. This was probably where Kane and his wife ate. A sunroom, it also had comfortable chairs and bookshelves.

  “Perhaps we can finish the official part of our chat before my wife returns with lunch?” Kane said firmly, though posed as a question.

  “I’m sure we can,” Pope replied.

  “I am interested someone who the news rags claim has solved many of Wells Fargo’s thorniest mysteries and killed its most dangerous outlaws was called to Washington. The threat must be very major. An assassination at the highest level, an overthrow of a government agency. A defamation with enough evidence to fuel an impeachment,” Kane said.

  “As you are not at liberty to violate the trust agreement the Golden Circle lives by, I am also not at liberty to say the specific threat,” Pope said.

  “You are very close to the threat identification, Mr. Kane. I will add the suspect list is larger than one might expect. I am in the process of reducing the suspect list by elimination now.”

  “I am glad you do not consider the Knights or their funding a major suspect.”

  “My suspicions are diminishing,” Pope admitted.

  “President Arthur is an odd duck,” Kane began.

  “He did not set out to be president and I don’t get the impression he wants to be one now. When Garfield was wounded and died of infection, people said ‘Chet Arthur is President? How odd!’ Yet, he has done remarkably well. Many of his major endeavors have pleased the people and made special interests very mad. Some of those special interests are very powerful. I can see you have your work cut out for you. Is your partner helping?” Kane asked.

  “She is, though under her housewife cover, is doing more research than investigations. Nobody but the president has identified us as quickly as you did. Most of the people in Washington are so absorbed with what is best for them they have no time to worry about anyone else. I think it makes them very vulnerable.”

  “I agree wholeheartedly, Pope. Not to move suspicion away from my former employer, but have you considered how cheap it would be to eliminate a head of government? Or, so simple to amass evidence against him to impeach him?” Kane asked.

  “You are right. Just get a crazy and spend enough to arm and liquor him up. Which is why we have subtly hardened the President’s House and the movements of the president himself,” Pope said.

  “My guys stopped a man with a gun beating on the President’s House door at two in the morning recently. He claimed under questioning he was going to shoot the president because Chinese were taking “good American” jobs,” Pope added.

  “You know the scariest thing about our republic?” Kane asked. He proceeded to answer before Pope could respond.

  “Uninformed idiots like him vote.”

  “Yes. Terrifying,” Pope responded, “but, perhaps the cost of freedom.”

  “Afraid so. Changing the subject…” He was interrupted by Rita Kane bringing in a silver tray of sandwiches, followed by a pitcher of lemonade.

  “Please join us, darling,” Kane asked. She sat down next to him.

  “Mrs. Kane, I did not expect lunch, but I will appreciatively enjoy it.”

  “May I ask, Mrs. Kane, you seem familiar. I know we have not met. Have I seen you in the papers?” Pope asked.

  “Perhaps. I was an actress before getting married.”

  “I’m sure recognizing you is it, then,” Pope said without probing further. “The sandwiches are wonderful. I really like the salty ham’s flavor,” he continued.

  “It’s Smithfield ham from east of Richmond. Virginia ham is always salty. This seems to Michael and me to be the saltiest and most flavorful. This particular one was from the Joyner’s farm.”

  “With me being from California and my wife from Illinois, we are just beginning to sample Southern cooking in Washington. So far, we love it.”

  “What does your wife do, Mr. Pope?” Rita Booth Kane asked. Kane watched, enjoying hims
elf. He knew his wife would get more out of Pope than he could.

  “Officially, she just puts up with me as a husband now. Previously, she was one of the small cadre of female Pinkerton detectives. Then, I recruited her to Wells Fargo. She is a wonderful detective.”

  “I love seeing women succeed in manly jobs. And you, Mr. Pope, what is your background?”

  “I grew up in Kansas. At ten, I saw an Indian raiding party kill my mother, father and little sister. My grandfather, Israel Pope, was one of the last of the real mountain men. He took me and raised me.”

  “I have heard of him,” Kane said. “I am surprised he did not go after the party.”

  “We did. He knew the tribe from the arrows and who was raiding in the area. We watched them and identified a raiding party of young braves ride out. We saw there were no more left and reckoned they were the ones who killed his and my only kin.

  “We trailed them and picked our place. With lever action rifles, we mowed them down. I hesitate to continue during lunch. The story gets pretty violent,” Pope said.

  “My Rita is pretty tough, Pope. Please continue,” Kane said.

  “We killed them all and scalped them. The scalps were presented to the old chief. Immediately, my grandfather and I had developed the ability to read each other without words. I saw my little sister’s scalp hanging on display. Grandpa knew what I wanted to do. I saw a flicker in his eyes. Given permission, I shot the chief where he stood. We rode off hoping my family could rest in peace.”

  “You did this at ten years old?” Kane asked.

  “I did. I could not have had a better person to raise me than Israel Pope. He set out to teach me everything he knew about hunting, tracking, fighting, even smelling horses and men at a distance. He turned me into an Indian.”

  “Do you hate the Indians for what they did to your family?” Rita asked.

  “No, Ma’am. Not at all. I more hate what we have done to the Indians. The raiding party did what they did. I often have to kill outlaws, but I don’t hate them.”

  “An interesting, but logical approach. One I have taken myself,” Kane said.

  “I have taken up far more of your time than I intended. Thank you for your hospitality and delicious lunch,” Pope said, rising.

  “You are most welcome anytime, Mr. Pope. Next time bring your wife. I would love to meet a lady detective,” Rita said.

  “I’ll show you out,” Kane said.

  They walked out to where the livery horse still stood.

  “This is a good horse. I miss my own, Caesar.”

  “What type horse is he, Pope?”

  “Just a massive walking horse. He is not handsome with his Roman nose. But he can face into a blizzard and trot until I cannot ride anymore.”

  “I feel the same about my black, Hadrian. He is a stallion,” Kane said.

  “Mr. Kane, you had a point which the arrival of lunch interrupted. What was it?”

  “This country has been through too much disruption since 1861 to survive another coup twenty-two years later, or another presidential assassination, only a year after the most recent one. I will poke around with some sources and see what I can find out for you. I am confident nothing will be related to the organization I used to run. I’d know if it was.

  “Shelby Jr. is a good banker. He is not a great leader, so I am often consulted about the impact of requests for large donations on our mission. Nothing even hinting of what you and I have discussed has come up,” Kane said.

  “One of my areas of inquiry is the impact of the Chinese legislation Arthur has pushed. It reduces free or cheap labor for the railroads. The railroad bosses are a powerful and rich group. If you have contacts there, it may be an interesting inquiry to make.”

  Kane gave a wry smile and said, “I’ll see what I can do. How do I get in touch with you?”

  Pope handed him a card.

  He also noticed Kane had always faced him. Kane donned a jacket when walking out the door, despite the warm day. As he turned, Pope saw the faint print of a gun butt under the back flap. And something else. Pope went with his first guess. The handle of a Bowie not unlike the one he also wore.

  When Pope had met Wyatt Earp, it had been like two lions circling and appraising one another. Two deadly beasts wondering who would win in a fight. Pope decided he would. Earp was without fear. Pope knew he could outdraw and outshoot the sometime lawman. Beyond the shadow of a doubt. He also knew Earp would walk into death without a qualm.

  He did not know what kind of gun Kane wore. But he knew to the depths of his heart, if he and Kane drew on each other, Kane would prevail.

  Pope had a finely tuned gunfighter instinct. Kane would kill him before he could get a shot off. He had never had such a thought before. It was profoundly unsettling to Pope.

  He returned the horse and found an eastbound to Richmond and connected for the several hour trip to Washington.

  Pope arrived around dinner time and found Sarah at the hotel. Her research at the Congressional Library had yielded a few names of railroad executives complaining about how Arthur’s Chinese worker legislation would slow the expansion of rail service countrywide. What Sarah interpreted to mean was it would hamper profits.

  Pope told her about his meeting with Shelby in Dallas and with Kane near Charlottesville.

  “See what you can find on Rita Kane. She is an actress and must be famous. The only actress I can name off the top of my head is Lillie Langtry,” Pope asked.

  He related the conversations and what a handsome and interesting couple the Kane’s were.

  “John, there is a part of this story you are not telling me. What is it?”

  He hesitated a full minute before replying.

  “I have never met anyone who I knew was better than me. Someone who could kill me in a fair draw down. I did today. Kane made no effort to show his capabilities, but I felt them. He has killed. And, killed fast people. I feel it. He could kill me without a doubt.”

  “Hmm…I don’t believe it’s true. I don’t know what to say, darling John. If you feel it so strongly, it must be so. I never thought there could be anyone faster than you.”

  “Kane is. I know it. The good thing is I think he’s on our side. He kept the privacy of the Knights group he used to run. But he spoke candidly, man-to-man with me. Almost like old friends would speak. I don’t believe he pulled any wool over my eyes. I think I have a good horse manure detector.”

  “I would love to meet this couple. It sounds like they are like us in a few years. Just richer.”

  “I believe Rita is your age. Kane looks to be about forty or so.”

  “Well, if nothing else, we are working our way through the suspect list. While the Golden Circle people may not be directly involved, we still could have powerful expansionists or railroad interests behind the threat,” Sarah said.

  “I’d still put my money on Conkling at this point, Sarah,” Pope said.

  “Could he be tied in with either of the ones I just named?”

  “I doubt expansionists or railroads. He seems to be a New York political, if not criminal, boss. Have you found anything tying him to activities outside of New York? Maybe as a national politician?” Pope asked.

  “Nary a thing. He seems to have come to Washington to support things benefiting his constituents. Probably himself in so doing,” she said.

  “Have you picked up any sense of a new secessionary movement by the Southern Democrats?”

  “Not really. They are growing in number and influence, but only appear to have the interests of their individual state agricultural and industrial growth on their agendas.”

  “What are we missing, Sarah?” Pope asked.

  “If we are wrong about Conkling, I don’t know. Like you said the other day, what we don’t know is what we don’t know. It will be something out of the blue neither us nor the two secretaries never dreamed about.”

  “What are you seeing as being the most discussed and contentious things in Congress ri
ght now?” Pope asked.

  “There are always arguments and speeches leading to more arguments about the expansion of the Navy.”

  “Is it always the same argument?”

  “No, not at all. A lot of people in both houses oppose it because the money takes funds away from their states or their pet interests. Those interests taken alone are not much. Taken together, they represent a lot of Congressional power.

  “Do we need a bigger Navy? So much at one time? Changing from wooden ships to steel ones? Which Navy shipyards should get which slices of the shipbuilding pie? What ships should come first?”

  “Sarah, let’s go back to your next-to-last. About the shipyards. Are you saying commercial shipyards don’t build Navy ships?”

  “I am. The Navy has its own shipyards. Which in itself is a bone of contention. It seems it costs more to build a warship in a Navy shipyard than in one which builds commercial ships. Since the shipyards employ civilian builders, they have to hire crews of specialty workers for each ship approved for them. So, the interests of cities and states come back on the scene because a ship provides more jobs for some period of time.”

  “Despite Arthur trying to do away with the spoils system for government jobs, spoils still describes almost everything else the government does, right?” Pope asked.

  “Right! Spoils in the way of jobs, budgets, building projects. Virtually everything.”

  “It’s clear any special interest group could be behind the threat Lincoln heard. We are looking for a needle in a haystack, aren’t we?” he asked.

  “I am afraid so. There will always be people against a president. Crazy and legitimate people both. Your moves to protect the President’s House and guard the president when he is out and about may be all we can do. Even if we miss the conspirators on the train, but save him from another one, we will have accomplished a lot, John.”

  The following morning, Pope had the same conversation with the secretary of war.

  “You are not giving up are you, John?” Lincoln asked.

  “Not in the least, sir. This is not a conversation full of excuses. It’s a statement of how very many reasons groups, even obscure ones, could have a gripe against the president. Sarah and I think protecting him from both organized conspiracies and single crazies is the first order of business. While he is being protected as reasonably possible, we will continue to chase down potential threat sources.”