Shooting For Justice

by G. Wayne Tilman

  They agreed Pope should visit Conkling in New York and Brewster would send him a telegram setting up the meeting at his office. Both secretaries warned Pope Conkling would be tough and cagey. He was a lawyer, politician, probable gangster, and trained boxer. None of those characteristics bothered Pope in the least. He was confident he had taken on and defeated better street and gun fighters in the past. And, at just under thirty, he knew he had not even reached his prime yet.

  “I will have someone in my office call you at home as soon as I receive a response from Conkling by telegraph. He may play hard to get and ignore us until he gets a second request. If he wants to play it hard, I will subpoena his ass,” Brewster said. Tough talk from a man Pope did not consider very tough. After all, it was Pope, not Brewster who was going to invade Conkling’s territory and interview him.

  5

  Pope and Sarah discussed the case during dinner.

  “While you are in New York talking to Conkling, I will study dissident groups. The ones causing the most stir in my initial look today is the Socialist and Communist Movements. While they are technically two different philosophies, it is practical to lump them together. My cursory study suggests socialism has, as one of the more famous proponents, an economist named Karl Marx. He just died a few months back. These current groups were preceded by the Utopian groups of socialist communities, such as the Shakers. I have found the key terms to look for and should have a good picture of who they are and what they believe by the time you return,” Sarah said.

  “Depending on Conkling, I believe dissidents will be our next inquiry,” Pope said.

  “I heard from the chief detective by coded telegram the other day,” Sarah said. “It was kind of addressed to us both.”

  “This is the first time since we were sent back East. What did Hume have to say?”

  “He asked how married life was treating us. Wondered about our progress and when we thought we’d be back with Wells Fargo. He ended by wishing us the best,” Sarah said.

  “All good things. I take it he thinks we really did get hitched. Since his final salvo before we left was about getting married was still up to us, he is acting now like he thinks we did get married. I still wonder what effect marriage will have on our careers as Wells Fargo detectives. You did a great job as an interim office manager. I could not do it. I’d go crazy. Would you do it?” Pope asked.

  “I have loved the life here, even though May has done most of the cooking and all of the housework. So, yes, I could be an office manager for Wells Fargo. As long as you were the regional detective and it was in a decent town like Cheyenne or Prescott,” Sarah said.

  “Then, let’s go ahead and get married. I’d like to do it in a way so Grandpa can come,” Pope said.

  “Of course. I really don’t have any folks to come anymore. Maybe the Kanes. I really liked them.”

  “I agree. We will do it on our and their time, not Wells Fargo’s schedule,” Pope said.

  Pope was on the early train to New York, having received a message the preparatory telegram had been sent to Roscoe Conkling.

  He took a hansom cab from the train depot to Conkling’s office. His opinion was the office looked more like a gangster’s office than a man who had served in the Congress and approved by the Senate to be a US Supreme Court Justice.

  The feeling was supported by the secretary who showed him in. The man looked more like a knee breaker from the Bronx than an office worker.

  “So, Mr. Pope, I received the telegram from the attorney general asking me to assist in an investigation of the greatest importance,” Conkling said in the gravelly voice of a man who was used to giving orders. And, having them followed to the letter.”

  “It is, Mr. Conkling. I would appreciate any guidance you can give us,” Pope said.

  “My first thought is I must be the suspect in this inquiry and ‘help’ is just a word to deflect my attention.”

  “I can see why you might think so. I have been told I can be totally frank with you. It involves a threat against President Arthur. The threat is personal or to bring down his presidency. Since the two of you are old friends, it seems unlikely you would be part of this. It is more likely you would want to ally with us to protect him,” Pope said.

  “Quite. Where and how was this threat manifested?”

  “A member of the cabinet heard two men arguing through the partition separating two roomettes on a train from New York City to Scarsdale.”

  “What were they saying?” Conkling asked.

  “The member did not hear the conversation until they started arguing. This occurred just as the train was pulling into Scarsdale. By the time he gathered wits enough to look at them, they were gone. The conversation was about bringing down the administration, killing Arthur if necessary.”

  “Are you sure it was not a couple of blowhards mouthing off?” Conkling asked.

  “No, I am not. The secretary thought they were pretty serious. He said nobody but well-dressed men in suits were on the train. He immediately reached out to the attorney general.”

  “Who exactly are you? A treasury agent?”

  “No. I am a Wells Fargo detective on loan to Justice. I have been named provost marshal and deputy US marshal for the duration of my investigation.” Pope knew in his gut Conkling was already aware of this.

  “What do I call you?”

  “Pope is fine, sir.”

  “Am I a suspect or not?”

  “Should you be?”

  “Don’t pull any cop horse manure on me, son. Just answer the question!”

  “No. At this point I am looking into political dissident groups. Since both parties to the conversation got off the train in Scarsdale, I thought you might have some ideas,” Pope said.

  “Pope, there is a Marxist group in Scarsdale. I chased them out of New York City because they were infiltrating my unions there,” Conkling said. Pope picked up on the possessive used to describe New York unions, apparently of all types.

  “How widespread are these Marxists in unions?”

  “Too damn widespread! They believe the government ought to control everything. You work hard, a chunk of your pay goes to somebody who didn’t work hard. Or, maybe, didn’t work at all. It makes no sense.”

  “This one in Scarsdale,” Pope began, “Do you think I could infiltrate it?”

  “Not a chance. You scream cowboy gunfighter or copper.”

  “You’re pretty perceptive. I have been both.”

  “I possibly already knew you were.”

  Pope smiled.

  “Could a woman infiltrate the group in Scarsdale?”

  “I don’t know. I have a man who is in the know up there. Let me reach out to him. How can I get in touch with you?” Conkling asked.

  Pope gave him a business card with his Navy office contact information.

  “Pope? How’s my friend Chet Arthur?” Conkling asked.

  “I hardened the protection on both him and the President’s House. He seemed to appreciate it. He’s unaware of the threat situation. We’d like to keep him in the dark about it for now. I have only met him once. He seemed alright. I think he liked my wife better than me.”

  “Haha! Sounds like my boy alright! Try not to shoot him yourself! I should take the rail down to Washington and have dinner with him. We need to mend bridges. He thinks I am mad because he appointed somebody else secretary of state. I was for a about a day. Then, I figured out how much money being out of this city would cost me. Hell, I am the worst at diplomacy. I’d tell the foreign kings and all to take a long walk on a short bridge.”

  “Then, it sounds like you were what we needed as secretary of state,” Pope said, meaning every word.

  “I have another meeting. Give me a day. I will check out the crazies in Scarsdale and let you know what I find,” Conkling promised.

  Pope left. He headed for the train depot and found a southbound was coming through in a half hour. He bought a ticket and knew he would be home tonight.
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  The next day, Pope met with Lincoln and Brewster.

  “I went into this interview thinking Conkling was a gangster, crooked politician and enemy of President Arthur. I came out thinking he is a gangster, probably a crooked politician, friend of the president’s, cunning, smart and a man who told me the truth.”

  “John, a lot of people fear Roscoe Conkling. He fosters such an image. He is a power broker in New York. I cannot imagine how he could wield such influence without dipping into the wrong side of the law occasionally. However, I have never known him to be a liar. He feels he’s so untouchable there’s no reason to lie.

  “I am sure he will report back to you about the communists or whatever they are. And, will come down and have dinner with the president who he mentored as a politician in New York,” Lincoln said.

  “So, you all agree I should strike him from the suspect list?” Pope asked.

  “At this point, yes. So, we have the Chinese issue with the railroads, the wood versus steel hulls, expansion and immigration all stricken. Since we are not too worried about the South rising again through the action of Southerners in Congress, the dissident groups and odd crazies are all we have left,” Brewster summarized.

  “Once I get some indication about infiltrating the Marxist group in Scarsdale, I will formulate a plan. I do not believe in coincidences in an investigation. Robert hearing the argument between two men who got off the train in Scarsdale, and Conkling identifying a worrisome group in Scarsdale firm up the possibility to me,” Pope said.

  He left, checked in at the President’s House security office and went home mid-afternoon. Sarah was still off conducting research on the Marxists and other groups.

  When she returned, she filled him in on her findings and he told her Conkling had been candid and an all-around surprise. He said Conkling told him he would not be a good choice for insertion into the group undercover, but Conkling would find out if there were any women in the group.

  True to his word, Conkling sent a somewhat vague, but useful telegram two days later. He said the group (he did not mention what group) had some women. All had Eastern European last names. People with a knowledge and interest of the subject were apparently welcome.

  Sarah worked for two more days developing a cover with name, fictitious but non-verifiable family, country of origin and work experience.

  She decided on Vera Petrov, a second generation Ukrainian whose late grandfather immigrated and became a coal miner in Pennsylvania. Vera did not know much about his past, nor did she speak Slavic. The grandfather would not talk about the old country, except the system was horrible and people slaved and were killed by it. She grew up thinking there was a better way for governments to treat their people, drawing her to socialism and communism. She always wanted to live in a Utopian community but could not afford to move to one.

  Sarah bought plain work dresses at a department store in Washington and heavy work shoes. She bought a used satchel and cheap personal items, like hairbrushes and night gowns. May colluded by washing each several times to help age them.

  After looking at some photos in books, she decided to put her long black hair in the most conservative, tight bun possible. She would carry her smaller .38 in a small purse with a few dollars. Her backup choice was a paring knife. Luckily in mid-summer, she would not need a coat.

  Sara, as Vera, met Pope at the door, a smiling May behind her waiting for his reaction. He expressed his only doubt was her beauty was hard to hide, but he agreed the cover was otherwise perfect.

  The next morning, Pope packed a small carpetbag and put on his workingman guise from his trip South. They headed to the depot and bought seats for Scarsdale.

  Once they arrived, a cheap hotel was quickly located. While the area was generally upscale, there was a blue-collar area on the edge of town where workers, shop clerks and unemployed lived.

  Logically, it was also where they found flyers posted for meetings of the New York Workers Association, the name Conkling told him the Marxist group used. A meeting was advertised in a hall two nights later.

  Sarah and Pope used the time to familiarize themselves with the town. Sarah, in keeping with her cover, bought some basic cleaning items. They also purchased a new sheet, not wanting to sleep on the questionable one on the bed.

  They stuck to their cover roles, living and eating as transient, out of work people might.

  Two days later, the two detectives walked over to the meeting hall. There was a saloon across the street. Pope ducked in and ordered the first of what would be two draft beers.

  Sarah went in and stood in the rear of the hall, acting hesitant.

  A man in the front motioned her to the first row of wooden chairs. As Pope feared, her beauty would make her stand out, even in disguise. It also made men want to talk with her and worked in her favor. She did not have to volunteer any of her backstory. The man seemed more interested in keeping her speaking with him than anything else.

  Finally, he called the meeting to order. He was clearly the head of the organization.

  “Welcome to new comrades in our fight against oppression! I see some new faces,” he said looking at Sara specifically, “and welcome you all. I am Roger Nelson, the president of the chapter.

  “First, I would like to report on our successes since the last meeting. We have continued to convert union members in all trades in New York to the Marxist enlightenment. These new Marxists are also voters, you know. We will be heard, no matter how long it takes.

  “This chapter is leading the way in a project of national implication. I cannot talk about it further. But trust me. You will read about our success in the newspapers within a week!” Nelson said.

  With this, Sarah knew more than ever, she needed to probe Nelson and get his total confidence.

  Nelson spoke vehemently for another hour. Several times, he received applause. Sarah always clapped louder and was first to stand when he made a point, she read to be crucial to him.

  After the meeting, working people left. Dawn was only six hours away. Several lingered, including Vera Petrov. Nelson seemed to be ushering the others off.

  Finally, the two were alone. He made a halfway pretense of rearranging chairs and turning off unnecessary gas lamps.

  “Mrs. Petrov, or should I say Miss Petrov,” he began.

  She interrupted with “It’s Mrs., but you can call me Vera. I am just a cleaner. Nobody of importance.”

  “Vera it is then. Is your husband here with you?”

  “Yes, Mr. Nelson. He works as a handyman where he can get jobs. I am looking for a cleaning job. We were in Virginia but could not find employment. He let me come here tonight. He does not care for political things. I do because of what I think my grandparents suffered under in the Ukraine. I think changes need to be made.

  “If it was up to me, I’d blow up those politicians!” she said.

  “Well, when we get to know one another better, I may tell you something which will excite you. A lot!” Nelson said. “And it is Roger to you, Vera.”

  “Good. I like to be excited. Tell me about you. How did you come to lead such an important group as this?” she probed.

  “I lived at John Noyes’ Oneida Community for a while. It was a Utopian socialist village. We studied communism and complex marriage, among other things. Oneida is where I became convinced communism is the true path.”

  “What is complex marriage?” Sarah asked, truly having no idea.

  “It is a form of polygamy. It may be illegal in many places, but we believe mankind is not monogamist. Other cultures thrive with widespread polygamy.”

  “I see,” Sarah said.

  “Does the idea appeal to you?” he asked.

  “I need to think about it. A tumble in the hay every now and then certainly does,” she lied.

  He smiled broadly.

  “I live alone. Perhaps you can visit soon?” he said.

  “Tomorrow night is Monday,” she said as if thinking.

  “My
husband has a job. Perhaps then? You could tell me more about your special project. I take it you will have to go out of town for it?” Sarah asked.

  “I am available tomorrow night. When might you be able to come?”

  “Oh, say eight o’clock to be safe?” she asked, knowing the smile signaled success for an entrapment.

  He wrote the address on the back of a flyer and handed it to her.

  “And yes. I will have to go south for a day or so next Wednesday. The event will happen Thursday. But, with all luck, I can be back Friday night,” Nelson said.

  Sarah caressed his cheek and gave him a kiss on it, backing away before he could reciprocate.

  “I am so very glad I came tonight. I really believe in your objectives, too,” she said leaving him to pick whether she meant his personal or group objectives. She suspected he would think she meant both.

  “Gotta go! I will see you at your house around eight tomorrow night. What should I wear? I’m afraid my monetary situation does not allow a large wardrobe.”

  “Clothes may be a temporary issue, my dear,” he said. She smiled seductively, thinking what a self-absorbed little man, to herself.

  Sarah breezed out the door before anything further might occur.

  Pope was watching for her from the saloon. He waited for her to pass, then fell in step fifty yards behind her.

  She turned the corner. Seeing nobody was behind her, he hastened. As he approached her, he saw she had the .38 Smith & Wesson break open revolver in her hand, hidden by the other hand.

  She recognized the tall handsome figure and slipped the gun back into her purse.

  “Success?”

  “Oh, yes! The event will happen at an undisclosed location south of here on Thursday. We need to find out the president’s plan for Thursday. Like right now!”

  They went straight to the Western Union office at the train depot and sent an urgent telegram to Lincoln in care of the War office. Pope knew it would be delivered directly to him at home as soon as it was received.

  He wished the War office had a cypher system like Wells Fargo had. If it did, he was unaware of it or its codes. In plain language he said they had new information about an event happening Thursday south of his current location. He asked what the “Chet’s” itinerary was on Thursday. He said he would check back at the telegraph for the reply upon opening tomorrow morning. He also said he hoped to have more information tomorrow night.