Jess galloped between the two men and ran into the room. He scooped up a handful of coins and threw them into the air. The clack and tinkle of metal on metal reverberated through the little room. The excitement was so palatable that Grant felt as if the whole of Bethel must now know they’d found the gold. The entire village would wait for them at the top of the stairs, wanting their share.
Jess stuck his hand deep in one of the saddlebags and left it there. The boy seemed fascinated by the sheer volume of coins in front of him. How like his namesake, Grant thought.
Grant picked up a saddlebag and was amazed at the weight. How could those broken men have managed to take all this gold with them? Grant wondered how much they’d left. Was the rest of the treasury still in Georgia or had some other lucky soul found the rest of it? No telling where the entire Confederate treasury had got off to. Some had been paid out to the unfortunate troops left guarding the last of the Confederates. No one would guard gold without wanting some for themselves. How much had the Confederate Cabinet absconded with? Rumors abounded regarding Butler’s lifestyle out of the country. Who knew what else was tucked away, hidden in banks and overseas accounts. Grant felt sure that someday the rest of it would be recovered.
Newman took a step towards him. “What are you doing with all that, Sam? You can’t just walk out of here with it. The whole town will see you.”
Grant shook his head. “This doesn’t belong to you. It’s already killed two men in this town and who knows who would be next. I can’t have that on my head.” Crosson would be back in town shortly and Grant would try his best to keep the men’s names out of the story he’d weave for the sheriff.
Newman looked down at the saddlebag. “That’s Halley’s bag you’re holding. Don’t suppose I could just keep my bag. After all, it does belong to me.”
Grant looked up from the bag and saw Julia descending the stairs. He was puzzled for a moment, trying to figure out why she would enter the cellar. This was not the type of place she cared to visit, especially when it didn’t involve a chore. She was more the fresh air and sunshine type of woman. Her horsemanship was nearly equal to his.
She touched her feet to the dirt floor and scurried over to Grant. He put an arm around her, feeling her shiver. He couldn’t figure out what had brought this reaction out in her until he looked up again.
Harriet Brown stood in the doorway to the cellar, carrying a shotgun. “Took you folk long enough to find it. I’d begun to give up hope of getting any more money.”
Newman took a step towards her. She cocked the gun and leveled it at the man. “I wouldn’t be doing that, Zeke. I can use this thing if I have to.”
Grant tried to combine this perception of the woman with the tatting housewife he’d met a few days ago. Is this what gold fever did to a person? Make an ordinary person into a killer? He could see Julia slay someone to save her family or herself, but never for money. Maybe because she’d grown up with it. She’d always taken wealth as a given, but worked without complaints when it wasn’t there. In their lean years, she’d kept house and made do with what they had. She was not the type to seek out money at all costs.
Mrs. Brown took a step towards them and motioned with her gun for the group to head towards the back room of the cellar. Grant knew that she would have to kill them in order to make off with the money. She couldn’t hold them hostage and take all the gold without being suspected of something. The people in the cellar would have to die in order for the treasure to be safe with her. No one else in Bethel could know or else the government and every greedy soul in town would want it. Grant didn’t know how she would be able to explain the cash to Micah, but maybe he was too far gone to care. Was he content not knowing or was he complicit in this killing spree?
She backed them up a few more paces. Julia shielded Jess behind her skirts, one of the few times when he didn’t protest his mother’s protective nature. Newman and Grant stood in front of Julia, making a pyramid of sorts. Grant would have dove for her would he not have jeopardized the life of his dear wife. Living without her would not be worth a red cent, much less a gold coin.
“You mean to kill us, Harriet?” Newman was fairly adept at moving backwards on his sticks. He retreated further into the cellar with the rest of them. His one stick hit the doorway on the way back, and nearly flew out from under his arm. He gripped it more tightly and adjusted himself. Grant could see white knuckles bear down on the wood.
“Not if I don’t have to,” she said as she waved the gun at the group again. She managed to lean down and retrieve the first saddlebag on the floor without her gun moving. She pitched it over her shoulder with an effort. The rifle seemed to sag a bit under the weight of the gold.
“But you killed all those other people?” Grant looked for a weapon to subdue the woman, but nothing seemed close at hand. Enough money to buy bodyguards and metal covered carriages, but none of it did any good to them now. “Why?”
Mrs. Brown shook her head as much as she could attached to the bags of gold. “I didn’t kill nobody. What are you talking about?”
“You killed those men for the gold and now you mean to kill us.” Grant wanted to keep her talking, giving them a few minutes of time. If he could figure out a way to save Julia and Jess, he’d do it, even if it meant the loss of his own life. He’d been in worse scrapes before, but not when his family was in peril.
Mrs. Brown motioned at Grant with the barrel of the rifle. “Pick up that bag and hand it to me.” She motioned to the bag that rested to Grant’s left.
Newman started to take a step towards her. “I thought you said that you were only going to take your share. That’s not yours.”
Mrs. Brown’s face turned up in a twisted grin. “There’s only two of you left now. That means Micah gets half. He might be daft now, but I ain’t.” She pointed to the bags again.
Newman stepped forward again. “But he only gets a full share when there’s only one person left. There are still two. So no one gets it yet.”
She pointed the gun directly at Newman. “Don’t take another step, Zeke. I’m a-warning you. Don’t make me use this.” She turned her head to face Grant. “Now pick that bag up and hand it to me real slow like.”
Grant slid his hand under the soft leather of the bag, and started to heft it. He was surprised at the weight, and set it back down to adjust his grip. He was trying to just use one hand, but he gave up and twisted around so that he could use both hands. He felt the bag rise easily using both arms, but he made a grunting sound like he was having trouble. He hoped Mrs. Brown believed his performance. He wasn’t the best of actors. She staggered under the weight of her bag; perhaps she would believe that the others weighed even more. He wasn’t sure how she could lug out all of the bootie without multiple trips. That left the four people unguarded. It seemed their best chance to escape.
Grant made another attempt to lift the bag. He swung around with all his force, hoping to strike Mrs. Brown and knock her off-balance. Instead, he felt the bag hit Newman square in the good leg. He watched in slow-motion as his plot misfired like a Union issued musket.
Newman started to tumble and grabbed the hem of Grant’s jacket as he fell. He forgot the crutches as he went down, and one stick flew in the air. Newman hit the ground with a thud that seemed to knock the breath out of him. The crutch caught Mrs. Brown on the arm, and the rifle jerked up in the air. She must have pulled the trigger, because a shot went off. The sound shook the tiny cellar and a storm of dirt fell from the ceiling where the bullet had hit. Julia and Jess hid their heads from the pellets, but Mrs. Brown looked up to see where her shot had gone and received a faceful of dirt for her trouble. She sputtered and tried to wipe her eyes. The rifle flailed wildly as she did. Grant snatched the gun by the barrel and yanked. She fell to the ground, landing almost side-by-side with Newman.
She didn’t move as Grant pointed the gun in her direction. She must have hit her head. He could see her still breathing, her chest moving rhythmically. He
handed the gun to Newman, who now sat on the dirt floor. Newman kept his eye on the woman as Grant hefted her over his shoulder. He placed her gently on the floor of the back room, and came out, locking her inside with the same key they’d found at Woerner’s. The three other members of the treasure hunt were all standing and looking at Grant with concern. He guessed he looked a fright with clay and mud mixed in his hair and beard.
Grant wiped some of the dirt from his uniform, and helped Julia and Jess back up the stairs. “Looks like we won’t have to worry about that anymore. I’ll go talk to Father about seeing what the sheriff can do regarding Mrs. Brown.”
Chapter 19
Jesse came into the Newman house and plopped down on the curved-back loveseat. “She still is denying that she had anything to do with the murders. She said she hadn’t been in Woerner’s house for ages, and she hadn’t seen Halley for several days. Micah will back her up on that.”
Grant put a hand to his head. He felt a headache coming on from the stress, and the exertion of carrying all that gold back to the Newman place. They had secured it in a safe in Newman’s upper floor where it would be secure from anyone else with a hankering for gold. Grant hadn’t made contact with anyone in the Treasury Department. He wasn’t sure how to broach the subject without putting these men at risk for prosecution. They’d already done time in Andersonville for their country. He wasn’t sure that he could be responsible for incarcerating them a second time. A one-legged man and a veteran who slipped back into the past wouldn’t fare well in Federal prison. More likely than not, they’d never see freedom again, dying behind bars.
Still he wasn’t sure that he could let them keep the money in good conscious. It didn’t belong to them, and the government could sorely use it to pay for a war they had financed. Death on credit, nothing better. And to make it worse, he couldn’t see giving any of the gold to Micah when his wife sat behind bars for the murders of two men who had protected the Union.
He hadn’t talked to Newman specifically, but he knew they would have to sit down and hash matters out at some point. The two would at least need to come up with a common story for the government. The whole plan would be somewhat risky, as they couldn’t predict how Mrs. Brown would act. It made the planning all that much more difficult. Still Grant had dealt with tougher enemies in the past and won.
Grant looked at his father and tried to remember what he wanted to ask him. Jesse had gone to the mayor’s house. As an ex-village official, he felt that he had some rank in learning what the town planned to do with Mrs. Brown. No one in town was familiar with the procedures of dealing with murderers -- and a woman to boot. Murder cases were rare in Clermont County, and cold-blooded killers were unheard of. Grant remembered the fuss over hanging Mary Surratt, the co-conspirator in the Lincoln assassination. The death of two veterans wouldn’t compare to the leader of the Union. So execution was most likely not an option.
“She’s still denying that she killed anybody. She wanted the money sure enough, but nothing more. She was firm on that.” Jesse removed his glasses and polished each lens with deliberation. “I’m inclined to believe her, Ulysses. She didn’t know anything about how Woerner tripped. You could see it in her face. If she don’t know how he was killed, how could she have done those deeds?”
Grant flashed back to the scene from the day before. “You didn’t see her yesterday. She would have killed us all for that gold. I could see it.”
“That may be, but it doesn’t mean that she killed those other two men. Hell, no telling who might have killed for that money.” Jesse replaced his glasses. Grant could see the thought of money and riches rush through his mind.
“So now you’re suggesting that Newman or Micah Brown killed their friends for a few dollars more? They were friends, for goodness’ sakes. They went through hell together. You saw them at the euchre game. How much money is enough? None of them could have spent all that money in their lifetime. What do they need with more?”
Jesse barked out a laugh. “Don’t you know by now that men will never have enough money? It’s the way of the world.”
Grant sighed. He didn’t understand men and their money. When he wanted something, he went for it and was happy to pay the price. The constant need for more didn’t infect his soul. He could be content with a house that he’d built with his own hands. “So what happens now? What will be done with that woman?”
“The visiting magistrate is in town in two days. They’ll bind her over for trial at that point. They let her go home. Someone needs to take care of Micah, and they don’t have any other family in town.”
Grant took a hard swallow. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. It’s not like she took a gun to Woerner. She used nails and a piece of string. She’s a very resourceful woman. No telling what mischief she could get into.” Grant worried that she would be over here in no time, looking for the gold again. She’d shown that she wasn’t above killing to get her hands on it. His opinion of the local constabulary had diminished significantly over the past few hours. Perhaps he would have been better served to take the matter into his own hands, as he had done so many times in war.
Jesse waved a hand, as if women could not conceivably be killers. Grant knew better. His father still felt he knew more than his son after all these years. Grant was supposed to defer to the man, even when he knew that Jesse had not seen what women were capable of during the war. Women had killed with the same passions as men. Sex didn’t mean that a person stopped caring or wanting or needing. The fairer sex only seemed to get away with more, since the most chivalrous of men couldn’t believe that a woman would slit a throat or shoot in cold blood.
“How is Micah taking all this? Does he understand what’s happening?” Grant knew that the man hadn’t seemed right when they talked. Could he comprehend that his wife had killed his friends for cash? Maybe that kind of knowledge was better off not known.
Jesse shook his head. “Who can tell with him? I can’t make heads or tails of what he says or means. I don’t think he’d know if he got any money or lived in a field. He’s pretty far gone that way.”
Grant nodded. He found it difficult enough to discern the true feelings of a man who spoke in complete sentences. Brown was an enigma to him.
Newman stepped into the room and his gaze bounced back and fro to Grant and his father. He didn’t speak, but sat down slowly in the chair across from the loveseat. He rested his sticks by the chair, the same pair that had so effectively taken out Harriet Brown. “Howdy, Sam. Mr. Grant. I heard they let Harriet Brown go home.”
Grant nodded and turned away from the man. His friend, the man who helped save his family, and he didn’t know what to tell him about the gold. “You know that she won’t be getting a share of the gold. The incident in the cellar should be the end of any claim the Browns have on it.”
Newman looked off in the distance, out the covered windows to Main Street. “I’m sure no one will be. It will be going back to the government.”
Jesse looked at his son, and at their host. “Well, actually, you know Ulysses, no one is certain who the money should go to. I mean you assume that the gold came from the Confederate treasury, but you don’t know that for a fact. It could have been someone’s private store of gold or who knows what. Heck, you can’t even be sure that it’s from the South. Coins are coins. You’ll get no tales from a piece of metal.”
Grant recognized his father’s stubborn streak coming out. The man could debate any subject for hours. It had made him a nuisance at the Georgetown watering holes when he’d spouted his Whig and Know-Nothing views for the world to hear. He’d angered Senator Hamer sufficiently that they didn’t talk for years. Grant had considered the congressman to be fortunate. The two men hadn’t resumed their friendship until Jesses wanted the West Point appointment for his son.
Newman gave the men a small smile. “Well, that’s true. The cargo wasn’t marked to the owner. It could have been anyone’s gold.”
Grant rolled his e
yes. “The Confederate government was leaving town in a hurry. They didn’t know when or if they would be back. Of course, they didn’t stop to mark the cargo.”
“Well, without proper identification, I believe that found items belong to the person who discovers them. Isn’t that the way of the world?” Jesse sat up straight on the loveseat and tugged at his coat. The man made a point to look proper at all times and never failed to mention his son’s sloppy appearance. On the other hand, Grant’s sartorial role model was Zachary Taylor – old Rough and Ready, who had also ridden military victory to the presidency. That man was more interested in winning wars rather than appearances.
Newman shrugged and gave Grant a weak smile. “I believe so.”
Grant looked from one man to the other. He knew when he’d been beat. “Ok, I won’t contact the Treasury, but it will have to be on a few conditions.”
Newman nearly sprang to his foot. His growing smile nearly split his cheeks open. “Thank you, Sam. Thank you so much.”
Jesse merely smiled at his son as he stared down his glasses at him. He didn’t bother to speak.
“First, you can’t have had anything to do with killings. Neither you nor Patsy. If you do, the money goes back to the government immediately.” Grant crossed his arms and let it be known that he meant business. In times of battle, his word was good and he wanted the same to be felt in peacetime.
Newman looked him in the eyes, and said without blinking, “I swear on my life that I had nothing to do with those deaths, Sam. Honest.”
Grant longed to believe the man. He didn’t want the last of his Bethel friends to be a murderer. Still, he wasn’t convinced that Mrs. Brown had done the killings. She’d been honest in everything else, but she continued to deny any involvement in the killings. It shook his conviction in her guilt. Why lie about that at this point? What did it benefit her? “Next, you’ll need to provide something for the widows and for Brown. That kind of money should have some responsibility that goes with it.”
US Grant Mysteries Boxed Set Page 31
