Whispers Along the Rails

by Judith Miller

  Olivia glanced toward the hallway. If he didn’t lower his voice, the guests seated in the dining room would soon be atwitter. ‘‘I haven’t aligned myself with him. I don’t understand how you can make such statements. You’ve just condemned Mr. Clayborn for writing inaccuracies, yet you’re falsely accusing me without validating the facts.’’

  ‘‘Any fool can see that the men who were fired are the employees listed in your reports.’’

  His lips continued to move, but Olivia didn’t hear another word. Mr. Howard didn’t realize that he’d unthinkingly admitted exactly what Mr. Clayborn had understood all along. They were using her as a spotter. Her position riding the rails had nothing to do with detecting cost-saving methods or the betterment of services offered the passengers. She’d been duped into doing exactly what they had hoped, acting as a spotter who would go undetected by the railcar employees. Mr. Clayborn had told her of occasions when spotters had been physically harmed after being identified. If Mr. Howard truly cared for her, why would he permit her to be placed in such a precarious situation? And now he was accusing her of giving Mr. Clayborn information to print in the newspaper. He continued waving his finger under her nose like an angry parent. How dare he act so self-righteous!

  She squared her shoulders and met his heated stare. ‘‘Just one moment. I have something to say before you continue with this tirade.’’

  His mouth gaped open. She was pleased her unexpected interruption had surprised him.

  ‘‘You have just admitted that you intentionally misrepresented my position riding the rails. You told me my position was to assess the services offered in order to save money and find ways to better serve the passengers. In truth, I was working as a spotter, wasn’t I? While I thought I was actually assessing methods to offer a higher level of services, you were using my reports and turning them against the employees—discharging men based solely upon my notes.’’

  ‘‘Well, I trust you didn’t place any half-truths in your reports. And if those men had been satisfactorily performing their duties, they would still be employed.’’

  His pompous reply merely fueled Olivia’s anger. ‘‘So you do admit you misrepresented my position!’’

  ‘‘Mr. Pullman has implemented several of your suggestions. We’ll need additional time to analyze whether your ideas will improve services or save money for the company.’’

  ‘‘Oh yes. We wouldn’t want Mr. Pullman or his stockholders to suffer any losses.’’

  ‘‘Your disdainful tone isn’t becoming, Miss Mott. I’ll confess that your position was somewhat misrepresented. But other than using spotters, we’ve found no other method effective against employee abuses. The porters have learned to identify the male spotters we send out. We knew none of them would be suspicious of a woman.’’

  His unemotional response fueled her outrage. ‘‘Perhaps if you paid the workers a decent wage, they wouldn’t be forced to resort to such tactics in order to support their families.’’

  He shook his head. ‘‘There are no excuses for stealing.’’

  ‘‘Or lying?’’ She folded her hands and rested them in her lap. She could play his game.

  Mr. Howard shifted in his chair. ‘‘There is a difference between a slight misrepresentation and an actual lie.’’

  ‘‘I disagree. If you are going to brand the dining car attendants as thieves for giving leftover food to their hungry relatives, then you are guilty of more than a simple misrepresentation. Even now you continue to accuse me of slandering the company by furnishing information to Mr. Clayborn. Another misrepresentation?’’

  Mr. Howard leaned forward and rested his arms across his thighs. ‘‘If you didn’t, who did?’’

  ‘‘Have you considered the workers who were fired? I would guess they’d be pleased to have their story told. Who has listened to their complaints? Certainly not Mr. Pullman.’’ She tapped her finger on the newspaper. ‘‘This article certainly captured his attention—and very likely the interest of his stockholders, too.’’

  ‘‘No doubt. And that is exactly why we are investigating this matter. We want to determine the truth. I find it difficult to believe that all of the men referred to in this article traveled to Chicago in order to speak with Matthew Clayborn.’’

  Olivia didn’t believe Mr. Howard was seeking the truth. It seemed he’d already determined she was the guilty party. She’d been accused and convicted before ever speaking a word. He didn’t want to believe she hadn’t participated in the news article. Strange. She’d not heard him deny the truth of the article, only his concerns about how Mr. Clayborn had obtained the information.

  ‘‘I can’t speak for those former employees or for Matthew Clayborn, but I do know that he travels extensively and has grown familiar with many of the porters and dining car attendants. I know this because I traveled on the same train with him on my initial solo journey to New York. He observed many of the same incidents that I noted in my first report to the company.’’ She drew in a ragged breath and gathered her courage. ‘‘Although many told me I was foolish, I continued to believe the company cared about its employees. Your betrayal saddens me, for you’ve proven otherwise.’’

  He frowned. ‘‘I don’t know what has come over you, Olivia.’’

  Was it anger or disgust she detected in his brooding stare? She couldn’t be certain. But there was little doubt she had crossed the line.

  ‘‘I’m not certain who or what you’ve been listening to, but I have several ideas. Be that as it may, I’m beginning to think you no longer value your employment here in Pullman.’’ He edged a bit closer.

  ‘‘Are you threatening to discharge me?’’ She had hoped to sound defiant. Instead, her voice cracked, and the question fell flat.

  ‘‘Whether you remain employed will depend upon you and your future choices.’’ He stood and took a step toward the door. ‘‘I will expect a full report setting forth anyone you have talked to who might be involved in this attempt to malign Mr. Pullman.’’

  His sanctimonious attitude proved more than she could bear. ‘‘I wonder what Mr. Pullman would think of your recent employment tactics?’’ She clenched her fists in an effort to maintain her courage. ‘‘Do you believe he would approve of the money you’re taking in exchange for certain job assignments?’’

  Mr. Howard stepped away from the door. His complexion seemed to pale, but she couldn’t be certain in the dim light of the chef ’s office. ‘‘It would appear that you are now jumping to conclusions, Olivia. Do you have proof of these accusations, or is this another unsubstantiated story that will carry Matthew Clayborn’s byline in the newspaper?’’ He dropped to the chair beside her.

  Olivia ignored the reference to Mr. Clayborn. ‘‘How I discovered your deceptive practices is immaterial. The significant question is: What now, Mr. Howard? You’ve misled all who know you—workers, friends, Mr. Pullman. I suppose the only one you’ve failed to deceive is God. It’s difficult admitting our failings to others, but realizing God’s disappointment is so much greater, don’t you think?’’

  Mr. Howard turned away. A suffocating silence pervaded the office, but she knew this conversation was far from over. She waited, expecting she would soon see his eyes glisten with remorse and hear an admission of inexcusable wrongdoing. He would feel the same frightened desperation she’d experienced when confronted with her own deception almost a year ago. He would likely plead for forgiveness. The wait seemed interminable.

  When he finally swiveled around and met her gaze, his eyes shone with a cold, hard anger that startled her. Could he see her tremble? Instinctively, she looked at her hands. Outwardly they weren’t shaking, but white-hot tremors coursed through every inch of her being.

  She detected the familiar tic in his jaw. ‘‘You can’t prove your allegations, Olivia. If it is your intent to reveal your accusations to Mr. Pullman—he’s upstairs—feel free to air your supposed findings to him. I would remind you, however, that I have been a valued em
ployee for many years. Mr. Pullman has never questioned my loyalty to him or to this company. On the other hand, you are an employee known for your deception and lies. After all, you came into our employ under false pretenses. If required to defend myself against you, I will point out your past offenses.’’

  He turned his hands palm-side up and gently lifted his arms up and down as though attempting to balance a scale. He didn’t need to say any more. He’d made his point. This man was a total contradiction, and his behavior frightened her.

  As if reading her thoughts, he patted her hand. ‘‘I’m the same Samuel you’ve always known, Olivia. By most standards, I’ve lived a moral and decent life. But circumstances do change. Even you must admit that occasionally a situation occurs that will force one to do things that are totally out of character. That’s what happened to you, wasn’t it?’’

  He was turning the tables, and Olivia’s level of discomfort continued to rise. ‘‘Yes, but when challenged with my misdeeds, I asked forgiveness and have attempted to refrain from lies and deceit.’’

  ‘‘Have you? Or have you merely exchanged one behavior for another?’’

  She arched her brows, stunned by the question. ‘‘What do you mean?’’

  ‘‘You say you’ve given up your lies, but when confronted with this newspaper article, you immediately attempt to slander me and ruin my career.’’

  Her mouth dropped open. There was no doubt he was on the attack, but how could she do battle with such a skilled tactician. Should she even try? ‘‘I do believe I could prove the validity of the accusations I’ve made. It is not my intent to slander or ruin your career, Mr. Howard. Instead, I had hoped you would see the error of your ways and remedy the situation.’’

  He leaned back in his chair and extended his right leg full length. His smile appeared less than genuine. ‘‘You are, I believe, an altruistic young lady, Olivia. Because of that, I’m willing to extend an olive branch. I’ll pursue the possibility of a reinstatement of the porters and dining car attendants who were discharged. No promises, of course.’’

  ‘‘I’m certain the men would be grateful.’’

  His forced smile disappeared into a frown. ‘‘What are you willing to offer in return, Olivia? This is a peace negotiation, is it not?’’

  ‘‘I have nothing to offer you, Mr. Howard.’’

  He snorted. ‘‘Of course you do. When the porters are reinstated, you can assure me that Matthew Clayborn will print an article that tells the entire incident was no more than a misunderstanding between employees and their employer. He can report that once Mr. Pullman became aware of the error, he immediately reinstated the workers.’’

  ‘‘But that’s not true. Besides, I don’t think Mr. Clayborn would ever agree to such a tactic.’’

  ‘‘How do you know unless you ask? Let him weigh his own decision. He does say that he wants these men to have meaningful work so they can support their families, doesn’t he?’’ Mr. Howard didn’t wait for her response. ‘‘I’m giving him the opportunity to help them. You should let him decide.’’

  Olivia hesitated for a moment and then shook her head. ‘‘No, I don’t believe Mr. Clayborn would do such a thing. It’s not in his character.’’

  He laughed. ‘‘But you’re not always the best judge of character, are you?’’

  ‘‘I suppose not, but . . .’’

  He tented his fingers beneath his chin. ‘‘It appears we have a number of issues before us, Olivia. While you have unfounded allegations about my hiring practices, I have years of loyal service on my side. Should I discharge you, and you speak to Mr. Pullman—if he would even deign to see you—he would consider your allegations no more than that of a disgruntled employee wishing to malign the supervisor who terminated her employment. Given the content of the article in today’s paper, I don’t think he would consider your discharge surprising.’’

  Olivia inhaled a ragged breath and feared where all of this would end. ‘‘If you decide to terminate me, there is nothing I can do. Except—’’

  ‘‘Except what, Miss Mott?’’

  She took a moment to muster her courage. ‘‘I do recall that a Mr. Townsend is familiar with your hiring practices.’’

  Mr. Howard lurched forward. ‘‘Have you been eavesdropping, Olivia?’’

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. ‘‘I don’t intend to divulge how I happen to know of Mr. Townsend or how much more I know.’’

  Her statement contained more bravado than anything else, but it had been enough to capture Mr. Howard’s attention. She could see the concern in his eyes as he contemplated her words.

  ‘‘So you know Frank Townsend, do you?’’

  Mr. Howard was toying with her. ‘‘You mean Geoffrey Townsend?’’

  He momentarily wilted but quickly regained his composure. ‘‘Sometimes it’s wiser if you know less rather than more, Olivia.’’

  Once again he was on the offensive. She tightened her hands into two fists and awaited the attack.

  ‘‘We are going to have to come to some resolution very soon. I suppose the easiest way would be for me to remind you of several more people you may want to consider. I know you are quite fond of Fred DeVault and his mother.’’ His lips curved in a condescending smile. ‘‘She is a sweet lady, isn’t she?’’

  Olivia stiffened. ‘‘They have nothing to do with any of this.’’

  ‘‘We won’t argue that point. However, I know you would be burdened with guilt if Mr. DeVault happened to be discharged and his poor mother had to leave her home. I seem to recall that you told me how much she enjoyed living in Pullman. Wasn’t it Mrs. DeVault who feared ever having to move from our fair city?’’

  She inwardly seethed. Why had she ever told him anything about Mrs. DeVault? Did he plan to dredge up every word Olivia had ever spoken and use it against her?

  ‘‘How could you entertain such a thought? Fred is a good employee. And his mother doesn’t deserve your retribution. They have done nothing to you or this company. They live here quietly and abide by the rules.’’

  ‘‘Do they? You may be speaking the truth where Mrs. De-Vault is concerned, but that isn’t true of her son. He’s a troublemaker. He thinks I know nothing of his rebellious activities, but there are people who tell me most anything that goes on in this town—even in Kensington, Miss Mott.’’

  ‘‘Kensington?’’ She stared at him dumbfounded. ‘‘The training center? You call helping men learn a trade a form of rebellious activity?’’

  ‘‘I’m certain you know there’s more than teaching that takes place inside that building. And if you don’t, I suggest you ask Mr. DeVault. I’d wager he’ll know exactly what I’m talking about. His activities are suspect.’’ He tapped his index finger to his temple. ‘‘Think union, Olivia. He needs to cease such activities.’’

  Her heart beat at an alarming pace. Had someone reported that Fred was conducting meetings at the training center?

  Mr. Howard swiveled around and vacantly stared at the ceiling. An uneasy silence stretched between them like a yawning abyss.

  She uttered a silent prayer. If only she knew what to do. Just when she thought she could no longer withstand the overpowering confines of the room, Mr. Howard faced her.

  ‘‘It seems we have reached an impasse, my dear Olivia.’’

  She wanted to scream that she wasn’t his ‘‘dear,’’ but she silently stared at him with her hands folded in her lap.

  ‘‘We both possess knowledge that, if used, could create tragic circumstances for the other. Would you agree?’’

  She nodded.

  ‘‘In addition, I would suggest that my power to create such misfortune and heartbreak far outweighs your own. While you are controlled by a loving concern for others, I am not belabored by such sympathies. We must decide what we will do, Olivia. I propose we leave this room with an agreement that what has been said within the confines of this office remains between us. Your position with the company will be se
cure so long as your lips are sealed.’’

  ‘‘And Fred?’’

  He shrugged. ‘‘So long as he gives up his foolish activity.’’

  ‘‘I truly need time to pray and ask God’s guidance before giving my word. May I have until tomorrow?’’ She looked up at him.

  ‘‘I don’t think your prayers will help. But if you give me your word that none of this conversation will be repeated to anyone until I have your decision, you may have until tomorrow.’’

  ‘‘I promise,’’ she said. ‘‘And I’ll pray for you, too, Samuel.’’

  ‘‘You need not bother. I’ve passed beyond a point where prayers will help me.’’ His eyes clouded.

  An inexplicable wave of sadness washed over her—a deep sorrow for the man that Samuel Howard had become. If only she could shed a ray of light into the darkness that surrounded him. She reached across the short distance between them and touched his hand. ‘‘The Bible says that whoever commits sin is the servant of sin. But it also says: ‘Ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.’ ’’ She stood and walked across the room. With her hand on the doorknob, Olivia turned to him. ‘‘We never reach a point where God won’t forgive us, Samuel. He’ll forgive you and redirect your path, if only you’ll ask.’’

  Chef René’s Blanquette de Veau

  1 leek

  2 carrots

  1 onion

  1 clove

  1 butter

  1½ Tbsp. oil

  2½ lbs. veal cut into pieces

  flour

  1 bouquet garni

  2 egg yolks

  ¾ cup sour cream

  Juice from ½ lemon

  Salt and pepper

  Peel the leek and cut into thin slices. Peel carrots and cut them into rounds. Peel onion and push clove into it. Heat butter and oil in a large pot. Place on low heat and cook veal slowly without allowing it to brown. Add salt and pepper to taste. Sprinkle meat with flour. Mix well and cook 2 minutes. Add just enough hot water to cover the meat. Add carrots, leeks, onion (with clove), and the bouquet garni. Cover and let simmer for 1 hour and 15 minutes. Remove the meat and put on a plate (cover to keep warm). Strain cooking liquid from vegetables and put the liquid back on the stove. Cook several minutes over high heat to reduce the liquid. Reduce heat to low. In a bowl mix egg yolks and sour cream. Add the lemon juice, salt, and pepper. Pour the mix into the cooking liquid, stirring constantly with a whisk. Do not let mixture boil. Pour the sauce over the meat. Stir and serve. The classic accompaniment to blanquette de veau is white rice or steamed potatoes. You may also add the vegetables you strained from the liquid back into the mixture before serving.