by Ed Gorman
“How did you get the boots, Jeremy?”
“I did nothing to harm any of you. And that, Captain Mackie, is all you need to know.” And then he looked me hard in the eye. Dead on. It was the same look I’d seen on his face once or twice before, when the whole world was blowing up around us. “I couldn’t walk out of here without them, now could I?”
I said nothing. I remembered the nights he slipped away and didn’t come back for hours. I remembered Colonel Thiessen and his talk about courage. Moral courage. The real kind. Right.
There was a small bundle lying on the table. Slater’s fading blue uniform, a few personal trifles. He handed it to me. “If I don’t make it, I’d appreciate getting these back. Otherwise they’re yours. Now, if you’ll wish me Godspeed, I’m going to slither on out of here.”
We shook hands. I told him I was sorry, and I wished him luck. He accepted my friendliness with a small smile, but I don’t think it mattered to him very much. It came three full days too late.
* * *
What he did next we learned in bits and pieces from the guards. He walked calmly into the prison administrative offices next door, paused at the desk of a clerk, and asked if he would be so kind as to tell him where he might find Mr. So-and-so, a minor official who had an office in a building a small way down the street. The clerk politely accompanied him to the door, past the guard who didn’t bother to challenge them, since the guard knew the clerk and the clerk appeared to know the stranger—they were, after all, charting so nicely together.
And finally I understood what he had done, cozying up to the Rebels all those weeks. He hadn’t simply been earning their trust. He’d been learning how to talk and how Libby was run and where everything was located and what names he ought to be dropping as he drawled his way out.… Oh, it was Slither, all right—Slither at his very best.
I told Colonel Thiessen what had happened, quietly, and we covered for him at the next day’s roll calls. The Rebels didn’t miss him till around suppertime, when Major Cluny came looking for his uniform. Somebody thought Slither had gone upstairs. No? Then he must still be in the hospital. Gosh, he hadn’t gone there at all today? Well, then, he must be in the cook room. Or maybe he had the trots, and was holed up in the sinks…? The more we tried to help Cluny, the sicker he began to look. When he left he was rigid, his mouth as thin as a saber’s edge and his face as gray as his Rebel garb. I almost felt sorry for him.
The weeks went by, but we learned nothing of Slater’s fate. Every time a batch of new prisoners was brought in, I was scared he might be with them. I knew he’d pay hard for his tricks if they ever caught him. Finally, late in February, I received a battered letter from the North, from a cousin who didn’t exist. I had to read it twice before I understood that “Uncle John” referred to our regimental colonel, and Colonel Thiessen had to tell me that “ophidians” were snakes. The rest was clear enough.
Dear Cousin Robert,
I hope you are all right. I thought it would be nice to go home for my birthday. It’s a miserable journey in the wintertime, as you might expect. When I got there, Uncle John said the only thing I looked to be good for was a coatrack. So he sent me to Springfield for three weeks. I bought Karin a ring, and we are now formally engaged. I went to see your folks. They are well but very worried about you and they send you all their prayers and good wishes. I’m heading back to Uncle John’s place tomorrow; he has a lot of work to do. Good luck to you all. Your obedient servant and ophidian cousin,
Jay N Taylor.
Jeremy Slater and I will never really be friends; we’re too different for that. Though he’s never blamed me for the times I wronged him, I don’t suppose he will ever quite forget. But if we both survive the war, I mean to go to Boston once a year, every summer, to the very best part of Boston, where I’ll find a fancy shop with a fancy sign in the window: J. N. SLATER, ESQUIRE: FINE TAILORING FOR GENTLEMEN. And I’ll buy myself something fine—the finest I can afford—as a way of saying what I think of him.
Once every summer. For as long as I live.
FORGE BOOKS BY ED GORMAN
(as editor)
The World’s Finest Mystery and Crime Stories: First Annual Collection
The World’s Finest Mystery and Crime Stories: Second Annual Collection
The Blue and the Gray Undercover
Blood Game
What the Dead Men Say
Moonchasers and Other Stories
(as E. J. Gorman)
The First Lady
The Marilyn Tapes
Senatorial Privilege
ABOUT THE EDITOR
Ed Gorman, winner of the Shamus Award, has been nominated for the Edgar and Bram Stoker Awards. He is the author of more than twenty novels ranging from mystery and suspense to western and historical fiction. He’s also had dozens of short stories published in many magazines and anthologies. Editor of Mystery Scene Magazine, he lives with his wife, author Carol Gorman, in Cedar Rapids, Iowa.
“Hobson’s Choice” copyright © 2001 by John Lutz
“The Measure” copyright © 2001 by Gary Phillips
“The Counterfeit Copperhead” copyright © 2001 by Edward D. Hoch
“The Dead Line” copyright © 2001 by Kristine Kathryn Rusch
“South Georgia Crossing” copyright © 2001 by Loren D. Estleman
“The Invisible Spy” copyright © 2001 by Brendan DuBois
“Monica Van Telflin and the Proper Application of Pressure” copyright © 2001 by James H. Cobb
“Worth a Thousand Words” copyright © 2001 by Aileen Schumacher
“Belle Boyd, the Rebel Spy” copyright © 2001 by Bill Crider
“The Knights of Liberty” copyright © 2001 by Robert J. Randisi
“Port Tobacco” copyright © 2001 by Orania Papazoglou
“The Swan” copyright © 2001 by Ray Vukcevich
“The Courtship of Captain Swenk” copyright © 2001 by P. G. Nagle
“The Road to Stony Creek” copyright © 2001 by Jane Lindskold
“Other ……… 1” copyright © 2001 by Janet Berliner-Gluckman
“The Turncoat” copyright © 2001 by Doug Allyn
“A Small and Private War” copyright © 2001 by Ed Gorman
“Slither” copyright © 2001 by Marie Jakober
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in the stories in this collection are either fictitious or are used fictitiously.
THE BLUE AND THE GRAY UNDERCOVER
Copyright © 2001 by Tekno Books and Ed Gorman
All rights reserved.
Edited by James Frenkel
A Forge Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
175 Fifth Avenue
New York, NY 10010
www.tor.com
Forge® is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
The blue and the gray undercover / edited by Ed Gorman.
p. cm.
ISBN 0-312-87487-1 (hc)
ISBN 0-312-87537-1 (pbk)
1. United States—History—Civil War, 1861–1865—Secret service—Fiction. 2. Undercover operations—Fiction. 3. Secret service—Fiction. 4. War stories, American. 5. Spy stories, American. I. Gorman, Edward.
PS648.C54 B57 2001
813'.0108358—dc21
2001040486
First Hardcover Edition: November 2001
First Trade Paperback Edition: October 2002
eISBN 9781466839014
First eBook edition: January 2013
yscale(100%); filter: grayscale(100%); " class="sharethis-inline-share-buttons">share
