The Sorrowful Girl: A Liam Barrett Gilded Age Novel (Liam Barrett Gilded Age Novels Book 1) by Keenan Powell

Author:Keenan Powell [Powell, Keenan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Three Hooligans Press
Published: 2023-09-22T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter eighteen

An Unwelcomed Guest

“What brings you here, Stanley?” Cunningham asked.

The crone had told him to go around to the back, that was where he’d find the old man. Cunningham was standing near a fountain, smoking a cigar, gazing at the mansion.

Stanley rubbed the bruises on his right hand, gotten when he drove his fist into the horse trainer’s face. “I heard something, Mr. Cunningham. Something I thought you’d want to know right away.”

He didn’t want to blurt out his news all at once. He wanted to savor it, make the big man ask for it.

“Get on with it, Stanley. What is it?”

“Liam Barrett, that Adams cop who’s working for you.”

“He’s not working for me, lad, but I know who you mean.”

Stanley was confused. He worked for Cunningham. Barrett was getting the jobs he should have. Barrett must be working for Cunningham too.

“His uncle is a Molly Maguire.”

Cunningham flicked an ash from his cigar. He wasn’t impressed with the news. “And you know this how?”

“Old Felix Maguire let it slip.”

“What’s your thinking?”

“If the uncle is a rabble-rouser, maybe the nephew is too. I thought you’d want to know who was working for you.”

Stanley felt like the earth was crumbling beneath his feet. He’d brought a choice bit of news to the old man which should have proven his value, his ability to find out secrets and his loyalty in reporting them. Now told, not only was the old man not impressed but Stanley had lost his advantage.

“He doesn’t work for me, I told you that.” Cunningham tried to puff on his cigar but it had gone out. “What, if any, is the relationship between Liam and Joe Hogan, the storekeeper? Have you found anything that links them?”

“Barrett was sweethearts with Hogan’s daughter.”

“Joe Hogan is a problem. I have long suspected that he was involved with the Mollys. It’s too convenient, his little store. His wagons going in and out of Adams for supplies. Guns could come and go through there and no one would be the wiser.”

“You think they’re planning something for the dedication? A riot?”

“They very well could be, with old Joe Hogan in the thick of it. Here I’m trying to improve their lives, their minds, by giving them a library filled with books. And I’m bringing the governor to visit their little hamlet. That’s no way to repay my generosity, is it, Stanley?”

“No, sir, it is not.”

“Hogan is building a new warehouse. That’s where they would be hiding their arms, don’t you think, Stanley?”

“Yes, sir, I do.”

Cunningham examined the blackened butt of his cigar. He pulled a match from his pocket, struck it on the fountain’s stonework and it flared to life. He put the cigar in his mouth, tilted his head, and held the flame beneath the tip as he puffed until the ember glowed again. He held the burning match aloft.

“Behold fire, Captain Stanley. It gives us light and warmth. Turns water into steam to power our engines. Cooks our food. And, yet, unharnessed, it has the power to destroy.

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