The Unsealing: Love, Lust, and Murder in the Gilded Age by Robert Brighton

Author:Robert Brighton [Brighton, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Copper Nickel Press
Published: 2023-02-27T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 32

Panic

Alicia was already at a table in the sunlit breakfast parlor of the Hoffman when Arthur came downstairs, a newspaper tucked under his arm.

“Long time, no see,” she said.

“I’m moving slowly this morning.”

“So am I,” she said.

“Do I flatter myself that I had something to do with that?”

“You do. Flatter yourself, that is.”

“You do know how to keep me humble,” he said.

“Someone has to.”

“Say, would you mind if I took a quick glance at the paper? I picked up the evening edition when we got in last evening, but after we got to the room”—he leaned over the table and whispered—“I was distracted and didn’t check it.”

“Go right ahead. I’ll order some coffee.”

Alicia waved the waiter over as Arthur opened his newspaper. The evening edition of the Brooklyn Eagle had only sketchy coverage of the day’s doings on Wall Street. It seemed like there had been quite a bit of volatility, wild price swings in some big-name stocks. Ed was right about that, he thought. Yet whenever the market is down, Montana always seems to go up. He found the list of stock quotes and ran his finger down the long column. Here it is. Montana Copper, at the close. $30 a share.

He looked again, running his finger over the chalky newsprint, making sure he was on the right line. That’s what it says. $30? Must be a misprint, he thought. Probably supposed to be $130, up another five dollars. He folded the paper neatly next to his plate and rubbed black ink onto his napkin. It left an ugly smudge on the crisp, white linen.

“Everything good?” Alicia asked.

“As good as the news ever is.”

When breakfast arrived, he dived in with his usual enthusiasm, but the Montana Stock quote nagged at him, misprint or not. He ought to telephone Baker. It had been a little shabby of him to promise to call the stockbroker and then skedaddle instead, but he’d been eager to get out of the house before Cassie could ask any probing questions.

They lingered over breakfast until almost 10 o’clock, when Arthur felt that he could gracefully excuse himself, saying that he had to make a couple of quick calls. Alicia said she’d meet him in the Grand Salon.

“A grand place to talk about new beginnings,” he said.

He had wanted to tell Allie last night about his imminent stock windfall, but one thing had led to another. On this fine morning, in the most opulent palace hotel in New York City, he would surprise her. As soon as he got this call out of the way.

Arthur spoke to the concierge and arranged to place a long-distance call to Bartlett & Frazier. He waited in the little booth, wiggling his foot back and forth. After a few minutes, the phone rang, and he picked up the earpiece.

“Bartlett and Frazier. Baker speaking.”

“Mr. Baker? Arthur Pendle here.”

“Finally!” Baker said.

Arthur was perplexed. “It’s nice to hear your voice.”

It was difficult to tell who was trying to speak on a long-distance telephone line that had barely enough capacity for one conversation, let alone hundreds.

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