A House Divided by Jonathan F. Putnam

Author:Jonathan F. Putnam
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Crooked Lane Books

CHAPTER 23

“I confess I’ve always had a bit of wonder about that man,” said Mary as she read over the article one more time.

“Oh?”

“Something about him doesn’t feel right. My father served several years as president of the Kentucky State Bank, back home in Lexington. He came into contact with European bankers in the course of his work, and I insisted that he take me with him to several meetings.” Mary smiled. “Mr. Belmont’s manner is very different than what I’ve seen in that class of men.”

“I’ve been telling Lincoln all along he’s a suspicious character.”

“Then we must show him at once what you’ve found.”

I began to make an excuse as to why this wasn’t possible, but I stopped myself before the words left my mouth. Everything was different now, I realized in a flash. Just as my frank conversation with Mary had definitively turned the page and opened the way for a new, more satisfying, relationship between me and her, it had also changed my dealings with Lincoln. If we were no longer romantic rivals, then there was no reason for me to cling to my grievance. The clouds parted, and all at once I felt a rush of happiness.

“Yes, let’s,” I said. I lent her my arm and she took it. We shared a happy smile, the two of us feeling flush with the success of having puzzled out together a mystery, even if the greater mystery of Fisher’s murder remained, for the time being, unsolved. And good fortune continued to smile upon us, for there was Lincoln himself on the road ahead, striding towards us in great haste.

“Lincoln,” I shouted.

“Speed! I heard a report that Miss Todd took ill. Have you seen—” Lincoln belatedly noticed Mary at my side. He came to a sudden halt. His facial muscles contorted with rage, and he exploded with an anger I had never seen before.

“How dare you! Both of you! After all we’ve—”

Both Mary and I were motioning frantically to get Lincoln to stop his rant, but our coordinated actions only seemed to fan his fire.

“—been through. An outrage! An affront! I thought I knew—”

“Stop, Lincoln!” I shouted.

“Please, Abraham,” pleaded Mary.

Lincoln finally paused for breath.

“It’s not what you think,” I said. “Everything’s changed.”

“I’ll say everything’s changed,” said Lincoln, pointing at our linked arms, his breaths still coming fast and furious.

“Will you please listen for a second?” said Mary. “Just for one second.”

Something about her urgent, earnest tone connected with the man. Lincoln stopped his tirade and took a deep breath to gather himself. He nodded.

“First of all,” I said, “I need to apologize for the way I acted. I think, in fairness, we owe one to each other, but since I threw the first punch, I’ll speak first. I am very sorry for how I’ve behaved, Lincoln, when we fought and for the past week, too. I’d like to think I’m a better man.”

I held out my hand, but Lincoln only looked at it warily. “And this?” he said, nodding at Mary and me, standing side by side.

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