“Unless by amazing coincidence the Sheriff, the Army Guard, and the Governor’s man all dropped in on the same night,” said Isaac Bell.
Bell was seething. The cost of the botched raid was almost incalculable. Culp was in the clear. Branco was still on the loose, deadly as ever and protected by Culp. Culp had demonstrated his power to bring in big guns to defend his secret alliance with the gangster. While they had somehow managed the near impossible—catching wind ahead of time about a secret Van Dorn raid.
Archie repeated, “This is awful. They knew we were coming.”
“We will find out how,” Bell repeated.
Bell was dozing on his feet, shoulder to shoulder with the rest of his squad, when he heard Joseph Van Dorn thunder in full voice. The Boss stood outside the cell in a derby hat and a voluminous overcoat.
“Sorriest bunch of miscreants I’ve ever seen in one lockup. They’re an insult to the criminal classes. But hand them over anyway.”
The Sheriff looked abruptly awakened and very anxious. “Mr. Culp is going to be mighty angry.”
“Tell Mr. Culp to take it up with the United States Attorney for the Southern District of New York, which has federal jurisdiction over Orange County. Show him that letter the U.S. Attorney gave me to give to you. Open up, man! We have a train to catch. Come along, boys. Double-time . . . Lord, that jailhouse stink! Good thing I chartered a cattle car to take you home in.”
A scathing nod in Bell’s direction instructed him to join the Boss for a private word. They stood in the vestibule when the train left the station. Van Dorn’s voice was cold, his eyes colder.
“The U.S. Attorney owed me an enormous favor. Springing your squad cleared the books, and he made it abundantly clear that next time we’re on our own. So let me make it abundantly clear, Isaac: No Van Dorn detective will scale the Raven’s Eyrie wall again without my express permission.”
“Except, of course,” said Bell, “if we’re in hot pursuit of Antonio Branco.”
Van Dorn’s cheeks flared as red as his whiskers and the Boss was suddenly as angry as Bell had ever seen him. “If Antonio Branco is halfway over Culp’s wall and you are hanging by his ankles, wire me on the private telegraph and wait for my specific go-ahead.”
As the train neared the city, Archie Abbott whispered, “Isaac, I have to talk to you.”
Bell led him into the vestibule where Van Dorn had expressed his displeasure. “What’s up?”
“It was my fault, Isaac.”
“Everyone did their job. We hit, front and back, right on the nose. It’s not your fault they were waiting.”
“I’m afraid it was,” said Archie.
“What are you talking about?”
Abbott hung his head. He looked mortified, and it began to dawn on Isaac Bell that his old friend Archie Abbott was more deeply downcast than even the Raven’s Eyrie fiasco would warrant.
“What are you saying, Archie?”
“I think I was played for a sucker.”
“Who played you—the girl you’ve been seeing?”
“Francesca.”
“You told Marion you were ‘besotted.’”
“Totally.”
“What did you tell Francesca?”
“Only that I was going on a raid. I had to break a date. I said I’d be away overnight, up the river.”
“Archie . . .” Bell felt his head swimming. Culp was in the clear. Culp protected Branco.
“I just didn’t think.”
“Did you tell her we were after Culp?”
“No! . . . Well, I mean, not really.”
“What the devil does ‘not really’ mean?” Bell exploded. “You either told her it was Culp or you didn’t.”
“I said it was Culp’s house. I didn’t say we were after Culp. It could have been anyone on the estate. I was sure that was the impression I left. Until—”
“Until Culp had the Sheriff and the Army Guard ambush us . . . What the devil were you thinking, Archie? . . . Sounds like you weren’t thinking.”
“Not clearly. What do you want me to do, Isaac? Should I resign?”
Isaac Bell looked him in the face. Not only were they the closest friends but Bell felt responsible for him because he had talked Archie into joining the Van Dorns. He said, “I have to think about it. And I have to talk to Mr. Van Dorn, of course.”
“He’ll fire me in a second.”
“He’s the Boss. I have no choice.”
“I should save him the trouble and quit.”
Archie should resign, thought Bell. He knew the Boss well enough to know that Van Dorn was in no mood to forgive. But he was getting the glimmer of an idea how he might turn the tables on Branco.
“You know, Archie, you’re still not thinking clearly.”
“What do you mean?”
“Pray this doesn’t get in the papers. Because if it does and your Francesca reads it, she will put two and two together and realize that the boss she ‘confessed’ to in that church is Branco. And she will also know that when Branco reads it, he will know that she knows. Branco went to great lengths to ensure that the criminals who carried out his orders could never implicate him, much less testify against him.”
“What are you saying?”
“How long will he let Francesca live?”