Forever Young Birth Of A Nation (20 page)

Looking about Ian saw Paul Revere in the
company of several men, standing off to one side. He nodded to him
and Revere looked puzzled at first and then smiled broadly and
waved after seeing Moon Owl. Ian knew that he had changed his look
well enough then to be safe enough even in this crowd.

The highlight of the evening was when the
group all queued up to dance the Scottish Reel. Soon they were well
into it and Moon Owl was having the time of her life. Her dark eyes
fairly sparkled and the smile she wore rarely left her face. In
fact she would have gladly admitted that this may have been the
happiest night of her life had she been asked.

They danced to the lively music and even did
some of the jigs that Ian had taught her to some of the songs. A
happy couple they talked with said that the Scottish Reel was
called the Virginia Reel where they had come from. The people were
in generally high spirits in spite of the occupation. They had made
it through some three-fourths of the evening when James came to Ian
with a serious look on his face.

“Ian, Grundy has just come through the
door.”

“What!” Ian felt cold reality grip him then.
In seconds it was apparent that not only was he out of uniform, but
that he had brought no redcoats detachment of his own along. He
resolved that if seen he would simply start a fight, knock the man
unconscious and make an escape through a window. “You take Melissa
now and when he moves away from the door, leave. We will avoid him
and stay on opposite sides of the room. We will leave after you two
do.”

In just a few minutes, Grundy moved
counterclockwise from the entrance. James and Melissa slipped out
unnoticed with a small group. Ian spoke to Moon Owl in a low voice
saying “That is the man looking for me. Watch him now and then as
we move toward the door.” Looking away Ian and Moon Owl moved
slowly toward the door, staying on the opposite side of the room as
Grundy. Suddenly Moon Owl stopped and said “Ian, he is coming this
way!

Determining to take his cue from Moon Owl
Ian simply stood facing away from Grundy as he approached. In a low
voice he said “Try to avoid looking at him.”

Walking past Ian at only two paces distance,
he nodded and touched his hat as he passed Moon Owl. She glanced at
him and curtseyed briefly and looked away as the man continued over
to a large, blonde-headed well-dressed man. Apparently he knew the
man because the two talked as if they were well acquainted.

Ian and Moon Owl made it to the door then,
to find Melissa and James waiting outside near a street lamp.
Helping Moon Owl into her coat the two approached James and Melissa
then. Ian said “I am sorry, Melissa but that man is looking for
James and I to make trouble for us. We left New York because we
feared that he would throw both of us into jail. He is out of
uniform tonight, but he is a redcoat colonel.”

“What is his name, Ian?”

“Colonel Harold Grundy; why?”

“I will make inquiries.” Turning to James
she said “Let’s go to my place. I am freezing out here.”

Ian spoke then saying “Melissa, James; might
I trouble you to take Monique along? I am staying here to see what
Grundy is up to.”

They agreed then and Ian kissed Moon Owl
before assisting her climbing up into the wagon seat. He hopped up
nimbly into the back and wrapped two blankets about the two women
doubling them so they could share their body warmth. “Let me tie
our horses to your wagon, James. I won’t need it tonight. I will be
along later. Don’t wait up for me.” He kissed Moon Owl one last
time and hopped down. In a minute he had secured their horses and
wagon to the back of the other one and waving good bye, he walked
away to melt into the shadows outside of Faneuil Hall.

As the three pulled away, the other wagon in
tow, he watched intently to see if they were followed. Shortly he
was convinced that they were not followed and settled in patiently
like any skilled predator would, watching the entrance and
scrutinizing anyone going or coming with his keen vampire’s eyes.
He was pleased with this development being as he now had the
advantage of knowing that Grundy was in Boston whereas Grundy was
likely clueless regarding Ian’s whereabouts.
This is a good
thing. God has smiled on me tonight.

***

Chief of all of the King’s Gendarmes Claude
Rousseau peered intently at the letter in his hands. It bore the
unmistakable seal of the Laforges and was marked as being of the
highest priority. Never had he seen one designated in this way,
from when he was only head inspector in Marseille to this day. They
had delivered on every promise made some nine years earlier and he
sitting in the office of Chief of the King’s Gendarmes in Paris was
proof of that.

This man from England was to be followed and
every contact noted accurately. He was not to be approached under
any circumstance and an agent of the Gendarmerie was to be assigned
to follow him back to England as well and to report to the Chief of
Constables in London after ascertaining where the man lived and
only after being doubly sure of that information being correct.
This agent must be able to speak English and to understand it, and
must report only to Claude Rousseau himself.

Explicit instructions were given for
contacting the chief of Constables and also orders to have every
single contact the man made while in France or any other country,
and then to have those people watched as well. This might turn into
a large-scale operation. Rousseau knew that finally he had come to
a point where he would truly be earning not only the trust of the
Laforges, but would be earning that fat private bank account in
Lausanne as well. Laforge himself guaranteed skilled assistants to
accompany Rousseau’s agents at all times and gave explicit
instructions for contacting one to start that process. It was to be
done this very day. Additionally he would be informed by this first
contact where to find the subject in France. He thought
My God!
They know where he is even now and are only handing him off to me!
What don’t they know?

He had his assistant cancel every
appointment that day and took his coat as he departed from his
office.

Henri himself was now in Paris and had
successfully located the man who was watching the Banque de
Lafayette now, waiting to pick up Henri’s trail. Now disguised as
an elderly man only feeding pigeons on a misty Paris day, Henri was
going to oblige him as soon as Jennifer brought Rousseau and his
people to this place. Meanwhile he kept the man on a loose leash
and bided his time as any good predator will do. It was second
nature to Henri, being over four hundred sixty years old and having
forgotten more than most men ever learned about the art of
surveillance. He had a grim satisfaction that this was going so
well.

Only a half mile distant Chief of the King’s
Gendarmes Claude Rousseau walked into the designated hotel. It was
a respectable establishment, but was not in the same class as those
located along the Champs Elysees. There was little chance that any
of the members of France’s upper class would chance upon Rousseau
here.

Going to the designated table Rousseau sat
and ordered a glass of wine from the waiter. After he had taken a
few sips, he was aware of being approached from the rear in the
dimly lit dining area. “Bon jour, Monsieur Rousseau.” He turned to
see that the owner of that silky voice was a young woman wearing a
wide brimmed hat and a well-tailored dress of sophisticated design.
Carrying a glass of wine herself she seated herself across from him
and slid a package across the table. Even through the fashionable
netting across the front of her hat, he could see her lovely blue
eyes and her striking beauty.

“May I open this, Mademoiselle?”

“Please do, Monsieur. You may call me
Annette.”

Nodding he peered intently at the contents
of the packet. Inside was a skillfully rendered sketch of a man and
a complete description of him down to the style of clothing he was
last seen to wear and his estimated weight. “This is remarkable
work Annette. I could pay a man well to work for the King’s
Gendarmes who had this skill.”

“You could not pay the lady who did this
sketch enough, nor could you entice her to leave England, Monsieur
Rousseau.”

He nodded as he thought
My God! The
Laforges have skilled contacts in England that discovered that this
fellow is coming to France to investigate someone! What kind of an
information network must they have to have such a long reach and
such influence!
He replied “You know where he is even now?”

“Yes. He is being watched even now. When
your man gets here, we three shall take a short walk and you will
see him.” As if on cue, a tall man walked into the dining area and
looking around, he made his way to their table. Introductions were
made and the three shortly departed.

As they neared the Banque de Lafayette,
Rousseau noticed two men on two different park benches, separated
by some one hundred fifty feet or more. He noticed that one, an
elderly man, got up from a bench and shuffled off around the corner
of the bank itself.

Once out of sight, Henri sprinted to a side
door of the bank and producing a key unlocked it and quickly ducked
through it. Shedding his shabby topcoat and donning a perfectly
tailored topcoat waiting for him there, he likewise removed the
shaggy white wig he had on, along with the nose putty and fake
eyebrows. Wiping his face well with a towel as he climbed some back
stairs he soon came to the front lobby of his bank.

Putting on a fashionable tri corner hat he
stepped out, walking past the trio and soon, past the man who was
watching him while pretending to ignore him. Crossing Champs
Elysees, he headed down that street to a fashionable restaurant and
before he was across the wide boulevard the man was following him.
Rousseau nodded to his agent and walked away with Jennifer. As they
walked, Jennifer said “Well done, Monsieur Rousseau. Monsieur
Laforge will be well-pleased with my report. Bon jour.”

Without a backward glance, she reversed the
direction that they had been walking and walked away from Rousseau.
He pondered the events of that day as he made his way back to his
offices.
It seems my benefactor is even more resourceful and
influential than I ever dreamed. Who are the Laforges, really? More
to the point, who is foolish enough to meddle in their affairs and
to spy on their friends?

Little did he know that the ‘friend’ who he
took to be the subject of the surveillance was also none other than
his mysterious benefactor, Laforge, minus the usual disguise.

***

About the time that Grundy departed from
Faneuil Hall, James came up silently beside Ian saying “I left Moon
Owl at Melissa’s and told them both that I was coming back to help
you. What can I do?”

As they watched Grundy climb into a closed
carriage and start away, Ian said “That big man, the one with
blonde hair that Grundy was talking to….likely he is a Tory spy or
loyalist. Follow him and see where he lives or who he talks to. I
will see you at either Melissa’s or at home.” Without waiting for a
reply he was off then, easily keeping pace with the carriage as it
moved eastward.

In some ten minutes, it arrived at a check
point with two redcoat sentries who shortly waved it through. Ian
merely skirted the sentries, leaping a high wall as if it was not
even there as he scanned the area to pick up sight of his quarry.
The carriage clattered up to the entrance of a three story brick
building which was in fact a very fine home which the British High
Command had commandeered from the owner for quartering officers of
the highest rank in Boston. The owner, a patriot, was forced with
his family to live in Danbury, Connecticut with his sister and her
husband for the duration.

Grundy walked up to the steps and the two
redcoat sentries there saluted him smartly as he walked past. Ian
noted that there was something a bit different about Grundy’s
uniform, but he paid it no mind at that time.

Soon he had skirted the place and noted that
only two more sentries were on duty at the rear of the place. A few
were walking about on the grounds, likely to keep warm as much as
anything. Easily avoiding all of them, Ian soon had his boots and
socks off and was scaling the rough brick wall of the south side of
the mansion, using the architectural features of the place for
handholds. Looking like a large spider, he crawled all over the
walls, pausing at windows here and there to listen. Eventually he
found Grundy’s quarters, being a tiny room on the 3
^rd
floor. He watched the man as he undressed in the cramped quarters
and then he realized that he no longer had the rank of Colonel. He
guessed then that he had been downgraded to captain from what he
could see of the uniform before Grundy put it away in his only tiny
closet. He pondered that as the man blew out the oil lamp. Ian soon
was gone from the place, rocketing through the night toward
Melissa’s house.

Once they were home, Moon Owl thanked Ian
for such a lovely evening. He joked a bit about them having to
leave so suddenly and she reassured him that did not mar her
evening at all. They made love then in front of the fireplace and
afterward she fell asleep there. Ian carried her to her bed and
tucked her in, going back to the parlor and pacing about as he
pondered what he had seen that night.

The next day around two o’clock in the
afternoon, James arrived and seemed excited. “Ian, I followed that
man and he met with some others at someone’s house. I think that
they are all Tory loyalists or spies.”

“Hmmm. It seems that we have some
information that the patriots could use. We might see if perhaps
Mr. Revere might be interested. He is bound to know someone who
would want to know about this.”