Only in My Arms (52 page)

"And it's doubtful it would have been granted," Ryder said. "One man. Two. Maybe a half dozen could have been expected to be permitted to transfer, but not
all
of them. And they were fresh recruits, newly assigned to the post just before the gold shipment was supposed to take place."

"Do you see?" Mary asked eagerly when Stillwell didn't respond. "They were assigned to the fort for just one purpose—to be part of escorting and protecting the gold."

"Of course I see," he said. "But what does it mean? They were assigned, did their job—poorly, I might add, or the Apache raid wouldn't have been so successful—then they were transferred. You two have drawn some conclusion other than the one I have settled on."

Mary shifted to the edge of her seat and asked earnestly, "Senator Stillwell, do you believe Ryder's innocent of the charges leveled against him?"

There was no hesitation. "Of course I do."

Satisfied, she nodded once. "It's Ryder's contention that there were no Apache involved in the massacre."

The senator's attention turned to his nephew. "You've said that before, but you've lacked evidence to support it."

Ryder rested his forearms on his knees. "It was impossible for me to prove it wasn't a Chiricahua raid," Ryder said frankly. "I wasn't allowed to return to the canyon after my arrest. I believe investigators who did go saw things that were placed there purposely to support the stories of the surviving soldiers. Only one Army scout—Rosario—was permitted to comb the area, and he had his own reasons for concealing the truth."

"And the truth is..." Stillwell sounded both impatient and expectant.

Mary broke in. "The truth is that the
massacre
was a surprise attack by the new recruits against the old ones."

Complete silence followed her announcement. The senator exhaled very slowly, his narrowed eyes moving thoughtfully from Ryder to Mary, then back to Ryder. "Did you put that idea in her head?" he asked at last.

"I gave her the information," Ryder said. "Mary's quite capable of putting things together on her own."

"You realize what you're saying, don't you? You're talking about brother against brother here. A bloody little civil war right in Colter Canyon, Arizona."

"That's what it was," said Ryder. "Except it had no purpose other than greed."

Stillwell stubbed out his cigar. "They sure as hell weren't able to execute this plan all on their own."

Ryder nodded. "You're right. This kind of operation—the dates, the assignments, the route—demanded help from someone who had access to all that information. I was one of those people."

"Except that Ryder didn't have the authority to transfer men in or out of Fort Union," Mary said. "He could have suggested certain men to General Gardner, but that was the extent of his influence."

The senator's frown deepened as he tried to take it in. "Then you're saying Gardner put this attack together and framed you?"

Ryder shook his head. "I'd never believe that. It was someone who could wield more power than the commander."

"But who—"

"Warren Hamilton," said Ryder.

Stillwell was in the process of raising the glass of Montrachet to his lips. He paused in midmotion, stunned. "Hamilton?" he said softly. "That doesn't seem—"

Mary nodded, understanding. "We know. It will be hard for anyone to believe, and that's why we need your help." She began to click off points on her fingers. "We know these things: Senator Hamilton is a member of several committees that oversee expenditures to the War Department; he has been supportive of the Western Campaign from the outset; he has financial interests in Holland Mines; he was influential in helping Northeast Rail secure a land grant for the railroad in that area; he was at the fort at the time of the raid; and"—Mary drew a quiet breath and let her fingers fold back into a loose fist—"and his daughter was instrumental in supporting the charge of treason against Ryder."

"My God," the senator said again, softly this time. He straightened a little and added flatly, "You realize, of course, that most of your points could be made about me. I wasn't at the fort at the time of the raid, and Anna Leigh is not my daughter, but other than that..." He drank some of his wine. His eyes were fixed on a point beyond Ryder's shoulder. He was a man caught in his memories. "Until the debacle at Colter Canyon and his daughter's ridiculous charges, I counted Warren Hamilton among my friends. We served together... had the same outlook. And when we didn't"—he smiled slightly—"we enjoyed wrangling like two young bucks." He came out of his reverie and looked hard at his nephew. "I don't believe it. What was his motive?"

"His share of the gold. It was a rich prize."

"Perhaps, but I don't think he would risk so much for it. It doesn't fit with the man I know—or knew."

Mary's shoulders sagged a little. "Then you won't help us prove it?" she asked.

"I didn't say that." Stillwell refilled his wine glass. This time when he sipped, it was apparent he was deriving more pleasure from the experience. "Warren Hamilton," he said slowly, drawing out the name as if it were the first time he had ever heard it. "It just doesn't seem possible. You may be headed in the right direction, but I think you've jumped a track or two. Why don't you let me make a few inquiries into this? I'd be happy to—"

Mary stood now. "No," she said clearly, forcefully. "Forgive me, Senator, but for too long this has been left to other people. Every day that Ryder and I spend in Washington is dangerous. There's no telling at what point one of us will be recognized and turned in. If that were to happen much of what would follow would be out of our control. That's an unacceptable risk. We need your help now, and we need you working
with
us, not on your own."

Stillwell considered Mary thoughtfully and then looked to his nephew. "You agree with her?" he asked.

Ryder nodded. "I can tell you that from the beginning she wanted to come here. I didn't. But yes, in light of what we know now, I agree with her."

The senator's expression didn't change. Ryder's statement was not an unexpected response. "Give me something else," he said at last. "I do believe you're innocent, but I'll be damned if I'll believe Warren Hamilton is behind this. You must have something more."

Ryder and Mary exchanged glances, and Mary gave Ryder an almost imperceptible nod of encouragement. "Last night," Ryder said, "Mary and I waited outside the Regent Theater." He saw his uncle stiffen slightly. "Yes, we saw you there, and we saw you intentionally not acknowledge them. It's what gave Mary hope that you could be persuaded to assist us."

"Go on," Wilson Stillwell said.

"After the performance we followed Anna Leigh and her father home. We had no intention other than to see where and how they lived."

"Then you observed for yourself that Warren Hamilton does not need money."

"On the contrary," Ryder said. "I observed someone whose particular way of living requires a great deal of money."

"You saw what you wanted to see."

Mary's hands curled into fists at her sides. "We saw," she said pointedly, "Anna Leigh and her father greet Lieutenant Davis Rivers moments after they arrived home." Wilson Stillwell merely stared at her, his features nearly expressionless. "Davis Rivers," she repeated. "The man who was promoted after the raid for capturing Ryder was a guest in the Hamilton home."

"It doesn't prove anything," Stillwell said carefully. "It doesn't—"

"More to the point," Mary interrupted. "Rivers and Anna Leigh Hamilton are lovers." At first there was no reaction that she could detect on the part of Wilson Stillwell; then Mary glanced at the hand holding the wine glass. His knuckles were white on the delicate stem of the crystal.

"You know this?" the senator asked.

"We saw enough to be confident of our conclusion." She added primly, "It would have been unseemly to witness more than we did."

Wilson Stillwell set his glass aside. He raised one hand slowly to his face and rubbed his brow hard with thumb and fingers as he thought. The lines on his forehead deepened. His eyes nearly closed. "He'd do most anything for her," he said, more to himself than his guests. "I always knew she was his weakness. He could never tolerate a word being said against her. Too much like his wife, she was, in looks if not in character. Warren never could get past one to see the other." He sighed heavily and his hand dropped away. He studied Ryder for a long moment. "She's a better motive than greed," he said finally. "I don't think you'd ever have convinced me Hamilton would have done it for the money... but for her—for Anna Leigh—he might very well have sold his soul."

"I think he did just that," Ryder said quietly.

Mary went to the fireplace and poked at the logs. Fire crackled and spit at her. She brushed the hem of her skirt but didn't move away. She was cold to her marrow. "We can't know how the plan was first conceived or who may have suggested it. I don't even know how much that matters now. It seems clear, however, that Senator Hamilton was in a position to orchestrate it."

Ryder went on. "I was assigned to Fort Union to organize the delivery of the gold shipment. I was responsible for almost every aspect of that mission, and you were influential in getting me that appointment."

Stillwell chuckled humorlessly. "Hamilton suggested it. Said it would be a feather in your cap... and in mine." He topped off his wine glass and said under his breath, "The bastard."

"The records at the War Office indicate that Davis Rivers was an attaché to General Norman Dalton here in Washington before his assignment to Fort Union. His transfer and that of about thirty-five other men can all be traced back in one way or another to Warren Hamilton."

"Hamilton can't make the transfers you suggest. No senator can. That's the province of the Army."

Mary regarded Senator Stillwell frankly. "Are you saying that you don't have enough influence to see the thing done?" she asked. "A word in the right ear? A promise to the right person. A favor extended?" Mary saw immediately that she had him. For the senator to deny it would be admitting that his leverage and authority was not as extensive as he wanted others to believe. If he admitted that he had the power and prestige to accomplish such a task, then he was also saying that someone like Hamilton could do the thing as well.

Stillwell regarded Mary consideringly. "You're a very clever young woman," he said at last. "Perhaps too clever for your own good." Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ryder shift slightly and recognized that he needed to tread carefully. "But, yes, you're correct. I could arrange it if that were my desire. It's not easy to admit that Hamilton carries as much in the way of clout as I do, but it's true nonetheless. There are ways it could be accomplished."

Satisfied, Mary returned to the settee. "Then a reasonable conclusion is that Senator Hamilton helped arrange the assignments of a group of men who had no real purpose at Fort Union except to steal the gold shipment."

Ryder's long fingers intertwined and became a single fist. "In carrying out their mission, they murdered an equal number of men assigned to escort the wagons, planted evidence to make it seem as though it were a Chiricahua raid, stole the gold, and arranged very neatly for me to assume the blame."

"Miss Hamilton," the senator said softly.

Ryder nodded. "Mary suspected her part in this long before I did. The senator's daughter was instrumental in making certain I was unavailable at the time of massacre."

Stillwell's lips compressed. He sighed heavily. "Why weren't you killed?"

"I might have been if it weren't for Miss Hamilton's successful playacting and her sordid account. I think it was decided it was better to have someone to accuse for the mission's failure than to leave an open-ended investigation into the matter."

"Ryder was the perfect choice to take the blame," Mary said.

"He certainly was," Stillwell agreed. "My God, he certainly was."

"The hangman was supposed to silence me."

Wilson Stillwell's mouth curled upward in a humorless smile, but his eyes alighted appreciatively on Mary. "And he would have if it hadn't been for Mary here."

"More or less," Ryder said enigmatically, refusing to explain her real role in his escape or that of Florence Gardner. His quick glance at Mary cautioned her as well.

The senator raised his wine glass again and sipped. "Obviously there's something you don't wish to tell me," he said. "I have no problem with that, but do you know where the gold is?"

Ryder shook his head. "We don't think it's in Arizona any longer. It was Mary's idea to follow Miss Hamilton in the hope she would lead us to it."

"Well, she led you to Lieutenant Rivers and to her father. I'd say Mary's instincts are good ones. Who can say where the gold might turn up?" He leaned back in his large armchair. "I've heard quite enough to make my decision." He sipped his wine again and then regarded them both over the rim of his glass. "How is it that I can assist you in bringing Hamilton and his slut of a daughter to justice?"

Mary blinked, taken aback by an underlying viciousness in the senator's almost genial tone.

"Do I shock you, Mary?" he asked matter-of-factly. "Did you think I wouldn't take this information so personally? I don't know what my nephew's told you about our relationship, but I can assure you I take this all very,
very
personally. Not only was Ryder cruelly maligned, but I was unwittingly duped into offering myself up for public ridicule."