A Fragile Design (26 page)
Mrs. Flynn folded her chunky arms beneath an ample bosom. ‘‘Go on with ya! We both know better than that! Given the choice, nobody in his right mind would live with Noreen Gallagher. Ya’re more than welcome in our home, Mr. Donohue. The mister asked me if I’d be interested in makin’ a bit of extra change for meself by taking in a boarder. Ya’d best know from the outset that you won’t have much space. I hung a curtain to give you a bit o’ privacy,’’ she said, showing him where he would sleep. ‘‘You can use this chest for yar belongings. ’Course ya can spend as much time as ya like out here with the mister and me of an evenin’,’’ she continued. ‘‘Ya can be payin’ me the same amount as ya were payin’ Noreen,’’ she added.
A sense of relief washed over Liam. ‘‘Ya have a new boarder, Mrs. Flynn—a happy one, I might be addin’.’’
‘‘Good. I do washin’ on Mondays. Ya can leave yar dirty clothes on the floor by yar bed.’’
Liam looked at her in stunned silence. ‘‘Ya’ll be doin’ my washin’?’’
‘‘Of course. Ya get three meals a day, laundry, and cleaning,’’ she replied. ‘‘Don’t want ya smellin’ up the house,’’ she said with a chuckle.
He could barely contain himself as he thanked her. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out enough money to pay her twice what he’d given Noreen. ‘‘Here’s for my first week,’’ he said, shoving the coins into her hand.
She looked down at the money and then shook her head back and forth. ‘‘That’s enough for more than two weeks. Mr. Cummiskey told me what Noreen charges,’’ she said, taking several coins and holding them out to him.
‘‘I want to pay ya more, Mrs. Flynn. Noreen provided me only one meal a day, her house was filthy, and she didn’t wash my laundry. Ya’re offerin’ much more.’’
Liam watched as she glanced toward Hugh. He nodded for her to accept. ‘‘Thank you, Mr. Donohue, but if ya find yarself fallin’ on hard times, ya let me know and we’ll go back to the lower amount.’’
‘‘Now that we’ve got things settled, we’d best be gettin’ to work,’’ Hugh said.
‘‘Ya can put yar belongings on the bed and unpack them this evenin’,’’ Mrs. Flynn offered.
Liam nodded. He was certain his money and belongings would be safe in this woman’s care.
‘‘Thank ya for yar efforts,’’ Liam said as he and Hugh walked toward the church.
‘‘You’re welcome, my boy. I didn’t want you rushin’ off to some fancy job in Boston because you were forced to live at a place like Noreen’s. Just remember—you owe me now. You can’t be leavin’ until your work at the church is completed.’’
‘‘I’ll be around at least that long. Ya’ve got my word,’’ Liam said as he stopped in front of the church and momentarily watched as Hugh strode off.
Both the noonday and evening meals exceeded Liam’s expectations. The food was hearty, well prepared, and served with a dose of pleasant conversation. Mrs. Flynn and her husband proved to be a good match. Both had a cheerful attitude and enjoyed good discussion, and they were quick to involve him in their repartee.
Liam rose from one of the wooden chairs that formed the sitting area of the large room. ‘‘If ya’ll excuse me, I’d best unpack my belongings before bedtime.’’
‘‘Ya don’t need to ask our permission to move about the place,’’ Mr. Flynn replied as he tapped his pipe on the hearth. ‘‘This is yar home, too.’’
‘‘Thank you, Mr. Flynn,’’ Liam replied before moving off to the cordoned area that was now his room.
Everything was exactly as he’d left it. The satchel, his small trunk of clothing—nothing had been touched. He ruffled through the trunk, moving his clothes, except for his heavy winter clothing, into the small chest the Flynns had provided.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Liam opened the satchel that had remained hidden in the church until this morning. Digging into the bag, he pulled out the sheaf of papers he’d retrieved from J. P. Green’s fireplace and tossed them behind him on the bed as he dug deeper, his fingers tightening around a small leather bag and pulling it into sight. Untying the cord, he carefully counted the money and then returned it to the sack, refastened the tie, and with a satisfied smile, tucked it into the bottom of his trunk.
Gathering the loose papers, he began stacking them together. Seeing row after row of figures penned on the sheets of paper, Liam ceased stacking the sheets and spread them out on the bed, reviewing the entries and becoming more and more fascinated as he looked at the numbers. He was no mathematician, but he’d had his share of education both in school and under the tutelage of a stonemason in Ireland. The old man had insisted a business could be successful only if you maintained proper ledgers.
For the next two hours Liam sat on the bed, matching the pages of the export business of J. P. Green and Nathan Appleton, unable to understand exactly what lay before him. He juggled a few more pages and then stared intently at the papers, suddenly realizing he was looking at a system of bookkeeping that revealed thousands of dollars being siphoned out of the company owned by Appleton and Green. It appeared J. P. Green was systematically transferring funds into his own company and falsifying the books of Appleton & Green Exports. Liam’s hands trembled as he stacked the sheets. No wonder Green had thrown the papers in the fireplace. He folded all of the papers except a small stack of pages that still were unclear. Dates were listed in each row, followed by a last name, first initial, and amount of money. The entries made no sense, but he didn’t want to uncover any more surprises. No doubt his knowledge of the siphoned funds could put his life in jeopardy; discovering further incriminating information would only serve to tighten the noose around his neck.
William Thurston selected a small table in a far corner of the Brackman Hotel on Beacon Street. He’d arrived in Boston last evening and hoped to be on the
Governor Sullivan
early the next morning, heading back to Lowell. This journey to Boston did not need to be lengthy, and he was pleased there was no need to linger. The social circle to which his wife and her wealthy parents belonged had already departed Boston for the summer. Of course, he’d have to make at least one appearance at The Haven this summer; after all, they must keep up appearances. His wife’s family name provided him with access to Boston’s high-powered elite, and he saved her from being called an old maid. The arrangement was unspoken but understood. It suited both of them.
He took a sip of coffee while perusing an old copy of the newspaper he’d picked up in the lobby and waited. He glanced at his pocket watch a short time later, neatly folded the paper, and kept his gaze fixed on the entrance, hoping to conclude his business as early as possible.
‘‘More coffee, sir?’’ a waiter inquired.
‘‘What? Oh, yes,’’ he replied.
‘‘I’d like one also,’’ J. P. Green said as he walked up behind the waiter.
Thurston breathed a sigh of relief. He was beginning to wonder if Green had forgotten their engagement.
‘‘Sorry for the delay, William. Hope I haven’t kept you waiting too long,’’ Green said as he seated himself opposite William. ‘‘Did you have a pleasant trip? Lovely weather for making the journey by boat.’’
Thurston stirred a dollop of cream into his coffee. ‘‘Pleasant enough. I found several gentlemen willing to rid themselves of their money at the gaming table.’’
Green laughed at the remark and then downed his coffee. He set the cup down hard before bending forward and placing his folded arms atop the table. ‘‘We’ve got a bit of a problem, William, and you’re the one who will need to correct it,’’ he said.
A knot formed in William’s belly. Green hadn’t mentioned any problem in his letter—he’d merely written to say that they needed to meet and go over future plans. ‘‘You know me, J. P.,
I’m always willing to work with you. I didn’t know I’d done anything that required altering. How can I help?’’ he asked, feigning cheerfulness.
‘‘I hope I didn’t give the wrong impression by my remark. It’s not so much that you’ve done anything wrong, William. I suppose it’s more a matter of change . . . yes, that’s it. Things are changing, and I need your help if we’re to be successful.’’
The tension in William’s face relaxed slightly. ‘‘What kind of changes?’’ he inquired tentatively.
‘‘Good ones—at least financially good. For both of us,’’ he added, wagging his finger to and fro. He moved closer and cupped his hand along one side of his mouth. ‘‘We’ve opened several new markets. One, in particular, excites me. The expansion is going to be greater than either of us ever imagined. So much so that I doubt we’ll be able to meet the demand,’’ he said, now leaning back with a look of defeat replacing his earlier excitement.
‘‘Wait—don’t give up before you’ve even told me the details,’’ Thurston said, his excitement building. ‘‘Where are these new markets?’’
‘‘Some additional overseas markets, particularly India, have captured Nathan’s interest, but we’ve begun additional shipments to the South, specifically New Orleans, and that is the market that most interests me,’’ J. P. answered.
Thurston’s eyes grew wide. ‘‘New Orleans?’’ He rubbed his fingers along his jaw. ‘‘Oh, how I love that city—the decadence is a joy to behold. I’ve not found a better place to wallow in sin,’’ he said, thinking of his last visit to the city and the mulatto girl who’d been his constant companion for five satisfying days.
‘‘I agree. And that’s what makes it such a wide-open market for us—but only if we can provide quality merchandise.’’ He leaned in close once again. ‘‘If we’re going to succeed and corner the market, I need the highest obtainable quality. Better than what you’ve provided in the past.’’
Thurston was shocked at his comment. ‘‘Higher quality? Surely you jest. I’ve given you nothing but the best. I can’t believe there’s any better to be had in New Orleans—or anywhere else for that matter.’’
‘‘Don’t play games with me, William, or I’ll find someone else who’s willing to supply what I want. It’s not as though you don’t have access. But if you’re averse to the risk that might be involved . . .’’
‘‘Might be involved? You don’t realize what you’re asking, J. P.,’’ he replied.
Green pushed away from the table and began to stand up.
‘‘Sit down! I didn’t say it was impossible or that I wasn’t interested. I said there’s a great risk involved. Sit down,’’ Thurston repeated. ‘‘Please,’’ he added, waiting until J. P. was once again seated before continuing. ‘‘You understand that what you’re asking for is going to create an uproar in Lowell—this will go beyond Kirk Boott—and the citizens will expect a higher level of participation from the Corporation. They’ll expect involvement by at least some of the Associates.’’
J. P. nodded. ‘‘You act as though you’re not one of the Associates, William. That’s the beauty of this whole thing. You spend more time in Lowell than all the rest of the Associates combined.
You can volunteer to lend your assistance on behalf of the Associates, permitting them the freedom to continue their lives without interruption, yet giving an appearance of concern and support. What better way to remain operational while thwarting the investigative process? It’s a beautiful concept,’’ he gleefully determined.
William was silent for a moment. ‘‘And the funds? This plan increases my risk dramatically. I’m certain you’ve already considered that I will need additional money.’’
‘‘Ah, William, there are some matters where I know I can always depend upon you . . . and the desire for more money is one of them.’’
‘‘That’s entirely unfair, J. P.! I’ll need men that I can trust implicitly, and such men don’t come cheap. I don’t want to have someone turn on me for a few dollars. Besides, your level of involvement doesn’t change at all while mine increases substantially. The only people who know you’re involved in this scheme are the man you’ve hired to negotiate with the ships’ captains and me. Otherwise, you’re in the clear.’’
‘‘And who’s told you that I don’t negotiate with the ships’ captains myself?’’ Green inquired with a curious grin.
William met J. P.’s gaze. ‘‘I don’t need anyone to tell me. I know you’re too smart to involve yourself with talkative seamen.’’
J. P. nodded. ‘‘I’ll take that as a compliment, William. And I know you’re too smart to take a greater risk without additional payment. I’ll pay you half again what you’ve been receiving on each delivery. Do we have an agreement?’’
Thurston nodded. ‘‘How soon will you want to begin shipping the higher quality?’’
J. P. gave him a cunning smile. ‘‘We can begin immediately, but I’ll bow to your expertise as to the amount of time needed to make arrangements in Lowell. And if you foresee a problem with storage in Lowell, I have ample space available in Boston.
Send word of the time and mode of transportation, and I’ll have men available to assist with the transfer.’’
‘‘I’ll begin making arrangements upon my return to Lowell,’’ William replied.
Bella paced back and forth between the parlor and hallway, her shoes clicking on the wooden floor with each step.
‘‘Do sit down, Bella,’’ Daughtie urged.
‘‘You’re going to wear out your shoes with all that pacing,’’ Ruth added.
Bella ignored the request and moved into the hallway. ‘‘I do wish Miss Addie would hurry. I’m sure the meeting will be crowded, and I want to get a good seat.’’
‘‘She can’t see you out here, so continuing to clomp back and forth is not going to hurry her along. I’m sure she’s moving as quickly as possible. After all, she did have to clean up after supper,’’ Daughtie retorted.
Bella stalked into the parlor and plopped down beside Ruth, her eyes flashing with anger. ‘‘Are you happy?’’ She folded her arms and leveled a steely gaze in Daughtie’s direction.
Daughtie tilted her head and gave Bella a playful smile. ‘‘You needn’t attempt to intimidate me, Arabella Newberry. I’ve known you far too long for such antics. Save it for the meeting.’’
Bella bit her lower lip. She didn’t want to smile; instead she-needed to gather courage from her anger in order to speak eloquently should the need arise this evening. And she was certain a strong argument would be needed for education to blossom in Lowell. Yet the issue wasn’t so much education as it was money—and reforming the present school system would take money—something near and dear to the hearts of those in opposition.