City of God (37 page)

Carolina touched her son’s knee but quickly withdrew her hand. At eleven, a student at the Trinity School on Grand Street, Zac did not permit outward signs of maternal affection. Her pride was nonetheless apparent. He was almost as tall as she, but dark like his father. And sitting upright beside her, staring straight at the lawyer.
Look a man in the eye when you do business with him, son. That’s the way to get on. That’s how your grandpa’s always done it and so should you.
Zac would miss Papa even more than she would. Certainly he’d been the strongest male influence the boy had known. Zac liked Nick, of course, always had, but it wouldn’t be the same.

“Can we please get this done with?” Sam said. “I’ve other things to see to.”

“Yes, Mr. Devrey. As you wish. As I said, shortly before he died, Wilbur Randolf made a new will. He was at my office and signed it the very day of his demise.”

“And the terms of this new will are?”

James picked up the document and read aloud. “I leave absolutely nothing to my beloved daughter Carolina, not because—”

“But that’s absurd!”

“I assure you it is not, Mr. Devrey.” Then, reading again, “…not because of any lack of affection, for indeed she is as she has always been the great joy and consolation of my life. However, she made a poor choice of husband, and to my everlasting sorrow I did not override her decision. It is unthinkable to me that my son-in-law Samuel Devrey should in any way profit from the marriage vows he has so flagrantly violated. I therefore leave everything I possess to my beloved grandson, Zachary Devrey.” James couldn’t help himself. He paused for full dramatic effect. That’s got him, Wilbur, he thought. His face is as white as his stock. You’d have been delighted.

Sam took only a few seconds to get his breath back. “That doesn’t seem to change much,” he said. “Zachary is a minor and I am his father. I will of course oversee his affairs until he reaches his majority.”

“No, Mr. Devrey. You will not. Mr. Randolf expressly forbade that.” James looked again at the copy of the will and read, “Everything I own is to be placed in trust and held for Zachary until he reaches the age of twenty-one. The sole trustee is to be his mother, my daughter Carolina Randolf Devrey.” The lawyer raised his eyes. No one said anything, but Devrey’s face had gone from white to bright red. “Your father has also decreed, my dear Carolina, that for the duty of oversight which he lays upon you, the trust is to pay you a salary of three thousand a year. You will not therefore be in any way dependent on your husband for the ordinary expenses of your daily life.”

The lawyer stared at Devrey. Sam stared back, but it wasn’t Gordon James who was on his mind.
A pox on your black soul, Wilbur Randolf. May you rot in hell. But the Hakka pirates couldn’t outwit me, and neither shall you. Once my ship sails, I won’t need a penny of your poxed estate.
“Fair enough,” Sam said. “I’m glad to hear my wife is to have a decent income of her own, since I require that she and the children vacate the Fourteenth Street house within twenty-four hours.”

“Samuel, we can’t. The children—” Then, seeing that he stared straight ahead and refused to look at her, “Very well, but if we must go, surely you can give us more time, Samuel.”

“No, I cannot. Under the terms of the marriage settlement the house is yours on your father’s death. Acting as your husband, I now demand vacant possession. That is my right under the law, is it not, Mr. James?”

“Indeed it is, Mr. Devrey. Except for one thing.”

“Which is?”

“Before he died, Mr. Randolf arranged the sale of the house. That right remained his. Also a matter of the terms of the marriage settlement, as I’m sure you know.”

“And it was sold to whom?” The ice was now firmly lodged in Sam’s belly, spreading its cold through every part of him. He could feel it reaching his heart and taking bitter hold.

“The Fourteenth Street house was sold to Master Zachary Devrey, who paid the sum of one dollar. That is correct, young man, is it not?”

“Yes, sir, it is.” If he’d known that grandpa was really going to die he’d never have agreed. He’d have made him take it back. But he knew Grandpa did it because Papa was so mean to Mama and didn’t deserve to have any hold over her. Not over him or Ceci either. The boy’s chin came up. “It’s exactly how we did it, sir. I bought the house from my grandfather for a dollar.”

“Indeed you did, young Master Devrey. And it has now been made part of your trust, which your dear mama will oversee until you are twenty-one.” He looked directly at Sam. “I myself filed the transfer of ownership at the registry of deeds yesterday.”

“I
T IS GOOD
of you to receive me, Mrs. Devrey.”

“Not at all, Mr. Belmont. It is good of you to come.” Carolina poured her visitor a small glass of sherry as she spoke. There had been a good many visitors making condolence calls these past weeks. Presumably that was the motive of this visit as well, though she’d not known that her father had business with August Belmont.

“I suspect you may not—” He broke off and nodded his thanks when she handed him the wine.

“May not what, Mr. Belmont?”

“May not be entirely pleased with what I have come about.”

“I see. Well, in that case let us sit down and you can tell me what that is. I always prefer bad news in as direct a fashion as possible.”

“I don’t mean to convey the wrong impression, madam, and I realize you are in mourning. But I had some business dealings with your husband a short time past, right after the passing of your late father, as it happens. I thought Mr. Devrey might be here.”

“I assure you he is not.” Carolina took a small sip of her drink and studied her caller over the rim of the glass. Short, a square sort of body
and an equally square face below an already much receded hairline, though she’d heard he was still in his twenties. Not yet married, and said to be exceptionally clever. No doubt he was. How else would he be so rich so young? It followed that Mr. Belmont knew as well as everyone in the town not only that Sam Devrey hadn’t lived with his wife for years, but also the unusual terms of Wilbur Randolf’s will. “Perhaps you would care to tell me whatever it is you intended to tell my husband, Mr. Belmont.”

“Very well, perhaps that would be best. Three weeks ago I made a substantial loan to your husband. I took as security the deeds to two properties on Cherry Street, numbers—”

“Thirty-seven and thirty-nine,” Carolina supplied. “I know the buildings.”

“Yes, I thought you would. You will then know as well that their combined value is perhaps twenty-five thousand dollars. That did not collateralize the full loan, Mrs. Devrey. This house was to provide the balance of the security. Mr. Devrey naturally enough presumed it would come to you on the death of your father. And that as your husband, of course he could…”

Belmont allowed the words to trail away. He obviously felt it unnecessary to spell out the extent of a husband’s control of his wife’s property. A horrid law, Carolina thought. Women should rise up and insist it be changed. “Of course,” she agreed. “But I am sure, Mr. Belmont, that you’ve been apprised of the terms of my late father’s will. Nothing whatever has come to me. Everything has gone into trust for my son, Zachary. Including, as it happens, this house, which my father before his death sold to his grandson.”

“For the sum of one dollar. An excellent bargain.”

“Indeed. What then is the purpose of your visit, Mr. Belmont?”

“I understand you are the sole trustee of your son’s estate.” She nodded and Belmont continued, “I am also told that you are a clever and accomplished woman and that already you are taking steps to both guard and increase the fortune that has been left to the young heir.”

“If you mean that I am selling the leather interests and holding the property, that is, I presume, public knowledge on Wall Street.”

“It is, madam. Which is why I’ve come here today to ask if you wish to retire your husband’s loan.”

In a million years he could not seriously think she would pay Sam Devrey’s debts. All New York knew she would not. Neither for love nor duty. “That is always a possibility, Mr. Belmont. Though, frankly, one that is remote. However, if we’re to discuss it further, shouldn’t you tell me the exact amount involved?”

“With interest, madam, I am owed seventy-two thousand dollars.”

“A great deal of money, and scant collateral. They tell me you are a man of uncommon astuteness, Mr. Belmont. So perhaps you will tell me why you made such a loan.”

Belmont had merely toyed with his sherry thus far. Now he drained the glass, refused the offer of a refill, and sat forward. A ray of weak winter sun wreathed his almost bald head, rather like a halo, Carolina thought. But she did not mistake him for an angel.

“Your husband, Mrs. Devrey, is John Jacob Astor’s man. And Mr. Astor, despite his eighty years, remains a force to be reckoned with.”

“The Astor fortune, Mr. Belmont, will always be a force to be reckoned with. Mr. Astor’s son, Mr. William Backhouse Astor, can be relied upon to see that continues to be true. I do not, however, see what that has to do with me.”

“I believe it has a great deal to do with you, madam. Because it is my belief that you mean the future Mr. Zachary Devrey also to be a force to be reckoned with.”

Carolina smiled. “Pray continue, Mr. Belmont.”

“I am sure it will not surprise you to learn that having made a not inconsequential loan to your husband, I made it my business to discover why he needed so much money so quickly.”

“I am not surprised in the least.”

“Apparently, Mrs. Devrey, your husband has embarked on a venture in shipbuilding. It’s meant to be secret, but I have it on good authority that a new keel is already on the ways at a yard some distance from the town.”

“Parker’s auxiliary yard at Thirty-fourth Street,” she said at once, making the rapid calculation that he probably already knew, and if he did not, it mattered more that she be seen as knowledgeable. “It has to be Parker’s. They have been Devrey’s shipwrights for generations.”

“You are correct about the yard, but this ship is commissioned not by Devrey Shipping but by Samuel Devrey personally. That much I know, and it is what I find so interesting about the undertaking. I was, however, able to learn little about the ship itself. She is, as I said, being built under terms of strict secrecy. In any case, shipping, or more precisely the building of ships, is not my line of country, Mrs. Devrey. But seeing as how, given the name he bears, it is likely to be in some manner your son’s…”

Belmont shrugged and once more seemed to count on her divining the rest of his sentence. A business technique, Carolina realized, a way of never saying more than he meant to. “Please tell me exactly what you are proposing, Mr. Belmont. I am, after all merely a woman. You must realize that such matters as these are not always entirely clear to me.” I can bat my eyes at you, Mr. August Belmont, as well as any debutante you meet at a ball, and were I not wearing this dreadful high-necked black mourning frock I should lean forward and give you a good look down my bosom.

Belmont glanced at the clock on the mantel. “If that timepiece is correct, Mrs. Devrey, your husband’s debt comes due in precisely four minutes.” He removed two documents from the inside pocket of his frock coat. “At that time I am free to sell these two properties.”

Good God! She’d expected Belmont to say he was the owner of the properties and in return for something—she wasn’t sure what—he would turn out her husband’s mistress and his bastard child and to all intents and purposes Samuel himself. A joy indeed. But that she might be able to do it herself…The surge of pleasure was so exquisite it made her palms tingle; Carolina had to fold her hands primly in her lap to keep them from trembling. “How much are you asking for those houses,
Mr. Belmont? Presuming, of course, the debt to you is not paid in the next four minutes.”

“Three minutes now,” Belmont said, glancing again at the clock. “I will take the princely sum of one dollar each, madam. Exactly as was paid by your son for this house.”

“Why?”

“If I say for the love of mankind and concern for a newly bereaved daughter and grandson you are, I expect, unlikely to believe me.”

“Entirely unlikely, Mr. Belmont.”

“Very well, I am offering you the Cherry Street houses in return for two dollars, and ownership of the instrument of your husband’s debt for thirty thousand more. Plus a twenty percent interest in this mysterious ship being built at Mr. Parker’s yard.”

“Please explain exactly what that means. Not the deeds, Mr. Belmont. I understand about the deeds.” She would immediately sell both houses to Zachary and make them part of the trust. “As for the ship, I may be only a woman, but I know investors take a part interest in ships every day of the week.” But for that to matter to her, first she must own one. There were intricacies here that could defeat her if she were not careful. “I need to understand the matter of my husband’s debt.”

“It’s quite straightforward, madam. Here is the note your husband signed.” Another piece of paper appeared on the table in front of Belmont. “I propose to sell it to you. In financial circles you would be said to have bought the paper that indicates Mr. Devrey’s indebtedness. Of course it is not the paper that matters, only that by owning the paper you own the claim. Mr. Devrey would then owe, not to me but to you, seventy-two thousand dollars, less whatever you may realize from the sale of the two houses on Cherry Street.”

“If I chose to sell them.”

“Yes, of course. If you chose to sell them.”

It had to be a truly extraordinary ship. Samuel would not otherwise have incurred such an enormous debt, and August Belmont would not be paying such a high price for an interest in it. “You say you know nothing
of the vessel Danny Parker is presumably building for my husband, yet you are prepared to cancel a substantial debt for less than half of what you’re owed, plus ownership of a fifth part of this same mysterious ship. May I ask why that is, Mr. Belmont?”

“Money, Mrs. Devrey. The entire waterfront is buzzing with stories of new sorts of oceangoing clippers being built at a few of the yards. Some say they’re going to revolutionize the China trade.”

“And what do others say, Mr. Belmont?”

“That the entire scheme is madness and these new ships will go to the bottom on their maiden voyages. But,” he said, leaning forward again and looking directly at her (as if she were a man, Carolina thought), “I, Mrs. Devrey, believe it worth a gamble to have a piece of such a ship. If for no other reason than that I’ve no doubt Astor will, whether it’s the son William or the father Jacob. I do not choose to be completely out of any game my competitors are playing.”

Carolina took a long breath. “One more question, Mr. Belmont. If indeed I buy this paper as you propose…Can a husband be legally indebted to his wife in that way?”

Belmont smiled. “Frankly, I don’t know, but I doubt it. However, I do not believe that to be your interest in this matter. And I do not think it will require a court to get you what you want once you are in possession of such weapons.”

The narrow stairs were not well lit. Carolina drew her skirts closer as she climbed. Thirty-nine was the building the whore lived in. Nick had told her so, though he’d taken a good deal of persuading.

I do not like it, Carolina. Not any part of it. You are independent of him now. Zachary’s birthright is protected, at least on his maternal side. Why should you seek revenge? It is beneath you, my dearest. And frankly, Mei-hua doesn’t deserve it. None of this is her doing.

Very well, Carolina thought, but lord knows, it was all Samuel Devrey’s doing. How could Nick understand? How could he have any idea of the extent to which her husband had shamed and degraded her? Though
sometimes she thought he suspected that it was fear rather than morality that made her refuse to allow him to become her lover. Terror that Nick would take her in his arms and she would see not his face but Samuel’s, and that his caresses would feel like the stinging pain of a riding crop.

The top floor of number thirty-nine, Nick had said at last.

She lives there with the old servant, the one you saw the night of the fire. Ah Chee she’s called. The little girl as well. Her name is Mei Lin, she’s almost nine. And Samuel? Carolina asked. Samuel also, Nick confirmed. At least so I believe.

The fourth-floor door was in front of her. Carolina took a moment to compose herself, then she lifted her hand and knocked.

Mei-hua half-rose from her chair and stretched her neck to see over Ah Chee’s shoulder. She had expected the knock to announce one or other of the men. They did not disturb the
tai-tai
frequently, but sometimes they had business of some sort with the lord.

It was the big ugly yellow hair. The concubine. Mei-hua saw the top of the yellow hair’s head over Ah Chee’s gray one when Ah Chee opened the door. Surprise brought her all the way to her feet, then she realized what a loss of dignity it would be to stand in the big ugly’s presence and sat down. Good thing she was sitting in the throne chair. Good thing the gilt canopy was over her head. Good thing she was protected either side by the dragon-claw arms. Never mind that she was holding them so tight her fingers hurt.

She was supreme lady
tai-tai
. The big ugly yellow hair was concubine. Her lord had told her so. “Tell her she is too late,” she said. Ah Chee did not turn around or otherwise acknowledge the command. She was speaking to yellow hair in the strangle-sound words of this place, and they seemed to have stopped her ears. Mei-hua spoke again. At the top of her voice this time, to be sure Ah Chee would hear. “Tell her a concubine comes to pay her respect to supreme lady
tai-tai
before she goes to the husband’s bed. Not good to come so long after. Tell her supreme lady will not receive her and she must go away.”