The Lincoln Myth (23 page)

No. More hurt.

Waves of doubt flowed through her.

So she told herself to stay alert.

No telling what was about to happen.

M
ALONE STOOD OUTSIDE THE HALL, LISTENING TO THE
bidding on other items, taking inventory. About fifty people filled the chairs that faced a small stage. The room was aglow from gold carvings,
gilded walls, and the enormous tile stove that filled one corner. Red marble dominated the twisted columns. A rich coffered ceiling was adorned with gold buttons that twinkled like stars. Princes had once entertained here, and now it was a tourist attraction and rental space.

He’d spotted Salazar and Cassiopeia, sitting near the front, both focused on the auctioneer, who was accepting bids on a porcelain vase. He studied the catalog. The Book of Mormon was three items away.

He checked his phone.

A message from Stephanie indicated that the money had been transferred and more would be added, if needed.

He smiled.

Never a bad thing to have the president of the United States as your banker.

S
ALAZAR WAS BECOMING ANXIOUS
. A
LL OF HIS LIFE HE’D
dreamed of holding something that perhaps the Prophet Joseph himself may have touched. He knew the drama involved when the first 5,000 copies of the Book of Mormon were printed. For a small shop in upstate New York, the task had been enormous. It had required eight months to produce the nearly three million pages needed for the complete first edition. On March 26, 1830, the books finally went on sale. Initially they sold for $1.75 but because of poor response the price was dropped to $1.25. An early Saint, Martin Harris, eventually sold 150 acres of his farm and raised the $3,000 owed the printer.

“Thou shalt not covet thine own property, but impart it freely to the printing. That is what Elder Harris was told,”
the angel said inside his head.
“His sacrifice made it all possible.”

Eleven days after the book was available for sale, believers in the word met in Fayette, New York, and legally organized what eight
years later was renamed the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

“This is your moment, Josepe. The prophets are watching. You are their Danite, the one who understands what is at stake.”

He’d come to claim his prize.

And not just one.

He desired the book
and
Cassiopeia. The more he was around her, the more he wanted her.

He could not deny it.

Nor did he want to.

THIRTY-ONE

W
ASHINGTON
, D.C.

S
TEPHANIE NIBBLED AT THE BREAKFAST THE STAFF HAD SERVED
her and the president. She wasn’t particularly hungry, but the food offered her time to think. She’d been around long enough to know the lay of the land. Some of the games she was forced to play were silly. A few nonsensical. Others bothersome or a nuisance. Then there was the real thing.

“Edwin and I have been working this for over a year,” Daniels said. “Just the two of us, with a little help from the Secret Service. But things are escalating. When Rowan moved on you, we knew what he wanted.”

She laid down her fork.

“You don’t like the eggs?”

“Actually, I hate eggs.”

“It’s not that bad, Stephanie.”

“You’re not the one facing a congressional inquiry—which, apparently, you knew was coming.”

Daniels shook his head. “I was only hoping it would, but I didn’t know.”

“Hoping?”

Daniels shoved his plate aside. “Actually, I’m not all that fond of eggs, either.”

“Then why are we eating them?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I just told them to fix some food. This isn’t easy.”

“And why are we here, as opposed to your office?”

“Too many eyes and ears there.”

A strange response, but she let it go.

“You realize,” he said, “that Mary Todd Lincoln was probably a manic depressive.”

“She was a sad woman who lost nearly everything dear to her. It’s amazing she didn’t lose her mind completely.”

“Her surviving son, Robert, thought she had. He committed her.”

“And she managed to legally reverse that decision.”

“That she did. Then, not long after that, she sent Ulysses Grant a letter. Why in the world would she do that?”

“Apparently she wasn’t as crazy as history wants her to be. Grant not only kept what she sent, he classified it. There have been a lot of presidents since 1876. Why are you the first one to be concerned about this?”

“I’m not.”

Now she was interested.

“There are indications that both Roosevelts looked into it, along with Nixon.”

“Why am I not surprised.”

Daniels chuckled. “I thought the same thing. Nixon had two Mormons in his cabinet. He liked the church and the way it thought. He courted them in 1960, ’68, and ’72. In July 1970 he visited Salt Lake City and met with the prophet and twelve apostles. A thirty-minute, off-the-record discussion, behind closed doors. A bit unprecedented for a president, don’t you think?”

“So why did he do it?”

“ ’Cause I imagine ol’ Tricky Dick wanted to know if what Mary Todd Lincoln wrote was right. Did the Mormons still have what Abraham Lincoln gave them?”

“And what did he find out?”

“We’ll never know. Everybody there that day, save one, is dead.”

“Seems like you need to talk to that one.”

“I intend to do just that.” He pointed at Madison’s message. “Thank goodness we found that, or we wouldn’t even know to ask or look.”

Her gaze wandered the room and settled on a portrait of John Adams, the first person to serve as vice president. “You need to get to the point, Danny.”

The use of his first name signaled how irritated she truly was with him.

“I like it when you say my name.”

“I like it when you’re straightforward.” She paused. “Which is a rarity, by the way.”

“I just wanted to finish out my eight years,” he quietly said. “The last few months should have been peaceful. God knows we’ve had enough excitement. But Thaddeus Rowan had other ideas.”

She waited for more.

“He’s been trying for over a year to access certain classified files. Things his security clearance doesn’t even get close to allowing. He’s pressured the CIA, FBI, NSA, even a couple of White House staffers. The man’s been around and knows how to throw his weight. So far, he’s been moderately successful. Now he’s focused on you.”

She understood. “So I’m to be the bait?”

“Why not? You and I understand each other. Together, we can solve this.”

“Looks like
we
don’t have a choice.”

“That’s the thing I’m going to miss most about this job. People are once again going to have choices when it comes to me.”

She smiled. He was impossible.

“I actually wanted to bring you in earlier, but I’m glad I didn’t. Now that Rowan himself has focused on you, it’s perfect. He’ll never see it coming and, if he does, he wants this so bad he’ll take a chance.”

“What exactly do you want me to do?”

He pointed again at Madison’s note. “First, find whatever it is
Madison left at Montpelier. I don’t want you to do it personally, though. Do you have an agent you can trust?”

“I do. He should be back here, in Washington, right now.”

She stared at him long enough that he understood.

“Can Luke handle this?” he asked.

“He’s good, Danny.”

“Okay, let him handle it. But God help him if he screws this up. I’m bettin’ the farm on that wild boy.”

“Seems like Luke’s not the only one in the firing line.”

“You’re a pro, Stephanie. You can handle this. I
need
you to handle this. I’m also going to want you to meet with Rowan and gain his trust.”

“And why in the world would he ever trust me?”

“Tell him you can’t respond to his subpoena. To do so would end your career. But you get why you were served. No one would ever respond to such a sweeping request without a fight or a compromise. Obviously, he wants something. So ask him what it is, then make a deal.”

“Again, there’s no way he’s going to buy that.”

“Actually, he will. Last evening we leaked through secured channels that your job is on the line.”

She was civil service, not a political appointee, and worked for the attorney general. Once Daniels’ term ended and a new AG was appointed by the next president, though she would not be fired, she could be reassigned. So far, she’d survived several changes in administrations and had many times wondered when her luck would run out.

“And why is my job in jeopardy?”

“You’ve been stealing.”

Had she heard right?

“From your discretionary account, the money used for your covert operations. I’m told, on any given day, there’s several million dollars at your personal disposal, not subject to any regular GAO audit. Unfortunately, information has come to us that that around $500,000 is unaccounted for.”

“And how did this information come your way?”

“That would be classified,” Daniels said. “But you’re going to tell Rowan that you have a problem, one his subpoena may draw attention to. Ask him what you can do to make it go away.”

“Why would he believe me?”

“Because you actually have been stealing, and I have the records to prove it.”

THIRTY-TWO

S
ALZBURG

S
ALAZAR WAS READY
.

He told himself to calm down, be patient.

“Our next item,” the auctioneer said, “is an original Book of Mormon, bearing the Palmyra, New York, identification and the statement,
printed by E. B. Grandin, for the author, 1830
. Its provenance is detailed in the catalog, verified by experts. A rare find.”

Fair market value was 150,000 euros, give or take a few thousand. He doubted anyone here possessed the resources to outbid him as, so far, items had sold for only modest amounts. But he’d learned not to underestimate the zeal of collectors.

“The opening bid is one hundred thousand euros,” the auctioneer said. “We will work off increments of one thousand euros.”

That was common for a Dorotheum sale. The house generally started things rolling. If no one bid that amount, the item was returned to its owner. If no house floor was proffered, that meant the highest bid won, no matter what that might be.