The Trainmasters Read online

  By the time the horses reached the near turn again, Emerald was ten lengths ahead. But Berber was still moving easily and smoothly.

  At the far turn, Emerald had maintained his lead, but Berber had lost no more ground. Their status was the same when the two horses passed the starting line for the second time. Vanderbilt saw then that Emerald was breathing hard and raggedly, but this didn’t surprise him. Nevertheless, he began to stamp his foot nervously.

  At the near turn, Berber had shortened Emerald’s lead to eight lengths. And along the straightaway he crawled up another two. At last, Fletcher was using his whip.

  Patterson was white with screaming. “Now you do it! Now! Now! At last! Please God you’re not too late.”

  “Give it to him! Trounce that mare,” Daniel Drew screamed at Emerald. “I have a hundred dollars on you!”

  Vanderbilt took another sip of whiskey. Except for the stamping of his foot, he looked calm and detached, but his hand gripped the glass like a vise. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the great, colorful balloon that had been carrying passengers up and down for most of the afternoon.

  “Berber! Berber!” Patterson yelled. “Come on! On!”

  By this time, Vanderbilt’s feet stamping had turned into a little, nervous jig. And he was muttering something that was audible only to himself.

  The horses were three lengths apart at the far turn.

  Then Cornelius Vanderbilt finally spoke out. “All right. Now! Give it to him, Berber, you bastard! Win!”

  And now the two horses were neck and neck … with an eighth of a mile to go.

  Berber crossed the finish line two and a half lengths ahead of Emerald.

  “Goddamn!” Vanderbilt hollered in triumph. “That is some extraordinary horse!”

  “The best. The very best!” Patterson screamed in reply, whooping like an Indian. “BERBER!” he continued, even louder than before, for the crowd below the veranda had gone wild. “You’ve done it, in spite of that ass of a jockey.”

  Daniel Drew, meanwhile, simply turned toward Vanderbilt and gave him a rueful wink.

  “That idiot,” Patterson went on, “no longer has a job with me.”

  After the tumult of the crowd died down enough for normal conversation, Vanderbilt spoke to Patterson. “You know, Will,” he said, “if I were you, I would not dismiss Fletcher, your jockey. “

  “What?”

  “You thought he ran a poor race?”

  “Yes!” Patterson said. “Absolutely. He very nearly lost.”

  “I’m not one to intrude in other people’s affairs,” Vanderbilt said. “And I certainly wouldn’t presume to tell you what to do…”

  Daniel Drew snorted at that and gave him another wink.

  “Dan’l, you know I’m telling the truth now.”

  To which Drew gave another snort. “My friend Vanderbilt never intrudes in the affairs of others,” he said to Patterson in a stage whisper, “unless those affairs interest him. If he is not interested in your affairs, Will, then you are safe from him.”

  “Would you let me continue please, Dan’l?” he asked in mock exasperation. And then he cocked his head and laughed. “Why don’t you shut your mouth and count your losses?”

  “What were you going to say about the jockey?” Patterson asked.

  “The jockey?”

  “You were going to tell me why I should not dismiss him,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

  “Oh, yes, certainly, now I remember what I was doing,” Vanderbilt said. “Dan’l Drew always does this to me. He leaves me in a state of utter bafflement and confusion.”

  “Bullshit,” Daniel Drew said.

  “But, about the jockey,” Vanderbilt continued. “He ran a superb race. A perfect race. His timing could not have been better.”

  “And yet he let Berber fall behind by as many as twelve lengths. If my horse had not had—”

  “That’s my point,” Vanderbilt broke in. “Your man Fletcher knew exactly what Berber had in him. And he timed the race to take that into account.”

  “You know he’s right, don’t you?” Daniel Drew said to Patterson. “He almost always is, the clever bastard.”

  “Well…” Patterson said doubtfully. “Perhaps.”

  “Come on, man,” Vanderbilt said, laughing, “you’ve won! Why the long face?”

  “You’re right, of course,” Patterson said, brightening, but with a visible effort. “I’ll keep Fletcher on, if you think I should.”

  “What I think makes no difference,” Vanderbilt said. “The boy won!” And then he turned his head a little; another man was walking up to them, one of the officers of the club. “And now I see it’s time for you to claim the rewards of your victory.”

  “Mr. Patterson,” the man said warmly, “congratulations. I’m so very delighted that the winner is one of our own.” Patterson nodded his thanks. “And now would you come with me, please, for the ceremony.”

  “By all means.” To Drew and Vanderbilt Patterson said, “You’ll excuse me, gentlemen?” And he started off.

  “Don’t mind my friend Vanderbilt, Will,” Daniel Drew said as Patterson was pulling away. “He drops shit democratically, on friends and enemies alike. I wouldn’t take anything he does personally, if I was you.”

  Cornelius Vanderbilt laughed one more time. “Dan’l,” he said, “I like the way you tell the truth. And so I’ll tell you a piece of truth in return: You owe me $100, my friend.”

  Drew smiled sadly, reached into his pocket, pulled out a wad of bills, and peeled off two fifties that he handed over to Vanderbilt.

  “It was almost worth it,” he said, “to see such a well-run race.”

  “I wonder if Patterson’s man Fletcher can handle trotters as well as he does flats,” Vanderbilt said, pocketing the money. “I just might hire the man, if he can.”

  During the ceremony, the two men returned to the table, sat down, and refilled their glasses.

  “So what do you think of Mr. William Patterson?” Daniel Drew asked Cornelius Vanderbilt.

  “I liked him well enough yesterday,” Vanderbilt said, “and at dinner last night. But I don’t like him so well today. He’s a man of limited intelligence. A smart man would not have acted so foolishly about that jockey. And he’s touchy, though with reason, maybe. He rightly feels that others treat him like a fool. And he’s worried. But about what, I don’t know.”

  “What shall we do about his railroad then?”

  “We’ll see whether there is money to be made. Obviously. The Pennsylvania is going to be a good investment someday. The question is when. And how long is the wait for the return.”

  “But is it now a good investment? Now that they are short of cash?”

  “That’s the question, isn’t it?”

  “And how weak are they?” Drew wondered.

  “That’s another question.”

  “But weakness does have its uses now and again.”

  “Yes, Dan’l,” he said, giving him a sharp look, “it does.”

  When William Patterson returned from the ceremony, he was ready to talk serious business.

  “I’m sure that after the various discussions at dinner last night, you two gentlemen are aware of the situation the Pennsylvania is in at this moment,” he said.

  “You need cash, or you don’t finish the work,” Daniel Drew said. “It’s that simple.”

  “Yes, I’m afraid it is that simple.”

  “So what are you proposing?” Vanderbilt asked.

  “We have issued sixty thousand shares of new stock,” Patterson said. “You could subscribe to that.”

  “From the tone of your voice, there are other alternatives,” Vanderbilt said.

  “There are.”

  “Please tell us about them.”

  “As you are probably aware, we have not had an easy time selling those shares.”

  “You’re right,” Drew said. “We know that.”

  “Mr. Edgar Thomson, the chief engineer
, will propose to the board of directors on Wednesday that since that is the case, we should go into the bond market for our capital needs.”

  “Yes,” Vanderbilt said, nodding his head. Issuing bonds was an obvious move.

  “I have in the past opposed such a step, believing that the railroad ought not to need to borrow.” He paused. “But now,” he continued, “I am about to reverse my position. I am going to go along with Mr. Thomson, and vote for the bonds.”

  “Why?” said Drew.

  “Why not?” said Vanderbilt. “I have nothing against bonds… if the company issuing them is sound.”

  “These will be sound,” Patterson said. “Secured by a mortgage on the line’s current property and equipment.”

  “And yet,” Drew persisted, “I would still like to know why you have changed your mind.”

  “I’m coming to that… shortly. But first I would like to tell you what I am proposing to you gentlemen.”

  Vanderbilt nodded his head and made a come-on gesture with his hand.

  “The board will authorize five million dollars worth of twenty-year bonds at six percent. What I would like to offer you is the opportunity to be the first subscribers. I believe that to have men of your stature and wealth at the top of the list will… encourage others to follow in your footsteps.”

  Daniel Drew grinned. “I’m beginning to see light.”

  “So how much do you want us to go in for?” Vanderbilt asked.

  “One million dollars apiece,” Patterson said.

  “Really?” Daniel Drew said cautiously.

  But Patterson held up his hand to stop him from continuing with his doubts. “Wait,” he said. “The total subscription will be payable in ten installments. And of course, since the two of you will be the first to purchase bonds, we are prepared to offer you a substantial discount from their par value.”

  “How much?” Vanderbilt said.

  “Ninety-six.”

  “Too much,” Vanderbilt said. “I’m not convinced that the Pennsylvania is a sound investment at all, stocks or bonds. Consequently, I would like you to sweeten the deal.”

  “You can do better than ninety-six,” Drew agreed. “Much better.”

  “Well, I don’t know…”

  “There are a lot of railroads building,” Vanderbilt said. ‘Too many, in my opinion. There will be more railroads than there are goods and passengers to carry.”

  “I have to disagree with you, Commodore,” Patterson said. “But be that as it may, the Pennsylvania is as sound as gold. However, since you would like to have my offer sweetened, what would be the ideal amount, in your opinion?”

  “I could do it for ninety-three,” Vanderbilt said instantly.

  “Oh, my, that little,” Patterson said, rubbing his chin. “We can’t have ninety-three, can we?” And then he paused for several long breaths. “Unless…” He stopped and left the thought suspended.

  “Yes,” Vanderbilt said. “Go on.” The man was a hard nut to crack, he thought, five parts shrewd and five parts imbecile. And it was almost impossible to tell which part had the upper hand at the moment. Could he do business with him?

  “I would like to return to Mr. Drew’s recent question about my reasons for changing my mind about the bonds.”

  “All right,” Drew said.

  “Well, it’s like this.” His tone became confidential and conspiratorial. “I require an influx of cash—a temporary influx of cash—in order to meet a minor, umm, difficulty.”

  Drew glanced at Vanderbilt, who was staring at the sky. But then he bent his head down so that his eyes could meet Patterson’s. “A difficulty?” he asked, drawing out the syllables.

  “A temporary shortfall,” he said with scarcely concealed nervousness.

  “I see,” Vanderbilt said. “And you would like our help in settling this difficulty… in addition to the help you hope we will give your railroad.”

  “Precisely.”

  “Then I think you had better tell us about it. Don’t you agree, Dan’l?”

  “Yep,” Daniel Drew said. “I guess I better know what it is.”

  “And I would also like to find out why you have come for help to people who are outside your normal circle of friends and who, indeed, come from another city.”

  “Well,” Patterson said, “I really cannot tell you the precise nature of my situation… except that discretion is, umm, vital. And thus, on account of the necessity for discretion, I must approach outsiders.”

  Daniel Drew smiled.

  “But since what I am asking for will be well secured, the precise nature of my needs should not be at issue.”

  “I see,” Vanderbilt said. “And what is the nature of your security?”

  “Shares of Pennsylvania stock.”

  Vanderbilt nodded. And Drew, a little later, also nodded, a bit more gravely.

  “And,” Patterson added hopefully, “if you are prepared to help me, I am prepared to see to it that the Pennsylvania bonds are made available to you at your asking price.”

  “At ninety-three?” Vanderbilt said.

  “Yes, at ninety-three.”

  “How much are you after?” Drew asked.

  Approximately $100,000.”

  “Ahh,” Vanderbilt said, and then looked at Drew, who gave him another wink.

  Vanderbilt abruptly rose from his chair and beckoned Drew to follow him. “Thank you, Mr. Patterson. I think I’ll be going. You have made a fascinating offer, and I will certainly consider it.”

  Patterson stood up along with them. “When can you let me know your decision?” He paused. “You are surely aware that I am engaged in a struggle for control of the Pennsylvania with Edgar Thomson. That struggle will be decided before the board of directors’ meeting this coming Wednesday. I will consequently require your answer before then.”

  “We will let you know well before your board meeting on Wednesday,” Vanderbilt said. “Dan’l, does that suit you?”

  “I will know my mind before then,” Daniel Drew said.

  FOUR

  Though she was a voluptuous young woman, Teresa O’Rahilly had taken painstaking care to disguise her beauty. She wore a dark gray cotton dress with a heavily starched white collar. It was a plain, almost drab dress, but it was so artfully cut that it left no doubt about the plenitude it covered. Her abundant reddish gold hair was wound into a tight bun and then partially concealed with a blue bonnet. And she had skillfully applied makeup to her peaches and cream complexion so that she would have a pale, somewhat wasted look. The accomplished effect was of a stunning young woman who was not at all overwhelmed by her own beauty, but who was very much down on her luck. She appeared neat and tidy, and although she was obviously hungry and struggling, she courageously refused to give in to adversity.

  One could tell by looking at her that she had nowhere left to turn…

  Sunday afternoon was drifting into evening when Teresa stationed herself not far from Sturdivant’s Hotel on Chestnut Street in a spot just behind the recessed entrance of a hat shop. In that partial concealment she watched those entering and leaving the hotel, searching for the kind of man who would be attracted to her. Teresa was tense and anxious, and fear gripped her stomach. She enjoyed setting up her snares, yet at the same time she found the anticipation frightening.

  This was not the first time Teresa O’Rahilly had thus positioned herself. Ten months earlier she had watched the men entering and leaving Sturdivant’s, and she waited until Samuel Fawkner made his appearance. Just from his looks, Teresa could tell he was the perfect man for her—late twenties or early thirties, well to do, vulnerable.

  Fawkner had actually turned out to be a widower of thirty-three. And he had fastened on Teresa as quickly as she’d desired and hoped. But then five months later, he’d found another woman, one he desired to take in marriage. He had consequently abandoned Teresa.

  Tearfully, she had said good-bye to Sam and picked up Ben Kean the following afternoon.

  Benjamin
Kean, however, turned out to be trouble, for he fell in love with Teresa and wanted to marry her.

  Teresa did not object to marriage. She would have welcomed marriage to the right man. And although Ben appeared to be an acceptable match for her—his father owned one of the largest transport wagon firms—he was much too ardent and possessive for Teresa. He wanted her, and he wanted her forever. Ben Kean was eager to dominate Teresa, to make her submit utterly to his will. Then, she was sure, he would hurt her. He wanted to see her cry out her submission to him. He wanted that cry to be a scream of infinite pain.

  Teresa saw the signs of emotional starvation in Ben Kean’s face. She knew he would never get enough of her. She could never satisfy him. And she didn’t actually like Ben Kean very much. So she fled from him.

  She had broken with Ben Kean only the week before. And now she was back in the hat shop entrance, waiting for a new man to fall for her. And support her.

  The man she finally settled on she estimated to be no older than twenty-four or twenty-five, which is to say not much older than the age Teresa claimed for herself, though she was actually nineteen. But he was extremely handsome, he was well dressed, and he had a vaguely foreign look that Teresa felt boded well. He had an intense yet wistful air about him that set Teresa O’Rahilly’s well-tuned antennae vibrating wildly; the man could possibly be one of those who would take care of her for weeks! or months’.

  He set off down Chestnut toward the waterfront. And Teresa followed him. When he reached Water Street, he turned north and strolled along casually, gazing at the ships docked along the Delaware River piers, pausing now and again to stare at one in particular which struck his fancy. He’d walked about half a mile, up to about Vine Street, when he paused, spotted a news vendor, and bought a paper. Then he looked around until he found a sunny place to sit and read the paper. Now and again he flung pieces of bread he had stowed in his pockets to seagulls. Soon, dozens of the birds were milling and squawking near him.

  While he was reading, Teresa approached him a little closer than she had previously allowed herself. She decided then that she liked his eyes. And his hands were long and fine but also hardened by wind and sun.