Time Out of Mind (76 page)
Authors: John R. Maxim
Tags: #Horror, #General, #Psychological, #Suspense, #Memory, #Thrillers, #Fiction, #Time Travel
“
That intelligence concerned Carling, not you.”
“
But still you did not use it.”
Tilden drew a breath. “All I wanted of Carling was that h
e leave New Y
ork b
efore I killed him.
as
it happened, he
left of his own accord.”
Gould did not dispute on whose account Carling had left.
“You could have hurt me with it. The fact that he duped
me with a false history could have cost me the confidence of some men and encouraged boldness in others. The fact
that he was actually a Jew named Koenig would have been
delicious to those who insist that I am a denied Jew myself.”
“
Extortion is Colonel Mann's field, Mr. Gould,” Tilden
answered. ”I do not care to compete in it. In any event,
I'm sure it would not have bothered you in the slightest.”
“
If you prick us, sir, do we not bleed?”
that I care a damn one way or the other.”
“
How do you know?”
“
My father told me.”
“
He told you what?” Gould raised a hand upon seeing
Tilden's impatience with this irrelevancy. “Please. Indulge
my curiosity on this and I will satisfy any of yours.”
He said,” Tilden answered with strained patience,
“that you come from Yankee Protestant stock. He said that
this Jewish business persists only because there is so little else that is vulnerable about you and because you encour
age it. He remarked that you are wise enough not to reward
such people with even a denial. Better to let them chew on
it, be distracted by it, he said.”
“
While I do what, exactly?”
“
My father's words or mine?”
”
I have an idea I'd like your father's better.”
“
He
...
appreciates you,” Tilden admitted, “though
with reservations. He has approximately the same attitude
toward Genghis Khan, Attila the Hun, and the entire British
nation.”
That I am a plunderer, you mean.” Gould seemed dis
appointed.
No.” Tilden softened. “He does admire your tenacity.
It is a quality I have observed in you myself.”
then burst from his chest. Tilden saw a spray of blood in
the handkerchief he held. Gould did not have the look of
a man who had time for much more mischief.
And you, Mr. Beckwith,” he gasped as he recovered,
“what do you think of me? I ask, not to invite an insult,
but to understand the mind of a man who would choose
me as an enemy without hope of gain.”
“
There actually are men who act out of decency, sir. My
father is one of them. I do my best to follow his example.”
Not in all things, it seems. He did not condemn me so
roundly as you do.”
“
No,” Tilden had to acknowledge. “In truth he did
not.”
He is quite a remarkable man,” Tilden's father had said
to him. “He has built a great fortune upon the single prem
ise that most other men are thieves at heart. He is not at
all like the other money-getters and manipulators. They are opportunists for the most part. They are raiders and profiteers. They attack and they withdraw. But Jay Gould keeps
coming with a dreadful and unshakable singleness of pur
pose, for he always has a plan that looks several moves
ahead, in the manner of a chess champion. The tenacity of
this feared and silent little man is his power, you see.
“
Imagine if the devil himself appeared in New York and stood on the sidewalk outside the exchange, staring at it by the hour, then at last letting his eyes grow narrow and per
mitting a smile to pull at the corners of his mouth. Why,
you'd have traders scrambling out the windows and running
for their lives up the hill toward Trinity Church. Jay Gould
has nearly the same effect. He has but to cast an interested
eye upon a business firm and its shareholders fall over each
other getting out of harm's way. When the timid have sold
enough shares and the price of the rest is low enough,
Gould buys control. Now it is the investors who sit and watch like vultures. Did Gould buy this company because
it is an inconvenience to his larger schemes and is therefore
to be destroyed? Or is it essential to his schemes and
therefore to be raised up? They watch the stock prices. If
they begin rising, those who would ride on Jay Gould's
coattails leap aboard and force them quickly higher. The
prudent ones take a decent profit and get out. The reckless
ones stay, confident that they can scurry for cover at the fir
st sign that Gould is setting another ambuscade tor them.
Gould, of course, is watching them as well. At the first
sign of caution he will lull them with good news through
some newspaper or politician he controls. When their guard:
is down, when they begin buying all the more heavily, he
will knock out the pins and catch them all. I see little evil
in this, Tilden, because the victims all know the game they are in and are most often defeated by their own greed. And
yet they groan and tear their hair and rail against this ‘silent
little Jew’ and his trickery.”
“
It is said of me”—Jay Gould stopped at the door of
his immense greenhouse—“that I see all men and their
works as my lawful prey. It is said that I see good in no
one. That kindness, loyalty, honesty, and all the other vir
tues are foreign to me. In my heart, Tilden Beckwith, I
believe this not to be true. But I have chosen, upon hard lessons, to live my life with the certain knowledge that any
man I trust will turn and feed on me sooner or later. I am not often disappointed. This Ansel Carling business came
as no great disillusionment.”
“
It is true that he's dead, by the way?”
afraid he will haunt you far longer than me. If you had
used that intelligence of Colonel Mann's, you are quite cor
rect that it would not have bothered me. But I would, have turned it on you. I would have caused it to be widely known
that your little boy, the one you named Huntington, is not
a Beckwith at all but the son of a Jewish former convict,
swindler, and assassin named Asa Koenig.” ·
lied to you, of course. He tried to sell it to me first. I'd have no part of it.”
“
What is it you want, then?”
Come.” He opened the door at one end of the green
house. ”I will show you something very beautiful.”
Lyndhurst, was fully three times the size of the largest he
had ever seen before. It was warmed to a tropical climate
by a series of copper stoves upon which kettles of water
simmered, causing a mist of fine rain to hang in the air.
here were orchids everywhere. Thousands of them.
It is where I find peace,” Gould whispered as if in a church. “When the sun is right, you can see a rainbow in
here.” He pinched a withered leaf off a nearby plant and touched the wound gently with his fingertips. ”I have de
veloped several new varieties, you know. The Horticultural
Society has given my name to two thus far, and to a new
rose as well.”
Tilden wondered if his family received such affection.
“Where is your family, by the way?” he asked, remem
bering the empty house, which had seemed so ominous.
“
On my yacht,” Gould answered absently, “taking the
sea air.” He saw an ant on the labellum of one of his prize
lady's slippers. He brushed it off.
“
And your servants? I saw no butler.”
smiled. “There is no butler here, Mr. Beckwith. Nor are
there liveried footmen standing at every door with doubtful
coats of arms etched on their buttons. I have no interest in
that foolishness. There are two cooks and two maids here
at Lyndhurst, and perhaps a dozen groundskeepers and gar
deners. That is all.”
“
And your bodyguards.”
“
And my bodyguards,” Gould acknowledged. “They
are also companions. Have you ever tried to converse with
a butler? Men of business are even worse. They choose
their words so carefully, even on superficial matters. Ask
one of them the time of day and he'll wonder what design is behind your question.”
Probably with good reason, Tilden thought. Gould was attempting to relax him, although he did not know
how the man could hope for it in view of the language of
the note he'd sent.
Your harlot mistress. Your hidden son.
Comstock.
come see me,” he said slowly. ”I thought it best to use
language you could not ignore. There was a reference to
the lady, Margaret—Charlotte, if you prefer—for which I
apologize most abjectly now that you are here.”
But Comstock
is
in Greenwich by your hand?’' Tilden
asked darkly.
Gould shook his head. “That too was an artifice. The
culprit is a retired tart named Belle Walker. It seems the
presence of another like her caused her some discomfort
and she wrote a letter which I think will be her own un
doing. Your Margaret has no serious cause for concern in this instance. In any case, Mr. Comstock will soon be tak
ing his leave. I happen to know that his crusade is about
to be energetically discouraged by your old friend, Inspec
tor Williams.”
knowledge and all the more doubtful of his claimed dis
association.
“
No,” Gould said, smiling, “nor am I the agent of Corn
stock’s departure. You have none other than Mrs. Williams
to thank for that.”
“
Clubber's wife?” Tilden nearly returned the smile.
“
She's not another tart, if that's what you're wondering. Comstock made the mistake of accosting her on the street
and taking her photograph.”
home and share this news with Margaret. She would be
greatly relieved, Laura Hemmings as well, although both of them feigned unconcern in his presence. But the grin
faded as he considered that Jay Gould had not learned so much without purpose.
“
Are you about to say what you want of me, Mr.
Gould?”
It is as before,” he said directly. ”I want you to with
draw your support from Cyrus Field.”
coming, don't you, Mr. Gould?”
“
This is important to me.”
“
For God's sake, how? Haven't you found enough joy
in knowing that a pissant like you could utterly shatter the
health and fortune of a giant like Cyrus Field?”
”
I took no joy in that. It was business.”
“
Mr. Field is a businessman. You are a pirate. Mr. Field builds up. You tear down. The laying of the Atlantic cable
made him wealthy, but there was a much greater risk that
it would have broken him. You would not have taken that
risk. You would have bought your way in when the terms
were most favorable and then you would have plundered it
just as you sought to plunder his New York Elevated.”