J. A. Johnstone & William W. Johnstone Read online

  “I have heard of him, yes.”

  “I would be glad to ask him to extend the invitation for you to stay with him as well. I’m sure he would welcome you.”

  “Thank you, but I have already wired ahead to the Willard,” Falcon said. “I’ll be staying there.”

  “I have stayed at the Willard,” Custer said. “It is a fine hotel and you will be very comfortable there.”

  The two men hailed cabs, one going one way, and the other, the opposite. “I’m sure we’ll see each other again while we are here,” Custer called back to Falcon as his cab drew away.

  Falcon smiled. He hoped it wouldn’t be too soon. He believed that Custer had more to talk about than anyone he had met.

  According to author Nathaniel Hawthorne, the Capitol, White House, and State Department ranked behind the Willard Hotel as the center of Washington. It had its beginning in 1847 when Henry and Edwin Willard first set up as innkeepers on the corner of 14th Street and Pennsylvania Avenue. In 1853, the brothers purchased the entire row of adjoining houses, uniting them architecturally in a major remodeling. Presidents Taylor, Fillmore, Pierce, Buchanan, Lincoln, and Grant had stayed at the Willard, and it was Grant who coined the term “lobbyist” because so many representatives of special interest groups would camp out in the lobby of the hotel in order to approach Grant with their petition.

  In addition to presidents and statesmen, other famous people had stayed at the hotel, including Charles Dickens, Buffalo Bill Cody, and Falcon’s father, James Ian MacCallister.

  Falcon read about the history of the hotel on a small brochure that lay on the bedside table. He smiled, as he read the part about his father.

  Jamie Ian MacCallister, pioneer, trailblazer, scout, and hero of the Alamo made our hotel home while he was in Washington. Songs, articles, books, and plays have been written about this legendary figure.

  Chapter Six

  April 28, 1876

  Washington, D.C., Office of the Secretary of War

  “I’m sorry, Mr. MacCallister, Secretary Taft isn’t here at the present time. He is attending the Clymer hearings,” Taft’s clerk said when Falcon presented himself at Taft’s office. “He sends his regards, sir, and says that he will meet with you tomorrow.”

  “Are the hearings closed?” Falcon asked.

  “They are actually, but would you like to attend?”

  “I think I would, yes,” Falcon replied.

  The clerk wrote something on a piece of paper, then handed it to Falcon. “Present this at the door,” he said.

  Office of the Secretary of War

  Please admit Falcon MacCallister to the hearings.

  For the Secretary,

  Jason Mulgrave

  Falcon was admitted to the hearing room without question, and when he took his seat, Custer was already testifying.

  “General, I know that after your first appearance, we dismissed you so you could return to your regiment. I appreciate your willingness to appear before this committee a second time,” Congressman Hiester Clymer said. “And I’m certain that your testimony will be full and truthful.”

  “It will be, sir,” Custer replied.

  “Mr. Chairman, let the record show that Colonel Custer did not return voluntarily, but was summoned to reappear,” Republican Congressman William Baker of New York said.

  “Is that a significant point?” Clymer asked.

  “It is, sir,” Baker replied. “You spoke of Custer’s willingness to appear as if his appearance was voluntary. Nothing could be further from the truth. As I stated, he had left Washington and had to be brought back by summons.”

  “Congressman, I left Washington because General Sherman had authorized my release,” Custer said. “I would point out to you, sir, that I returned immediately upon being summoned. It isn’t as if I had been brought here under arrest.”

  “Though it would have been within the committee’s right to force you to return had it been necessary,” Baker insisted. “And I’m quite sure you were aware of that.”

  “Had it been necessary,” Custer repeated. “But it wasn’t, was it?”

  Clymer banged the hammer on the table. “Gentlemen, gentlemen, please. Let us proceed,” he said.

  Custer reached for a pitcher of water and poured himself a glass as he waited for the first question.

  “General, when we spoke in camera, you shared a vignette with me about an incident that happened at Ft. Lincoln,” Clymer said. “I wonder if you could share that with the committee.”

  “Yes, sir, I would be glad to,” Custer replied. “Because the post trader was charging soldiers so much money just for the bare necessities, I and some of the officers of the Seventh pooled our resources and bought goods from suppliers in Bismarck. We could get a soldier’s needs for almost half of what the post trader charged, and we sold it to the men at cost. But Secretary Belknap sent direct orders prohibiting us from doing that, saying that members of the military could buy only from the post trader.”

  “Colonel Custer,” Baker said, purposely eschewing the use of his brevet rank. “Isn’t this order designed to specifically prohibit civilian merchants from taking advantage of the soldier?”

  “Meaning it is better for the post sutler to take advantage of the soldier?” Custer responded.

  “Mr. Chairman, I request that you inform the witness that he is to show proper respect to the members of this committee, or face contempt of congress charges,” Baker said.

  “General, you will be respectful at all times, sir,” Clymer instructed Custer.

  “I beg your pardon, gentlemen of the committee,” Custer said. “I meant no disrespect. It was merely my—admittedly awkward—attempt to explain the situation. I apologize.”

  “Apology accepted,” Clymer replied.

  Later, the discussion turned to arms, and Custer complained that while his troops were equipped with old, single shot weapons, the Indians were being sold repeating rifles.

  “Are you saying, General, that the United States Army is not being supplied with the finest weapons available?” Democrat Congressman Davis of West Virgina asked.

  “That is exactly what I’m saying, Congressman,” Custer replied.

  “May I ask the colonel what is wrong with the weapons your soldiers are carrying?” Baker asked.

  It did not escape Falcon’s notice that those congressman who were supporting Belknap addressed Custer by his actual rank, lieutenant colonel, whereas those who were supporting Custer’s charges addressed him by his brevet rank, general.

  “In comparison to the newest, repeating rifles, Congressman Baker, the shortfalls are almost too numerous to mention,” Custer said. “But I will tell you the most egregious fault.”

  Custer took a shell and a bent nail from his pocket and held them up for all to see. “This, gentlemen, is the biggest problem with the Sharps Carbine.”

  “I don’t understand, Colonel,” Baker said. “What are you telling us?”

  “This is a forty-five-caliber cartridge,” Custer said, holding up the shell. “The shell casing is made of copper. At least half the time, after the weapon is fired, the cartridge swells up in the chamber and the ejector, instead of withdrawing the empty casing, merely cuts through the flange, leaving the casing tightly lodged in the chamber.” He held up the bent nail. “That leaves the soldier with no alternative, but to use a bent nail to dig the cartridge out.” He pantomimed a demonstration, then put the shell and the nail on the table before him. “In the meantime, the Indian, who is armed with a repeater rifle, can get off four or five more shots.”

  “And you blame Secretary Belknap for that?” Clymer asked.

  “I do indeed, sir,” Custer said. Then he added, “And I also blame the president’s brother, Orville Grant.”

  At the mention of President Grant’s brother’s name, there was such an outcry that Clymer had to gavel the meeting back to order.

  Once order was restored, Custer continued his testimony, naming names and pointing o
ut specific incidents of corruption.

  May 1, 1876

  Willard Hotel

  The hearings had been going on for two days now, and so far Custer had been unable to arrange a meeting with Secretary of War Taft. He was beginning to think about chucking the whole thing and just going back to Colorado. What difference did it really make whether he had a government commission or not? If the governor didn’t like it, he could appoint someone else in his place.

  Buying a newspaper, Falcon settled in a comfortable leather chair in the lobby of the hotel and began reading an account of Custer’s appearance. Unlike the article Custer had shown Falcon in New York, this newspaper, which was a supporter of President Grant and his administration, was particularly harsh in its appraisal of Custer’s latest appearance before congress.

  Custer’s Testimony

  INUENDO AND VILIFICATION.

  Shocks Fellow Officers.

  Custer, a well-known self-aggrandizer, has gone to great lengths to disparage his fellow officers by means of innuendo, hearsay, and, some believe, perjury. According to Colonel James Forsyth, an aide to General Sherman, “Not a single officer of the army approves Custer’s testimony, which is largely made up of frontier gossip and stories.”

  “Mr. MacCallister?”

  Looking up from the paper, Falcon saw a woman who appeared to be in her late twenties or early thirties. She was blond, wearing a dress of dark blue silk and a white hat trimmed with an ostrich feather that was dyed the same shade of blue as her dress. She was, Falcon observed, an exceptionally pretty woman.

  “I’m Falcon MacCallister,” Falcon said, standing quickly.

  “Mr. MacCallister, my name is Lorena Wood,” the young woman said. “I’m from Secretary Taft’s office. His carriage is outside, and if you would care to accompany me, I’ll take you to him.”

  “Thank you, I’d be glad to,” Falcon said.

  When they reached the open carriage, the driver started to climb down to help Lorena into the conveyance, but Falcon held up his hand to stop the driver while offering his own assistance to Miss Wood.

  Lorena proved to be a delightful companion, pointing out various landmarks and sites as the carriage rolled through the streets of Washington. She also had a good sense of humor, and a rich, throaty laugh.

  “Oh, my,” the driver said as he drew the team to a stop.

  “What is it, Mr. Bailey?” Lorena asked.

  “There are two wagons drawn across the road, miss,” the driver said “And I have the uncomfortable feeling that they were put there purposely in order to prevent our passage.”

  “Can you back out?” Lorena asked.

  “I intend to try,” Bailey said, hauling back on the reins.

  The horses began to back up, and the carriage started rolling slowly in reverse. Before they had gone very far, three men suddenly appeared from behind the blockading wagons, and they ran up the street toward the carriage, brandishing knives. One of them cut the reins to the team, and the horses stopped.

  “Stay where you are, driver,” one of the men said gruffly. “Missy, you and your boyfriend throw down all the money you have. And you better pray that you have enough to satisfy me.”

  “What if we choose not to throw down our money?” Falcon asked.

  “Mr. MacCallister, please,” Lorena said. “I don’t know what it’s like where you are from, but these are evil and desperate men.”

  “You better listen to the lady, mister,” the spokesman said.

  “You haven’t answered my question,” Falcon said. “Suppose I choose not to give you any money. What do you do then?”

  “Then we kill you,” the robber said as an evil smile spread across his face.

  “You mean you will try,” Falcon replied.

  “Are you crazy, mister? I have a knife in my hand,” the robber said.

  “And I have a gun in mine,” Falcon said, raising his hand and showing the pistol.

  “Ha! A dandy like you with a pistol?” the robber said. He laughed. “I doubt you could hit a bull in the ass with a bass fiddle.”

  Falcon fired three quick shots, taking the earlobes off all three men. The men yelled out in pain, then slapped their hands to their mangled and bloody earlobes.

  “I could have done worse,” Falcon said. “But I wanted to keep you healthy enough to move those wagons out of the way.”

  “What makes you think we’re going to move those damn wagons for you?” one of the men asked.

  “Because if you don’t move those ‘damn’ wagons”—Falcon emphasized the word “damn” to throw it back in the would-be robber’s face—“I will use the next shot the to take the rest of your ear off,” Falcon said. “And if that doesn’t convince you, I will kill you.”

  Falcon cocked the pistol and pointed it at the spokesman’s chest. “And I really don’t want to do that, because then that would leave only two of you to do the work. Think about it. Wouldn’t it be easier for three of you to do it than it would be for two of you?”

  “No, no, we’ll move the wagons,” the leader of the outlaws said, realizing not only that Falcon meant business, but that he was the one under the gun. “Come on, men, let’s get the wagons out of there so these folks can pass.”

  As the three would-be robbers moved the wagons, the carriage driver spliced the cut line, then climbed back into the seat. Less than three minutes after they had been stopped, they were under way once more, en route to the office of the Secretary of War.

  Once they arrived, Lorena asked Falcon to wait for a moment in the anteroom while she went in to see the secretary. A moment later, Secretary Taft himself came to greet him.

  “Well, Mr. MacCallister, Lorena just told me what a hero you are.”

  “Nothing heroic about it, Mr. Secretary,” Falcon replied. “A pistol against knives is just common sense.”

  The secretary laughed out loud. “A pistol against knives is common sense,” he said. “Oh, my, that is a good one. Well, do come in, Mr. MacCallister. Or should I say Colonel MacCallister. I can guarantee you, your commission will be approved.”

  “Thank you,” Falcon said.

  When Falcon followed Secretary Taft into his office, he saw Lorena standing by the secretary’s desk, smiling at him.

  “Miss Wood, if you don’t mind, would you act as a witness while I administer the oath?” Taft asked.

  “I would be happy to,” Lorena replied.

  “If you would please, Mr. MacCallister, raise your right hand.”

  MacCallister responded as directed, then repeated the oath after the secretary.

  “I, Falcon MacCallister having been appointed a reserve officer in the Army of the United States, in the grade of lieutenant colonel, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign or domestic, that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservations or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office upon which I am about to enter. So help me God.”

  “Congratulations, Colonel,” Secretary Taft said, extending his hand.

  “Thank you,” Falcon said.

  “May I offer my own congratulations?” Lorena asked, extending her hand as well.

  Chapter Seven

  As Falcon and Secretary Taft left the secretary’s office, Custer was waiting outside.

  “General Custer,” Taft said, surprised to see him. “Is there something I can do for you?”

  “Mr. Secretary, last Friday, when I spoke with General Sherman, he told me that he asked you to write a letter to the managers of the impeachment trial, requesting that I be released so I can return to my command,” Custer said.

  Taft cleared his throat. “Uh, yes, he did ask me to write such a letter.”

  “And did you?”

  “I was ordered not to,” Taft replied. “I was directed to designate another officer to command the Seventh.”

&nbs
p; “You were ordered not to write the letter? Mr. Secretary, correct me if I am wrong, sir, but the only person who can order you on such matters would be the President of the United States,” Custer said.

  “You are not wrong, Custer,” Taft replied.

  “I cannot believe that Grant would endanger the entire campaign for political retaliation,” Custer said. “This is unconscionable. Where is General Sherman? I must speak with him.”

  “The general is in New York,” Taft said. “Perhaps if you went directly to the president to plead your case, he would reconsider.”

  “I have been to see the president,” Custer replied, fuming. “For three days I have been to see him, and today he kept me cooling my heels in his office for five hours. Finally Colonel Ingalls happened by and interceded with the president for me, but Grant sent word that he would not receive me.”

  “I’m sorry,” Taft said.

  “Yes, well, being sorry doesn’t get the job done, does it?” Custer sighed audibly. He looked over at Falcon, who had been standing by in silence for the entire time.

  “Falcon,” he said, as if just now noticing him. “I’m sorry you had to be privy to this.”

  “No need to apologize,” Falcon replied. “I can understand your frustration.”

  “When are you going back?”

  “I leave on the evening train,” Falcon said.

  “I’m going back as well,” Custer said.

  “Are you sure you want to do that, Custer?” Taft asked. “If I understand you, you have not yet made a courtesy call on the president.”

  “Oh, I’ve called all right,” Custer said. “The president didn’t receive me, but I called. In the meantime, General Sherman has approved my departure. So unless you, Mr. Secretary, give me a direct order to remain in Washington, I will leave this very evening.”

  “I will not order you to stay,” Taft said. “But I’m sure you understand that no authorization of mine can override the president’s wishes.”