The Titanic Plan (7 page)

“
Is this a robbery? Do you want money?”

“
Com’on, Captain, don’t ya know what an order is?”

The man was addressing Archie by his rank. It was obviously no robbery.

“
I work for the President of…”

“
Get in the damn car. Now!!” The man pushed Archie into the idling automobile. The driver, who wore an odd chauffeur’s cap pulled low to his eyes, stepped on the gas. The car sped off.

“
What’s going on? What do you want?”

“
Just sit back and enjoy the scenery, Captain,” the harsh voice uttered. “Ain’t New York lovely?”

Archie peered out. It was only a few blocks from where he was strolling, but the world was far different here: darker in every respect. Dilapidated tenements loomed close to the street, which was pocked with potholes and strewn with garbage. The few pedestrians on the sidewalk were Negro men in shabby clothes. Archie grew uneasy watching small knots of dusky men crowded on the street corners, suspiciously eyeing him going by.

“
San Juan Hill, that’s what they call it here,” his kidnapper said. “Just like what ol’ Teddy Roosevelt charged up with his gang o’ Rough Riders. San Juan Hill. The perfect place for a good fight. Quite a neighborhood, huh, Captain? Wait’ll ya see what’s next?”

“
What’s next” was a few blocks south. It was even more squalid than the Negro section, with a stench of rotting rubbish and open sewage that paralyzed the senses. Rather than being barren of people, these filthy streets teemed with life. Above, on balconies, inexhaustible women squawked to each other while hanging laundry over the rusting iron railings. Along the sidewalk large, rough men loitered in groups, their oily caps cocked on their heads. Archie saw a dead horse rotting near a curb. A group of scruffy children leapt back and forth over the decomposing corpse. One boy pushed a little girl into the horse just as she was taking her jump. She tumbled into the dead animal’s desiccated ribs. The boy laughed. After a moment’s pout, the girl started laughing too. The whole group of mangy gamins started laughing then they all ran and took flying leaps onto the decaying carcass.

“
Welcome to Hell’s Kitchen, Captain,” his captor said.

Archie didn’t answer; he was entranced by the spectacle outside, observing it as an anthropologist would view the strange habits of a foreign culture. The car turned down a small dirt alleyway and pulled near a crumbling building’s back entry. The driver jumped from the parked car and hustled through a moldy door.

“
Time to move out, Captain.”

Archie felt the gun jab into his ribs again. He lifted the door’s handle then slid out. It was the first time Archie was able to see his kidnapper’s face. Rather than the coarse, burly man he expected, the person behind him was a small, angel-faced boy who looked no more than thirteen, if that. Seeing Archie’s surprise, the boy smiled, revealing a Grand Canyon gap between his front teeth.

They stepped into a dank warehouse that was stacked with barrels and smelled of beer mixed with motor oil. The floor was cold and moist. On the far side of the warehouse was a half open door. Archie’s young kidnapper knocked gently. “Bring him in,” a voice from inside called.

The boy pushed Archie into a low, murky room whose only light came through a grimy window. As his eyes began to adjust, Archie saw a large map of New York on one wall and a rickety desk near the back of the room, on which was a half-eaten chicken. The man at the desk looked like he might have been the driver, though Archie wasn’t sure. He wore no chauffeur’s cap. Instead, he had a torrent of long black hair that cascaded onto his shoulders.

“
Captain Butt,” the man said, rising from his seat. He looked like a poorhouse apparition, albeit a handsome one, with a strong face that was smudged with several days growth of beard. His wool sweater was unraveling near the bottom of the sleeves and the leather of his high, heavy boots was cracking. His poverty-stricken appearance belied the way he moved – graceful and confident like a cat.

“
Excuse the primitive quarters, Captain, but I thought it would be appropriate to meet in surroundings that might make us both feel comfortable.”

“
Is this your idea of a joke, sir?”

“
Not at all,” the man said cheerfully. “Shitholes like this is where we spent most of our time together.”

“
You’ve mistaken me for someone else.”

“
Com’on Captain, doesn’t the rottenness of this place remind you of those romantic nights in Manila?”

Archie’s body snapped at the mention of Manila. He squinted to get a clearer look at the man whose coal black eyes glimmered through the darkness. Archie stammered: “Mick?”

The man saluted. “Corporal Michael Shaughnessy, sir.” And with that he threw his arms around Archie. “Goddam Captain, it’s good to see you.”

Archie stood with his hands awkwardly by his side.

“
You look a little puzzled. I don’t see why,” Mick said, releasing his tight embrace. “I mean, I’m still the same old Mick, you can see that.”

Actually, Archie
could
see that. It’s what puzzled him even more. If the man before him was defeated by life, beaten and broken, his shabby appearance could be explained. But this man before him was as powerful and dynamic as Archie remembered him to be. “You’ll excuse me Mick, I’m a little confused.”

“
Confusion is not always a bad thing.”

“
I take it there’s been some changes in your life, Mick.”

“
Just a few. Please, have a seat. Would you like some coffee? Henry here makes a cup that would wake the dead.” Mick gestured to Archie’s boy kidnapper, who flashed a gap-toothed grin at Mick’s praise.

“
No, thank you. Mick, I’m currently the chief military aide to the President of the United States. You can’t just kidnap me off the street.”

“
I can and I did, Captain.”

“
You could have just called me.”

“
I don’t think so. The Feds have a keen interest in me. I believe you and the Attorney General have already had a chat in that regards.”

There was some sort of game being played, Archie thought, though he had no idea what it was. “He said you were responsible for the explosion at the Astor’s home last New Year’s Eve.”

Mick grinned slyly, hearing the accusation.

“
And…were you?” Archie asked.

“
No. The Attorney General was mistaken. A furnace blew up. Everyone knows that. It was printed in the papers. Page one, New York Times.”

“
The papers don’t always get it right.”

“
In this case, they did. I’ve never lied to you, Captain. If I’m responsible for a subversive action, I’ll be right square about it.”

“
Then why are they interested in you?”

“
That is an excellent question. Come on, let’s go for a little stroll.” Mick took Archie’s arm and led him to a door behind his desk. He opened it and gentlemanly gestured for Archie to go first. Archie hesitated. “This won’t take long,” Mick said. “I know you have a train to catch back to Washington this evening.”

He knows too much
, Archie thought, stepping behind Mick into a stairwell whose walls smelled of sour ammonia. They climbed two flights then Mick swung open the door. The clamor and stench hit Archie like a hammer. Clots of people were crowded in the hallway. Babies were screaming, children screeching, women yelling, men shouting – it was a symphony of human dissonance. The smell was a sulfurous blend of gas, greasy food, human waste, cigarette smoke, sweat, grime and fetid garbage. Archie grew queasy.

“
A little different from the Morgan Library, yes Captain?”

How did he know I was at the Morgan library this morning?

Mick started talking as he led Archie down the hallway. “There’s no heating in the building so they come into the hallway for warmth. They stand together to generate heat. It beats freezing to death.”

Stepping into the horde, Mick was met by a large, red-faced woman leaning against a wall, feeding twins, one on each breast. “Mornin’ to ya, Mick,” she squawked.

“
You look radiant today, Mae,” Mick answered.

“
Two babes suckin’ at m’tits keeps me flamed.” Archie smelled a noxious combination of garlic and whisky on her breath.

Pushing his way down the hall, Mick was greeted by the wretched collection of rag and bone people like a local prince. “Hiya, Mick,” “Happy day to ya,” “Top of the mornin,” “God bless ya, Mick.” An emaciated old man with a long white beard and a face so creased he looked like some medieval gargoyle, lifted a clawed hand to his brow and delivered a palsied salute. Mick saluted crisply back.

To Archie it was like being jostled through one of Dante’s circles of hell, except these people seemed relatively accepting of their infernal conditions. At the end of the hallway Mick pushed open two windows that led to a fire escape. He flicked his head, inviting Archie to step out on the rusting iron platform. Archie found the blast of chilled air comforting relief after the suffocating atmosphere inside.

“
A bit stuffy in there, wouldn’t you say?” asked Mick.

“
What are you doing here, Mick? You’re a decorated solider.”

“
Actually, there were several other decorated soldiers in that hallway. I should have introduced you, soldier to soldier”

Archie grew irked by Mick’s glibness. “Tell me what you want and I’ll be on my way.”

“
What do you see on that street, Captain?”

Archie looked down to a sprawl of people, most of them dressed in threadbare clothes, moving like a single, giant insect up and back along the crowded sidewalks, trying to keep warm.

“
This floor we walked down is only one squalid floor in one ramshackle building on one woe-begotten block. There are hundreds of blocks just like this, Captain, thousands more tenements, some far worst than this. And there are tens of thousands of people who live in these conditions. That’s why I brought you here. To see this.”

“
It’s sad, Mick, but I can’t do anything about it.”

“
You’re with the President of the United States every day,” Mick said, agitated. “You have his ear. Of course you could do something about it!”

“
My job is to attend to the President’s needs. Not to be his advisor. He has plenty of those. I am a soldier. I do my duty and that’s all I do. You know what the responsibility of a soldier is. You were the best soldier I’ve ever known.”

“
I still am that soldier, Captain. And I remain true to those I serve – the American people.” Mick swept his arm out toward the crowded street below. “These American people. I fight for them.”

“
I’m sorry, Mick, but you sound like an anarchist.”

“
Do you know who owns this hellhole of a building? Do you know who owns this entire filthy block?!”

“
I do not,” said Archie.

“
A slumlord. The richest of slumlords. Though he has never set foot in his empire here, he just sends some lackey to collect the rent. You can help, Captain, you’re in a position to. You are a courageous man, I know that.”

“
I’m sorry, Mick, this is your war, not mine. And now I must take my leave.”

“
You’ll help me. I’ll enlist you in this war. You’ll come around. I know you too well.”

Archie saluted Mick. “As before, I wish you well soldier, if only for what was our friendship.”

“
Thank you, sir,” Mick saluted back. “I’ll have Henry drive you to your hotel.”

“
That’s okay,” said Archie. “I prefer to leave by myself.”

* * *

Archie rode with Taft in the Presidential rail car that evening. The discussion centered on what
bon voyage
gift to give Roosevelt upon his departure for safari. Archie suggested a small gold ruler that would be inscribe with Roosevelt’s favorite parting words: “
Good bye – good luck
.” Archie always liked that expression, especially the strong and emphatic way Roosevelt would say it. Taft wanted another line added: “
and have a safe return
.”