Chapter 11: Results and Celebrations

Meredith

POOR MR. WILCOX didn’t survive the accident at Lincoln Arms. Liam told me about what he saw and that Mr. Wilcox had planned the accident deliberately, but that didn’t stop either of us from having sympathy for him. Liam had spent the day with adrenalin pumping into his veins, first with the accident and then with the news from Richard that these guns might not even have been made by Lincoln Arms. The decision regarding what to do about them hasn’t been made, but Richard is continuing to upgrade the crate of rifles he has at the range.

When he got home, the adrenalin was wearing off and he looked sad and somehow much older than he’d been when we were riding the previous afternoon. We sat in the kitchen at lunch and when he looked up from his food, his eyes were filled with tears.

“I’ve never seen someone die before,” he said. “It wasn’t as if I sat by his bed as he slowly died from cancer, nor like I saw blood from a gunshot wound. But I saw a man looking at me as his world came to an end. What was so terrible for him? Why would he choose to end his life rather than face the consequences?” He left his food and I followed him from the table to the library. When he turned to face me again, the tears had let go and ran from his eyes.

I don’t know if what I did was right or wrong, but I folded him in my arms and sat with him as he wept, my own eyes overflowing. I held him against my breast and petted his head and whispered comforting words. When we had cried ourselves out, he pulled himself upright. He saw the wet spot on my dress and leaned in to place a soft kiss on my lips. I responded, welcoming the life-affirming sensation of his body against mine. We broke the kiss and moved apart, both of us embarrassed by our emotional display.

I didn’t mention the kiss, nor did he apologize. I simply opened a notebook and began to organize his thoughts on the day as he spoke them. Did Wilcox have an accomplice? If the rifles were manufactured at Lincoln Arms, it is almost certain that he did. They would need designs and materials and manufacturing. The scale of a coverup that implied would have been like having a shadow company operating alongside the regular work. That seemed to indicate the arms weren’t manufactured here. They could have been brought in and warehoused with no one but Wilcox the wiser.

From where? Small arms manufacturing was common. There were at least three dozen manufacturers in America. The Cynings considered Lincoln Arms to be a second-tier small arms manufacturer, far behind the major names in firearms—Barrett, Remington, Colt, Ruger, Henry, Mossberg, Springfield. They were major defense suppliers as well. Most of the second- and third-tier manufacturers would have as difficult a time manufacturing and then losing 5,000 rifles as Lincoln would. But why would a first-tier manufacturer need to hide weapons in a small company’s warehouse?

“Foreign?” I suggested. “Could these have come from a foreign country?”

“Oh, God. It would mean they’d been smuggled illegally into the country. Stashing them at Lincoln Arms could make us an accessory. Who would imagine the CEO and COO of the company wouldn’t know of such a deal? And with Wilcox out of the picture there is no one else to point to.”

We finished the report and sealed it in an envelope to hand to Liam’s parents.

“He said to wear casual sporting clothes,” Hana said after we’d chatted for a minute. She called me at the office and was agitated about her upcoming date with Liam. “Do you know how big a range that includes? Of course you do. But I don’t think Liam does. What kind of sporting? Indoor or outdoor? Will I sweat? He has to tell me more. How am I to guess what I should wear?”

“My, Hana. You certainly seem anxious about dating Liam. Why don’t you just call him this afternoon? He’s a nice guy,” I said. I was still working on our report from the night before.

“You mean you don’t know what we’re doing or where we’re going? I can’t just call him and demand to know more. Wouldn’t that be awfully forward? It’s not like I think we’d ever have a real relationship. He won’t wait around for an Aspirant to suddenly have time for him.”

“Well, he did seem to favor you at the party last weekend.”

“Ha! Donnie occupied all my time, and nice though Donnie is, I’m not going to try to manage a long-distance relationship and remote deployments. I like Liam. I know we’re not really together. A second date doesn’t imply anything, but he is fun. It could be two months before we have another opportunity to meet. I shouldn’t be taking the time this weekend,” Hana said, working herself up.

“Okay. I’ll let Liam know he needs to call you and give you more details.”

“You’re a doll, Meredith. And don’t worry. When you’re ready to start a relationship with him, I’ll be long gone.”

A relationship? I couldn’t help but think about how we’d wept together yesterday afternoon. And then that long gentle kiss. Well, that’s not enough to base a relationship on, is it?

I told Liam he needed to call Hana and explained why simply saying sporting clothes was inadequate for a date to prepare properly. He finally got it.

“Meredith, I’m ... I mean, about dating ... It’s just that ... What I’d really like...”

“Liam, don’t struggle with it. Enjoy it. Isn’t this your first second date? Soon it will be more comfortable,” I laughed.

“That wasn’t what I was struggling with, but I suppose you’re right. I should concentrate on what’s before me and not worry about the future for now.”

“Instead of the library, why don’t we pick up soft drinks and go to my office for our work this afternoon. In fact, make your call and I’ll fix a bit of afternoon snack for us and meet you there.”

“Is that all right?” he asked.

“I can’t see why not. I run up and down the stairs to my office two or three times every afternoon while we’re working. I suppose it is good exercise but I don’t think I need it. Do you?”

“Ah. No. Of course, I’ve been terribly inconsiderate of you,” he said. “Certainly, we should use your office. That’s what it’s there for.”

He went to his room to make the call to Hana and I headed for the kitchen.

“Miss Meredith, are you here for a little snack?” Cook asked.

“Liam and I will be working in my office this afternoon. I thought we could use a little more energy,” I said, heading for the refrigerator.

“I have just the thing. Why don’t you go ahead and I’ll send Lupe with your snack in half an hour?”

“Really? That would be so kind of you.”

“Truthfully?” he whispered. “Lupe is afraid you don’t like her because you never ask her to do anything. This will make her feel important.”

“I had no idea! I just don’t want to abuse her service. I’m only an assistant.”

“You are an assistant and Lupe is a maid. Her job is to clean and serve for you. Any little errand you can send her on, she would be thrilled.”

That shocked me a little. I’m simply not used to having household staff. At home we did for ourselves. I knew Lupe came into my bedroom each morning while I was working. I’d tried to make her job easier by being sure my bed was made and my clothes were hung. Did she think that meant I didn’t like the way she cleaned? I wondered about Ray in the stables. I went out to ride two or three times a week and always insisted on grooming Dancer and saddling her myself. I’m not so small nor she so big that I can’t handle the task. But did Ray think I didn’t like the way he worked with the horses? I would need to rethink my relationship with the household staff.

I was in my office, facing the door between our rooms, when Liam knocked. I turned quickly and opened the hall door.

“Oh! You’re here.”

“You were expecting me, weren’t you?” he asked.

“Yes, of course. I just ... I thought you would simply use the door between our studies,” I said. I was somehow embarrassed that he had come to the hall door. I wasn’t sure why.

“What door between our studies?”

“Oh! Well, that one,” I said pointing at it.

Liam crossed to the door and opened it, facing the blank door on the other side. “This goes into my study?”

“You were unaware of it? Lupe told me when she gave me the first tour.”

“I don’t have a door on that side. I need to talk to Erich about it. My entire wall on this side of my study is bookshelves.”

“Oh, that’s funny! You didn’t even know a door was there? It makes no difference. We have this door and we are not engaged in clandestine activity.”

“Clandestine? Uh ... People might get the wrong idea if I was using a private door between our quarters. That’s true. I’ll discuss it with Erich. Now, shall we get to work?” Just then Lupe knocked at the door.

“Miss Meredith? Mr. Liam? Is it convenient to serve your snack?”

“Yes, Lupe. Thank you. Please place it on the table.” I turned to Liam. “I’ll get my steno pad and you can tell me how we are outlining the final report while we eat, Liam.”

Lupe set the sandwiches and a teapot on the table with napkins and spoons. It was a far more elegant setting than I would have brought up. The egg sandwiches were trimmed of crust and cut in neat triangles. They were served in the center of the table so Liam and I could reach them from either side. Our teacups and the pot were on a serving tray and she poured for us, setting a cup and saucer on the table next to us with our napkins and spoons. She curtseyed to us and left the room, closing the door behind her.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Lupe look so happy,” Liam said. “I wonder if she has a boyfriend.” I simply smiled.

Liam

I WAS VEXED to discover I there was a door between our studies I knew nothing about. It was like having a secret passage in an old castle. My imagination was quick to create adventures through the secret door. Yes, I am a fan of magical tales and secret adventures.

Meredith and I worked on the final report for my parents all afternoon and well into the evening after dinner. We included a chart of conclusions and possibilities, which I drew out on the chalkboard and then went to my own study where I had a drafting table and could draw the chart more carefully for inclusion in the report. I also had the diagram Richard had drafted of the new machining it would take to convert the D-270 rifles to D-270A, magazine fed semi-automatic.

Then I rejoined her in her study and we assembled the report. I was quite happy with it and thought this might be the end of my internship at Lincoln Arms. I thanked Meredith sincerely and took the report with me when I retired.

“An excellent report,” Father said. “I have launched a full investigation into the origin of the rifles and have found no design or manufacturing records here in the plant. We can only conclude, as you did, that they were delivered here for some clandestine purpose and without our one link, Mr. Wilcox, there is no way we can track down the culprits.”

“After considering the legal aspects of it, we’re putting a team on stripping them all down to components and melting down the barrel and chamber pieces,” Mother said. “As you have pointed out, the stocks are good quality maple and we see no reason not to build a different rifle on them. This was truly excellent work, Liam. Your grandfather would be proud of you.”

“Thank you, Mother and Father. I’m glad you find it acceptable,” I said.

“Now, tell us what you learned,” Father said. What? I’d just given him the report. Did he want an oral presentation?

“I learned there were crates hiding in plain sight,” I said hesitantly.

“No. No. Not the result of your investigation, but what you learned for yourself. What important discoveries did you make by being an intern at Lincoln Arms?”

“Oh. I see. I learned the importance of our family name. When I was simply William Thomas, an intern, people were friendly and open, willing to help. But when it came out this week that I was your son, I felt people grow cautious around me. I could call it respectful in some instances, like Mr. Daniels at the range. But the line workers—even the ones I’d shadowed to learn what their jobs were—looked at me suspiciously, as if I’d been spying on them.”

“In a way, you were,” Mother said. “But you became the spy revealed this week.”

“What you discovered was a fundamental problem with management. Your mother and I had suspected something was wrong for several months, but whenever we walked the floor of the factory conversations hushed and people were focused on their jobs. We hold their jobs in our hands and there is an automatic division that results from having that kind of power.”

“I’m not certain my father had that same division. He worked side-by-side with many of those people on the floor. They built the business together and had mutual respect for each other. Even after three years, in which we have made no major changes to the operation, we are still considered outsiders and a threat. I’m afraid we will never be on an equal footing with the workers.”