Chapter 26

The Chicago Auditorium was, itself, a notable feature of the Chicago cityscape. Completed in 1889, the ten-story structure, with an eighteen-story tower above the main entrance, was not only the tallest building in Chicago, but it was also known to be the largest building in the country. The Auditorium’s forty-three hundred-seat theater, designed with attention to acoustics and unobstructed audience views, was itself wrapped within both commercial office space and a grand hotel.

It was this hotel’s restaurant to which Malik and Peng repaired for an appointed luncheon with Yeats and Tremaine.

Malik had removed the hook from his prosthetic and mounted a non-mechanical, carved hand, painted to match his flesh tones. The thumb and index finger were set in close opposition and could be used as a simple device for gross manipulation, such as holding a napkin or steadying a stemmed wine glass that was set on a table.

As a goodwill gift, Krause had presented him with a pair of fine, white, kid gloves, suitable for formal wear. He told Peng he would like to shop for additional gloves after lunch.

As they enjoyed the meal, Tremaine said, “That lake is amazing. It is an inland sea. The wind had the waves crashing ashore.”

“He’s right,” Yeats added. “I’ve been to the Pacific coast and it has nothing on Lake Michigan.”

“You’ve been here before, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” she said, “but it was late winter, and Lake Michigan was frozen over. It looked like a snow-covered plain.” Then she chuckled. “Except that, here and there, people had cut holes and were fishing through it.”

“Then you can just imagine that there are four more Great Lakes out there, though the only other one I’ve seen is Lake Erie.” Malik looked wistful.

Yeats said, softly. “With your first wife?”

He smiled. “Gabriela and I toured the water boundaries of the East, even down to Florida, on our honeymoon.”

Tremaine asked, “So you’ve been to New York City?”

Smiling still, Malik nodded. “New York, Boston, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Washington, Savannah, Panama City, and New Orleans. I can personally attest that there is a lot of water out there, most of it salty.”

“What was New York like?”

Malik looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, “Actually, a lot like Chicago, but with narrower streets and wider rivers.”

After lunch, they all visited the Marshall Field & Company department store, where Malik found a suitable variety of gloves, both thin and close-fitting dress gloves, as well as those suitable for riding or similar activities. He also purchased gifts for the family, while Tremaine and Yeats wandered about remarking on the offerings.

The group returned to the private railroad coach after shopping. With their concert tickets for Sunday evening, and a pre-concert supper they would attend together, the younger people had chosen to go out to dinner and a play that evening; Malik and Peng allowed them their privacy. Tremaine had arranged for the yardmaster to call for a hansom cab, which picked them up on the adjoining access road.

Malik, meanwhile, tended to skin care and exercises, as prescribed by Sharon Krause.

(Saturday, October 31, 1891)

Sunday. November 1, 1891

Malik and Peng had hiked over to the depot building to buy a Sunday paper. He noted that Saturday’s New York papers and Friday’s San Francisco papers were also available. He asked the news agent, “How do they get them here so quickly?”

“By printing them a day early,” the colored man replied, smiling. “They’re special editions, imprinted with the next day’s date, just to seem more timely to us simple folk in the Midwest. Even then, these papers only arrived an hour ago.”

Malik consulted his watch. “At six?”

“A little later for the west coast paper.”

“Still,” Malik said, “two days to the east coast, three days to the west. I’m in the business, and it’s still a marvel to me.”

“You a newspaper man?”

“Railroader. I work for a short line, the Kansas and Arizona Southern.”

“Oh, sure. I got a cousin, works for them, down in Texas. He says it never gets cold down there.”

“Not like around here,” Malik allowed. “Well, good day to you, sir.”

“Watch that newspaper ink, against your clothes,” the man warned.

As they walked the quarter mile back to their coach, Peng said, “Schroeder’s letter has made you uneasy.”

‘Yeah. That Sam Webber sounds like another self-entitled oligarch cut from the same cloth as his sister-in-law.”

“Possibly.” Then she said, “Ah. You think Schroeder’s letter was not simply informational, but a warning.”

“Yes. Else why send it? There was nothing in it that was of any significant note except for the part about Webber and the fact that even the governor had to kowtow to him.”

“That is pronounced, ketou.”

“Maybe in China, but if I said that here, no one would know what I meant.” After a few more steps, he said, “This is the first time I’ve had to anticipate trouble since I lost my hand.”

“What about the trip through Texas?”

“I really didn’t expect any problems on that trip.”

Peng said, “Give me some time to think about it.”

They encountered Wu Jianhong as he was leaving the coach; Malik had given him the day off.

“Good morning, Mister Wu,” Malik greeted him. “Have you plans for the day?”

“I will go Chicago China Town. Plans form then.”

“Enjoy yourself. We won’t start worrying about you until tomorrow morning, if you want to make a night of it.”

“Perhaps. I leave pastry for breakfast today, soup on stove for lunch, with fresh bread. Also cheese and apples.

“Thanks very much. I didn’t want to trouble you today.”

“No trouble. Knead dough, chop vegetables, my...” He turned to Peng and said, “Chan xiu?” (Representations of spoken Chinese have been simplified.)

She said, “Zen meditation.”

“Yes,” he said to Malik, “Make bread, make soup so easy, I do Zen meditation.”

“Still, it was thoughtful. Thank you. I hope you have a pleasant day.”

With a bow, Wu walked off toward a nearby streetcar line.

After breakfast, Tremaine and Yeats decided to go back to Lake Shore Drive, despite the chill breeze, just for the experience of the Great Lake. They, too, walked off toward the street car line.

Peng had Malik bring out the various fittings for the device’s cuff, contained in a small valise with a velvet covered, padded interior.

There were seven attachments, three of them mechanical and four of static construction. These included two mechanical hooks, one rounded and the other with gently squared corners; three carved hands, one with open, relaxed fingers, one with a mostly closed fist, the other with the fingers partially open and the thumb opposing the index finger; two manual hooks, both rounded with blunted point ends; a mechanical device that was shaped like, and operated as, tongs.

According to the accompanying literature, the cuff, itself, when properly secured, was capable of shear resistance of forty-five pounds in a steady vertical lift or eighteen pounds in a quick lift, with lateral resistance to the same specifications.

Peng had Malik don the cuff apparatus and then connect the various devices and prosthetics. She pushed, pulled, jerked, and batted at various parts, particularly the three mechanical devices and the carved wooden fist.

Then she sat with a pencil and paper, making sketches, while he went back to drinking coffee and reading the paper.

After a bit of page shuffling, he said, “It says here that the Rock Island has bought out two short lines, one in Iowa and the other between Kansas and Colorado.” He looked at Peng, who was still sketching. He said, “I know the Colorado line. It doesn’t connect to the Rock Island directly, so what is their plan? Do they have a connection targeted or are they going into the short line business?”

Peng made eye contact, but made no comment.

After lunch, they retired to their bed cabin for some loving intimacies and a reviving nap.

Exiting the theater into the extensive lobby, Tremaine was saying, “I’d heard of Beethoven, of course, but this was the first time I’d heard his music. It wasn’t at all what I expected. I quite liked it. What was it?” He lifted the program to read it in the bright lights from the overhead arched ceiling. “Yes, Symphony Number Five. I wouldn’t mind hearing that, again.”

Yeats said, “It was a good, but I preferred the Tschaikowsky concerto. I thought it was very romantic.”

Tremaine said, “But what about that Wagner piece they opened with? That was rather, oh, ominous, wasn’t it?”

Malik said, “I believe that was the overture to his Faust opera. Faust is the story of a smart and powerful man who sells his soul to the devil. You’ve got to expect the music to be somewhat foreboding.”

Up to that point, they had moved across the entry hall with the departing crowd, but near the outer doors, Malik suddenly paused, drawing the others to the side with him.

“Oh, smell that?” he asked. “Who wants some caramel corn?”

There was a news agent’s shop off the lobby, near the main entrance. The four of then filed in, occupying most of the shop’s floor space in front of the small counter.

“Four popcorn balls, please,” Malik said. Then he asked the others, “Want to split a couple bottles of root beer?”

Tremaine looked at Yeats, who nodded, yes. Tremaine said, “We’re in.”

Malik said, “Add a couple bottles of the cold root beer, too.” The theatre had been warm.

“That’ll be fifteen cents,” the clerk said, as he put the dripping bottles and the wax paper-wrapped popcorn balls on the glass counter.

As he paid, a sign on the back wall caught Malik’s eye. “Clipping service? What? You do haircuts?”

The clerk turned to where Malik was pointing. “Oh, no,” he chuckled. “That’s a service many actors use. They clip newspaper and magazine articles where an actor’s name is mentioned, then send the clippings to them periodically. They can also clip audition calls for them.”

“Really? Do they have any clients besides theatre people?”

The man shrugged, “Not that I know of.”

Malik looked at the sign for a moment, then asked, “So, you’re an agent for the clipping service? I mean, you don’t do it here, do you?”

“No, I just get a referral fee.”

“I’d like to talk to those people. Are they here in Chicago? Do you know their address?”

“Here, I’ve got some of their business cards. Let me write my name on it, in case there’s a fee in it for me.”

“If money changes hands, I’ll be glad to enter your claim.”

Outside, Yeats asked, “What are you thinking?”

He said, “What if a clipping service clipped everything that mentioned certain railroads?”

(Sunday. November 1, 1891)

Monday, November 2, 1891

Sharon Krause said, “Excellent, excellent. You were well prepared for the appliance. Good work.

“What I recommend, now, is that you continue this pattern of wear until Friday. Then, increase your time in harness, so to speak, by two hours, one in the morning, the other in the afternoon or evening, for another week. Then add two more hours, and so forth.

“If you have any problems, contact me. The most common problem is a breakdown of the skin. Sometimes you may have to temporarily discontinue use. Other times it can be covered my a plaster. It depends on the size and location. So contact me.

“After a time, the leather cup, and to a degree, the leather cuffs, will have absorbed sweat and may exude a foul odor. An overnight application of dry bicarbonate of soda will reduce or eliminate that odor and also help prevent infections. So I would begin using it sooner rather than later. Just apply the soda at night, and bang it off in the morning,” she banged her fist on the desk top, “wiping out any excess with a dry cloth.”

Peng said, “My Master has the occasional need for defensive weapons. I have considered what might be done with this appliance.” She picked up the almost-closed wooden fist from the valise. “I am considering having this shape duplicated in steel, to about two pounds.”

Krause said, “I have seen people attach everything from daggers to short clubs. A weighted ball or fist is not uncommon. You can use it any way you want, as long as you stay within the tolerances of the device and the person to whom it is attached.

“I know a smith who fabricates such attachments. Unless he has a time commitment, he could possibly have a fist made for you before you leave today. For that, I would make a solid piece, with no space between the fingers. You can use an adhesive to attach the leather from a glove.”

“What about a blade?”

Krause said, “A knife? But how ... I suppose you could make a straightened hand that could serve as a sheath or scabbard.” She sat thoughtfully, for a moment, then asked, “Are you familiar with the hash knife?”

Malik said, “Yes,” but Peng looked at him, with an obvious quizzical expression.

After a moment, Malik said to Peng, “Picture a meat cleaver. Break off the handle. Now, instead of a straight blade, picture the blade as curving up slightly toward the ends,” he demonstrated with both of his hands, “like a very flat letter U. Attach a handle across the top, and you have a hash knife. There are various designs, but it is sort of the do-all cook’s knife to carry with a trail outfit.”

Peng now directed her questioning look at Krause.

Krause explained, “Make a smaller version of the hash knife blade that could be held firmly by the mechanical hook. It is but one idea.”

She then added, “That brings me to the final feature of the apparatus. There is a way to lock the articulated hook mechanism in place.”

Placing her hand around Malik’s upper arm, she pointed to an open slot in the exposed metal on the upper cuff. “Here, on the bicep cuff, you can push the cable into this slot. That locks your mechanical appliance into whatever configuration you had last arranged; for instance, tightly grasping a knife blade. -- To release it, simply grasp the cable and pull it free. Of course, you must use your right hand to reach the cable.

“It is best if the mechanism is exposed, as it is now. With practice, one might learn to -- ‘lock’ the cable under a layer of clothing. However, it can be difficult to move the cable out of the slot unless you can manipulate it directly, which usually means having to remove your shirt.”

Malik practiced the movement several times.

Krause explained, “That particular function, if practiced often, will likely become the primary abrasion point on the cable, where it will fray, first. There are two spare cables with the kit. The specifications for the cables and the other pieces are also included, so that any competent machinist could duplicate the critical parts. I can also obtain duplicates, from England.”

Malik said, “Then order two more cables for me, if you please. I’ll pay now so that they can be sent directly to me.” He paused a moment, then asked, “What would you think if I ordered an entire second mechanism?”

“It has sometimes been done with other prosthetics. Nothing this elaborate or, frankly, this expensive. But this is the first, so I cannot compare.”

He looked at Peng. Her expression remained unrevealing.

He turned back to Krause and asked, “Would I need to come here for a fitting?”

“Probably not, now that I have your measurements.”

“Then please go ahead and order the full kit, plus a couple extra cables.”

They were to meet Tremaine and Yeats at the Pullman shops after lunch, so Malik had their rented carriage driver take them, first, to the metal smith Krause had recommended.

Out of earshot of their driver, he asked, “Why did you call me ‘Master’ in front of Miss Krause?”

After a few moments, Peng said, “I wanted to titillate her.”

“Oh? You thought the vision of you submitting yourself might have an arousing effect on her?”

“She did continue to favor me with longing gazes, Master.”

“Maybe you’d enjoy putting her through her paces, instead?”

“Only if you watched, Master.”

“I believe we will be discussing your proclivities with Beatrice and Wren, once we are home again, and in our bedroom.”

“As you wish, Master.”

(Monday, November 2, 1891)

Wednesday, November 4, 1891

Malik’s special train arrived in Waypoint at nine forty-three Wednesday night. He had wired Beatrice of their estimated arrival. She, Andy, and Christina were on the depot platform to greet them.

As he embraced Beatrice, he said to Andy, who was standing behind her, “Why are you two out this late? I’m grateful for the welcome, but you didn’t have to come out.”

With a quick but tender kiss, he released Beatrice, who then embraced Peng.

Andy said, “I don’t know about them, but I’m here to see your hook. Ooh! Can I touch it?”

Christina said, “He doesn’t act like an idiot until you’re around, Emil, so I blame you.” She gave him a quick hug. “Welcome home.” Then she added, “In fact, there’s a group here awaiting election results, so we were at the depot to begin with.”

“Really? What’s still to be determined?”

Beatrice said, “Nothing local. The special tax district for town deputies passed handily.

“It’s the suffrage issue. It’s close, with approval in the lead. But it’s Galena and a couple other northern counties. They’re doing recounts, because the votes were so close on suffrage. Or so they said. The governor’s sent some state bailiffs up there to watch for hanky panky.”

“So those Buchholz mine owners don’t want their wives and daughters voting, eh?” Malik was chortling.

“It’s worse than that,” Christina said. “A couple of them have sworn to move out of the state if women get the vote.”

Malik, still chuckling, said, “Well, I reckon we’ll just have to try to get along without them.”

Lucy Edry, the pharmacist and owner of an apothecary shop, called from the depot door, “Looks like some results from Meseta coming in.”

Just then, there was an excited cheer from inside the depot, overwhelmingly female in pitch.

(Wednesday, November 4, 1891)

Thursday, November 5, 1891

At breakfast, Wren asked, “If you’re not going to visit one of the branches this month, have you another task in mind?”

But Malik looked at Aspen and she looked back, expectantly. He said, “Not so much of a task, but more of... an adventure.” Aspen was now grinning at her father.

Beatrice said, “Adventure? What are you planning now, husband?”

Still looking at Aspen, though now the boys were paying attention, too, Malik said, “A visit to the Spa.”

Beatrice exclaimed, “The Spa? In November?.”

At the same time, Aspen was telling her brothers, “The Spa! We’re going to the Spa!” The two-year-olds knew enough to realize something special was upcoming and began to wiggle excitedly in their high chairs.

“Emil, the children will freeze to death,” Beatrice protested.

“No they won’t. For the short time they’re out of the water, they’ll never even register the cold, and we’ll bundle them up in those long towels they have.”

“So when were you thinking of leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

(Thursday, November 5, 1891)

Wednesday, November 18, 1891

As was to be expected, Malik found Yi Song and two companions in the seats across from the privy in the last coach. In spite of the late -- actually early -- hour, he decided to wake them.

“Mister Yi.” Malik stood off a couple feet, speaking just loudly enough to be heard over the ambient train sounds.

Peng said, “Allow me, Master.” Malik nodded.

Peng said, in a slightly louder voice, “Yi xiansheng, qing zhu’yi’.” (“Mister Yi, your attention, please.” Representations of spoken Chinese have been simplified.)

The man’s eyes came open. He sat up and looked at Peng, then at Malik. Then he stood and bowed. “Mister Malik? What can I do for you?”

Malik bowed and said, “Greetings, Mister Yi. My apology for disturbing your rest. It is nearly two AM and they just attached my coach at Fort Birney. I have come to invite you to ride with us and to enjoy the beds and the refreshment we have available.”

Yi looked uncertain for a moment, then said, “That is very generous of you, sir.”

“Nonsense. You’ve come all this way to help us out. It is very meager generosity that I offer. Bring your companions and your baggage and join us in the next coach.”

Malik turned to leave. Peng said, “May I wait here for them, Master?”

Malik turned back and said, “Mister Yi, may I present Miss Peng Yan, my qie.”

Peng bowed. After a momentary hesitation, Yi returned the bow, saying, “It is an honor to finally meet you, Peng Cu guang.” (“..., First Light Peng.”)

Peng bowed again, and responded in English, “You honor me by your greeting, sir.”

Malik, seeming bemused, said, “Peng will wait to accompany you.” Then he turned and left the car.

Ten minutes later, Mister Wu had produced a tea service. Yi’s party had joined Malik and Peng in the lounge. Yi had introduced his quartermaster, Shi Yang, and his intelligence officer, Jin Zemin.

“I have been made a Sun Beam, in keeping with our society’s dawn metaphor,” Yi was explaining. “I now report directly to our headquarters officers, known, collectively, as the ‘New Day.’ More significantly, ours is a semi-autonomous operation, known as a Daylight. In practical effect, that makes us responsible for our own support in all aspects, including finance and intelligence. At the same time, I can recruit as many members as we can support. At present, that amounts to nineteen of us.” He glanced toward Peng. “I don’t suppose I could persuade First Light Peng to join our Daylight?”

“It would be my Master that you must persuade, Beam Yi,” Peng said.

Yi’s eyes grew wide for an instant, then he said. “Oh, I see.”

Malik said, “Peng is invaluable in my operations, both business and domestic. Among other functions, she heads my personal protection and is a consultant and trainer in the railroad’s security department. Moreover, she is the mother of twin two-year-old boys, my sons.”

“Twin sons. My congratulations, Mister Malik.”

“Thank you, Mister Yi. Have you taken a wife?”

“Shi Yang is my qie and has blessed me with a son, now of eighteen months.”

“Our congratulations to you both,” Malik said, smiling.

Shi smiled, stifling a simultaneous yawn.

Malik said, “We should all return to our rest. Did Peng show you the comfort facilities, as you entered?”

“She did.”

“Then would you and your qie care to share the guest cabin? We can offer a bunk cabin to Mister Jin. Please feel free to use the wash facilities at any time of the day or night while we are underway. The pressure is maintained by the movement of our wheels and any noise is lost to the sounds of our travel. I would only caution that the water use be limited as much as possible, as we only carry an eighty-five gallon supply of fresh water, pending a usual once-a-day refilling.”

“Those arrangements are more than suitable. Again, I thank you for your generosity.”

“Very well, then. Mister Wu will be serving breakfast between seven and eight o’clock. I plan to eat at seven-thirty. Coffee and water for tea will likely be found warm on the back of the stove at most times. If Mister Wu is not available, feel free to serve yourself. Is there anything else I can tell you about?”

Yi looked at his companions, then said, “I believe we will be quite comfortable.”

“Then I wish you a restful sleep.”

At breakfast, Malik explained, “The overall business picture seems to be shaping up much the same as it did twenty years ago, before what is known as the Panic of ‘Seventy-three. That resulted in a very serious economic depression. I imagine it was well before you arrived here. I understand it also affected England and Europe, but England especially. I don’t know if there would have been any effect in Hong Kong or not.

“In ‘seventy-three, I had just started college, at La Paz, where you and I first met. My father had started his ranch in Arenoso in ‘fifty-one, so by ‘seventy-three, it was mostly self-supporting. He was unable to sell many cattle or sheep, or much wool, so cash became tight. A legacy from my mother’s father helped keep me in school.

“Still, I remember how the railroads were reducing services, and so many men out of work, and families going hungry. We were lucky. The livestock we couldn’t sell, our people could at least eat. Pa gave the combined churches council in town a couple steers, or two or three sheep, every week to have butchered and distributed.” Malik shook his head, looking down at the table.

Looking up, again, he said, “But you really need to talk to Raul Castillo, our railroad’s general superintendent. He can explain this much better than I can. He’s expecting you, for just that purpose. Then he can tell you what we’re doing to prepare for it. He really has put a lot of thought into it.”

“Is that also why you wish to increase your intelligence gathering?” Yi asked.

“Precisely. The period after our Civil War saw rapid expansion of railroads. The problem was, the railroads expanded faster that the population and business needed to support them. Consequently, when business took a downturn in ‘seventy-three, railroads were among the hardest hit. We’re looking at exactly the same sort of situation today. Not only are railroads expanding purely on speculation, but they represent an even larger portion of the business economy than they have in the past.

“The K and ASR has always been conservative in its business ventures, but our operations depend on the success of other railroads, a handful of railroads in particular. We need to know what they are planning as this crisis approaches.”

Jin Zemin asked, “Have you considered hiring the Pinkerton Agency?”

“It was our first thought. But Pinkerton does significant business with railroads much larger than ours. I was concerned they might feel beholden to those railroads and so betray our inquiries to them. Nor would I feel confident of the information provided under such conditions.”

“No, I would not think so,” Jin said. “I simply wanted to know how you saw that possibility.” A medium height man of his race, Jin’s head, like Yi’s, was shaved except for the portion gathered into a knotted queue just behind the crown of his head. Doing his leader just slightly better, he spoke in virtually unaccented British idiom.

After a moment, Malik said, “As for our present security capabilities, Mister Jin, you might be well-advised to consult with Peng Yan. She has worked closely with Captain Bill McCroskey, the commander of the railroad’s Security Department, and with his headquarters staff, developing and improving some of our procedures. She has also been involved with their training, both with newly hired personnel as well as our refresher training.”

“I will, Mister Malik, thank you.”

(Wednesday, November 18, 1891)

Thursday, November 19, 1891

Castillo, and the executive committee members were already seated at one of the big tables in the canteen, when Peng brought in the group that had been meeting in a conference room on the second floor: Yi Song, Shi Yang, Jin Zemin, Bill McCroskey, Moira Daley, Mary Finnerman, Frank Tremaine, and Daley’s assistant, Sergeant Meng Zexi.

Malik made the introductions between Yi’s party and the executive committee members. He added, “Arnie and Pete are two of the men who partnered with Chen Ming-teh to start the K and ASR.”

Pete said, “We almost shot him, over a mining claim dispute. But he started talking and we started listening. Before we knew it, he was in charge of our mining business and we were hauling out gold by the wagon load.”

Yeats said “Then he sent Pete off to engineering school and our other partner, Fred Urban, to law school. Meanwhile, Ming taught me to be a salesman. Ming and Fred were real men, smart, honest, upstanding. We do miss ‘em.

Yi said, “I only knew Mister Chen for a few hours, before he was killed. He impressed me as a thoughtful leader.”

Malik said, “Let’s all go through the line and get our food. Then we can talk.”

After lunch, Yi Song and Shi Yang met with Castillo in his office to discuss his expectations of the anticipated fiscal crisis and what mitigating preparations the railroad was making.

Meanwhile, Malik had invited Jin Zemin, Moira Daley, and the rest of the security staff from lunch to meet in the Board Room. There, he invited Jin to take the seat at the head of the table, while he sat furthest down, in terms of status seating. He had Daley and McCroskey bracket Jin, within which trio the most likely interchanges would be expected to occur.

Jin brought Malik up to pace. He said, “We went over this in detail, earlier, but, in summary, there are two most dependable sources of intelligence: documents and surveillance.