Read Chapter 7: THE FALSE COLUMN

On Thursday, no British forage column marched west from Kingsbridge.

Instead, a smaller force moved east toward White Plains.

A Continental detachment waiting near Dobbs Ferry found nothing but rain, mud, and British cavalry scouts who had been warned to expect them.

Three rebels were killed. Seven captured.

Elias learned this from Harcourt.

“You sent the message faithfully,” the major said.

They were walking near the Battery under a bright, cold sky. British warships lay at anchor in the harbor. The Statue of George III had long since been torn down by patriots, but the city still carried the king in uniforms, proclamations, flags, and fear.

“I sent what you gave me,” Elias replied.

“And Hart believed it.”

Elias stopped walking.

Harcourt continued three steps before turning.

“You know the name.”

“Of course.”

“How?”

“You are not the only man who intercepts messages.”

“Who is Hart?”

“If I knew, I might tell you.”

Harcourt studied him.

“You truly don’t.”

“No.”

“Interesting.”

“What happened to the captured men?”

“Questioned.”

“And?”

“One mentioned a merchant source in New York.”

Elias felt the harbor wind bite through his coat.

“Under torture?”

“Under persuasion.”

“British vocabulary improves every year.”

Harcourt ignored it.

“He did not know your name. But he described a chain that begins with commercial bills.”

“Half the city’s secret messages begin with commercial bills.”

“Which is why merchants remain so tiresome.”

They resumed walking.

“Now,” Harcourt said, “I want you to send Hart a second report.”

“No.”

Harcourt glanced sideways.

“No?”

“The first report killed men.”

“That has troubled you?”

“It has damaged my value. Hart will test everything I send.”

“A sensible objection.”

“I need a true report.”

“Do you?”

“One sufficiently useful to restore trust.”

Harcourt smiled faintly.

“You are asking British intelligence to provide genuine military information to the rebels.”

“I am asking you whether you prefer a channel or a corpse.”

For several seconds only gulls spoke.

Then Harcourt laughed.

“You are magnificent when frightened.”

“I am expensive when frightened.”

“Very well. A convoy of winter clothing leaves Staten Island on Monday for a depot near Morrisania. The route is real. The cargo is real. The escort will be stronger than usual.”

“A baited truth.”

“All truth is bait to someone.”

Elias nodded.

“Why keep me alive?”

Harcourt’s expression changed slightly.

“Because you have convinced both sides that you are less loyal than you are.”

“I am loyal to my family.”

“Yes. That is what makes you predictable.”

The sentence remained with Elias all afternoon.

Predictable.

He had built his entire system on the belief that armies misunderstood commerce. Soldiers thought merchants greedy, cowardly, flexible. Elias had used those assumptions as camouflage.

But Harcourt now understood the center of him.

Family.

A predictable center was a handle.

At Warehouse Two, Nathaniel was missing.

His clerk said he had gone to inspect a damaged lighter at the East River landing. No lighter was damaged.

Elias found the back storeroom unlocked. Six flour barrels were gone.

He swore once, quietly.

Amos appeared in the doorway.

“Your brother?”

“Yes.”

“How much?”

“Six barrels.”

“Enough to hang a man for aiding the enemy.”

“Enough to hang several.”

They stood in silence.

“Can we replace them before inspection?” Amos asked.

“Yes.”

“Will that solve it?”

“No.”

Elias looked at the empty spaces.

Nathaniel had done more than steal flour. He had created a route Harcourt could follow directly to the family.

“Find him,” Elias said.

Amos nodded.

“And Elias?”

“Yes?”

“You need to decide whether you are saving the business or the boy.”

“He is twenty-seven.”

“To me, all of you are boys.”

Elias turned toward him.

“What would Father do?”

Amos considered.

“Your father would bribe the first man, threaten the second, lie to the third, and then pretend Providence had intervened.”

“That sounds familiar.”

“Yes.” Amos’s eyes softened. “And eventually it killed him.”