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behind. The giant slave pulled Pudding away and slammed his skull into a bulkhead. Pudding died at my feet.
    â€œBetter get on with it, mister.” said the slave. “If you’re gonna stop the boss and all.”
    My telegraph to Chicago was as detailed as I could manage. I sent it to Robert and prayed he would prove to be more than just a meddling son with a taste for metal toys.
    The slave and I stepped out when the gunfire stopped.
    â€œFollow me.” He said.
    We approached the edge of the platform. Three stories below there was a suggestion of a shadow of something that might, if we were lucky, break our fall.
    He jumped. I lost track of him in the darkness.
    There were no screams. If he was dead, at least it was quick.
    Before stepping off, I looked at the train. Hunt’s men had separated lead cars from the cargo boxes. It wouldn’t take them long to reach Lincoln.
    Through the open end of the last car, sawed in half to break it loose, I locked eyes with Saul. Like Hunt to Webster, he said something to me but I was too far to hear.
    I jumped from the track. That was my last act in service to this contract.
    *   *   *
    Robert Pinkerton
    February, 1861
    Ginny Higgs knocked on my door.
    â€œTelegraph for you.”
    I had not expected to hear from Stark. I thought news of an attack against PWB would reach our offices. At that point, I would learn that Stark played some role in minimizing the damage or taking Hunt into custody.
    I pictured a reconciliation with Father. I would explain my data. New views on detective techniques would be entertained. We would find common ground.
    I believed those things. Maybe I am as big an idiot as Father thinks.
    Robert Pinkerton: - Urgent. Depot at Richmond ransacked. Hunt has acquired a train, moving north. Webster murdered by Hunt. Learned the truth. Lincoln to be killed en route to Philadelphia. Hunt equipped with Union machines. You must intercept.
    - E. Stark
    It was fantastical news. I had difficulty believing one rascal from Louisiana could pose a threat to the President of the United States. I also doubted Stark. He had been recommended under duress. Maybe the case had gone too far.
    Ginny Higgs screamed from the floor above. The sound of heavy boots pounded through the ceiling. Men stomped to all corners of the office. Father barked in outrage.
    â€œExplain yourself, Sergeant!” He said.
    â€œGet back, Pinkerton. Your boy is coming to New York on order of the court.”
    The world had gone mad. That a judge in New York authorized police to seize me in Chicago bordered on slapstick.
    Footsteps echoed in the stairwell. Father entered my office and locked the door.
    â€œGinny has barred herself in your former quarters. They think it is you.” He said. “Our solicitor will accompany you to New York.”
    I handed him the telegraph from Stark.
    â€œRobert, this is not the time.”
    He read it once then looked at me in disbelief. After a second reading, his chin dropped onto his chest.
    In a sense, this was the moment I had always wanted. Webster had been killed but that wasn’t my fault. Stark had picked up the case. He sent crucial information about a plot against the President. These events stemmed from my use of the new technology.
    I had been right. It broke my father’s heart.
    A door splintered above. Ginny screamed again.
    Father must have been tempted to hand me to police. The case would have been under his control again. The son he could no longer trust would be out of his sight.
    He swept items from my desk into a bag then pushed me out of the office. We ran around a corner, past pallets of unused machines, to a loading dock in the storage garage.
    â€œKate Warne is in Philadelphia with Felton.” He said. “I will send word. She will be prepared when you arrive. Take the interceptor.”
    â€œPapa.”
    â€œBe quiet, boy.” He said. “Go!”
    If I could change one