Calder frowned. “That information was secret. But yes, the quartermaster chose to contract with the Mohawk builders. A gesture of respect to our woodland brethren. But the drawings for it would have been surrendered on delivery of the vehicle.”
“As I would expect. But someone made a second set and it was kept even more secretly. When they were no longer of use, the schoolmaster must have found them and salvaged the paper for his students.”
Calder made a gesture of dismissal toward the papers. “What purpose would a second set of plans serve?” he asked. “The pay chest was impregnable. It could only be opened with two different keys, which had been sent north with different dispatch riders the week before.”
“Keys that did not work,” Duncan stated.
Calder offered no disagreement.
“A second wagon was built with the same secrecy as the first,” Duncan continued. “An identical wagon. The Mohawk builders did not suspect anything because it was arranged for, and paid for, by officers in uniform, perhaps even the same officers. They were building another for his majesty as far as they knew.”
The general went very still.
“It would have taken them at least three months to build,” Duncan continued. “Add a month for the second set of drawings to be made and sent to them, say a month of planning. Meaning the scheme was hatched just after the defeat of the French at Quebec. What was it the French needed most then?”
“A few thousand regular soldiers and a few tons of munitions.”
“All of which are expected soon, with the arrival of their next fleet any day now. Which means all they really needed was time. They’re getting it. What they did was to assure you lost confidence in your troops, in your ability to act swiftly in delivering the killing stroke. The theft of the payroll was meant to change the tide of war.”
The general looked like he had bitten something very sour. He lifted the bottle as if to fill his mug once more then lowered it. “You have an active imagination, sir.” There was no confidence in his voice.
Duncan balanced a structure out of the cards on the table, two walls and a roof. “Those involved knew the routine, knew the wagon’s schedule and that it would stop for a meal at the settlement.” He took a draught piece and pushed it inside the card structure. “The second wagon waited in the barn. Some of the escorts were part of the conspiracy, including the driver. The others went inside for the meal.” He pushed a second draught piece into the back of the house of cards. “The paywagon was driven into the far end of the barn, the horse team switched to the new wagon and driven out.” He extended a finger and pulled out the wooden disc. “It would not have been difficult to make the new wagon look road worn-just throw some dirt on it, maybe add a scratch or two. The only one who would likely notice a difference would have been the driver.”
Woolford muttered a curse. “He was one of those reported as a deserter.”
The general frowned again. “You suggest I should act based on such wild speculation?”
Duncan reached into his waistcoat pocket and dropped a musket ball on the table. “I cut this out of Conawago’s shoulder two hours before we arrived at Bethel Church. A bateau fired on us. We thought it an honest mistake by a British vessel, carrying military cargo north. But this is not the seventy-seven caliber of a British Brown Bess.”
Woolford scooped up the ball, weighing it in his palm before lifting it to his eye, then nodding. “Seventy-two,” the ranger declared. “A French bullet.”
“The stolen wagon was on the bateau,” Duncan continued, “without its wheels. One of the wheels was used to drown the dispatch rider. The others will be on the bottom too, in a line going north from that dock. They tricked the inhabitants of Bethel Church with a false contract. They tricked the army into thinking the original wagon was in the North. They tricked anyone looking at the bateau into thinking it was on army business. It is the imagination of your enemies you should worry about. They have been playing you exceedingly well.”
Calder bristled. “What are you saying?” he demanded.
The reply came from the shadows. “What he is saying, General, is that you think you have this beast by the throat when in fact all you have is the tail.” William Johnson emerged from a second, darkened chamber.
“I am going north,” Calder snapped to Duncan, as if he had to explain himself. “Johnson and I will crush the French beast if I have to lead every battle myself.”
Duncan and Woolford exchanged worried glances. Johnson poured himself some applejack.
“Then the beast has already won.”
The general looked up in surprise. Conawago had at last spoken. Duncan would not long forget the stare the old Nipmuc fixed on Calder. Along with cool anger was an unexpected pity.
Calder’s face flushed with color. He had swallowed enough pride. Being baldly rebuked was too much. Duncan saw him glance at the door, where his provost brutes waited.
Duncan’s own words came out with more acid than he intended. He would not let Calder harm Conawago. “You listen like a British general. What is needed is an American general.”
Venom rose in Calder’s eyes.
“The French did not steal your payroll,” Duncan said. “They simply cooperated with the thieves.”
“You said it was raiders!” Calder spat.
“If the French had the money,” Woolford inserted, “they would be spreading bounties so fast every settler in Canada would be racing to join them at Montreal. Our reports say instead they have trouble keeping their existing militia from deserting.”
Calder stared into his mug for several long breaths then turned to Duncan. “Tell me what you mean to do, McCallum.”
“Five Iroquois children were kidnapped by the thieves. I thought at first it was just an afterthought, that some warriors saw an opportunity to win a few pelts in the slave market. But now I understand. Taking those children was as important to the raiders as taking the king’s silver.”
“What do you mean to do?” Calder repeated.
“The coins were meant to reach the French, but it was never a French conspiracy. The half-king is at the center of this. To him the French are only a stepping-stone. What he needs, what he must have, is the Iroquois Council. Silver means nothing to the Council. The children are the descendants of the Council, future members of the Council. They are the real treasure of the Iroquois. I am going north with my Haudenosaunee friends to save five innocent children.”
“Five innocent children,” the general repeated in a mocking tone.
“I admire your charitable instincts,” Johnson offered as he lifted the candle to light his pipe. “But the lives of every European and half the Haudenosaunee will be forfeit if we don’t stop this damned half-king. We have been so obsessed with the French that we have let this monster rise up right under our noses. He has slipped past and is closing in on the Saint Lawrence. Once he truly combines with the French, our path to Montreal is blocked. They will close the choke points on the river, and our campaign will be finished. Once he combines,” Johnson added, “the French will have King’s George’s treasure.”
“Without the children,” Conawago inserted, “the half-king does not have the Iroquois. Without the Iroquois his plans fail.”
Calder had had too much. “Ridiculous! Do not presume to teach me about diplomacy! You will not go another mile north!” the general barked. “I have sent trained emissaries to treat with the renegade. My nephew Marston is a lieutenant on my personal staff and is seasoned as a diplomat in the Low Countries. This damned mischief maker will be bought off like every other savage, and I will rally my troops to finish this war.”
“Have you heard nothing I’ve said?” Duncan demanded. “The Revelator is not acting alone. He has powerful allies. He is convinced that he has a destiny of greatness. He will not treat with you. There is only one authority that troubles him, only one that will cause him to hesitate.”