"Me, either," Sean agreed.
"I'm sure both of you are familiar with the assassination attempt on the secretary's life the same night Lincoln was shot," Johnstone said, keeping his place on the top step.
"I know the story," Tommy said. "It was crazy how well planned the entire thing was. So many moving parts, the timing had to be perfect, and then there was the problem of security."
"Yes. The secretary actually had more security on hand than usual that night. He was in his bed recovering from a carriage accident. The would-be assassin severely hurt some of his guards and scared his wife half to death. It's a miracle Secretary Seward survived."
"Stabbed in the neck, right?" Sean asked, already knowing the answer.
"Correct. They said the knife barely missed the arteries and veins. Difficult to believe back then, with the lack of medical knowledge and technology, he was able to survive. Perhaps that's a tribute to the way people were back then. They were tougher, hardier."
"Survivors," Sean said.
"Exactly."
Johnstone turned to continue his descent with Tommy right behind him when Sean stopped them both again.
"I'm sorry, Gary. But what's this in the painting?"
"What's what?"
Sean leaned in close to the image to stare at something in the fleeing man's hand. It looked like a rolled-up piece of paper.
"That," Sean said, putting his finger an inch from the canvas. He was careful not to touch it.
Johnstone stepped back up onto the second floor and wedged between the two visitors. He leaned in like Sean was doing and narrowed his eyes. "Oh, that. Yes. That night, witnesses said that the assassin stole something from Seward's study. No one is really sure what it was. We assume it was valuable, perhaps some bonds or a property deed. It's all conjecture at this point. Anyone who knew any details about it has been dead for a long time."
Sean straightened up and twisted his head, facing the other two. "Seems a little strange, doesn't it?"
"Strange?" Johnstone asked.
"Yeah. I mean, this guy came up here to western New York, all the way from Washington, to kill Seward. Just seems a bit odd that during what must have been a pretty rushed getaway that he'd take the time to swing by the study and steal something."
Tommy nodded. "That is weird."
Johnstone was the last to put the pieces together. "Are you thinking that piece of paper in the assassin's hand is the map you're looking for?"
"It's just an odd piece to the story. These guys plan out the assassination to a T. They get all the details, know where their mark will be and when. Then one of them goes in, doesn't manage to kill a bedridden guy, hurts some of his guards, and then you would imagine flees into the night in a panic. But no, he stops on his way out and grabs something."
"Or maybe after he took out the guy at the door, he went to the study first and then attempted to kill Seward," Tommy said.
"Either way, it's fishy." Sean turned his head and faced Johnstone. He was so close he could smell the cheap aftershave on the guy's skin. "And you have no way to know for sure what that was?" he asked, pointing a finger at the painting.
"Sorry, Sean," he said, shaking his head.
Sean sighed.
"Another dead end," Tommy said.
"Unless…" Johnstone let the word linger in the hallway. The other two looked at him as if their gaze could pull the words out of his mouth.
"Unless what?" Sean asked.
The two visitors could see the wheels turning from the look in the curator's eyes. "Unless he took it back to Washington."
Chapter 19
"Back to Washington?" Sean asked.
"Yes," Johnstone said with a nod. "After Lewis Powell tried to kill the secretary of state, he took off on foot since his partner got scared and left with the horses. Somehow, Powell found a way back to Washington to their rendezvous point at Mary Surratt's boarding house. That's where he was arrested the next day. It's possible that whatever he took from here might — I reiterate, might — be hidden somewhere in Washington. Possibly even in the Surratt house."
Sean and Tommy exchanged a knowing glance.
"Yeah, except the Surratt house is a Chinese restaurant now," Sean said.
"Yes." Johnstone hung his head. "Sadly, not every historically significant building can be saved from being destroyed or turned into a sweet-and-sour palace."
The two friends chuckled.
"Most buildings like that have already been torn down or repurposed. Such a shame."
"That doesn't mean Powell didn't hide something there," Tommy said. He had a tone of hope in his voice. "If it was hidden well enough, maybe it's never been found. There's got to be a chance, right?"
Sean shrugged. "I guess so. Normally, I wouldn't have a problem with going down to DC and probing someone's restaurant for a hidden map. In this instance, though, it's going to be tricky."
"Tricky?" Johnstone asked.
"Because," Tommy quickly jumped in, "we've driven so far and haven't really slept. It's several hours back down to Washington."
"Oh. Well, in that case, you two should get a room at the inn nearby. I'm sure they'll have vacancies during this time of year. We don't get too many tourists in the dead of winter."
"Thanks," Sean said. "We'll look into it. And thank you for all your help, Gary. We really appreciate it."
"Not a problem, fellas. I need to get going. Don't hesitate to drop by again if you need." The curator started back down the steps but once more stopped and looked back at the two visitors. "You know, it's weird us talking about the Seward and Lincoln assassination, seeing what happened yesterday and all."
Tommy and Sean exchanged puzzled glances.
"What do you mean?" Sean asked.
Johnstone searched both men's faces to make sure they weren't messing with him. "The assassination attempt on President Dawkins. Everyone's talking about it. Surely, you heard."
"Someone tried to kill the president?" Tommy asked, a sudden fleck of concern seeping into his voice.
"You two really don't know?"
They shook their heads at the same time.
"We were on the road," Sean said. "Took a while to get here."
Johnstone's eyes went from one to the other and back again like he was watching the fastest tennis match ever played. "You don't listen to the radio?"
"Satellite. No commercials. No interruptions."
The curator sighed. "Well, apparently someone set up a gun in the ballroom where the president was to give a speech. They used some kind of mechanism to fire the weapon remotely. The police found a suspect in an alley not far from the hotel where it went down. Seems he was trying to get away, shot a cop, and then the other police took him down."
"He's dead?" Tommy asked.
Johnstone nodded. "Yep. He shot a cop. They took him down. Sounds like that was their guy. They found evidence on the scene that linked him to the attempted assassination along with more evidence in his apartment."
"What about President Dawkins?"
"It was the wildest thing. He was rushed out of there unscathed. Didn't even get a scratch. Some brunette charged the stage and tackled him. She saved his life. There's video footage of it on the internet. Everyone's talking about it, and no one knows who she is or where she went."
Sean's immediate thoughts went to Adriana. It had to be her. Sean and Tommy knew about the threat. So far, they'd played the ignorant role perfectly with Johnstone. That was due, in part, to the fact that they really didn't know the attempt to take the president's life had already happened. Sean was surprised at the speed with which these men operated, in spite of years working on the inside of the government. Axis always took care of things with calculated speed. Not all the other pieces were so efficient.