Chapter 21 #2
“No. And for that I am sorry. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I do wish you would.
I know from bitter experience that holding on to the wrongs done to you only serves to make you bitter and hard-hearted.
You don’t want to be that way. Although, I suppose a certain amount of that has driven you to continue hunting me. ”
“I became a Pinkerton with nothing else in mind.” Spencer felt his anger fade. He didn’t know if he could forgive this old man, but for the first time since his father’s death, Spencer was willing to contemplate the matter.
“I’m sure you’ve been a good one. How did you find me here?”
“Letters. Your mother kept your letters, despite you telling her at the end of each one to burn them. Your scheme of having them sent through friends living elsewhere was brilliant. We searched those various towns thoroughly hoping to find you.”
“I was quite the trickster in my youth. I figured someone would be watching my mother’s house and mail.
There was never really any way for her to write to me in return without risking the truth.
I could send letters to my friends and include letters for her, but the minute she had an address to write to .
. . well, that would have been the end of things.
The Pinkertons and local law would have harangued my friends until they gave up the truth of things.
In many ways, I lost my mother the day your father died. ”
“We could never read the letters, of course, but when your mother died, whoever cleaned out her things threw them away. Our people took them and read them for every detail. That’s how we realized you were in Cheyenne and probably always had been since 1870.”
“That’s true. I moved around the first few years.
That’s when I established good friends who would help me in forwarding the letters to my mother.
You see, the only reason me and my brothers ever bounty jumped was to provide for our mother.
The war presented an easy way to get a good deal of money without much effort.
We each did our part, and it helped us to buy her a house and see her fed and clothed.
We didn’t want it for ourselves. It was always about her. ”
Spencer hadn’t known what had prompted the illegal activities of the Astor brothers. Though knowing it wasn’t for personal gain but for taking care of their mother didn’t change the fact that it was against the law and had caused a lot of problems for others.
“My father was determined to see you pay for your law breaking.” Spencer shook his head. “I don’t think he ever knew it was for anything other than greed. Not that it would have stopped him.”
“No, I don’t suppose so.” Astor’s face betrayed signs of pain as his brow wrinkled, and he closed his eyes. He put his hand up to rub at the center of his forehead for several silent minutes.
“Never doubt,” he finally said, “that I’m getting my payback.
When the symptoms first started, I went to the doctors.
They were completely baffled at first and then came up with the idea that I had an inoperable brain tumor.
I don’t think they ever understood how appropriate that seemed to me.
I thought it almost like God reaching down to deliver the final blow.
I’d killed your father with a shot to the head, and now this tumor was in my head, killing me. The irony was not lost on me.”
Spencer realized that he had nothing more to say.
Astor had explained away all of his questions.
There was really no need to tell him how much he’d hurt Spencer and his mother.
Astor already knew. It should comfort Spencer to know that Astor had suffered over the years .
. . had been haunted by the moments when he murdered another man.
But it didn’t, and it couldn’t bring Pa back. Neither would seeing the man hang.
To his surprise, Astor pushed back the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed as he sat up.
“I have something I need to give to you.”
“Stay in bed. I can fetch it.”
Astor shook his head. He got to his feet and padded in old-man fashion across the floor to the small chest of drawers in the corner of the room. He pulled out the top drawer.
“I’ve kept meticulous records. You need to know about my further illegal activities.” Astor swayed slightly as he took a thick book from the chest. “I had figured to ask your wife to have you come see me so I could get this off my chest and be done with it.”
Spencer got to his feet and moved toward the man, fearing he might fall at any moment. Astor straightened, however, and steadied himself with one hand while extending the book to Spencer.
“This is a record of every penny I stole from the Union Pacific. I had arranged to send it to my mother when I died, but when I learned she was dead, I had no need. They’ll want it back.
In fact, there are rewards given by the UP for those who expose wrongdoings.
You should be able to get something for this.
There are twenty years’ worth of my dealings and embezzlements recorded there.
“And where’s the money?” Spencer took the book.
“In the bank. The name and account is listed at the beginning. Actually, there are two accounts. One is my personal account, and the other contains the money I stole. I’ve done very well for myself.
I was once considered something of a money genius.
Had I done more to stay on the legal side of things, who knows what kind of financial baron I might have become. ”
“I wish you had.”
Astor met his gaze. “I wish I had too. At least as far as it concerns you and your pa.” He shook his head.
“Nothing I do will ever right that wrong, but maybe getting the Union Pacific reward will help you to have a better life. My lawyer will be talking to you about the rest of my things. His name is Colton Benton.”
Spencer recognized the name of Rosie Vogel’s brother. “Your lawyer will talk to me?”
“Yes. He’s handling my affairs, and it includes that sweet wife of yours. She’s been such a kind soul. Her concerns about my disease and pain were truly beyond what I had anticipated. She’s a brilliant woman, and I have no doubt she’ll go far with her research.”
“I don’t either. It’s been hard for her. Most men are opposed to her being in their field of work.”
Astor moved toward the bed. “She’ll be better for it. Her strength is what will get her through.”
“Her faith in God is more likely to help.”
The older man stopped and nodded. “She is a virtuous woman, more valuable than rubies, as the Proverbs state. She spoke to me of her faith on one occasion. Reminded . . . it reminded . . . me of my . . . mother.” He swayed and then fell to the ground.
Spencer dropped the ledger and came to where Astor had fallen. Carrie was there almost immediately.
“What happened? What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything.” Spencer lifted the man and carried him to the bed. “He got up to get me that ledger.” He nodded toward the book on the floor. “He was on his way back to the bed when he passed out.”
Carrie began checking him over. Spencer could see there was a knot growing on his forehead where he’d struck the edge of the nightstand.
She glanced across the bed to Spencer. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound accusing.” Her attention went immediately back to her patient. “Mr. Knowles?” She patted his face. “Mr. Knowles.”
“His name is Eugene Astor,” Spencer said with great resignation. His search had come to an end.