At Bull Run

By Paul Westwood

The second book in the Blackwood Series. A wealthy man hires Jack Blackwood to find the murderer of his only son, who had recently joined a newly-formed Union cavalry regiment. In a city crowded with temptation, the investigation uncovers a killer who is targeting prostitutes and soldiers alike, causing panic in the ranks. Only Jack's wits and the power of the Colt can put a stop to the killings.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Paul Westwood
• Release date: Oct 17, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466198418

Paul Westwood

Born in a time that is quickly becoming only a memory, Paul Westwood is an author of several genres, with a concentration on horror and historical fiction in the style of the vintage Gold Medal series. A graduate of Miskatonic University, Mr. Westwood also take an active interest in jabbernowling and boondoggling. He spends most of his other hours writing, listening to obscure music, and finding a good place to take a nap.

Book preview

At Bull Run

A Jack Blackwood mystery

By Paul Westwood

Additional Text by Ann Robinson

Copyright 2011 Paul Westwood

Published at Smashwords

Book cover source is from a

September 6, 1862 Harper’s Weekly illustration

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Prologue

Gaining consciousness, Lieutenant James Folks awoke to darkness. Groggily, he reached around to find that his hands were tied behind his back. Stretching his numb hands as far as they could go, he could just feel the stomach of the girl lying next to him on the bed. He mumbled frantically through the gag wrapped around his mouth, but she did not respond. Her stomach was wet, but from what, Folks could not tell. He suspected she was dead since he could not hear her breathe. Trying to roll off the bed, he discovered that his feet had also been trussed tightly.

The last thing he remembered was entering her small home and finding the front door ajar. He thought that she must have been expecting him. He had walked in feeling elated. She was a beautiful girl and had taught him pleasures that he had never known even existed. He remembered walking into the room and seeing her tied up, looking at him with pleading eyes. After that, there had been a blow to the back of his head, and he fell into darkness.

James was forced back into the present by hearing approaching footsteps. He pulled desperately on his bonds again but still could not free his hands. He heard a man’s heavy breathing and the presence of someone standing over him. A match suddenly flared in the dark, and an oil lamp next to the bed was lit. James blinked hard in the sudden glare of light. He could see a man wearing a black hangman’s hood. Two slits were cut out for eyes which were hidden in shadow. Seized with terror, James pulled harder on the ropes and tried to twist away. He managed to turn his body towards the girl, and his eyes widened with terror as he saw that she was nude and covered in blood.

The man laughed as he saw the struggling. He pulled out a long cavalry sword and said, You shall be good sport for my sword, Lieutenant. Don’t bother to cry out or struggle. No one can hear you now.

The blade rose and cut cruelly across the lieutenant’s chest. He screamed as loud as he could through his gag. It came out as a muffled grunt, and he arched his body up as the sword was raised again. The cords bit tightly into his wrists. The red fires of pain swirled in front of his eyes.

Now feel my punishment, the hooded man whispered.

Chapter 1

With his arm lying loosely over his eyes, Jack Blackwood desperately tried to fall asleep on his sweat-stained bed. The morning summer sunlight glared through his worn, moth-holed curtains and shined directly into his eyes. He groaned and turned away from the window and drew the dirty covers over his head. He felt like hell. Swallowing hard, the back of his throat felt dusty and unbelievably dry. Summer had been hot this year, and it drove many men to drink. He was honest with himself and realized that he was one of those men. He had spent the night at the local saloon and had drunk whiskey until he could drink no more. Somehow, Jack had come home, though he couldn’t be certain what route he’d taken to get there, and fallen into his bed before passing out.

The faint smell of fried food reached his nostrils. Jack’s stomach growled as he thought of hot eggs and bacon. After a brief battle between sleep and hunger, his stomach won. He crawled out of bed. He clumsily opened the door and staggered, still half-drunk, in the direction of the kitchen.

Ezra looked up from his breakfast and frowned as his partner entered, holding himself up against the wall. You look terrible, he commented blandly. Ezra, an ex-slave, was Jack’s business partner of many years, and by now wasn’t surprised to see him still drunk in the morning.

Jack felt ill and noticed that his hands were shaking. The pounding in his head was getting worse, and he grabbed the kitchen chair with one hand. He rubbed his grizzled chin before replying, I feel like hell, Ezra. Is there any food left?

I was hoping you would find the strength and crawl out of that bed of yours. I made some extra food just in case you took a chance and decided to face the day.

I thank you, the detective replied graciously as he could manage.

Go ahead and sit down, Ezra said as he rose. He grabbed a chipped mug and poured out some coffee for Jack. I’ll go and make a plate for you.

Coffee would be good - plenty of coffee.

His partner nodded and placed a full mug in front of Jack, who began to cautiously sip at the hot drink. Ezra then scooped some eggs and bacon out for Jack and put it before him.

Jack put his coffee cup down and studied the plate of greasy food before him. His stomach churned uncomfortably. I’m not sure if I can even eat right now. It looks good, mind you, but my stomach says otherwise.

Take it easy and have a few bites. Then you’ll find out if you’re hungry or not. There’s plenty of time to find out.

The detective ate slowly at first and then began to eat greedily until the plate was empty. He crudely wiped his chin with his sleeve and drank two more cups of coffee. He began to feel better and was sure after some further sleep he could manage to blink without hurt.

Ezra watched in silence while smoking a cigarette.

After Jack finished, he pushed the plate away and leaned back in his chair. He patted his heavy stomach in appreciation. I guess I was hungrier than I thought. His voice had a trace of embarrassment for he knew that his friend was never a hard drinker.

I hope you are feeling better now, Ezra remarked. It’s time you forget that girl and move on with your life.

I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jack said lamely. Last spring he had taken a case concerning the missing son of a retired congressman. He had become romantically involved with the congressman’s daughter –a woman named Faith Hanson - but was forced to break off the relationship. It had been hard to leave her but he had no choice in the matter.

Don’t lie to me, his partner snapped. You’ve been moping around here and drinking yourself sick every night. The money is getting low, and I don’t look forward to living in the gutter again.

Oh, we aren’t doing that bad, Jack lied. His nervous stomach began to churn violently and he gulped nervously. He knew that Ezra was right but did not want to admit it.

Ezra handed over a cigarette and lit it for his partner with a single swipe of the match. Have you looked into our account books lately? With your constant drinking, we’re getting near to being broke again. I’m not sure if we can even make next month’s rent.

Jack stood up quickly, his face flushed with anger. Damn it, man! You’re worse than an old woman. Now leave me be.

I’m not your servant. I’m just telling you what I’m seeing with my own eyes. And right now I’m seeing a drunk who is feeling very sorry for himself.

Something is bound to turn up. It always does sooner or later. Jack felt dizzy and sat down again, the room spinning. He puffed hard on the cigarette, trying to gain his composure back.

Something already has turned up for us, Ezra said in a low voice. I just hope you can handle it right now. While you were sleeping it off this morning, Henry Garrett stopped by to see if you were around.

What did Henry want of me? The detective asked. Garrett was an old friend who was in command of the City Watch, and Jack hadn’t seen him since the last case. Perhaps the captain was still angry that a murdered had gone free.

Oh, Henry told me a little about it. It looks like another case of disappearance. You know it seems that Washington isn’t becoming safe for anyone these days. I told Henry we would be there as soon as possible.

You could have woken me up.

Ezra snorted derisively and said, Henry was a little worried when I told him that you were still sleeping. He guessed soon enough that you were out late last night getting drunk. He knows you as well as I do.

Jack felt angry hearing of the two of them talking behind his back like that. That old fool worries about me as much as you do. Why don’t the both of you stay out of my business?

Henry may be an old man, but you aren’t much younger. I’ll make it my business if I want to get paid anytime soon.

Jack stubbed out his cigarette and studied his friend’s face but didn’t say anything.

Ezra looked him in the eyes, his face softening. I know you’re hurting something bad inside. Some men put a brave face on their heartache. Other men just try to kill the pain inside with whiskey. I know you’ll eventually come around or die trying. He no longer met Jack’s gaze and fiddled with his matches instead. He then lit another cigarette for himself and began gathering up the dishes on the table.

The detective smiled, suddenly feeling less dizzy. Those are some pretty words my friend. I’m not sure I can even believe a single word of it.

Ezra returned his gaze and almost imperceptibly shrugged his shoulders. I don’t care what you think. I just want to keep a roof over my head and keep on eating. We’re partners in this business and I can’t make any money without you doing your part of the job.

Jack reflected to himself that his friend was right: It must be near impossible for an ex-slave to get work as a detective. You really are a heartless bastard when you get down to it. I’ll go clean up first and get ready to visit Henry. Jack steadily got up on his feet and made his way back to his bedroom. He still felt bad inside, but felt he could function enough to make it over to the City Watch. He also knew that his friend was right about the girl, but right now he didn’t care either way.

With a smile, Ezra began washing the plates.

Miss Keller's diary, excerpted

July 13, morning

It seems so long since my dear James has been gone. When he decided to enlist I was so proud and nervous, and I prayed for the best. His father did everything he could to help, doing his best to assure our families about the future. I kept myself from worrying by sewing and knitting some personal items for James. I thought he might like some gloves and a muffler. The weather was cold enough then as they were getting ready, but things have changed so much. Now that I’m getting ready to surprise my darling with these presents, the sky is hot and blue and humid. No matter the weather, my spirits cannot be dampened: I am thrilled to leave New York and I must admit the idea of seeing the Capital is very exciting.

But if I am honest with myself, I am not sure how I feel about seeing James. I am sure being a soldier has changed him somewhat, but will it have changed him enough, so that I truly love him. James and I do love each other, I know. His family and mine have known each other for years. And when he proposed to me, I was relieved, since I knew my family would be pleased. But I always wished I had felt more for him. Now that he has been gone for so long, I am anxious that he will be able to tell, and see that he deserves more.

I am glad that Mister Folks is my chaperon for the trip. He has his business to attend to and although I know he wants to see his son James as well as I do, I think my nervousness will be more easily ignored by him than it would be by someone else. Not to imply that Mister Folks is insensitive. Really I think he is mostly a typical business man. I had thought that my mother would insist that I have another woman to accompany me, but we have known the Folkses so long I assume he'll treat me like his daughter. Also it is nice to have a man to walk with through the train stations, since we came this way. I think my parents were hoping that we'd take a stage, but really that would take such a long time, and the train service can be dependable.

Later

A most upsetting thing has occurred. James is nowhere to be found! I am so upset I know I shall not relate the story accurately but after we came to Washington we eventually managed to find the 27th New York. It was a frustrating trip through the city to get there though. We had no chance of seeing anything properly on our way to the camp. As we rode through the city, my heart leapt up when I first saw a soldier the same build as James, but then I realized it was someone else. There are so many soldiers in the town, all looking smart and ready in their uniforms, that I hurt my neck turning it so often to see if I could spot him. Mister Folks, who has been here before and recently too I come to find out, did a fair job of locating the camp once we asked an officer where they were. I could tell he was getting a little bit out of temper at times with the slowness of our carriage. It was the only one we could find, strangely enough, when we left the train. Perhaps all the Army wagons I see were once carriages.

Once we did drive up to the gate of the camp, I was so nervous. It had been so long since I had seen James. I was not really sure I really did know what he looked like after all. And there are so many pretty girls about the town I'm not sure how I compare to them. Well anyway, James was not there, otherwise I'd be writing about how glad he was to see me, how surprised and happy, and how we held each other and that all my doubts about marrying him were gone, melted away like some snow on an April morning. His captain said he had not yet returned from the previous night. Mister Folks and I are now stationed at a hotel waiting to get word from this captain. He says he will get in touch with us the moment James returns. Honestly, the captain, an uncouth man if I ever saw one, I think his name was Elspeth, was almost as angry as Mister Folks was on learning that James was not in the camp. As for James's father, I have never seen him so full of fury. He threatened to hire an investigator to find James. The captain cautioned that there was no reason to jump to conclusions, but I think Mister Folks just might have. Perhaps he also (and maybe I am jumping to a conclusion now) is a little mad at himself for not having visited before, like when he was in Washington the last time. He says there would never have been time for it. So, my nervous state remains, and I continue to wait to see James.

Chapter 2

The City Watch was the police department of the city of Washington. They were housed in an old weather-stained brick building that should have been torn down years ago. Normally it could hold just a handful of prisoners, but it was now expected to handle the mass of lawbreakers who had come to Washington in the wake of the soldiers. The worst of the camp followers sold alcohol and women, while the better ones provided several personal services for the soldiers. Some of the soldiers had never left home, or been away from the scrutiny of family and neighbors. With the added temptations, crime had risen dramatically. When Jack and Ezra rode up to the building, there was a long line of visitors waiting to see those detained from the night before.

Jack carefully tied his horse to the hitching post, and Ezra followed suit. They pushed their way through the small crowd waiting outside the building and received a number of dirty looks with a few suspecting they were trying to cut ahead in the line. Jack mumbled something about being on official business, and they passed through the front doors into the office lobby.

The main clerk behind the desk was fruitlessly trying to keep the crowd under some semblance of control. He exasperatedly shoved the visitors back away from the desk and shouted at them as he determined who was next in line. With the summer heat it was stagnant inside the building; the smell of sweat hung heavily in the air. Jack found it hard to breathe. The noise and press of humanity made his head hurt. Tempers were short, and several people looked as if they were about to come to blows.

Jack gave a quick nod to the clerk, who motioned them to continue past the swinging gate. The clerk had seen them often enough to know they were there to see Henry Garrett.

Garrett’s office was small and crowded with piles of official papers and well-worn law books. He didn’t even look up as they entered, but continued to study the papers on his desk. Just put those reports on the desk, he mumbled with a pencil hanging loosely in his mouth. His face was furrowed with concentration and didn’t even look up at Jack as he drew up a chair and sat down. It was clear that Henry was overworked.

Jack cleared his throat loudly and Henry gave a sudden start as he looked at him. Oh, it’s you - and Ezra. It’s good to see the both of you again. His voice was quick with nervous energy as he started to complain about his troubles. This damn war is giving me nothing but headaches. Did you see that line of people outside? One would think the good folks in this city could keep their hands off the whores. And I never saw so many drunks in my life. But that is no problem of yours - I’m glad to see that you finally had the chance to make it over to see me.

Jack felt a little embarrassed as he replied, Well, it’s never a problem to see you Henry. I’m just sorry that we couldn’t make it here sooner.

Henry shot Ezra a glance as he said, Your partner told me you were sleeping off a drunken binge. I don’t understand how you can do that to yourself day after day.

Ignoring the condemnation, the detective replied, Well I’m here now – you mentioned something about a job?

I’m sure your partner already told you the little I said to him. I thought it better to wait to see the both of you and tell you both the whole story. No point of repeating myself, if you know what I mean. I had a visitor this morning, a father who came down from New York, and he’s looking for his missing son. A slow smile crossed Garrett’s face as he waited for Jack’s response.

Jack said sarcastically, A missing son? Doesn’t anyone write a note or leave a message these days? After my last case, I’m not sure I can do another like it.

Garrett laughed. From what I’ve heard, you don’t seem to have much choice in the matter.

My financial difficulties should be no worry of yours, the detective snapped back.

Henry ignored the ill-tempered response and continued, This time it’s a little different - the wayward son is in the army, posted here in Washington. He disappeared just last night. It seems that this lieutenant has been charged with deserting, but no one can seem to find him to press the charges. The father went to the camp, but no one is admitting anything about his son’s whereabouts. Out of frustration he came to see me even though I have little sway over military law.

Ezra asked, And why are you asking us to look into this problem? Some of your men would be better suited to searching the town.

Henry waved his hands at the piles of paper on his desk. You saw that line of people outside. Frankly, we’re too busy here to spend time tracking down a missing soldier. My men are overworked, and anyway it’s normally something the army should handle, but the father wants someone to start looking into it right now. He has enough money that his words have some sway with me. I told him I knew just the right man for the job – someone who wasn’t afraid of starting trouble and knows his way around the army. I told him that you were the right bastard for the job.

I’ll take that as a compliment, Jack replied with a laugh. Now what unit did he go missing from? Some are stricter than others about giving punishment to deserters.

Oh no, I’m not going to tell you the story – I can’t spare you a moment longer of my time. Better that you hear it for yourself from the father. I told them to wait at their hotel until I could locate you.

Them? Ezra queried.

If you must know, the soldier’s fiancée came with her future father in-law to see her brave lieutenant. Garrett seemed to begrudge them even this small bit of information.

Jack eyebrows went up upon hearing there was a young woman involved. Is she pretty? he asked.

And Ezra told me that your heart was still broken up over that last woman. I guess he was wrong.

His partner looked away from his friend’s sudden vicious stare and pretended to study the street outside.

Henry, don’t you go and start listening to Ezra. He won’t be happy until he sees me married again. He thinks it will stop me from drinking too much. Funny thing is I never see him trying to go and get hitched. He’s too busy visiting the whorehouses every night.

Only when we’re making enough money, the black man commented blandly.

Garrett slapped his knee and laughed loudly. He gave his eyes a wipe with his sleeve and said, Well, I’m glad you two are still getting along so well.

Jack looked at Henry sourly. For now we are. Now where do we go to meet this father?

"They are staying just around the corner at a hotel called The Willows. The father wanted to be close enough to the Watch to