1635:The Dreeson Incident

Chapter 69

Grantville

"Weren't the fireworks that the Farbenwerke put on great?" Denise was reliving every minute of the celebration. "Where did they get so many so fast? There were only three days between when the Jenkinses announced Ron and Missy's engagement in the paper and the picnic up at Lothlorien."

Minnie shook her head. "It wasn't fast. Lutz Fischer in seventh grade is the son of the facilities manager there. He says the union had figured for months that this would be coming up, so they bought a case every time they had a chance and had them stashed away in advance."

"I think it's exciting," Denise said. "Especially that maybe they're engaged, sort of, because we taught Missy and Pam to ride, so we had something to do with it. They wouldn't have kissed each other up at Lothlorien that afternoon if Missy hadn't been on your hog and given Ron a lift."

Minnie nodded. "Yeah. But I sure can't tell what she sees in him." Having thus defined romance as a priori irrelevant to this betrothal, she reconsidered the matter from a practical perspective. "And coming from the kind of family she has, she doesn't need to marry him for money, either."

She was, however, willing to grant that a groom was a prerequisite for putting on a wedding. Ever since the announcement of the engagement, she had been spending her spare time in Mrs. Johnson's home economics room, reading a dozen or so tattered copies of up-time bridal magazines that had found a final resting place there. "I bet Missy's mom is going to insist on a big wedding, whether Missy wants one or not. Or her grandmas will. If so, do you suppose she might ask us to be bridesmaids because we helped things along?"

Denise shook her head. "She'll probably ask her cousins. Or someone she was in the same class with at school. Brides almost always do. Vanessa Jones, that's the daughter of the Reverends Jones, asked Caroline and Ceci. When Mary Kat Riddle got married last winter, her brother's wife was the matron of honor and she didn't have any other attendants at all. Gerry will probably get to be best man, though, if the rest of Ron's folks haven't come back from Italy by the time they get married."

The expression on Minnie's face was seriously disillusioned.

"But she might invite us to serve cake and punch at the reception," Denise offered as a consolation prize. "Or whatever people are using now instead of cake and punch."

"That's better than nothing. I guess."

"We did already get invited to Gerry's confirmation." Denise held out an elaborately decorated printed sheet. "He mailed yours to me, too, because he wasn't sure of Benny's address."

Minnie took her copy. "I guess Doreen would be willing to go with us over to Rudolstadt. I don't think that your mom goes to confirmations."

"It's going to be here at St. Martin's. A real big deal. We can go by ourselves if none of the grownups want to go with us. What do you wear to a confirmation?" Denise asked. "I've never been to one."

"Your best dress. Not a prom dress, but if you have a good dress to wear to daytime things, that would be right. Like the one I wear when I go to church with Benny, Sundays when the weather's nasty and I don't want to walk out to St. Martin's."

"Good jeans?"

"I don't think so. Maybe nice slacks, though, with a matching top."

"I wore my good jeans to the Christmas play at St. Martin's."

"That was at night, and everyone kept their coats on, you said, because the church was so cold. You could ask Mrs. Reading what to wear. She'd know what's right. Your mom can afford to buy you one, can't she?"

"Yeah. I think so. She'll wonder what I need a dress for, though."

Minnie frowned. "Is Gerry better now? Less upset about what when on down in Rome?"

"Yeah. Maybe that's why he's being confirmed here instead of over at the school. He really likes this pastor. It's funny, Minnie."

"What?"

"Here we are, all three of us sixteen. When I look at Gerry, I start thinking that we've really got to start deciding what we want to do with our lives beyond skipping school whenever we can get away with it and riding motorcycles."

"And being bridesmaids, if Missy would ask us." Minnie looked wistful. "I would love to have a green bridesmaid's dress. Doreen picks my new clothes out and she never picks anything green. With one of those skirts that's slim at the top and flares out below, like an upside-down lily."

"It's a little discouraging. Gerry is so absolutely sure of what he wants to do. He's not bothered a bit by knowing that he'll be going to school for years and years and years more."

"It's that atonement thing. He's still really bothered about killing that Marius guy."

"I know," Denise said."

"Why did it bother him so much? Why does it still bother him so much? What did that book we looked up at the library call it? A crisis of conscience?"

"Well," Denise suggested tentatively, "maybe he got so upset because he did it by accident. On the spur of the moment. To a guy who wasn't really right, mentally. It wasn't something that he knew needed doing and decided to do."

Minnie nodded her head. That seemed as good an explanation as any they were likely to think of. They settled down to catch up on the homework they had missed while they were out of town.

Mrs. Dreeson and Mrs. Wiley had really been pretty annoyed with them. So had Missy and Pam. Mentoring. It wasn't as if they were so dumb that they had to be in class every day in order to get decent grades.

When they got their diplomas, they knew, they had some interesting things coming to them from the locked cubicles at the storage lot. Buster had left a letter covering it in his safe deposit box, in case anything happened to him.

Denise's dad had believed in keeping his paperwork in order.

"I still think," Minnie said, "that it would be more fun to be a bridesmaid and walk down the aisle carrying a bouquet than it would be to serve cake and punch. Junior bridesmaids, maybe? One of the magazines had an article about those. Do you suppose we could hint?"

Don Francisco put down the report currently in front of him.

The news from the Netherlands was that lava lamps bade fair to become the equivalent of the tulip craze recorded in the encyclopedias from up-time. There appeared to be every reason to believe that Laurent Mauger, his wife Velma Hardesty, his LaChapelle nephews in Leiden, and Jacques-Pierre Dumais were on their way to a fortune that would dwarf Mauger's original very prosperous business enterprises. A fortune which, being prudently kept in the names of Velma, the two nephews, and Dumais, would be unaffected by the civil agreement Mauger had made with his sons and other nephews before he remarried.

This might have significant potential for increasing Mauger's influence in the circles of recalcitrant, irredentist, Huguenot opponents of Cardinal Richelieu. Even more, it would signify that Madame Mauger was likely, some day, to be found in the role of an influential and wealthy widow.

Dumais, he heard, was retiring from the trade to concentrate upon becoming an industrial magnate. A pity, in a way. He'd been a competent man. Francisco would have preferred to turn him, if possible.

Well, you couldn't win them all, as Mike Stearns often said. And, if the rumors of a possible betrothal between Dumais and the sister of Pamela Hardesty's suitor were true? The man had, after all, taken out Grantville citizenship. So who knew? That was a matter for the future. It would be useful to have a competent agent inside Laurent Mauger's various enterprises and not just rely upon chance.

Sighing, Nasi looked at Wes Jenkins and asked, "How much do you know about the circumstances of your son-in-law's death?"

"Beyond what has been discussed within the administration? Or beyond what you may know beyond that?" was Wes' cautious answer.

Respond to a question with questions. Yes, Jenkins might rise farther than he had expected in the diplomatic service.

"Stalemate?"

"I feel certain that you have agents in Frankfurt. Its products are much too important to the war effort that you would not."

"You are correct." He thought back to the last letter he had received from the up-timer he had placed in Frankfurt. Nathan Prickett. Awkward, that he was Jenkins' other son-in-law. All the people in this town were so interrelated that it sometimes made things difficult. Fascinating, always, but sometimes difficult. When he first encountered Grantville, the interconnections had not been so clear to him.

"I don't need to know who they are."

Don Francisco found that something of a relief, under the circumstances. "I received a quite detailed report from one of them who was on the scene at the time the death was discovered."

"Probably didn't tally very well with the official story."

Don Francisco sighed. He had been afraid of that. Perhaps a circumlocution was in order?

"I would appreciate your advice."

"On?"

"Suitability. I have been considering speaking with Christin George and Benny Pierce in regard to those two girls with the incredible motorcycles. Ah. I can never thank you enough for arranging that first ride with Minnie for me. Marvelous."

Wes smiled. It was generally known that Don Francisco now had a new interest in life. He had purchased Buster Beasley's Harley from Christin George, for a price that no one else in Grantville even wanted to think about.

"Minnie told me that Denise didn't get mad; she got even. That he started it. She didn't offer any details and I didn't ask for any." That was as far as Wes originally intended to go. But. "That I would have lost my temper and messed it up."

"You feel no obligation to bring this to the attention of the authorities?"

"I was quite prepared to let the authorities deal with his treason." Wes paused. "That's political. Threatening Clara, beating Lenore-that was different. Personal. Denise and Minnie didn't do anything that I wouldn't have done if I had caught up with him. That was personal, too, for them. For Buster, for Henry. They only did it better."

"I think, then, that I will arrange a coffee. The two parents. Mrs. Dreeson. Mrs. Wiley."

"I'd suggest that you invite Joe Pallavicino, too. You might get some good input. He knows them as well as anyone in the school system does."

Don Francisco nodded his thanks.

"I know," Don Francisco said, nodding at the three widows, "that for you it was a tragedy. A great personal tragedy, and I do extend my full sympathy to you all. But in the larger picture, both for the USE and for Grantville… You do realize, I hope, that as a result of the reaction against the assassinations in front of the synagogue, particularly against that of Herr Dreeson, anti-Semitism as an organized phenomenon will almost vanish from the United States of Europe. So will witch-hunting. For a number of years, at least. Individual prejudices, of course, are a different matter. This may even extend to any kind of outright reactionary political formations in the USE, because, given the nature of the situation, all of them had been dabbling heavily in the anti-Semitic efforts."

Veronica nodded. "So be it. Henry hated all that viciousness. And

… he would not have liked being an invalid. Not at all. And, as Doctor Nichols had told him, hip replacements will remain a 'thing of the future' for a long time yet."

"As for Grantville itself," Don Francisco began.

This time Inez Wiley nodded. "Yes, this has brought the town together again. It is more… more cohesive… now than it has been since right after the Croat raid. We were cracking apart. People are so tired, so overworked. So many men have taken jobs elsewhere, the soldiers have been stationed in other places for so long, so many families have been split again. First losing relatives to the Ring of Fire, then to other towns and cities. And so many new people coming in so fast, taking their places in some ways, but not quite. I hate to think that it took the deaths of Henry and Enoch to reverse the breakdown, but since it did and I'm sure it was not the intention of the assassins that it did, God has granted us justice."

She blinked. "So, that's all right. Even if most people won't ever notice how it happened. Otherwise, it's been a little tempestuous since Enoch's funeral. Will and Gina are going to marry each other again, so maybe I'll have more grandchildren yet. Gina's only thirty-three." Her voice caught in her throat, somewhere between a laugh and a sob. "If she doesn't shoot him first. I sure hope he's learned his lesson. The power plant is designated safety-critical, so ever since the Ring of Fire, she's been real conscientious about keeping up her target practice at the police range every week."

Don Francisco nodded his respect. He could not have said himself whether the respect was for Inez or Gina. Grantville's women were.. . astonishing. Spiritual sisters of Judith and Jael. Now for the next part.

"Your daughters," he said. This time he gestured to Benny Pierce and Christin. "They are growing up."

Yes, Don Francisco granted to himself, these girls were dangerous. Would continue to be dangerous as they matured. As dangerous as any man such as Harry Lefferts, he thought. More dangerous, perhaps, because people did not see it so quickly in females. His mind drifted back briefly to the City. To the Sultana Valide. He must, if possible, have them. It would be far better to have their potential harnessed than left to run loose.

He hoped he would never have to tell the old man and Denise's mother what Nathan Prickett had written to him from Frankfurt. There was certainly no reason to do so right now. And there was no hurry, of course. Perhaps he should let them finish high school here in Grantville first. However…

"The girl Denise," he began, "wrote me a very interesting letter some time back, containing extremely valuable information that she and Minnie had compiled. Combined with other data, it was extremely helpful in tracking the instigators of the attack on the synagogue and the motives for the assassination. Additionally, at the time of the Jenkins child's birth, the girl Minnie delivered an impromptu emergency report that was a model of brevity and relevance. It is time, perhaps, that they should be considering their future careers. I will be starting up a private practice that continues much of my previous work for the government. I believe what you up-timers would call a 'consultant' sort of thing. I will always have need of…"

Benny Pierce smiled. "That Mrs. Simpson," he said, "you've heard of her?"

Don Francisco agreed that he had heard of Mrs. Simpson.

"She's invited me go come to Magdeburg this coming summer. To 'anchor a folklife festival,' she said." Benny started digging through a pile of mail stacked on the arm of his chair. "There's a letter here about it. I'd thought, with Minnie trying to catch up in school and all, that I'd probably have to pass on it. But if you would have some kind of stuff for her to do there, too… She's sixteen, after all. I quit school before I was that old. It wouldn't be such a hard trip, now that a person can take the train."

"That would certainly work for a few months," Francisco said. "Not, perhaps, in the long run. I have decided, for a variety of reasons, that it would be best to relocate to Prague."

Nasi cleared his throat. "Of course, Wallenstein is said to be an enthusiastic patron of the arts as well. And Prague is world-famous for music."

He and Benny smiled warmly upon each other.

Joe Pallavicino smiled too. "Actually," he said, "in many ways, both Minnie and Denise would benefit from starting to gain broader experience now. Outside of the Grantville school system. Particularly since both of them are old for grade. And there are such things as correspondence courses. No reason why they shouldn't go ahead and get their high school diplomas while receiving additional training in your office, Don Francisco."

If he pulled this off, Joe reflected, then some day, when he appeared before the pearly gates, he could hand St. Peter a letter of recommendation from Victor Saluzzo. The high school principal might even pay for sequins on his wings.

Whether Don Francisco Nasi would provide one for him by then would be another question, of course.