After exchanging a dozen frustrating telegrams, Caroline finally tracked Gray down in Kansas, where he’d gone to help with the sale of the farm belonging to Annabelle’s family. The farm had no electricity or access to a telephone, so it had taken some doing for them to arrange a time and place where he could accept a long-distance telephone call from her.
She stood in the hallway off the hotel kitchen where a telephone was anchored to the wall. It wasn’t private, but she would finally have a chance to talk to Gray about Luke’s cryptic message regarding Captain Holland. She had made no headway in what Luke was trying to say about Key West, but perhaps Gray could make sense of it.
It had been a long day, and her shoes pinched while listening to a series of operators patch her call through the switchboards in Pittsburg, Columbus, Indianapolis, Springfield, Topeka, and finally to the pharmacy in Junction City, Kansas, where Gray was awaiting her call.
“Caroline?” his voice finally came over the line. “How are you doing? How’s the president?”
All over the nation, it was the only thing people were talking about, and she answered as best she could. President McKinley had been doing well but seemed weaker today. Perhaps setbacks were to be expected during the long recovery process. Then she got down to the matter at hand.
“The Hebrew portion of Luke’s last message said to stop talking to Captain Holland. That he is dangerous.”
“But I thought you trusted Captain Holland,” Gray said.
“I did, but Luke clearly doesn’t. As soon as I’m back in Washington—”
A telephone operator’s voice interrupted them. “Breaking in with an emergency message from Milburn house,” she said. “Doctor Winston needs to speak with George Cortelyou immediately.”
Caroline’s heart seized. “Gray, I need to go.”
“Go,” he ordered, and Caroline dropped the earpiece, running to the dining room where the air was thick with cigar smoke and political gamesmanship.
“George, you’re needed on the telephone.”
He must have noticed her stricken expression, for he sobered as he stood. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. Dr. Winston is asking for you.”
George followed her back to the telephone, holding the earpiece so they could both listen as Dr. Winston’s tinny voice came across the wire.
“Gangrene has taken root in the president’s wound,” he said. “It’s spreading quickly, and his temperature has soared. There is no hope. I don’t expect him to survive the day.”
Caroline sagged against the wall. Infection was everyone’s greatest fear, but he’d survived a full week and had been getting better. She stared at George, irrationally hoping he’d say something to mitigate the doctor’s terrible message, but he looked as stunned as she felt.
“The president has asked for a pastor,” the doctor continued. “He knows he’s dying.”
George thanked the doctor and hung up the earpiece.
What are we going to do? What are we going to do?
She didn’t realize she’d been speaking aloud until George answered her.
“We send for the vice president.”
Thirty
William McKinley died at two o’clock in the morning, eight days after being shot. Theodore Roosevelt arrived later that day to a city in shock. There would be no formal inauguration, only a grim swearing-in ceremony that would occur in a few hours.
Caroline tried to blank out the noise from downstairs while sitting at Ida’s bedside. A doctor provided heavy sedation for Ida, who had reached her limit. Downstairs, hammers banged as black crepe was nailed over the windows. Doors and footsteps thudded with the constant coming and going of government personnel. Ida didn’t even flinch as another needle was inserted into her arm to administer more sedative.
“The Major will want to go back to Ohio,” she said, staring out the window. “It’s where our daughters are buried.”
“I shall arrange it,” Caroline said. It would have to be after the official state funeral in Washington, but Ida had the right to determine where her husband would be laid to rest.
Ida turned her head to look at an enormous wreath of white lilies that had been delivered earlier. “I’d like to take the lilies,” she said. “The Major loves the scent of lilies, and he will enjoy having them on the train.”
Caroline glanced at the doctor, who also noticed that Ida continued to speak of her husband in the present tense. Perhaps it was just the shock. She sat by the first lady’s bedside until the additional sedation took effect, but wasted no time in drafting a schedule for someone to be by Ida’s side for the next several days. She couldn’t be left alone, but Caroline had other duties in urgent need of attention.
Mercifully, Ida’s sister was ready to fill the void. “This looks fine,” Pina said after reviewing the schedule. “You look exhausted. I’ll take over.”
