Page 108 of By Any Means

Chary paying off police to fake a man’s death; Raberding paying off police to cover up Irving’s death, to make it look like a crime. Rich men’s solutions, learned by example, by precedent.

“Shit.” Laurie shouldn’t have asked when the gaffers had begun disappearing but when they’d stopped. Because the timeline did match up, after all: the last gaffer to disappear had been last October. Right around when Raberding must’ve found out about August’s automatic machine. Just as soon he’d had his realization that he might no longer need to negotiate with unions at all. He could have his lover and his machine, too.

Until August had died to say, for once and for all, that he couldn’t have either.

Chary had said he didn’t know which came first, Raberding’s want of August or his want of Wright Glass, but it didn’t matter, because they were indivisible. And it was seemingly true: maybe they had been for months. At least until August had opened his mouth and confided in his lover about his genius innovation. Maybe even beyond that.

Indivisible motivations. Were they still?

No need for skilled workers—no need to negotiate with trade unions—thus no longer any need to undermine the formation of unions in his closest competition. No longer any need to spur industry distrust in Wright Glass, to convince his lover and everyone that a merger would be beneficial for all.

Why hadn’t Raberding pushed the article exposing August, destroying his reputation, Chary’s reputation, and his business?

Maybe because it was no longer needed.

“It’s still unpatented.”

Eventually—eventually—maybe even no need for August himself.

“Oh, Christ.”

And if Raberding’s motivations were no longer indivisible, and August had refused him as his lover for once and for all…? Spat in his shoes, humiliated him, told him he wasn’t needed?

It was undeniable. The only question left was this: whether he’d get to the northwest balcony room in time—and just how far Raberding would go.

31

CHARY

The door to the northwest balcony room was open just a little; the lamplight peeking through the crack gave the slightest sliver of glowing welcome. August was there. He was safe, even with Laurie knowing every secret, the whole tapestry.

Was it too much to assume he and Laurie would share a room across the hall? The stuff mattress on the library floor was not going to be sufficient long-term. Did Laurie want to stay in New York? Was that why he’d asked about it? Would Chary stay in New York for him?

Perhaps, one day, August could have his sunsets on the west-facing balcony; Laurie, his sunrises to the east. The primary bedroom—always too vast for Chary alone—had a balcony too. The room would fit two men. It even had a hidden door heading to the turret library.

A pretty dream.

He knocked.

The response, this time, was immediate: an inhale, then a thick, hitching “Come in.”

Chary’s heart sank. He’d heard that tone before, though not for some time. He pushed in. “August? What happened? Have you been ill?”

“He’s a little bit indisposed.”

Tjofabier Raberding, from the left side of the bed, almost hidden from view against the wallpaper. Chary was too shocked to startle. Tight in his arms, Raberding held hostage a paper-white Sarah, her maid’s cap askew; against her temple was the barrel of a pistol. In the four-poster, August was seated—had been placed, rather—upright against a mass of pillows.

“What—”

“Not a word,” Raberding hissed. He nodded to the door. “Shut that behind you. Quietly. For the sake of your maid, it’d better not make a sound.”

Chary carefully complied. Raberding’s gun existed this time, plain as day, and was not likely full of blanks. He put up his hands.

“What have you done? Let her go at once.”

Raberding tsked. “I’m afraid I can’t. We made a bargain, August and I.” He nodded to the bed. “He’s just fulfilled his end of it.”

Then Chary only had eyes for August. His head was tossing, his eyes closed but fighting to open, like he was being dragged out of a dream feet-first. A glass hypodermic syringe fell from his twitching hand.