Previously: Stanton holds the Lincolns and janitor Gabby captive in the White House basement. Private Adam Christy takes guard duties. After two years of deceit, love and death, the war is over. Stanton forces Adam into a final conspiracy. Duff holds his last cabinet meeting posing as the president. Duff and Alethia leave on their last carriage ride, never to return. Adam then watches the Lincolns leave for the theater.
With his throat choked up, all Adam managed was a small wave to the Lincolns. And for the second time that night, he watched a couple ride into the darkness of their destinies. This time, however, he could not hold back tears. Rushing to the service stairwell, he cried as his feet made the straw mats crackle. At the bottom, he fell against the door, sobbing like a ghost. When he regained control, Adam opened the door and walked to the billiards room. Inside, he found Gabby curled up on his pallet about to doze off. Adam touched him with a gentle nudge.
“What?” Gabby sat up.
“It’s me, Private Christy.”
“Oh.”
“You have to go.”
“But Mrs. Lincoln said I could stay.”
“Things have changed.” Adam started putting Gabby’s clothes together in the middle of one of his quilts. “I know someone who’ll help you.”
“I remember. The nice young woman Cordie liked.”
“No,” Adam replied with a steady voice. “Unfortunately, the young woman died. Miss Dorothea Dix will give you a place to stay. Do you know who she is?”
“Yes. The boss lady. Cordie was scared of her.”
“Well, she’s nice once you get to know her. She’ll care for you until a man from New York will come to take over.”
“New York’s good. I know New York. My mother and father died there. New York’s a good place to die.”
“Don’t talk like that.” Adam choked back tears. “You’re not going to die any time soon. I think you’re going to live happily for a long time.”
“We all have to die sometime. New York is a good place to die.”
Adam bowed his head and finished tying Gabby’s bundle. He looked up when Gabby began to sniff.
“I smell rain.”
“It started drizzling a while ago.”
“I don’t like getting wet. It’s a long way to the soldiers’ hospital, and I’ll get wet. I hate getting wet.”
His mind racing, Adam finally thought of the hat and coat on Lincoln’s bed. They would be too large for Gabby, but they would keep him dry.
“I’ll be right back.”
“Take your time. It’s raining.”
As Adam bounded up the matted service stairs, he felt that giving the hat and coat was the least he could do for Gabby after all he had been through because of Stanton’s terrible conspiracy. When he opened the door to the second floor, Adam slowed his pace, not wanting to draw attention to himself. He slipped into Lincoln’s bedroom, picked up the clothes, and left. Back in the billiards room, he found Gabby still in his corner. Adam smiled at him.
“Here’s a hat and coat. Now you won’t get wet.”
“They’re too big.” Standing, Gabby inspected them.
“That means you’ll have more protection from the rain.”
“But I’ll look stupid.”
“Yes, but you’ll be dry.”
“It’s better to be dry.” Gabby inspected the hat and coat more closely. “These are nice.” Putting on the coat, Gabby looked down and stroked the fabric. He scrutinized the black stovepipe hat. One of his fingers found the hole. “What’s this?”
“A bullet hole,” Adam replied. “Mrs. Lincoln didn’t want her husband to wear it.”
“The president’s hat?” Gabby’s eyes widened. “Is this the president’s coat?”
“Yes.”
Gabby carefully put the hat on his gray head.
“Does this mean I’m really the president now?” His eyes revealed deep concentration as he picked up his bundle.
Adam hesitated. He knew the president’s double was dead. Lincoln was to be shot soon. How many assassinations would be carried out overnight was uncertain. In this hour of leadership confusion, why not have a leader who was in a permanent state of confusion?
“Yes. You’re president.”
“I thought so.” Gabby nodded with assurance and picked up his bundle. He walked out of his safe place behind the crates and barrels. “My father would have been so proud.”
“Good night, Mr. President.” Adam gave him his best salute.
Gabby paused long enough to nod with grave formality before going across the hall, through the kitchen, and to the service entrance door. Adam listened to Gabby opening the door, and expected to hear it slam shut. Then he would be alone to decide his own future. When he did not hear the clang of the door, he frowned. What was happening now, he wondered.
“Who the hell are you?” Adam recognized Baker’s voice.
“I’m the president, aren’t I?”
Adam held his breath. He did not want Baker to kill Gabby too. No one deserved to die, but Gabby deserved to live more than anyone.
“Get the hell out of here,” Baker snapped.
“Yes, sir,” Gabby replied with meekness.
The door clanged shut, and Adam heard Baker’s footsteps through the kitchen, on his way to tie up the last loose end of Stanton’s intrigue. The future was now, finally, in Adam’s hands. He could wait for Baker to enter the door to kill him. He could shoot Baker as he came through the door. Those were not acceptable choices. Pulling out his revolver, Adam placed the barrel in his mouth, satisfied that, at the end, he was able to control his own destiny.

(This concludes my novel Lincoln in the Basement. If you enjoyed it, please leave a comment below and use Pay Pal to leave a gratuity to help defray the cost of the blog. Next week I will begin serializing the sequel Booth’s Revenge.)