James D. Best - Tempest at Dawn

Also by James D. Best

The Shopkeeper

Leadville

The Shut Mouth Organization

The Digital Organization

Praise for Steve Dancy Titles

"You'll find yourself lost in thebookthe fast pace keeps it interesting."Maritza Barone, Woman's Day

"This is a fast paced tale with aninteresting hero ... youll certainly find enough twists and turnsto provide an entertaining and exciting story."Western Writers ofAmerica, August, 2008

"A great book, I do hopethat TheShopkeeper gets the readership itrichly deserves."Simon Barrett , BloggerNews Network

"Once again, Best has penned a fineread."C. K. Crigger , Roundup Magazine

"I loved it! The story is told in such a classic,smooth tone--it's really fast paced throughout."Jonathon Lyons,Lyons

Praise for The Shut Mouth Society

"The Shut MouthSociety is a fast-moving, well-writtennovel ."David M. Kinchen, Huntington News

Praise for Tempest at Dawn

"This is an important story told ina lively fashion. Tempest atDawn might be the ideal way ofintroducing the American public to the gripping story of how ourFounding Fathers gave birth to our constitution.Jon Bruning,Attorney General, Nebraska

Tempest at Dawn

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2009 James D. Best. All rightsreserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or retransmittedin any form or by any means without the written permission of thepublisher. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people.

Cover design by Jim Wood

Discover other titles by James D. Bestat http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/jamesdbest

http://www.jamesdbest.com/

ebook International Standard BookNumber: 978-1-4524-0182-9

Print Edition Published byWheatmark

610 East Delano Street, Suite104

Tucson, Arizona 85705U.S.A.

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International Standard Book Number:978-1-60494-344-3

Historical Note

In July of 1776, thirteen North American coloniesdeclared their independence from Great Britain. Fighting hadactually started a year earlier at Concord and Lexington with theshot heard round the world. War continued for seven more yearsuntil, on September 3, 1783, the Treaty of Paris finallylegitimized the sovereignty claims of the United States of America.At that time, the thirteen former colonies considered themselvesindependent states loosely connected for self-defense.

The Articles of Confederation, the first UnitedStates Constitution, proved barely adequate during the imperativeof war and a failure in peacetime. Within a few years, the militaryhad been reduced to near extinction, depression and hyperinflationsapped hope, insurrection sprang from civil injustice, a confusedgovernment tottered perilously close to collapse, and Europeanpowers hovered like vultures, eager to devour the remains.

In the summer of 1786, a convention at Annapoliscollapsed without making any recommendations to our enfeebledgovernment. James Madison and Alexander Hamilton attended theaborted Annapolis Convention and made a pact to promote anothernational conference the following summer. In May of 1787,fifty-five men came to Philadelphia with a congressional charter torevise the Articles of Confederation.

October 6, 1835

Anxiety woke me before dawn. Rolling to myside, I pulled the heavy quilt over my exposed ear. Was I ready?Had I prepared sufficiently? Would the old man reveal what I hadcome here to learn? He was stubborn and had frustrated many beforeme.

Eventually I stirred and made my way to thelamp. I fumbled to light it, then held quiet, alert to any noise inthe house. Nothing. I started to dress.

I had arrived the previous night, eager to askquestions, but the old man had sent me to bed, explaining that hethought more clearly in the mornings. Now I knew this wasfortuitous. If I had charged ahead, I would have blundered anddisclosed my true objective. The old man knows secrets and he hasdocuments documents he haskept hidden from public view for fifty years. I counseled myself tobe patient and approach my subject obliquely.

The events that concerned me had occurredfifty years ago, when the old man was thirty-six. He would diesoon, the last witness gone. Powerful men had gathered, met insecret, and plotted to overthrow a government. When he died, no onewould be left to expose what had happened behind those lockeddoors.

I grabbed my coat, intent on a brisk walk toclear my mind. Just before opening the bedroom door, I stopped. Ihad traversed the path only once. I decided to leave the lamp lit,so the spill of light would help me navigate the landing. The frontdoor stood directly in front of the stairs, so if I found the firststep, I should avoid stumbling.

Escaping the house, I discovered enoughnascent light to guide my way. At the back of the estate, ahorseshoe-shaped garden greeted me. Flowers and ornamental shrubsbracketed vegetables, fruit trees, and grape arbors. The gardenappeared withered, prepared for winters dormancy, but its generalneatness still impressedfour acres of unruly nature rigidlyordered and groomed to match the taste of its owner.

The morning chill chased me back toward thehouse. A thick forest girdled a vast arc of grass spilling acrossthe front acreage. Stately white pines lined the approach road, andclusters of trees occasionally broke the uniformity. I took a deepsniff and smelled wet foliage that carried a hint of decay.

A noise from the porch drew my attention tothe mansion. I saw two people work their way across the porch. Theold man shuffled unsteadily as he clung to a strong black arm. Themanservant slipped a hand under the old mans elbow and lowered himinto his rocker. When he had settled, the patriarch sat back toallow his servant to spread a heavy blanket across his lap.

Thank you, Paul, Ill be fine now.Tell Sukey Im ready for my tea.

I stood silently and watched my host tuckthe blanket tight against his legs. Kneading his rheumatic hands,he gazed at the rolling mountains in the distance. Before I coulddecide how to signal my presence, the mistress waltzed onto theporch, breaking the old mans reverie.

James, I know you love your morningritual, but its far too chilly for you to be out here. Come. Illhelp you move into the sitting room.

Im bundled warmly. If you want toward off my chill, hurry Sukey with my tea.

Sukeyll be here shortly, she said,one hand on her hip, I wont argue, but may I remind you that youbarely made it through last winter? Just think how disappointedyoull be if you cant read your books.

Clever, my dear, but Imstayingalthough, I might expire right here if I dont get mytea.

Ill see whats keeping Sukey, butbreakfast will be served in the dining room. She threw this lastover her shoulder as she retreated into the house.

The subject of my investigation looked smallenough that a soft breeze could tumble him away with the autumnleaves. How could such a frail man rouse his partisans and enemiesto such passion? His soft voice furnished not the slightest hint ofauthority.

Yet he somehow struck an imposing figure,sitting exquisitely still in his black silk gown, black gloves, andtight-fitting skullcap. Sharp, birdlike features and a sternexpression erupted from the dark garb. The tiny man, reputed tohave an enormous intellect, still possessed eyes that promised analert mind.

My hesitancy allowed another player to enterthe scene, a petite black woman who emerged from the housebalancing a large tray with tea service. The old man acknowledgedher with a faint nod. The woman served the tea with an lan gainedfrom years of experience. She arranged a second cup. Was this meantfor the woman of the house or me? The aroma spurred me toaction.