When the housekeeper reached a carved walnut door and knocked, Tom quickly reviewed all he’d researched already about Henry Cole and Cole Enterprises. The multi-millionaire had inherited a fortune from his father. However, in recent years, not only had he improved upon his father’s lumber and mining holdings in the Midwest, but after the War Between the States, he’d invested in the booming steel and railroad industries, along with silver mines in the West. He was making more money than he could possibly use in one lifetime.
Henry Cole owned the Gramercy mansion in New York City, a newly built estate on Prairie Avenue in Chicago, a summer home in Newport, and a recently purchased villa in Italy. He had several yachts, dozens of racehorses, and two private country farms. Each home was staffed with enough servants that the man could form a small army with all his employees.
The family wasn’t of old money like the Astors, Forbes, or Winthrops. But Henry Cole’s wealth had pushed him high on the list of most prominent men in the United States. He had a reputation for being innovative, aggressive, and intelligent. Tom had heard nothing but praise for Mr. Cole.
The housekeeper swung open the door to reveal a dark-paneled room with a large mahogany desk, floor to ceiling bookshelves, built-in wall cabinets, and an elegant sideboard. A man Tom guessed to be approximately forty-five years of age sat in one of the leather wing-backed chairs in front of an expansive picture window that overlooked Gramercy Park. He replaced a china cup onto a saucer on the low table in front of him and rose.
He was slim but solid. His light brown hair was smoothed back and his chiseled face clean shaven. He wore a fine suit that included a dark brown worsted coat with a fine braid binding the edges, a collarless waistcoat of fancy white quilting, and light brown striped trousers, all of which were perfectly tailored. Apparently Mr. Cole had just looked at his watch because the flap on his waistcoat pocket was half-tucked in and half-out, with the triple-strand gold fob stuffed too far inside.
“Sir,” the housekeeper said, “Mr. Cushman is here to see you.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Hatfield.” Mr. Cole nodded at the petite woman as she took her leave, closing the door behind her. “Come in, Mr. Cushman and have a seat.” He waved at the leather side chair next to his, all the while studying Tom, from his dark short-cropped hair down to his shiny black shoes.
With his usual long stride, Tom crossed the room and extended a hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Cole.”
“You’re earlier than I expected.” Mr. Cole gripped his hand in return. A firm handshake that spoke of confidence and authority. But there was also a softness to it that indicated the gentler side of the man that Arch had vouched for.
“I always say better early than late.”
“I like that policy.” Mr. Cole released his hand and lowered himself back into his chair. As he reached for his tea cup, Tom glimpsed the ink on the man’s right thumb and the indentation on his middle finger where’d he recently held a pen. The man had evidently been writing a telegram, hence the sight of the telegram delivery boy that had been leaving the house when he’d arrived.
Tom sat on the edge of his chair, and immediately his mind went to work plotting escape routes from the room. Although he had no need for a backup plan, no charges under his protection at the moment, the habit was hard to break even when he was off duty.
Mr. Cole took a sip of tea and continued to study Tom over the cup’s golden rim. His eyes reflected both frustration and fear. And Tom could guess why. The man desperately wanted to keep his family safe, but without a bodyguard, he felt vulnerable and afraid. Tom could respect him for his concern. He’d seen too many wealthy men who didn’t care. Who weren’t faithful. Who treated their mistresses better than their wives.
From his research, Tom had learned that Henry Cole was extremely devoted to his wife, Isabelle. But sadly, she was blind. She’d inherited a disease that had caused her to lose her sight when she was a young woman. Not only did she need constant assistance, but she also apparently needed protection. A man of Mr. Cole’s high profile and exorbitant wealth had made plenty of enemies over the years.