came to him. "Cap'n York's come back, Cap'n. Got some folks with him. Mister Jeffers is settlin' them into cabins."
"Has Joshua gone up to his cabin?" Marsh asked. The man nodded. Marsh snatched up his walking stick and made for the stairs.
Outside York's cabin, he hesitated briefly, threw back his ample shoulders, and brought the head of his stick sharply against the door. York opened on the third knock. "Come in, Abner," he said, smiling. Marsh stepped inside, shut the door behind him, and leaned against it, while York crossed the room and resumed what he'd been doing. He'd set out a silver tray and three glasses. Now he reached for a fourth. "I'm glad you came up. I've brought some people aboard I want you to meet. They'll be coming up for a drink as soon as they've settled into their staterooms." York pulled a bottle of his private drink from the wine rack, produced his knife, and sliced off the wax seal.
"Never mind about that," Marsh said brusquely. "Joshua, we got to talk."
York set the bottle down on the tray and turned to face Marsh. "Oh? What of? You sound upset, Abner."
"I got spare keys to every lock on this boat. Mister Jeffers keeps 'em for me in the safe. When you went into Natchez, I got myself a key and searched your cabin."
Joshua York scarcely moved, but when he heard Marsh's words his lips pressed together slightly. Abner Marsh looked him straight in the eye, as a man ought at a time like this, and felt coldness there, and the fury of betrayal. He would almost rather Joshua had screamed at him, or even drawn a weapon, than look at him with such eyes. "Did you find anything of interest?" York asked finally, in a voice gone flat.
Abner Marsh wrenched himself away from Joshua's gray eyes, and jabbed his stick at the desk. "Your ledgers," he said. "Full of dead men."
York said nothing. He glanced briefly at the desk, frowned, and sat himself down in one of his armchairs and poured out a measure of his thick, vile drink. He sipped it, and only then gestured to Marsh. "Sit down," he commanded. When Marsh was seated across from him, York added one final word: "Why?"
"Why?" Marsh said, a bit angrily. "Maybe cause I'm tired of havin' myself a partner who don't tell me nothin', who don't trust me."
"We had a bargain."
"I know that, Joshua. And I'm sorry, if that matters. Sorry I did it, and a damn sight sorrier I got caught." He grinned ruefully. "That Katherine saw me leave. She'll be talkin' to you. Look, I should have come direct to you, told you what was eatin' at me. I'm doin' that now. Maybe it's too late, but here I am. Joshua, I love this boat of ours much as I ever loved anything, and the day we take the horns off the Eclipse is goin' to be the grandest day of my life. But I been thinkin', and I know I got to give up that day, and this steamer, rather than go on like we are. This river is full of scoundrels and sharpers and Bible-thumpers and abolitionists and Republicans and all manner of queer folk, but you're the queerest of the lot, I swear. The night hours I don't mind, they don't fret me none. Books full of dead people, that's somethin' else, but it ain't nobody's business what a man cares to read. Why, I knew a pilot on the Grand Turk kept books that'd make even Karl Framm turn red with shame. But these stops of yours, these trips off by yourself, it's those I can't suffer no more. You're slowing my steamer, damn you, you're ruinin' our name before we even made it. And Joshua, that ain't all. I seen you the night you come back from New Madrid. You had blood on your hands. Deny it if you will. Cuss me if you want. But I know. You had blood on your hands, damned if you didn't."
Joshua York took a long drink, and frowned as he refilled his glass. When he looked at Marsh, the ice had melted in his eyes. He looked thoughtful. "Are you proposing we dissolve our partnership?" he asked.
Marsh felt like a mule had kicked him in the stomach. "If you want, you got that right. I ain't got the money to buy you out, of course. But you'd have the Fevre Dream, and I