Chapter 276 - 277
Chapter 276: Dutch, Did You Hit Your Head
Saint Denis Grand Hotel.
Davey was hosting Samuel Grayson, a senior executive of Pinkerton.
The man was in his fifties. Broad-shouldered and powerfully built, his tailored suit looked as though it might split at the seams at any moment. Nearly two meters tall, with a thick beard covering his face, he resembled a bear.
A gold cigar band gleamed between his fingers as he held a cigar.
A very refined bear.
“I’d like to hear your plan, Mr. Land.”
“Your previous proposal interested me enough to come here in person to speak with you.”
“I trust this won’t turn out to be a wasted trip.”
Grayson’s tone carried a natural authority, faintly imposing but not impolite. It was simply the habit of a man long accustomed to power, not something directed at Davey personally.
“Ten factories. Twenty factories. Thirty factories.”
“A thousand workers. Two thousand. Even tens of thousands.”
“Saint Denis has a massive influx of immigrants—an abundant source of cheap labor.”
“And it has a port capable of shipping goods across the world.”
“This city will become the factory of the world, producing the finest goods at the lowest prices.”
“And transporting those goods will require substantial protection.”
“Mr. Grayson, our cooperation will be a win-win.”
Davey spoke calmly, his voice steady.
His words unfolded like a grand blueprint before Grayson’s eyes.
He spoke as though that future were already within reach.
And with it came an unmistakable confidence.
It was that confidence that moved Grayson.
Looking at Davey, he seemed to see his younger self.
He had once been the same way.
“I was right to come in person.”
“You’ve got ambition, Mr. Land. I like that.”
“Here’s to a successful partnership.”
“All Pinkerton resources in the West will be fully open to you.”
“If you need anything in the East, I will give you my full support.”
“I trust I won’t be disappointed, Mr. Land.”
Grayson set down his cigar, stood, and extended his right hand.
Major decisions often came down to trust in a person.
Before coming, Grayson had reviewed Davey’s file countless times.
In just a few short months, he had gone from a notorious outlaw in the West to a business elite. A genius.
Seeing him in person only strengthened Grayson’s conviction.
Partnering with a business prodigy like this was how Pinkerton would go further.
After all, hadn’t he risen the same way?
“Trust me, Mr. Grayson. I won’t disappoint you.”
Davey reached out and gripped his hand firmly.
He couldn’t help feeling stirred.
Grayson was the most powerful man he had met so far. No question.
Even a tycoon like Cornwall fell short compared to Pinkerton’s top leadership.
It wasn’t about money—it was about power and connections.
Pinkerton had once saved a president and still handled matters related to presidential security.
That meant access to the highest levels of the federal government.
The influence and invisible networks behind that were beyond anything a mere business magnate could match.
With Grayson’s backing, it might not mean much in the East.
But in the West, it meant Davey now possessed enough political influence to shape the situation.
Milton stood behind Grayson.
A senior agent’s status was worlds apart from someone like Grayson, who could dismiss him with a word.
Milton’s feelings were complicated.
He had watched Davey’s rise from beginning to end.
Once a notorious criminal tied to the Callander brothers and a major suspect in the Blackwater heist.
In just a few months, he had transformed into a leading figure in Saint Denis.
And now he had secured Mr. Grayson’s support.
Ross felt even more conflicted.
The way he looked at Davey had changed.
Grayson’s promise of full support meant that, to a certain extent, Pinkerton agents across the West would prioritize Davey.
It also meant that if Davey made demands of him, Ross would have only two choices—
Obey.
Or resign.
...
Meanwhile.
Dutch was still trying to convince Arthur.
“Trust me, Arthur.”
“Bronte knows we got away. He’ll guess we might come after him.”
“But this time, we’ll catch him completely off guard.”
“He’d never expect us to strike right now.”
“See? I can still think clearly, can’t I?”
Arthur replied dryly, “I figured you must’ve knocked your head robbing that tram, Dutch.”
...
Chapter 277: A Bigger Stage
Deep down, Arthur knew Hosea was right.
But when it came time to choose, he still chose Dutch.
He understood that at a time like this, internal conflict would only hurt the gang.
Besides, he was angry at Bronte himself.
In that mess, he, Dutch, and Lenny had almost lost their lives.
On the road, Dutch suddenly said, “Thanks.”
Arthur frowned. “For what?”
“For standing with me back there.”
He meant the argument with Hosea.
Arthur shook his head. “It wasn’t about taking sides.”
Dutch let out a breath. “I think Hosea’s getting old. He’s not the man he used to be. He’s grown cautious about everything.”
After a brief silence, Arthur asked, “Are we going after Bronte to rob the bank, or to get revenge for the tram station?”
Dutch replied vaguely, “Both. Neither. Does it matter?”
“We need that bank. And Bronte controls the Saint Denis police—hell, he controls just about everything.”
“He set us up just because I refused to kill that newspaper owner for him.”
“Oh. And there’s Davey.”
Dutch had always disliked Davey, but he had to admit he hadn’t actually done anything against him.
When Arthur heard Davey’s name, he suddenly felt that going after Bronte might not be such a bad idea.
Bronte was Dutch’s enemy—and Davey’s as well. Davey had told him before: they looked like partners on the surface, but in truth, each wanted the other dead.
“I get it. But those people are looking for us.”
“We’re in a bad spot.”
By “those people,” Arthur meant the Pinkertons.
What Dutch and Arthur didn’t know was that Davey had already begun cooperating with Pinkerton’s upper ranks.
From another angle, if Arthur went to Davey and asked him to call off the Pinkertons, there was actually a real chance it could happen.
The Van der Linde Gang had committed plenty of crimes in the West, but compared to the entire United States, they were hardly worth mentioning.
Under pressure from higher authorities, Milton and Ross would have no choice but to bow to Davey and abandon the hunt for the Van der Linde Gang.
Dutch’s expression darkened when he heard Arthur’s concerns.
“You people seem to have forgotten where the money comes from.”
“Do you know how much it costs to feed more than twenty people?”
“Alright. Thanks to the Callander brothers, we’re down to eighteen now.”
“So how much do you think it’ll cost to send eighteen people overseas for a new life?”
Arthur understood the gang’s difficulties. “Let me ask you something, Dutch.”
“Is the Tahiti Plan really going to work?”
By now, not just Hosea and Arthur, but many others had begun to doubt Dutch’s mango-growing dream.
Dutch shot back, “What do you think, Arthur? Will it?”
“Damn it, have a little faith.”
“I’m fighting like hell to build a better future for all of us.”
“I know, but—”
“But, but, but…” Dutch’s voice edged toward hysteria. “Since when did you get so short-sighted?”
“If you think we’d be better off splitting up and going our separate ways—”
“Then just say it.”
“Of course not,” Arthur replied immediately.
“This isn’t a prisoner-of-war camp. I’m not forcing anyone to stay.”
“So we either carry this together and find a way out together—”
“Or we break up.”
Arthur fell silent.
It was the first time he had ever heard Dutch say those words.
And it frightened him.
He had grown up in the Van der Linde Gang. If the gang really fell apart, where would he even go?
He felt lost, tense, uneasy.
In the end, he pushed the thoughts aside.
Just follow Dutch.
And keep going.
...
Saint Denis Dock.
Davey watched as Samuel Grayson, a senior Pinkerton executive, boarded a luxury liner and departed.
Grayson had originally planned to stay for a day, but a phone call changed that—an important client needed to meet him in person.
So he had no choice but to return.
To Davey, Grayson was nothing short of a benefactor.
Because of Pinkerton’s predicament—and because of Grayson’s decision—Davey now held tremendous political power.
That power was tangible, especially within Pinkerton’s operations in the West.
It also meant that Davey had stepped onto a much bigger stage.
Standing at the dock, Davey let out a quiet sigh.
The Pinkertons—once the force the Van der Linde Gang feared most—had now become the ladder to his ascent.
Fate really did work in strange ways.
--
Author's Note
Comments (0)
Please login or sign up to post a comment.