Page 19 of With a Vengeance

“Now she has nothing,” he says.

“On the contrary, I have dirt on all of you,” Anna says. “This was just a hint of what’s in my possession. And I have copies of everything.”

Lapsford, less certain than he was a second ago, storms up to her. “Where’s the rest? Is it on this train?”

“By now, I hope I strike you as being smarter than that.”

“Then what’s this all about?” Sal asks. “Why the hell are we here?”

“To blackmail us,” Edith says with disapproval, as if she herself isn’t guilty of far worse.

Herb mops his brow again. “If it’s money you want, I don’t have any.”

“Even if you did, I wouldn’t take a penny of your blood money,” Anna says.

“Then what do you want?” Lapsford says.

“She wants to kill us.”

Judd Dodge is the one to say it, his words bringing instant silence to the car. Standing with the scrap of blueprint still between his fingers, he rotates slowly, facing the others. “Don’t you see? She brought us here to murder us. This trip—thisnight—is her chance for revenge, and it’s been a long time coming.”

“I have no desire to kill you,” Anna says, leaving out how shehad certainly considered it. As she pored over the evidence gathered by her aunt, her brain filled with violent thoughts. Of strangling them with her bare hands. Of holding them underwater until their eyes bulge and their faces turn blue. Of stabbing them, shooting them, stomping them to pulp.

Even now, she scans the lounge, looking for weapons, seeking out things that could inflict the most pain. A corkscrew, for instance, that could pluck out Sal’s eyes. Or a wine bottle that, when broken, could be plunged into Lapsford’s meaty neck. The knife at her thigh pulses coldly against her skin.

But killing them isn’t enough. Anna realized that early on. While a flash of righteous violence would feel glorious in the moment, it wouldn’t satisfy, it wouldn’tlinger.What she needs is something longer. Something drawn out to a torturous degree. What Anna wants is for each of them to lose the will to live—and then be forced to keep on living. Only then will she be satisfied.

Revenge is fleeting.

Vengeance lasts a lifetime.

“Death,” she tells Judd, “would be a mercy for you all. And considering what you did to my family, I’mnotin a merciful mood.”

She spreads her arms wide, gesturing to the lounge’s walls and the windows through which nothing can be seen but dark sky, an even darker landscape, and whirling flakes of snow.

“This train is expected to reach Chicago at seven tomorrow morning. Roughly two hours ago, the head of the FBI’s Chicago field office received a package containing the rest of the evidence I have against you. With it was a letter alerting them to our arrival time and a suggestion that they be waiting for us on the platform, arrest warrants in hand. If you’re lucky, maybe J. Edgar Hoover will be there to greet you. He loves being in the spotlight, and this is going to shine a bright, blinding light onto your crimes.”

As Anna talks, it feels like a fire is growing in her gut, theflames leaping through her rib cage, setting her heart ablaze. Intense heat courses through her limbs. If her eyes start to glow orange, she won’t be surprised. Such is the strength of her fury.

“All of you will be arrested, tried, and, I’m certain, convicted by both the judicial system and the court of public opinion. You will become the most hated people in America, just like my father was. You will lose everything, just like I did. You will go to prison—and you will die there. Maybe as quickly and as violently as my father. Or maybe you’ll end up like the Rosenbergs.”

Anna pauses, allowing all of them to think about Julius and Ethel Rosenberg, who’d been electrocuted the previous year. She assumes they’re imagining a fatal current coursing through their own pained bodies. At least, she hopes they are.

“It’s my personal goal for all of you to have long, healthy lives. And when you do eventually die, broken, miserable, and alone, no one—absolutely no one—will mourn you.”

Anna had spent almost a year on that speech, honing every word, rehearsing it so much it has settled into her bones and become a part of her. In all that time, she thought she’d feel all-powerful after finally speaking it to those who had wronged her. A goddess of vengeance cursing her enemies.

But now that her intentions have been revealed, uttered aloud and therefore unable to be taken back, Anna feels not euphoria or relief but exhaustion. The fire inside her is now a faint flicker, allowing sadness to creep in at the edges. She misses her family. She misses her old life, not to mention her old self. And she’s tired. So very tired. It had taken such a long time to get here—and there’s still so much further to go. Eleven hours, to be precise. And she needs to be alert for all of it.

“Now,” she says, “are there any questions?”

Lapsford speaks first. “Do you seriously expect us to just sit here and wait to be taken directly into the hands of the FBI?”

“Yes,” Anna says, when the truth is she assumes very few of them will go down without a fight. All the more reason for her to be on guard until the very end of the journey.

“Well, you are sorely mistaken about that,” Lapsford says. “Because I will be getting off this train at the very next stop.”

Anna remains silent, knowing something Lapsford doesn’t. In the previous month, she and Seamus had taken the Phoenix from Philadelphia to Chicago a total of ten times. Sometimes they had rooms in first class. Others were long journeys spent sitting up in coach. No matter their accommodations, they used each trip to take copious notes. Now Anna knows where the Phoenix will be located at all times, what other trains pass it and when, and what stations dot the entire route.

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