The First Assassin by John J. Miller

not the only ones turning their backs on Washington during the secession crisis. Officers were leaving as well, resigning their commissions and heading home. Everybody in the chain of command knew about this problem, including Scott. The army was full of Southerners, especially in the officer corps. The drain was beginning to take its toll.
    “Where is this former lieutenant going?” asked Scott.
    “North Carolina.”
    “That state has not dissolved its ties to us.” For a moment, Scott was silent. Then he waved his hand dismissively. “He was only a lieutenant,” he said. “You will not miss him.”
    That was true enough, though the problem was far bigger than any single individual. Collectively, these losses were starting to affect manpower and morale. Every day seemed to bring a new desertion. By doing nothing in response, the army appeared content to let its men slip away at their leisure and join the ranks of a rebel movement.
    Rook worried that these resignations were not even the biggest problem. What if some of the officers who remained in uniform were actually disloyal? And what if they stayed behind because they wanted to become subversives? He recalled how he had ordered a captain to patrol a wing of the Capitol the night before Lincoln delivered his inaugural address. With all the rumors about the president’s safety, Rook wanted to be sure that the building was free of people who did not actually belong there. The captain seemed to do his duty well enough, and there was, of course, no trouble on the big day. Yet the man was gone within a week, after deciding that he owed more allegiance to Alabama than to the federal government. It made Rook realize that the army was perhaps vulnerable in ways that nobody had anticipated.
    “I’m beginning to wonder whom we can trust,” said the colonel. It was a risky thing to say. Scott was from Virginia, and there was talk among some Northerners that even he could not be trusted. Rook certainly did not want to make any such implication.
    “If we acted against these men, the consequences could be terrible,” said Scott. “It might strain relations between North and South even further—”
    Rook could not stop himself from raising his eyebrows in disbelief. He immediately regretted it. The expression had caused Scott to stop talking, as if he had been interrupted. The general did not like being interrupted.
    “Colonel?”
    “Seven states are already gone, sir,” said Rook. “They have seceded. How much more strained could relations become?”
    “There is no fighting.”
    “Not yet. But if you weren’t worried about the possibility, you never would have brought me into your service.”
    Before the general could reply, Locke burst into the room. He made straight for Scott with a piece of paper in his hand.
    “This just arrived from the telegraph office,” he said. “It requires immediate attention.”
    He handed the paper to Scott, who held it at an angle to catch the light of a lamp. He grimaced. “It’s from Crittenden,” he said. The contents clearly irritated him. “Bring me pen, ink, and paper!”
    John Crittenden was one of the country’s best-known politicians. He had served as attorney general for three different presidents. Most recently he had been a senator from Kentucky, a state that permitted slavery but which had not seceded. It would not secede if Crittenden had anything to do with it: he was a strong unionist.
    Locke scampered out of the room and came back with pen, ink, and paper. He handed them to the general, who did not move his chair to the table. That would have required an enormous effort. Instead, he leaned way over to his left and scribbled a message.
    He waved the paper in the air to help the ink dry and looked at Rook. “Colonel, we have fallen upon evil days. To think that a man who has known me so long and so well as my old friend Crittenden should find it necessary to send me a telegraphic dispatch to which I have to