“I’m not sorry,” he said. “I’d do it again if I could. But do it better. Get the job done.”

“Really?” Wilkie asked. “How will your parents react when they learn what you’ve done?”

Shame flashed across the younger man’s face, but it was gone quickly, replaced by disdain. Czolgosz raised his chin and spoke clearly. “The history of progress is written in the blood of men and women who have dared to espouse an unpopular cause.”

Wilkie leaned forward. “Keep talking.”

“People only have as much liberty as they have the intelligence to want and the courage to take.”

Wilkie nodded as though intrigued, which inspired Czolgosz to keep spouting off anarchist doctrine. He was mouthing someone else’s philosophy, and Nathaniel was certain he knew who it was.

He adjusted the knot on his tie, a signal to Wilkie that he needed to communicate something. Two minutes later they left the room, leaving Czolgosz still manacled to his chair.

“What is it?” Wilkie asked once they’d stepped into the hallway.

“Ask him about Emma Goldman. She runs an anarchist newspaper in Chicago, and he’s repeating direct quotes from her press. Find out if they know each other or if he’s ever worked for her newspaper. I think we can make a connection.”

Wilkie nodded, and they returned to the interrogation room. This time Wilkie unlocked one of Czolgosz’s hands so he could smoke a cigarette. The delicate dance to implicate Emma Goldman hit pay dirt soon after.

“Oh, I know her all right,” Czolgosz bragged. “She was glad to meet me and said I could be a soldier in her army.”

“Tell me more,” Wilkie said, and Czolgosz continued to boast about each encounter he’d had with the famed anarchist and professional rabble-rouser. It sounded as if he’d trailed her across the country to political speeches and rallies, tracking her down after each speech for another chance to bask in her fame.

Shame washed through Nathaniel, making it hard to hold his head up. This failure was going to haunt him for the rest of his life, but at least he could be sure everyone involved in this plot was captured. If Emma Goldman had inspired Leon Czolgosz to take three shots at the President of the United States, she must be made to answer for it.

Wilkie disagreed. “We can’t arrest her just because she’s met the gunman,” he growled.

They were walking back to the hotel after twelve hours of interrogation. It was dark and the streets were empty, but Nathaniel felt compelled to act. Guilt made him short-tempered and unable to think of anything beyond identifying everyone who’d played a role in the president’s shooting. Emma Goldman wasn’t the only anarchist Czolgosz had implicated. He’d referenced almost a dozen people he’d been consorting with, and most were well-known anarchists committed to the violent overthrow of the government.