Brazier was well short of his happy marital conclusion when, well into the afternoon, the sound of horse’s hooves had him carefully turn toward the entrance to the smallholding. It was a stiff ex-commander who stood to greet the party of four, two of his old crew, all mounted, even Peddler Palmer, though the common expression he ever wore on a horse, one of acute discomfort, was there. Zachary Colton was in the lead, riding Bonnie, the usual wide smile on his face, which was matched by Joe Lascelles. Only Vincent Flaherty wore a frown, no doubt wishing to impart that a man he considered a friend might also be short on sense.
Once dismounted, Peddler and Joe were at a loss to know how to greet him, outside an enquiry to his being well; the barrier of rank prevented what might have been an embrace of the kind automatic for a shipmate. Yet he was content by their obvious pleasure at seeing him whole, as well as the sympathy for his wound.
Vincent took and shook his hand without vigour, while Zachary began to remove the tackle from the mare, a sure indication Brazier was going to keep her; hardly surprising as he’d paid a long-term rental in advance. Zachary led her away, heading for the tiny paddock and a braying donkey eager for company, which allowed for open talk.
‘I’d been after wondering if you’re sound in the head, Edward,’ Vincent remarked, ‘after it was told to me the rashness of what you’ve been about.’
‘Failure rates things rash, Vincent. Nothing successful is so described.’
‘But carrying muskets and barging into Tulkington’s lair …’
‘I did not barge,’ was a sharp response.
Vincent held up his hand to ward off what might come next, for the face before him was far from composed. Unbeknown to the Irishman, such a reaction stemmed from the word rash, added to the feeling Vincent might be right. Yet he felt the need to defend his actions as being brought about by necessity.
‘There’s no other way to get Betsey free,’ he said, easing himself slowly back onto the bench.
‘I don’t sense a past tense there, brother.’
‘Where are Dutchy and Cocky?’
Brazier asked this to divert; he did not want to contemplate where the last remark from Vincent was inviting him to go, not that he had any idea. It was Peddler who replied to the question, leaning over the well and drinking from the lashed-off bucket, water dripping from his chin as he spoke.
‘They be watching the house where Hawker’s men are holed up and, we reckon, some of Spafford’s lads, the ones who went with us t’other night.’
He went on to describe what they’d been about, how they’d been searching for him and had had the luck to stumble across Hawker and his men, along with what looked like wrapped bodies. He told how they had followed them to a farmhouse and decided to watch the place and see if anything turned up, meaning Brazier. Peddler also left out the thought they’d discussed, the notion one of the bodies could have been his.
‘Dutchy reckons it could be the place we was a’callin at afore the fight.’
‘Not all. Hawker left this mornin’, an’ I tailed him to a slaughterhouse on the edge of the town. Tannery as well, by the stink.’
‘Any sign of Tulkington?’
‘Since I’s never clapped eyes on the sod, outside the light of a lantern and for no more than seconds, I’d struggle to know.’
‘Do they know I’m alive?’
‘Not yet, Capt’n,’ was delivered with the kind of look which implied he was daft. ‘We’ll not go near them till the light fades, less they be spotted from the house.’
‘Do we have any notion of why Hawker’s lot are there?’
‘I’d be guessing.’
A look towards Joe got from him the information he’d stayed at the Navy Yard, as well as the reason why, and the manner in which he’d left. The presence of a high sheriff visiting Admiral Braddock − according to the clerk, asking about Quebec House − surprised his captain, who was left for a moment to consider the ramifications. He couldn’t reprimand Joe for ducking being questioned, but he did see the need to point out something obvious.
‘When it comes to what happened there, we are the innocent parties.’
‘Are you saying you’ll be seeking him out?’ asked Vincent.
The question threw Brazier back on to his conundrum. It was one he’d gnawed on since the probable nature of Tulkington’s business had been outlined to him by Saoirse Riorden: how would exposure of Henry affect Betsey? His desire to bring about the bastard’s downfall was strong, but there was no way he was going to put her at risk and, besides, he had given her his promise. If he’d been prepared to do so, he would have been in touch with William Pitt, a vastly more effective man than any county official.
The return of Zachary put an end to speculation, his enquiry as to who’d be staying met with looks at Brazier, though Vincent was quick to say he would not.
‘Never had this many mouths to feed, sir, since the army days.’
‘We need to get to our mates, either to haul them off or take them some grub so they can stay.’ Peddler looked at the still blue sky. ‘And drink, which they will need, havin’ been out all day. Tongues must be hangin’ out by now.’
‘Zachary, what can you provide, for which I will pay?’ Seeing the face move to an expression presaging refusal, Brazier added, ‘And do not say you will not accept. You will find my purse in my outer coat, take what you need.’
Apples and cheese were offered and accepted, as well as an old army canteen, which had been used to carry water when Zachary was assistant to Venables.
‘I now must ask if it’s possible for all of us to convene here and possibly overnight. You will have five mouths to cater for.’
‘No notion they should stay watchin’?’ Joe asked.
‘They’ve been out one night already, Joe. If there’s watching to be done, and it will be for Dutchy to advise, it will be you and Peddler.’
‘What happens then?’
‘I don’t know. There could be any number of possibilities, but one thing is certain. I need to be fit enough to look at matters myself.’
‘We won’t be givin’ up, then?’ Vincent asked.
‘It’s not my habit to do so.’
‘Do I tell Saoirse you’re safe?’
‘She knows what happened?’
‘I took the boyos there as soon as I heard the tale.’
‘How did she take it?’
‘Calmly I would say, she’s not a woman for display. Never asked why Joe was wanted when I sent Peddler to fetch him.’
‘Neither a woman for display or for a lack of discretion. Please let her know I’m alive and well.’
‘She’s bound to ask what you intend to do next.’
‘Did you not hear what I just said, Vincent?’
‘Sure, I did an’ all, but hearing is easier than believing. I don’t suppose any advice I give to let matters rest will get much attention.’
‘Thanks for what you’ve done so far. Next time we split a bottle of wine, it will be on my bill and a damn good one.’
‘I’ll say good day to you, then.’
A hand was held out by Brazier to be shaken once more. It was, but Vincent Flaherty was more taken by the look of determination in the eyes.
‘It was no joy to hear you might be dead, Edward. Nor is it you might be risking it come true.’
‘How many falls did you have as a jockey?’
‘Lots, and puff went the purse with it.’
‘And you got right back on, I’ll wager.’
‘I did when my bones healed.’
‘Bones, wounds? Same thing.’
John Cottin could be reasonably satisfied with his day, the events of which he was running over in his mind as he made his way back to Deal. His letter had gone off through the Sandwich franchise, he’d enjoyed a splendid lunch, while a note to the mayor had brought him to the Crispin Inn to take wine and enthusiastically damn the villains of Deal. Cottin’s supposition Sandwich was just as criminal when it came to smuggling was put aside for the mayor knew the men of whom he spoke.
In living memory, Deal had been under the jurisdiction of the ancient Cinque Port, according to his guest the breaking of which and the granting of a town charter to Deal being a grave error. Cottin now knew something of the personal failings of the men with whom he had dealt, not one, according to his informant, having anything which qualified them for office. Recollecting this polemic, he could smile at what was obviously rivalry from a much more sedate neighbour to one raucous in the extreme. Added to which, and this had been the real source of complaint, the income from the Downs anchorage, which had once filled the coffers of Sandwich, now provided the main revenue of Deal.
Even ruminating on these thoughts, he could not help but wonder how long Pitt would take to respond. Would he even read the letter, for in the office he held he must receive dozens every day? Cottin couldn’t just hang about forever: he had duties to attend to and matters coming in to his own office, which might be of more vital import in terms of reputation than the death he was now investigating. He too would be in receipt of much correspondence from Westerham and if it was sufficient to call him away, he would just have to go.
Back in Zachary’s sparsely furnished abode, with his host fussing over the grate and the food cooking therein, Brazier was wondering about the presence of this lawman. Not knowing any better, he took it as commonplace such an untoward death as Lionel Upton’s should draw such a personage to investigate. As he had no doubt who was the likely suspect, he was wondering how to play matters so the culprit faced justice, but without involving Betsey.
Already deduced, there would be no sign of Tulkington’s hand in the torching, but what about Hawker, who was cut from the same mould? Even if Henry set matters in motion, he was too wily to have his own actions visible. It was idly taking in Zachary’s back, added to his lack of alternatives, which prompted him to pose the question. He knew immediately it was one unwelcome as his normally smiling host spun round: he wasn’t smiling now.
‘Cottington Court is unknown to me.’
This had to be a lie, merely by the nature of the reaction. From such a deeply religious and cheerful soul, it had to be serious enough to warrant him breaking his faith. He had to remind himself the things he’d read about had happened long before Venables had won the services of Zachary. Added to which, the man lacked letters, so would not know what was in the journals. What he’d read had raised suspicions and, the more he thought on it, perhaps something objectionable, though he was no prude. Life in the King’s Navy inured you to much, while relations between men which transcended mere friendship were far from uncommon. One of the first lessons a new naval officer learnt was when to apply the ‘blind eye’, given no ship of war was free of activities forbidden by the Articles of War.
HMS Diomede had carried a crew of over three hundred men, the total varying but not by much. Some of the first rates in which Edward Brazier had served as a rising lieutenant mustered crews of over eight hundred. They were made up of young men from any number of backgrounds, usually several nationalities, and would number a few women, those never enough for the crew numbers. The gunner’s wife excepted, women were technically barred from being aboard.
The Articles of War stood as the bible by which navy discipline operated, formidable in the number of offences it prohibited, the most common requiring a loud step, the warning of approach, being gambling. No matter what the admiralty said, it could not be stopped; Jack tar would always find a way and a place discreet enough for a bit of wagering, cards and dice, though the latter were noisy, with men to warn of the coming of authority.
The purpose of a man-o’-war was to fight and defeat the nation’s enemies. Discipline had to be tight but not taut; a crew too heavily weighed upon by the ship’s officers were likely to become sullen. It was necessary to trust the petty officers, who would bring to the attention of their superiors if certain activities were getting out of hand, things which might harm the fighting efficiency of the ship. But they would not report or see everything as long as it was kept within acceptable bounds.
They too would turn the ‘blind eye’, sometimes even to acts bordering on indecency. Such men had to live close to the crew, while it was an axiom well known in the service someone seen as a bully or a sneak could, too easily, disappear on a dark and windy night in the middle of an endless sea.
If Venables had been inclined to anything untoward, could he have hidden it from a man with whom he lived so hugger-mugger, given there was not much more than room to swing a cat in this abode? In addition, Zachary had claimed an association with Venables which transcended one of pure master and servant. If the former had spent so much time at Cottington prior to serving with the army, could it have passed without mention in the time they’d spent here?
‘I thought you would know of it,’ was imparted with an ingenuous look.
‘And why would that be, sir?’
Zachary asked this over a bent shoulder, he having returned to his cooking, a pot in which he was boiling a pair of rabbits. So as I can’t see his face, was Brazier’s thought, but how to proceed? Nothing would come without being open. Was what he suspected true and who did it involve? He would need to be bold and take a risk of causing offence.
‘I took the liberty, since you left them out, of casting an eye over the diaries left by Mr Venables.’ The growl in the throat was low but audible. Was it anger or just seen as natural curiosity? ‘A quick glance, I do assure you. The name of the place was mentioned often and, since I know something of it myself, I wondered at the connection.’
‘It was a house and grounds my master took great pains to avoid.’
‘Why?’
‘He must have had his reasons, sir, but they were not told to me.’ The smile reappeared, but with a quality unlike before: it seemed forced. Soon he was looking at the man’s back again. ‘You too, sir, have a former slave as a servant and like me a freed man.’
‘I do, and he is here by invitation.’
‘Joe told me on the way how he came into your service and why. It’s a tale which elevates you for what was a truly Christian act. He claims to know you well, but I doubt he knows everything about your past.’
Was it just a change of subject or both, an attempt to deflect the line Brazier was taking by introducing talk of Joe? It mattered not, it was time to get things out in the open and it had to start with Zachary.
‘Cottington Court is a place I have good reasons to avoid.’ The turn was slow, the whites of the eyes very obvious in his dark-skinned face. ‘In relating how I got my wound, I didn’t tell you where I was shot, by whom I do not know, but it would have been on the instructions of a fellow named Tulkington, who owns Cottington Court, both of which frequently crop up in the first of the journals. There’s another name, Samuel Lovell, who seems to have been a particularly close friend of Mr Venables.’
‘If you say it is so, sir.’
‘A man who, it is implied, disappeared without explanation, this being the cause of some grief.’ No reaction. ‘Zachary, I’m going to tell you the full story of how I got my wound, so desist from stirring a pot, which scarcely needs it, and come and listen.’
There was reluctance: he didn’t want to hear what Brazier had to say, which only increased his suppositions. To ensure nothing was missed out on this occasion, he began at the beginning, telling how he met Betsey in Jamaica and what he took to be mutual attraction, not forgetting to add the disapproval of her Aunt Sarah.
‘Whose name, incidentally, is Mrs Samuel Lovell.’
The face didn’t move, which had Brazier think such an ability to avoid reaction must be natural to anyone who’d been a slave, put in a situation where even a lifted eyebrow showing a hint of doubt could qualify you for the whip. In any event it told him nothing, so there was no choice but to carry on with his arrival in Deal, the mystery of Tulkington’s objections to his pursuit of his sister, the beating he’d suffered and subsequent events, partly already related. The only one which got a serious reaction was the sham wedding, while the tale of the groom from Cottington turning up at his door, needing to be accommodated, got another of Zachary’s bromides about being a good Christian.
‘Was it Christian? It would have been best if I’d turned him away for he’d still be alive.’ The carapace of indifference Zachary had worn broke down then, surprise being the cause. ‘A mob was set upon the house to burn out me and my companions. Luckily, we were not present, but Upton was. For reasons I cannot fathom he failed to wake to the clamour, nor the heat and smoke, one of which took his life. His body, unidentifiable, was found in the embers. So someone committed murder.’
Zachary crossed himself.
‘You do not enquire as to why I’m giving you all this detail?’ A very slow headshake. ‘You see, having been open with you, I’m hoping you’ll be open with me.’
‘I best see to them rabbits, sir.’
Wanting to press home his point, Brazier was thrown by the noisy approach of his old barge crew. It was not a subject to pursue in such company.
‘By all means.’