I pushed through the crowd to catch up with Lincoln and told him about the War Eagle’s apparent preparations to depart. Indeed, staring through the tall windows overlooking the river, we could see the wisps of smoke rapidly becoming thicker.
We gazed around the courtroom for Pound and his crew. None were present.
Lincoln strode up to Prickett, who was consulting some papers a few feet away. “You’ve ensured the continued attendance of the ship’s crew for the remainder of the case, haven’t you?” Lincoln asked.
Prickett put down his documents. His face shone in all innocence. “Why should I have done that? I’ve rested my case. Or perhaps you were too busy making that little speech of yours to hear.”
Lincoln turned to me with an anxious look. “If I can’t call the captain,” he said quietly, “I’ll have to call you as the agent of the boat owner.” I must have looked shocked, because he added, “I’d avoid it if I could, but I don’t see any other way.”
“Well, Lincoln?” called the judge over the boisterous crowd. Silence descended at once. My heart was beating so loudly I was afraid everyone could hear it. “You were so eager to begin. Who’s your first witness?”
“I call Captain Richard Pound,” announced Lincoln.
There was, of course, no Pound to step forward. The crowd started chattering excitedly. Judge Thomas squinted around the smoky courtroom. “Where is he?” demanded the judge.
From a back corner, someone shouted out, “I saw him heading toward the levee not five minutes ago. All his crew was with him too.”
“Did you secure the captain’s presence through service of a subpoena, Mr. Lincoln?” asked the judge.
“My brother Prickett had assured me he was calling him during his case, so I saw no need to do so.”
“You saw no need to follow the proper procedures, you mean,” said the judge, glaring at Lincoln with disdain and disbelief. “You did so at your own peril, and now you and your client will bear the consequences.”
Bingham and Tessie looked at each other frantically. Lincoln was pale. He looked over and nodded toward me. There was only one thing to do.
I stood up and faced the gallery. “The captain’s fleeing from justice,” I shouted. “He must be brought back. Who’s with me?”
Without waiting for a reply, I pushed my way through the crowd, which was shouting with excitement, toward the entrance to the shipping offices. By the time I got to the door, four other men stood there, a ragged assortment of townsmen. I had hoped for more. Glancing at them, I sensed at once that they were motivated neither by antipathy toward Pound, nor by enthusiasm for Lincoln or Bingham, but rather because the prospect of a quasi-sanctioned kidnapping seemed more exciting than another hour in the courtroom. But whatever their motivation, I was in no position to refuse the help.
“You and you, come on board with me to get him,” I said, pointing to the two largest men in my newly formed gang. “You two others, make sure the ship doesn’t cast off in the meantime. Let’s go.”
We raced down the hillside. Within a minute, we were at the approach to the levee. The War Eagle’s stacks were belching smoke now, and I thought I saw the wheel at the back of the ship starting to strain against the waters. A dockhand was bent over at one of the pilings, working away at the knotted ropes. The appointed men descended on him, while the other two followed me up the plank.
Unchallenged, we scrambled up to the hurricane deck and along the walkway to the barbery. I forced open the door to the captain’s hidden office with a great heave.
Captain Pound looked up from behind his massive mahogany desk. Hector was at his side, breathing loudly. Pound’s heavy revolver was lying in front of him on the desk.
The men following me shrank back at the sight of Hector in such close, unregulated proximity.
Pound and I stared at each other. Without any hurry, he reached out his hand with the five golden rings and picked up the revolver. I had full confidence it was loaded this time.
“From the very first time you entered this room, young Speed,” said Pound, “I feared our relationship would not end well.”
“You’re needed in court as a witness,” I said, willing myself to ignore Hector and the gun and keep my eyes focused on Pound. I could only deal with one problem at a time.
“I’m needed here,” said Pound. “I’ve determined it’s time to steam off to the next port. As captain of the ship, that decision is mine and mine alone.”
“I hereby relieve you of your captaincy.”
Pound glanced over my shoulder at my two fellows, who had—at the least—not yet fled, but whose deflated postures betrayed little appetite for battle. Pound broke into a broad smile. His golden teeth glittered.
“I refuse.”
“It wasn’t a request.”
“Nonetheless, I refuse it.”
I took a deep breath and decided to pursue a new tack. “Why are you afraid of testifying?” I asked. “If you did nothing wrong, you should be happy to tell the court what you know. If you have evidence Bingham truly is the murderer, why not share it with the jury?”
“None of this is my concern,” said Pound. “You can leave the boat voluntarily, right now, or Hector can help you off.”
“If you help me, Hector, I’ll make sure you’re provided for,” I said, turning to the man-mountain. “Pound’s done for, one way or the other.”
“I would like to help you, Speed,” the crewman said in his deep voice, “but I am loyal to my captain. He save me. You know that.”
“He can’t take care of you anymore,” I said. “His command is over. Not just on this ship but on any other. Once it comes out what’s been going on aboard his ship, with his knowledge, no doubt, he’ll never steam again.”
“And what exactly,” Pound asked with a sneer, “do you believe has been happening aboard my ship?”
“Don’t answer that,” came a raspy voice from behind me.
I swung around. Nanny Mae was standing in the middle of the barber’s shop. One of her arms was leaning on her walking stick. My sister was supporting her other arm.
“Let me speak with the captain alone, Mr. Speed,” the old woman directed.
“He and I have unresolved business,” I said.
“Your business cannot be more important than mine.”
“What business could you have with him?” As far as I knew, the two were strangers. They had never acknowledged one another in the courtroom, nor while Nanny Mae had been on board the ship. “I’ve relieved him of his captaincy, but he’s refusing to leave the ship. And he’s needed in court to testify.”
“Those are precisely the matters I intend to speak to him about,” she returned.
“You’ve been trying to impede us from the moment you came aboard with Martha,” I said. “Why should I let you conspire with Pound now?”
“Because it’s your only chance.” She hobbled past me and settled herself in one of the chairs at Pound’s desk. “Hector, please escort Mr. Speed out and leave us be.”
The man-mountain looked at his captain. Pound gave a long sigh and nodded. His eyes wide, Hector grasped my arm and led me from the office. The door slammed shut.
“I was leaving the courtroom to follow you when she called to me,” said Martha. “At first I thought she was trying to prevent me from coming to your side, but she insisted she could aid our cause if I helped her make it to the levee on time. So I did.”
“Why would she want to help us? If I didn’t know better, I’d guess she had something to do with the murder herself.”
“I’ve been trying to figure out the same thing,” said Martha.
“How do the captain and Nanny Mae know each other?” I asked Hector.
The man-mountain shrugged his broad shoulders.
I turned back to Martha. “What was happening in court when you left?”
“Lincoln asked the judge if he could wait to see if Pound could be retrieved, but the judge refused. So Lincoln called Tessie as his first witness. From the way he started his examination, I think he’s planning to go very slowly, to give you as much time as possible to produce Pound.”
“He’s going to have to wait a long time, unless Nanny Mae can perform a miracle in there. My gang”—I jerked my head toward the doorway, where my two fellows were lingering—“turned out to be a poor one. If it’s the three of us against Pound, his revolver, and Hector, I don’t like our chances.”
“Me neither,” intoned Hector.
Time passed. There was nothing to do but wait. Eventually, the door to the captain’s cabin opened, and Pound shuffled through it. His face sagged even more than normal, and his eyes lacked their usual malicious gleam.
“Walk with me to Captain Ryder’s offices, Hector,” he said. The man-mountain gaped at his captain as if he’d lost his mind.
Nanny Mae was still inside the captain’s office, resting her weight against the desk. Her broad face gave no hint of emotion.
“Leave the firearm, Richard,” she said.
Without a word, Pound reached into the pocket of his captain’s coat, removed his heavy pistol, and tossed it onto the desk.
“Is this a trick?” I said.
“It’s no trick,” said Nanny Mae. “Let them pass.”
I stepped aside. As Pound reached my position, he glared at me. “Don’t think you’ve won,” he said in a low voice full of sorrow or menace or both—I couldn’t tell. “You haven’t won, Speed. This has got nothing to do with you.
“Come along, Hector. We have much to discuss on the way up the hill.”
Pound and Hector departed. I gestured to my fellows that they should follow the two sailors back to the courtroom. Soon, Nanny Mae, Martha, and I were alone. I stared at the old woman again, and again I could not fathom her emotion.
“How did you convince him?” I asked.
“It’s the only true course,” she said. “I helped him understand that.” She gave me a steely gaze. The effect was twice as unnerving as Hector and Pound put together. Then she added, “There will be casualties in war, Mr. Speed. There always are.”