Read Watery Grave Online

Authors: Bruce Alexander

Watery Grave (3 page)

BOOK: Watery Grave
9.58Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“And did you not take that as a sign she was weakening? ” Again that solemn tone —and I so frightened and ashamed I thought I could not speak, though I knew I must.

But at last: “At the time, sir, I thought she was shamming. I … I can see now I was wrong.”

“And why did you think that, Jeremy?” asked Lady Fielding.

“Because I had often seen her lift heavier loads quite recent.”

“I’m sure,” said Sir John, “you can see the failure in your reasoning.”

“I can, sir, yes.”

“Well, now you must run and fetch the doctor —that man Carr, who treated Kate —that is. Lady Fielding —some time ago.”

“Yes, sir,” said I, grabbing up my hat and making quickly for the door.

Then, quite to my surprise, Tom Durham stepped forward and said to them: “I believe I shall accompany Jeremy. A walk would do me good just now.” And in three quick steps he was by my side.

With that, we went —and swiftly —I preceding, leading the way past Constable Baker and the empty strong room, down the hall and out the door to Bow Street. We said nothing to one another for some time as we moved along toward Drury Lane v/hereat Amos Carr kept his surgery in his rooms.

There was something I wished to say to you, ‘ said Tom to me at last.

“Oh?” said I, keeping step with him.” And what might that be?”

“You mustn’t take it hard the way they came down on you there. When things go wrong, people look around for someone to blame it on. It’s quite natural. I’m sure it was just as you said —that you stuck close to help her. I got cobbed twice on the
Adventure
just because I was the nearest. She’s a very old party, that one we carried up the stairs. She was headed for something like this.”

“You’re right about Mrs. Gredge. I’m sure of it.”

“Course I am,” said he confidently.” They’re decent people, my mum and your Sir John. And you were right to answer honest. They’ll think over vhat was said and consider the old bawd’s condition. You’ll not be cobbed this time out. Mark my words.”

Amos Carr examined Mrs. Gredge and pronounced her sudden attack no more than simple exhaustion: he prescribed bed rest. On his way out, he asked her age; no one seemed to know.

“Well,” said he, “she’s no babe. That’s plain to see. She can’t carry on as she once did.” He smiled wisely, as if convinced he had just imparted great wisdom to us, his listeners.” That will be five bob, Sir John.”

Seeing him to the door. Sir John dipped into his pocket, paid him off, and all but pushed him out.

“Remarkable!” said he to us.” Five bob to tell us Mrs. Gredge needs a rest! Well, come all, let us at last sit down to dinner.”

Yet before we were to do that, Lady Fielding had taken me aside and gave a quiet speech to me there in the kitchen.

“Jeremy, ” said she, “we feel we dealt with you a bit severely. You’ve looked after her interests. Sir John is the first to admit she is a difficult woman. She has her ways, as of all of us, you best know. In any case, Sir John and I agreed that your response to her behavior was not as unreasonable as we first judged it to be. After all, you remained in the kitchen. You were there to tell us of her collapse. Had you not been, who knows how long she would have suffered without our knowledge.”

Tom Durham, who had heard his mother through, though he pretended not to, made no comment to me —save for one. As she turned a”way from me, with her back to him, he offered me a most prodigious wink.

I carried in the roast and saw that it was somewhat the worse for wear. In her uncertain state, Mrs. Gredge had hoped to hurr)’ things along by building a fire that would well have burned Number 4 Bow Street to the ground if it were not well contained within our stout kitchen stove. As a result, it was burnt crisp and near black on the outside but was near raw on the inside. I knew that before the rest, for it fell to me to carve it. Lady Fielding made apologies, yet neither Sir John nor Tom Durham seemed to find fault.

The former, after a judicious bite or two, pronounced it “a good piece of English beef,” adding, “It is near impossible to spoil such a good piece of meat. You chose it, did you not, Jeremy?”

“I did, yes, sir.”

“Well done, boy, well chosen.”

And as for Tom, he seemed quite in a transport of delight.” I had near forgotten how beef in its natural state tasted,” said he, most enthusiastic, “so long have I endured salt beef. Jeremy, do please cut me another, a thick one, eh?”

Indeed he had finished the first in no time at all. I jumped to my task and cut a whole joint for him.

“Kate, dear girl, do these boys have wine to wash it down?”

“Enough, I’m sure, ” said she.

“Well … fill their glasses. What can it hurt?”

Resigned, she did as he bade.

“Let me assure you, Tom Durham, I recall the taste of salt beef— and its texture, as well,” said Sir John.

“Hard as a rock!”

And the two laughed heartily together, as if sharing a great joke.

“Then you, Sir John, ” said Tom, “you’ve been to sea?”

“Indeed I have!”

“His Majesty’s Navy?”

“H.M.S.
Resolute
, seventy guns, no longer in service.”

“But tell us about it, sir. When was that?”

Sir John waved his hand, dismissing the matter.” All too long ago to remember,” said he.” I would far rather know a bit of your experiences. The (/z///Y was detached to protect East India shipping, was it not?”

“Aye, sir.”

“But the East Indiamen are armed—well armed —are they not? Can they not protect themselves?”

“The East India Company asked for help. The
Adventure
gave it,” Tom declared proudly, “privateers, pirates, frigates, sloops, grabs. What we could not take as prizes, we left sinking, sir.”

“That sounds a proper report. You must give it me in detail now. But tell me first, Tom, what in the name of God is a ‘grab’?”

“Ah, well, that will take a bit of explaining, and then a tale to tell.”

“Then explain and tell your tale.”

Sir John leaned forward in anticipation, drained his glass of wine, and lifted it toward Lady Fielding for refilling.

“A grab, ” said Tom, “is a sort of galley — oars and sails —small and lightly armed, much favored by Angrian pirates. Now in itself it is nothing, a few small swivel guns, less than fifty men aboard. Yet they operate in fleets of five or six, sometimes more, along the iVlalabar Coast. They come in alongside under your guns and make to board. They’ve taken two East Indiamen just so. Now to the tale …”

“By all means the tale!”

“We were sailing just out from the coastline, at dusk it was —and I not much older than Jeremy here. We rounded a point of land protecting a cove, or a small bay —and we found them waiting for us. Of a sudden there came a swarm of these grabs about us, trom either side, six at least. In no time they were under our guns —only our own swivel guns were of any use at all then.”

“What, then, did you do?”

Sir John felt about and found his wineglass. He took a great gulp of claret as Tom held him for a moment in suspense.

“We fought them, by God, we fought them! ‘

What followed was a swiftly told narrative of the battle in which bits and details came forth as on a huge canvas which may seem in whole to be all ajumble. Tom gesticulated wildly over his joint of beef with his knife and fork. He cut the air with them, this way and that. He became quite carried away with the telHng of it —the steady musket fire kept up by the marines, the heavy cutlasses handed out quickly to the crew, pistol fire, resolute determination, desperate bravery. Though I had read such tales, I had never heard one told. I was all alive with the excitement of each moment he described. Sir John, too, listened close, held in fascination to the glorious end of it, in which all that had managed to board the Acrenture had been killed or captured. And the grabs from which they had come were burning and adrift in the night — though one or two had got away —and the British ensign flew yet high above.

Nevertheless, sometime during Tom’s recital I happened to glance at his mother. She was neither excited by the tale nor fascinated by his telling of it. Her jaw was set. Her lips were pursed. Her face expressed an attitude of stern disapproval.

Thus it was that when at last it was quite concluded, I was not entirely surprised, as Tom and Sir John seemed to be, when Lady Fielding rose to her feet and announced that she was for bed.

“I’m afraid the powerful sentiment of this day has exhausted me,” said she.” Jeremy, you’ll clear the table? ‘

I promised and declared I would do the washing up, as well.

“Good night then, Jack, Tom. Stay up as long as you like. I can see you have much to talk about.”

We three stood as she departed. Tom stepped to her, bestowed a kiss on her cheek, and whispered a few words to her just as she made her exit from the dining room.

Resuming our places, we sat in silence for many moments until at last Tom Durham spoke up.

“I fear I was the cause of that,” said he.

“Your story?” ventured Sir John.” I thought it a good one.”

“Oh, the story, I suppose—yet even more, my refusal to listen to her pleas for me to remain here ashore. I mean to ship out again on the A()i’entiire. She thinks she can hold me here by persuasion, and that you, Sir John, will make it right with the Navy. Aline was a seven-year enlistment—and lucky I was to get it. I haven’t thanked you properly for that — I never can. But obligation or no, I would return to the sea. It is the life for me.”

“Your mother spoke to me of this whilst you and Jeremy went forth after the doctor.”

“You understand my feelings perhaps better than she.”

“Oh, I understand very well, ” said Sir John.

“Your own time at sea, of course,” said Tom.

“Indeed,” said the magistrate.” Those years were happiest in my memory. But tell me, what has happened to that other lad who shipped out with you on the
Adventure
? I believe his name was Jonah Falkirk.”

“It was, yes. I regret to say he fell in the very battle with the Angrians I described. He caught a ball in the throat. Though I was separated from him in the fight, I’m told he comported himself well.” Tom hesitated but a moment; then he added, “I thought it best not to include that in my account with my mother present.”

“You thought well,” said Sir John.” But hear me, Tom Durham, I’ve a plan to put before you. First, let me ask you, did you return a landsman?”

“No sir, I was made ordinary seaman shortly after the battle with the grabs. Toward the end, with much of our crew Lascars, I was made a foretopman.”

“A foretopman, is it? Well, indeed! I think that excellent, Tom. I commend your progress. And it is specifically that I wished to address—your progress. I may have it in my power to beg for you an appointment as midshipman. What would you say to that, lad?”

Tom Durham was quite overwhelmed.” I know not what to say,” he blurted, then fell silent as he considered the matter.

“You would then,” said Sir John, “have an officer’s career ahead of you. You would have the advantage of your age, your maturity, and your experience as a seaman on a frigate. But I would not seek tor you a midshipman’s berth until I were to hear from you that you wanted it.”

“Oh, sir, I want it certain sure, ” said Tom Durham.” You may have no doubt of that. My only concern is this: If indeed you were to win for me a midshipman’s berth, I would not wish to return as such to HM.S.
Adventure
.”

“Tom, I understand entirely, and I think your attitude commendable. You would not want to be in a position of modest command above your former mates belowdecks —indeed commendable.”

“But do you think they would take me as a midshipman with my — with my history?”

“That is my problem, is it not? Remember, I said I may have it in my power. I make no promises. I had to know, first, however, if you would accept such a boon if it were offered you.”

“I would, sir, with great thanks.”

“Then with that step done, I may proceed. I believe, by the by, that it would ease your mother’s mind considerable if you were a midshipman. She no doubt has the mistaken notion that an officer —even the most junior of officers —is safer aboardship and in particular in battle than are ordinary members of the crew.”

Tom Durham smiled then with knowledge I did not have —and indeed would never have.” No doubt she does, Sir John.”

“It would ease her mind some — and make her proud of you.” Then, with an emphatic nod: “I shall see what can be done. But again, I have a question, or perhaps more than one, to ask of you.”

“I shall answer as well as I can.”

“I am sure you will.”

He tapped the table, as if deciding from which angle to attack the problem. Whilst he was thus engaged, Tom gave me an inquiring look, which I answered with a reassuring nod of my head. Then at last Sir John began again at the point where he had left us:

“It is not a usual thing for a ship such as the
Adventure
to return from near three years in the Orient and dock at Tower Wharf. Do you know why you have come to London and not to Portsmouth?”

“But a day ago,” said Tom, “I would have said no. Yet last night a most astonishing bit of news ran through the forecastle —near unbelievable, it was. To wit, sir, that one of our officers. Lieutenant Landon, had been confined to quarters and would stand before a court-martial.”

“What is the charge against him?”

“Murder — murder of the captain of the
Adventure
.”

Sir John seemed somewhat taken aback at this.” Murder, is it?” said he.” And when did this supposed murder take place?”

“That is a thing that struck us all as most peculiar, sir. The captain was washed overboard in a Fierce storm more than two years ago. It had gone down as an accidental death until now.”

“And why not now? What has changed?”

“Little that we know, except that Lieutenant Hartsell has lodged charges against Lieutenant Landon, an officer well loved by all, a decent man.”

“And who is Lieutenant Hartsell?”

“Oh, yes, of course, sorry, sir. He is the first officer o( the Arenture and has been our acting captain.”

BOOK: Watery Grave
9.58Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Terr5tory by Susan Bliler
The Triumph of Death by Jason Henderson
Hurricane by Douglas, Ken
The Lincoln Lawyer: A Novel by Michael Connelly
After the Fire by Belva Plain
Scattered Leaves by V. C. Andrews
Alicia by Laura Matthews
El Príncipe by Nicolás Maquiavelo