Lady Vixen (37 page)

"You
are a fool if you believe that!" Christopher snapped, his gold eyes
blazing with exasperation. "Listen, Jean, this time you have gone too far!
You have killed three men in the Revenue Service! Do you think Claiborne is
going to sit still for that? He's bound to go to the legislature for troops and
money to wipe you out. If you release the men, it will soothe some tempers and
appear that you are not just some ordinary pirate— murdering and holding for
ransom anyone who crosses you."

Lafitte's
eyes were sly as he murmured, "I do not think Claiborne will get far with
his requests. Gold,
mon ami,
in the right pockets has a way of making
certain men in the legislature deaf to the governor's pleas."

His
temper rising, Christopher snarled, "Very well, bribe your way out of
it—this time! But I warn you, your day is past, Jean. Law and the enforcement
of it is growing and you cannot flout it forever. You are a damned jackass for
not realizing that public sentiment is growing against you!"

"Bah!
What do you know of public sentiment—still they flock to my sales. This latest
at the Temple, despite Stout's stupid move, was a tremendous success. Every
other day I still ship out contraband by way of Donaldsonville and still I find
eager buyers—buyers who do not want to pay the price of your so honest
businessmen! Let your smug merchants compete openly with me, and we shall see
who benefits the buyers best."

His
jaw set, Christopher rose to his feet. "We will have to agree to disagree.
But for the devil's own sake, Jean, release those men to me!"

Lafitte
watched him over his steepled fingers. Christopher could see him weighing the
advantages of keeping the hostages over the disadvantages. A long silence drew
out and then Lafitte said, "Very well, I shall do it, but only to prove
that I am an honest man who was protecting his goods and his men."

Christopher
was not going to argue with him. All he wanted now were the prisoners and
pirogues to transport them back to New Orleans. Coldly he asked, "We can
leave today?"

Lafitte
shrugged. "If you wish. I can lend you three small boats. A few prisoners
are unharmed except for bruises and such, and they will be able to man the
boats. I can also, as a sign of my good intent, give you enough food for the
journey. My own men will escort you to within a few miles of the city—you have
no objections to this?"

He
did but there was nothing he could do about it. He only hoped Lafitte's men
wouldn't cut their throats in the swamps. Hiding his reservations, he said
indifferently, "None!"

They
regarded each other across the few feet that separated them. After so many
years of friendship they were on opposite sides for the first time. It was
Lafitte who said quietly, "It is a pity, is it not, that we are so far
from our rapport of only a few months ago. I trust you, my friend, do not
betray me."

Christopher
didn't answer him. He knew and Lafitte knew that while they might be on
opposing sides in the months to come, the past had forged a bond that would be
impossible to break.

"What
of Allen Ballard?" Lafitte asked suddenly, breaking their uneasy silence.

Christopher
shrugged. "I still want you to hold him prisoner, if you will?"

Lafitte
nodded slowly. "Of course, we are still friends enough to grant each other
favors, are we not?"

Ignoring
that comment, Christopher continued, "You can unchain him, but make
certain he does not escape. I am sailing for England within the week, and
whether or not I return by September, I would like for you to release him
then."

Surprise
lifted one black brow and Lafitte repeated,

"Release
him? A spy?"

His
face expressionless, Christopher said, "Yes. I made a promise to do so. We
have little to fear from him then. The information he possesses will be several
months old and useless."

"You
have changed indeed, my friend. There was a day you would have ordered his neck
broken without compunction."

"Perhaps.
It may only be that it pleases my vanity to be magnanimous and free him."

Lafitte
gave an expressive wave of his hands. "Very well, it shall be as you
wish."

There
was little else to keep Christopher on Grand Terre, so he rose from his chair
and said, "I'd like to leave as soon as possible, if you don't mind; let's
get on with it."

They
exchanged no further conversation, and some two hours later Christopher, the
prisoners, and their escorts were on their way back to New Orleans.

It
was not a difficult journey, although it was unpleasant. At night he found it
impossible to sleep, for he didn't quite trust the crude-mannered men Lafitte
had sent to escort them. And the prisoners themselves worried him—three or four
were dangerously wounded, the others were weak, and he hoped none would die
before they reached the city.

None
did and he couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped him when their
unwelcome escort left them a few miles south of the city. The final miles were
covered in complete quiet, and in the gloom of the rapidly falling dusk
Christopher picked out the small pier and warehouse in the wharf area near
Tchoupitoulas Street which he and Jason had chosen for their rendezvous.

Silently
the three pirogues glided up to the pilings, and as Christopher gained the pier
in one supple leap, he noticed a small group of men that had been standing near
the rundown warehouse start forward. He recognized Jason in the lead and with
surprise Daniel Patterson, his naval uniform looking out of place in the
squalid part of the city. He hadn't been certain how the exchange would take
place, and the fact that Jason was here, now, filled him with faint misgivings,
and his first thought was of Nick—something had happened! But at his
questioning glance Jason shook his head slightly and murmured, "No, she
hasn't ruined me; I merely thought it expedient if I were here. Patterson isn't
well pleased with the way I took matters into my own hands. And how he found
out about our little scheme, I'd give a great deal to know. It would seem that
the Navy's spies are not as useless as I thought.

"And
I do have news for you—you sail day after tomorrow, on Thursday. But enough of
that, I'll explain later, and tell me, how goes it?"

By
now Patterson's men were swarming over the three pirogues and helping the
ragged prisoners onto the pier. Some were able to do it on their own, but
others, unable to walk, were quickly placed on stretchers and carried away.

With
his eyes on the scene as the men were swiftly escorted from the area,
Christopher answered indifferently, "It went as well as I could expect.
Jean returns them as a sign of good faith, protesting that he was only trying,
as would any good citizen, to protect his merchandise."

Jason
gave an exasperated grunt. "It's not that simple, and Lafitte damn well
knows it!"

Christopher
merely shrugged, but before he could comment, Patterson, his face set, came
marching over to where they stood.

Commodore
Daniel T. Patterson was an earnest young man. It was obvious from his stiff
greeting that he disapproved not only of Jason's interference, but also of
Christopher Saxon.

"I
would like to have a few words with you, if I may?"

The
request was more like an order, and Christopher was just a little bored by the
entire incident. An eyebrow flying up as if in rebuke to the other's surliness,
he drawled, "Now?"

"Now!"
snapped Patterson.

Christopher,
casting a gold, unblinking glance at Jason, wondered exactly what that
gentleman had let him in for. But Jason's face was unreadable in the falling
darkness, and Christopher was left with the growing conviction that Jason was
as eager for the questioning as was Patterson.

His
resignation apparent, Christopher sighed, "Very well, let's get it over
with. I haven't slept for many hours in the past two days and my temper is not
at its best, but if you insist. . ."

They
entered the building and a wave of damp and mustiness mingled with the faint
odor of long-ago stored spices drifted to Christopher. The wooden building was
empty, and the sound of their footsteps echoed hollowly as they crossed the
building. Patterson ushered them into what must have been the office when the
warehouse had been in use. The room was bleak—the only pieces of furniture two
rickety chairs long overdue for the rubbish heap and a scarred, ugly desk of
pine. The dim light came from a small lantern on the desk, and Christopher
suddenly wondered if he hadn't been the biggest fool in nature. He declined to
take one of the chairs offered and leaned instead against the wall, his arms
folded with apparent carelessness across his chest, his eyes watchful and
narrowed, as Patterson shut the door behind them.

Jason,
with a familiarness that bespoke of having been here quite a few times before,
gingerly opened one of the drawers of the desk and extracted three grubby glasses
and a bottle of cheap whiskey.

A
sardonic grin on his face, Jason said, "You'll forgive the quality of the
liquor, I hope. Most of the inhabitants of this area responded more readily to
this type of rotgut than to a smoother, more refined blend. Drink?"

Patterson
gave a negative shake of his head, not liking Jason's attempt to put the affair
on a more social footing. But Christopher, discarding the instant speculation
that the whiskey could be drugged and more to annoy Patterson than because he
wanted it, nodded and watched as Jason poured him a generous shot and then the
same for himself.

After
having waited until Jason had begun to sip the whiskey before tasting it
himself, Christopher eyed the two men in front of him. How much had Patterson
found out and how much had Jason told him, he wondered. Enough obviously for
the man to feel hostile, for it was painfully clear to see that the commodore
considered him just one step away from the notorious Lafitte. The questions,
when they came though, were not unanticipated and rather what he had expected.
How large a force did the Lafitte brothers have? How much ammunition? What
fortifications? What routes did Lafitte use to smuggle his goods into the city?
How many ships were moored at Grand Terre?

The
questioning went on, seemingly for hours, and to all inquiries Christopher
merely looked bland and murmured maddeningly, "I don't know! I didn't
count them and I'm really not interested enough to think about it to any great
extent. You're wasting my time and yours!"

Jason
appeared interested in nothing but the contents of his glass, staring at it as
if it held the answers Patterson sought. As the time passed and Christopher
proved no more cooperative than he had in the beginning, Patterson's temper
exploded. "Damnit! Answer me or I'll have you arrested—then we'll see how
not interested you are!"

"I've
taken enough of you, Patterson," Christopher snarled softly. "Arrest
me if you dare! If you are stupid enough to do so, I can promise you that
within forty-eight hours you will be meeting me at twenty paces on the Metairie
Road at
Les Trois Capelines!"

Patterson's
face paled. Whether from anger or Christopher's sheer effrontery was debatable,
but before Patterson could speak, Jason intervened.

"Daniel,"
Jason said quietly, "there are no charges to bring against him—and he did
negotiate the release of those men."

Stiffly
Patterson said, "I haven't forgotten, nor have I forgotten that Mr. Saxon
has had intimate dealings with that outlaw! That he could, if he wished, enable
us to put an end to the Lafitte brothers' infamous operations!"

Sighing,
Jason said, "I agree, but I also warned you that Mr. Saxon is a very
stubborn man."

He
looked again in Christopher's direction, and Christopher, prompted by some imp
of devilry, gave an impudent wink and murmured, "True, unfortunate from
your point of view, but you must admit... I did warn you."

Jason's
mouth tightened a little. "Someday, I suspect you will hang—as much from a
lawless streak as an unruly and overready tongue!"

Christopher
merely grinned at him, displaying his even white teeth. Pushing away from the
wall and placing his empty glass on the desk, he asked carelessly, "May I
leave now?"

"No!"
Jason said grimly. "Patterson is through with you, but I am not! And I
wonder at my own wisdom in using such a tool as yourself!"

Patterson
snorted, his opinion of Saxon's usefulness obvious, but he said nothing more
and departed abruptly after bidding Jason a curt good evening and rudely
ignoring Christopher.

When
he was left alone with Jason, the impudence died out of Christopher's eyes,
leaving them cold and forbidding. Deliberately he said, "I didn't
appreciate that. Neither the questioning, nor Patterson's being brought into
it."

Obliquely,
Jason regarded him. "I have made no secret of my feelings about Jean
Lafitte and you cannot hold it against me if I continue to pry as much
information out of you as is possible." Wryly he added, "I didn't
"Jean and I could have connived together. He could you—except that you are
a man of your word."