The Perils of Command (17 page)

‘Of course, and you will need stout shoes in which to walk.’ As she turned to re-enter the parlour, Barclay added, ‘Devenow, search the place and see if you can find that for which we came.’

Devenow indicated a couple should follow him and he squeezed past his captain’s wife. Barclay hoped for all three of Pearce’s stupidly named Pelicans – they stuck together like glue – which would justify the expedition in the eyes of others. What they would think of taking up a woman who was clearly his wife he declined to consider, for it could not be avoided.

Emily turned to go and pack, only to find her husband hurrying close to whisper, ‘It would pain me if you mention your condition.’

‘Never fear, Husband, if I do not know what you are about I can guess there are things best kept undisclosed.’

That was rewarded with something close to a smile; he had seen it for what it was, a definite olive branch, and he followed that with a slow hand to indicate she should carry on. From inside he heard Devenow crashing about and wondered if he should stop him, only to reckon it made no odds; Hamilton would guess what had occurred and he could go to hell for all Barclay cared.

Up on the roof Michael was in a bind; he too could hear the banging and crashing as furniture was moved and doors to cupboards hauled open at speed, lest lurking behind
them lay someone armed and dangerous, and the sounds were getting closer.

The water, when he lowered himself into it, made him gasp, for if it was not cold in these parts neither was it summer. Off came his hat to be placed under his leg so it would not float and he sat with the water up to his neck and his head resting against the rim of the cistern, listening for the sound that might precede discovery; heavy footsteps on the stairs.

They came eventually, which had him take in as much air as his lungs would hold and when he judged them about to exit onto the roof he lowered himself gingerly into the cistern until his head was underwater. Would a diligent body have found him? He did not know for he could neither see nor hear. Eyes closed he sat still, unable to release any air given that would cause a bubble, until he could do so no longer.

Michael came up as slowly as he had submerged, ready to leap out and fight if that was the only recourse. The roof was empty but sense told him to stay put and he sat in the water shivering until he heard the sounds of the party leaving. He had no need to see if Emily was with them after he had searched the now empty house. Barclay had what he had come for.

Heads were close together once more at the ex-smugglers’ mess table and if Cole Peabody was hissing his words low enough not to be heard outside his circle, they were still full of irritation.

‘What narks me is that you don’t think things through.’

‘What’s to think on, Cole? We do as you say and put a knife into Pearce’s ribs. He does what we ask or he dies.’

Cephas Danvers imparted this with conviction, a feeling shared by the other two judging by their vigorous nods, which got a snorted response from Peabody.

‘Simple as kiss my hand, eh?’

‘Can’t see what can go wrong,’ opined Dan Holder.

‘Well, if you don’t reckon that flawed there’s nowt for you but the rope. We is goin’ to get to the entry port with a knife showing, a bluecoat with shit in his smalls and the watch officers is just goin’ to wave us by.’

‘Knife would be hidden,’ Holder protested.

‘So, Pearce says to the watch officer that he’s facing bein’ sliced and what happens then with a set of marines hard by?’
That produced no immediate response so Peabody carried on, his tone now full of ridicule. ‘The swine dies and we swing, is that the plan?’

None would catch his eye now, their heads were down and the eyes were examining the rough wood of their board. Fred Brewer was tracing circles with his forefinger on that surface too, a clear indication that he, like the others, had no alternative to offer.

‘Well, it’s a damn good job there’s one bugger with a sight of things at this table.’ The heads lifted slowly to engage with Peabody’s stare and to wonder at the sly smile on his face. ‘Do you recall what happened when we was bested by Pearce?’

‘Humbugged us good and proper,’ Cephas nodded.

‘But then what did he do?’

‘You know that as well as we, for the love of Christ.’

‘I do, Dan, I do an’ what I want you to think on is this. Given it were t’other way round, what would we have done? Say we’d caught him and his mates as intended.’

‘Cut their throats, that’s what.’

‘Aye. But we ended up where we is now, which tells you that Pearce ain’t got the guts for the cold kill.’

Fred Brewer shook his head. ‘It would be a caution to test out that one.’

Now it was Cole Peabody’s finger on the mess table, the point tapping hard. ‘The man is soft, that’s what I am saying. He should have seen to us all for good, that being the only safe way, but he does not, he chooses a path that gets rid but not forever. So that makes him spineless an’ to me there lies the way to get him to act as we wish.’

Dan Holder was shaking his head, which if it was sizable did not, on the reckoning of his mates, have much with
which to fill it and nor was his normally glaucous expression likely to alter that opinion, his words even less so.

‘I reckon to be well lost on where you is headed.’

‘But say he has a reason to keep his mouth shut an’ do as we bid?’

‘Stop playing us, Cole,’ Cephas Danvers growled, his dark brown eyes flashing. ‘If you has a way then tell us so we can look it over.’

‘He’s soft, right, not a’feart of blood in the right place, happen, but killing casual is not his way. So say we has in our grasp another, whose throat we reckon to cut if he does not get us off the barky. In my reckoning, Pearce is the sort to care for the life of another even if he has no kin cause.’

‘If you are wrong, mate!’

‘I reckon he’ll no more hand us to the rope than see blood spilt so his skin stays whole. Now I sense you don’t see it as I do, so think on that day outside Buckler’s Hard and what has occurred since. I reckon if you do that you will see what I see, an’ that is a man who reckons himself as wily as a fox. He had a chance to finish us an’ he shirked it. What we has to do is put him in the same boat now.’

‘As long as it ain’t this one,’ Fred Brewer sallied, his grin anticipating laughs from his mates; all he got was groans.

‘This be no time for joshing,’ was the heavy hiss from the toothless Peabody.

‘A mid?’ asked Danvers. ‘A young un’ will burden his mind.’

‘Never. Might catch one that’s set to be a hero, seeing they all want to be admirals one day. But the thinkin’ is sound, Cephas, a younker could serve well. I reckon on a nipper might do the trick. There’s one or two forever scampering
about and annoying all with their japes. Shouldn’t be too hard to catch hold of one of the nippers and …’

There was no need to say more and Cole Peabody sat upright to make that point. ‘Are we settled on it?’ Two nods and an ‘aye’ settled the matter. ‘Then we best be about our game. We’s set to raise Leghorn this very day.’

Pearce knew Hotham would have to summon him and was content to wait, though frustration entered into things when bell after bell was rung, watches were changed and still he was mainly left to sit in contemplation in the wardroom, avoiding polite enquiries as to his presence and from whence he had come, or the odd malicious stare from those who resented him.

An odd turn around the deck showed a fleet sailing in its three components but not in line ahead. Instead it was stretched out somewhat to cover a larger amount of sea, with lookouts in the tops hoping for the sight of a French topsail, while the mood below them among the officers was one of keen anticipation for they had been at anchor too long.

He was on deck when Toomey approached and demanded a written report of the mission to the Gulf of Ambracia, something Pearce declined to supply. The Irishman was told in no uncertain terms that any report he made would be verbal and if Hotham had any sense, his clerk too, they would see that in acceding they would be protecting themselves. His obduracy worked and he was eventually informed his presence was required in the great cabin, which he entered to find a stony-faced admiral awaiting him and standing for once.

‘I will keep Toomey by us to make a record of this conversation, Pearce.’

‘A record of your previous conversations would interest me, yet I suspect there are none.’

It always shocked such a senior officer to be addressed so, as if he was of no account. They were accustomed to obsequious acceptance of their natural superiority and Pearce watched as Hotham worked himself up to a rebuke. It never came.

‘Since you refuse to submit a written account, what Toomey writes will serve in its place.’

‘I do believe I would be usurping the privileges of Mr Digby if I were to put in writing what occurred. The glory for such an astounding outcome should go to the man who led the expedition, don’t you think? I do assure you, when it is read there will be a clamour to reward him.’

‘Clamour, Pearce?’ Hotham sniffed. ‘I rate you’re overpraising.’

‘Since you were not present, except in your malice, I care not a whit what you think.’

Hotham was not given to blushing but he reddened now and it was not from embarrassment but fury. ‘I cannot abide this, Toomey, call for a marine officer to remove Pearce. He can go to the cable tier until he learns some manners.’

‘I wonder how your marine officer will react when he hears we took possession of two fat French merchantmen and the man who brought the news and is partially responsible is to be confined. And will the wardroom not wonder what this is all about?’

‘You took prizes?’ Hotham demanded, a hand held up to delay his clerk.

‘We did – Levanters – and they are now in the process of being sold in Brindisi. Fully laden they were, so they will
fetch a good price. As for Mehmet Pasha, thanks to our recent exploits, I doubt he will trouble you for some time to come.’

Was it curiosity or greed that stayed the order that Pearce be arrested; it mattered not. Hotham wanted to hear what had happened, to find out why his machinations had gone so badly awry as much as anything else, Pearce reckoned. The admiral knew he was beyond censure for that: the precautions taken in having another write out the orders for the mission insulated him from harm.

Then, of course, there was the fair copy of the court martial record sitting in London. Had he been told about that or had Toomey supressed what must be a surprising bit of news? So far unmentioned it was impossible to tell, Hotham being no slouch at dissembling. Pearce knew he must temper his impudence too; continuing to rile the admiral would not get him what he sought.

Neither man opposed to him could know there was an element of guilt in John Pearce’s approach, given he was about to use what had happened in the Gulf of Ambracia to pursue a private matter, not, as he had indicated to Henry Digby, a combined assault to make Hotham pay for his actions.

Only desperation would make him act so: he needed a vessel of some kind – even a pinnace would do – and he needed orders to stay the hand of Ralph Barclay, and right now nothing mattered more.

‘Selling prizes in a foreign port!’ Hotham said eventually. ‘I could court martial Digby for that.’

‘Why bother, you will get your eighth.’

‘You think that is of interest to me, Pearce? I command a fleet and I would have the laws of the navy obeyed to the letter. Such principles are more important than money.’

The temptation to call him a liar had to be suppressed. Money was the subject closest to the hearts of all the King’s sailors, and admirals were the most avaricious of the lot.

‘Can I suggest, sir,’ Toomey interrupted, ‘that we hear what Mr Pearce has to tell us and then move on to how you react to what is a clear breach of standing orders.’

Hotham could not accede to that immediately; his dignity required that he appear to give it some thought, which had his chin resting near his chest for several seconds.

‘Very well, Toomey, but do not let the lieutenant depart without we come back to it.’

In the time of waiting, Pearce had fretted on his approach, the temptation to outline in clear detail what Hotham had hoped would happen, and his manoeuvres to bring it about, very strong. Emily Barclay and his need to get back to her obviated that. So it was with a degree of circumlocution that he made plain he knew precisely how the conspiracy had been laid out and what was its nefarious objective.

In terms of reaction he might as well have been talking to a wall. He was aware that Toomey’s quill might be moving at certain points but there was no accompanying sound of the nib scratching. The clerk was filleting out anything even loosely incriminating while recording that which would reflect well on his employer.

To the details of the action, Hotham kept his expression bland, as though such acts of heroism were commonplace. Pearce naturally played down his own contribution while emphasising the bravery and ability of others, not just Henry Digby but Edward Grey and his marines, as well as the ship handling of Matthew Dorling and the bravery of the crew.

‘So we have partially broken up a nest of piracy and
perhaps Mehmet Pasha will curtail his activities. If not, a ship of the line should be sent to persuade him.’

‘You will oblige me, Pearce, by leaving such matters to those who have the responsibility for them. Now, the sale of these prizes.’

Pearce outlined the reasoning in the same way as he had explained it to Michael O’Hagan, receiving a distinct impression that Hotham saw the sense. Not that the admiral’s attitude to him softened; if he looked upon him at all it was with clear distaste.

‘And now I have a request to make.’

‘Indeed?’

‘I have been circumspect, Admiral Hotham, in my account, and I note that what I have said has been carefully filtered by Toomey—’

‘Nonsense,’ was the clerk’s shocked response; he had never suspected his actions would be noticed.

‘I am prepared to let that be for a consideration of that which I require.’

The word ‘require’ saw blood in the admiral’s face once more, yet given he suppressed a verbal response gave Pearce a strong feeling that he had the man worried and that meant Toomey had passed on what had been revealed.

‘I have no desire to shout from the rooftops that I was duped and played for a chump.’

That elicited a thin smile from Hotham. ‘Your
amour
propre
means much to you, I surmise.’

‘You will know by now, for you will have been told by Captain Nelson, that there was no sign of HMS
Semele
in Leghorn Roads.’ No response from either man: neither an acknowledgement nor a denial. ‘I doubt his whereabouts are
much of a mystery regarding the purpose on which he is engaged.’

That was fishing; Pearce had no certain knowledge that Hotham knew of the tangle of the Barclay marriage, yet he had, according to Nelson, information regarding that duel in Leghorn. Added to which, in their conspiring, he and Toomey had dangled a despatch for Naples as temptation to get him to accept the mission with Digby. It was left to Toomey to prevaricate.

‘It is the admiral’s habit to grant his officers a degree of licence in the execution of their duties.’

‘Does that include him being in search of his wife?’

‘I have no idea.’

‘I suggest that you do and it is not as simple as you may suppose. His previous actions lead me to state without equivocation that Captain Barclay is not beyond violence in that pursuit. You mentioned my care for my
amour propre
. I think you know there are few people who care more for how they are perceived by others than Ralph Barclay.’

‘It is a private matter and none of my concern,’ Hotham said.

‘And if he harms his own wife, will you stand by and just exonerate him because he is a client officer?’

The admiral tried not to allow himself to react to that but he failed. Involuntary it might have been, but the way the cheeks tightened he could not hide. That was when Pearce knew for certain that Toomey had told him of the court martial papers and the way it had been kept hidden. Whatever standing Barclay had enjoyed in this cabin was no longer as high as it had previously been.

‘I would also point out, though it should not be necessary
that I do so, a captain using a vessel of the King’s Navy for private purpose is highly irregular and should anything untoward occur the repercussions could be hard to contain. I would most certainly have no reason for silence and that applies to everything previously discussed and actions in the past.’