The Scent of Betrayal (19 page)

‘What do you mean?’

‘Will you, if you do discover who has stolen your treasure, hand our money back to us?’

‘That will depend on who has it,’ said de Barrameda.

‘Why should it depend on that?’ asked Harry.

De Coburrabias answered. ‘We do have to regain possession of it.’

‘Perhaps,’ de Barrameda added, with a sneer, ‘if it’s in a very inaccessible place, we can let you get it for us.’

Harry, who’d practically lounged in his chair throughout the discussion, sat forward suddenly.

‘Then I hope that it’s found aboard your ship. Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to come and take it off you.’

San Lucar de Barrameda shot to his feet, towering over the table, and his hand reached, several times, for the sword he wasn’t wearing – an action which, for all its venom, took a great deal of the sting out of his response.

‘How dare you say such a thing!’

James yawned. ‘You really mustn’t react like that, sir. After all, it was only a few hours ago that you accused us of exactly the same offence.’

‘I am an officer in the Spanish Navy.’

‘Ah, the poor King of Spain,’ James replied, ‘To be so ill served is a great misfortune.’

‘Sit down, please, Don Felipe,’ said de Carondelet. San Lucar de Barrameda looked set to argue, which produced another peremptory slap of the table from his superior, which forced him to comply. Then he faced the Ludlows.

‘This behaviour may amuse you, but it does not me. You may return to your ship if you give me your parole for the next twenty-four hours. If not, I will be forced to detain you here.’

Harry stood up, followed immediately by James.

‘Twenty-four hours, Barón. No more.’

The first obvious sign of their changed circumstances lay in the lack of an escort back to the levee, and the brothers walked in silence, each occupied with his own thoughts. Harry’s mind was working on two levels, tempted in spite of himself to speculate on the identity of the murderer and thief while at the same time angrily plotting his next move. Experience told him to be dispassionate about de Barrameda, but it was hard. He was never more than a day’s sail from the
Gauchos
in a galley, and his lying about them could be an attempt to cover his tracks. Against that
his ship had a substantial crew and, fresh from New Orleans, no need for food. Could such horrendous murders, which must have involved the women as well, have been undertaken without fear of exposure? Equally his sympathy for the way Fernandez was treated by his fellow officers mustn’t cloud his judgement. It was a fact, attested to by his Galician pilot, that the Cuban had nearly beaten a soldier to death. So under that placid exterior was a violent personality which had both the means and the opportunity to intercept the merchantman. De Coburrabias had arrived in one of the ships from Havana, six or seven days’ sailing away, so that ruled him out. Or did it? He, like the three magistrates, could easily have informed someone else, and set them on a rendezvous with Rodrigo. That possibility opened up so many avenues of enquiry that any attempt to find the culprit was doomed. And how did that notion square with the fact that the man clearly knew the person he invited aboard – or, Harry wondered, was he wrong about that? His mind went back to the notion of getting his ship clear, discarding one wild scheme after another.

‘What do we tell our French guests about this?’ asked James, bringing him down to terra firma with a bump.

‘As little as possible,’ Harry replied, emphatically. ‘Let’s just get them off the damned ship while de Carondelet’s offer lasts.’

‘Without their money!’

‘If the Barón finds out that it’s theirs we’ll never get it back.’

‘Will we get it back in any case?’

‘I cannot believe he’s going through with this, James. Surely he must realise what a heap of ordure will descend on him from Madrid if the King of Spain is forced to apologise.’

‘That’s a tall order, Harry.’

‘It’s not, James. I’ve told you, there are people who will use this as an excuse to start a war.’

‘I take it you were being truthful about the alternative?’

‘I’ve no intention of accepting a bill on the Spanish exchequer, if that’s what you mean. I’ve known people who willed such
things to their children in the faint hope that they might eventually get paid.’

‘Could it be discounted?’

‘Not at a rate that I’d accept. We must assume that our passengers would feel the same. I imagine Madrid is sick to death of this place. Perhaps Louisiana is less of a drain on the treasury now that they’ve granted the Americans rights of deposit, but it’s still not wildly successful. If it was, de Carondelet wouldn’t need to filch our funds. He could borrow it from the leading traders. There’s Mexico City, of course. They will be accustomed to bailing them out …’

‘The news would certainly have reached London before that happened.’

‘It makes no sense,’ said Harry. ‘No sense at all.’

They fell silent again, striding along on the flat beaten earth of the roadway. The place was still busy with that air of pleasant bustle which would continue late into the night, so common in cities in warm climates. Each intersection had its crowd, occupying the corners in a proprietory way, and again Harry was struck by the easy way in which the races seemed to mingle: when a carriage forced them to the side of the road it was as likely to be occupied by a dark-skinned owner as a European. They had to stop at one of the junctions, well lit by gas lamps, as two traps, single-horsed shays, disputed the right of passage. A crowd of people, seemingly intent on going in their direction, gathered round them.

‘You are, I believe, Captain Ludlow?’

THE VOICE
was deep, even, and masculine, with just a hint of a Scottish burr. Harry spun round, to find himself looking at the top button of a black coat. He raised his eyes, wondering how this huge interloper who now stood between him and James had got so close without his having any notion of his presence. Now, looking at the face, he was struck by the slightly coppery tone of the skin, and the eyes, as black as the hair, so deep in colour as to seem almost blue. It was dominated by a beaked nose, made more prominent by the shadows of the flickering gaslight. He wasn’t smiling, though it couldn’t be said that he looked threatening. If anything he had an expression of confident passivity.

‘And who are you, sir?’

‘You are Captain Ludlow, I’m not mistaken?’

‘Harry,’ said James, who, given the broad shoulders, had to lean well forward to be seen. The man spun round to look at him, then turned back. ‘No, it is you.’

His proximity, the way he towered over Harry, was slightly alarming. He tried to take a pace back, only to find himself hemmed in by the crowd. The giant lifted a massive hand, which made him shy away defensively, but it went above his head and though he didn’t see what gesture he employed the crush eased immediately.

‘I’m sorry to adopt such a way of meeting. But I can’t come out to your ship without attracting attention.’

Now able to look him up and down, Harry wondered what he was on about. Given his height, girth, and bearing, this man would attract attention wherever he went. James walked round
him to join his brother. The black eyes flicked from one to the other.

‘Perhaps if I was to introduce myself first. My name is Alexander McGillivray.’ There was a slight pause, during which he perceived no reaction, before he continued. ‘That would mean nothing to you.’

‘It does not,’ Harry replied. Now that he was free to do so, he took another step backwards, trying to get this McGillivray into focus. It was only then that he noticed that the two carriages, so disputatious and entangled a moment ago, had passed each other with ease.

‘Did you arrange this, sir?’ asked James.

‘I engineered our meeting, yes. It did occur to me that four of my men, armed, could be induced to bring you to me, but then you might’ve tried to fight them, and I would not want you harmed.’

‘Perhaps we would have inflicted harm rather than succumbed to it.’

The eyes looked at them both again.

‘You might,’ he said to Harry. Then he turned his gaze on James. ‘You? No.’

‘This is damned impertinent, sir,’ said James.

‘It is. And it’s also very public. I wonder if you would step this way? One of the de Carondelet’s innovations, apart from his gas-lit streets, is the formation of patrols by a paid force of watchmen.’

As he indicated the black-painted door that stood on the point of the corner, it opened immediately, revealing a dark unlit passage. Since whoever had pulled it was hidden, it seemed very like a conjuring trick. McGillivray stepped back into the gloom, his eyes momentarily distracted by his need to check their surroundings.

‘Why?’ asked Harry.

‘It was you who found the
Gauchos
. I need to know what happened to that ship.’ He spoke hurriedly, almost in panic. ‘My
daughter was on board. I must try to find out what became of her. One of my men spoke to the sailors who manned your barge this morning. I know certain things were taken off the ship.’

‘Does the expression ‘Hoboi Hili Miko’ mean anything to you?’ asked James.

‘It does,’ replied McGillivray. ‘It is my name in Creek. It means Good Child King.’

‘You are a King?’

‘No, a chieftain, which comes to me by right – since I am a member of the Wind clan.’

‘
Vent
,’ said James, recalling the French word which had been embroidered alongside.

‘That is correct. Now, gentlemen. Will you accede to my request?’

‘Tell me, sir,’ said Harry. ‘Would you, in an unknown port, enter a darkened house with a complete stranger?’

McGillivray’s eyes flicked over Harry’s shoulder and he spoke rapidly, in what both brothers assumed was the native tongue, before addressing them again.

‘I would if I had a knife pressed into my back.’

Harry felt the pressure before he’d finished speaking. Not enough to puncture anything, but certainly sufficient to indicate that it was sharp enough to do so in an instant.

‘I mean you no harm, Captain Ludlow. But my own situation and my urgent need for information leave me little option. I have no desire to stay where my presence would be noted, otherwise I would have come to your ship.’

‘You wouldn’t have got close, sir, since it is surrounded by Spaniards.’

‘Had you not, fortuitously, come ashore, I would have been forced to do so. And had that occurred, I can assure you I would have succeeded.’

‘You have no need of my brother,’ said Harry, as the pressure in his back increased slightly.

‘Forgive me if I disagree, Captain. I have need of you both.’
His eyes were now on James. ‘Clearly, if you ask the meaning of ‘Hoboi Hili Miko’, you have some knowledge of events.’

The sudden noise of a commotion, faint at first but growing louder, carried over the normal babble of the surroundings. McGillivray stepped further back, practically disappearing into the darkened doorway, to avoid detection.

‘Soldiers,’ whispered James.

‘No, sir. What you are witnessessing is the unpopularity of the Governor’s watchmen, who are approaching. You will be tempted to call out now, Captain Ludlow. Please don’t do so. We Indians are adept at disposing of people silently.’

Harry stepped forward, taking James’s arm to propel him in the same direction, aware that he had no choice. He tried to sound relaxed, even though he felt anything but. ‘One second you mean us no harm and the next we’ve expired without so much as a whimper!’

The lantern appeared as soon as the door was shut. Harry, turning, saw that whoever had pressed the knife in his back had stayed outside. Apart from the man with the lamp they were alone with McGillivray.

‘Please follow me, Captain,’ the giant said. He walked up the passage, took the lantern, dismissed the man holding it, and opened the door to a comfortable parlour. ‘If you’d care to take a seat, gentlemen.’

It was James who replied. ‘I don’t think I want to do that until you tell me who you really are.’

‘I’ve already done that.’

‘You say your name is McGillivray, which is clearly of Scottish origin, yet you expect us to believe that you’re an Indian chieftain of some substance.’

That made McGillivray smile. He had a mouth full of large white even teeth that were near to sparkling. ‘It must sound strange to your English ears, I know.’

‘And if I’m not mistaken, sir, you even have a Caledonian lilt to your voice.’

James pronounced this with all the dislike that he felt for Scotsmen evident in his tone. Harry considered it was a subject on which his brother was barely rational. Their sister had married an impecunious Scottish lord when James was still a youngster. That brother-in-law, Lord Drumdryan, who’d seen fit to take a hand in his upbringing and dictate matters in their family home, he held to be typical of the race, and since he despised Drumdryan, he allied himself with those Englishmen who, greedy for political favour and seeing the northern interlopers prospering, hated the Scots.

‘My father was Scottish,’ McGillivray replied. ‘He married my mother, who was half Creek Indian and half French. In the Creek nation the bloodline is female, and my mother was a member of the Wind clan. That is the clan that stands highest in the eyes of our spirits. So I inherited my position from my mother.’

‘You said your daughter was on the
Gauchos
,’ said Harry.

A slight pause. ‘She was. Sequoy Marchand McGillivray.’

‘And how old is she?’

The answer didn’t come immediately. It was as though McGillivray had to count the passage of time. ‘Sixteen years by a European calendar.’

‘Was she alone?’ asked James.

‘She was on the
Gauchos
with Captain Rodrigo.’

Harry cut in. ‘Were there any other passengers?’

‘Not that I was aware of.’

Even by the faint light of the candle Harry could see that James was perplexed. ‘Is it not unusual to send a sixteen-year-old-girl abroad unattended?’

‘Perhaps we don’t count New York as abroad,’ McGillivray replied sharply.

‘New York!’ Harry barked. ‘Was that the ship’s destination?’

‘Why does that surprise you?’

‘I had assumed that it was bound for Spain.’

McGillivray shook his head. ‘Captain Rodrigo was carrying
his cargo to New York. The first granulated sugar ever processed by human hand. Unfortunately he didn’t even get a hundred miles from the mouth of the delta, if the rumours I have heard are true.’

‘They are, I’m afraid,’ Harry replied. ‘We came across her not much more than a day’s sailing from Fort Balize. Rodrigo’s body we picked up closer to the delta.’

McGillivray sat forward eagerly. ‘Please tell me what you found.’

Harry hesitated for just a moment, still trying to fit the ship’s destination and the way McGillivray referred to the cargo into what had happened with de Carondelet. He was also slightly troubled by the reference to the man’s daughter. He distinctly remembered the unoccupied look of the cabin, with the chest that contained the clothes of what appeared to be a young girl. The one with the older woman’s clothes and vomit-stained sheets had certainly been used. Surely that denoted another passenger? There was Rodrigo’s wife, but it couldn’t be her. Sailing with her husband, she had her quarters in the main cabin.

‘Captain Ludlow?’

He brought his attention back to McGillivray, who was clearly anxious to hear what he had to say. He explained how they’d found the ship and how whoever had approached and boarded had almost certainly been known to the Captain. That made the giant Indian stiffen slightly, but he didn’t speak. Then, without mentioning open boxes of sugar, Harry went on to describe Rodrigo’s cabin, set for dinner, and what he’d found in the accommodation below decks.

‘Did they go down with the ship?’

‘No. My servant brought them off before
Gauchos
sank.’

McGillivray sounded resigned. ‘So they are in the hands of Governor de Carondelet.’

‘Actually,’ said James, ‘they are still on board.’

‘I have been told that de Carondelet left your ship in possession of a chest.’

‘That was a different one, sir.’

A moment’s silence followed. Both brothers were surprised that McGillivray evinced no interest in that other chest – not that either of them would have told him what it contained. Still, his lack of curiosity was odd.

‘How was she sunk?’

‘They sent someone down to the bilges to knock out the planking,’ Harry replied. ‘I don’t think they did a very thorough job.’

‘And there was no sign of a struggle.’

‘There was spotted blood on the deck, plus a great pool by the bulwarks. But when I examined that I was sure it was animal blood. There was nothing below decks or in the Captain’s quarters.’

‘Animal blood?’

‘Pork has a very peculiar smell, even raw. I think the blood on the deck was from a slaughtered pig. The manger and the hencoop were empty. I can only think whoever took the
Gauchos
was short of stores, but lacked the means to transport them live.’

‘Something small, then?’

‘Very likely,’ Harry replied.

McGillivray sat down suddenly, hands clasped before him. ‘I have ten thousand questions in my mind, Captain, most of which would probably make no sense to you.’

‘I’ve told everything I know, sir. And I must add that a great deal of what I have imparted is mere speculation.’

‘What will you do now?’ asked James.

McGillivray’s black eyes fixed on him for a moment, with a threatening look. Then he stiffened, as if seeking to control himself.

‘All the evidence points to a kidnapping. That’s the long and the short of it.’

Harry’s next question was posed tentatively.

‘When you say ‘kidnapping,’ do you assume she – your daughter, I mean – will be held for ransom?’

‘Of course, Captain. I am, through my own efforts and that of my father, seen as a very rich man.’

‘Whoever would do such a thing can only be either an enemy or, at sea, a pirate.’

‘That is so.’

‘What if I was to say that the
Gauchos
wasn’t taken by a pirate?’

‘How can you be so sure?’

‘Because we met the fleet of galleys that had just cleared out Barataria Bay off Fort Balize. A man called Charpentier was on one of them, in a cage.’

‘He is a prominent member of the fraternity, but he’s not the only one.’

‘Captain San Lucar de Barrameda said he chased all the others into the swamps.’

‘I would beware of placing too much credence in the claims of Spanish officers.’ McGillivray paused before proceeding, unaware of how his opinion had pleased Harry. ‘But I agree with you, it was unlikely to be a pirate.’

‘Why?’

There was another slight hesitation before McGillivray replied, which this time entirely robbed his answer of verisimilitude.

‘Because everyone in New Orleans knows who I am, just as they know the identities of the Barataria Bay pirates. Charpentier could have been picked up in any one of a dozen taverns in the last month.’

‘Knowing who they are is one thing, sir.’

McGillivray emitted a hearty laugh, which given his distress over his daughter was singular.

‘Do you think any of our buccaneers spend all their time in Barataria Bay? No, gentlemen. And if you had been to that godforsaken place you’d know why. They’re no different to other men, they like their comfort, especially when fortune favours them with a good capture. You’re as likely to find them drunk in the
tiendas
outside the northern wall as on their ships. Given coin to throw around they’ll do so and it’s not long before they run short.’

‘A description that fits nearly every sailor I’ve ever met,’ said Harry.