Carrie Bebris - The Deception At Lyme

The launch had been a subject of anticipation throughout Lyme for at least a se’nnight. Apparently such events were a spectacle that drew even the most casually interested observers. The Harvilles planned to take their boys, and had encouraged the Darcys to attend.

“It is a merchant ship, I understand,” Darcy said.

“Yes, an Indiaman, the largest vessel Lyme’s shipyards have ever built,” Mr. Elliot said. “Or so I am told.” The hint of pride in his voice betrayed his feigned indifference.

“Does it belong to the East India Company?” Elizabeth asked.

“No, I believe she is a West Indiaman, owned by a group of individual investors. I am afraid, Mrs. Darcy, that exhausts the intelligence I have on the subject. Perhaps Lieutenant St. Clair possesses more?”

St. Clair, who to this point had been attending Mr. Elliot with the same deaf ear to that gentleman’s pretended lack of interest as were the Darcys, now continued Elliot’s performance. “Only that she should have little trouble hiring a crew. There are many able seamen in Lyme eager to sign on with her.”

Mr. Elliot appeared satisfied with St. Clair’s answer.

Elizabeth was not. She wanted to know why Mr. Elliot and Lieutenant St. Clair were understating their knowledge of the Black Cormorant. She wanted to know the meaning of the conversation she and Darcy had just overheard. She wanted to know how in heaven’s name she had been able to overhear it in the first place.

“Do you plan to observe the launch?” she asked them.

“I hear she is a handsome ship,” Lieutenant St. Clair replied. “I would like to obtain a closer look at her.”

“And you, Mr. Elliot?”

“Perhaps. It is something to do in Lyme besides bathing or visiting the Assembly Rooms.”

“There is always fossil-hunting.”

He smiled. “Only for those who do not mind getting their hands dirty.”

Mr. Elliot’s smiles increasingly caused Elizabeth’s flesh to creep. Despite his perfectly manicured nails, she suspected his hands were as dirty as his secrets.

They were off the Cobb and halfway along the Walk that connected the hamlet to Lyme proper before Elizabeth felt comfortable discussing what had just transpired, without fear of being mysteriously overheard.

“So, Mr. Elliot owns partial interest in a new merchant ship,” she said, “but does not want anybody to know.”

“He does not want us to know,” Darcy replied. “Apparently he is not hiding the fact from Captain Tourner or Lieutenant St. Clair.”

“Well, no wonder he has continued in Lyme since Mrs. Clay’s death. I thought it curious that he did not go home. Now we know what has occupied him—overseeing the completion of the Black Cormorant. ”

“And hiring someone to command her.”

“How was it that we could hear the conversation between Mr. Elliot and Lieutenant St. Clair from such a distance?” she asked. “Moreover, how did you know we would be able to?”

“The day Ben Harville wandered onto the Cobb, I discovered quite by accident that the curve of the wall lends it unusual acoustical properties. I was standing just past the gin shop, while Captain Harville and Captain Wentworth stood where you and I were today, and I heard them speaking. Believe me—I was as astonished as you. I hypothesized that the effect worked in both directions, but I was not certain until now.”

“Did you tell the captains?”

“I told neither of them, nor did they seem aware of it. Apparently the phenomenon is not broadly known, or Lieutenant St. Clair and Mr. Elliot would have exercised more caution.”

“Or at least not stood there immediately afterward equivocating to us, disassociating themselves from the very ship they had been discussing. How long do you suppose the two of them have been in collusion? Did it begin aboard the Magna Carta, or predate that voyage?”

“That depends on what they are colluding about.”

“Well, at present Lieutenant St. Clair wants employment from Mr. Elliot, but some sort of anonymous partner is standing in the way, along with Captain Tourner. It sounds as if at one time St. Clair and Tourner were on more cooperative terms—jointly taking care of Mr. Elliot’s ‘problem’—but that now St. Clair is willing to step over him to get what he wants.”

“They say there is no honor among thieves. I expect that applies to scoundrels of any type.”

“Yes, but I thought there was some honor among His Majesty’s sea officers.” They passed the steps upon which they had first encountered Lieutenant St. Clair, the afternoon they had arrived in Lyme. Elizabeth recalled the impression he had made on her then, and the following day when he had delivered the sea chest. “Lieutenant St. Clair disappoints me. I did not want to believe him capable of treachery, but having discovered him to be on such familiar terms with Mr. Elliot, who we know to be a snake, only causes me to wonder which of them is more lacking in honor, and—”

She stopped. She had been about to say “which one is the bigger thief.” But from “thief” her mind leaped farther ahead—to the as-yet-unknown thief of two particular objects.

“And?” Darcy prompted.

“And whether Lieutenant St. Clair handled Mr. Elliot’s problem and the problem of the gold artifacts in a single shot—because they were the same problem.”

“You believe Mr. Elliot was involved with the idols?” Darcy asked.

“I am not sure what I believe, but somehow he was a party to them—directly or indirectly. If he did not handle them himself, he had knowledge of them. Let us consider what we do know: The figurines were found in a cask of sugar that, let us assume, came from Mr. Smith’s plantation. As his friend and advisor, Mr. Elliot was intimately familiar with Mr. Smith’s business—to hear Mrs. Smith tell it, perhaps more familiar than Mr. Smith himself. From your cousin’s diary, we know that Elliot and Smith, as well as Lieutenant St. Clair, were frequent dinner guests of Captain Tourner, so they were all well acquainted. And we know that St. Clair, as caterer for his mess, arranged to have the cask brought on board.

“Now,” she continued, “what if this particular cask was meant to be stored with St. Clair’s personal belongings, but mistakenly ended up with the mess provisions? A cask that was never meant to be used during the voyage gets opened, the artifacts are discovered, and suddenly Mr. Elliot and Lieutenant St. Clair have a problem that St. Clair does not want brought to the captain’s attention—at least, not by your cousin.”

“Or not while the captain was in Mr. Smith’s company.”

“Yes, we do not know how far the collusion extended.”

“Or why, if Mr. Elliot was the one behind the gold’s presence in the sugar cask,” Darcy said, “he did not simply transport the artifacts with his own belongings aboard the Montego. ”

“He thought they would be safer on a ship of war?” Elizabeth sighed. “I have not worked out all the details, and my theory probably has more holes than a leaky rowboat. What did Captain Wentworth have to say about all of this?”

“He thought there were enough irregularities in what I described to warrant investigation. Obviously, he does not know about the conversation we just overheard, which I shall inform him of without delay. Mr. Elliot’s character he already knows better than we do; in fact, he described him as a ‘talented schemer.’”

“See? Mr. Elliot must have a hand in this somehow.”

“Wentworth is not personally acquainted with Lieutenant St. Clair or Captain Tourner, though he might know the midshipman who conducted the inventory—Mr. Musgrove.”