James McGee - Ratcatcher

Hawkwood had heard of the rafales from a former marine who’d served as a prison guard on the hulks at Chatham. The rafales occupied the bottom rung of the prison ladder, literally. They lived in a state of perpetual darkness in the lowest parts of the prison hulks. Naked as moles, or with only a blanket for warmth, their miserable existence was due to their mania for gambling, which led them, upon the loss of their money, to part with their clothes, bedding and rations. The stronger-willed prisoners-such as Duvert and his followers-preyed upon them with the cold-blooded detachment of sharks. Which accounted for the rafales ’ willingness to betray Duvert and his henchmen, Hawkwood supposed.

“Duvert and his men had already received their sentence before we learned of Lee’s plans for his submersible. I’ll lose no sleep in having consigned them to an earlier grave. I agree, Hawkwood, that the rules of war carry with them obligations, as do the regulations covering military prisoners. I shed no tears for cold-blooded murderers, however. Duvert and his men forfeited their rights as prisoners of war when they displayed the bodies of those two marines like plucked fowl on a butcher’s block.” The Chief Magistrate frowned. “We did make some allowances, endeavouring to reduce unnecessary carnage by positioning them all at the bow and stern, deducing that those would be the areas least likely to suffer damage. Though, in that regard, it would appear we made a severe miscalculation.”

“You said there was an Englishman.”

Jago nodded. “Aye. A mate of yours, as it happens.” The big man threw a glance at the magistrate.

James Read pursed his lips. “Proof of the pudding, Hawkwood. We had the ship, the flags, the Royal standard. We weren’t sure how good Lee’s intelligence was, how close he might get, so we needed the one thing that would convince William Lee that he had the correct target in his sights. We needed the Prince of Wales.”

Hawkwood rose from the pillows. Pain lanced through his shoulder. He sank back with a grimace, which changed to an expression of disbelief. “The Prince was on board?”

Read shook his head. “A substitute. A flesh-and-blood decoy who could pass for the Prince at a distance. Someone with the right girth and stature.”

“And he was a friend of mine?”

Read smiled. “Not exactly. The sergeant was being facetious, though you are acquainted with the individual.” The magistrate paused. “Certainly with his mother.”

Jago said, “They used Eli Gant.”

“Gant!” Hawkwood winced as pain flared again. These revelations were doing nothing for his chances of a speedy recovery.

“I recalled that he and the widow were occupying berths on one of the transportation ships at Dudman’s Yard, awaiting passage to the colonies. We did not inform the widow of the reason we were borrowing her son. Young Eli seemed quite taken with the notion. He liked the clothes.” The magistrate’s tone darkened. “I’ll see he’s buried in them. It seems only fitting.”

There was a silence in the room.

“Why the deception?” Hawkwood asked. “Why didn’t you put out nets? Why not just stop Lee? Why did you want him to carry out the attack?”

The Chief Magistrate remained silent. Hawkwood sensed a deep disquiet. Finally James Read spoke.

“Because we needed to see if the submersible worked.”

Despite the sunlight slanting through the windows, a chill moved through Hawkwood.

James Read, sensing the change of mood, threw a meaningful look at Jago. “Come now, you need rest and time to gather your strength. We’ll talk again soon. Everything will be made clear. You’ll join me, Sergeant?”

Jago nodded, but before he left he moved to the bed. He bent low and spoke low so that only Hawkwood could hear. “Remember what we talked about, Cap’n? Bleedin’ generals. They tell you nothing. You and me, that’s all that matters.” He touched Hawkwood lightly on the arm and followed the Chief Magistrate out of the room.

Ezra Twigg looked up and smiled as Hawkwood entered the ante-room. “Why, Mr Hawkwood! A pleasure to see you back, sir. And looking very fit, if I may say so.”

“Good to see you, too, Ezra. He’s in, I take it?”

The clerk nodded towards the inner door. “He is, and he’s waiting for you.”

Hawkwood entered the office. There were three men present: James Read, Colonel William Congreve and a stranger. They were in conversation but fell silent and looked up as Hawkwood entered.

“Ah, Hawkwood, there you are.” The Chief Magistrate stepped out from behind his desk.

The Colonel smiled. “Captain! Good to see you! Fully recovered from your adventures, I trust? Excellent! Capital!”

“Colonel,” Hawkwood said, shaking the proffered hand.

The stranger was regarding Hawkwood with interest. Hawkwood returned the examination. The man was tall, with a strong, sun-browned face and penetrating blue eyes.

“Officer Hawkwood, Captain Thomas Johnstone.”

Johnstone nodded but did not offer his hand.

Captain? Hawkwood thought.

The magistrate moved towards the door. “Thank you, Captain Johnstone. That will be all for now. The Colonel will contact you in due course. My clerk will see you out.” Read opened the door. “Mr Twigg?”

Johnstone did not seem in the least put out by the abruptness of his departure. He left without a backward glance.

The Colonel’s expression was benign, but Hawkwood had the distinct feeling that the colonel did not set much store in Johnstone’s character.

Read returned to his desk. The Colonel moved to one of the chairs and sat down. The magistrate did not offer Hawkwood a seat. He seemed preoccupied with his thoughts. Finally he spoke: “We discovered what Lee meant by friends in high places.”

Hawkwood waited. The Colonel shifted in his chair.

“It was Admiral Dalryde.”

Dalryde! An Admiralty Board member. No wonder

Congreve looked uncomfortable, Hawkwood thought.

“It appears the Admiral had amassed rather heavy gambling debts,” Congreve continued. “His main creditor was White’s. It was his gambling losses that brought him to the attention of a fellow club member.”

“Mandrake?” Hawkwood ventured.

Read nodded. “Indeed, and it was Mandrake who introduced him to the woman. The Admiral told Mandrake you were the officer I’d assigned to the case. He was at Mandrake House the night of the ball.”

The shadow in the bushes, Hawkwood thought. His jaw tightened at the memory.

“Do not reproach yourself, Hawkwood. There was no way you could have known. The woman’s a skilled courtesan. She has considerable charms and knows how to use them. In Admiral Dalryde’s case, she used her wiles to manipulate him into providing her with information. In exchange for her favours and the promise that his debts would be covered, the Admiral gave her details of the naval courier’s travel arrangements, the date of Thetis ’s departure from the Deptford yard, and the progress of our enquiries into both the coach robbery and Officer Warlock’s murder. The latter investigation, of course, held special interest because of its connection to the deployment of the submersible.”

“The bastard was right under our noses!” The colonel slammed a fist against his knee and stood up. Restlessly, he began to pace the room.

“I take it we arrested him?” Hawkwood said.

Read nodded.

“So he’ll be charged with treason,” Hawkwood said.

Read shook his head.

“Why the hell not?”

“Because the bugger beat us to it,” the colonel snapped.

Hawkwood looked to the magistrate for an explanation.

“The admiral hanged himself in his cell this morning.”

“God’s teeth! What about Mandrake? Don’t tell me he’s cheated the hangman, too.”