Andrew Pepper - The Revenge of Captain Paine

‘And you expect me to sit back and do nothing while you propagate this deception against one of my oldest and dearest friends?’

‘A friend who’s put his advancement and material betterment above any loyalty to you or your party, who’s killed or had people killed on his orders, who’ll stop at nothing to get what he wants.’

Pyke noticed that Peel had gone very quiet, perhaps fearing that he was about to expose his role in the affair: the fact that he, Peel, had first sent Pyke to Huntingdon in the hope he might dig up something which, in turn, could be used against Abraham Gore. That was why Pyke had wanted the Tory leader to be present at the meeting. He hadn’t planned to say anything about Peel’s role in the whole business but he wanted the Tory leader to know that he’d held his tongue.

This time he wanted Peel in his debt.

‘I have to say, Prime Minister, I’ve conducted my own investigation into Pyke’s claims and I feel there’s some validity to them,’ Peel said, unexpectedly coming to Pyke’s rescue.

It was unexpected until Pyke remembered that Peel had wanted to drive a wedge between Gore and Melbourne from the outset.

‘You think he’s telling the truth? My God…’ Melbourne complexion had turned a ghastly white.

‘And what if I refuse to do what this guttersnipe is asking me to do?’ Conroy said, unable to hold his silence.

Pyke turned his gaze on the comptroller. ‘Then I’ll pass word to the princess that you sought to weaken her by introducing poison into her food, thereby strengthening your hand in negotiations to become her private secretary. I know you tried to get her to sign a document to this effect only a few weeks ago when she lay on her sickbed with a fever of your making.’

Melbourne slumped back in his armchair, seemingly unable to take on board these further allegations.

To a stunned Conroy, Pyke added, ‘Baroness Lehzen suspects you already. You’ll have noticed how she won’t let you anywhere near the princess’s food.’

The comptroller evidently didn’t know how to respond, especially in front of two such powerful figures. He licked his parched lips but didn’t say anything.

Pyke turned back to Melbourne and said, ‘This arrangement suits everyone’s best interests. Conroy holds on to his job, the equilibrium is maintained, and you escape from being tainted by the whiff of scandal. Above all, Cumberland is kept in the dark about his claims on the throne. That’s what we all want, after all, isn’t it? Princess Victoria as our next queen.’ He put the letter Bellows had written on the table next to the prime minister, adding, ‘Remember, it’s to be delivered on Monday. No earlier than Monday.’ And then, apparently as an afterthought, Pyke said, ‘Oh, and when I take action against the Grand Northern next week, when I do what I plan to do, I want your government and indeed His Majesty’s opposition to do precisely nothing. As Abraham Gore might say, I want you to place your faith in the efficacy of the market.’ He allowed himself a smile. ‘Thank you all for coming and I’ll bid you good day.’

Pyke strode calmly out of the room. A slightly flushed Tilling caught up with him in the entrance hall. ‘I’m so sorry about your wife. I had no idea…’

‘I know.’

Tilling shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. ‘What are you planning to do?’

‘I can’t tell you.’

‘You do know you can’t hold the government to ransom.’

Pyke collected his greatcoat from the butler and nodded his thanks. ‘I’ve played my hand: what they decide to do is up to them.’ He paused for a moment and added, ‘And Peel knows I could have exposed his own complicity in this whole sorry business in front of Melbourne. If he flies off in a rage at me, remind him of that.’

‘Pyke…’ Tilling shouted after him as he stepped out on to Berkeley Square.

Pyke turned around, squinting in the sunlight.

‘Just remember, nothing you do will bring your wife back.’

Much later Pyke would find out from one of the committee members still loyal to Morris and his vision for the railway that on the same day he had met with Peel and the prime minister, a heavily guarded meeting of the committee and proprietors of the Grand Northern Railway at their head offices in the Square Mile had also met. By all accounts it was a fractious, heated meeting with frank opinions exchanged by all parties. In the first motion, Chauncey Bledisloe was narrowly elected as chairman of the company and in the second it was agreed, by just three votes, that the construction work would terminate at Cambridge. It was also agreed that every effort would be made to ensure that the railway line to Cambridge was completed as quickly as possible. The three votes cast by William Blackwood, representing the interests of Blackwood’s bank, proved to be decisive. Gore, who was not present at the meeting and who, according to close friends, had been taken ill, had retreated to his suite of rooms at the Richmond Hotel. Apparently Gore was said to be ‘delighted’ at the outcome of the Grand Northern’s meeting. It meant that he’d finally achieved his long-held objective: a monopoly for his railway on all passenger and freight traffic between the capital and points north. Pyke was also told that Gore had employed as many as fifty men to guard the hotel and, for a while at least, he became a self-imposed prisoner there. But his triumph had also come at a hidden cost. As the new majority shareholder in Blackwood’s bank, which had invested heavily in the Grand Northern, Gore now needed this venture to be moderately successful. Not perhaps as successful as the Birmingham railway, his railway, was and would be, but certainly Gore didn’t want the Grand Northern to fail.

If it failed, Blackwood’s would suffer and, in turn, he would suffer, too.

It was this Pyke was counting on, and this he would exploit to his own advantage.

The following morning, Pyke rode northwards from Hambledon Hall on a young grey horse and reached Huntingdon by nightfall. It took him all the next day and most of the following one to find what, or rather who, he had been looking for. Red, Billygoat and the other navvies he’d encountered in Huntingdon were drinking in an inn on the road between Peterborough and Ely. As Red explained later that night, after the violent clashes in the town they had been expelled from the parish and told never to return, otherwise they would be charged with conspiracy to riot, criminal damage and disturbing the peace. Red also said they had not managed to find any work in the last month and were down to their last few pennies.

‘Perhaps I can help you there,’ Pyke said, when he had stood them all a round of drinks. They were sitting around an oak table at the back of the room.

‘You mean to say you’re offering us work?’ Red said, removing his white felt hat and scratching his matted ginger hair.

‘Of a sort.’

Red leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. ‘I’m listening.’

Quickly Pyke whispered to Red what he wanted them to do. When he’d finished, the navvy whistled and shook his head. ‘That’s a serious business. What makes you think we’re the men to help you?’

‘The same man who orchestrated the rape and murder of Mary and planned for the townsmen in Huntingdon to drive your men into that river, and to their deaths, has greatly profited from the situation.’

Red eyed him carefully. ‘So what you’re proposing to do would hit him hard?’

‘If it was done right, it could ruin him. And many others like him.’ He didn’t want to go into the details and Red didn’t look as if he wanted to hear them.

‘You’re asking us to break the law.’

‘And I’m prepared to pay you handsomely for doing so.’