Andrew Pepper - The Revenge of Captain Paine

‘About the same time, the letters I’ve just read to you were stolen from Conroy’s safe and the comptroller here went to see his good friend, Sir Henry Bellows, in a state of what I can only assume was blind panic. You’ve seen for yourselves the significance of what was taken. I’m sure Conroy was quick to impress this point upon Bellows. And I’m guessing he asked the chief magistrate to assign his best men to the task of recovering the letters. But Bellows would have known right away that he couldn’t assign any of his own officers to this task. The work was too dirty and he needed to use people who couldn’t be traced back to him. So he turned to his good friend Abraham Gore. I know for a fact that Gore and Bellows had already liaised about ways of stamping out radical activity, and the chief magistrate was about to spearhead a crackdown against Julian Jackman and the Wat Tyler Brigade here in London. Gore had already “bought” the chief magistrate’s favour by alerting him to plans to move the terminus of the Birmingham railway from Camden to Euston before anyone knew of it, thereby allowing Bellows to buy up properties in the area at a fraction of what they’d eventually be worth.’

Pyke paused for a moment and thought about the performance that Gore had put on for him at the coroner’s inquest. All to throw suspicion elsewhere and maintain Pyke’s trust, at least until Gore gained control of Blackwood’s bank. It was impressive in its own way.

‘So Gore employed Jake Bolter and by association Jimmy Trotter to hunt for the stolen letters and told them what he heard from Bellows and hence the comptroller here. That the chief suspect was a kitchen hand who’d worked at Kensington Palace called Kate Sutton and her betrothed, Johnny Evans. Bolter and Trotter found Johnny easily enough and exhaustive interrogation — Trotter burnt Johnny’s flesh with the end of a lighted cigar — revealed that Johnny had given the letters to Kate for safe keeping. But rightly fearing for her life, Kate went into hiding, and Bolter and Trotter were both unable to find where she had gone. Bolter even interrogated her parents in their Spitalfields home, to no avail. When he realised they couldn’t tell him what he wanted to know, he slit their throats and let them bleed to death.’ Pyke glanced up at the prime minister, who visibly winced at this particular detail.

‘Perhaps Johnny died as a result of the torture, perhaps they killed him because he was no longer of any use to them. I don’t know. But needing to dispose of his body, they stumbled on the idea of taking it with them to Huntingdon and dumping it there. After all, who would think of looking for a penniless London actor in the middle of the countryside? But just to make sure, they hacked off the man’s head and then, rather than bury the headless corpse in a field, they decided to throw it into a river near Huntingdon. Their aim was to further frighten and unsettle the men and women of the town. Remember, they also wanted these same men to violently defend their home against the navvies if and when the navvies could be provoked into attacking it. They did this very successfully. The navvies were routed in the ensuing violence and, in the process, the radicals were driven out of the town and the progress of the Grand Northern Railway arrested. More recently, it should be added, Gore has been using his influence to make sure that the Grand Northern terminates at Cambridge, thereby affording his own railway line a monopoly on all traffic between London and the industrial heartlands of the Midlands and the North. At its most basic, this whole thing was devised by Abraham Gore to break his railway’s closest competitor and destroy all attempts to unionise the railway’s workforce. A few days ago I saw the radical leader, Julian Jackman. He had been crucified, as a warning to others. My wife, who was also Captain Paine, was shot dead in Smithfield and died in my arms.’

For a while after Pyke had finished telling his story, the room was very quiet. No one was sure how to proceed. As befitted his rank, it was the prime minister who spoke first, sitting forward in his armchair, his hands pressed together. ‘I assume you have proof of these very grave accusations.’ He would know Abraham Gore very well, Pyke thought, and would perhaps be a little frightened of him, and frightened of any scandal involving a long-time supporter of the Liberals and someone who’d donated large sums of money to the party’s coffers.

‘Proof?’ Pyke wetted his lips.

‘Proof that my very good friend, Abraham Gore, was involved in these matters as you have described them.’ His eyes were cold and blue.

‘No.’

‘No?’ Melbourne frowned. ‘If the law cannot assist your case then I’m afraid you have no case.’

‘I’m not intending to plead my case before a court of law.’

‘That’s because there’s no case to answer.’ Melbourne clapped his hands together triumphantly. ‘My God, I should have you taken off to the Tower just for making such an impertinent accusation.’

‘In which case, the letters I read out earlier would be in Cumberland’s hands even before the cell door was bolted.’ Pyke stared at him. ‘In case of my death, my lawyer has been instructed to make the content of the letters public.’

Melbourne studied Pyke’s expression, trying to assess the threat he posed. It took Peel’s intervention to move the matter forward. ‘I’m afraid I can’t advise you what to do, Prime Minister, but I’d just like to say that it would be highly dangerous to underestimate this man’s resolve or indeed his ruthlessness.’

‘You know this man?’ Melbourne seemed appalled at this fact.

Peel bowed his head. ‘I’m afraid we’ve had dealings in the past.’

‘A man of principle such as yourself.’ Melbourne shook his head. ‘You disappoint me, Sir Robert. You disappoint me greatly.’

Despite the fact that they led different parties, neither man wanted to entertain the prospect of Cumberland seizing the throne.

Finally Melbourne’s morose stare returned wearily to Pyke. ‘What is it you want, sir?’

Pyke took out another letter, this time from a different pocket, and held it up. ‘This is a hastily scribed letter from Sir Henry Bellows to Gore that bears next Monday’s date. I want you to convince the comptroller here that it’s in his best interests to deliver it to Gore in person. Convince Conroy that if he does this, and gives Gore an inkling that something is amiss, his future will be no bleaker than it is already. Convince him that this represents his only chance to hold on to what he’s already pilfered from the state and avoid punishment for his role in the murders of Johnny Evans and Kate Sutton’s parents. Convince him that if he refuses or tries to tip Gore a wink he’ll be drummed out of his role at Kensington Palace quicker than you can say Jack Robinson.’

Finally Conroy could contain himself no longer. He sprang up from his chair and screeched, ‘This is absolutely unacceptable. I will not be dictated to in these terms.’

But Melbourne ordered him to sit down and not interrupt them again. As Conroy did as he was told, dejected and beaten, Melbourne looked at the letter Pyke was holding and asked what it said.

‘Sir Henry wants Gore to know that, fearing my retaliation, he’s gone into hiding, and asks Gore to meet him at the address of a property he owns in Somers Town.’

‘And has the letter, in fact, been penned by Sir Henry Bellows?’ Melbourne asked, confused.

‘It’s the chief magistrate’s handwriting. I helped him with the content.’

The penny finally dropped. ‘You mean you… forced him to write it?’

In fact, Pyke had hijacked the chief magistrate’s brougham as it left his home in Holland Park earlier that morning and had already taken him to the aforementioned house in Somers Town.