David Liss - A Spectacle Of Corruption

“You must know that I feel no fondness for Melbury, but I have come to the conclusion that he must succeed if I am to succeed. I wish to see him elected to Parliament, to aid him in his election. Once in office, he will have the power to expose the wrongs of my trial and to demonstrate the influence of Dogmill.”

“And why should he do so?”

“Because he can have no love for Dogmill. Besides which, he and I will become friends,” I said smugly.

“You make it sound so uncomplicated.”

“I believe you were the one who, not long ago, advocated I become friends with a monster like Dogmill. But in my brief encounter with the man, and from all I’ve heard of him, attempting to attach myself to him will only incur his displeasure, something surely best avoided by a would-be toadeater. On the other hand, all state that Melbury is a reasonable man. His friendship should be far more easily secured. If I help him, if I work against Dogmill as a common enemy, should he not, in return, show me his gratitude? Even more than that, by exonerating a man cruelly used by the Whigs, he advances his own career, his own party. Once I am able to prove my case to him, I don’t know that he could be dissuaded from helping me.”

“Perhaps,” he said quietly. I could not tell if his hesitation stemmed from a weakness of the plan or from petulance that it was not he who had devised it.

“I want to meet Melbury,” I said again. “He will be my friend, and Dogmill my foe. Can you think how I might do so?”

“I don’t believe that you can set aside your feelings for his wife. Meeting with him, trying to earn his friendship, would be a mistake.”

“It is my mistake to make,” I said.

Elias sighed deeply and rolled his eyes for effect. “Well, I just now read that there is a breakfast for supporters of Mr. Melbury at the Ulysses Tavern near Covent Garden the day after tomorrow at eight in the morning. Frightfully early, I know, but you could attend if you were intent on doing so.”

“No, that’s no good. I would hardly know what to say, and I would reveal myself as an impostor in moments.”

“Do you think everyone who attends these things is full of canny observations? Most are merely windbags who want to feel important. If you are at a loss for what to speak of, you may complain about Whig corruption or the Whig oligarchy. You may talk of the Church in danger or of villainous Whig latitudinarians who are little better than atheists. Rail against the South Sea scheme and the screening of the Company directors. If you wish to be a Tory, you must be a curmudgeon, just as if you wish to be a Whig, you must be an opportunist. All the rest is mere posturing.”

I considered my strong but ultimately limited resources. “How much will I have to pay to attend?”

He laughed. “ You pay? You know nothing of politics, I see. It is Mr. Melbury who pays. You pay, indeed! Politics is corrupt enough without asking the voters to pay for the campaigning. But I suppose that is one of the reasons why elections have become so expensive of late. I’m told that a hundred years ago a man could win Westminster with five pounds out of pocket. Today he will count himself lucky if his bill does not exceed a thousand.”

“Why does it cost so much?”

“Because there is a great deal of money to be made, and because the other fellow will spend if you don’t. The man who wishes to sit in Parliament must offer food and drink and entertainment and pretty girls. And the Septennial Act has only made things more dear. When a man ran every three years, he could ill afford to expend a fortune on an election, but now that terms run seven years, he can ill afford not to. The prize is of too much value.”

“And given the dear cost of elections, can any man go to this Tory breakfast and announce that he likes Mr. Melbury and would enjoy some beer and sausage?”

“Some events do work that way. Particularly in the provinces, a candidate might well rent out an inn for the day and give food and drink to anyone who comes by. But this breakfast is for supporters only. We need only write to his election agent and let him know that you wish to follow the banner of Melbury. But in doing so you will declare yourself a Tory and thus destroy any ability to befriend Dogmill- and, very possibly, any chance to interact with him at all on friendly terms. You had better think about this carefully, Weaver. If you truly believe you may advance your ends best by befriending Melbury, that is one thing- but do you wish to risk the gallows so that you might eat some buttered bread with Miriam’s husband?”

“I have told you my reasons. Can you deny them?”

“Of course I can deny them. Look at you, Weaver. You’ve been courting this woman for years and drinking yourself numb in her name for months. And never once has she given you a word of encouragement.”

“She has,” I told him, feeling myself angering.

“Words then, but no more. She is not available to you now. She is another man’s wife. Though the truth is, she was never available to you. She was never going to leave her life of comfort and ease to marry a thieftaker, and you know it. You’ve always known it. That’s why her being married is no impediment to your love for her. It should only make you feel it more deeply.”

Elias was the greatest friend I had, so I chose not to strike him. I even bit back the bitter words that came to mind- that he, with his whores and serving girls, was no one to lecture on love- but I knew, angry though I was, that he said what he did because he wished to help. And he knew the risk. I saw his hands trembling.

“My interest in Melbury has nothing to do with his wife,” I said again. “I want only to use him for my purposes.”

He shook his head. “No doubt, but you gamble a great deal with poor odds. You must become friends with Melbury and he must win the election and he must then agree to use his newly got powers to rescue you. He may consider it a great deal to ask from a man who once courted his wife.”

“In truth, befriending Melbury is only part of my plan.”

“Am I to hear the rest?” he asked, like a jealous wife.

I took a deep breath. “We know that Dogmill is of a violent disposition. My plan then is not only to befriend Melbury but also to make Dogmill my enemy. If he hates me, despises me, he will attempt to act on his feelings, and in doing so I may be able to discover something of his operations. Between these two approaches, I can only hope one will lead me to victory.”

“You are mad.” Elias’s eyes went big. “Just a moment ago you were speaking of the danger of incurring his displeasure. Why do you now say you wish to do all in your power to secure it?”

“Because,” I said, “if he comes after me, he will be off balance, and that is when I will have the greatest opportunity to discover his secrets. If he plans and plots against me, I will learn how he plans and plots.”

Elias studied me for a moment. “You may be correct, but you may also be on the path to destruction.”

“We shall see who has more to put forth in the ring, me or Dogmill. Now, the first step will be for me to befriend Melbury.”

“I hate your scheme, but I must admit there is some logic in it. Very well, we’ll try it your way. I suppose I will have to do some extra work, for I have already made it known that Mr. Evans is a Whig- seen to it that a few lines are planted in the papers and all that. But the damage can be undone, and it should hardly be the first time the papers have made such a mistake.”

“Have you made anything else known about Mr. Evans?”

“Oh, a thing or two. For you to prosper in this disguise, people must have some idea of who you are, so I have gone to work in that regard. I should be a poor surgeon in this metropolis if I were incapable of spreading gossip. The hero of my little romance, Alexander Claren, is also quite gifted at the game of gossip. A whisper here and there, you know. I have just this evening penned a rather amusing scene in which he is attending the wife of a barrister who turns out to be the sister of the very woman he once-”