David Liss - A Spectacle Of Corruption

“You may speak of destroying Mr. Melbury on principle, but would you sacrifice me for your principles as well?”

“Never,” I said. “I would give you the bread from my mouth. But you must know that, because of what I have seen, I would not hesitate to see Melbury destroyed. I will not go out of my way to harm him- I will swallow my anger and do what you wish- but I will not protect him either, and I will not serve him.”

“Then we have nothing more to say to each other,” she told me.

“How can you tell me so?”

“Are you mad?” she asked me. “He is my husband. I owe him all the loyalty in the world. You speak to me as though he were but a rival to you. But you must understand that you can be nothing to me now but a friend, and you decline that role. You would do what you wish in order to satisfy your own sense of right and wrong, but it is not only Mr. Melbury who will be trampled, it is me as well.”

“What do you ask of me, then?”

“You must promise me to do nothing that will harm him.”

“I cannot. I have told you that I will not seek to harm him, but I will not protect him, and if I have the opportunity to sacrifice him to serve my aims- knowing what I know of him now- I must take it.”

“Then you are no friend to me at all. I will thank you to stay away from me and my husband. I understand that you must encounter him now and again in your guise, but if you come into my house again, I will tell him who you are.”

“You would do that to me?”

“I do not want to have to make a choice between you, but if you force my hand I will choose my husband.”

MY DECEPTION was coming undone rapidly, so I had no choice but to act. Miriam had made it clear I could hope for little from her husband. The debt collector Miller knew who I was, and I could not count on his remaining quiet for even as long as he had agreed.

None of this came as a surprise, of course. I had known I might be discovered before I had secured my liberty, and I had been contemplating a plan for some time now. I therefore risked contacting Elias and met with him in a coffeehouse. He was none too thrilled with what I asked of him, but he agreed in the end, as I knew he would.

That resolved, I contacted those who needed to know of my plans. I then took the notes that Grace had given me, those written to Dogmill’s contacts in the country who had spent time in Jamaica, and fashioned an answer that best suited my purposes.

Grace was, in a very passive way, central to my plans, and I met with her in a chocolate shop that I might explain everything to her. She had shown herself to be nothing but an ardent supporter, but I was nevertheless preparing to move against her brother, and I could not take her cooperation for granted.

She arrived before I did at the shop on Charles Street, looking radiant in a wine-red dress with an ivory corset. The other men- and indeed the women- stared at her openly as she sipped her dish of chocolate.

“I am sorry if I’m late,” I said.

“You’re not. I only wished for the chocolate.”

“Many ladies would hesitate before drinking at a chocolate shop alone.”

She shrugged. “I’m Dennis Dogmill’s sister, and I do what I like.”

“Even to Dennis Dogmill?” I asked, as I took my seat.

She stared at me for a long moment and then nodded. “Even so. How hard will you be with him?”

“No harder than I have to be. For your sake,” I added.

She put both hands on her dish but did not raise it. “Will he live?”

I laughed aloud, which might have been unkind, given the gravity of her question, but I had no plans to act the assassin. “I am not so foolish as to pursue perfect justice, or some flawed idea of what that would be. I want my name and my freedom. If the guilty can be punished, so much the better, but I have no illusions.”

She smiled at me. “No, you don’t. You see everything clearly.”

“Not everything.”

She laughed now. I saw her lovely teeth dark with chocolate. “You mean me, I suppose. You want to know what happens with Grace Dogmill when all of this has resolved.”

“It is a luxurious question, for it depends upon my having escaped the hangman’s noose and regained my reputation. But yet, I have wondered.”

“It would be improper for a woman of my station to have a friendship with a man of yours.”

“I understand,” I said. I had heard this position before, after all.

She smiled once more. “But if I find I have had something stolen, I may need to pay you a visit. And, sadly, I am none the most cautious of my belongings.”

With Miss Dogmill fully willing to lend me aid, I had nothing to do but wait to take the appropriate steps on the heels of the notes I’d sent. It seemed to me unwise to wait too long. Twenty-four hours were enough to induce the anxiety and anger I wished for. More than that might produce action. Less would result in insufficient emotion. These were, however, a very anxious twenty-four hours, and I knew I should be happier if I found some occupation for myself. Fortunately, there was one more task left to me, and if it was not wise, it was at the very least justifiable. I therefore found myself in need of calling one more time upon Abraham Mendes.

He answered a note I sent him and met me that evening in a tavern off Stanhope Street near Covent Garden. There was something amusing upon his face as he saw me. Perhaps he thought that if I should manage to extricate myself from my dangers, I should never bear the same contempt for him or his master. How little he knew me if he believed it. Nevertheless, Mendes served me as I hoped he would, and I left my meeting with him hopeful that all should go as I wished.

As I anticipated, I received a note the next day, and it was very much to my liking.

Evans,

I know who and what you are, and I promise you that you cannot succeed in any plans you may be pursuing. If you end this charade now and vacate the metropolis, you may yet live. Dogmill

I wrote back at once, suggesting that Dogmill meet me that very evening at a tavern close by Whitehall. I chose the location because I knew it to be popular with Whigs, and I believed it would make him more comfortable and confident. Such was what I required of him. When I received a note in return confirming our rendezvous, I made my final preparations and fortified myself with a glass of port.

I arrived nearly half an hour late, for I wished Dogmill to be there in advance of me. I had no doubt he had arrived early, but I had no wish to surprise him and catch him unprepared. I arrived and asked the innkeeper for Mr. Dogmill and, much as I had anticipated, he told me I might find him in one of the back rooms.

I walked into the room to find Mr. Dogmill sitting at his table with Hertcomb at his side. Standing behind them, with his arms crossed, was none other than Mr. Greenbill. I was surprised that Dogmill should want another man to threaten violence, but perhaps he was, in this case, not willing to take risks. I was further surprised that he would risk Greenbill’s presence in the room, for he had obviously gone to great lengths to hide his association with this porter. I could only presume that Dogmill had little intention of leaving me in a state fit to report what I knew.

All appeared agitated, as well they might be. I grinned at Dogmill and Hertcomb. “Good evening, gentlemen,” I said, as I closed the door behind me.

Dogmill glared at me. “You will have to be very careful if you do not wish to die this night.”

“I cannot say how careful I shall be,” I told him. I took a seat at the table and poured myself a glass of his wine. I sipped it. “This is quite good. You know, from the look of this place, I should hardly think they would have claret of this quality.”