Another Small Kingdom (20 page)

Chapter Thirty-seven

L
ord Melford looked and felt self-satisfied and relaxed. He stood by the desk in his office and regarded Jasper Trent through the open door.Trent, having suddenly demanded his urgent attendance, now kept him waiting while he read yet another report. But Melford was proof against any small annoyance Trent might choose to inflict on him.

The sun was shining, London was looking its best, and that evening he proposed to meet a fascinating creature in one of the Dark Walks of the Vauxhall Gardens. He had high hopes of where the assignation might eventually lead. All in all, since his return from Rome two days earlier, he thought of himself as a very devil of a fellow.

Trent put down the report and sat back.

‘And now, Melford, come and give me your news. I am, as you can see, all agog to receive it.'

Melford ignored the obvious sarcasm. He didn't let either Trent's tone or manner dent his feelings about himself. He knew he had done well and intended to say so. He walked into Trent's office, sat down with a flourish and dropped the satchel he had been carrying beside his chair.

‘If I say so myself, everything went well. Rome may be the court of the Popish Antichrist, an abomination to all true Christian gentlemen, but by God they do themselves well and have some fine women around them, damn fine. Accommodating too, damned accommodating.'

‘I'm so glad you had the time to find plenty of diversions suited to your taste.'

‘Oh I did what you asked, of course. I delivered your letters and collected your reports.'

Trent leaned forward and held out a hand.

Melford reached down beside his chair, pulled up the flat leather satchel and handed it across to Trent. Trent took it and put it down beside his chair.

‘So much for letters and reports. Next.'

‘I managed to arrange a meeting with our friend the Cardinal-who-would-be-king.'

‘And your thoughts on that royal and holy gentleman?'

‘Royal Stuart and Cardinal he may be, but he's without doubt a villain in his dealings with us.'

‘False then you think?'

‘I do.'

‘So do I. Now, on to other business. How did your role as Recruiting Sergeant go?'

Melford became flustered.

‘I don't understand.'

‘No? I would have thought the question simple enough. Did you recruit anyone to be our eyes and ears in Rome?'

‘No, I mean about the Cardinal. I said he's playing us false, I'm sure of it.'

‘Yes, I know that's what you said, and I said I agreed with you. Then I asked you how …'

‘But you said that if that was the case then you might have to snuff him out.'

‘Did I say that?'

‘Look here, Trent, what's going on?'

‘What's going on is that I'm trying to get a report out of you and finding it, as you might put it, damned difficult. Did you or did you not recruit anyone? Come, sir, out with it.'

Melford answered sullenly.

‘Yes I did.'

‘Good, that wasn't so hard was it? Who did you recruit?'

Melford perked up.

‘Ah, now there I think I scored a palpable hit. His name is Brutti, Count Silviano Brutti. And through him I picked four stout fellows who'll serve us damn well. Capable fellows and with Brutti over them I think …'

‘Yes, I thought so. Well done, Melford, you have managed to confirm what I already suspected. Things are clearing nicely.'

‘How do you mean, already suspected. I thought I was …'

‘You see, there you go again, thinking. I don't pay you to think, I pay you to do just as you're told.'

Melford, despite Trent's strictures on using his mental processes, thought about the way Trent had dismissed his assessment of the Cardinal.

‘Are you telling me that you knew about the Cardinal's treachery?'

‘Hardly treachery, he's only looking out for his own best interests, or so it must seem to him.'

‘I see.' Which was, of course, a black lie. ‘But Brutti. I did well with Brutti, at least allow me that. He's a damn well-placed fellow, knows all the best people, mixes with politicos and everyone of any moment.'

‘I know. If he wasn't so well-placed, Fouché wouldn't use him.'

‘Fouché!'

‘Oh yes, Brutti is Fouché's man, has been for some time. Fouché knew you were coming so he arranged to palm him off on to you. The eyes and ears you collected for me in Rome report to Paris before they report to us, and when they report to us what they say will be dictated by Paris.'

Melford didn't doubt for one second what Trent was telling him because, now he knew the truth of it, he could see that it had all been far too easy. Brutti had indeed been palmed on to him, smoothly palmed by one of the damned attractive and very accommodating ladies he had so much admired and whose conversation and company, among other things, he had enjoyed.

‘Dammit, Trent, you might have told me. A little trust? It's not too much to ask I think, a little trust and confidence.'

‘But Melford I
do
trust you, I trust you to do exactly as I expect. Brutti had himself palmed off on to you and is now wholly convinced he has fooled us because you played your part so excellently well, and you played it so well because you believed in it completely. Knowing that you believed in it, I had every confidence in you, my dear fellow, every confidence.'

It wasn't a compliment, Melford could see that quite clearly. But it was spoken so like a compliment that Melford decided his best course was to accept it as such.

‘Well then, it seems things turned out as you expected, so I suppose my visit to Rome must be counted a success although I can't say I see it myself.'

‘But it's clear enough, surely?'

‘Not to me. It doesn't seem at all clear to me.'

‘Tell me, Melford, do you play chess?'

‘I
can
play but I find it damnably dull. I prefer cricket.'

‘In chess one must see the whole board. If a player concentrates only on the pieces that are in play he will not see the threat on some other part of the board and when that threat materialises he will, in consequence, not have any suitable defence. Let me ask you a question, where does the greater danger lie would you say, in the idea or the man?'

‘What the hell are you talking about, Trent?'

‘Boney wants the world and he wants it for himself. Fouché wants the world but he wants it for Republicanism. If the idea defeats the man, no power on earth will be able to put that genie back in its bottle. If the man defeats the idea, well, any man, even the great Napoleon, might be stopped.'

‘Are you saying you'd prefer we fight Napoleon rather than the Republic?'

‘I'm saying I'd rather fight someone I know can be defeated. Try to see the whole board, Melford, not just any one part of it, nor even all parts looked at separately, but the whole board.'

Melford bent his mind to what Trent had said.

‘I think I see what you mean. Yes, I think I do. Damned clever point, Trent, damned important point.'

‘Well done, Melford, we'll make something of you yet. Ours is an age of information. It is no longer enough to know who your enemies are, where they are, nor even how strong they are. It is not even enough to know what they know, you need to know
more
than they know. My job, and yours, is to provide our masters with the information they require and it must be accurate information. I suspected that Cardinal Henry had been approached by the French, to what purpose is still not entirely clear, but we can safely assume it will be damaging to His Majesty's Government. I sent you to Rome and Brutti attached himself to you. That, together with your assessment of the Cardinal shows me that my suspicions were correct. We now know that Fouché is keeping a close eye on the Cardinal which means he's important to him and if he's important to Monsieur Fouché he is twice as important to us.'

‘Seems a damned roundabout way of finding out something as simple as that Fouché is keeping an eye on the Cardinal.'

‘Do you think so? Well perhaps you're right. But if we are to keep what we know to ourselves then deception and subterfuge must be our bread and butter. Fouché is satisfied that, through Brutti, he will know exactly what we get up to in Rome especially concerning Cardinal Henry. Very good. Let's keep him thinking that. Now, to the whole board. We must put some serious effort into finding out exactly what it is Fouché intends to do with our Cardinal Henry. I've had a report from Madame de Metz. She's found what I sent her for. Unfortunately she hasn't got it. Some lawyer has.'

‘What lawyer?'

But Trent ignored the question.

‘Fouché's clever music box is set to play its tune in America and we found out that he had established a main point of supply for his agents through New Orleans. The operation was co-ordinated there through a man named St Clair. I had to assume that as we had this information, others might also get it.'

‘Others? What others? The French organised it and we know about it. Who else is there?'

‘The Americans. I hardly think they would be indifferent to what the French have been up to, and by now they will be thoroughly mixed up in whatever it is. I sent Madame de Metz to find out what lay behind St Clair's operation, and while she was doing that keep an eye open for anyone else who might be doing the same. Well, things finally moved quickly. She found her man but not until he had killed St Clair and run off taking another man's wife with him.'

‘The swine.'

‘Melford, he killed St Clair to put the block on his operation and took the woman because she must know something. Her husband was a close friend of St Clair, an intimate friend, very intimate. The sort of intimate friend that meant Madame de Metz, even with all her charms, couldn't get near to him.' But Trent saw that Melford still didn't fully understand. ‘They died in the same bed.'

And Melford understood.

‘My God, the beasts.'

‘The man we want is called Macleod. He's a Boston lawyer, almost certainly working for Washington and, far from being a hound, he sounds a most capable and resourceful agent. I wish I had agents about me half as capable and resourceful.'

‘I see.'

‘I doubt it but tell me what you see.'

‘If he killed St Clair and this other fellow he'd have to run, and run quickly, which meant he had to take her with him.'

‘Yes, go on.'

‘And to do that with any chance of success she would have to travel willingly. It would seem then that your resourceful Macleod not only killed St Clair but also persuaded the lady to go with him willingly.'

‘You're the ladies' man, Melford, how clever would you say was that little trick?'

‘Damn clever, damn clever indeed.'

‘I'm glad you realise it because that's why Madame de Metz needs you. She's after him and will try to get the woman from him, but if our assessment of Macleod is accurate it will be no easy matter and she'll need help. She thinks he's headed for Boston so you also must be for Boston and I have something for you that you might find helpful, a manservant.'

‘I already have a manservant.'

‘Not like the one I'm giving you.'

‘What's special about your man?'

‘Let's just say that what he lacks in charm of manner he makes up for in other ways.'

‘Well if I must have him I suppose I must. When do I leave?'

Trent took out his watch.

‘Now, you're already late. Your man's name is Gregory and he's gone ahead of you with your trunk. He'll meet you at Liverpool. There's a carriage outside to get you to the coach. They'll hold it for a short while but I suggest you get a move on.'

‘But dammit, Trent, I can't just drop everything and dash off.' But as he looked at Jasper Trent he found that Trent was right after all, he could drop everything and dash off. He stood up. ‘What do I do in Boston?'

‘Anything and everything Madame de Metz tells you to get this Macleod business resolved. After that, do whatever in your judgement I would want done. And remember, no pretty faces, not on this one. Now off with you. Your carriage awaits.'

Chapter Thirty-eight

T
he merchantman ploughed south-west, one day out from Halifax, Nova Scotia, driven by a fresh summer wind.The crew went about their business and took no notice of the two women passengers walking the deck, talking.

‘So Molly, have you decided who you are now?'

‘Yes, and it's nothing like Madame de Metz. I want nothing fancy when we get to Boston.'

‘English or French?'

‘What would you say to Irish?'

Kitty grinned.

‘Why not?'

‘How about Mary Conover.'

The grin left Kitty's face and was replaced by a dark scowl.

‘Why that name? Jack Doran's exactly where he deserves to be, burning in hell fire, God rot the bastard's black soul.'

‘Amen to that, but you brought it on yourself, girl, falling for his lying Irish charm.'

‘Maybe I did but he said he'd marry me and we'd go back to Ireland and settle down proper after the Dorset job.'

Molly gave a short laugh.

‘And you believed the lying shite.'

‘Forget Jack Doran and let's get back to business. Who will you be?'

‘Mrs Fanny Dashwood, a well-off widow-woman. I'm in Boston because my late husband talked about opening an establishment there, said there were good prospects and the competition would be light compared to what he was used to. After his death, and I still haven't quite made up my mind how he died, I decided to come over and look around for myself.'

‘I like Fanny Dashwood. It has a nice ring to it, a bit racy but nothing common about it. And what line of business is Fanny in?'

‘It needs to be something not altogether honest but not altogether criminal.'

‘Whorehouses?'

‘No, that wouldn't serve, not if what I've heard about Boston is near the mark.'

‘What then?'

‘What would you say to gaming clubs? Let's say my late husband owned two gaming houses, one in London and one in, where do you think? Somewhere fancy to give it a bit of class.'

‘Bath.'

‘Good, I like it. Bath it is. And now I've come over to see if Boston is ready for a bit of London-style fast living. I thought it through on our navy boat coming up and I think it fits well enough.'

‘If you'd sorted it out on the boat why did we go to Nova Scotia? Why not straight to Boston? When we left New Orleans you were all for haste. Why go to Halifax?'

‘When you get thrown a slice of luck, use it to your best advantage. Trent arranged for a ship to be there to pick up my report if I made one. It was our luck that it was in when we needed it. Once out of New Orleans I could see she was a fast craft and well-handled so it gave us time to do our arrival in Boston right.'

‘Right?'

‘A ship docking in Boston unannounced and for no reason other than dropping off a lady and her maid would cause tongues to wag and notice to be taken. We need to arrive without any fuss which is why I told our tame sailor to take us to Halifax. He wasn't wearing any uniform but he was a Royal Navy captain so he could deal with the authorities there and we could keep everything neatly wrapped up. From Halifax I could send my report to Trent and we could travel to Boston without arousing any interest.'

‘What about Trent? When we get to Boston do we wait to hear from him or crack on as soon as Macleod turns up?'

‘When Trent gets my report my guess is he'll send out help. We're on our own and a long way from home. What we're involved in is something put together by Fouché, so trying anything by ourselves is too risky. As for Macleod, either he's acting for himself, which doesn't seem likely, or the Americans have dealt themselves into the game. The question is, will he listen to a sensible offer or will we have to do it the hard way?'

‘If he comes back. All this is based on your guess that he'll bring his prize back to Boston.'

‘He will, I've seen his handiwork up close and I know how his mind will work. That outing in New Orleans wasn't his first, nor his second neither. He's no novice when it comes to villainy, aye, and villainy on a grand scale. They don't teach his tricks in any schoolroom. He may front as a lawyer but his real business is no different to you, me or our late friend Jack Doran. He came well prepared, played a clever game and got clean away. But he's travelling with baggage now and I doubt he planned for that. He played that bird on the wing, I'm sure, which means he'll need a ready bolt-hole to keep her snug until he's ready to broker the best deal he can. Remember, Kitty, it's all about money with the likes of us and so it will be with him.'

‘So what do we do? Make him an offer when he turns up and, if he won't play, take her whatever way we can?'

‘No, we sit on them and hope Trent sends someone quick.'

‘And if he doesn't?'

‘If it looks like we might lose her then we'll go for a quick lift. How we do it I'll work on when we get there and I've had a chance to see what the lay of the land is.'

The ship rolled gently and they both paused to steady themselves.

‘I almost hope he turns down any offer. I owe that bastard for a crack on the head.'

Molly laughed.

‘Well then, let's take the doll first by whatever means we can, and then maybe we'll finish Macleod just for the fun of it.'

And Kitty joined in the laughter.