The Constable's Tale (27 page)

“Yes. It is the gateway to the city.”

“But that is not to be his target now?”

“I would not say, even if I knew, the exact place Wolfe has chosen. In fact, no one knows for certain what is going on inside Wolfe’s mind right now. We just know he intends to risk everything, the lives of thousands of British soldiers and tons of munitions and his own career as a soldier, on one final assault before giving up for the winter. But of a certainty it will not be at Beauport.”

“And how do you know this?”

“I have my own sources in Wolfe’s high command who know he has definitively ruled out a second go at that place. The most likely target is the French camp twenty miles upriver at Cap-Rouge. So it would be in the best interests of Britain if Montcalm were to keep a substantial contingent of soldiers committed down here at Beauport.”

Harry remembered hearing about the three officers serving as Wolfe’s brigadiers. Aristocrats all, just like Giles. One of them might well have shared information with an old friend wearing peculiar garb without asking questions.

“By now Ayerdale will have made his way through the lines and delivered his lie to Montcalm. The general will make his own judgment as to Ayerdale’s credibility on this, but he will not be able to ignore it. If the ploy draws even one extra battalion of French soldiers away from the site of the actual invasion, it could spell the difference between success or failure.”

“But where is Maddie McLeod? And what does she have to do with any of this?”

Giles’s eyebrows arched in what could have been a genuine expression of regret. “I am afraid Miss McLeod, through no fault of her own, has become involved in this intrigue.”

“How is that possible?”

“The French officer to whom Richard has been reporting all along is a notorious spymaster. All I know is that his name is d’Brienne, and he is in this country, and he moves in the shadows. Richard said he would reveal his identity later, but for now it would be better he did not. This information is not critical to me at this moment, and in the treacherous world we inhabit, sometimes ignorance is preferred. On the evening Richard was to make his way to the French side, Miss McLeod stumbled upon a letter from d’Brienne with detailed instructions for the crossing. Unfortunately, Miss McLeod is not only bright; she is also fluent in French. She recognized the purpose of the letter. Richard made an effort to explain himself without actually divulging any secrets, telling her that things were not as they seemed, but he quickly saw that he could not risk discovery at this critical stage of the game. He had no choice but to take her with him.”

“If I know Maddie McLeod, she would not have gone peaceably.”

“By heavens, she did not. It took the combined efforts of Ayerdale and his two Indians to convince her that she had no choice.”

“What is this about Indians?”

“A pair of warriors were supplied to him by d’Brienne soon after Richard’s arrival here. It took all three of them to bind Miss McLeod and get a handkerchief into her mouth. Even then, she broke a fine
setting of tableware with her feet on her way out. The heart of a wild highlander beats beneath that lovely breast, I assure you.”

“You speak as if you were there when this happened.”

“I am sorry to tell you that I was. I hated to see it, but Ayerdale had to be allowed to complete his mission.”

Harry considered breaking open Giles’s skull on the spot. Seemingly unaware of his anger, the officer continued. “I believe that Miss McLeod will come to no permanent harm and will be rescued in due time, when our forces are successful. Montcalm is quite the gallant when it comes to women. Especially attractive young ones.”

“Maybe he is, but I’ve heard he allows his Indians privileges with their prisoners. By the way, are you aware that Richard Ayerdale murdered the Campbell family?”

“What makes you think that?”

Harry reached into his jacket pocket for the badge. It was not there. He tried the other pocket. Nothing but clutter Harry had picked up in his travels. The folded-up chart of Pamlico Sound also was missing.

A sickening feeling came over him. Both objects must have somehow slipped out of his pocket. Or someone took them.

He pressed on.

“Do you remember the medal I found in the home of the people who were killed? I passed it around at Judge McLeod’s breakfast table, if you recall. The inscription on the back is a Freemason’s cypher, and I have discovered its meaning. It is the Ayerdale family motto. Ayerdale was inside the Campbell household. The only explanation possible as to why he did not admit this fact that morning and claim the medal as his is that he killed them. Probably because they had discovered something about his mission as a spy, just as Maddie did.”

Giles gestured impatience with his hand. “When we made our bargain he told me about stopping at the Campbell house to get out of the storm while on his way to New Bern. He didn’t come right out and admit he killed them. Maybe he just didn’t want to
say the words. He did say he later discovered he had lost his medallion somewhere, possibly there, and it might cause complications if it were discovered at the place of the murders and the inscription somehow were to be deciphered. He also mentioned that he was missing the nautical chart you showed around. But he would speak no further on this matter of the killings. And I did not press the issue.”

“You did not
press the issue
? The murder of three British subjects?” Harry felt his gall rising again. But before declaring open hostilities, he decided to get as much information as he could. “And why would he have a chart of Pamlico Sound?”

Giles took in a long breath. His imperious manner further infuriating Harry.

“I suppose it will do no harm to tell you this now. Colonel Ayerdale was in North Carolina in the service of Monsieur d’Brienne. His real mission was to survey the ever-shifting depths in the sound for the purpose of picking out a channel between Ocracoke Inlet and New Bern through which French frigates could pass.”

“French ships? In North Carolina?”

“It seems that Louis is actually contemplating sending a fleet to invade your southern coastline.”

The thought came to Harry that Giles might not be just a liar but also a maniac.

“It is his
stratégie du sud
, as he calls it. It’s not quite as far-fetched as you might think. The theory is it would take the pressure off Louis’s forces up here in the North. He proposes to cut your nation in half, disrupt supply lines, maybe even spark an uprising among your slaves. But the French court is terrible at keeping secrets. We knew about the scheme almost as soon as it was hatched. Also, our agents in Paris say the French Parliament is all but fed up with this war, nearly as much as our own. It seems doubtful they would ever approve funds for such an expedition. Which could be a mistake. The scheme sounds a bit harebrained, but it is bold and could even make a difference, given proper execution.”

Giles had been relating all of this in the manner of a professional soldier coolly analyzing the tactics of his enemy. Now he leaned forward and fixed Harry with a purposeful, nearly menacing stare.

“So, I hope you can see that it would not do for this whole business of the badge and the chart to come to light just now. If it did, Richard could not continue functioning as an agent of the Crown. I simply cannot allow that to happen.”

“But he will be called to account for his crimes someday, yes? He will be punished for slaughtering a family?” Harry tried to keep his temper in check. Inwardly, he was boiling.

“I am afraid that is not likely. As an officer of the British Army, an agent of Secretary Pitt, and a peer of the realm, I am empowered to bind my word on behalf of the king and his government. I have promised Richard that he will never come to trial, neither here in America nor in England, for anything illegal he has done up until now. It is part of our bargain. I understand this will be hard for you to accept, Constable Woodyard, but we must keep matters in perspective. The fate of British America must take precedence over the extinction of one North Carolina family, as lamentable as that certainly was.”

Harry was thinking fast, looking for reasons why this arrangement would not work.

“Your entire undertaking now depends on me not making it public,” was the best he could come up with.

Giles leaned back in his chair, the half-smile returning to his face. He looked relaxed, not at all like someone who had just been threatened with exposure. He looked confident, in fact.

“And what proof have you that there is a scheme afoot?”

“The people of New Bern have seen the medal. They may have a different understanding of the matter when I show it again and demonstrate how the code works, what the inscription means. The badge is all the proof anyone needs that Ayerdale was at the Campbell house.”

“Harry, I know that you no longer possess the object of which you speak. Or the chart. They both were lifted from your pocket this
morning by Sergeant Baker before he awakened you. Baker is an old friend from campaigns on the Continent. I am quite sure the chart has already been burned and the badge melted down for its gold. I am allowing him to keep the proceeds as compensation for his efforts.”

“And what of the attacks on me?” Harry spoke evenly, trying not to let his outrage show.

“What attacks?”

“I was set upon by three men during my ride from Williamsburg to Philadelphia. It resulted in the death of a dear friend. I was attacked again aboard a ship by a man who clearly intended to kill me.”

“Richard told me nothing of this. You must consider another explanation. D’Brienne has overseen Ayerdale’s activities ever since he was recruited. D’Brienne may have caught wind of your mission. Perhaps these attacks were made on his orders, without Richard’s knowledge.”

Harry had been sitting in the same position for so long that a leg muscle was making a painful complaint. He stood and walked about, stretching his tendons. And reminded himself of the issue that mattered most.

“And what about Maddie? You say you hope she will be rescued when Wolfe storms the city. But surely she will speak out against Ayerdale as soon as she is free to do so. Your promises will mean nothing to her.”

“No one, either here or on the Continent, thinks this will be the final battle of the war. I hope that as a loyal subject of the king, Miss McLeod also will see the need to preserve Ayerdale’s usefulness.”

“And if the French decide on their own that they can’t take any chances of her ruining Ayerdale’s usefulness to them? Might not they kill her to keep her quiet?”

“It is not in Montcalm’s nature to kill prisoners. But the reality is that Miss McLeod’s fate is out of our hands. Nothing either you or I can do or say in the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours can possibly alter the course of events. As for you, you do have a choice to make. You could raise a commotion. March yourself into Wolfe’s house and, if you’re not arrested again, try to unmask an agent of the Crown as a
turncoat and murderer. Even though you have no proof. You can’t even show that Ayerdale has defected. For all anyone knows, he might simply have slipped aboard an outgoing ship and returned to Virginia with his bride to be. I predict that if that is your choice, you would go back to your home under a cloud, if not outright disgrace, for making unfounded charges against a prominent American from a storied family.”

Giles got out of his chair and squared off in front of Harry. What came next sounded rehearsed. The final words in a scene that had been blocked out in advance.

“Here is the other possible outcome, Harry. I am the one person in the world at this moment who has any idea of how brilliantly you have conducted your pursuit of the Campbells’ killer—and, subsequently, your determination to unmask a spy. Now I ask that you respect the trust I have placed in you during this interview and remain loyal to the British cause, as you swore a few minutes ago you would. You will do nothing to interfere with the playing-out of events that already have been set into motion, and you and I both will place our trust in heaven that all will work out for the best. If you follow this course, I will see to it that you’ll return to New Bern a hero. You will receive a letter of praise from Secretary Pitt and a commendation from the king himself attesting to your fidelity and service. The particulars not specified, of course, but I can guarantee the language of these letters will be fulsome, because I will write them myself. It will take a few weeks for these documents to cross the Atlantic, but I swear they will be forthcoming. Your standing in your community, in the colony of North Carolina and beyond, will be uplifted to an extent that you could never have dreamed. I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t name a government building for you. And one more thing: in my experience, I have found that suitable financial rewards inevitably follow such honors.”

Giles had his back to the window so that Harry could see only his silhouette. A black form wearing the caped robe of a cleric. Underneath that masquerade, the power of the British Empire.

“So, Constable Woodyard,” said the black shape. “Which will it be?”

CHAPTER 27

44: When a man does all he can though it Succeeds not well blame not him that did it.

—R
ULES OF
C
IVILITY

HARRY MADE HIS WAY TO THE DOCK A LITTLE AFTER MIDNIGHT.
Searching under a quarter moon and patchy clouds, he chose an unattended flat-bottom rowboat and fell in with a flotilla of larger vessels making their way upriver on the slack tide. The others sat low in the water, burdened with supplies for the big redcoat encampment a few miles in that direction, he guessed. He got as close to the last one as he dared, hoping to appear part of the convoy without inviting special scrutiny. An unseen shore-side sentry at the cannon emplacement
issued a challenge. One of the sailors gave a one-word response, low and solemn, and they proceeded unmolested.

When they came to the hill where Harry had seen Wolfe two days earlier, he held back, watched the others continue until they were little more than dark specks, then veered off toward the opposite shore. He judged the river here to be less than two miles wide. The cliff on the other side was a featureless black mass lying between pewter-colored water and a matching sky. Recalling a trick taught to him by Natty, he scanned the top of the tree line for some distinctive shape to steer on. He found a shallow
V
that he thought could be the cove Wolfe had been looking at, and headed on that.