by Peter Watt
*
Samuel Forbes truly regretted not leaving England when he had had the opportunity. Now he felt like a hunted animal, and the tic at the side of his eye grew more persistent as he walked towards Molly’s shop, where he was ushered into the back office.
‘I have written to my cousin in Cardiff and he has agreed to help you, but he will require payment for his troubles,’ Molly said. ‘He will arrange a ship to take you to America.’
‘I thank you for helping us,’ Samuel said.
‘I am doing this for Captain Steele,’ Molly replied. ‘You will need to be ready to take a locomotive train to Bristol this Friday, and then travel by coach to Cardiff,’ she said, passing Samuel a piece of paper. ‘This has all the information you will require to make contact with my cousin. From there he will be able to book you passage once you pay him. I will bid you a good voyage.’
Thanking Molly again, Samuel slipped the paper into his pocket.
Molly watched him depart and reflected on how strange life had become since the day a young colonial had first set foot in the rundown tenement she’d shared with her brothers, Owen and Edwin. Fate had brought them all together, and Captain Steele was enmeshed in their lives now. Edwin was dead – killed on the bloody battlefield of the Crimea – and the man she loved above all others, Sergeant Major Conan Curry VC, was far away in India, serving alongside Captain Steele. Molly was growing wealthy from the two shops she now owned, serving the finest confectionary to wealthy patrons. They had all experienced such a dramatic change in their lives, and at the centre of it all was the enigmatic Captain Ian Steele.
*
Rarely did Ian have personal contact with his commanding officer. As their animosity was mutual, he only found himself in Colonel Jenkins’ presence at the officers’ mess when they dined or at formal regimental briefings usually conducted by the regimental second-in-command, Major Dawkins, whom Ian respected for his competence. Whenever Jenkins had him summoned to his office, Ian knew he was in trouble of some kind.
Ian stood to attention in Jenkins’ tent. He could hear the senior NCOs barking orders to the soldiers outside as they drilled, and the clatter of a field kitchen nearby. It was a very hot day and the sweat trickled down both men’s faces.
‘Captain Forbes,’ Jenkins said, and Ian could see that he had an open letter on his desk. ‘I have received disturbing correspondence from London that you may be an imposter.’
Ian could see the grim look of victory on Jenkins’ face.
‘May I ask who has levelled such a preposterous and malicious accusation against my good name?’ he asked, feigning indignation.
‘None other than your alleged brother, Charles Forbes,’ Jenkins answered smugly. ‘Now, I ask why such an honourable man as Charles Forbes would intimate that you are not who you say you are?’
Ian could feel the sweat trickle down inside his jacket and knew that somehow Charles had come into contact with Samuel in London.
‘My brother has never liked me,’ Ian replied. ‘I suspect that this is his way of causing mischief. I would suggest that you write to my father, Sir Archibald, before this matter gets out of hand.’
Jenkins leaned forward in his camp chair and stared at Ian. ‘I know that you are Outram and Havelock’s golden boy, God knows why, but they will not always be around to protect you. I am being posted back to London to attend the newly established staff college there and I will make personal contact with Charles and ensure we sort out this matter. Until then you will remain with your company, but Major Dawkins, who will assume command in my absence, will be reporting to me on your conduct. That is all, Captain Forbes – if that is your real name. You are dismissed.’
Ian saluted and stepped outside the tent into the blast of Indian heat, experiencing the familiar trembling in his hands and the feeling his legs would give way. Somehow he made it back to his tent where he slumped on his camp bed, cursing Samuel for putting them both in this dangerous situation. At least he had General Havelock’s tacit protection, and Jenkins had enough sense not to upset the brilliant general. However, when Jenkins returned to England he would certainly make contact with Charles, and if Charles had managed to find Samuel, Ian knew his time would be over as the Queen’s colonial.
*
Samuel and James arrived at the Paddington railway station in the very early morning to purchase their tickets to Bristol. The train was scheduled to leave at 4.30 am and arrive in Bristol at 10 pm. The two men were dressed in their finest suits, wearing expensive top hats and looking the part of first-class travellers. The fares were expensive but at least they would receive a private cabin with padded seats and windows through which to gaze at the passing countryside. As it was proving to be a warm day the windows would also provide a cooling breeze.
They carried only hand luggage, which meant they did not have to be separated from their bags by the railway porters. On each carriage roof sat a guard in the tradition of horse carriages, and the men could see that the Brunswick green train engine had an open cabin for the railway engineers, who would have to suffer any kind of weather they might encounter on the journey. Their own carriage was painted in chocolate and cream colours, with open carriages being towed behind for the third-class working men and women. The movement of the working class was driven by the massive coal and iron industries of the Welsh valleys, but the railways preferred to transport the wealthier patrons with money to spare, drawn to the tourist pleasures of Bristol.
Samuel and James boarded their carriage and settled opposite each other. ‘At least we will be able to take in the scenery of my country before we depart England.’ Samuel sighed, lighting up a cigar as the engine pulled out of the station, billowing thick, acrid coal smoke into the fading darkness of the summer morning.
‘What if someone was loitering at the railway station to identify us?’ James asked in a concerned voice.
‘I don’t think my brother has the means to have someone watching every train station in the country,’ Samuel replied. ‘I suspect he has the ports in London under watch, but our contact in Cardiff will be able to put us on a ship leaving the Bristol Channel, which is a long way from London and Mr Field. I have arranged for us to be accommodated at a hotel in Bristol tonight, and tomorrow we take our journey to Cardiff on a coach, so just relax and take in our beautiful and historic countryside, old chap. There is nothing we have to concern ourselves with now.’
James tried to settle back in his seat but could not dismiss the nagging feeling that they were still being hunted.
Twenty-five
All had gone smoothly. Samuel and James had stopped overnight at a fashionable hotel in Bristol and the next morning purchased a fare on a coach to Cardiff, where they were able to find the address of their Welsh contact.
Samuel and James were disappointed to see that the Welsh town was a dirty, disease-ridden place thanks to the sudden industrialisation produced by its ironworks and export of coal. So many English and Irish workers had flooded the place that it had shantytowns filled with the desperately poor. Samuel knew his own family had shares in the new industries and felt a twinge of guilt when he took in the poverty of the workers and unemployed in the town bordered by the beautiful and rolling hills of Wales.
Molly’s cousin lived in a tiny tenement house in a row of such places built by the big mining and industrial companies to house their workers.
The two men had walked from the coach depot with directions from those they met on the street.
Samuel knocked on the door and it was opened by a smallish man whose skin appeared to be ingrained with dirt. He was of an indeterminate age, balding, and his clothes were almost ragged.
‘I am Samuel and this is James,’ Samuel said. ‘Your cousin, Molly, informed us that you would know why we are here.’
‘Come in, sirs,’ the man said, opening the door wide to allow them entrance. ‘I know of your plight an
d have made preparations for you to ship out of Cardiff,’ he said. ‘My name is Kevin Jones.’
Samuel glanced around the tiny house. The strong stench of boiled cabbage filled the room. A woman with a wizened face and of similarly indeterminate age appeared. ‘This is Mrs Jones,’ Kevin said awkwardly, and Samuel’s guilt increased at the sight of these malnourished people. He was aware that the rich, and he was one of them, lived off their poverty, making huge profits from their labour and enjoying lives of excessive luxury.
‘I believe that you will require some payment now,’ Samuel said, reaching into his coat pocket and peeling off a wad of English pounds. He handed them to Kevin, whose eyes widened at the amount.
‘Sir, this is more than I agreed with Molly. It is very generous,’ he said. He attempted to pass back an amount of the currency, but Samuel raised his hand.
‘It is what I wish to offer for the trouble you have gone to in assisting us,’ he said with a gentle smile, aware that James was frowning. Their supply of ready cash was diminishing, although they had more than enough money when they returned to New York.
‘My wife can make us a pot of tea and you are welcome to share a meal with us,’ Kevin said.
‘I thank you for your kind offer,’ Samuel said, the stench of the overcooked cabbage still in his nostrils, ‘but James and I will take up temporary accommodation in one of your hotels until it is time for us to depart.’
‘That will be later tonight, so you will not need to arrange accommodation in the town,’ Kevin said. ‘I have been able to get you both a berth on a coal ship leaving on the high tide. Here are your papers for the passage, which contain all the particulars of the ship, berth and time to board. It is steaming to a port in Canada, and from there you will be able to make your way to America. I hope that is to your liking.’
Samuel accepted the papers with thanks, hardly glancing at them, and asked, ‘Do you recommend any establishment in town we might partake of an ale and meal before we depart?’
Kevin thought for a moment, suggesting the best place for a meal for gentlemen who were able to pay.
The two men thanked the couple again, and departed the tenement with directions to the hotel.
*
It was a chance in a million!
Ewen Owens stood amidst the tobacco smoke, staring at the two well-dressed gentlemen imbibing in the bar. Owen gripped his ale and shuffled closer to the pair, who appeared oblivious to him.
Ewen knew from the accent that one of the two men was an American, and the other bore a striking resemblance to the poster Ewen carried in his ragged coat pocket. It had to be Samuel Forbes. He tried to remember what he was to do next to claim his reward. Yes, that was it – Mr Field had instructed that the local constabulary were to be contacted to arrest Mr Forbes on a charge of fraud. But Ewen was afraid that if he left the hotel, the subject of the search might disappear into the crowded city.
Ewen knew that he must remain and observe the wanted pair and find out where they were staying. It was frustrating as he did not trust any of the other patrons to deliver a message to the local police. This was his prize, and he calculated that he could personally lead the constables to wherever the men were residing. Two hours went past and night was arriving. Ewen had used the last of his pennies to buy ale as he sat in a corner watching the two men as a hawk would a coop of chickens.
A bell rang and the two men finished their drinks and went into the dining room.
Ewen felt it was safe to leave and fetch the constables now, as the men would be occupied with dinner for a while.
*
‘Samuel, I swear that man sitting in the corner was watching us,’ James said when they entered the dining room laid out with fine linen and polished cutlery and already filling with well-dressed men and women.
‘You are just being paranoid, dear James,’ Samuel countered. ‘We are safe in Cardiff.’
James turned and, walking to the door of the dining room, looked back at the bar. ‘Don’t you think it is strange that the man I observed left the hotel at just the moment we came in to dine?’ he said. ‘I do not wish to take any chances. I think we ought to leave now.’
Samuel was a little tipsy from the alcohol he had consumed over the last couple of hours. Maybe James was right, he pondered. He had made the mistake of being complacent before. Nowhere in the British Isles seemed to be safe from his brother’s reach. ‘Your instincts may be right, my dear,’ Samuel said. ‘I think it is time that we found a back entrance from this establishment and made our way to Mr Jones’ residence.’
On the street the sun was setting over the smoggy town and already sinking behind the green hills. James and Samuel walked quickly towards the row of tenements, and when they reached Kevin Jones’ house it was his wife who opened the door.
‘My husband is not here,’ she said, not inviting the two men into her house. ‘He has gone to the docks.’
‘Damn!’ Samuel muttered. He was feeling more and more paranoid. The coal ship they were to take passage on was not due to depart for another two hours.
‘James, I think that we should make our way to our ship and board early.’
‘A goddamned good idea,’ James agreed with relief. ‘In my opinion, the sooner we are aboard the better.’ James wanted to add that it had been Samuel’s reckless and impulsive nature that had brought them to this point of fleeing like felons from the law, but he restrained himself. After all, aboard their passage to Canada they would be beyond Charles’ clutches. They were mere hours from escaping both the British law and Charles.
*
Ewen led two uniformed constables and a sergeant to the hotel, but when they arrived they were told by the publican that the Englishman and American had left without dining. It seemed they had left the establishment via the kitchen door.
‘Well, Owens, where do you think they have disappeared to?’ the police sergeant asked irritably.
Ewen screwed up his face in frustration. The generous reward was slipping through his fingers. ‘From what I understand, the two men are attempting to flee the British Isles. Maybe they have a berth on one of our ships departing tonight? I think we should go to the docks.’
‘You had better be right, Ewen Owens, or I will consider doing you for wasting police time,’ the sergeant replied. ‘There are a lot of ships at the docks.’
‘It would have to be one of the cargo ships steaming out of the country,’ Ewen said. ‘That narrows things down.’ He knew the docks like the back of his hand and there was nowhere for the wanted man to hide.
*
In an elite gambling club in London, Colonel Clive Jenkins, recently returned to London from India, sat across the table from Charles Forbes, examining his hand of cards. The game was of secondary importance, however, a way of going unnoticed amongst the rakish gentlemen of the British aristocracy.
‘Your brother is a hard man to kill,’ Jenkins said quietly, staring at his cards.
‘As I informed you, the man in your command is not my brother,’ Charles said, and Jenkins looked at him sharply.
‘Then who is he, old chap?’ Jenkins asked.
‘I have very strong reasons to believe that my brother has swapped roles with some unknown person, probably from the Australian colonies,’ Charles said. ‘However, I have just received a telegraph that the real Samuel Forbes has been sighted in Cardiff, and that the local constabulary will arrest him on fraud charges. When that happens, the imposter, your so-called Captain Forbes, will be revealed for who he really is. I am sure then you will be able to have him court-martialled. Does the army execute imposters pretending to hold the Queen’s commission?’
‘If what you say can be proved, Captain Samuel Forbes will definitely be drummed out of the army, but I doubt it will lead to his execution. He has friends on General Havelock’s staff, and an impressive record of military service.’
<
br /> ‘No matter,’ Charles replied. ‘As long as he is exposed.’
‘It will be my greatest pleasure to have the man in my regiment paraded as an imposter and dishonourably discharged from the army,’ Jenkins said. ‘But what if he is killed before I return from staff college? Does the bounty still exist on his life, old chap?’
‘A gentleman’s agreement is to be honoured,’ Charles replied, laying down his hand on the table with a smirk of satisfaction.
*
The Cardiff dock was a hub of noise and suspended coal dust. Lights illuminated areas where grubby men toiled to ensure the black gold was loaded aboard freighters, and the noise of metal chains and shouting workmen filled the early evening.
Samuel and James made their way towards the gangway of the ship that Kevin had named as their transport to Canada.
‘Stop!’
The command rang out and was followed by a whistle blast. Samuel turned to see three uniformed policemen hurrying towards them, in the company of a civilian. It was obvious they were in deep trouble.
Already the appearance of the Cardiff constabulary had drawn the attention of the men working on the docks, and they paused in their labour to see what the excitement was all about.
‘Stop those men!’ the sergeant commanded.
‘What do we do?’ James asked in panic.
‘We run,’ Samuel said, and broke into a sprint.
Both men discarded their hand luggage to run faster, knowing that the most valuable items they had were the money belts around their waists which contained their supply of English banknotes. The situation looked hopeless when they reached the end of the wharf and turned to see the police only yards away.
‘Jump!’ Samuel said, grabbing James’ arm and hauling him from the edge of the wharf into the dark water many feet below. They hit with a hard splash and disappeared beneath the murky salty water. Samuel was still holding James’ arm as they descended into the depths. Samuel kicked out, desperately forcing his way to the surface, dragging James with him. James spat out a mouthful of dirty water when they broke the surface.