'Doubts? Why should I have doubts? That's Richard Hilton.'
'Thank you, Captain Morrison,' Barker said, and sat down.
Calthorpe took some minutes to stand up. He consulted his notes, rustled his papers, and only when Belmore had cleared his throat did he actually rise to his feet.
'Morrison,' he asked. 'Do you drink?'
'Eh?'
‘I asked, do you drink?'
'I take a sip, from time to time.'
'Thank you. Do you tell tales?' 'Eh?'
'You are a seafaring man, who drinks. When you are . . . happy, in a bar of an evening, home from the sea, do you ever regale your companions with tales, of the sea?'
'Why ... I suppose I do.'
'Have you ever told anyone of the events of that voyage in 1810, that voyage which was so eventful you can remember it today as if it was your last?'
'Why . . .' Morrison glanced at Dick. 'Maybe,'
Calthorpe appeared to consult his notes. 'You have testified that on landing in Cap Haitien, on the occasion of your last visit there, you were boarded by Negro soldiers and commanded to appear before the general. You thought you were for it. I quote. Would I be correct in interpreting that to mean you were afraid?'
'Afraid? Well, yes, I was afraid. Them niggers . . .'
'You have told us about them niggers, Morrison. Did you take a drink, before going ashore?'
'Eh? Well. . .'
'You are under oath, Morrison.' 'Well, yes, I did.'
'And on being taken ashore, under armed escort, you were confronted with a white man, a general, a very powerful man in that community, who greeted you by name, and when you showed surprise, this man recounted some events which you felt were of significance.'
'Aye. So he did. Eventually.'
Calthorpe frowned, for the first time. 'What do you mean?'
'Well, sir, when first we met, Mr Hilton didn't want me to recognize him. Or so it seemed to me. He wanted to know about Jamaica. It was only after I started telling him that he asked if I remembered him.'
'He asked if you remembered him.' Calthorpe smiled. 'And you were happy enough to do so.' He held up his hand as Morrison would have spoken again. 'I have only two more questions to ask of you, Morrison. And I recommend you answer them very carefully, lest a charge of perjury be brought against you. You have related that on that so well remembered voyage, there was to be a duel, between Richard Hilton and a Captain Lanken. But Richard Hilton could not fight, because of an attack of malaria, and his place was taken by his brother, Anthony. Now, Captain Morrison, is it not true to say that there was no attack of malaria? That the illness was a subterfuge to save Richard Hilton, because he had no knowledge of weapons, and because he was afraid of Captain Lanken?'
'Well, now,' Morrison said. 'Afraid? Well, now . . .'
'You are under oath, Morrison.'
'Well. . .' Morrison gave an apologetic glance at Dick. 'There was some talk, about how it might be a subterfuge.'
'Then tell us this, Morrison. Can you conceive of the man standing over there, the Claimant to the Hilton estates, being physically afraid of anyone? Or being ignorant of the use of weapons? This man, who fought with Christophe, and obtained a reputation as a most formidable soldier, this man, who came to Kingston, and upon being attacked by some ruffians, killed one, maimed another, and disarmed a third, all in a matter of seconds? Can you really suppose the shrinking coward of the Green Knight and the notorious Matthew Warner of Haiti can be one and the same man?'
'A man can change,' Morrison said. 'A man can be taught the use of weapons.'
'No man can change that much, Morrison. Now, my last question. Did Matthew Warner, when reminding you of your mutual past, tell you anything that he could not have learned, from hearsay, perhaps from Richard Hilton himself?'
Morrison frowned at his inquisitor. 'Why, of course not. He remembered what there was to be remembered, and there is an end to it.'
'Thank you, Morrison.' Calthorpe sat down, took a drink of water.
'You may step down, Captain Morrison,' the Earl of Belmore said. 'Mr Barker?'
Barker stood up, half started to turn to look at Dick, and then checked himself. But it needed no glance to convey the information that Morrison had been destroyed, as a witness. It was all or nothing now. 'I call the Reverend Joseph Strong,' Barker said.
Josh entered the courtroom, severely dressed in a black suit, wearing a dog-collar. He looked neither to left nor right, as he climbed the stairs to the box and took the oath. Calthorpe was consulting his notes; Tony leaned back and considered the ceiling. Obviously he would have forgotten what Josh looked like. He would not have forgotten the name, however.
Barker was on his feet. 'May it please your lordship, I would like to introduce this witness.'
'We know of the Reverend Strong,' Belmore pointed out.
Barker cleared his throat. 'Indeed, your lordship, the Reverend Strong is well known, and greatly respected, throughout the island. Yet he comes here today under a handicap, and I would beg the court's indulgence.'
'Handicap? Can the man not speak?'
'He can speak, your lordship. The nature of his handicap will become apparent when I commence examining the witness. Have I the court's indulgence?'
'Yes, yes, man, get on with it,' Belmore barked. He was also unhappy with the way the cross examination of Morrison had turned out.
'Thank you, my lord,' Barker said, and turned towards the witness box. 'Your name is Joseph Strong, and you are a parson of the Baptist Church?'
'That is correct,' Josh said, his voice slow and deep.
'And are you acquainted with the Claimant?'
'I am.'
'In what way?'
'I have known Mr Richard Hilton for twenty years. Since the day of his arrival in Jamaica.'
'And you have no doubt that the man you see behind me is Mr Richard Hilton?'
'None.'
'How can you be sure?'
'I am sure because when we first met, on his return to the island, although I did not identify myself, he recognized me immediately.'
'Thank you, Mr Strong.' The court was silent, and once again Barker half turned as if he would look at Dick, and then changed his mind. Clearly he was sorely tempted to leave matters as they were, and see if Calthorpe would press matters in his cross examination. But the risk was too great of alienating Belmore. Any confession had to come from this side. 'Now, Mr Strong, my learned friend will no doubt wish to point out, in cross examination, that when Mr Hilton first came to Jamaica there was no Reverend Strong preaching, and indeed that it is only in the last five years that your reputation as a man of God has become widespread.'
Calthorpe stood up. 'My lord, I would prefer to ask my own questions.'
'Mr Barker is supposing, Mr Calthorpe,' Belmore said.
'Thank you, your lordship,' Barker said. 'I would therefore like you to tell this court what you were doing when Mr Hilton arrived in Jamaica, in 1810, and how you came to know him so well.'
Josh hesitated for just a moment, then continued speaking in his slow, clear tone. 'I was a slave, in 1810, and worked for Mr Reynolds the lawyer.'
'Bless my soul,' Reynolds remarked, completely forgetting himself.
A rustle spread through the court, and Belmore banged his gavel before leaning forward. 'You were a slave, you say, Mr Strong? Of Mr Reynolds?'
'Yes, my lord.'
'And were manumitted?'
'No, my lord. I was sold, to Mr Richard Hilton, at his request.'
Tony sat up, and the murmur grew.
'Ah,' said the earl. 'And it was Mr Richard Hilton gave you your freedom. Yes, indeed, I understand. You would remember that.'
Josh took a deep breath. 'No, sir, your Excellency. Mr Richard made me his head man. That is why I remember him. He treated me as a friend. But when he disappeared, and Mr Anthony Hilton took over the plantation, he treated me too bad, your Excellency. So I ran away.'
'Ran away?' The earl seemed unable to believe his
ears.
'By God.' Tony was on his feet. 'Josh Merriman. Arrest that man.'
'Quiet. Order. Order in this court,' the earl bellowed, banging his gavel.
The noise slowly subsided.
'I demand my rights, your Grace,' Tony said, still standing. 'That man is a runaway from Hilltop.'
Dick also stood up. 'You have no rights at all, Tony. As you say, Josh is a runaway from Hilltop. The matter is my concern.'
'Your concern? You upstart fraud . . .'
'Gentlemen,' the earl said. 'It may be irregular to hear a case of this nature while both the principals are confined in a cell, but I assure you it can be done.' He turned back to Josh. 'What is your real name?'
'Joshua Merriman, your Excellency.'
The earl looked at Reynolds. 'You recognize this man, Mr Reynolds?'
The lawyer peered at the witness box. 'It is a long time, my lord, but certainly I owned a slave by that name whom I sold to Mr Richard Hilton.'
'And who has been masquerading as a Baptist minister,' the earl mused. 'Mr Barker?'
'I knew of the risk Merriman was taking, my lord. But the fact that he has taken this risk surely establishes the truth of his evidence.'
The earl sighed. 'That is for the jury to decide. I would but remind you, and your principals, that aiding and abetting an absconded slave is a felony. Mr Hilton?' He looked at Dick.
'I was under the impression that I could do as I wished with regard to my own slaves,' Dick said. 'I have already granted Merriman his freedom, so that he may continue his excellent work as a preacher.'
'My lord,' Calthorpe said, entering the debate for the first time, having been handed a scribbled message from Tony. 'This case has not yet been proven. It may never be proven. In my opinion, which has been but hardened by what I have seen and heard here today, it can never be proven. The Claimant may assume what he pleases, surely the fact is that in law this witness is the property of my client until it is otherwise proved.'
'Hm,' said the earl. 'Hm. It will have to be considered. I will adjourn the court until tomorrow while I consider the matter.'
'And in the meanwhile, my lord?' Calthorpe inquired.
The earl looked at Dick, and then at the jury, and then at Josh. 'The slave will have to be confined, of course.'
'In my client's custody, my lord,' Calthorpe said.
Barker got up. 'I must protest, my lord. This man is a witness against the defence. To place him in the care of the defence is to transgress all rules of justice.'
'On the contrary,' Calthorpe said. 'It is you, my learned friend, who have broken the rules. My client merely wishes his rights under the law.' He turned back to the bench. 'My lord, you are the law in this island. Surely you cannot be seen to do anything other than uphold the law.'
The earl frowned at him. 'I do not need you to remind me of my duty or my responsibilities, Mr Calthorpe. Merriman, I am returning you to the custody of your legal owner. Leave the box.'
'My lord,' Dick cried.
'Quiet,' the earl said. 'I will have quiet in this courtroom. Mr Hilton . . . Mr Anthony Hilton . . . you will produce the man Merriman, in this court, well and able to give evidence, whenever I so order. Is that understood? Bailiffs.'
They already waited at the foot of the steps. Merriman gazed at Dick for a moment, then descended.
'And now . . .' the earl began.
'And now, my lord,' Calthorpe said. 'I would like to make a further protest against these affairs. Here me out, my lord, in order that you may consider my point during the adjournment. This case is the clearest attempted fraud I have ever seen, and not a very clever one, at that. Where is the Claimant's proof of identity? It rests in the testimony of a drunken sea captain and a runaway slave. Your lordship will have seen for himself how simple a matter it would be to convince the sea captain, Morrison. And your lordship may well imagine how easy it would be to secure the favourable testimony of a slave, by promising him his freedom if the case is won. As the Claimant confesses he has already done. My lord, these are not witnesses. But my lord, the defence has witnesses to prove that the Claimant cannot be Richard Hilton.'
'Is this an opening speech, Mr Calthorpe?' the earl inquired. 'I do not believe Mr Barker has closed his case as yet.'
'I am endeavouring to save the time of this court,' Calthorpe said. 'It is a well known fact, my lord, that the real Richard Hilton was betrothed to be married before his disappearance, to a Miss Ellen Taggart. That lady is now the wife of Mr Anthony Hilton. Now, my lord, who should better know a man, whatever his present appearance, than a woman to whom he was for four years engaged to be married? I am prepared to produce Mrs Hilton in this court to testify that that man is not Richard Hilton. And further, my lord, it is also a well known fact that the late Richard Hilton perpetrated a criminal assault upon a young lady in Kingston, the night before his disappearance. Now my lord, surely that young lady would be able to remember the identity of her assailant, a man who locked her in a hotel bedroom and brutally raped her. My lord, I am prepared to produce that young lady in this court, also to swear that the Claimant is not Richard Hilton. My lord, I most earnestly entreat that unless my learned friend can offer evidence as conclusive in character as this, that this civil case be dismissed immediately, and that criminal proceedings be instituted against the Claimant.'
The earl stared at him for some seconds, and then at Dick.
But clearly his faith in him had suffered considerably. Particularly was he obviously thinking that no matter what view he might have, the jury would certainly find for Tony. And there was nothing to be done, now. He had gambled and lost. It would only have worked had the earl been determined enough to ride over the legal objections in his determination to discover the truth. And there was nothing he could do. He had not felt so helpless for a very long time.
'Hm,' said the earl. 'Hm. Mr Barker?'
Barker stood up, licked his lips. He also knew the case was lost.
'My lord . . .'
'My lord,' said a quiet voice from the very rear of the room. 'The Claimant may well possess a witness of superior value to those listed by Mr Calthorpe.'
'Eh? Eh?' Belmore peered at the speaker.
Dick turned, as did Tony, both as if plucked by a long rope. Alone of everyone in the court, they had equally recognized the voice. Previously seated amidst the veiled women at the back of the room, the speaker had now thrown back the gauze covering her face to reveal herself as Suzanne Hilton.
17
The Incendiary
'Mother?' Dick exclaimed, in total consternation. 'Mother?' Tony cried, no less astounded. 'What? What?' cried the earl.
'You do not know me, my lord.' Suzanne wore black, and stood with the aid of a stick. Dick realized she was seventy years old. But her voice had not changed. 'My husband and I left Jamaica some forty years ago. But I am Suzanne Hilton, wife of Matthew Hilton, sister of Robert Hilton, and mother of Anthony and Richard Hilton.'
'My God,' the earl cried. The court burst into noise, and people scrambled on their chairs the better to see. Suzanne smiled at them all. Her hair was now entirely white, and there were lines on her face and neck. But that marvellous bone structure was also unchanged.
'Mother.' Tony left his seat and ran to the back of the court to take her hand. 'Why did you not inform me you were coming?'
Suzanne freed herself. 'I thought it best.'
'But . . . how long have you been in the island?'
'Two days.'
'Two days? And not a word?'
'Again, I thought it best.' She had reached the front rows, stood beside Dick. 'Well, sir, have you nothing to say?'
Dick could only stare at her; dimly he heard the earl's gavel calling for order. 'I supposed you had rejected me,' he said at last. 'Did you not receive my letter?'
'Had I not, I would not be here now.' She walked past them, into the well of the court.
The earl continued to bang with his gavel. 'Order. Order. I will have the court
cleared.' He leaned over his desk. 'Suzanne Hilton? By God. Madam, I hope you will allow me to entertain you, at a more suitable moment. But you see us here . . .' He remembered why she was there at all. 'Will you identify that man as your son?'
'If you will allow me a few minutes alone with him, my lord, I will either identify him or swear that he is not my son.'
'Aye, well, there it is. Court will adjourn for fifteen minutes.' He glared at the jury, only now subsiding into quiet. 'You'll accompany me, Mrs Hilton. And you as well, Mr Hilton.'
He was addressing Dick, but Tony hurried forward. 'Am I not entitled to speak with my mother?'
'By all means accompany us, Tony,' Suzanne said.
'Mr Hilton.' Barker leaned out of his seat. 'This is make or break.'
'Aye,' Dick said. 'But she is my mother, Mr Barker.' He followed the earl into the judge's chamber at the rear of the court.
'I will leave you now, madam,' Belmore said. 'To speak with these gentlemen.'
He went outside, and the door closed.
'Well,' Tony said, loudly, 'thank God you are here, Mama, to put an end to this farce. The man's an impostor, some white nigger who fought with Christophe, took the name of Warner, and now has the effrontery . . .'
'Be quiet, Tony,' Suzanne said, softly. She held Dick's arm, peered into his face. 'My God,' she said. 'What did they do to you?'
'It was a fall from a cliff, Mama. But you . . .' 'Mama?' she asked. 'Have you the right to use that word to me?'
'But . . . my letter? The handwriting . . .' 'Bore very little resemblance to the last letter I had from Richard Hilton, a long time ago.' 'The events I described . . .'
'Could easily have been learned.'
'I cannot imagine why you troubled to undertake such a long and dangerous journey,' Tony remarked.
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