‘I don’t. I just want a sip…’
‘There’s none in the house. Mr Strachan made sure there was never any more laudanum in the house than was necessary for your next dosage. He knew there would be moments like this.’
‘That son of a bitch!’
‘That’s no way to talk about a friend who’s nursed you, put up with weeks of abuse from you and made sure your superiors never discovered what a disgrace you’d become.’
Killigrew took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry. I just want a little sip, that’s all…’
‘Mr Killigrew, I would have thought that even you would have worked it out by now. It’s not opium you want, it’s Miss Dadabhoy. The opium’s just a substitute. You have to accept that she’s gone, and get on with your life.’
‘My life’s over. What have I got to live for, now that she’s dead?’
‘There are other women in the world, you know, in case you hadn’t noticed?’
‘Not like Peri. Couldn’t you send one of the servants down to Victoria to get some laudanum? I don’t need much, just a sip. You must know which apothecary Strachan buys it from.’
‘No! You must find something to take your mind off it, that’s all.’ There was a firm rap on the door, and she stood up sharply. ‘Come in.’
Bannatyne entered and regarded his wife with surprise. ‘I did not expect to find you in here, madam,’ he said with cold formality.
‘I was just keeping Mr Killigrew company.’
Bannatyne turned his gaze on the lieutenant. ‘Good to see you up and about, Mr Killigrew. How are you feeling?’
‘Much improved, thank you. And I want to thank both you and your wife for your kindness in taking me in.’
‘Not at all, Mr Killigrew. It’s the least we could do. It would be a terrible shame if the navy lost such a promising young officer all because of one momentary and entirely understandable indiscretion.’ Bannatyne turned to his wife. ‘I wonder if I might have a word with Mr Killigrew in private, madam?’
She nodded and left the room without arguing. Bannatyne crossed to the window. ‘I trust everything is to your satisfaction, Mr Killigrew?’
‘You’ve been more than hospitable, Mr Bannatyne. So much so that I can’t help wondering—’
‘Why?’ Bannatyne finished for him.
Killigrew nodded.
‘You do not care for me, Mr Killigrew. I can see that. No, don’t deny it. I understand from the Reverend Mr Ultzmann that you blame Grafton, Bannatyne and Co. for the war with China. Well, I can see that we are not going to be able to agree on whether or not the war was justified. But that was seven years ago. Both Britain and China need to put the war behind them, to forge a new relationship based on trust and mutual respect.’
‘You make it sound so easy.’
Bannatyne turned back from the window with a faint smile. ‘I did not intend to. I have enough experience of the Chinese – and, yes, of the Foreign Office – to know it will not be that straightforward. It may also be as difficult for you and I to forge a new relationship, Mr Killigrew. But I can assure you that just as Britain and China will be best served by recognising their mutual interests, so it is with you and I. We must put the past behind us and work together.’
‘And what mutual interests do we share?’
‘Zhai Jing-mu may be dead thanks to your efforts, Mr Killigrew, but there are plenty of other pirates out there. Traders like myself need men like you to keep the pilongs suppressed. I scratch your back, Mr Killigrew; I expect you to scratch mine.’
In other words, thought Killigrew, if I don’t do what you want, Captain Morgan is going to find out the real cause of my ‘illness’.
‘I’m afraid my naval training hasn’t equipped me with back-scratching skills, Mr Bannatyne.’
‘Oh, I certainly wouldn’t ask you to do anything contrary to your sense of duty, Mr Killigrew. All I ask is that you make a speedy recovery, and then you can get back where you belong, out hunting pirates.’
Killigrew did not believe a word of it, except perhaps the implication that the sooner he was out of the house, the happier Bannatyne would be. He shivered, and not just because he still felt a little feverish.
* * *
‘Good God, man!’ Captain Morgan exclaimed on seeing Killigrew. ‘You look dreadful!’
‘Thank you, sir. Very good of you to say so.’
Irony was wasted on Morgan. ‘You know, Killigrew, I thought maybe you were malingering, feeling sorry for yourself. I must apologise. You’ve clearly been very ill indeed. Still, Mr Strachan assures me you’re past the infectious stage. Think you’ll be ready to come back on duty soon?’
‘Yes, sir.’ Killigrew felt embarrassed by Morgan’s solicitation, especially since he was now well aware that, in effect, feeling sorry for himself was exactly what he had been doing. ‘I’m feeling much stronger now.’
Bannatyne’s butler entered the room. ‘Dinner is served.’
They went through: Mr and Mrs Bannatyne, Jago Verran, Captain Morgan, Commander Robertson and Killigrew. Verran was a regular guest at the Bannatynes’ dining table, but Killigrew did not know why the reclusive Bannatyne had taken it into his head to invite Morgan and Robertson for dinner.
Table talk at the Bannatynes’ had invariably been stilted since Killigrew had been a guest there – although he suspected that it had always been like that, and his presence was not to be blamed – but with Morgan and Robertson there the atmosphere seemed even more uncomfortable than usual. The only compensation was the food, which was up to its usual standards. Whatever Bannatyne’s faults, he certainly knew how to live.
‘I understand another clipper has been reported missing on the voyage to Singapore,’ Bannatyne remarked over the escalopes d’agneau à la Clamart.
‘Damn it, the Royal Navy can’t be everywhere,’ muttered Morgan. ‘We only have limited resources…’
‘Oh, it was not my intention to imply anything to the contrary,’ said Bannatyne. ‘Please don’t think that we China traders don’t appreciate your sterling efforts against the pilongs. As it happens, I’ve been thinking about what was said at my ball in February, and I think I may have come up with a possible solution.’
‘Oh?’ Morgan asked cautiously.
‘It seems to me we are on the same side, after all. That helping you to bring the pilongs to justice is in my interests as much as anyone’s. So I have decided to put the Golden Dragon and her crew at your disposal.’
Killigrew glanced at Verran, who grinned. The tai-pan had obviously already discussed this with him.
‘That’s damned generous of you, sir,’ said Morgan. Killigrew had the feeling that if Bannatyne had suggested that the captain strip naked and paint himself with woad while singing ‘Buffalo Gals, Won’t You Come Out Tonight?’ accompanied by Ethiopian serenaders, Morgan would have agreed with alacrity.
‘She’s a steamer, and shallow-draughted,’ continued Bannatyne. ‘Just the thing for chasing pirate junks in and out of the creeks and bays on this coast. And Captain Verran here knows these waters better than any other European. I’ll put him and his crew entirely at your disposal.’
‘Naturally we accept,’ said Morgan.
‘There is one condition, however,’ said Bannatyne.
Somehow Killigrew had expected as much. He reached for his wine glass and took a sip, desperately wishing it were a glass of laudanum.
‘Under such circumstances you would want a naval officer on board, in command?’ Bannatyne asked Morgan.
‘Well, naturally.’
‘Then I must insist that Mr Killigrew be given the honour.’
Killigrew almost choked on his wine. ‘Me?’
‘Out of the question,’ Morgan said quickly. ‘Do you want the Golden Dragon to go the way of the Akhandata?’
Bannatyne smiled. ‘I know all about what happened on board the Akhandata, Captain Morgan. As far as I understand it, Killigrew acted with remarkable presence of mind and followed the only course of
action open to him, other than to permit Zhai Jing-mu to escape. I’ve also spoken to Sir Dadabhoy and several of the other traders. We all agreed that the loss of a clipper was a price worth paying to rid the seas of Zhai Jing-mu.’
Killigrew had not seen Framjee since the day Peri had been killed. ‘And what about the loss of his daughter?’ he asked Bannatyne bitterly. ‘Was that a price worth paying?’
‘You mustn’t blame yourself, Mr Killigrew,’ said Mrs Bannatyne, with concern in her eyes.
Her husband reached across and took her hand. She seemed surprised by the gesture. ‘Unfortunately the union of Mrs Bannatyne and I has not yet been blessed with issue, so never having had a daughter I cannot presume to imagine what it must be like to lose one. Our hearts are all with Sir Dadabhoy at this difficult time. But I think we should also bear in mind that it was Zhai Jing-mu who murdered Miss Dadabhoy, not Mr Killigrew here. The lieutenant did everything he could to save that girl’s life, and I think we are indebted to him for that. And while Zhai Jing-mu is dead – thanks solely to Killigrew’s efforts – I also think we should bear in mind that there are plenty of other pilongs in the South China Sea, and we all have loved ones who might one day fall prey to their depredations. If I loan the Golden Dragon to the Royal Navy, I do not want it to be wasted through overcautiousness.’
‘There are no officers under my command who can be accused of overcautiousness,’ said Morgan.
‘I also have Captain Verran’s sensibilities to take into account,’ said Bannatyne, and Verran winked mischievously at Killigrew. Bannatyne smiled. ‘I’m sure you gentlemen must know how possessive captains are about vessels which, strictly speaking, do not belong to them. Since Verran is my best captain, it is not my desire to go against his wishes in this matter. He served with Lieutenant Killigrew when he was in the navy, and he knows the two of them can work together.’
‘That’s as maybe,’ snorted Morgan. ‘But I have plenty of other officers who can do the job just as well, if not better.’
Bannatyne sat back in his chair. ‘Then my offer must be withdrawn.’ Morgan smiled uneasily. ‘Come now, sir. You said it yourself: we are fighting on the same side here. What does it matter which naval officer is put in command of the Golden Dragon?’
‘To you, perhaps, nothing. But to myself and Captain Verran it matters a great deal. I gather from speaking to Mr Killigrew that he holds me responsible for the China War. While our opinions are divided on the necessity of that war, there is nothing I would like better than to put those days behind us. The colony of Hong Kong has a glorious future ahead of it, and we must look to that future. It will doubtless surprise Mr Killigrew, but his disapproval does upset me. I just want him to see that while we may not see eye-to-eye on everything, we are fighting on the same side.’
Morgan caved in. ‘Killigrew is Commander Robertson’s second lieutenant…’
‘I have no objections, sir,’ said Robertson. ‘If Mr Killigrew accepts, of course,’ he added quickly.
‘Well, Mr Killigrew?’
Killigrew stared at Bannatyne while trying to make up his mind. In all his days he had never heard so much hypocrisy and cant as Bannatyne had uttered in the past few minutes and he did not trust the tai-pan an inch. Bannatyne was plotting something, but what, the lieutenant could not imagine. But accepting his offer seemed to be the only way out, and at least with Verran to watch his back Killigrew knew he would be safe.
‘Very well,’ he said at last. ‘I accept.’
* * *
‘Can I buy you fellers a wet?’ the sailor asked in a Liverpudlian accent.
‘That depends,’ said Molineaux. ‘What’s in it for you?’
The monsoon season had arrived with a vengeance, and outside the rain hammered against the shutters of Labtat’s Tavern. The wind forced it under the shingles and the landlord had put pails at strategic points about the room to catch the unending succession of drips. But the fire in the hearth was warm and Molineaux and Ågård were cosy and dry as they stood at the bar and listened to the drops plopping into the overflowing buckets.
The Liverpudlian grinned. ‘Well, if your cap’n’s looking to take on hands, you might mention my tally. Endicott’s the name: Seth Endicott.’
‘Oily Ågård and Wes Molineaux,’ said Ågård. ‘You haven’t run from one of the clippers in the Cap-sing-mun anchorage, have you? Our cap’n don’t hold with deserters.’
‘Wait a moment, Oily,’ said Molineaux. ‘I know this feller. Weren’t you the cove who pulled Tom Tidley out of the drink after the Akhandata blew up?’
‘Tom Tidley?’ said Endicott, bewildered.
‘That’s what we calls our second lieutenant,’ explained Ågård. ‘On account of how he always keeps his rig tidley…’
‘…Even when he’s got a bit tidley himself,’ finished Molineaux.
‘Your second lieutenant? You mean Mr Killigrew. Oh aye, I took him out to Cap-sing-mun, and I brought him back.’ Endicott looked grim. ‘Only problem is, there were three passengers on my pinnace when we left and only one when I returned.’
‘If you work for Framjee, how come you’re looking for a new berth?’ asked Molineaux.
‘Got the sack, didn’t I?’ Endicott said bitterly. ‘Youse fellers must know ’tweren’t my fault Miss Dadabhoy got herself killed. But Sir Dadabhoy didn’t see it that way.’
‘The poor bloke’s upset,’ Molineaux pointed out. ‘He’s just lost his daughter, for Chrissakes. Maybe when he’s had a chance to recover from his loss…’
‘Nah.’ Endicott shook his head. ‘I need blunt now, if I ain’t going to go hungry. Besides, I’m sick of working for these jumped-up tai-pans: Framjee, Bannatyne, the whole bloody lot of ’em. They can all go to hell in a handcart as far as I’m concerned. No, give me a job in the Andrew Miller any day. At least you know where you stand, then.’
‘Aye,’ said Ågård. ‘Up to your neck in it at the bottom of the heap.’
‘Did you used to work for Bannatyne?’ Molineaux asked Endicott.
‘Oh aye. I was on board the Arachne until I got my walking papers.’
‘What did you get the sack for?’
‘’Tweren’t my fault—’
‘No, it never is, is it?’ muttered Molineaux.
‘No, really. They never told us. If you ask me it was to keep crew costs down. The next time she went out she was precious short-handed. Hardly surprising she went down.’
‘Typhoon?’
‘Pilongs. At least, that’s what they say. No survivors… and if you believe that, you’ll believe anything.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘When I was on the Arachne, the ghaut serang – that’s what we call bosuns on the clippers, ghaut serangs – name of Kneebone, Jake Kneebone. Well, the day before the Arachne sailed, half of us was sacked and replaced with a few yellow-bellies. The tai-pan trying to save himself some blunt; leastways, that’s what I thought at the time. A few weeks later word comes back from Singapore: the Arachne never arrived. Well, I thought nothing more of it until a few months after, when who should I see walking around as large as life but Jake Kneebone? He pretended like he didn’t know me, but it were him all right.’
Molineaux reached into his pocket. ‘Let me buy you that drink.’
* * *
Molineaux made his way round to the back of the Bannatynes’ house and knocked on the kitchen door. The Chinese parlour maid opened it and he at once seized her in his arms and gave her a kiss.
‘Let go!’ she protested. ‘You all wet!’
‘A little water never hurt anyone,’ he told her, peeling off his rain-cape and tarpaulin hat and hanging them from a peg close to the cooking range. ‘Is Mr Killigrew in?’
‘Yes, but you no go up there,’ said the parlour maid.
‘Who’s going to stop me?’ Molineaux pointed out. He gave her another peck on the cheek and slipped upstairs.
He was wandering about in search of the lieutenant when a footman emerged from one of
the rooms. ‘May I help you?’ he demanded disdainfully.
‘Yes, I’m looking for Mr Killigrew.’
‘How did you get in? I did not hear you ring the bell.’
‘I can’t help that. Where can I find Mr Killigrew?’
‘I must ask you to wait outside until I can ascertain if the lieutenant—’
A door opened further down the corridor and Mrs Bannatyne emerged. ‘What is it, Ranjit?’
‘This negro is looking for Mr Killigrew, ma’am.’
‘That’s all right, Ranjit. Be about your duties. Come and join us in the games room, Mr Molineaux. Mr Killigrew is teaching me to play All-Fours.’ Dressed in white trousers and a linen shirt, Killigrew sat at a card table topped with green baize. He looked a good deal better than he had done of late, but not as healthy as he usually was, his eyes still sunken in his head and his complexion pallid.
‘What is it you want, Molineaux? Has the captain sent you with a message?’
‘Yes, sir. For your ears only.’
Mrs Bannatyne smiled thinly. ‘I’ll be in the drawing room,’ she told Killigrew, and went out.
‘Bad timing, sir?’ asked Molineaux.
‘I’ll say. I was just teaching her to beg in All-Fours.’
‘It’s all right for some. How are you feeling, sir?’
‘Much improved, thank you for asking. And thank you for helping Strachan and Mrs Bannatyne look after me. I’m sorry I was so unappreciative at the time.’
‘That’s oh-kay, sir. Still think opium should be freely available?’
‘It’s no good banning it: you might as well ban carving knives for fear that people will cut their fingers off.’
‘Carving knives have uses other than cutting off fingers, sir.’
‘And opium’s a powerful medicine. But people need to be educated about the dangers before they make up their own minds whether or not to use it. I only went into that opium den for one night. If I’d known I’d become so… so…’
‘Mr Strachan calls it an “addiction”, sir.’
Killigrew and the Golden Dragon Page 22