The Hunt for the North Star

by The Hunt for the North Star (retail) (epub)

He departed, and they heard the servants show him out. MacLea looked at Fanning, his face enquiring.

  ‘Dunne wants to buy my freight business between Niagara and Fort Erie,’ Fanning said. ‘With both places exposed to enemy attack, that business has been quite ruined by the war. He thinks I am on my knees, and wants to buy me out at a rock-bottom price.’

  ‘Will he?’ asked MacLea.

  ‘Of course not. I am far from desperate. I have resources Dunne knows nothing about, and when the war is over, trade will recover. I have rejected his offer and will continue to do so. Please be seated, gentlemen. May I offer you refreshment?’

  ‘Thank you, no,’ said MacLea. ‘You indicated that time is short, so I will keep my questions brief. When did you leave America, Mr Fanning?’

  ‘Seven years ago.’

  ‘Why did you depart?’

  ‘I had some difficulties with the authorities there,’ Fanning said.

  ‘Difficulties? Would you care to elaborate on what they were?’

  ‘No.’

  The answer was firm and definite. Murray and MacLea glanced at each other. ‘Have you ever had any trouble with the authorities here?’ Murray asked.

  Fanning smiled slightly. ‘I would hardly be a member of the Assembly if I had. No. Since moving to Canada, gentlemen, I assure you I have been a solid, respectable citizen.’

  ‘So the discovery of the body of a murdered government agent in your house must have come as something of a shock,’ Murray said.

  The smile disappeared. Fanning stirred restlessly, crossing his legs. ‘Is that why you have come to see me?’

  ‘Partly,’ said Murray. He looked around the room. ‘According to the report, it happened in the salon. Where is that, next door? May we see it?’

  ‘I hardly think that would be helpful. The bloodstains have all been scrubbed away, and no trace of the murder remains. The room itself is unremarkable.’

  Murray nodded. ‘Why do you think Fraser was killed here, Mr Fanning?’

  There was a moment of silence. MacLea heard the wind hissing in the trees outside.

  ‘I have no idea what he was doing here,’ Fanning said. ‘I never met the man, nor do I know why he came here that night, or how he came to gain entry into a house that should have been locked, or who killed him. I am as ignorant as yourselves; indeed, probably more so. You at least have read the report into his death.’

  ‘But surely you must have some idea of what happened,’ Murray persisted.

  Fanning shook his head. ‘No, Mr Murray, I do not,’ he said firmly. ‘Now, if you please, let us change the subject. Fraser’s death has been the cause of severe distress to myself and my family, and I do not care to discuss it. I am sure you must have other questions for me.’

  ‘We do,’ said MacLea, leaning forward a little. ‘Did you ever do business with George Wilson from Chippawa?’

  ‘The Niagara peninsula is a small community, Captain. Everyone does business with everyone.’

  ‘How well did you know him?’

  ‘As a businessman, tolerably well. As a person, not at all. I had no idea what his interests were outside of commerce. And to save you asking: no, I did not know he had turned traitor. Had I done so, I would have reported this information to the authorities.’

  MacLea watched him, trying to decide whether to believe him. ‘You also have dealings with the Mohawks of the Grand River.’

  ‘Yes. I trade extensively with the Kanien’kehaka and have done for years.’

  ‘Wilson attempted to suborn Catherine Brant,’ said MacLea, still watching him. ‘He tried to persuade her to join a revolt against the British. Did you know that?’

  ‘No,’ said Fanning.

  ‘Are you personally acquainted with Catherine Brant?’

  Fanning paused for a moment. ‘Yes, I know her,’ he said finally.

  ‘In your opinion, is she loyal?’

  ‘I suggest you ask her yourself,’ said Fanning. ‘Because I have absolutely no idea. My interests with the Mohawks are purely commercial. If you want a political opinion, speak to the Indian Department.’

  ‘As I am sure you know, the Indian Department’s first loyalty is to the Indian Department,’ MacLea said. ‘The interests of the Crown, and the Mohawks, come a long way second. Last week you met Catherine Brant’s emissary, Kanahstatsi, who also calls herself Rebecca Morningstar. What did you talk about?’

  ‘I will not answer that question,’ said Fanning.

  ‘Oh? Why not?’

  ‘I will not answer that question either.’

  MacLea let the silence between them last for a little while. Then he nodded. ‘Very well. Let us turn to another matter. Through your bank in Montreal, you have been sending money to someone in America. Who is this person, and why are you sending money to an enemy country in a time of war?’

  Fanning’s lips twisted in a wry smile. ‘I wonder how you came to learn about that? Well, I’m afraid I am not going to gratify your curiosity. Let’s just say that my actions are in no way detrimental to British interests.’

  ‘Really? How can we be sure of this?’

  ‘You can’t,’ said Fanning. ‘You will have to take my word for it. My interests and the interests of the government coincide in this matter. That is all I am prepared to say.’

  MacLea started to speak, but Fanning held up a hand. ‘No, Captain. Our time is up. My servants will see you out.’

  * * *

  ‘That was not what I expected,’ Fanning said a few minutes later, watching MacLea and Murray walk down the icy street outside. ‘I thought MacLea would be a typical bonehead soldier, all bluff and bluster, and I could easily pull the wool over his eyes. But he missed nothing.’

  ‘I listened to your conversation,’ said Rebecca Morningstar. She had just come into the room. ‘You told him very little.’

  ‘No. But I wonder how much he has guessed. I am not sure you were wise to let him come here, Kanahstatsi.’

  ‘There was no way of stopping him. And Adonwentishon desired it.’

  ‘Adonwentishon is wise. But she doesn’t know everything.’

  Rebecca smiled. ‘Will you be the one to tell her this, Shawátis?’

  ‘No,’ said Fanning. He paused for a moment, contemplating the cold white landscape outside. ‘Never mind MacLea,’ he said. ‘What about Dunne? Why did he come snooping around here?’

  ‘I overheard his offer to buy your business. Do you think it is genuine?’

  ‘No, of course not. He wanted an excuse to find out what I am doing, and how much I know. I pretended disinterest, but I am not sure how successful I was. He is suspicious, Kanahstatsi, and that means he is dangerous.’

  Rebecca Morningstar gestured towards the window. ‘Look outside, Shawátis. Danger is like snow. It falls from the sky and lies on the ground, everywhere. There is peril in the very air we breathe. Hold your nerve, Shawátis. You are almost at the end of the road. Very soon now, you will find what we are looking for.’

  Chapter Twelve

  ‘The governor general has refused the Assembly’s request to recall General Sheaffe,’ said Prideaux Selby. ‘His language was… forthright, shall we say. I don’t think Sir George is very happy. Would you agree, Mr Boydell?’

  ‘Indeed, sir,’ said James Boydell. ‘I have seen Sir George’s letter, and his tone is distinctly sharp. Members of the Assembly are reminded that this is a time of war, and the governor general’s authority is paramount. And, of course, he is quite right. There is a time and place for questioning authority, and the present state of emergency is not it.’

  ‘Nor, I think, is it entirely fair to castigate General Sheaffe while he remains prostrate with illness in Niagara and is unable to defend himself,’ said Selby. ‘What is your view, Mrs Lawrence? I trust Colonel Lawrence will be pleased by this news?’

  ‘Yes, I expect he will be,’ said Charlotte Lawrence. She was seated opposite MacLea, wearing a festive red gown that showed off her figure to full advantage. Her voice wa
s neutral, but there was something guarded in her blue eyes. She appeared to have very little interest in whether her husband was pleased or not.

  Her appearance at the table was one of several surprises. Miss Elizabeth Selby was a kind-hearted soul who could not bear the thought of people being alone at Christmas. Upon learning that Colonel Lawrence had returned to Niagara for two weeks to inspect the defences there, leaving his wife on her own, she had promptly invited Mrs Lawrence to dinner. For similar reasons she had invited Julius Kramer, the Austrian musician, and Rebecca Morningstar. MacLea and Murray, the Boydells, James Givins and his wife, Selby, his daughter and their house guest Josephine Lafitte made up the rest of the table.

  The dining room was light and cheerful; the fire burnt brightly and swags of greenery adorned the walls and ceiling. The company had already dined well, and now the table was covered with cakes and nuts and brilliant-coloured jellies winking like gems in the light. A decanter of port had joined the wine on the table. Outside, a hard, killing cold had driven all but the most hardy indoors and glazed the outside of the windows with a layer of frost that would not melt, no matter how warm the room within.

  ‘The appointment of a new commander might have been fatal to Colonel Lawrence’s hopes,’ Selby observed. ‘He needs General Sheaffe’s support to carry out his own favourite scheme, does he not? Now it would seem he is free to continue with his plans.’

  ‘I assume you are referring to my husband’s intention to attack Sackett’s Harbor,’ said Mrs Lawrence, and now they could hear the sarcasm in her voice. ‘The highly secret plan that everyone in Upper Canada knows about. Even the mice in the attic are gossiping about it as they nibble on their cheese. The whole idea is utterly pointless, and yet Hector will persist.’

  Boydell stirred a little. ‘Hardly pointless, ma’am,’ he said. ‘In principle, Colonel Lawrence’s idea has merit.’

  Mrs Lawrence looked at him as if he had lost his mind.

  ‘Why do you say that?’ asked Major Givins.

  ‘Surely it is obvious. Sackett’s Harbor is the main American naval base and shipyard on Lake Ontario. The Americans have outfitted a small armada of ships there, and our fleet on the lake is outnumbered and outgunned. But if we destroy their base, their fleet will have nowhere to replenish or rearm.’

  ‘But if the Americans have heard the rumours, they will be forewarned,’ Givins said. ‘They will reinforce the place, and Colonel Lawrence’s attack will fail.’

  ‘Not necessarily,’ said Boydell. ‘I am not so pessimistic as Mrs Lawrence, or you, Givins. The Americans may have heard the rumours, but they have not acted on them. The latest intelligence reports suggest that most of the Sackett’s Harbor garrison are away on other duties. Some have gone north to posts along the St Lawrence River, such as Ogdensburgh. Sackett’s Harbor itself is only lightly defended.’

  ‘Gentlemen,’ reproved Miss Selby from her position at the foot of the table. ‘You are forgetting our guest. We Canadians doubtless find these military affairs fascinating, but Mr Kramer can hardly be expected to share our interests.’ She leaned forward and patted the Austrian on the sleeve. ‘Mr Kramer, perhaps you would favour us with some stories from your time at the Austrian court? You have played before the Emperor himself, have you not?’

  ‘Indeed I have, ma’am,’ said Kramer. His English was fluent; his voice had the soft cadences of central Europe, but otherwise was almost accentless. Encouraged by Miss Selby and Mrs Boydell, he launched into a series of stories about life and music in Vienna, sometimes amusing, sometimes scandalous, often both, and soon the entire table was laughing. MacLea, seated between Angelique Givins and Patience Boydell, watched Josephine from the corner of his eye. She wore a simple gown of russet silk and no jewellery, but he could feel her presence like electricity in the air.

  Later, after the winter dusk had fallen and the servants had shuttered the windows, the ladies retired to the drawing room. The men drank a perfunctory glass of port and then joined them, Selby leaning heavily on his stick. Prevailed upon by Miss Selby, Kramer fetched his violin and took up a position by the piano, where he played some light, lively pieces by Mozart and Hummel. Josephine sat on the settee beside Miss Selby, straight-backed and with her hands clasped primly in her lap, listening to the musician and ignoring MacLea. The latter, standing by the window with a glass of madeira in his hand, watched with sinking heart as Charlotte Lawrence drifted slowly but purposefully across the room.

  ‘Captain MacLea,’ she said, curtseying so low that he wondered briefly about the stability of her gown. ‘It is good to see you again. I am sorry my husband did not see fit to present me when we met at Jordan’s.’

  ‘He had other things on his mind,’ said MacLea, bowing.

  ‘He usually does. His own greatness chief among them.’ She glanced towards Josephine. ‘Very pretty, isn’t she?’

  ‘She is a most handsome woman,’ said MacLea calmly.

  ‘She is. Creole, one assumes. She may not be fashionably pale, but I would give a great deal for those cheekbones, and those eyes.’ Mrs Lawrence leant forward, brushing her bosom lightly against MacLea’s sleeve. ‘My husband thought you and she were having a liaison, down in Niagara,’ she murmured.

  ‘I am not responsible for what your husband believes,’ MacLea said.

  She smiled at that, and he saw the sudden glitter in her blue eyes. She was not entirely sober. ‘What is more,’ she whispered, ‘he thinks you and I are having a liaison.’

  ‘Colonel Lawrence credits me with more energy than I possess.’

  Charlotte looked around the room. ‘It is good to see your friend Mr Murray here too. You two are inseparable, are you not? Robin Hood and Little John. Don Quixote and Sancho Panza. Dr Johnson and Mr Boswell.’

  ‘We are nothing like so grand as that,’ MacLea. ‘We’re two simple Scottish gentlemen, cast upon these shores by force of circumstance.’

  ‘You have known each other long?’

  ‘Ten years. We came to Canada at about the same time, and settled in Stormont County down east of Kingston. Before that, I was a volunteer in the Cameronians, and Alec a sergeant in the Black Watch.’

  Charlotte Lawrence raised her perfect eyebrows. ‘A sergeant? You said he was a gentleman.’

  ‘Every soldier in the Black Watch is a gentleman, ma’am, at least in his own eyes. In truth, Alec’s family were just as well off – or just as poor, depending on your point of view – as my own.’

  A thought struck him, and he smiled. ‘You should talk to him. You would find him interesting.’

  Her eyebrows rose again. ‘Not half so interesting as I find you.’

  MacLea said nothing. She leaned closer again. ‘My husband is away for two weeks. The servants hate him almost as much as I do. No one will say anything. Do you understand my meaning, Captain MacLea?’

  He bowed a little. ‘I do, ma’am. And I am sorry, but I must disappoint you. For a dozen reasons and more, I am not the man you seek.’

  She looked at him searchingly. ‘Are you afraid of my husband?’

  ‘I give you my word that I am not.’

  ‘I see.’ She looked at Josephine again. ‘A dozen reasons, you said. Is she one of them?’

  She is all of them, MacLea thought, but again he said nothing.

  ‘I understand,’ said Charlotte Lawrence, and he saw the bitterness in her face as she turned away.

  The Hummel violin sonata came to an end, and Kramer bowed while a light ripple of applause ran around the room. Laying aside his violin, he moved to join the ladies. MacLea saw Josephine smiling and talking with Angelique Givins and Patience Boydell.

  ‘Join me, Captain,’ said Prideaux Selby, pointing to an empty chair beside his own. MacLea sat. ‘Was she seeking to add you to her collection?’ Selby asked. His eyes were following Charlotte Lawrence.

  ‘Something like that,’ said MacLea.

  Selby nodded. ‘Her escapades are well known in York; at least, well known to everyone except her
husband. And yet I think she is a woman to be pitied rather than scorned. Her unhappiness can be seen in her every gesture.’

  The fire popped. Selby closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply. His face had gone pale. MacLea looked at him in concern. ‘You are ill, sir. Shall I call your daughter, or one of the servants?’

  ‘No, do not trouble them. It will pass in a moment. In any case, there is nothing anyone can do.’

  ‘Have you seen a doctor, sir?’

  ‘I have seen several. There is nothing they can do either. I am dying, Captain MacLea. My heart is worn out. I desire only to see my daughter wed and her future happiness ensured. Once that is done, I shall depart in peace.’

  MacLea did not know what to say. ‘Your daughter is a fine young woman,’ he said finally.

  ‘She is an angel sent from heaven.’ The old man opened his eyes again, and smiled. ‘William Derenzy, her fiancé, is a lucky man. I gather you know him.’

  ‘He is a brave man and an honourable one,’ said MacLea. ‘It will be a good match, I think.’

  Selby nodded. ‘I think so too. There was a time when I feared my poor Elizabeth would never find a husband, so venomous was the gossip about her. Fortunately, Captain Derenzy knew who was responsible for the rumours, and ignored them.’

  ‘And who was responsible?’

  ‘That snake Elijah Dunne. Last summer he made advances to her, and when she spurned him, he took revenge by defaming her character in every possible way. I was too old and infirm to call him out, and my younger friends who might have acted for me, Colonel Macdonell, Major Givins, Captain Boydell and others, were all away at the wars. My poor Elizabeth was forced to endure his accusations, of harlotry and worse, without a defender.’

  ‘It sounds like Mr Dunne needs someone to teach him manners,’ MacLea said, remembering Dunne’s sneering voice when they had first met at Jordan’s. A question popped into his head. ‘Why was Mr Dunne himself not on active service last summer? He is of age to serve in the militia.’

  ‘He has an exemption, granted by the governor general,’ Selby said. ‘His freight forwarding business, his boats and wagons, plays a vital role in supplying our army and fleet. He is too important to be risked on the front line, it seems.’