The Smuggler's Gambit (Adam Fletcher Adventure Series Book 1)

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The Smuggler's Gambit (Adam Fletcher Adventure Series Book 1) Page 8

by Sara Whitford


  Chapter Nine

  ADAM SPENT ALL OF THURSDAY and Friday contemplating Richard Rasquelle’s offer. By Saturday, he had decided he would go talk to Mr. Rasquelle and find out what kind of opportunity he wanted to offer. He was nagged briefly by some second thoughts, but he silenced them by calculating that if nothing else came from the meeting, it would at least give him a chance to observe the man, as Boaz had suggested.

  As he approached Rasquelle’s building, which was at the opposite end of the town from Rogers’s warehouse, he felt his pulse quicken. He was conflicted. Part of him wanted to forget the whole idea, but another part of him felt compelled to go through with it. When he finally arrived, he approached the street entrance, which, unlike his master’s warehouse, was just a regular door rather than a large set of cargo doors.

  Once he was inside, Adam noticed how much bigger his master’s warehouse was than Rasquelle’s. It wasn’t surprising, though, considering Emmanuel Rogers had been in town for decades, whereas Richard Rasquelle had only been around a couple of years. The building was positioned longways facing the water, while Rogers’s property was on a deep lot that extended from Taylor Creek back several acres to a roadway.

  The waterfront thoroughfare in Beaufort wasn’t straight. It was a winding path, and there was a big curve just before Mr. Rogers’s property began. It gave his parcel of land a much greater depth than the shallow, wide lot owned by Rasquelle. On the other hand, Rasquelle’s warehouse was newer and right in the heart of town. The two factors, combined with the bustling activity around the building, lent the impression that Rasquelle’s company was much busier.

  Adam asked a couple of men working inside where Mr. Rasquelle was. Just as one of them was about to motion to the opposite side of the building, Mr. Rasquelle came through the waterfront cargo doors and spotted Adam, then crossed the warehouse to greet him.

  “Mr. Fletcher! So glad you decided to come by today. I wasn’t sure if the old man would let you get away.”

  “It’s alright. I’m on a break.”

  Mr. Rasquelle smiled. “Very good then. Why don’t you follow me to my office?”

  Adam nodded and followed him to the other side of the building, where there was a cluster of little rooms side by side. The floor of the warehouse was barer than that of Emmanuel Rogers’s warehouse, and the mood of the place was different. While the men at Rogers’s company worked hard, the atmosphere was friendlier—even with grouchy Boaz. Richard Rasquelle’s workers, on the other hand, didn’t exude that same sense of camaraderie. Even the coopers went about their tasks in silence.

  As they neared Mr. Rasquelle’s office, Adam noticed a door that was different than the others. It was made of thick wood, had a little window with bars over it, and was secured with two padlocks. As they walked past it, Adam craned his head to see if he could glimpse into the little window, but Mr. Rasquelle turned and spoke before he was able to see anything.

  “Right in here,” he said.

  Adam stepped into his office, glancing quickly back into the warehouse.

  “What are the bars for?” he asked as he motioned to the room next door.

  Mr. Rasquelle smiled and cocked his head in the direction of the room. “That one over there, you mean?”

  Adam nodded. “Yes, sir.” He didn’t care if he seemed nosy.

  Mr. Rasquelle sat down at his desk and motioned for Adam to have a seat as well.

  “That’s where we store the most valuable cargo items until they can be delivered.”

  “Oh, I see,” said Adam.

  “We have all sorts of shipments that come and go through this warehouse, Mr. Fletcher. I doubt you would have seen the likes of some of the items you would find here over at Rogers’s Shipping.”

  “Is that so? Interesting.”

  “So tell me, young man. How do you like working for Mr. Rogers?”

  Adam shrugged. “It’s not bad. I like it just fine, actually. Don’t see Mr. Rogers all that much, though, so I can’t really say how it is to work directly for him.”

  “Are you enjoying your job? Your apprenticeship, I mean. Is it what you expected it would be?”

  “Well, I’ve only been at it for about a week, so it’s hard to say.”

  “I would expect you’re not getting paid, being that it is an apprenticeship.”

  “No, sir. I do have room and board, though.”

  “Ah, yes. But you already had that before you went to work for him.”

  Adam smiled and tipped his head in consent. “That is true.”

  “Well, maybe we can change your financial circumstances a bit. I was wondering if you might be interested in an opportunity—one that I imagine would certainly be to your benefit. I know it would be to mine.”

  “What’s that, sir?”

  “I’m glad you asked. I’m sure you’re aware of my commitment to the growth of this little seaport,” said Mr. Rasquelle as he stood from his desk and walked over to gaze out the window overlooking the creek. “I have invested a great deal by setting up my company here when I could have just as easily set up my business in New Bern or Charleston—anywhere, really. Why do you think I did this, Mr. Fletcher?”

  “I don’t know, sir. Why?”

  “Because I believed my talents and my connections could help bring life to this little village. I felt I could bring in a greater variety of merchandise and commodities, and help the people here find eager customers for the fruits of their labor—naval stores, shingles, livestock, tobacco, whatever it may be.”

  “That’s good of you, sir,” said Adam.

  Mr. Rasquelle smiled. “I’d like to think the people know my heart is set first and foremost upon the well-being and growth of this town.”

  He sat back down at his desk. “I also believe in doing everything aboveboard.”

  Mr. Rasquelle waited for a moment. Adam wondered if he was waiting for him to agree with his statement. When he did not, the merchant continued.

  “Let me be very plain. I do not condone smuggling, as much as a burden as tariffs can be. I think we cannot expect to see this town rewarded for its hard work if we do not abide by the rules.”

  “I understand,” said Adam.

  “But in the last two years since I came here, I have uncovered a problem.”

  “What’s that, sir?”

  “What I’m about to discuss with you requires your complete confidence. I need to be assured that you will not breathe a word of this to another living soul.”

  Adam nodded. “My word is as good as yours, I can assure you.”

  Rasquelle smiled. “Very good.” He leaned back in his chair and pressed his fingertips together. “I believe there is someone in this town who has been, shall we say, duplicitous in his dealings—not only with those good souls bringing much-needed merchandise into our port, but also with the Crown’s customs authorities, as well as the very citizens of Port Beaufort.”

  “Who is this man, sir?”

  Rasquelle hesitated before he said, “Emmanuel Rogers.”

  “Emmanuel Rogers? My master?” said Adam. He shouldn’t have been surprised. There was only one other merchant in town, but duplicitous? Surely Mr. Rasquelle must’ve been talking about somebody else.

  “I have heard things,” said Rasquelle, “but I have no way to investigate them. You know how Emmanuel Rogers isolates himself and his company. He never brings anyone new in to work for him, and I believe it’s because he is afraid they will uncover his wrongdoing.”

  Though typically quick on his feet, Adam was unsure of how to respond, so he decided to stay quiet.

  “I think he may have agreed to bring you on as an apprentice because he believed you were young, naïve, and that you could be easily tricked into thinking the way he does business is perfectly normal. I’ll admit that smuggling behavior may be normal in the colonies these days, but it is my intent to set a higher standard, not only for my own company but for Port Beaufort, and even this colony.”

  Adam wrinkle
d his brow. “Why are you telling me all of this, sir?”

  “Because I believe you are much smarter than this man takes you for. Your mother has told me about you, about your aspirations for the future, and I share your desire to see you become successful. I think because of your new job there you may be able to play a vital role in helping bring Emmanuel Rogers to justice once and for all.”

  “Sir?”

  “I would like you to consider working for me—as a matter of public service—to help me gather the evidence necessary to prove what I have suspected about your master since I arrived in this town.”

  “But how?”

  “Your task would be an easy one. I simply want you to continue working for him—for now—but report to me anything and everything you see happening over there. If you hear about any shipments coming or going, let me know. If you learn of any contacts abroad, let me know. And I promise you I will make it worth your while.”

  “Wait a minute. You want me to spy on Mr. Rogers?” Adam was stunned.

  Mr. Rasquelle hesitated before he responded. “Call it whatever you like. I believe you would be doing this as a loyal subject of King George, and I am willing to pay your wages for this great public service.”

  He reached in his pocket and pulled out three silver coins. “Consider this as a down payment.” He slid the money across the desk.

  Adam suddenly felt sick. He didn’t know how to respond. He didn’t want his loyalty to the Crown to be questioned, but at the same time he had no desire to spy on Emmanuel Rogers. Regardless of what Mr. Rasquelle was telling him, he didn’t believe his master was cheating people.

  His mind worked quickly, but finally he said, “Sir, if things are as you say they are, I can’t possibly take payment from you. My reward will be in seeing that justice is done. You can keep your money.”

  Rasquelle studied Adam. After a moment he took the coins and put them back into his pocket.

  “Very well. I can see I made the right decision by asking you to come here today.”

  “How would you want me to go about doing this?” said Adam. “I mean, wouldn’t it look a bit suspicious if I was running down to see you every few days while I’m apprenticed to your competitor?”

  “You are very perceptive, Mr. Fletcher, which is why I think we should meet down at the tavern. I’m sure your mother won’t mind. And I doubt Valentine Hodges would say anything, either.”

  Adam did not like this one bit. It was one thing for Mr. Rasquelle to ask him to spy on his master, but it was quite another thing to try to involve his mother and Valentine and the tavern.

  “I’m not sure if that’s the best idea, sir. I’d rather leave my family out of this. No need to bring something like this to their doorstep.”

  Mr. Rasquelle’s face turned very serious. “I will make it worth their while if they will facilitate our meetings at the tavern. However, I can assure you they will face far more serious troubles if we are not able to come to some sort of agreement. To put it another way, I’m not sure Mr. Hodge’s record is spotless either, considering he’s a longtime client of Mr. Rogers.”

  Adam again found himself speechless.

  Mr. Rasquelle continued: “Now listen. You help me with this problem, and I won’t report Mr. Hodges.”

  Adam felt hot. Richard Rasquelle had just crossed the line. Adam wanted to dive across the desk and grab the man’s throat, but he resisted the temptation.

  Mr. Rasquelle took no note of Adam’s change in expression. “If Emmanuel Rogers is conducting the sort of business that I think he’s conducting, it needs to be stopped, or the very future growth of Port Beaufort may hang in the balance.”

  “Now just wait a minute, sir. Let’s be clear. Are you threatening me? My family?”

  “Oh, I’m not threatening anybody.” Rasquelle chuckled. “I’m simply trying to help you understand what’s at stake here. Maybe Mr. Hodges is complicit in Emmanuel Rogers’s illegal dealings, maybe not. That remains to be seen, but one thing I can tell you is this: if Rogers is not stopped, all of the people of this town will suffer. The Crown wants to see Port Beaufort a success—just as they do all of their colonial outposts—but if they believe that it is a haven for smugglers and tax dodgers, you can be sure that tight restrictions will be put in place, and it wouldn’t surprise me if there weren’t more government officials posted here to enforce the duties. As it is, I’m certain the people of this town enjoy the, shall we say, liberties of having so few officials watching over them.”

  Adam’s jaw tightened. He was trapped and he knew it.

  “Fine. I’ll do it, sir. When would you like to meet with me again?”

  “Good boy. You go back to the tavern to dine and visit every evening, do you not?”

  “I try to.”

  Mr. Rasquelle thought for a moment. “I see no need to decide on a fixed time for our next meeting right now. I’ll just find you there in a few days.”

  “How will I know when you’re coming?” asked Adam.

  “Don’t worry about that. I’ll find you.”

  Adam stood and said, “I better be going.”

  Mr. Rasquelle extended his hand to shake Adam’s. “Indeed. Remember to keep your eyes open, but do not breathe a word of this. Don’t forget what I told you.”

  Adam felt like he was going to be sick. He managed to get out a “yessir” before excusing himself to leave the man’s office and the premises.

  As Adam made the long trek back to his master’s warehouse, he couldn’t help but think back on the day he was bound to Emmanuel Rogers and something the old man had said to his mother—“I promise you I will take care of your boy as though he were my own. Please trust that he’s in good hands.”

  Emmanuel had actually said that. He had said he’d take care of Adam as if he were his own son, and so far he’d treated him well. Why didn’t that mean anything to Adam before? He had only been thinking of his disappointment at not having Richard Rasquelle as his master, and now Mr. Rasquelle was threatening Adam’s family if he didn’t comply with his demands to spy on the old man.

  He knew he wouldn’t be able to do it, but he had no idea how he’d evade Mr. Rasquelle’s request.

  Chapter Ten

  WHEN ADAM GOT BACK TO the warehouse, Martin was waiting for him so they could go to the second dock to make things ready for the pending arrival of La Dama del Caribe.

  Adam climbed into the horse cart and looked around, wondering which way they would travel. “So where is this place?” he asked.

  “It’s a secret,” said Martin. He smiled mischievously at Adam, then clicked his teeth and snapped the reins in his hand.

  “A secret?”

  “We’re going to my cousin’s place,” said the handsome young cooper.

  After a little while Adam said, “Where’s that?”

  “The Martin estate. Where else?”

  Adam laughed. “I guess it’s named after you then, right?”

  “Mm-hm. Can you blame them?” said Martin, his tone cocksure as usual. Then he laughed. “I’m only joking. It is called the Martin estate, but it’s because it belonged to my uncle, William Martin. He was my mom’s brother. Anyway, he passed away, but now it’s being held for my cousin, who got it from my uncle’s estate but was too young to take ownership.”

  Nothing was said for a few more minutes, and Adam couldn’t stand the silence. He asked, “So the second dock is there?”

  Martin nodded and smiled. “Mm-hm.”

  “And it’s a secret,” Adam observed.

  A few more seconds of silence.

  “Why is it a secret?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Martin wasn’t many years older than Adam—only twenty-five to his seventeen—so it aggravated Adam a little that Martin seemed like he was trying to play some kind of game with him.

  They were finally approaching the Martin estate. The brick waterfront house was not especially ornate. Its architectural design was simple. There were no fancy archi
tectural details, no elaborate cornice work. The only exception was a columned porch that wrapped around the house. On the waterfront, a modest dock jutted out into the North River.

  They parked the horse and cart beside the house. Martin led Adam around to the waterfront. They went up on the porch, where Martin pulled a thin cord hanging by the door and waited. Within moments a black man with very dark skin and a shock of white hair upon his head came to the door.

  “Mr. Smith. Good day, sir.”

  The man was very formal.

  “Hello there, Charles!” said Martin. “Laney here?”

  Charles nodded. “Yes, sir. One moment please.”

  As Martin and Adam waited, Adam said, “I assume Lane is your cousin?”

  “Not Lane. Laney. And yes, she is,” said Martin.

  “She?”

  “Yes, she. Laney’s her nickname.”

  While they waited, Adam walked the length of the porch and leaned over the balcony to admire the water view from the house. Just then Adam could hear a young woman’s voice inside the doorway.

  “Well, hello, cousin,” she said.

  “Hello, sweet girl,” said Martin. “I reckon the ol’ warden’s not here today, huh?”

  “No. Thankfully, Absalom is traveling. Only six more months now, you know. I can hardly wait.”

  “You’ll have him out on his ear then, won’t ya, girl?” Martin laughed.

  “Well, he’ll no longer be my warden—I mean guardian.” She grinned. “Getting him off the estate might be a problem if my brother has anything to do with it, though.”

  “Ain’t much Will can say once you’re of age, is there?”

  “I don’t know. We’ll have to wait and see, won’t we?”

  “Laney, this is Adam Fletcher,” said Martin. “Adam, come on over here.”

  Adam scurried back down the porch to where Martin stood. He was stunned when he saw the woman standing inside the doorway. It was the beautiful girl from Richard Rasquelle’s party.

  “This is my cousin, Laney,” said Martin.

  Adam smiled broadly. “Well, how do you do, ma’am?”

 

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