by Roger Hurn
But Bloodwine never discovered what the boy was sorry for because he didn’t waste time asking. Instead he grabbed Harry under the arms and swung him up and hurled him through the air and into the fishing smack. The boy landed with a bone-jarring thump in the well of the boat. It reeked of fish but, to Harry’s nostrils, it was the sweetest smell he’d ever experienced. His father had saved him and he wept with gratitude and relief.
Becca and Louisa scrambled up after the children, but before Bloodwine and Richard could escape, the jolly boat finally sank beneath them and they both ended up in the sea. Bloodwine trod water, but Richard flailed about wildly then disappeared under the waves. The thief-taker knew that the air still trapped in the tailor’s lungs would bring him back to the surface again and he swam over to the spot where he’d vanished. Exactly as Bloodwine predicted the fellow’s head reappeared and his mouth gulped in air before he sank back under again. The thief-taker was ready when he resurfaced and grabbed him firmly from behind. ‘Gotcha, my lad,’ he muttered.
He made no effort to reason with Richard or try and calm him because it would have done no good to do so as drowning men in a wind-tossed sea don’t make for good listeners. Instead, Bloodwine contented himself with pinning the young tailor’s arms by his sides and thereby preventing him from attempting to climb up the thief-taker’s body and pull him under in the process.
But the boy was weak with exhaustion and a dead weight, and Bloodwine’s strength was almost spent. ‘Let him go and save yourself,’ said a seductive voice inside the thief-taker’s head. ‘No one will blame you and no one will know. And, after all, you have a family to care for while this boy has no one. Nobody needs him, but there are people depending on you.’
Bloodwine fought against the voice as the waves slapped his face filling his eyes, nose and mouth with bitter water and leaching away the warmth from his body’s core. Then, just as he was about to be persuaded of the great good sense of this course of action, other voices filled his ears while strong hands grasped his shoulders and snatched him and his burden from the sea.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Bloodwine collapsed onto the deck of the fishing smack. He was shivering uncontrollably and was weary to the marrow of his bones when someone dropped a coarse blanket on him. ‘There you go, friend. It ain’t decent to be half naked when there’s ladies present.’
The thief-taker recognised the voice and it didn’t belong to any Devonshire fisherman. He looked up and saw Murray’s two henchmen, Samuel and Jim, standing over him. He sat up and pulled the blanket tightly round his shoulders. ‘Your concern for public decency does you credit, Samuel. And I thank you for this blanket for I’m chilled … and if you have a bottle of brandy on your person that you’d be prepared to share then I’ll be forever in your debt.’
‘I see a dunking in the ocean ain’t exactly stopped your smart mouth, has it thief-taker? But if you want a drop o’ brandy you’d better tell us what we wanna hear.’ Samuel pulled out a glass bottle from his coat pocket and held it up. He uncorked it and took a swig then passed it to his partner who did the same. ‘Well, Bloodwine, what you got to say for yourself?’
The thief-taker’s mouth worked a little as he forced his exhausted brain to function. Then he spoke. ‘I’ve found out exactly how Inglethorpe makes his money and cheats the exchequer … and my companions will swear an oath to that effect. Murray will have the prize he desires.’ He closed his eyes for a second and his shoulders slumped. ‘Now I’ve kept my side of the bargain, so stop your tom-foolery and give me that damned bottle because I’m no use to your master if I’m cold mutton.’
Samuel begrudgingly handed Bloodwine the brandy. ‘Well, you’re an ungrateful fellow and no mistake. Me and Jim here rescue you from a watery grave and that’s all the thanks we get? You’re a scaly cove, thief-taker, damn me if you’re not.’
Bloodwine ignored him and called for Becca. ‘Are the children in health?’ he asked when she scuttled over.
She looked warily at the two men standing over Bloodwine then nodded: ‘They are, Balthy, but they’re mighty fretful and chilled so gimme that brandy bottle an’ I’ll use it ter cure ’em of their agues … an’ Richard’s too.’
The thief-taker passed it over to her and she took a mouthful before hurrying back with it to the children. He sighed deeply. ‘So tell me how did a couple of bum-bailiffs like you end up on a fishing boat a very long way from London at just the exact time I needed to see a couple of friendly faces?’ He smiled wearily. ‘Though if you two qualify as friendly then truly have I fallen amongst thieves.’
Samuel and Jim exchanged glances, but then Samuel shrugged and said: ‘Tell the sorry mafflard, Jim. I can’t be arsed wasting my breath.’
Jim scowled but said: ‘Sir William thought you might need a bit o’ help so we followed Inglethorpe down to Appledore after he left the ship you and the convicts was on … and it’s lucky for you we did. We saw him having a chinwag with a cove suffering from the French disease and he seemed powerful agitated by what he was hearing. It wasn’t long after he set sail for that island of his.’
‘That’s right.’ Despite his aversion to wasting breath, Samuel now took up the story. ‘We bought the aforementioned pox-ridden cove a few nips of brandy and he spilled his guts to us about how his old master had taken on a right rum cove called Bloodwine to be his new factor on the island. He said that the housekeeper, some hideous old trout name of Crabtree, had smelt a rat the moment she’s met him and it was all going to end in tears for the new fellow.’ He smiled nastily. ‘So Jim and me decided that we ought to hire a boat and take a little fishing trip to see if you needed us to pull your arse out of the fire … and it seems you did.’
‘Yes, but to be fair, Sam, I’d say we pulled his arse out of the water rather than the fire.’ Jim chuckled at his own joke.
Samuel’s face darkened. ‘But now we’re taking you back to Appledore then, first thing tomorrow, you’ll be pleased to learn that you’ll be riding in a post chaise to London.’
Bloodwine raised his eyebrows in surprise. ‘A post chaise?
‘That’s right,’ replied Samuel. ‘Sir William can’t have his agent travelling on a stagecoach with the riff-raff and taking forever to arrive. And you sure ain’t no horseback rider so no, my pretty, it’s only the best for you … but your companions will have to shift for themselves.’ Then he smiled his unpleasant smile again. ‘Though that red-headed doxie can earn the price of her fare tonight when we get back to the inn. We like a woman with a little meat on her bones, don’t we, Jim?’
His confederate nodded. ‘Oh, we do indeed, Sam. We do indeed.’
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Four days later, Bloodwine found himself once again in the back room of the tavern where he had first met William Murray. He’d travelled at a helter-skelter pace across roads that the Romans would have scorned as unfit for purpose, but then Murray was not a man to be kept waiting and Bloodwine’s bruised bones were of no concern to him. As it was, the Solicitor General was scowling in a way that didn’t bode well for the thief-taker. Why the bastard looks like a bulldog chewing a wasp, thought Bloodwine and, although he couldn’t for the life of him fathom the reason for Murray’s displeasure, he found out soon enough.
‘Well, sir, I asked you to bring me James Inglethorpe’s head on a platter, but you’ve singularly failed to do so.’ He stared frostily at Bloodwine.
Bloodwine shook his head. ‘On the contrary, my lord, I’ve carried out your instructions to the letter. The strategy I devised enabled me to win Inglethorpe’s trust and I used that trust to gain a position as his factor on the island of Lundy. It was whilst there that I discovered he keeps as his personal slaves the convicts he is legally obliged to transport to the American colonies. And, not content with the profit he makes selling the tobacco his ships bring back with them from Virginia and Maryland, he also smuggles tobacco and uses Lundy as the base for his criminal operations. You told me you were convinced the fello
w is cheating the exchequer of a fortune and growing fat on the proceeds and you charged me to bring the evidence to you so you could expose him and see him disgraced. Well, I’ve braved dangers that other men would have deemed insurmountable and brought witnesses whose testimony regarding his corruption will be music to your ears. So I have kept my part of our bargain, sir. Inglethorpe is done for as your men will confirm when they return to London with my witnesses.’
Murray pressed his thin lips together and his eyes glittered dangerously as he produced a small piece of tightly folded paper from his waistcoat pocket. He unfolded it and held it up and studied it as if reminding himself of its contents. However, Bloodwine had no doubt at all that the Solicitor General knew exactly what the message on the paper said and this pantomime was designed to undermine the thief-taker before he revealed its significance.
‘You know, Bloodwine, travel by post chaise is swift, but not as swift as a pigeon. This epistle I hold in my hand was written by Samuel only two days ago.’ He sneered superciliously. ‘Ah, I see you’re surprised that a brute such as Samuel knows his letters. Well, low, violent men are ten a penny, thief-taker, but low, violent men who can read and write are far more rare and valuable. I collect such men to serve me.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘I thought you were such a one, but now I wonder. For you see, Samuel tells me that, thanks to you allowing yourself to be unmasked, Inglethorpe has abandoned his island and fled abroad.’ He drew in a long breath as if trying to calm himself. ‘I wanted him to stand trial but now, thanks to your bungling, he’s beyond my reach.’ His tone was sharp as a blade.
Bloodwine felt his cheeks flush crimson with anger. ‘I’ve bungled nothing.’
‘On the contrary, thief-taker, you’ve been responsible for a bloodbath of Jacobean proportions which would cause a scandal and ruin my career if it ever became known that you were acting at my behest.’ His expression grew murderous. ‘And my ambition will not allow that.’
The thief-taker suddenly had visions of himself dancing from the gallows tree as the price of his failure, and his hand involuntarily caressed his throat. But, fortunately, his fear was groundless because, irate as he was, Murray had other plans for him. He saw Bloodwine’s gesture and shook his head.
‘Oh calm yourself, man. I’ve instructed Samuel and James to buy the silence of those who have first-hand knowledge of the events on Lundy and you, Bloodwine, were never there.’
The thief-taker swallowed then moistened his lips. ‘No, sir, I never was.’
‘But that doesn’t mean I have no further use for you. You are still in my debt and I do not intend to relieve you of your obligation to repay it until your service to me warrants such generosity on my part.’
Anger at the injustice seethed deep in the thief-taker’s guts, but he contented himself with saying: ‘But why would you want a bungler like me in your employ, my lord? Surely ’tis better to let me go back to my trade of thief-taking and never see me again.’
Murray sat back and steepled his hands. ‘No doubt that would suit you admirably, but I sense I’ve not had the best of you yet, Bloodwine. Inglethorpe may have slipped through my fingers, but there are other, bigger, fish I wish to land and, in helping me to do so, you may yet redeem yourself in my eyes.’ He indicated a pouch on the small table at his side. ‘There’s coin enough in that bag to recompense you for your time and trouble over Inglethorpe, so take it and be gone. Though, hold yourself in readiness, for rest assured I shall send for you again.’
Bloodwine said nothing, but he took the bag and it felt heavy in his hand. He nodded to Murray and then turned and left the room and headed for the drinking den downstairs. He was still Murray’s agent and that left a bitter taste in his mouth, but his mortal enemy, Inglethorpe was out of the picture for now and, more importantly, he had money in his pocket and was alive to spend it. So, as far as the thief-taker was concerned, that made it a good day. He wasn’t fooling himself. He knew dark times and a day of reckoning were coming, but when they did, he’d be ready. ‘And then, mayhap, the devil will dance to your tune, Balthy,’ he muttered. But his particular devil was a dancing master and was already making other plans for Balthazar Bloodwine as the thief-taker would soon find out to his cost.
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