“Therefore, My Lord,” he went to further unroll his scroll but it jumped out of his hands and rolled under the bench. Dolt dove after it.
The court erupted into laughter as he scrounged around, finally holding up the scroll triumphantly even as his wig flopped down. St. George began to hammer with his gavel for silence.
“I think that’s quite enough, Mr. Dolt,” he quickly announced before Dolt continued. “Mr. Cogspeare, you may rebut.”
Dolt sat and Cogspeare stood. It was impossible for him to fail.
“Mr Lord, ladies and gentlemen. We Englishmen pride ourselves on being at the forefront of technology, leading the soldiers of invention into the breach of progress and arriving victorious at the goal of civilization. And yes, profit. Profits are the fruits of our labour. Now, not only has Lord Clinton acted lawfully, but he has also acted like any good Englishman should…” Magnus’s voice trailed off as he turned at a sudden commotion at the side of the room. A woman burst through the door that Magnus had come through earlier, Addison tugging her back.
“Sir, she was in the bolt hole and we didn’t see her! I’m trying to pull her back, but-”
The woman suddenly whipped out an antique gun; a powerful, trumpeted blunderbuss with six large chambers filled with gun powder and bullets attached.
Screams and shouts filled the court room, but just as pandemonium was about to fully blossom, the woman shot one massive shot into the air. There was silence as plaster rained down around them.
“Mary? Mary Craggs?” Wondered Magnus out loud. Minerva made to get out of her seat but Eramus and Amadeus held her down between them.
“Yes!” She cried. She looked very little like the young woman Magnus had met some days ago. Instead of rosy-cheeked and strong, she looked pale and unhinged, her ragged clothes dirty from the early train. And she was very, very dangerous.
“Mary, what are you doing here? With the gun?” Magnus began to edge closer to her.
“Not another step, you bastard. You intruded on the last days I had with my brother, you caused my father’s death, and all because of him?” She pointed the gun to Clinton. “That firedamp-prig!”
“Mary, we are giving him a fair trial. So if you’ll just-”
“I won’t ‘just anything’ Mr. Cogspeare,” she sneered. “And there is no such thing as a fair trial, or justice, for the likes of us. Us common folk, who you all” she turned to the spectators, “prey on, rely on, look down on, tread on, spit on and shit on!” she cackled.
Edwina grabbed her husband’s hand and whispered, “Cornelius, do something.”
“I don’t see how I might do anything right now!”
Magnus got halfway to Mary before she whipped and trained the gun on him again.
“Mary, you don’t want to do this. You’ll put a nail in the coffin of the trial. You’ll doom the case to failure.”
“It’s already a failure, with this moron at the helm of our case!” she cried, gesturing at Dolt. He promptly fainted and slid unobtrusively down to the floor. “And no one will ever know the truth.”
“You don’t think everyone knows the truth already?” he replied suddenly. “Don’t you think that the reporters know, that even the judge knows that Clinton is a morally-bankrupt criminal? He’s been raping the legal system through every loophole he could find, and making loopholes with the help of his bruiser Persuasion Jones. We know that he knew about the mine’s problems and did nothing to fix them, because letting mines die was cheaper than fixing the mine itself. That the profit of working through a storm outweighed the risks. And of course he had George Talliburn killed. He tried to have Lily Pruit killed. We all know, Mary.” He had been edging closer and closer to her, like a snake charmer towards an unstable cobra. And now he grabbed the gun.
“And now, they all know too.” He gestured at the audience as tears began to roll down her cheeks.
With the blunderbuss in Magnus’s safe but shaky hands, a quadrant of intensely uniformed guards burst through the door and unceremoniously picked up Mary and dragged her limp body away. The crowd began to cheer, though for whom it was unclear. The Cogspeare twins slapped each other on the back as their parents grasped each other in relief. Minerva, pushing other spectators out of the way, kicked a guard’s shins and pressed her way towards Magnus. But before she could get to him, Justice St. George bellowed,
“Order, now” And silence and order there was.
“Given these extraordinary circumstances, I will see Mr. Cogspeare, Sir Nicodemus, and Lord Clinton in my chambers, now. And do revive Mr. Dolt and bring him along.”
Magnus went over and, with Addison’s help, got Dolt groggily on his feet, and they followed the judge to his secret chambers.
Chapter 74:
Justice St. George’s chambers were small but tidy, with touches of the Caribbean tastefully placed around the inner sanctum. Even before he sat down at his teak desk, Grimsby began by saying,
“My Lord, you must see how irregular this is. You must cause a mistrial, particularly since I am dismissing Clinton’s barrister from my firm.” Magnus swallowed, but had known that this was coming for some time. Still, it felt like a sword was plunged into his gut. He needed one of Erasmus’s drinks right about now.
St. George held up his hand as he took off his wig and gown, revealing very short black hair and a neat suit. Finally, he said carefully,
“Whether or not Mr. Cogspeare works for your firm is irrelevant. Until this moment, he was obviously the barrister in charge of the defence. And there will be no proceeding of this trial, as I reached my verdict before we were so rudely interrupted.”
“But that’s impossible!” exclaimed Grimsby rather rudely. “You didn’t even hear the evidence!”
“I should not need to remind you, Sir Nicodemus, that it is not impossible since this was not a trial by jury. I have already read all the testimonies, and the trial was merely a formality according to The Crown v. Taid.”
“1579,” added Magnus. St. George nodded to him gracefully even as his former employed glared at him.
“I rule in favour of the plaintives, the miners of Port Prudence.” At Dolt’s bank face, he added, “Congratulations Mr. Dolt.” Dolt smiled wanly, then slumped into a faint again.
“But that’s absurd, you colonial!” Clinton barked, and Nicodemus held him back, suddenly worried about what else the heathen judge would do.
The judge rose to his impressive height.
“Her Majesty put the power and might of the crown behind me. Dispute that, and you will face charges of contempt and treason. Do you wish to continue?” They said nothing but quickly turned. As they left the room, Clinton hissed at Magnus,
“Don’t think that this is over, Cogspeare. You will be ended, and your family will join you in hell soon.”
“Don’t presume to threaten my family, Lord Clinton. They are far too experienced in the arts of mayhem and destruction to leave behind clues like you did.” Clinton flushed and flounced out of the room.
Magnus turned back to the judge, waiting for his inevitable disbarment.
“I need to discuss some things with you, Mr. Cogspeare. But first, would you have someone come in to revive Mr. Dolt, again?”
Chapter 75:
The Cogspeare clan had waited another two hours for Magnus before Justice St. George had sent a messenger out, telling them to go home. And so they went, with Addison, Twym, Alis and even Mr. Dolt in tow. Jepsum and Lily had both declined- he to go home to his mother, and she to disappear into the ether of London, guilty conscience and reference letter in hand.
Arriving back en masse, Steamins showed not a hint of perturbation, though Mrs. Bunsen was miffed that she hadn’t been warned about the extra guests. Bongout, though, was in his element, and at the thought of an even dozen for dinner, began cooking up a veritable feast of Gallic proportions.
Though the day had cleared and the sun finally shone, the family stayed indoors, waiting for Magnus to return. Edwina amused herself
with Alis’s three younger sisters (who had been in Mrs. Bunsen’s care during the trial), thoroughly spoiling them with treats and affection while Cornelius and Sebastian read in the wing chairs by the fireplace. Minerva paced.
In the billiards room, the boys racked a few games.
“So, have you told the parents yet?” asked Quintus, blowing out a plume of perfumed smoke as he chalked the end of his queue.
“What an interesting change of topic,” Amadeus replied, “but no, I haven’t told mother and father that I’m becoming a priest,” he whispered.
“Well, you had better do it soon,” Erasmus said, tipping back his third whiskey sour, “because they’ll be bound to figure it out when you preach them a sermon wearing the full regalia!”
“I was rather counting on the fact that they never go to services of any kind, let alone Catholic ones,” he mumbled. “And what of your proclivities, Declan?” his brother blushed, but as he was about to reply Edwina rushed in.
“What proclivities?” she looked from one son to the others. “Oh, that Declan has no interest in ladies? Well, that’s been perfectly obvious to your father and I since we gave those books on architecture.”
The brothers looked confused.
“Well, it was evident when you ignored carvings of naked women and folded the pages devoted to the ancient Greek nude male. I must say, they did know how to carve them. Now do hurry along, Magnus has returned.” They had no time to be fully horrified or amused, and instead followed their mother into the parlour.
Magnus had returned, but aside from perfunctory greetings, he ignored them all and instead took Minerva’s hand and pulled her out onto the terrace and into the garden.
The whole family crowded the windows.
“What do you think he’s doing?” Edwina gasped, practically leaning out the window trying to listen. Cornelius pulled out a small hearing augmenter and extended it.
“Something about the case…something about her being a help and a hindrance.”
“Your device needs some adjustments, father” Declan observed as everyone leaned out further.
“Look, he’s giving her something!”
“What is it?” asked the three little girls in unison.
“Can’t quite make it out,” replied Twym.
“Is it a box? Is it a ring?” Cornelius grabbed his wife before she fell out of the window.
“It’s…a scroll. And a sheaf of papers,” sighed Amadeus. They all visibly deflated.
“Good Lord,” Erasmus groaned. “No wonder he’s still single.” They all sighed, but a moment later Sebastian grinned.
“Not for long.” They all leaned out again and saw Minerva throw herself at Magnus, and soom they were both entwined in a deep embrace.
“Might I suggest some privacy for Master Magnus,” Steamins entered silently and got just close enough that everyone gave him a dirty look for his obstruction.
But before they could argue, Magnus and Minerva extricated themselves, albeit rather befuddled, and began walking slowly back to the terrace, arm in arm.
When they finally re-entered, Edwina was of course the first to exclaim,
“Congratulations!” They blushed and looked confused.
“Thank you?” Minerva replied, unsure.
“When is the date? What will you wear?”
“Um, it’s tomorrow-”
“Tomorrow?” they all gasped.
“-And I have to wear black.”
Edwina wrapped her arm around Minerva’s shoulders, saying “Oh, my dear! They’re no need to wear black, even if you are enceinte.”
She gasped. “I’m not pregnant! Do I look pregnant?”
“No!”
“But why else would you marry this one?” Erasmus dug his elbow into Magnus.
“The more pressing question is how would he get her in that state!” Quintus guffawed.
“Boys!” exclaimed Cornelius, “That’s enough.”
“Minerva is not with child, and we are not together!” Magnus clarified.
“But then what did you give her? And what was that kissing business?” Sebastian finally asked what everyone was too embarrassed to put into words.
The not-involved couple sat on the loveseat, the others finding other places to sit around the room, and Magnus explained,
“After Justice St. George gave his ruling on the case, he asked me, as a newly-unemployed barrister, to consult on the sentence for Clinton. Though we can’t actually hang or imprison him, he’s been fined so heavily that he’ll have no choice but to liquidate most of his assets. I believe that this will not only force him out of the country in disgrace, but it will also send a strong message to other dubious financiers and magnates. We then discussed my future.”
“I’m so sorry for your job, Magnus my boy,” Cornelius said, “I know how much that meant to you.”
“Not at all, Father. Or rather, not anymore. This case brought the injustice of the justice system to light for me, and I’m determined to be a part of changing it from the inside out. That’s what St. George wanted to talk to me about. He and a number of other men high up in the system want to change it, and so are in the process of creating something called the Crown Prosecution Office. In essence, it will choose to prosecute on behalf of the people. For the people. And he has asked me to be in charge of it!”
“But Magnus, that’s wonderful” exclaimed his mother as Cornelius clapped him on the back.
“Good show!” said some of his brothers, and Twym got out his notebook. After all, this was news.
“But I agreed with the proviso that I could choose my associates based on their merit. Addison, of course, will be my primary secretary,” the young man almost toppled over with pride, “Dolt will be the head researcher, and Minerva,” he took her hand, “will be my head counsel. I can think of no one better to be an ally, since she was such a formidable opponent, even with Dolt.” For once, Minerva was speechless and merely smiled.
“And that kiss?” Quintus reminded him.
“Well, I’ve heard it said that sometimes feelings have a tendency to…erupt uncontrollably.”
“That’s one word for it,” Erasmus whispered into his whiskey glass, Amadeus smacking him on the back of his head.
“Well, would you look at that. Our Magnus with feelings. Good Lord, that calls for drinks all ‘round,” Cornelius exclaimed.
As Steamins began to distribute the libations, he asked, “Master Magnus, do you know if the pulse you had me send to Cornwall was successful?”
“Yes, Steamins, it was,” he replied with a smirk.
“What Pulse?” asked Minerva. But instead of answering, he turned to his mother and asked,
“Mary Craggs is in need of a job, and I do believe we need a new maid.”
“Why, Magnus! Did you conspire for her to come and deliberately collapse the court case?”
“But she brandished a blunderbuss in court! Won’t she be hanged, or at the very least, imprisoned?” asked Quintus incredulously.
Given that I control what cases will be prosecuted, I don’t anticipate any problems. Prosecuting Mary Craggs, and obviously distraught woman, would be a waste of the Court’s time,” he smiled.
“Magnus, that’s positively devious,” grinned Declan.
“I learned from the best,” and he raised his glass to his entire family.
Epilogue:
Lord Edgar Clinton, sitting on his desk above a pile of furniture he had decimated in a rage, screamed for his henchman James.
“Sir?” appeared the ever-placid servant. His employer’s chest heaved as he tried to get control of himself, eyes bulging and face florid with hatred.
“Tell me about the Cogspeare family. Let’s begin with his parents.”
Author’s Note
Steampunk can be a difficult term to explain to the uninitiated, and it often means different things to different people. It is most often seen as an aesthetic that combines the nostalgia of the Victorian past with the innova
tions of the twentieth century, re-imagining what life could have been like if the Victorians had, say, steam-powered computers. In this story, I wanted to use the steampunk genre to highlight some of the issues that the Victorians faced with equal perturbation as do modern-day heroes.
Mining, and coal mining in particular, was the foundation upon which British industry and commerce was built. Without coal, there could have been no steam engine, no trains, no industrial revolution, and no way for the small European island to become the most powerful nation of its era. But the cost of producing coal was a high one. Along with seams of coal, the miners would also dig into pockets of highly flammable gas, mostly methane, which would ignite in the high pressure conditions of the pits. Known as “firedamp”, the primary explosion would often lead to a second, most violent one by igniting the coal dust in the air. It seems as though every year there were mining accidents due to inhumane working conditions. Some of the worst accidents were at Bedford Colliery, Lancashire (1886- 38 fatalities); Blantyre Mine in Scotland (1877, 1878, 1879- 207 fatalities); Astley Pit in Cheshire (1855, 1857, 1870, 1874- 72 fatalities); The Great Western Mine in Wales (1893- 63 fatalities); Hartley Colliery in Northumberland (1862- 204 fatalities); Mauricewood Colliery in Scotland (1889-63 fatalities); Oaks Colliery in Yorkshire (1866- 380 fatalities); Penygraig in Wales (1880, 1884- 115 fatalities); Seaham Colliery in Durham (1880-160 fatalities); Udston Colliery in Scotland (1887- 73 fatalities); Llanerch Colliery (1890- 176 fatalities). After the 1882 Trimdon Grange Colliery explosion that lead to the deaths of 69 men and boys, T.W. Snagge, the local coroner, reported to both Houses of Parliament on the issue of mining losses. Albion Colliery in Wales seemed to be particularly prone to mining accidents; two in 1886, with a total of six men killed, and in 1894 when 290 men and boys, and 123 horses were killed. This latter accident prompted an inquest and a report was filed to the Home Secretary. But though the report stated that the explosion was due to an unsafe working environment and that it was recommended that the Albion Coal Company be prosecuted for negligence, in total only a £12 fine was imposed against the manager and chargeman.
The Cogspeare Conspiracy (The Cogspeare Chronicles Book 1) Page 22