Agent Provocateur
Page 17
Two things almost made him laugh. The look on the man’s face as he was faced with an annoyed Blaez who was stood in wolf pose with his hackles up and teeth out, and the casual pose of Caroline as she pointed the now cocked pistol at him.
Marty looked him over. He was Indian, as were at least half of the crew, darker skinned than Ranjit and quite short.
“I assume you speak English as you were listening at our door,” Marty stated, “Now, I want to know why.”
The man looked terrified but said nothing. Marty could see defiance in his eyes despite his fear.
“Blaez, come.”
Blaez stepped closer to the man and growled deep in his throat.
“You know this breed of dog bites people in one of two very painful places,” Marty explained conversationally, “In the armpit,” which he pointed to, “and in the groin.” His finger travelled down his body until it pointed at his crotch.
The man’s eyes got even wider.
“Or,” he drew his knife, “I can cut them off and just feed them to him. It’s up to you.” He smiled.
Just then, Mary walked into the room and stopped dead at the scene in front of her. She took it all in at a glance. Then with a murmured, “M’Lady” she stepped over, took Beth from Caroline and went back into the nursery.
“Thomas!” Marty called, and a second later their footman came in.
“Give my regards to the captain and ask him to attend us at his earliest convenience,” Marty instructed, “Oh, and tell him to bring his master at arms.”
He turned his attention back to the crewman.
“Now Mr… What is your name by the way?”
“Dhawan, sahib.”
“Mr. Dhawan, why were you listening at my door?”
Again, the look of defiance underneath the fear.
“Oh dear,” Marty said, “You really are going to make me let Blaez here bite some parts off of you. Aren’t you?”
“Blaez!” Marty commanded and pointed at his crotch.
Blaez advanced head down, teeth bared, growling.
“I was told to listen and find out what your mission in India is,” Dhawan blurted out, his head rocking from side to side in distress.
“Who says I have a mission?” Marty asked. “I am here as a member of the East India Company.”
“I don’t know. I was just given instructions, Sahib.”
“Who gave you instructions?” Caroline asked.
“Memsahib, I was given the instruction in England by a man who came on board the ship. He knew where my family lived and my wife and children’s names. He said bad things would happen to them if I didn’t do what he said.”
Just then, there was a knock on the door and the captain walked in with his master at arms.
“Is there a problem, m’Lord?” he asked, looking at Dhawan.
Marty was thoughtful and said,
“No, I think we have an opportunity.”
Chapter 19: Sleight of Hand
They arrived in Madras to find they were the first of the convoy to arrive. They caused quite a stir with their prize and the news of what it was. The passengers disembarked and were met by carriages on the dock. Lord Candor and his wife were no exception. They were met by three carriages. One for them and two for their eight servants and luggage.
They were taken to a villa, or bungalow as it was called locally, on the outskirts of Georgetown in a leafy suburb. The house already had some native staff. A butler, a cook, and several girls.
The heat was oppressive at over ninety degrees, and it was humid. A typical Madras September by all accounts. The house was airy with all the windows open and had fans operated by young boys who sat outside and pulled on a string to work them.
All the beds had nets around them to keep away the biting insects that came out at night.
Caroline immediately changed into a light silk gown and got Marty into a linen suit that was more suitable than the heavy wool he had been wearing.
Their first meal was interesting to say the least. Their own cook had clashed head on with the Indian one and they ended up making separate dishes. There was a pie made of mutton and a rich red curry made of the same meat. There was rice delicately seasoned with saffron and cumin and boiled potatoes.
Beth didn’t like the heat and was fractious, which worried Blaez, who growled and snapped at anyone who got near her except Mary and Caroline.
But they endured and settled in. The cooks worked out their differences and learnt about each other’s cuisines. The butler learnt how Caroline wanted the house to be run.
Four days after they landed, Matai arrived on the porch after dark and stayed in the shadows away from the lamp light falling from the windows. Marty went out when he heard the call of a particular bird that was native to the mountains in the Basque homeland. He stood in the light and sipped a glass of port.
“Dhawan made contact as he was instructed and passed on the information we gave him. We followed the man he met and found out he is a merchant based in Madras who deals in silk,” Matai whispered, “We have been watching him ever since and have identified three people who we think are interesting.”
Marty nodded to show he had heard and understood.
“Antton is watching the merchant, and I have followed two of the three and have their home addresses. We could do with more manpower.”
Marty nodded and turned to go back in doors.
He went to the stables where the rest of his men were billeted and detailed Garai and John Smith to help Matai. He gave them some specific instructions and they slipped out silently and disappeared into the dark.
Tom looked up from the shirt he was making from some lightweight cotton material he had gotten at the market.
“Think they will find anything?” he asked.
Marty stuck his hands in his pockets and looked out of the open door.
“Hopefully. We have made our play, and now we need to follow through the best we can.”
“Well, if we have to search every French enclave we’re going to be out here for a long long time.”
“I know. That’s why we need them to find something.”
The next night, Marty was gotten out of bed by his footman Nigel. He went into the living room and there were all four of his men. They looked like they had been in a bit of a fight.
“What happened?”
“We were ambushed,” said John, “They must have seen us doing the last blokes house and jumped us as we were on our way back.”
“Any survivors on their side?”
“No none,” Matai stated.
“Any idea if they were attached to any of the men you have been following?”
“No, they looked like your general run of the mill thugs. I think they thought we might ‘ave lifted some valewables,” replied John, mangling the English language as usual.
“The bodies?”
“Chucked ‘em in the river.”
“The thousand-pound question. Did you find anything?”
“We wondered when you’d ask that,” smirked Matai and held out his hand. The others all put a sovereign in his palm with looks of annoyance or regret.
Marty grinned and raised his eyebrows in question.
“I won the bet,” Matai said.
“That, I can see. Did you find anything?”
“Oh that. Yes, we did.”
“Matai had to do his thing with a couple of sealed envelopes, but we found this.” John passed over some papers.
“Copies, I hope.”
“Of course. He will never know they was opened.”
Marty scanned the documents then looked up and softly said,
“Mahé, the agents are based in Mahé.”
“Get Dhawan and his family moved to Calcutta and give them the new identities we agreed on with the general. We need to keep our word on that. Make sure the French agents don’t see it.”
Marty met General Lake and Ranjit Sihng at Fort Saint George. There was a tall man there in
military uniform. He had a long face, a prominent hooked nose, dark hair and piercing brown eyes. He introduced himself as Arthur Wellesley, the governor of Seringapatam and Mysore.
The four of them sat around a large table with glasses of chilled lemonade in front of them.
“So, the agitators are based in Mahé. That makes them unreachable unless we can catch them outside of their territory,” Concluded Wellesley after Marty had told them what they had found.
Marty sat back in his chair and thought about the problem. Mahé was the other side of India to Madras on the west coast. It was a long established French colony. France and England were at peace.
“It couldn’t be simpler,” he said, “Ranjit, what do you think to a little trip to Seringapatam with Governor Wellesley escorting a number of the pirates that were captured on the trip over.”
The general sat back and lit a cheroot.
“William said you were a bright boy when he recommended you to us. You obviously have a plan.”
“Well, I have the beginnings of a plan,” he admitted, slightly irked at being called a boy. “The details can be worked out later as we get more information. But right now, I need to get my team closer to Mahé and I don’t need the French to know we are coming. So, we are going to sail that brig out of here and you are going to arrange for a Marine sloop to take us off when we are out of sight.”
General Lane agreed and asked,
“And how would you like to be re-introduced to shore?”
“As prisoners. You will want them taken to Seringapatam to stand trial and hang as examples,” Marty replied, nodding towards Wellesley.
“Won’t seven prisoners stand out?” asked Wellesley.
“That’s why you will take some of the prisoners from the brig as well. I will make sure none of them talk.”
The next morning, Marty visited the cells in Fort Saint George where the pirates from the brig were held. He got Billy Smith brought out and he talked to him in a closed room.
“Still want to do for me?” Marty asked.
“Given half a chance but they’m gonna ‘ang me first ain’t they,” Billy replied scornfully.
“Well, I have a proposition for you that might change that.”
Billy looked suspicious but nodded for him to continue.
“I want you to be part of a group of prisoners that are going to be transferred to Seringapatam. Me and my boys will be part of it too. All you have to do is play along and make sure the others do as well. In payment, I will guarantee a pardon for all of you.”
“How can a lieutenant guarantee that?”
“A lieutenant can’t, but a Lord can.”
“Who’s that then?”
“Me.”
“What? You? You ain’t no Lord. You be just a miner’s son from Dorset.”
“That’s where you are wrong,” Marty reconsidered “Well, you’re right about the miner’s son bit, but I am Lord Candor.”
“You be him? They was talking about him on the way back. Sayin’ what a brilliant bloke he was to take our brig with a company ship.”
Marty leant against a wall and let him talk.
“You be married then?”
Marty didn’t answer any more questions. Instead, he asked,
“Will you do the deal?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“You can hang.”
Billy hardly had to think about it as he really had no choice.
“Alright, I’m in.”
Marty held out his hand and Billy took it.
“One more thing. If you or any of the others fuck this up, you will all hang. Clear?”
“Yeah, I expected as much. It’s clear and I expect you will do it yerself if it comes to it.”
“Good, now go and get me nine more volunteers.”
They sailed out on the brig at the beginning of October and, as planned, transferred to a marine sloop as soon as they were over the horizon.
They changed into typical pirate clothes and dirtied themselves up to the point no one would recognize them. They weren’t treated kindly as they left the ship in chains. The marines playing it up for all they were worth. Wilson growled that he would find one particular marine and teach him the true nature of pain if he met him again.
Thrown into a cell which already held ten men, they made themselves at home. They had no visible weapons but Wilson’s extreme size and the mere rumor of their competence at street fighting kept the peace.
The next morning, they were herded out and into prison wagons, simple cages on wagon beds, and set off in a convoy with a brigade of cavalry led by Wellesley himself. It would take seven to eight days, depending on the weather, to make the trip.
They were let out to walk in line behind the wagons once a day and at night they were chained together and slept under blankets on the ground. They were never out from under the muskets of the escort even to go to the toilet.
Marty insisted the façade was maintained as they couldn’t take the chance that someone would smell a rat before they got to Seringapatam. As it turned out, they got there in seven days as the rain held off and the roads were dry.
They crossed the bridge onto the island formed by the Northern and Southern branches of the river Kaveri. The eastern end of the island was taken up with a Fort, which had been the stronghold of Tipu Sultan until the East India Company besieged it in 1799 and killed Tipu with a hail of bullets, four of which actually found their mark.
Their destination was the fort and once inside they were released from their shackles. Wellesley walked over and invited Martin and his men to join him in the main building.
The pirates were taken to an empty barracks and locked in under guard.
Inside the building they were taken to rooms with baths and clean clothes.
Marty had a bath then dressed in a silk shirt and loose-fitting trousers. He donned a weapons belt with a sword that had been lent to him by Wellesley, then pulled on a light blue long jacket that came down to his thighs.
A servant came and informed him that dinner was served, and he followed him to the dining room. Wellesley and Ranjit were already at the table. Marty took a chair that was held out for him and had a napkin laid on his lap by an attentive servant.
“Good evening, Governor Wellesley, Ranjit,” Marty greeted them.
“Good evening and please call me Arthur,” replied Wellesley.
“Then please call me Martin.”
The first course was served, a delicious mulligatawny soup.
“What do you plan to do next?” Ranjit asked as the bowls were cleared away.
“Well, we need to get me and my team into Mahé, with a believable cover story.”
The second course was delivered. A lightly battered, spiced, fried fish served with a salad.
“As escaped prisoners perhaps?” Arthur suggested.
“If we can contrive a suitable escape it would work,” Marty conceded.
The three of them became thoughtful as they ate. Every now and then, one would go to say something then shake their heads as they realized their idea wouldn’t work for some reason.
Marty turned the conversation to general matters as they finished their meal. The meat dish was a chicken dish with onions and rice. Marty thought it was delicious.
“May I make a suggestion?” Marty asked.
The other two nodded.
“Bring my men in and let them and us throw some ideas around and see what we can come up with.”
“Unconventional,” observed Arthur. “Do you usually include your men in your planning?”
“It depends on how unconventional the situation is,” Marty responded, “In our business the lines are a little blurred at times.”
“But you are still the leader,” stated Ranjit.
“Oh yes, I always have the final word, especially if we are on ship.”
A servant was dispatched and ten minutes later, the men arrived. They were suitably respectful of the ranks of their hosts.
All of them just studied the map for a long moment.
Mattai pointed to the west of the town and asked,
“Is the river navigable to this lake?”
“Yes, the locals fish there,” Arthur answered.
“Where do they land the fish?” asked Tom.
Arthur pointed to the North shore of the river just West of the tip of the island.
“Here at Agram.”
“If we wanted to avoid Mysore, we would want to go down river to here,” Marty added and pointed to an area where the river seemed to open out into a lake, “and then take this branch down to Katte Malalawadi.”
“If I can have some paper and writing materials, I can make a copy of the map,” John Smith volunteered.
Arthur called a servant and the necessary materials soon arrived.
“But how are you going to stage an escape?” The general asked, a little exasperated by the whole process.
“With respect, sir,” said Tom, “It ain’t no good planning a breakout if we cain’t get away. So, we looks at the escape route first and then works backwards to that.”
Marty suppressed a grin and saw Arthur had covered his mouth and was having a small coughing fit.
“So, we need to get to the boats and lift one of them. How do we get to the dock from the Fort?” Wilson asked.
“You can pick us up and carry us,” joked Matai.
“An’ I’d hold yer head underwater all the way across,” Wilson responded.
“There is a bridge here,” Antton observed, pointing to one on the Northwest corner of the island.
“That one was severely damaged during the siege. We don’t trust it enough to use it,” Arthur supplied.
“But can it still be crossed?” Antton persisted.
“Well yes, I suppose it could, but there are gaps and parts are still falling off,” Arthur confirmed.
Marty grinned at the team and got grins in reply. All they had to do now was figure out how to get out of the fort.
“One fing about Forts is they be designed to keep people out not in,” Tom observed.