Revenge of an Englishman

by Kevin Patrick

  "It’s for the funeral of someone important," the driver stated the cause of the traffic.

  "Oh, I see," I responded.

  "It was an unexpected death so many in the community are shocked more than anything. Otherwise, I don't think Mr. Waybridge would have had many mourners coming to see him off," the driver went on to say, obviously talking about Charles.

  "And why would that be?" my interest in the matter had been piqued.

  "Well he was important for our town because he invested a lot in housing and funding organisations, but he was not a very nice man. He gave away money to causes that he believed would yield a higher reward. He was a profiteer, not some messiah."

  "I understand what you mean. Many men are like that."

  "Forgive me, it is wrong to speak ill of the dead. I hope Mr. Waybridge finds peace in heaven, it is just that I find it difficult to believe he was a messiah of some sort."

  "It is perfectly fine to have your own opinion and to express it. I certainly will not judge you for it as I find it difficult to believe that the Messiah was even a messiah in the first place. If a man is bad, then his death will not alter that. Likewise, if a man is good then his death will not change the goodness that was inside of him."

  "Well then, let me say that he was not a person who I admired and his death will not be a loss to me."

  "Nor to me," I responded, ending the conversation.

  A couple of stages and many hours later, we arrived in Liverpool and the stagecoach brought me right into the centre of the town. Being a creature of habit, as soon as I left the stagecoach, as well as the nice driver behind, I went to find a hotel where I could stay for my duration. I carried my travelling trunk with me so the proximity of the hotel was a more important factor to me than the price or position. In the centre of the town, an average boutique hotel was spotted and I rented a room there for a further seven days. Unlike the previous cities that I had travelled to, Liverpool was just experiencing its morning whereas I had arrived in both London and Birmingham during the evening period of the day. This change in arrival time allowed me to begin my planning at once for Edward's demise. I had his address written down on an envelope and after I had sorted everything that needed to be sorted in the hotel I bought a map and began to make my way towards the area of Liverpool where he was a resident.

  It did not take me long to find his house. Unlike James and Charles, Edward lived quite modestly in an average-sized house in a row of sixteen. There was a park adjacent to his house and a wooden bench that was positioned staring right in the direction of his house. The street that he lived on was a buzz of activity and many children from the different households played together in the park while the mothers would sit around and converse. I never saw any of the men of the households as I suspected they were always engaged in work or thought that they were too serious to sit and mingle in the park.

  For the first few days, I always sat in the park for the entire day during the daylight hours, leaving only at breakfast, lunch and dinner time. I brought newspapers with me and pretended to read them from time to time, so as not to arouse suspicion, but my focus was always on Edward's house. However, no matter how much attention I paid to the house I never saw anyone go in or come out of it. I began to worry that Edward and his family had quit Liverpool and gone to another location. Edward was a keen hunter and still a member of the navy so there were many possibilities.

  After four days of waiting in the park and hoping that something would happen, I finally had to ask someone about the household.

  "Do you know who lives there?" I asked one of the older looking children in the park, pointing at Edward's house.

  The child told me he did know and then asked me why I wanted to know.

  "Do you know where the lord of the house is? I think the property is vacant at the moment," I asked the child again.

  The conversation was very much one way. I asked questions using full and simple sentences, and in contrast, the young child gave one-word answers and a series of nods and shrugs. After I asked this child, I went on to ask another child who was just as much as an empty vessel as the first. I tried asking some of the women who gathered around the park at twilight when their choirs were completed, but they were as much informed about the situation as the children were.

  "The people who live there have been here all season, so I see no reason why the house should be vacant. There was no answer on the door when you knocked it?" one woman eventually said to me. I did not want to tell her that I had not knocked on the door so I thanked her for her words and left her.

  Along with the newspapers that I brought with me to the park, I also brought my sister's letter that she had written with Edward's house address on it. I had read the letter many times and it had given me some information about Edward and his family. I still had not decided whether or not Alice had cryptically written the letter for my benefit or if she actually did think that I would deliver it to the household. Regardless, as I needed an excuse to knock on the door and investigate whether or not Edward was at home I decided to use the letter to my advantage.

  Hoping that Edward would not see through my disguise I approached his house and knocked on his door. A minute passed and nothing happened. I knocked on the door again and this time I could hear crying from within the house. The door remained unmoved and I heard no footsteps or signs of anyone coming to open the door, but the noise of someone crying provided me with evidence that the house was not as vacant as I had first suspected. Neither the crying nor my knocking on the door ceased. I would not give up until somebody answered the door.

  My persistence paid off on this occasion because soon the door was opened. The woman that opened it was holding a crying baby and the woman's face was flustered and looked worn-out, it was also as red as the crying baby's face. I assumed that the woman was Edward's wife. She asked me who I was and what I wanted. I told her that I was Monsieur Levasseur and a mutual friend of ours had asked me to deliver a letter to the master of the house.

  "My husband, Edward, is not here and is not expected back until Tuesday. May I enquire who the mutual friend is?" the woman said, confirming her to be the wife of Edward.

  I told Edward's wife that the letter was given to me by Mr. and Mrs. Cromwell. His wife seemed surprised and pleasantly pleased upon hearing the letter. The wife then invited me into her house for tea and since we were mutual friends of the Cromwell family, she suspected that I was an esteemed member of society too.

  "Please come in. I can offer you some tea and cake if it is to your liking," Edward's wife said.

  "That is very generous of you," I began. I wanted to thank her for the suggestion and kindly decline the offer, but before I could speak she spoke again and told me to follow her inside. I felt compelled to listen to her command.

  "Let me just put this child back down to sleep, she has been crying all day and is cranky at the moment. Please allow me a moment and then I will take up my role as a good host, Monsieur."

  "Take your time, you already fit the description of a good host," I responded.

  Edward's wife did provide me with tea and biscuits and the two of us conversed. She told me that Edward was at a funeral. It was not difficult for me to figure out whose funeral he was attending. She also told me that she was left to look after the twins with the aid of her servants. She had not left the house in several days because one of the children was sick, so only her servants would go out from time to time using their allocated backdoor to enter and exit the house. She did a lot of the talking in the conversation and although her husband was my enemy and I was going to kill him, I couldn't help but like this lady.

  "Please, call me Mary. I prefer to be addressed by my Christian name," Edward's wife said to me at one point throughout the conversation.

  Showing interest in the lady and the family, as a guest should do when speaking with their host, I got to learn some information about Edward and how he had spent the last three years of his life. Whereas
I was in captivity, he returned to England and received a lot of attention discovering the long lost treasure. When Edward was asked about how he was able to navigate the unfamiliar seas and find treasure that had been long lost, he said that he and his comrades had been able to achieve it because of the training they had received while in the navy. This statement was well-received by both the public and the government so his position in the navy was elevated. On top of his career progression, he also met Mary through a family connection, and marriage was soon arranged between the two of them.

  "Love probably came second to circumstance when Edward and I first were married, but like a good wife and a good husband, we have come to respect and love each other."

  "That is good," I responded.

  I made my apologies and excuses once I had been in the house for over an hour, I began to lay down reasons for why I had to leave. Sixty minutes of idle chat is enough for anyone to bear. I thanked Mary for her hospitality and said it was nice to meet her. She said that she was thankful that the letter from her dear friends was hand-delivered and that she enjoyed my company. She said she was lonely without Edward as she had to stay inside all day to tend to the children and only the wails of them crying kept her company, so she was thankful that a letter from a friend arrived and that I was there to keep her company for a part of the day.

  "Tuesday will come soon, but not soon enough for me I fear," she said as she led me to the door of her house.

  "It will come faster if you don't think about it," I stated.

  "All I have is time to think about it. Perhaps that is why time crawls for me."

  Just before Mary closed the door she sighed and bid me farewell and I said my goodbye to her. As I turned to walk down the pathway and out of the property she spoke again to me. She said that she enjoyed my company and that I was a good listener. She asked me if I found her a pleasant person to talk to, and I confirmed that I did enjoy her conversation. Then, she offered me tea and biscuits whenever I would like as she would always be in the house like a prisoner waiting for some company. She asked me to visit her again if I had the available time to do so and I told her I would.

  My duration in Liverpool soon spanned to a three-week stay. The Tuesday that Edward was expected to return home had come and gone and there were no signs of Edward. I continued to watch the house daily, but I did not catch a glimpse of the man and it was apparent that he had not yet returned from the funeral. I waited patiently, then forcibly, and then after three weeks, I lost all pretence of tolerance. I was within the grasp of getting revenge on Edward and the anticipation was becoming too much for me to bear. All the while I had avoided knocking on the door and making pleasantries with Mary as it would only make situations more complex.

  Each day I remained in the park along with the newspapers. As I became more desperate, I arrived at the park earlier in the morning and left it later at night. The stack of newspapers that I had collected, over the days and weeks of visiting the park, were my only sources of escape which allowed to me temporarily calm my anger and impatience. I read through each article of the newspapers on more than one occasion. The news was local and international and most of it was boring and mundane. There was however one article that appeared in several international newspapers that caught my attention.

  "Assassination attempt of the Zulu leader," I read the headline aloud.

  The article detailed how an attempt on the life of Shaka Zulu had been made. It said that poison was used to murder the leader of the Zulu's, but it had been unsuccessful. The article gave a short biography of Shaka Zulu and his importance concerning Britain and some stories surrounding his tribe. Much of the information I read was inaccurate and I deemed that whoever had written the article had never been to Shaka's kingdom. The article used words like 'warrior-king' and 'great leader' and tried to shroud him in a cloud of glory. However, I knew that he was a snarling and sadistic monster. I hated him and his people almost as much as I hated James, Edward, and Charles. The sound of his soldier's wailing out in pain while Shaka Zulu drove a spear through their foot for the punishment of losing their weapons while on the battlefield had never left memory. It was a sound of torture and pain. The screams the soldiers let out were similar to the sound that Charles made as he burned alive. I thought to myself that if I was ever given the opportunity, I would love to make Shaka Zulu suffer just as much as I had suffered under his reign and control.

  Finally, on a cold Thursday night, around midnight, just as I was about to quit the park and return to the hotel, a carriage approached Edward's house. To my astonishment and delight, Edward had finally returned to Liverpool. As the rain began drizzling down on the dark and cold night, Edward quickly ascended the steps outside of his house and thumped on the door loudly until it was opened. Then he passed through the entrance of the house and out of my sight. I was wet and cold, but I was content in the knowledge that my second victim was now within my reach.

  That night I could not sleep due to the sheer volume of excitement that was now rushing around my body. There had been plans created for Edward's demise, some were drawn out and lengthy whereas some were immediate and easy to execute. I had waited long enough for Edward to return to Liverpool and I craved revenge immediately. Therefore, I opted to reap my revenge as soon as the moon and the stars gave way to the sun.

  It was midday the next morning when I knocked on Edward's door. I rattled the door three times with a firm hand. I wore a clean suit, a hat and I had waxed my beard and moustache. I was fearless at the prospect of meeting Edward face-to-face, I had waited long enough. The door was opened by Mary who smiled with delight upon seeing me. She had enjoyed the afternoon of light conversation that we shared so much that she was hoping that a second encounter between us would occur.

  "Monsieur Levasseur, please do come in," Mary said as soon as she opened the door.

  I followed her instruction and she led me to the drawing-room of her house. She said that her husband was in the library of the house, seeing to business, but she would go and fetch her husband so that an introduction could be made. Mary was happy because her husband had returned home to her after a long absence.

  "You have no servants to do that? You must do all the laborious tasks in the house?"

  "We have two servants to help us, but they don't live with us and my husband gave them today off on account of the amount of additional work they had to do while my Edward was absent. So today I am left to watch over my children alone and ensure Edward's happiness."

  "That was very generous of him and very commendable on your part."

  "He is a generous man, I am sure you will find him as such," she responded.

  Mary left me alone in the room while she went to fetch her husband. She came back alone and said that he was just finishing writing a letter and he would arrive in a few moments. She then said that she would go and prepare a tray of biscuits and tea. I told her that such an array of snacks and beverages was not necessary, but she was adamant that she go and arrange the snacks as a good host would. As much as I had tried not to, I had liked Mary the first time I met her and my fondness for her did not diminish on this occasion either.

  With no-one in the room but myself, I quickly took Francis Farewell's pistol out of my trousers, where I had been concealing it. I took a seat on one of the sofas and hid the pistol under one of the fancy cushions that sat next to me. The pistol was loaded and I had taken it out of my travelling trunk and brought it to this house with the intent of using it.

  Mary returned to the room before her husband had appeared and I was sad that it was not the other way around. I would have much preferred to meet and talk with Edward first before Mary was present. She walked into the room and put the full tray of tea and snacks down on a table near the sofa and then she sat down on an armchair adjacent to me. She handed me a cup of tea and I thanked her. Our conversation resumed and I tried to act normal even though I had my loaded pistol waiting under one of the cushions. My heart was beating loud
and fast, but I managed to maintain a certain level of composure.

  "He is always so busy and so many people come to him for help. He is quite the Samaritan as he gives so much money and time to those people who need it most. He is the most generous man."

  Mary kept repeating the sentiment over and over again. She was adamant that her husband was a good man and that I needed to know that. I suspected that if I told Mary the truth about Edward and how he had tried to kill me, then she wouldn't have believed that he was capable of such a thing. Having said that, not many people are killers with an evil mentality, but Edward certainly was one of those people.

  "Ah, I can hear him coming now. I'm looking forward to introducing you to him," Mary said as the sound of footsteps approached the room.

  Edward entered the room and his eyes were immediately fixed on me. He had aged rather badly over the years since I had last seen him. His hair had mostly all fallen out and the small pieces that remained had all lost their strong brown colour and had been replaced by tinges of grey. In his left hand, he held on tightly to a cane which he used to help him walk. He looked at least twice his actual age. His face had many wrinkles on his forehead and around his sunken-in eyes, and he was ghostly pale. He looked at me as he walked into the room, but there was no reaction or any indication that he recognised me.

  "Hello, nice to meet you. I am Edward as I'm sure you probably already know," Edward said as he slowly moved towards me and extended his arm out for a handshake.

  I stood up out of my seat and out of reach of my pistol. I shook his hand firmly and told him that Mary had been telling me much about him, but other than that I did not know anything. Mary then told Edward how I had hand-delivered a letter to her on behalf of Mr. and Mrs. Cromwell. Edward was surprised at the news of the letter and enquired further about its contents and when it was written. Mary told him all the information he was seeking.