Vendetta: The Dorset Boy - Book 6

by Christopher C Tubbs

  Marty dressed and waited, after an hour his friend the messenger arrived with his breakfast.

  “What the hell is going on Bernard?” Marty asked.

  “Oh sir, terrible things happened in the night, the Minister was murdered in his own bed!” François confided in a quivering voice. “They say it must have been someone who was staying in the Embassy and they are tearing the place apart looking for clues.”

  “How did it happen?” Marty asked, naïve and wide eyed.

  “A knife through the heart, so they say. A very ornate knife it was the type the rich use to open letters.”

  “They were here!” Marty told him with a worried look. “Almost tore the room apart,” he said indicating the dishevelled bed.

  “Don’t worry you are in the clear,” François reassured him. “They found something in the Contessa’s room that they think is suspicious, they are questioning her now.”

  “She is an aristo, they cannot be trusted,” Marty snorted.

  “True but such a beauty!” François replied, “but now a bird in a gilded cage, she is under house arrest in her suite.”

  Marty also knew he was effectively under house arrest as they kept his door locked, but apart from that he was left alone. He was patient, waiting until dark before sending another message with his candle to the watcher across the street.

  He retrieved his weapons and tools from the gutter outside the window where he had hidden them after the alarm was raised. The lock on his door was easy to pick and he relocked it behind him as he crept down the stairs. The corridor on the second floor was dimly lit by candles that guttered and smoked as they needed their wicks trimming.

  The royal suite was unlocked and unoccupied but still had all the minister’s possessions in place. Marty quickly searched it and found an attaché case under the bed, which he took.

  He went back into the corridor and made his way along to the kitchen that separated the royal suite from the blue suite the Contessa was locked in. He checked for another exit and wasn’t disappointed when he found a set of stairs leading down to the back of the house. Satisfied he had an escape route he made his way through to the door which led into the corridor to the Contessa’s rooms.

  Marty put his ear to the door and listened. There was no sound from the other side, so he gently pressed down on the handle and pushed it open. The corridor was empty which surprised him as he expected there to be a guard.

  The lock of the Contessa’s door was no more a problem than the one to his room and he entered the suite which was dark apart from faint moonlight that came in through the un-shuttered window. The Contessa was asleep on the bed muttering in her sleep as she had a dream. Marty walked quietly up to the bed and sat on the edge.

  Marie woke with a start, sensing someone was in the room, as her eyes opened a hand gently covered her mouth and masculine voice said,

  “please do not cry out, I am here to help you. Do you understand?”

  It took a second to get over the surprise and then she nodded. The hand was removed but she got the impression it would return if the intruder needed to silence her. She could see he was a young man and wondered who he was.

  “They are going to send you to Paris to be tried for the murder of the minister, it is a forgone conclusion that you will be found guilty as the evidence is compelling,” he whispered. “The sentence will be death.”

  She tossed her head and said,

  “I have information to bargain for my life,” she replied with more confidence than she felt.

  “The plans for the British defence against invasion? Useless as Napoleon has abandoned his plans to invade after the disaster at Trafalgar,” he told her.

  “How did you know?” she started to ask.

  “You mentioned it to the minister. He told the security staff and I have a friend on that staff. They were laughing that you were trying to trade something that was worthless. Now you are going to be used as the scapegoat for the assassination of the minister,” he told her with a sad voice.

  “What can I do?” she asked.

  “I can help you escape the embassy and get to the coast where you can buy passage on a ship to a neutral country. You do have funds, don’t you?” he asked.

  “Yes, I have assets I can use to pay for a passage.”

  “Gather them and pack a bag quickly, then dress for travel, we must leave immediately.”

  She signalled him to move away. He rose and backed into the shadows. She quickly dressed behind a screen then threw clothes and her necessaries into a bag. Last, she collected her box of jewels and placed that in her bag as well.

  He led her out of the room into the kitchen, to a door at the back and down a staircase to the ground floor. At the bottom was another door that was locked. Her rescuer knelt at the lock and fiddled for a few seconds then stood and eased the door open. It led into the courtyard behind the embassy and he led her confidently across it to the gates.

  She was terrified, if they were discovered it would be the end and she didn’t want to die.

  Marty lifted the bar on the gate, eased it open and stuck his head through the gap. The first thing he saw was a guard who turned toward him and grinned.

  “Hello Matai,” he grinned in greeting.

  The two guards had been disposed of silently and bloodlessly by Matai and Ryan, timed so they would be on station around the time Marty had signalled with his candle. They had stripped them of their uniforms, hidden the bodies then taken their place at the gate. Now they quickly changed back to their regular clothes and returned to the hotel. The horses were already saddled, and a dog cart was harnessed. Linette was ready to drive it with her cloak’s hood covering her head. They bundled in the Contessa and left town by the road to Valencia. Once they reached the outskirts, they took a side road to the south towards Almeria.

  Everything had gone to plan so far and now they needed to get to the Bethany and out of Spain as fast as possible. The sun came up and they had travelled for three hours so they stopped to change horses.

  “Hello Marie,” Linette said as she dropped the hood.

  Marie froze then slowly turned to look at the figure beside her.

  “Louise?” she said surprise writ plain on her face.

  “Who else?” Linette replied.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Marie asked her voice rising in pitch and volume.

  “Stopping you from making a huge mistake as usual,” Linette snapped back.

  Realization hit Marie like a hammer,

  “You were behind the murder of the minister?” she shrieked.

  “No that was me,” Marty said from beside the cart where he had approached to find out what the noise was all about, “and if you two don’t keep it down I will bind and gag you both!”

  Marie turned around and now they were side by side, Marty could see they were almost identical. There was a gasp from Ryan as he saw them for the first time as well.

  “It’s time for an explanation I think,” he said giving Linette a hard look.

  She had the sense to look contrite and took a deep breath.

  “My real name is Contessa Louise Fortin, and this is my younger sister, Marie.”

  “You killed Robert? You fool! He was going to take me back to Paris with him,” Marie shrieked.

  “That is precisely what got him killed,” Marty said calmly. “I couldn’t take the risk that you had told him any details of the plans for the defence of London.”

  Marie’s hands flew to her mouth as the import of what Marty had said sunk in.

  “Who are you? Who are you all?”

  “That, my dear lady, is irrelevant, what is, is that you are now wanted for murder by the French state, and if we are captured, I will plead that you seduced me to help you escape.”

  Linette started to chuckle and when they all looked at her, she said,

  “this is one mess she can’t sleep her way out of

  Marty raised an eyebrow in question,

 
“You have Caroline, Ryan is mine and Matai is smitten with Tabetha.”

  At the look of surprise on Marty’s face she explained,

  “He hasn’t stopped talking about her the entire trip.”

  Marty looked over at the handsome Basque in surprise.

  “Well I never.”

  Marty took Marie’s bag from the dogcart and slung it from his saddle with the attaché case. Without the jewels and cash, she couldn’t go anywhere.

  “They really are sisters then,” Ryan said to Marty while they walked the horses to give them a break.

  “That would seem to be the case, yes,” Marty replied. “They chose quite different paths to survive the war.”

  Ryan was quiet for a few moments and then said,

  “I don’t know whether its right to condemn Marie for sleeping with men to survive.”

  Marty swivelled in the saddle and looked at his young compatriot in surprise.

  “She is neither the first nor last woman who has,” Marty replied.

  “It must be hard,” Ryan added, looking thoughtful.

  Marty cocked his head for him to continue.

  “Well men can fight, or start a business, or fall back on a trade. Women, especially aristocratic ones, are expected to be above all that so when it all goes wrong for them, they have little to fall back on. It is hardly just.”

  They rode on for a few more minutes and then Ryan sighed.

  “now do I call her, Linette or Louise?”

  Marty chuckled. “I am sure she will let you know.”

  They got back to Almeria and as soon as they rode onto the beach a boat was sent over to collect them. They untacked the horses and let them go, they would in all likelihood make their way back to the original owner.

  Marty locked the attaché case, jewels and cash in his arms chest. Linette insisted she and Marie shared a cabin so she could keep an eye on her.

  “As if I could swim ashore even if I wanted to!” Marie complained.

  Once they were out to sea and the Bethany was kicking up her heels and making a dozen or more knots, they all relaxed a little. Marty found himself on deck with Marie, who was dressed in one of Linette’s spare gowns.

  “Who are you?” she asked as he turned to greet her. “Louise won’t tell me anything and I feel I have seen you before.”

  Marty laughed. “You have at least twice to my knowledge. I was dressed in very different clothes the first time and wore a sash with my rank, the second time I was in the uniform of a Lieutenant of the Royal Navy. Both times I was accompanied by my wife, Caroline.”

  The penny dropped and Marie looked at him in amazement.

  “Lord Candor?”

  “Took you long enough,” he laughed.

  “Georgie talked about you, he was convinced you were a spy or something.”

  “Was he now? I wouldn’t spread that rumour if I were you,” Marty said seriously.

  “Don’t worry. I don’t expect I will get the chance once you get me back to England.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “Well, they will throw me in prison for stealing the necklace and running away with the secret plans.”

  Marty looked at her.

  “What?”

  She looked at him in surprise.

  “The plans?”

  Marty nodded.

  “I took a set of the plans.”

  Marty looked at the heavens and took a breath to steady himself. “And where are they now?”

  “I gave them to Robert.”

  Marty excused himself and went straight to his cabin. Once inside he found the attaché case he had taken from the minister’s room and, saying a short prayer, picked the lock.

  The papers he took out of the first compartment were just French government letters. The second was a small stack of large sheets of paper that had been carefully folded. He opened them and let out his breath in a whoosh!

  They were plans of a new mansion the minister was going to have built in Paris.

  The plans for the defences were not there.

  Chapter 5: Unfinished business

  “She had copies of the plans?” Linette screeched in disbelief.

  “Calm down! Yes, she did, and they were somewhere in the minister’s things, unless he gave them to the embassy staff for safe keeping,” Marty replied.

  “What do we do now?” Ryan asked.

  “As I see it there are two possibilities,” Marty concluded.

  “One, the plans are still at the Embassy and if they have them, they need to be recovered or destroyed. Two, the plans are still hidden amongst the minister’s things, which by now will be on their way back to Paris with his well pickled body and need to be recovered or destroyed.”

  Marty was alluding to the fact that the body of the deceased would be transported back to Paris in a keg of brandy to preserve it.

  “A good fire should eliminate the embassy,” Ryan said with a grin.

  “Yes. You and Matai need to get back to Madrid, torch the place and make sure that the head of security hasn’t got the plans at his home. It’s unlikely that anyone else would be trusted with them. If he gets damaged in the process so be it. Linette and I will go to Paris and find out where the minster lived and try and intercept his belongings.”

  Marty looked at them for acknowledgement and then turned to Tarrant. “Where can you put Matai and Ryan ashore?”

  “Malaga is probably the best place. We will be there in an hour or so.”

  “Right! Ryan go and find Matai and get your things together, take some of the new bombs and a couple of spare timers. Once you have completed the job make your way up to Bilbao and wait for us. The Bethany will pick you up in three weeks, which gives you enough time to get to Madrid, do the job and then get to Bilbao without killing any horses.”

  Ryan left and Marty looked at Linette. “Are you alright?”

  She sighed, sadly. “Yes, my sister brings out the worst in me,” she said, then took a deep breath and stiffened her back. “What is your plan for Paris?”

  “The good Captain will take us to Le Havre, and we will go to Paris in style,” he replied with a smile.

  “No more horse riding?” she asked hopefully. “My backside is a ruin already.”

  Marty laughed. “Your backside is as pert as ever and we will get a carriage,” he reassured her.

  She gave him a coy look. “If Caroline heard you say that you would be sleeping in separate rooms for a month.”

  “Just repeating what Ryan told me,” he laughed again. “I couldn’t possibly notice!”

  To say it was a flying stop at Malaga would almost be an understatement. Tarrant backed the foresails to bring her to a halt, a boat was launched, and Ryan and Matai put ashore. As soon as the boat returned, they were off again.

  The trip up to Le Havre was rough with contrary winds and big seas. They pulled into the harbour during a storm wearing an American flag. Marty and Linette walked down the gangplank to find Samuel waiting for them.

  “No, I am not stayin’ behind,” he said before Marty could utter a word. “I promise Tom I look after you and dat is what I am gonna do!” Marty looked over his shoulder and Antton, Franco, Garai and John Smith were stood waiting as well.

  Linette lent in and whispered in his ear. “You won’t stop them; you know they will just follow us.”

  Marty sighed, looked up to the sky, and shrugged. “Well, come on then. We will just need to hire a bigger carriage.”

  He did, however, detail Franco to stay aboard to keep an eye on Marie and to deliver a written report to Hood, but it was largely a gesture to regain a bit of authority as Tarrant was taking her straight back to London.

  Meanwhile, Ryan and Matai were entering Madrid. They were posing as a gentleman and his servant and stopped for the night at taverns or hotels. Once they entered the town, they made straight for the area where the Embassy was located and found a hotel that suited their cover story.

  A quick inspection of the out
side of the Embassy showed that security had been increased and the guards on the back gate doubled. They decided to tackle the head of security first.

  From their previous visit they had noted that he always left the Embassy at seven in the evening and it was a simple matter to wait for him and follow him to his home. The house was a modest townhouse a block from the Embassy with the front door right on the street.

  As he opened the door Matai hit him from behind shoving him through. Ryan followed closely, shutting the door behind them.

  Cedric Aubele didn’t know what hit him and Matai didn’t let him regain his equilibrium, dragging him to his feet and pushing him through a door into the sitting room.

  Ryan quickly searched the rest of the house for servants or family and found nothing except a pot of stew simmering on the stove. It smelled good! When he arrived back in the sitting room Matai had Aubele tied up and gagged and was closing the curtains.

  Ryan had learnt from Marty that the most intimidating things can be the most mundane, and he carried two bowls of stew and a stick of bread into the room and put them on the table. He invited Matai to sit and eat.

  Matai looked over at Aubele, who was hogtied in the most uncomfortable way imaginable.

  “Excellent stew! You must give your cook my compliments.” He said in French. They had agreed it would be better for Matai to lead the interrogation as Ryan’s French was rudimentary.

  They finished their meal and wiped their mouths.

  “Now let’s talk about the murder of the Minister,” Matai opened in a friendly way and signalled Ryan to remove the gag.

  “Who are you?” Aubele asked.

  “You don’t need to know that,” Matai answered. “Why did you murder the Minister?”

  “I didn’t kill him! It was that bitch of a Contessa!” Aubele winced as the ropes bit in as he tried to move.

  “That’s what you want us to think. You killed him and framed her.”

  “I didn’t! I was trying to help them both!”

  “Liar! You wanted her for yourself and killed him to get him out of the way!”