Chinese Whispers

by Andrew Wareham

  The doctor nodded but did not hurry his thorough approach to moving the wounded onto stretchers and into the pulling boats.

  “Mr Lockhart. I want maximum practical speed to meet the gunrunner and then something like nine or ten knots in company with her to the Philippines. What can you give me?”

  “My Chief ERA is aboard the gunrunner, sir, with a party from the engine room. I would not wish to press too hard in their absence. Fourteen knots to the rendezvous, sir. Ten knots after that will be no trouble.”

  “Inform me if you feel you should reduce speed, Mr Lockhart, but I wish to be in company with our people as quickly as is possible. I’ll be happier with her safe under our guns, just in case.”

  That meant nothing to Lockhart, and little to Magnus as he could not imagine what could happen, except perhaps for Sod’s Law – ‘anything that can go wrong will, and probably already has’.

  Lieutenant Coulthorne was hard pressed not to chortle in delight as Obelisk closed on the prize ship within two miles and twenty minutes of the time he had predicted.

  “Good navigation, Mr Coulthorne. You are most reliable, sir.”

  “Thank you, sir. I must imagine that Mr Knuyper kept her precisely to the course we calculated.”

  “Well done. You are training him well. An important part of your duties and one that will be noted on your personal file. Close within hailing distance.”

  “All well, Mr Knowles?”

  “Two of the prisoners died of their wounds, sir. Buried all at sea, sir, this morning. The holds, sir, are about half full with a cargo that seems to be rifles and ammunition. We have only opened a few cases, sir.”

  Magnus had not realised just how tense he was. Had the cargo been innocuous, he would have had a lot of explaining to do. The number of dead men would not have been easily accounted for if the ship had been innocent. It was always possible to argue that carrying a pair of machine guns in pirate waters was legitimate self-defence.

  “Any Papers? Bills of lading or consignment notes or their like?”

  “Not a thing, sir. Not even a ship’s log. Every man aboard illiterate, or so it would seem.”

  That was even better. The absence of basic documents was a breach of the laws of every country.

  “Have you interrogated the prisoners?”

  “Tried to, sir. ‘No spika da Engleesh’, every one of them.”

  “Up to them. Mention Queen’s Evidence to them – they might understand enough to have heard of that. Tell them they will hang if they remain silent.”

  “Do the Americans still hang pirates, sir? I thought they had this electric chair now.”

  “Good question. Tell them they’ll fry, then.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  “How do you stand for rations?”

  “Well, sir. The ship has a cold room, sir. One of these big refrigerator things. Sides of beef, sir, and vegetables. Better than we have aboard, sir.”

  Magnus shook his head – the Americans pampered their sailors, it seemed. Bully beef was good enough at sea…

  “Send over some steaks and fresh veg, if you have some spare, Mr Knowles. Don’t waste them on the prisoners. Biscuit and water will do for them – they ain’t going to live long enough to get scurvy.”

  There was a destroyer patrolling off Manila Bay, acting as guardship. Obelisk approached under the White Ensign and with a flag hoist requesting permission to enter the American port. A light signal requested the American to come within hail.

  Magnus watched with some appreciation as the destroyer increased speed to nearly thirty knots in a matter of minutes and approached in a flamboyant curve, all four funnels churning out black smoke. She came alongside at twenty yards distant, far too close for any except a very confident young captain.

  “Her Majesty’s protected cruiser, Obelisk, Captain Lord Eskdale. In company with a gunrunner taken off the Chinese coast. She seems to be American and possibly intending to land part of her cargo in China and the remainder in the Philippines. We thought it better to bring her in to American jurisdiction rather than try your citizens as pirates, sir.”

  “Destroyer John Bailey, sir. Please to heave to, sir, while I take orders from my admiral.”

  Two more destroyers appeared within the hour, both at unnecessary but flamboyant full speed, and took station alongside the gunrunner.

  “Sir, please to bring her in to the harbour, following John Bailey. Admiral’s thanks for your courtesy, sir.”

  Two more hours saw Obelisk and the prize tied underneath the guns of a huge first class battleship, glittering white and overshadowing the pair. A party of at least fifty ratings trotted aboard the prize and removed the prisoners, very noisily in a roar of orders. A pair of formally-uniformed officers came aboard Obelisk and requested the pleasure of Magnus’ company aboard the flagship, Oregon.

  “Big guns, sir?”

  “Thirteen inch rifles, sir.”

  Most British battleships had twelve inch guns.

  “Admiral Malone, sir. Captain Lord Eskdale of the protected cruiser Obelisk, sir.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, Captain. What’s the freighter, sir? Are those machine guns I see in her well decks?”

  “A pair of Maxims, sir. hidden in collapsible deckhouses. Killed some of my men before the three pounders hit them.”

  “That provides evidence enough of piracy in itself, Captain. What is her cargo?”

  “We have not examined all of it, Admiral. We have discovered Remington repeating rifles and what seems to be literally millions of rounds of ammunition. Military quantities. There are other boxes and cases, sir, which we left to be examined on shore, and by independent investigators. The master was American – or so I judged by his accent – and the ship claims registry out of San Francisco. As I recall, Admiral, the War of 1812 was in part caused by the Royal Navy claiming jurisdiction over American seamen. I did not wish to repeat that particular error and brought her into you.”

  “You say the master ‘was’ American, sir?”

  “He lifted a shotgun to a midshipman who ordered him to surrender. The boy put five revolver bullets into him.”

  “Good lad! Papers?”

  “Nothing, Admiral. Not so much as a log. The only printed items on the ship are a few decks of playing cards.”

  “Then we must believe her name and registry as painted on her stern, Captain. Those say she is American. Will you be able to remain for a couple of days, sir? No doubt you will wish to coal and take stores aboard. Courtesy of the US Navy, sir.”

  Magnus was able to acquiesce, though he knew he would have some explaining to do in Hong Kong when he was found to have more coal aboard than he logically should. The Navy did not approve of the unauthorised acquisition of coal or other stores.

  Magnus and Lieutenant Knowles dined aboard Oregon that night, both puzzled to find themselves drinking water.

  “Our ships are dry, sir.”

  “My word, Admiral! I think the Navy might go into mutiny was that inflicted upon us. You must dine with us tomorrow, sir. I cannot offer you food to match yours – I have rarely eaten so well aboard ship - but we do have a respectable cellar, sir.”

  The Admiral showed signs of a headache two mornings later when he begged the pleasure of Magnus’ company.

  “I have a full inventory, Lord Eskdale, of the cargo aboard the gunrunner.”

  Magnus noted that the Admiral had been told the correct form of address to him and that he now specifically referred to the prize as a criminal.

  “What have you discovered, sir?”

  “The Remington repeating rifles and ammunition you mentioned. Winchester carbines and ammunition. Rifle calibre Maxim guns, eight of them, and more ammunition. Additionally, a consignment of Colt’s revolvers, forty-fives and thirty-eights. The Army thinks the revolvers are fakes – copies made in Belgium, they say. The rifles and carbines may be as well. In that case, it seems that the gunrunners were cheating their buyers – supplying them with cheaper
copies and no doubt charging the full price.”

  That somehow seemed typical to Magnus – the wicked villains had no honour at all, would steal from their own with no scruple.

  “The Army provided us with a prison onshore and have taken over the investigation, having a larger Provost department than we have here. They have persuaded the prisoners to talk; I did not ask how. I doubt I wish to know, Lord Eskdale.”

  Magnus shook his head. While the word ‘torture’ was not spoken then they could claim ignorance, but it left a bad taste in his mouth. Not so bad a taste as seeing his countrymen shot by smuggled rifles, he must suppose.

  “What did they say, Admiral?”

  “They are Americans and sailed from Hawaii within the month. One of them transpired to be second mate, despite his colour, and admitted to having landed a cargo in the Philippines earlier this year. They have given names of their contacts in Hawaii and in San Francisco. That information will be sent off as quickly as possible. My reports to the Navy Department will name you for your good work, my lord, and will request that our thanks be sent to your Admiralty for your great courtesy in bringing them here. The Army proposes that we should bring the prisoners to a court rather quickly and see them hanged as pirates and traitors under the provisions of martial law in the fighting zone here. I presume they do not want a defence lawyer to bring in a doctor. I have raised no objection.”

  “Nor shall I, sir. Will I be required to testify before your court, sir?”

  “No. Your written report suffices. They are to be tried this afternoon and will hang before nightfall, by the way.”

  “Short and sweet, Admiral. I should sail for Hong Kong at soonest, sir. Tomorrow, when I can inform my people that the business is neatly and tidily wrapped up?”

  “Very good, my lord. I must hope to bump into you again, sir, some day.”

  “Soon, perhaps, sir. What plans have you in mind in the case of a major insurrection in China? It seems not unlikely that there will be a need to rescue our citizens, sir. I have already taken part in a minor expedition to pull some missionaries out of trouble inland, and there may well be more.”

  “We have as much as we can handle here in the Philippines, my lord. I do not know what Washington has planned, but we can do very little with our existing forces.”

  “Perhaps a word to your Intelligence people, sir? The information that has come our way is quite specific for the middle of this year.”

  Magnus called the crew to divisions that evening, immediately before sundown. He stood on the after bridge, where he could be seen and heard by most.

  “I shall keep it short, men. First to offer my thanks and express my satisfaction at your behaviour in this business. A tidy job and done well. The Americans are pleased as well. The pirates have been tried this afternoon and are hanging now.”

  There was a mutter of satisfaction at that – the gunrunners had killed some of their mates; ‘the bastards deserved to die’ was the universal opinion on the lower deck, and in the wardroom.

  “Obelisk will return to Hong Kong to report to the Admiral. After that, I do not know. We sail in the forenoon.”

  Magnus stepped back having said all that was necessary. He swore as his leg hurt him as he turned. The dog bite was healing only slowly.

  He returned to his cabin and the reports on his desk, written and repeatedly altered and amended. He had obeyed his orders, when considered in the grand scheme of things, but Admiral Seymour might well feel that he had been somewhat loose in his interpretation of them and Captain Jellicoe, who tended towards inflexibility, would be less than wholly pleased at his approach to the whole matter.

  It was necessary to make it clear that the pressures of time meant that he could not seek the Admiral’s permission to patrol off Port Arthur – which the Russians might already have objected to, if they had noticed. As for taking the ship into Manila Bay – well, he had no orders to take her elsewhere and was free to exercise his discretion there. The assumption must have been that he would bring her back to Hong Kong, but he was no mind-reader, he could not be expected to know what the Admiral thought might happen. Jellicoe was sufficiently alert that he would see the wisdom of getting an American ship off their hands quietly. Particularly, both senior officers would recognise the wisdom of making no mention of Tsingtao and of taking control of the gunrunner well clear of her destination; they would not wish to offer a provocation to the Germans.

  Provided the report was written in such a way that the Admiralty – who would eventually read it – could find no hint of insubordination, then he was safe. The suggestion that he had chosen to disobey his orders, for any cause, however sensible, would cancel out all of the good work he had recently done to rehabilitate himself in their eyes.

  An hour of anxious editing and he had a document that met his needs but was covered in crossings out and additions. He could not face writing the whole thing out again, and suspected that if he did then he would start to make new corrections.

  “Paymaster to me, Carter.”

  Mr Geddes was present in two minutes, as he should have been.

  “Have you a Writer who has a good, clear hand and can be trusted to keep his mouth shut, even after he has had a drink or two, Mr Geddes?”

  “Yes, sir. Hathaway is wholly reliable and is teetotal sir. Some sort of Methodist, sir, or Sally Ann or that sort. He writes up all of the confidential reports for me, sir, and copies up the Letter Book. He was taught in a little country school, he tells me, an old-fashioned copperplate, like solicitors use.”

  “Good. My report to the Admiral is an untidy mess, and my handwriting ain’t that wonderful in any case. Get him to write it out for me, if you would be so good.”

  Geddes ostentatiously folded the sheets so that he himself could not see what was in them and left the cabin.

  Magnus wondered if he should have commented on the gunrunner, and the prize money lost by sending her in at Manila Bay. He could think of no tactful way of so doing, and officers should not be interested in mere lucre – it was an occasional unexpected bonus, no more. Geddes must put up with it, as must every other of the ship’s crew. Bad luck for the poor chap, however – his brother and father would have been much pleased by a few more pounds coming in.

  “Thought you would make your number last week, Eskdale.”

  Captain Jellicoe showed mildly surprised, assumed the gunrunner had been delayed somehow, was surprised not to see her in company with Obelisk.

  “Caught her, did you? Had to sink her?”

  “Found her south of Port Arthur, sir, and took her to the Americans in the Philippines rather than risk being seen with her in the vicinity of Tsingtao, sir. I was given information, sir, that there was an escort waiting to take her in and wanted no confrontation with a German squadron. Barfleur was in Wei-Hai-Wei, I know, sir, and I could have sent the steam picket boat to call for her aid, but…”

  “But that could so easily have led to war, Eskdale. Wise of you not to take that risk – to be the man who started a war might not be a distinction I would seek!”

  “Nor me, sir. In the circumstances, sir, I thought we would not wish an American gunrunner working with the Germans to be brought into Hong Kong. I made the presumption that Admiral Seymour would much prefer her to be an American problem. Dirty business as well – better to keep our hands clean. Not the best of ideas for the Chinese to know that we were hanging white men, sir.”

  “Might not want too many of the sahibs to know that, Eskdale! You’re right there. What was she carrying?”

  “I have a detailed manifest made up by the Americans, sir, with exact numbers. Rifles, carbines and millions of rounds, as Captain Hawkins said. Maxim guns as well. In addition, some hundreds of fake Colt revolvers – apparently, they make them in Belgium, cheap and nasty imitations.”

  “Didn’t know that, Eskdale. I’ll take you into the Admiral. He’ll probably want Hawkins present as well. Did you take any casualties?”

  “To
o many, sir. I lost young Hartley – machine gun bullets to the chest when boarding.”

  “All in the front, Eskdale?”

  “Yes, sir. No worry that way. He dropped at my side, acting as my doggie.”

  “Then it is unfortunate, most sad, but ours is a hard service, Eskdale and men die in it. I see you are limping. Did they hit you as well?”

  “No, sir, there was a dog, sir…”

  Jellicoe began to chuckle.

  Chapter Eleven

  The Earl’s Other Son Series

  Chinese Whispers

  “Coastal patrolling to the south for fourteen days, Eskdale. Leave you with a quarter of your bunkers full when you come back in – gives you a safety margin, that way. I don’t approve of the habit of leaving a ship with no more than a day’s coal in hand at the end of a patrol. Might be necessary in wartime; certainly is not otherwise.”

  Magnus agreed. There was always the chance of a storm driving a ship offshore and leaving it out of coal. He had heard – every officer had – of unlucky ships crawling back into harbour having chopped down the masts and stripped out every piece of woodwork, including the wardroom furniture, to feed the boilers. Other ships had faced the humiliation of making port in foreign places and having to beg coal of them, writing out letters of credit to be sent to the Admiralty to pay. Not good for a captain’s career, embarrassing the Admiralty, however little it was his fault.

  “Yes, sir. Obelisk is high for coal at the moment, requires no more than one hundred tons to replenish, sir.”

  “Very good, Eskdale… Wait a minute! How does that come about? With the miles you have travelled, you should be down to dust in the bunkers!”

  Admiral Seymour could count, it would seem. A pity. Magnus had hoped that he would find the arithmetic beyond him.

  “The Americans, sir. Very generous. Steaks for the crew, coal for Obelisk – all free of charge. Difficult to refuse without giving offence, sir.”