‘A crime has been committed and if it does not say so in Lord Hood’s letter it must be implied.’
‘No,’ said Pitt softly, shaking his head.
‘May I see?’ asked Pearce, holding out his hand.
‘Most certainly not, you might gossip.’
‘I hope you know me well enough to be sure I would say nothing.’
‘Mr Pearce,’ Pitt guffawed, ‘I hardly know you at all.’
‘While I know very well how much dispute there is in the command you mention. It is common talk throughout the fleet.’
‘Then let it stay there.’
‘I am sure if you saw the papers from that travesty of a court martial you would change your mind.’
‘But I do not have them and I am unlikely ever to see them,’ Pitt insisted.
‘Why not, they are official documents?’
‘They will go to the Admiralty and be buried there,’ Dundas added.
‘You are the king’s first minister, you can demand to see them.’
‘But why would I want to?’ Pitt asked, his voice low.
‘For the sake of justice!’ Pearce replied in a near bellow, which only got him a smile to tell him he could look for no assistance in this room. ‘A case can still be brought.’
‘How?’ Dundas replied, finally rising from his chair. ‘You have no written evidence and the witnesses you require to call are a thousand miles away. You would require a judge to insist they be brought back to England, which would only happen after you had forced the sailors, by legal writ, to give up the transcript of the court martial, and it would have to be established as questionable. The Admiralty will make mincemeat of you, laddie, so I hope you have a deep purse for your legal bills and a few years spare to pursue your hopeless case.’
Pearce had a vision then of the papers he needed falling apart as seawater destroyed them. There was nothing he could do: Ralph Barclay would escape the justice he deserved.
‘I will not let this go, Mr Pitt.’
‘But I, on the other hand, will let you go,’ Pitt snapped. ‘Our business is over.’
‘Pearce,’ Dundas said, ‘wait outside.’
‘What?’ was the reply, from a supplicant clearly confused by the request.
‘It is the same as Portland sent us?’ asked Dundas, reaching for Hood’s letter, which Pitt handed to him.
‘Precisely, and it will cost Hood his command. Portland will insist on it.’
‘By damn I would like to know how that Whig swine got his hands on it.’
‘It matters not, Harry, he will have Hotham elevated because of what he knows.’ Pitt sighed. ‘With this brought by Pearce’s hand its existence and the contents could be denied. Now if I reject the truth of it, given he has a fair copy, I risk losing his support.’
‘I don’t doubt Hood is telling the truth,’ Dundas said. ‘Not that it aids us much.’
‘Why did you ask Pearce to wait?’
That got Pitt a look of disbelief. ‘For a party manager, Billy, you’re a sad case. Pearce is a weapon we would be foolish to just dismiss.’
‘You’re not suggesting we aid him?’
‘We could use him.’
‘Don’t speak,’ Pitt demanded, ‘let me work out your thinking.’
‘Thank the lord for that,’ Dundas replied, sitting again and filling his glass with claret. ‘All that arguing the toss with Pearce has given me a deep thirst, but I would say just one thing, and it hurts me to do so given that young man’s parentage. I think he is speaking the truth. Oh, and another, he is not as clever as he thinks he is.’
William Pitt paced up and down the long room for several minutes, his head bent, occasionally stopping by his claret to take a sip from the glass. Without stopping he looked up and began to speak.
‘Portland will demand Hood’s head, which we must give him, but a hint at certain irregularities will need to be established before we can agree to elevate Hotham.’ The nod and satisfied quaff from Dundas was enough of an agreement. ‘Portland will ask what they are but we must say they are so unproven as to require the recall of Hood on, say, the grounds of ill health.’
‘That I had not thought of, but I agree.’
‘The duke is bound to make enquiries of his own and if he has any sense he will smoke what it is we are after and try to ensure we do not find out the truth, but if you are right about Pearce we already have it and the evidence will be in those court martial papers.’
‘Your father would be proud of you, Billy.’
‘Meanwhile we ensure Portland finds out the truth. To protect himself he is bound to cover up for Hotham…’
‘Which leaves him exposed in the future and, perhaps, as a political ally, more malleable. The facts, passed on to Fox, would bring him low given he sets himself up as such a paragon.’
‘The Admiralty will lose the transcript.’
‘They cannot kill the witnesses.’
‘The French might.’
‘Not all of them, Billy, and we have the power to insist they be brought back to England for an enquiry.’
‘It would not destroy Portland.’
‘We do not need to destroy him,’ Dundas insisted. ‘In fact if we did that we would harm ourselves. What we need to do is make him cautious.’
‘Pearce?’
‘We need to get Hood to agree to take leave on the grounds of ill health. He comes home and after a decent interval retires from active service. He is, after all, in his seventies.’
‘And you think Pearce should return to the Mediterranean with that message.’
‘If he will agree, which I doubt.’
‘So much for your plan, Harry.’
‘Unless you offer him your backing in the matter of the case for perjury.’ Seeing Pitt look surprised Dundas added, ‘Dammit, Billy, you don’t have to mean it.’
Pitt nodded slowly, having lost any fear of spouting untruths the minute he took up politics. He went to the door himself and called Pearce back in, aware, as he did so, that he was the object of deep suspicion. Dundas spoke before he could.
‘I don’t warm to you, laddie—’
‘Stop calling me laddie!’
‘And I doubt many do, but old Hood seems to have done so, and we require you to aid him in return.’ Dundas held up the letter. ‘You see, boy, we had already read this letter before you ever came through that door.’
‘How in the name of—?’
‘You’re not, I hope, with an atheist for a father, going to invoke God. It was copied, and that must have been when it was in your possession.’
Stunned, John Pearce could not reply, and it was obvious from his expression he was wondering when, even if he was less doubtful about the whom.
‘It was then shown to the Duke of Portland,’ Pitt continued, ‘and he, knowing it would embarrass us, passed it on. The trouble is, with all these complaints about Hotham out in the open, and the Duke of Portland knowing we are dependent on his support, Lord Hood is vulnerable and he needs to be told that is the case, but with discretion.’
‘You’re not asking me to act as your messenger again?’
‘There you go, Billy,’ Dundas cried, slapping the table hard. ‘I told you he would smoke your wiles.’
‘Naturally, we would not expect you to do this without reward,’ Pitt said, looking piqued.
‘The case against Barclay!’ Pitt nodded and that air of being found out changed to a smile. ‘What has changed in the last fifteen minutes? You were sure it was impossible then.’
‘No, Lieutenant Pearce,’ Pitt replied, using his rank for the first time, which did not go unnoticed by the recipient. ‘I told you I was not prepared to pursue it, but it has become plain to me I need your services once more and I am not fool enough to seek them without payment.’
‘I think we should be honest with you, Pearce,’ Dundas lied, ‘it will not be easy. We must proceed with care, for the slightest hint of our aim will bring about the very situation we are seekin
g to avoid and block for ever any hope you have of redress.’
‘But with a fair wind and us at your back,’ Pitt hinted.
A hoot came from Dundas. ‘Damn me, Billy, a nautical simile.’
Throughout the conversation John Pearce’s mind had been racing: he did not trust these two one little bit – they might be truthful in what they were saying or they might not – but with that set of papers at the bottom of the sea the answer to his problem did not lie here in London, it lay back out there in the Mediterranean. There was also the knowledge, which he had been gnawing at for some time, of his own lack of prospects, as well as that of his companions. While he could not decide for them, he could for himself and aid them in the process.
‘I agree, with conditions.’ Pearce enjoyed the way the two politicians reacted, as though they had just discovered someone had stolen their watch. ‘I require two warrants for arrest squashed and three protections from impressments guaranteed by you.’
‘The Admiralty issues those,’ Dundas protested.
‘They will grant them quickly on your demand. I also wish to choose the vessel on which I travel.’
‘You pose a stiff price.’
‘Take it or leave it.’
Pitt was walking again, head down in a brown study and moving from side to side.
‘Billy,’ Dundas said, only to be silenced by a raised hand.
‘I agree,’ Pitt said eventually. ‘Leave the details, the names and crimes, with my clerk and call upon me tomorrow, and let us hope, Mr Pearce, that what we are about works out for the best.’
John Pearce nodded and left, leaving the two politicians looking at each other for several seconds until they were sure the sound of footsteps had faded. Then they burst out laughing, Dundas filling their glasses with yet more claret, both then raised in a silent toast.
‘That was easier than I thought,’ said Dundas. ‘We should get hold of Sheridan and ask to appear at Drury Lane.’
Eventually, having taken a deep drink, William Pitt replied, ‘If only our political opponents were as biddable as Lieutenant John Pearce, life would be so much easier.’
About the Author
DAVID DONACHIE was born in Edinburgh in 1944. He has always had an abiding interest in the naval history of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries as well as the Roman Republic, and, under the pen-name of Jack Ludlow, has published a number of historical adventure novels. David lives in Deal with his partner, the novelist Sarah Grazebrook.
By David Donachie
THE JOHN PEARCE SERIES
By the Mast Divided
A Shot Rolling Ship
An Awkward Commission
A Flag of Truce
The Admirals’ Game
An Ill Wind
Blown Off Course
Enemies at Every Turn
A Sea of Troubles
Written as Jack Ludlow
THE REPUBLIC SERIES
The Pillars of Rome
The Sword of Revenge
The Gods of War
THE CONQUEST SERIES
Mercenaries
Warriors
Conquest
THE ROADS TO WAR SERIES
The Burning Sky
A Broken Land
A Bitter Field
THE CRUSADES SERIES
Son of Blood
Soldier of Crusade
‘A salty blend of seafaring adventure and whodunit’
Literary Review
‘A must for armchair mariners … superb stuff’
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Copyright
Allison & Busby Limited
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First published in Great Britain by Allison & Busby in 2009.
This ebook edition published by Allison & Busby in 2013.
Copyright © 2009 by DAVID DONACHIE
The moral right of the author is hereby asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All characters and events in this publication other than those clearly in the public domain are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent buyer.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 978–0–7490–1314–1
An Ill Wind Page 25
