Mersey Dark

by Michael Whitehead

  The warning was unnecessary to the fishermen who were facing the stern and all had eyes on the Clipper. The older of the four shouted an order to his boat-mates that must have been in an arcane dialect because Tanner understood not one word.

  They subtly changed direction, heading not for the side of the ship, as they had been, but toward the shadow of the stern. It would mean that their passengers would not be able to climb aboard the vanguard but they would also be safe from the clipper, as it would not be able to come so close without fear of a collision with a much bigger, stronger ship.

  It was a race of wind against muscle, and Tanner found himself holding his breath as he watched the Clipper bearing down on their boat. He thought about doubling Templeton’s offer of five pounds a man, knowing beyond doubt that his friend could afford it, but also knowing that money was no better motivator than the fear of death, he held himself in check.

  All four men were pulling as hard as they could, veins and sinews standing out on their necks. As the clipper bore down on them, Tanner clearly saw Davidson leaning out over the rail, looking down at them.

  The hull of the clipper was within thirty feet of the boat when it finally changed course. It was still a few hundred feet from the vanguard, which Tanner could now see was called the HMS Collingwood, but they had obviously decided that they were close to the point of no return and had to avoid hitting the bigger ship.

  Tanner had no doubt that the attempted attack had been on the orders of Davidson, a sea man would have realised that they had left themselves open to what happened next.

  The clipper was far too close to manoeuvre far from the starboard gun ports of the Collingwood. They had left its sails exposed to a volley of chain shot. The split balls, linked by a length of chain, caused devastation in the rigging of the smaller, faster ship. Tanner watched as first the main sail, then two sheets on the foremast sagged and leaned as the tension was ripped from their ropes.

  Men aboard the clipper ran back and forth, attempting to rescue a hopeless situation. The cross member of one of the foremast sails fell to the deck, and even from a hundred feet away the men on the row boat were plainly heard screaming.

  “Pull lads, we need to get off the water,” the elder fisherman said to his mates. They turned the boat and headed to the port-side of the Collingwood, safe from the battle that was living its short but violent life to starboard.

  Tanner lost sight of the Clipper as they passed under the shadow of the naval ship, coming in close so that they could climb aboard. As they came within the last few feet the face of a boy, who was no more than fourteen or fifteen years old, appeared at the rail above them.

  “Permission to come aboard,” Templeton shouted up to the young man.

  “Captain Roberts sends his thanks. He requests you report to him as soon as you are on deck,” the sailor answered. A team of seamen appeared next to the young man, an officer by his appearance, and threw two narrow rope ladders down toward them.

  Tanner felt his stomach give another lurch as the ship swayed toward and then away from them, the small row boat no more than a cork in the water. He watched as two of the fishermen climbed the ladders with little outward sign of difficulty, then their two boat mates held the bottom of the ladders, in order that he and Templeton could make the climb.

  The ladder felt like it was attached at neither the top or the bottom as he took the first few rungs. He swung wildly, barely daring to move one foot above another, again feeling his stomach protest with the motion. It was the thought of vomiting on the men below him and embarrassing himself more than he already had that got him moving upward.

  Finally at the top, he wasn’t surprised to find that it was Templeton who offered him a hand over the rail. Despite being at least ten years older than Tanner, he seemed in better shape in just about every way. He had certainly made light work of the ladder.

  As Tanner gained his feet, feeling a little better for having solid wood beneath them, he felt the Collingwood give a lurch to one side. He turned to see that the crew were throwing out grappling hooks, attached to long lengths of rope, to land on the deck and in the fallen rigging of the clipper.

  The two ships were being pulled slowly toward each other, causing both to lean inwards as they moved. Tanner stood well back, letting the trained and experienced men do their job.

  Templeton approached him with a man who was obviously the captain. He looked to be about fifty years old, and had cropped salt and pepper hair, his hat was currently tucked under one arm.

  “Detective Tanner? I’m Captain Henry Roberts, this fine girl is the Collingwood,” he said, motioning about him at the ship and his crew. “I believe there is a man aboard that clipper who you hold responsible for the trouble in Liverpool?”

  Tanner nodded, “His name is Davidson, he’s wanted for multiple murders, and is the instigator of everything you see behind me. I just thank the lucky stars that you were here to stop him.”

  “The lucky stars and the admiralty,” Captain Roberts said with a smile. “I was docked in Liverpool picking up supplies. I was ordered to stop any ships leaving or entering the Mersey. The authorities like to know who is coming and going at the best of times, and these are not the best of times. Who knows who is likely to take advantage of such a tumult. Smugglers, ship thieves, and any number of miscreants. We would have stopped the clipper no matter what, but I’m glad to see our effort will be rewarded by taking this man in to custody.”

  Tanner looked over at the clipper, it was inching closer by the moment, “A word about the man in question,” he said. “He is...how can I put it...?”

  “Dangerous,” Templeton said, stepping into the conversation. “He has demonstrated the use of explosives and should be treated with extreme caution.”

  Roberts laughed, “My dear man, we are the British navy, we will not be cowed by a little danger. When we board, we will take every man we can, your suspect among them.”

  “Never the less, do you have men with firearms aboard?” Templeton asked.

  “We have a contingent of fifteen marines, less than some ships but they are good at their jobs.” He motioned above his head and sure enough, Tanner could see men in the rigging, armed with muskets.

  The gap between the ships closed so that Tanner could begin to see details of the men aboard the clipper. Their faces were stern and determined, if this was a crew who knew nothing of Davidson’s plans then they had been well paid. They brandished swords and other weapons, among them at least a couple of bill hooks and more than one marlin spike. This was not a group of men ready to give up easily.

  “Captain, have you heard any of the rumours ascertaining to certain creatures in Liverpool of late?” Templeton asked, his voice casual but the question loaded.

  “A few of my men came aboard with ludicrous stories of six foot rats and the like, sir. I myself have little time for superstition and make-believe.” Captain Roberts replied a sneer crossing his face.

  “I would urge you to take the tale seriously, Captain,” Tanner said, but could already see his words were falling on deaf ears.

  A sporadic round of gun fire sounded behind Tanner, he spun to see plumes of smoke dispersing from a few places on board the clipper. The distance was too far for the shots to have been much danger to the crew of the Collingwood but Tanner wondered how many of the smaller ship’s crew had fire-arms.

  The rails were ten feet apart when the first flash-bang landed on the deck of the vanguard. A group of navy men were standing ready for the order to board, when the explosion went off among them.

  The effect was devastating, two men fell to the deck holding their faces. A third was thrown off his feet, landing twisted against the base of the mast. A forth was flipped over the side rail – he dropped to the water below as the two ships came together. He was lost from Tanners sight but must have been crushed between the two hulls.

  Tanner scanned the deck and rigging, trying to spot Davidson but he was nowhere to be seen. Gunfire st
arted above his head as the marines provided cover for the first of the navy men to cross the gap between the two ships. Three men on the far side of the rail dropped to the deck, but Tanner was unable to see if they were dead, wounded, or merely hiding.

  The men who crossed onto the clipper did so with a shout. They brandished their swords, defying the fear they must have been feeling. Captain Roberts shouted orders, pointing fore and aft to places where men might make the passage safely.

  More gun fire cracked the air from both sides, and men fell bloody to the deck. Templeton stood and watched the carnage, seemingly impassive, but his eyes were aware, scanning the fight and taking in every detail.

  “He’s in the captain’s cabin,” he said after a moment. Tanner turned to look at the raised portion of the Clippers deck but it was barely visible among the smoke and fighting men.

  “What makes you say that? Another of your gifts?” he asked. He had so far done his best to accept Templeton’s abilities in his stride, without mention, but he finally felt the need to address them.

  “Not at all, detective,” the older man said with a wry smile. “I’m simply watching the way his men seem to be defending that door.”

  “One day, you can tell me how you do what you do,” Tanner said, drawing his sabre from its scabbard.

  “One day, I might,” Templeton replied while unscrewing the top off his walking stick and withdrawing the blade concealed within. “Shall we?” he asked with a nod of his head.

  Tanner felt his heart racing in his chest as he turned toward the battle before them. He swallowed with a dry throat and began to run.

  Chapter Thirty Two

  Tanner’s feet found the rail as he leaped across the gap onto the deck of the clipper. He had not been in the army and had never seen battle, but now, in his home town, on the waters of the Mersey, he fought. As he jumped through the air, the battle raged before him.

  The Royal navy sailors were more organised in their style, they gathered in groups of three and four, trying in the chaos of the fight to keep each other alive. Davidson’s men showed more aggression, knowing as they did that even if this fight didn’t end in their death it would see them in jail, or at the end of a hangman’s rope.

  Swords flashed and blood was spilled onto the wooden planks of the clipper’s deck. At the height of his vault between the ships Tanner saw two of Davidson’s men drag a naval man to the deck, kicking and punching his face with a ferocity he had rarely seen in a street fight. This was raw violence, committed by men who knew they had no other choice and nowhere to run.

  He landed hard on the deck, skidding and nearly going down under his own momentum. He put down a hand and slid to a halt with just enough room to right himself before the first man was at him.

  His attacker was a short, dark eyed man with blood already drying on his shirt. His sleeves were rolled up and a nasty looking knife was in one hand. He lunged at Tanner, a split second too late to take advantage of the detective’s prone position. Tanner side-stepped and, unable to bring his sword to play, punched the man’s face instead. It was a solid contact, with all of his weight behind it. The man looked dazed and Tanner levelled him with a second blow.

  There wasn’t time to get his bearings however, as a second man was on him in a flash. This time Tanner could use his blade, and he brought it up just in time to block an overhead blow from a billhook. The shock of the impact sent a jarring pain down through his already damaged elbow, and the billhook blade looked terrifyingly close as it stopped inches from Tanner’s nose.

  The advantage was with his opponent – the overhead blow carrying with it all of the man’s weight. Tanner changed tack, kicking out in front of him instead. He was rewarded with an almost comical look of shock and pain. The man dropped to his knees, his weapon falling forgotten from his hand, and clutched his abused privates.

  Tanner had no time to waste on a man who was already incapacitated, he raised himself to his feet by pushing a hand down on to the man’s face, then stepped over his prostrate form. Looking about him, he saw Templeton fencing with two of Davidson’s men. He side stepped a blow from one, drove an elbow into the face of the second before he brought his blade down across the back of the first as the unfortunate man toppled off-balance. It was a moment of sublime control and artistry, but Templeton simply stepped toward the next opponent without another thought.

  Tanner ran a few steps to catch-up with his partner, it was this decision that saved his life. A flash-bang erupted in the very spot he had been occupying not a second before. Tanner felt the blast of the explosion, heat prickling the hairs on the back of his neck. He turned back to see bellows of smoke and an unrecognisable body lying a few feet from where the explosive had impacted.

  A man reeled backward past him, pin-wheeling his arms in an effort to keep his balance, before tripping on a coil of rope and hitting the deck hard. In front of him three sailors were being backed down by half a dozen men, they all wore heavy docker’s boots and the same flannel trousers. A shot came from high in the rigging, dropping one of the gang, blood spilling from a wound in his throat. The men to either side of him backed away in horror, giving the sailors the chance to step into the fight, billy clubs ready.

  The captain’s cabin was no more than twenty feet away but the space between Tanner, Templeton, and door was filled with fighting men. As they watched, a boy with wild ginger hair flying behind him, and hatred in his eyes, was stabbed by an unseen assailant. The attack was so violent that the blade appeared out of his back. He groped out, trying to grasp whoever had stabbed him, before his arms fell to his sides and his knees buckled.

  A fresh flash-bang exploded amongst the men in front of Tanner. There were as many of Davidson’s men as there were naval recruits, and the effect was carnage. Whoever had thrown the weapon cared little for the loss of life on either side, and Tanner had to wonder at the minds of the men who had signed up to cause the death and destruction that had beset Liverpool. These were not men with ambition to overthrow an oppressor, nor men with honour. These men, at least some of them, had joined this cause in order to kill, to harm their fellow man, and no more.

  Bodies lay everywhere, men screamed in pain as their flesh burned and blood soaked their clothes. Tanner turned to see if Templeton was hurt. He was once more amazed that in the middle of such carnage he seemed untouched by the filth and violence.

  A young man came from his strange new friend’s far side, Tanner watched as he turned in one motion and hooked the boy’s head into the crook of his elbow. His free hand held no weapon, but as he jabbed it into the side of his attacker’s neck, the boy went limp and dropped to the deck.

  “A trick I picked up in India,” Templeton said, smiling.

  “And one you can teach me, if we ever get out of here,” Tanner grinned.

  For a moment, the flash bang had cleared them a path to the captain’s cabin, Tanner took the chance to cross the last few steps to the door. He tried the handle and found it unlocked. He stepped to one side and slowly pushed the door open. Nothing came at them out of the darkness of the room beyond and, after a second to brace himself, they stepped inside.

  Davidson was sitting in the captain’s chair, dwarfing the desk in front of him. He smiled as they entered, pulling the door closed behind them, muting the sounds of battle. Standing to one side of the chair, looking terrified with his neck held tight in Davidson’s hand was Billy Gerrard.

  “Not one step further, detective,” Davidson said, his deep voice filling the cabin. He shook Billy, showing him off as if the two men before him hadn’t seen the child. Billy winced and tried to struggle away, but in vain.

  “Put the boy down, Davidson. It’s over. Your men are dying out there and your ship is a wreck,” Tanner said, not sure how the battle was fairing. Being in the middle of a scrap, he had learned over the years, was often the worse place from which to judge its outcome.

  “There are two vessels, I believe. Call off the fight, tell the captain of that
ship to hand it over to me and my men. If you do as I say, I will leave without further blood being shed.” Davidson’s eyes drifted to Billy, the boy had tears rolling down his cheeks.

  “That will never happen,” Tanner said, shaking his head. “Even if I wanted to give you what you ask for, and I don’t, there is no way a navy captain is going to give up his ship.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Tanner,” Billy said, his words wet with tears.

  “It’s okay, Billy,” Tanner replied. “It’s all going to be okay, has he hurt you?”

  Davidson didn’t give the boy the chance to answer, instead he stood up, lifting Billy so that his toes were barely touching the carpeted floor of the cabin.

  “Enough of this, get me a ship, or the boy and everyone else aboard dies.”

  Templeton stepped forward, putting himself between Davidson and the door. His demeanour was calm, as it always was, but Tanner could feel the anger rising from him. He slowly lifted the walking stick from his belt, unscrewed the silver ball from the top, then dropped his sword back in place before securing the top once more. After slipping the stick back into his belt, he stood defenceless before the ex-slave and his captive.

  “You know you can’t kill the boy, Davidson. He’s the only bargaining chip you have left. You can’t kill too many of those men out there either. This isn’t a small ship, you need that crew out there, otherwise this may as well be a floating box.” As he spoke, he took a small step forward and Davidson lifted Billy higher, so that his feet left the floor. He began to struggle, grasping at the hand that held him, but he may as well have been clutching at a hangman’s noose.

  “One more step and I will snap his neck, then you and I will test our powers against each other,” he said. Tanner saw hunger in his eyes, this man wanted the challenge. He had met someone who interested him, in Templeton. Who could blame him? A life such as his, spent learning such things, must be isolating. Now before him, stood a man with powers. It was natural to feel a draw toward one of his own.