Watery Grave

by Bruce Alexander

  “The great wheel with which the ship is steered.”

  “Ah, yes.”

  There was no missing the helm once he had described it to me. The thing stood, unattended, just away from the wall of the poop deck. I stepped behind it and looked up to my right. There was Mr. Grimsby, or most of him — cut off at the knees he was. He saw me as I saw him and gave me a mock salute. I returned to Sir John and gave my report. As was so often his way, he merely thanked me, giving me no idea what the significance of this might be.

  Vice-Admiral Sir Robert summoned us then and took us through a short corridor. As he pounded stoutly on the door, I looked about me and realized that Lieutenant Hartsell was only a few steps away in the captain’s cabin. Strange place a ship such as this one was, wherein accuser and accused resided in such proximity. Indeed it was not even locked from the outside. Lieutenant Landon had nothing but his word of honor to keep him prisoner there.

  The door opened, and he was revealed to us, a young man not yet twenty-five I should say, spare of build and lean of face. His dark hair he wore long. The dark expression in his eyes brightened only a bit when he recognized his visitor.

  “Sir Robert,” said he, “kind of you to look in on me again. Come in, all of you, and please seat yourselves.”

  His manner struck me as quite informal, considering his situation. He was introduced to Sir John, told of his qualifications, and the reason for this visit. Yet as he eased himself down into a chair and put aside the Bible he had been reading, the light seemed to fade from his eyes, as it merely to discuss the charges against him with others were to remind him that his case was quite hopeless. He seemed almost to accept his state. He gave the impression of a man already condemned, one simply awaiting his appointment with the hangman.

  Had he been present during Sir John’s interrogation of Hartsell he would not be in such a state, I told myself. Had he heard him trip up the acting captain with his own words he would have taken heart. Of that I was sure certain.

  Nevertheless, as they began to converse on the matter, he talked as listless as he looked. When Sir John asked him if he was on the poop deck with Captain Markman at the time the captain went overboard, he agreed that he was and added that he was there on the orders of Lieutenant Hartsell.

  “Would you describe for me the action that led to the captain going into the sea?”

  “We, the captain and myself, came up top,” said Lieutenant Landon, “and I looked for Lieutenant Hartsell on the poop, where he had been. He had specifically told me to bring him there, yet he was then on the quarterdeck. I struggled to assist the captain in the direction of the starboard ladder, yet then we laid along hard to starboard, quite flattened against the sea we were. I thought it likely we would be swamped and sink. The captain flew out of my grasp and against the taffrail, and I saw him lose the deck with his feet and begin to slide over the side. I grasped at him first at his coat, then at his feet as he went. There was no holding him. I was left with naught but his shoe in my hand.”

  “Have you a notion why Lieutenant Hartsell is convinced you were pushing the captain, rather than attempting to pull him back?”

  “None, none at all. All I can do is insist I did not push the captain. I tried, rather, to save him.”

  Had this last been said with force and certainty, it would have stood as an impressive denial. As it was put forth by Lieutenant Landon, however, the words seemed to drop from him indifferently, uncertainly. He did, in fact, end the speech with a shrug, as if to imply that it made little difference whether he denied his guilt in the matter or accepted it.

  “Young man,” said Sir John sternly, “you must do better than that in your own behalf, or you are sure to hang.”

  Perhaps it was the prospect thus put before him, or perhaps it was merely Sir John’s tone of voice, but the effect upon Lieutenant Landon was such that he immediately sat up straight in his chair, gave a sharp nod, and said, “Yes, sir.” Had he been standing, I daresay he would have given the magistrate the salute he had denied the admiral.

  “I have but two more questions to put to you,” continued Sir John.” First, since you do not deny your hands were outstretched toward the captain, the question becomes simply one of interpreting your action. Can you consider why Lieutenant Hartsell should interpret your action in a manner so negative?”

  As in the captain’s cabin, I had taken a place beside the chair wherein Sir John was seated. From that vantage, I saw a look, or perhaps better stated two looks, pass between Lieutenant Landon and Sir Robert. The lieutenant’s was inquiring; the admiral’s was cautionary. All this went between them so quickly that there was only the briefest pause before Landon s reply came.

  “I have given thought to it, of course, sir,” said he forthrightly, “but I can give no good reason.”

  “Well, think on it more, for it is an important matter. My second question is like unto the previous one. Is there any reason for you to have moved with violence against Captain Markham? That is to say, had you any motive to do him harm?”

  “None. In fact, I doubt that the captain even knew me.”

  “You what? That is a most odd thing to say. You were his second officer, were you not?”

  “Yes sir, but as you may already have heard, the captain was ill through most, if not all the voyage. He barely ventured from his cabin.”

  “In what way was he ill?”

  “Since I am no medico, my opinion would be worth little. You had best take that up with the ship’s surgeon, Donald MacNaughton. I understand, however, that he has left the ship.”

  “We shall do that, I presume. But for now, I have done with questioning you. Lieutenant Landon.”

  So saying, Sir John rose and tapped his stick smartly on the cabin floor. I took his side and we began moving toward the door oFthe cabin. Somewhat surprised by this quick exit, the Heutenant and the admiral got swiftly to their feet and were only beginning to say their goodbye when I had the door open and Sir John had stepped out into the corridor. As I followed him, I heard Sir Robert inquire if the young lieutenant was well fed and if he was allowed from his cabin for exercise at some time during the day. That seemed to me curiously solicitous under the circumstances.

  It seemed to me curious also that bare ten words passed between Sir John and Sir Robert once they were together. Sir Robert remarked upon his need to return to his office at the Navy Board. Sir John agreed that it was growing late. The ship’s log was delivered to the admiral by a midshipman at the ship’s ladder. At that Sir John did no more than emit a skeptical grunt. And nothing more was said the length of our voyage from ship to shore in the pinnace of the Adventure.

  Again, at the Tower Wharf I was last up the ladder. Considering the silence they had kept, I was somewhat surprised to hear them, as I reached the top, talking loudly and in such animated fashion that I could have sworn that the two old friends were arguing. In fact, they were. Whatever passed before I cannot say, but as I crawled up and over, I saw the admiral butt his fist into his open palm.

  “By God, Jack, ” he was saying, “it wasn’t proper, the way you talked to him. He knew it wasn’t. I knew it wasn’t. And he knew I knew.”

  “What does it matter?” replied the magistrate.” I treated him as I would have any witness.”

  “But he was not any witness. He was the captain of the H.M.S. Adventure.”

  “Acting captain.”

  “Don’t quibble with me. He has served as captain de facto for over two years. And to talk to him as you did before his crew — expressing doubt. What was it you said? T doubt you could see anything as clearly as you say.’”

  “Well, I did doubt it, Bobbie, and I do still.”

  “But to say as much before his crew is tantamount to inciting mutiny.”

  “Nonsense,” said Sir John.” A captain who does not have the confidence of his crew is no captain at all.”

  “So we were once taught. But the truth of it is that a man in Hartsell’s position must deal
with criminals and cutthroats, whatever the press gangs scrape up from the bottom of society. To keep their confidence, a man must sometimes be hard, may sometimes seem inflexible and capricious, but above all, he must not allow them to doubt him.”

  “I deal with such as you describe every day at Bow Street, and in my experience, fairness and consistency do far more to win their respect and confidence.”

  Clearly, Sir Robert had grown weary of the argument. He took Sir John by the arm and moved him to the wharf stairs, as he beckoned me also to come along. Well did I know that my chief and master seldom allowed himself to be led in such a way; a touch at the elbow was all he would put up with as a rule, for he liked not being thus reminded of his blindness. Yet from his old chum he would tolerate it.

  Thus they walked in step half the length of the long wharf, I following close behind. At last, as they descended the stairs, the admiral spoke up in tribute to the magistrate:

  “I give you credit, though. Jack. You got far more out of Lieutenant Hartsell than I could have done, whatever your method.”

  “That is my job, Bobbie. I fear, however, I did not do near so well with the accused. You seem to be on good terms with the young man; you must encourage him to think and speak more forcefully in his own defense. He seems almost languid, as if given in to despair. Have you named a counsel for his defense yet?”

  “Not as yet, no. There are not many to choose from here in London.”

  “He would be Navy, of course?”

  “Of course.”

  “I would advise him — and I uv//advise him, if you like —but I would tell him to attack Hartsell’s story and to seek other witnesses among the crew.”

  “None yet has come forward from the crew —at least not from those let out on leave. But as for what you propose as regards Lieutenant Hartsell …”

  “What? You suggest it might create doubt? That, if you’ll pardon me, is precisely what should be created. And don’t tell me about the crew. None will be present.”

  “But Jack, Hartsell u the captain.”

  “And all he need do is repeat, ‘I saw what I saw’ —is that it? He seemed almost to be saying, ‘I am who I am,’ did he not?”

  “He uf the captain.”

  “Ah, Bobbie, Bobbie, the law of the ship is something quite apart from the law of the shore. I begin to appreciate that more and more. But let us not part with the slightest rancor between us, old friend. We have too many good memories for that. Let me propose something. Come to dine with us tomorrow evening, and we shall not say a word oFthis matter —not one word! It will be humble fare, but there will be plenty of wine, I promise.”

  They had come to a halt there on Tower Hill. The building which housed the offices of the Navy Board lay close by. The admiral grasped Sir John’s hand and clasped it warmly in both of his.

  “I should be happy to, Jack,” said he.” The mess at the Tower leaves much to be desired, even for an old bachelor such as myself, yet since I have not yet taken up permanent lodging, I have little choice.”

  “Tomorrow night at eight then? Number Four Bow Street above the court.”

  “Tomorrow at eight —and I look forward to meeting your good wife. Till then.”

  He pulled away then and hurried across the street, a considerable figure in his long coat and bouncing epaulets. He had not taken notice to say goodbye to me —but after all, he was an admiral, was he not? — and I but one of Sir John’s crew.

  “Now, Jeremy, if you can find us a hackney, we shall be on our way.”

  “One waits just ahead,” said I.

  “Well, signal him forward. I have had enough of up and down ladders and tramping about.”

  Moments later, we were settled inside the carriage and Sir John was bemoaning the necessity that had driven him to invite Vice-Admiral Sir Robert Redmond to dinner.

  “Kate will not be happy,” said he glumly, “not with this matter of Mrs. Gredge hanging fire. Perhaps the old soul will be sufficiently recovered to help out a bit. Perhaps not.”

  “But you said you were driven by necessity, sir,” said I.” I don’t quite …”

  “Ah, well, the matter of Tom Durham’s appointment as midshipman, of course. I hope to enlist Sir Robert’s help. I became so caught up in the interrogation of those two —damned rude I was, I admit it —that I quite forgot I had come to beg. Then that final wrangle with Bobbie, it would have been impolitic to mention it then as an ‘Oh, by the by.’ No, tomorrow evening it will have to be. We must begin on the matter as quickly as ever we can.”

  We rode along in silence a good long way, and as we went. Sir John began tapping on the floor of the carriage with his stick. Was he deep in thought or merely impatient? Since I had a matter to broach I waited a bit, but in the end thought it best to come out with it.

  “Sir John?”

  “Yes, boy, what is it?”

  “When you asked Mr. Landon if there was any reason why Mr. Hartsell might have thought ill of his motion to grasp at the captain, I saw that young lieutenant give a look —oh, with eyebrows raised —to the admiral, and the admiral answered with a frown and a slight shake of the head.”

  “Just so, eh? Permission requested, permission denied. Well, that is interesting, is it not?”

  “And they did seem to be on somewhat informal terms.”

  “Yes, indeed. Like those mountains of ice that float in the north seas, there is more to all this beneath the surface than above, and far more than I would like.”

  A surprise awaited us upon our return. Lady Fielding had returned from the Magdalene Home for Penitent Prostitutes and had in tow a girl to help in the kitchen. Since she had declared her hope to find one such, this was no surprise. But what quite astonished me was that the girl in question was none other than Annie, the saucy and flirtatious slavey from the kitchen of the late Lord Goodhope. I recalled that Sir John had expressed the fear she might wind up on the streets, and it was by that devious route she had come to our kitchen.

  When Sir John and I made our entry we found the two women engaged almost gaily in the preparation of our dinner — peeling, chopping, talking as women will in the kitchen. It was to be a stew from the leavings of last night’s beef—rich stuff that was for stew meat —and the good smell of it quite permeated the place. Mrs. Gredge was nowhere to be seen.

  Lady Fielding presented her —Annie Oakum —as a girl from the Magdalene Home with some skill in cooking. And she added: “Annie tells me the two of you met a year ago. Jack, in the course of the inla-mous Goodhope matter.” All smiles she was, like a teacher presenting her best pupil.

  “Why, indeed!” said Sir John, offering his hand.” Of course I remember you, Annie —and pleased I am that our paths have crossed once again.”

  Thus he greeted her as an old friend. She, for her part, was the very exemplar of politesse, curtseying, giving him a “sir” ever) third or fourth word. She seemed determined to make a good Impression upon him, and by and large she succeeded. To me she threw a wink.

  Inviting Lady Fielding upstairs for “a talk,” Sir John left us for his small study. I knew better than she the matters he wished to talk to her about. She seemed perplexed and a bit puzzled.

  “Can you keep a hand on things till I return?” she asked Annie.

  “I’m quite capable, mum, I swear, You’ve no need to worry.”

  “I shan’t, Annie. You’re in charge now.”

  Then she turned to me with a frown and said, “Jeremy, have you any idea where Tom has got to? He seems to have been gone quite some time.”

  In truth, I did have an idea, yet the one I had would only have distressed her. (How could I have told her he had gone off to meet an ex-pirate?) And so I simply reported to her the facts as I knew them.

  “When last I saw him he was off with an old chum a-walking through Covent Garden.”

  “I do hope it was not one of those who led him into crime.”

  “He’s all right,” said I.” I know the fellow myself.”r />
  “Would you vouch for him?”

  I gave that a moment’s thought.” Yes,” I told her at last, “I would.”

  “Very well, ” said she, “but if Tom is not back soon, I shall send you out to fetch him home.”

  Having said that, she gave a firm nod and headed for the stairs. We two watched her go. Once Lady Fielding was out of sight and safely out of earshot, Annie burst forth with a great giggle.

  “You shoulda seen your face,” said she, “how your mouth hung open when you spied me. It was all I could do to hold mown face together.”

  “Well, ” said I in a bit of a pout, “I was surprised to see you.”

  “Oh, I daresay you was.” And she giggled again.” But best you get used to seeing me here, Jeremy, old friend, for I’m your new cook.”

  “Are you as certain as all that? Mrs. Gredge may soon be up and about.”

  “That ain’t how her ladyship sees it. She said she’d give me a chance, and a chance is all I ask. I’ve no wish to go back to what I left.”

  “Why?” said I, all too naive.” Is life at the Magdalene Home so insufferable?”

  “That ain’t what I meant.”

  “Oh.” I considered for a moment what she had meant. Then my young mind turned to more practical matters.” But Annie, forgive me for asking, but can you cook? I thought you and Meg were but washers of pots and pans.”

  She pulled herself erect and raised her chin.” Well, Mr. Jeremy Smartyboots, it shoulda been plain to you that Meggie and me did all the cookin’ in that house —or most of it —as well as the washin’ up. Cook called us her prentices and taught us a good bit, yet she never signed papers for us. I’m not sure she could, being a woman. Still and all, we learned a thing or two from her, we did.”

  “Have you …” I began timidly.” Have you heard anything from Meg since she left for Lancashire?”

  “So you fancied her just as she fancied you?”

  I ignored the question, for it was one to which she expected no answer.

  “No, I ain’t heard a word from Meg, nor am I likely to. She can’t write, and I can’t read.”

  It was then that Tom Durham saved himself from the indignity of being fetched back from the pirate’s lair. He came tramping up the stairs and into the kitchen, wearing a broad smile which bespoke a pleasant afternoon spent in the company of Jimmie Bunkins and his cove, Black Jack Bilbo. To me he seemed in no wise exceptional, nor different from the fellow I had been with earlier that day.