Agent Provocateur

by Christopher C Tubbs

  Strangely, they could see no movement. There didn’t appear to be anybody on watch and there was no indication that she was ‘out of discipline’. No boats approached her either.

  Marty hailed a boatman and asked him to ferry them out. The man looked reluctant and only agreed after Marty paid a pair of crowns, which was about double the going rate.

  They approached the ship and were almost hooking on before a voice hailed, “Boat ahoy.” The boatman signalled he had an officer onboard.

  “Who are you?” Called the voice.

  “Lieutenant Martin Stockley and 6 men here to join the ship,” Marty barked in an impatient tone. This was most irregular.

  “Wait there,” the voice commanded.

  They waited for several minutes then there was a clatter of footsteps and barked orders. Side boys appeared and held out the pristinely clean side ropes then a sour looking face in a lieutenants uniform looked down and said,

  “Well don’t just sit there. Get aboard!”

  Marty looked at Tom and raised his eyebrows but got himself onto the batons and climbed the side. As his head cleared the deck, he could see a row of smartly dressed Marines with an officer in charge, several ships officers, and a man dressed in something that vaguely impersonated a Navy uniform but was so fancy it would have been at home on the Prince Regent. He also had makeup on his face. Rouged cheeks, and a beauty spot.

  He reached the deck, saluted the quarter deck, and said,

  “Lieutenant Stockley reporting aboard as second lieutenant.”

  The overdressed fop stepped forward and made a florid overdone bow and said.

  “My Lord Candor! Welcome! Welcome! We are graced by your presence!”

  Oh My God, he’s as mad as bucket of frogs, thought Marty, Well if he wants to play that game let’s dance.

  “Captain Carruthers. My pleasure, sir,” Marty replied in his best smarmy voice and bowed back to the correct angle protocol demanded.

  “I have orders to join you and have six replacements, followers of mine,” he added looking at what he assumed was the first lieutenant.

  The captain looked to the man who had ordered them up and said,

  “Jonny, be a good chap and get those men up and made comfortable.”

  ‘Jonny’ Gave Marty a dirty look and started giving orders in a quiet voice.

  “Come, come!” The captain insisted, taking Marty by the arm and leading him astern.

  They approached his cabin. The marine on guard, who wasn’t in marine uniform but a footman’s outfit, opened the door for them and bowed them in.

  Marty almost stopped at the door as he got his first view of the inside. It looked like the living room of a palace! Tapestries covered the walls and the transom windows had chintz curtains. The chairs were lush and overstuffed and there was no desk. There were even fresh cut flowers on the sideboard.

  The captain flopped down in one of the chairs and indicated he should sit in the other. Marty lowered himself in noting how soft the chairs were. He waited.

  “I am so pleased you have joined us aboard our ship,” the captain simpered, “When we found out it was you who they were sending we could hardly contain ourselves.”

  What is with all the ‘wes’ and ‘uses,’ Marty thought.

  “Our royal person gets so tired of dealing with the uncultured oafs under our command,” he sighed.

  Damn me, he things he’s the bloody king! Marty realised. He was on dangerous ground. He was smart enough to know that if he popped the man’s fantasy or even contradicted him, he could be punished or worse, killed. So, he decided to play along and see where it took him.

  “I absolutely understand. Your…?”

  “Oh, highness will do,” the captain chirped brightly.

  Nope, he thinks he is the prince regent.

  “Your highness,” Marty completed.

  “Having to travel down with untitled, uneducated dolts, even if they are my followers, is very trying.”

  “I wanted to make you first, you know,” the captain said conspiratorially. “But Jonny got so angry I didn’t have the heart to demote him. After all he practically runs this ship you know.”

  “Good staff are so hard to find,” Marty agreed.

  “Now, I must not keep you from settling in. We must meet every day and have a chat and a glass of wine.” He looked thoughtful for a moment and then said,

  “Would you give me the pleasure of your company this evening for dinner? Drinks at a half past seven?”

  “Delighted, delighted, your highness,” Marty said as he stood to leave.

  As Marty stepped out on deck, the first lieutenant was on watch on the quarter deck.

  “Mr. Stockley, report to me now,” he ordered.

  Marty climbed the steps and presented himself. He didn’t get a chance to say anything.

  “If you think you will be replacing me as first, you will find you will have bitten off more than you can chew,” the man snarled and when Marty made to respond, cut him off and moved very close so no one else could hear. “I will see you broken, and all your followers flogged to death before I am finished if you so much as put a single toe out of line. This is my ship and that fool below is just a passenger. You keep him happy and your men are safe.”

  He stepped back, and Marty could see the pupils of his eyes were very dilated. Then he seemed to shake himself and said,

  “We sail on the tide. Make sure the ship is ready and get those slobs up and on watch.”

  “Aye Aye, sir,” Marty said and went to rouse the mates.

  They got to sea. The crew were well drilled but worked in absolute silence and cast frightened glances aft to the quarterdeck. Marty had no chance to talk to any of his men to find out what was the situation below decks, but he suspected that it was ruled by the lash. The Captain told him they had been ordered to sail North to the Shetlands to put on a show of support to the natives.

  Marty suspected the orders were just contrived to get the ship out of harbour so he could get to work.

  Marty had been below to check the stores and on his way back to the wardroom, ran into the purser. A weaselly little man with a squint that sent his eyes off in different directions.

  “Mr. Sales,” he greeted him, “Have the men been issued with cold weather clothes for the North Atlantic?”

  “Extra clothes? What will they need them for?”

  Marty looked at him closely to see if he was being funny and realized he genuinely didn’t know.

  “Have you ever been to the North Atlantic in winter?”

  ‘No, never been there.”

  “It is cold enough to have ice form on the spars and rigging. The men will need warmer clothes than what they have now to be able to function.”

  “Well, I won’t issue any unless ordered by the captain or the first lieutenant,” Sales said emphatically.

  Marty took a breath then asked,

  “Do you have the clothes in store?”

  “Yes, but as I said it’s only for the captain or first lieutenant to order that.”

  Marty walked away before he said something he would regret.

  On his way to the wardroom, he met Smethers, the third lieutenant, on his way up to take the watch. He knew he wouldn’t see the first as he always locked himself away in his cabin when he was off watch. He did, however, have to pass his door on his way in to the wardroom.

  As he got closer, he became aware of a strange smell. It was pungent and sweet, and it seemed to be coming from the First Lieutenants cabin. Puzzled, he went into the wardroom and wrote up his lists into a form that could be entered into the ship’s books.

  They were sailing up past the Northeast corner of Scotland and the temperature had noticeably dropped. The first stubbornly refused to have extra clothes issued.

  Marty searched out Tom while he was off duty and found him splicing a broken piece of the fore mast rigging. So, on the pretext of monitoring his work he took the chance to get a report on the conditions below
.

  It was worse than he feared, the men were suffering badly. There were four men who should be being looked after by the surgeon in the brig awaiting punishment by flogging for being unable to work because of the cold. He thought about the first who didn’t seem to notice the cold at all and thought that strange. He had read the punishment book and knew that there had been regular beatings with excessive amounts of lashes. Mainly for minor infractions that should have been handled by denial of privileges.

  “Tom, I have noticed an odd smell around the first’s cabin when he is off duty. Could you find an excuse to pass by and see if you recognise it?”

  “Aye, I will wander down when he is off watch tonight. I will use the excuse that you asked for me if I is stopped.”

  “Perfect. Let me know what you think as soon as you can.”

  As it turned out, a storm hit that evening and they didn’t get a chance to check out the smell as all hands were needed to manage the ship. But the next morning dawned bright and clear and Marty had the watch. The first, as usual was nowhere to be seen.

  Tom came up from below carrying Marty’s heavier pea coat and climbed up the steps to the quarter deck. He helped Marty out of the mid-weight overcoat he was wearing and helped him on with the pea coat. As he held it for Marty to put his arms in, he whispered,

  “It be opium, I smelt it when I were in India with the Falcon back in ’92. He be smoking it.”

  Marty had read something about opium smokers and how they could become addicted. He had a vague recollection that if they had their supply cut off, the outcome wasn’t good.

  “Have Matai meet me by the bread room when the first is next on watch at four bells.”

  The first lieutenant’s cabin, apart from the captain’s, was the only one with a lock on the door. But that didn’t even slow him down. Marty had it unlocked in a couple of seconds as the lock wasn’t worth the metal it was made of. Matai was positioned to see the approaches to the cabin as look out.

  He searched his sea chest (also locked) and found a large package with a couple of pounds of a soft, dark brown resin which Marty could smell was Opium.

  There wasn’t any more anywhere else, just a couple of long pipes. So, he left the cabin as he found it, locking the chest and door on his way out. Marty took the package into the wardroom and making sure the third was asleep, opened the gun port and dumped it in the sea.

  He then went to bed and waited.

  At fifteen minutes after midnight, he heard the first come down and unlock his cabin door. Thirty minutes later, there was a howl and banging as if things were being thrown around. The door to his cabin burst open and the first stood in it with a pistol in his hand. His eyes were wild, and he was wearing little more than a pair of breaches.

  “WHERE IS IT?” He screamed at him waiving the pistol around. Marty didn’t answer just looked at him with as good an approximation of astonishment as he could muster.

  “WHERE – IS – IT?” He screamed again, and this time pointed the gun straight at Marty’s chest.

  “I’m sorry, sir, you have me at a disadvantage,” Marty squawked in mock fright. “What are you looking for?”

  The first got himself under control with a visible effort and said,

  “I want this ship searched from top to bottom,” he said, “I want my package found.”

  “Aahh. What are we looking for?” Marty enquired.

  “Just bring me every package you find!” The first ordered shrilly.

  Marty and the third hauled all the midshipmen out of bed and put them to searching every chest, satchel, sea bag and hammock. They were very thorough. Marty insisted on it. It was dawn before they finished and by then the first was found curled up in a ball shivering and sweating at the same time.

  Marty had Tom help him to his cabin. By mid-day, he was in a very bad way. He appeared on deck and went from person to person asking

  “Where is it? Give me a little bit if you have it. Just a little bit.”

  Then he screamed and ordered the men to be flogged for disobeying him.

  Marty looked across the deck at Tom, who nodded. He walked up to the first and whispered something in his ear. The first went almost rigid and looked at Marty in horror his eyes wide. His mouth opened and closed, and Marty whispered again.

  Just then, the captain came on deck and stood watching the scene before him with all the fascination of a rabbit in front of a stoat.

  Marty whispered something else and looked across at the captain.

  Jonny took a staggering step away from Marty and pushed him away with a hand to his chest. He pointed at the captain and stepped towards him. His face twisted in agony as he let out a howl then reached out and took up a marlin spike.

  “You – You fucking asshole! What have you done with my stuff?”

  “Your stuff? Your stuff? What are you talking about Jonny?” Said a completely surprised captain.

  “Jonny? Jonny! My fucking name is Jonathon, you deluded piece of shit. Now give me my stuff or I will beat your brains out!”

  That was what Marty was waiting for. He pulled a pistol from his coat pocket and said,

  “Mr. Phillips, you have threatened the captain in front of witnesses. I must ask you to put the spike down and allow yourself to be placed under arrest.”

  He cocked the pistol with a loud click to make his point.

  Phillips stopped and turned around, looking at all the men who were now watching the drama unfold. He turned in a circle looking at all the faces once then twice. Then looked at Marty who had his killers face on.

  He dropped the spike and walked over to the rail and without looking back just kept going over the side. Marty made no attempt to rescue him or call man overboard.

  There was silence for several seconds after the splash and then the men started to cheer.

  “SILENCE ON THE SHIP!” Marty shouted.

  Gradually, the cheering died down. Marty looked around and then walked over to the captain.

  “Are you unhurt, sir?” He asked

  “What? What? I am fine. What just happened?”

  “The first lieutenant had some kind of fit,” Marty lied.

  “Oh, poor Jonny. He took his duties so seriously it must have gotten to him,” the Captain said sadly, but then beamed at Marty. “But every cloud has a silver lining! You can be my first now!”

  The captain walked to the front of the quarterdeck and announced in a loud-ish voice.

  “Ya hear there? Lord Candor is now the first lieutenant.” That elicited another round of cheering.

  Marty saw the captain back to his cabin with a promise to visit him later for tea and then went on deck and asked Tom to get the purser. He ordered a mid to gather all the officers and warrants on the quarter deck.

  When they were all there, he addressed the purser first.

  “Mr. Sales, you will issue every man with extra clothing and the wherewithal to make gloves and scarves if they ask.”

  Sales looked like he was going to say something but one look at Marty’s face and he spun on his heal and went below.

  “Master at arms! Release the men in the brig and have them report to the surgeon. If he isn’t sober enough to treat them get him on deck and sober him up by whatever means necessary.”

  He looked over the others.

  “From now on, you will not use starters on the men. Nor will they be forbidden to laugh or talk. If I catch anyone abusing any crewmen or ship’s boys, they will take a turn at the grating.” He looked around their faces, noting which ones weren’t happy.

  “Do I make myself clear?” he asked.

  They all nodded or said aye aye.

  “Mr. Smethers is the new second and Franklin is acting third. Peters?”

  “Aye aye, sir?” said the oldest mid. “You are now senior mid, and we will resume your educations as I believe they have been sadly neglected.”

  He dismissed them.

  Tom and the boys appeared.

  “And what can I
do for all of you?” Marty asked.

  “Oh, we was just wondering if you wanted us to pitch the captain over the side for you,” John laughed.

  Wilson flexed his huge arms and grinned at him.

  “He is harmless and living in his own little world. It was the first that was the real problem. However, I want you lot to keep your eyes and ears open. There are some on this ship who did well from the old regime and they won’t like me taking over. Now you slackers get back to whatever you are supposed to be doing.”

  Marty looked around the quarterdeck and then up at the rigging. Satisfied he handed the watch over to the new second.

  He had the old first’s cabin completely removed and rebuilt with fresh timber and canvas. He also had a new cot built. It was the only way to get rid of the smell of the opium. While the carpenter and his mates were busy with that he sat in the wardroom and wrote a report for Lord Hood.

  He had tea with the captain every day and dined with him when invited. He slowly and gently put the idea in to his head that he needed to be back on land to help rule the people.

  They reached Shetland and ran into the harbour at Lerwick. Their orders stated they were to stay three days and to visit the local Laird. He, however, proved to be elusive and they could only send messages.

  Marty went ashore with his boys and they took a walk to Fort Charlotte. There they met a captain of infantry who had no more than an extended platoon of men. There was also a platoon of artillery as well but the highest rank officer they could find was an ensign, the commander was apparently off on a hunting trip across the island somewhere. Marty asked if he was with the Laird and was told he was.

  Well that explains it, he thought.

  They were preparing to leave on day three when they saw a group of horsemen appear on the docks. The horses were steaming in the cold air as if they had been ridden hard. One rider stood in his stirrups and waved his hat at them.