The Deception at Lyme: Or, the Peril of Persuasion (Mr. And Mrs. Darcy Mysteries) (32 page)

“You monitor weight that closely?” Elizabeth asked.

“Weight and its distribution are serious matters on a vessel of any size. They affect balance, speed, and maneuvering,” St. Clair explained. “Yet when I brought the discrepancy to my captain’s attention, he dismissed it as an arithmetic error and said we were almost to port, so I should not concern myself about it. I left the matter alone as far as the captain knew, but I wondered whether what I had observed might be evidence of smuggling. This was not a great leap—the practice is widespread, and we had spent one night moored off an uninhabited part of the Costa Rican coast for reasons the captain never made altogether clear—but I had no idea what the contraband was, or who among the crew was involved. On that same voyage, we had one crewman kill another over a gold figurine that was obviously beyond the means of either of them to have purchased. The killer claimed they had found it, but never revealed where before he was hanged. At the time, I made no connexion between the incident and my smuggling suspicions.”

The faint sound of a baby’s cry drifted from the nursery. Mrs. Wentworth started and glanced at the closed door, but remained in the study while Mrs. Logan quieted her charge.

Captain St. Clair continued. “Our next port after Jamaica was the Bahamas.” He leaned over the table and identified the islands for them on the map. “There, I was able to meet with Admiral Croft, whom I had always respected and trusted when he was my captain. When I shared my suspicions about the weight discrepancy with him, he said he had received reports of other suspicious cargoes, officers, and ships, and asked if I would quietly investigate them. I was appointed to the
Magna Carta,
and have continued the investigation ever since.”

“Is not enforcement of excise laws the province of customs officials?” Darcy asked.

“Primarily,” said Admiral Croft, “and we have been working in cooperation with them. The Articles of War, however, forbid His Majesty’s officers from receiving and transporting goods aboard naval ships for personal gain. The Admiralty, therefore, has a strong interest in identifying and prosecuting any officers or seamen involved in such misconduct.”

Darcy looked up at Captain St. Clair. “So when my cousin came to you with the information that the cook had found gold idols in a sugar cask—”

“That is when I first started piecing together what was occurring. Since then, gathering information aboard other ships and from other sources, I have gained what I believe is a comprehensive understanding of the operation, and in the past several weeks most of the remaining questions have been answered. We need to identify just a few more individuals, and then we can move forward with arrests and seizures.”

“We want to perform them all at once,” Admiral Croft said, “so that the ringleaders do not have an opportunity to rally their forces. And frankly, until now the war has prevented the Admiralty from devoting more resources to the smuggling investigation. Now that Bonaparte is defeated, we can address other matters we had been forced to defer.”

“What we did not anticipate,” St. Clair resumed, “was that private investigations undertaken by Captain Wentworth and you, Mr. Darcy, would overlap our efforts and in some cases interfere with them, by inadvertently alerting certain suspects to the fact that
someone
is examining their activities more closely than a guilty person wants. They are becoming nervous—which can be beneficial, because nervous people make mistakes. At the same time, they are getting desperate, which makes them unpredictable.”

“You are speaking of my queries regarding my cousin’s death?”

“Yes, and of Captain Wentworth’s enquiries on behalf of Mrs. Smith.”

“Mrs. Smith?” Anne Wentworth exclaimed. “She barely has anything to live on. She cannot possibly be involved in smuggling.”

“In her case, it is because of the smuggling that she has nothing to live on,” the admiral said.

Mrs. Wentworth regarded him with confusion. “I do not understand.”

“Here is what we have learned,” St. Clair said. “Some years ago, a naval ship needing to replenish its supply of fresh water stopped along the coast of Central America and sent a landing party onto shore. Deep in the jungle, they discovered more than mere water—they came upon a cave full of gold, a forgotten Spanish treasure trove of ancient artifacts once seized from the natives. They kept the discovery secret from the rest of their shipmates, planning to go back and retrieve it. The fortunes of war being what they are, and greed being the corrupting force it is, most members of the original landing party have died for a variety of reasons, but the story survived and eventually found its way to the ears of someone with the connexions to do something about collecting the gold. Over the years—impeded by not only our wars with the Americans and French, but also the revolutions still sweeping Spanish America—the cache has gradually been moved to Jamaica. That is what the extra weight was on the
Claudius
—large amounts being transported at once, loaded under cover of darkness. From there it has begun to be smuggled in small quantities aboard Royal Navy ships and transported to England.”

“In sugar casks packed at Mr. Smith’s plantation,” Darcy finished.

“Precisely,” St. Clair said.

“The admiral, Captain St. Clair, and I discussed part of this before you arrived,” Wentworth said to Darcy. “Apparently, Smith’s plantation was being used as a middle stage even before his trip to Jamaica with Mr. Elliot. The business they conducted while there refined the procedure and strengthened relations with the people they relied upon to perform that end of the operation.”

“What happened after Mr. Smith’s death?”

“Nothing at all,” St. Clair said. “The business has continued to run as profitably as it ever did. The estate has not been sequestered—that is a lie Mr. Elliot told Mrs. Smith to maintain control over the plantation and see the transport of the entire cache through to completion. Meanwhile, he has been embezzling its legitimate profits, channeling most of them into the smuggling operation.”

“He has been stealing from a poor widow?” Mrs. Wentworth exclaimed.

“Not any longer,” Admiral Croft said. “Captain Wentworth’s sounding has made officials both here and in Spanish Town look more closely at the estate. It may be seized while an audit is conducted, but Frederick and I will make the revenue men see the injustice of her situation.”

“If the smugglers have so much gold, and most of Mrs. Smith’s money, why do they not simply build their own ship to transport it?” Elizabeth asked.

“Because the British Navy rules the waves.” Admiral Croft, whose slow pacing had taken him round the table several times in the course of their discussion, reached the empty chair beside Captain Wentworth and sat down.

“A private ship is more likely to be captured by an enemy vessel or privateer,” St. Clair said, “and those that do reach England are scrutinized by customs agents. Naval cargoes are subject to naval inspection—and we have identified plenty of dishonest workers paid to overlook violations—but nobody examines the personal possessions of naval officers.” He took the last remaining seat, beside Georgiana. “Now that the war is over, however, there are fewer naval ships crossing the ocean, and many of the corrupt personnel—from captains down—are no longer in a position to transport the gold. Also, the seas are safer than they were for merchant ships. So building a private trading vessel is
precisely
what our smugglers are doing at present.”

“The
Black Cormorant
,” Elizabeth said.

“You, Mrs. Darcy, may come work for me anytime,” said the admiral.

“No wonder Mr. Elliot wanted Captain Tourner as his ship’s master,” Elizabeth added. “Tourner had for years already been smuggling the contraband for him and his mysterious partner.”

Both St. Clair and the admiral regarded Elizabeth curiously. “How do you know about Mr. Elliot’s anonymous partner?” St. Clair asked.

“Mr. Darcy and I overheard the two of you talking. You were trying to persuade him to hire you, and asked to meet with his partner.”

St. Clair stared at her. “I thought he and I finished that conversation long before we met you and Mr. Darcy near the quay.”

Elizabeth looked at Darcy in rueful realization. She had just betrayed their discovery of the Cobb’s odd acoustical properties.

“You might as well tell them now,” Darcy said. “The knowledge could prove useful.”

Elizabeth described the whispering effect, which they all found astonishing.

“Well! If that is not the strangest thing I have heard this week, I do not know what is.” The admiral laughed and turned to St. Clair. “Instead of investigating the thieves, you could have just sat on the Cobb and waited for them to stroll along incriminating themselves.”

“That would certainly be easier than extricating information from Mr. Elliot.”

“Have you been able to determine the identity of his partner?” Darcy asked.

“I have long had my suspicions,” St. Clair said, “but they were confirmed two days ago on the
Black Cormorant
.” He paused, then looked at Georgiana. “It is Sir Laurence.”

“Sir Laurence?” she exclaimed, her astonishment echoed by all but the admiral. Darcy could hardly himself believe it, and for a moment thought St. Clair’s indictment was reciprocity for the baronet’s accusations against St. Clair. But then he recalled how well informed Sir Laurence had been about the merchant vessel on the day of its launch, how he had described it with such pride to Georgiana. Darcy had thought his sister’s suitor had wanted to impress her with his knowledge—now he realized the baronet had wanted to impress her with the ship itself.

Georgiana yet regarded St. Clair in disbelief. “That cannot be.”

“I am afraid it is, Miss Darcy. I am sorry—I know you consider him and his sister your friends. But I not only heard him discuss his ownership of the
Black Cormorant
with Captain Tourner—” St. Clair paused again, longer this time, his expression holding the regret of one about to give pain. “I saw him kill Tourner.”

“No!” She shook her head vehemently. “No—I know Sir Laurence. He could not possibly have committed such a wicked act.”

She looked to her brother with eyes that implored him to somehow refute St. Clair’s assertion. He would to heaven he could. Were it true, the baronet had sent Georgiana into Tourner’s cabin knowing the dead captain’s body was in the wardrobe—setting her up to make the discovery that would incriminate St. Clair. It was an act almost as unconscionable as the murder itself.

“How did you come to bear witness?” Darcy asked St. Clair.

“I went aboard earlier in the day, when the ship was still docked in the harbor, to talk to Tourner about coming on as first mate. The thought of serving under him again was abhorrent. I had originally—as you overheard, Mrs. Darcy—hoped to get hired on as the master, because I thought there would be a greater chance of direct contact with those at the highest level of the conspiracy; I had long suspected Sir Laurence was a party to the smuggling, but could never find any real evidence connecting him to it. Nearly everything goes through Mr. Elliot—Elliot is the middleman. But Mr. Elliot’s partner was determined to have Tourner, so my choices were serving as second-in-command or watching the ship sail off, taking with it the opportunity to finally complete this investigation.”

From the front of the house, the sound of a door opening indicated that Mrs. Smith’s chair bearers had arrived. St. Clair, however, ignored the noise and continued.

“I met with Tourner. He was quite full of himself—and not a little rum—and so condescending that I almost decided I would rather give up the investigation altogether than spend months sailing to Jamaica and back as his subordinate. Tourner said he would consider me. When we had done with our conversation, he could not trouble himself to see me off the ship, and I decided to have a covert look about. Tourner left his cabin for a while, and I sneaked back in to see what I could find. Unfortunately, Sir Laurence came aboard—so eager to see how his new ship handled now that she was fitted out enough for a run that he insisted Tourner take him on a test cruise.”

“If he goes to such trouble to distance himself from association with the smuggling, was he not concerned about the crew seeing him aboard?” Darcy asked.

“To them he was merely Tourner’s aristocratic friend, not the ship’s owner. Even so, that core crew is carefully chosen, every one of them a seaman who has worked on another ship the conspirators have used, who can be trusted to follow orders and keep his mouth shut.”

As St. Clair spoke, Georgiana rose and walked away from the table. Doubtless, what the captain was about to describe would be painful for her to hear, and Darcy could not blame her for wanting to listen from a place where her countenance could not be observed by everyone in the room. St. Clair’s concerned gaze followed her until she reached the window and looked upon the sea, her back to them all.

He returned his attention to those at the table and continued. “During the cruise, Sir Laurence was on deck with Tourner, but as the ship headed back it came to a stop not far from the Cobb. As the anchors lowered, I heard Sir Laurence and Tourner coming into Tourner’s cabin, so I hid in his cot, drew closed the bed curtains, and lay still. I dared not shift enough to peer through the curtains; as you saw, the cot is suspended, and I feared any movement would draw notice.

“They shared a drink in celebration of the ship’s performance. The bottle poured more after that—I know not how many times for each of them, but I expect the balance listed to one side—and Tourner’s speech became less guarded. ‘We will be able to move the gold in greater quantities now,’ he said. ‘That should please you. I could see in your face when you first laid eyes upon it that you wanted to get it to England in all haste.’ Sir Laurence made no reply. Tourner continued, saying that Mr. Elliot had told him everything was arranged with their friends among the preventive men. Sir Laurence confirmed that Tourner should encounter no trouble from the revenue authorities upon his return, and enquired how soon the
Black Cormorant
could set sail.