The Hawk (29 page)

'Ain't Kingshill watched, though? Is it wise for us to go
there, sir, d'y'think?'

'D'y'presume to advise me, now, Mr Hayter? Ain't it
t'other way about?'

'Very good, sir.' Obediently, with an inward shrug,
thinking: 'I do not care, now. It is a damned underhand, illfavoured,
misbegotten shambles, careless of careers, careless
of life. All I want is to be rid of it, right quick.'

They hired a gig – rather, James hired a gig, while Mr
Hope waited – and drove to Kingshill. Mr Hope waited
outside in the gig, and James went up the shallow steps at the
entrance, between imposing urns, and knocked at the door.
Presently he returned to the gig, shaking his head.

'Sir Robert ain't here, sir. We had better go away at once,
else we shall be seen by those observing the house.'

'D'y'believe there are such observers, do you?' Mr Hope
looked away across the grounds.

'Sir Robert has often said so, and surely he is in a position
to – '

'Candidly, I do not.' Over him. 'It is my belief they are a
contrivance of Sir Robert's, for his own purpose. He is a great
fellow for deception, and concealment, and danger-in-theshadows,
ain't he? It is at the heart of his understanding, and
mode of life. It is the greater part of his power and influence.'

'I expect you are right, sir.' Neutrally, climbing into the
gig.

'However, it don't influence me.' Getting out of the gig,
and flexing a leg. 'I am of a mind to drink something stronger
than fresh air, and eat a biscuit. We'll go in, and enquire.'

'Go in, sir? Sir Robert – '

'Go in, and wait.' Glancing up at the sky, holding out a
hand. 'It is coming on to rain, Mr Hayter, and I will not like
to get wet.'

The day was fine and sunny, with not a cloud in sight.

They went in, were politely if bemusedly received by Sir
Robert's staff, and given refreshment in the library.

'Sir Robert don't do himself 'tall bad, hey?' Mr Hope
strolled round the room, peered at a book or two, looked up
and down at portraits, came to the window and stared out
over the lake. He strolled to the desk, glanced idly at papers,
sat down on a chair, got up again. 'Not wanting in comfort,
here.'

'No, sir.' James stood quietly by the broad mantel, holding
an unsipped glass of wine.

Mr Hope refilled his glass at the tray, stoppered the
decanter, and:

'D'y'think Admiral Hapgood will keep his gob shut?'

'You ask my opinion, sir?' Surprised.

'I do, Mr Hayter.'

'Then – I think it very likely he will.'

'Very good.' A pull of wine. 'And we should say nothing to
Sir Robert, neither.'

'Not tell him that
Pipistrel
is lost?'

'Oh, we must tell him that, certainly. No, I meant – say
nothing of going to the Port Admiral.'

James knew very well that that was what he had meant, but
chose to make Mr Hope uncomfortable.

'Deceive him?'

'It is not deceit, it is not deceit, good heaven. – I don't
know why we went to Admiral Hapgood, now. I was
persuaded against my better instinct.'

'Persuaded, sir?'

'We went together, did not we? It was damned folly. What
bloody business is it of Hapgood's? He ain't party to our
business. No no, Mr Hayter, next time you must endeavour
to be circumspect.'

'I do not quite understand you, Mr Hope.' A frown,
holding his glass halfway to his lips.

'Never mind, never mind.' Drinking off his wine.

James put down his glass untouched, and leaned against the
mantel. The room was cool, almost chill. No fire crackled in
the grate today. A moment or two, and:

'On reflection, sir, I do not know that I am altogether
confident . . .'

'Eh? Confident?'

'That Admiral Hapgood will say nothing. As Port Admiral
he may well decide he must make a written account of what
was said to him, and – '

'Lieutenant Hayter! You will do well not to entertain
fantasy aloud, sir! I will hear no more of bloody Admiral
Hapgood, when failure in our duty stares at us malignant!
D'y'apprehend me!'

'Very good, sir.'

And so their waited for Sir Robert, James having taken out
his bitter discontent on Mr Hope by these several sharp
thrusts. Conversation ceased, and they were left with the slow
ticking of the longcase clock.

Captain Rennie, having made his decision to go away, to
leave everything behind and go away for good – first by going
to Norfolk to settle his private affairs, then by taking ship for
America – had still been resolved to do so when at nearly
dawn his bedroom door was opened. In alarm, believing
himself discovered, he made to defend himself, and:

'Captain Rennie?' Mrs Townend's voice, in the shadowy
darkness.

'Oh, Mrs Townend, you startled me, madam.'

'I did not mean to, dear Captain Rennie. I wished – I
wished only to convey to you . . .'

She came forward to the bed, and Rennie saw that she was
in her nightdress, her hair very fetching in a blue ribbon. She
looked vulnerable, shapely, and entirely feminine.

'Mrs Townend, you are – you are in my bedroom.'

'Yes. Yes, I am here quite deliberate.' Softly. 'I wished you
to know, certainly and beyond – '

'Madam, I am not quite prepared for this.' His voice
curiously unsteady, and hoarse.

'Nor am I in truth, dear William. It has just – happened,
that is all.'

'Happened?'

'There is no use in pretending, when we have both been
wed, and know what life is, dearest.' Coming very close to
him. 'Is there nothing you wish to say to me?'

'I? Say?' Hoarsely.

She touched his hand now, took it in both of her own small,
warm, trembling hands. Before he could think, calmly,
resolutely, sensibly about his condition of life, and all that he
had decided and planned, he was drawn into a soft, intimate
maelstrom of lips, and hands at his head and neck, and
yielding flesh against his harder self. Until he himself
helplessly yielded, and they sank down on the bed together,
and presently, fervently, became one.

Dawn came, and the room slowly filled with light, and a
waft of air came from the window over the pillow. Soon, as
the reality of the world beyond filtered into the room with
the broadening day, they began to talk.

Their voices rose and fell, became passionate and even
vehement in exchange, but were always subdued by the need
for decorum in a shared house. Rennie revealed his plan to go
away to America, and much of the underlying cause of this
extreme design. Mrs Townend was tearful and practical in
turn. They declared their love for each other, and Rennie was
deflected from his intended course, dissuaded of the need to
go away, and persuaded instead that he must stay – not only
to make the best of things, but to improve upon them, upon
all of the life that lay ahead for them both.

'I must go to Sir Robert, and make an ultimatum.' Rennie,
sitting up at last, pulling on his shirt.

'Will it not be best, my love, to make – a suggestion?'

'I must be firm with him, you know. He is not a man to be
influenced by polite supplication.'

'Nay, in course . . . but will not he be better persuaded by
sound reason, argued forthright and decent, by a sea
officer?'

'Well well – put like that . . .' He leaned and kissed her.
'You are right.'

And so as the morning grew late Captain Rennie – feeling
his life, his whole being and way of seeing the world
transformed – had set out from the house in Cambridge Road
towards Kingshill.

He came to the house careless of Sir Robert's watching
enemies, in a gig, saw another gig waiting and was puzzled –
and went in at the entrance.

'Sir Robert ain't at home, sir.' Fender, the servant.

'Ah. Perhaps I will wait – if I may?'

'You may as well, sir. Nearly the whole world is a-doing it
already.'

'Eh?'

'Just step in the library, sir, and you will discover my
meaning.'

Rennie went in there and found Lieutenant Hayter and Mr
Hope.

In the hour following there came in turn recrimination,
indignation, detailed and surprising revelation, and at last the
united determination of three sea officers to face down Sir
Robert Greer, when he deigned to appear. They would
demand that he allow them all of the intelligence, all of the
facts of this vexing, taxing, troubling matter, before they set
foot outside Kingshill again. Never again would they permit
themselves to be made party to half-truth, obfuscation, and
hidden motive. They wished to know all of the truth about
Aidan Faulk, what he was about, and why he was sought.

'The Royal Navy is nothing if not a plain-speaking service,
gentlemen.' Mr Hope, refilling his glass. 'We must have plain
answers in response to plain questions, and Sir Robert is the
only man can properly provide them. We are in accord?'

They drank on it, and thus fortified settled themselves to
wait.

Sir Robert Greer did not return.

They waited all day, with undiminished purpose but
increasing pessimism, Rennie and James talking together, Mr
Hope, fumy with wine, sprawled dozing on a sofa. At dusk he
roused himself, and at first did not know where he was. As he
began to come wholly awake, there was a commotion in the
depth of the house, the alarmed shrieks of the housekeeper,
and then the door of the library was banged open.

'What the devil . . . ?' Mr Hope rose from the sofa as James
and Rennie came forward from the desk. Several figures
strode into the room, two of them manhandling the
struggling Fender, whom they had gagged. The leading
figure wore a blue coat. As Mr Hope stared at him blearily:

'Mr Scott? Is it?'

'Scott? Who is Scott? And who the fucking hell are you,
sir?'

'I am Major Braithwaite, of His Majesty's Board of
Customs – sir. If you are not Mr Scott – which of you two
gentlemen is?' Turning to Rennie and James.

'I am Lieutenant Hayter RN,' said James.

'And I am William Rennie.'

'Come, gentlemen, one of you is Scott. This is his house,
and here you are inside it.'

Mr Hope, recovering his composure: 'You are mistook,
Major Braithwaite, you know. This is Sir Robert Greer's
house, and we are his guests. That poor fellow your men have
apprehended . . .' glancing at the struggling Fender as he was
taken away '. . . is his manservant. Sir Robert will not like it,
on his return, when he discovers you have mistreated
members of his household.'

'The man was obstructive, and violent. He was restrained.
Now then, gentlemen – if you please, let us have no more
obstructive behaviour from yourselves. Which of you is Mr
Scott? I may say that in course you will not be manhandled,
if you give yourself up quietly.'

Mr Hope glanced at Rennie and James, and became wholly
naval in his manner: 'Major Braithwaite, you overreach y'self,
sir. You are in the wrong house, and ye've got the wrong men.
Stand off now, or know the consequence!' Confronting him
squarely, feet planted apart, hands behind his back.

'Bluster will not aid you, Mr Scott. I am placing you under
arrest. Smethers!'

'Sir?' One of the men that had manhandled Fender,
returning to the room.

'You will escort Mr Scott outside to the – '

'Damn your blood, sir!' Mr Hope stepped to James's side,
and drew James's sword from the scabbard with a ringing
hiss. He moved toward Major Braithwaite, the sword
pointed, and: 'You attempt anything against me, and I will
run you through! D'y'hear me!'

'Mr Scott, sir, this is most unwise in you – '

Smethers was joined by another man, and they began to
advance. Rennie now produced from his coat a pocket pistol,
which he cocked and aimed at Smethers.

'You damned fools! Do not y'know that you are about to
arrest His – '

'Be quiet, Rennie!' Mr Hope. 'There is a mistake here. Let
us not add to the confusion.'

Another man now entered the library, a young officer,
brisk and upright in a blue coat. Shutting the door behind
him: 'Major Braithwaite, sir, we have discovered forty-one
casks of brandy in one of the outbuildings, and a great
quantity of tobacco leaf – oh . . .'

'Did y'say brandy?' Mr Hope, to the young officer. He
lowered the sword.

'I did.' Glancing from his commanding officer to Mr Hope
and back, unsure quite what he had walked in on.

'And tobacco, y'said?'
'I did.' Noting the pistol in Rennie's hand, which Rennie
now uncocked.

'In an outbuilding, in the grounds of this house?'

'Yes.'

'What in God's name is going on?'

'We had hoped that you would like to tell us, Mr Scott.'

Major Braithwaite. 'All right, Lucas. Examine all of the
buildings, break down doors if necessary, and make a full list
of everything y'find, will you?'

'You – you do not need my assistance here, sir?' Glancing
again at the sword, and the pistol.

'I do not, thank you. Everything is in hand.'

'Very good, sir.' The young officer retired, doubtful but
obedient, followed by the two underlings. The click of the
door behind them.

'Put up the sword, Mr Scott.' Major Braithwaite sighed,
raising his eyebrows. 'The evidence is plainly there, sir,
ain't it?'

Mr Hope passed the sword to James with a nod of thanks,
and James sheathed it. 'The evidence, as you call it – ' began
Mr Hope, but was interrupted by Rennie, who addressed the
major:

'May I ask – have you a likeness of this Mr Scott you
seek?'

'Eh? Likeness?' Major Braithwaite frowned at him.

'A sketch, a portrait drawing of him.'

'Nay, I haven't.' Curtly.

'He has been described to you, then?'

'Described?' Harshly.

'D'y'know what he
looks like
, sir?'

'In course I do, when he is standing before me!'

Rennie, with exaggerated patience: 'My dear Major
Braithwaite. This is
not
Mr Scott. This is Mr Hope, known to
me and to Lieutenant Hayter. We three are here to meet Sir
Robert
Greer
, in whose library we, and you, are presently
standing. You have made – a
mistake
!'

'Aye!' Mr Hope, emphatically.

'There is no mistake in those outbuildings.' The major's
eye had begun to gleam, and there was a new hardness in the
line of his mouth. 'Contraband, sir. Forty casks of it!'

'We know nothing of contraband, at all.' Mr Hope gave a
confident grimace, and nodded. 'Nor, I am entirely certain,
does Sir Robert. If you have found these things, they have
been hid without his knowledge, by this fellow Scott. A large
house, set far from the road, in extending grounds, and many
outbuildings, barns and the like – it is the ideal place for
concealing such things, without the hapless owner of the
estate knowin' anything about it.'

'I will not be dissuaded by idle argument of this kind, sir.
And you may draw swords, aim pistols, and so forth – but the
house is surrounded by men. I have only to say the word, and
you will be took by force. All of you.' Looking at each in turn.
'Let us have no bloodshed now, if you please.'

The sounds of hooves and wheels without, a further
commotion, a door banged, and a deep, angry voice echoing
through the house. The library door rattled, and Sir Robert
Greer strode in.

'What is the meaning of this disgusting invasion of my
house? Who are you?' Glaring at Major Braithwaite. Then:
'Good God, Rennie, it is you. And Lieutenant Hayter. And
. . . Mr Hope.' His anger becoming surprise.

'Sir Robert, may I present Major Braithwaite, of the Board
of Customs? He – joined us, whilst we was waiting on you.'
Mr Hope, coming forward urbanely. 'Major Braithwaite, Sir
Robert Greer.'

'Sir Robert.' Major Braithwaite bowed.

'Major Braithwaite.' Sir Robert gave him the briefest of
nods. From outside distant shouts, and the stamping and
snorting of horses. Sir Robert glanced away, then: 'What
brings you to Kingshill, sir? Why have you and your men
intruded on my privacy? Where are my servants?'

'Sir Robert, I must say to you at once that a great quantity
of contraband goods has been discovered on your property.'

'Contraband? Here?' With polite contempt, drawling the
words.

'Aye, sir. Here. We have strong reason to believe that a
man named Scott lives here, and – '

'Scott, did y'say?' A frown, looking at the others. Rennie
did not meet his gaze.

'Aye, that is the information in my possession. I am certain
that – '

'And the contraband is – where, exact? In the house?'

'No, sir. Not in the house itself. In an outbuilding – '

'What outbuilding? In which direction?'

'I required my men to search the buildings to the west of
the house – '

'You are aware, I trust, that the many outbuildings beyond
the house, on the western side, attach to a neighbouring
property? Yes?'

Major Braithwaite began, nearly imperceptibly, to lose
confidence. 'You – you are saying they are not your
buildings?'

Sir Robert moved to his desk, laying aside his hat and stick.
He took a pinch of snuff from the silver box on the desk, and:

'Mm. Mm. The neighbouring property, as I thought
y'would have ascertained beforehand, Major Braithwaite . . .'
a black glance '. . . is derelict. The house has been empty these
many years, and the sheds, greenhouses, an aviary, and so
forth, mouldering and decaying, lie contiguous with my own
land. They are nothing to do with Kingshill – excepting in
proximity – nor with me.' He rang a table bell. 'Where are my
servants? I hope that your men have not disturbed them?'

'They – a man was restrained, that was very violent when
we first entered the house. And the woman has been locked
in the kitchen.'

'You have
locked up
my servants?'

'Sir Robert, I can only – I must discover the facts as to the
question of those buildings, sir. If you will excuse me – '

'I will not, sir. I will
not
. You will oblige me by explaining
yourself.'

'Sir Robert, I have my duty to undertake, and I – '

'Your duty is to invade the homes of your betters, is it?'
Lifting his head and staring blackly, bleakly at the major.
'Out of addled, contemptible, snarling underdog spite?
Hey!
'