Watery Grave (21 page)

“Well, they must have done. Yes, over two and a half years, of course I’m sure they did.”

“Of what nature?”

By this time Reverend Egleton sat most uncomfortable in his chair. Beads of sweat stood out upon his domed brow. His lips were pursed in a tight line.

“I’m afraid I cannot answer that.”

“And why not, sir?”

“Because what is said to me in my capacity’ as spiritual adviser should not be repeated. Don’t you see? It is much the same as the seal of the confessional in the Church of Rome.”

“Is it now? But you are not a Roman priest.”

“The principle is the same.”

“There are bishops and theologians who would argue with you on that point, I’m sure. Yet you are a clever fellow. I’m sure you could hold up your end of the debate. But let me press the question, being more specific. Let me put it to you thus: Did the boy who fell to his death — What was his name, by the by?”

“Midshipman Sample.”

“Did Midshipman Sample ever come to you alleging unnatural conduct against him by one of the officers? ‘

“I cannot answer that because it was discussed in confidence.”

“Then it wcu* discussed.”

“I cannot answer that.’

“What about your Midshipman Fowler, whom we have not met but you say is a fine boy? Did he ever come to you with a tale of unnatural liberties taken against him?”

“I cannot answer that.”

“Boone? No, not Boone. He is so much the pet that he must never have complained.” Sir John sighed.” I tell you. Reverend Eagleton, you disappoint me. I should think you would have shouted to the high heavens. I should think you would have gone to that officer and faced him down, called on the Almighty to strike him down. But no,you remained in your cabin and wrote that book of yours, did you not?”

With that, Sir John rose swiftly from his chair and just as swiftly I was at his side to start him toward the door. Yet he held back, not yet ready to leave.

“I did not lie to you, sir. I do have acquaintances in the world of publishing. And I will gladly put in a word for you and your book if you will stand up in Admiralty Court and answer the questions you have refused to answer me. Nay, I will do more than that. It you will name the acts and name the name of the perpetrator, I will see that the book is published, whatever its quality, even if I have to pay the costs myself. Those are my terms — quid pro quo. Nothing more or less. What say you to that, sir?”

The Reverend Mr. Andrew Eagleton had nothing to say to that. He sat with his face averted, his eyes on the window, concentrating on some distant object.

“I thought not,” said Sir John.” But should you change your mind, you will find me at Number Four Bow Street nearby. Good day to you.”

And he was off for the door at a quick step. It was all I could do to catch up and get it open before he crashed through it.

Outside in the piazza, he continued his swift pace, making it difficult for me to keep up. He threw his stick before him in reckless arcs, shouting, “Make way! Make way!” He seemed not to wish my assistance at all. Yet when he had bumped once or twice, he slowed a bit so that I might catch him up.

“Guide me through this, Jeremy,” said he.” My rage is spent, though my anger persists.”

I took him by the elbow, guiding him this way and that, saving him from at least one collision. Thus we proceeded at a more reasonable pace, threading our way through the clusters of buyers and idlers.

“I take it, sir, you will need no report Irom me on his reaction to your questions,” said I.

“Oh no, I read him well enough —a flatterer, ayoung man filled with himself and his ambitions, a moral coward. Not a rare combination oi: qualities, certainly, but seldom are they advertised so plain. He must learn dissimulation. And he will.”

“You baited the hook cleverly,” said I.” He must choose between losing your assistance in getting his book published and standing up in court to give testimony.”

“Jeremy, he would never give testimony willingly in Admiralty Court or any other — not on the matter we discussed. To do so, he must needs reveal himself as the craven wretch he -was at the crisis. But I shall give his name to that dunce Byner. Perhaps a subpoena can be issued.” He paused abruptly, then asked himself, “Does the Admiralty Court even have the power to summon to witness those no longer attached to the Royal Navy? Good God, I must find out. Don’t let me forget, lad.”

“I promise, Sir John.”

We walked on, by now nearly to Russell Street and out of the Garden. The flow of the crowd had eased to the point where I thought it a good time to put to him a question that troubled me.

“Sir John?”

“Yes, Jeremy, what is it?”

“There is something I should like to know. I understand that serving both as chaplain and schoolmaster to the midshipmen, the Reverend Eagleton had a special responsibility to the boys. They were in a sense his charges.”

“That is correct.”

“I understand, too, that when some special harm was done to one or more of them, he evidently sinned by omission in failing to confront the doer of the harm and defending his charges.”

“Yes, by doing nothing he tolerated it, even accommodated it.”

“But what I don’t understand is the specific harm done to them. What is unnatural conduct? What are unnatural liberties?”

He said nothing for a goodly number of steps, then he made an uncertain beginning —clearing his throat, uttering an “uh,” then clearing his throat again.

“Ah, well, yes, ” said he at last, “unnatural conduct is . . , uh … conduct that is not natural. That is to say, well, the Lascar seaman you talked to put it simply but rather well. He said …”

“Yes, sir?”

“Well, you remember what he said. You told me in the hackney coach.”

“Yes sir, but you did not explain it to me.”

“True, Jeremy, I did not, but I shall … in due time. Yes, I will explain it all in due time.”

“Well, is it that —”

“But not now.”

“As you say. Sir John.”

So it was with Sir John Fielding. Some explanations came easily and readily from him. Others came late, if at all. Still others did no more than obscure what they sought to illuminate. I was indeed not hopeful of learning more from him.

Turning from Russell Street onto Bow Street, we walked at a good pace, he having shaken off my hand at his elbow and I once again challenged to keep up with him. We had not gone far until Number 4 was vell within view, and I spied before it a coach-and-four. A little closer and, identifying driver and footman from our journey to Portsmouth, I realized that this was the conveyance of Vice-Admiral Sir Robert Redmond. Of this I informed Sir John, and he gave a deep grunt of satisfaction, though little more in response. Yet when we came abreast of the coach, he seemed to be aware and paused.

“Good day to you, gentlemen,” said he to the coachmen.

They greeted him in kind most respectfully.

“And where is your master? Inside the coach?”

“No sir,” said the footman—petty officer.” He waits you inside your place of business.”

Sir John chuckled at that.” I had never heard it so described, but it will do, it will do. Has he waited long?”

“No doubt longer than he would like, sir. Near half of an hour’s time, I should judge.”

“Thankyou,” said Sir John, and turned away, moving his stick about until he found the right stone, the right step, and finally the correct door of the two that stood side by side giving separate entrances to the building. His capabilities often amazed me still.

The one he had chosen led back to the strong room, where the day’s harvest of offenders awaited their appearance in court. Mr. Fuller was there, keeping order among them, and so was Mr. Marsden, who was preparing the docket for Sir John, and so, finally, was Vice-Admiral Redmond.

He was in full-dress uniform, a sword at his side, pacing in such a way that his back was to us as we entered. His manner betrayed impatience.

“If he has waited this long,” said Sir John to me, “then it must be something of importance he wished to discuss. And that, my lad, is good, for I have much that is important to discuss with him.”

Then came the admiral bustling toward us, all red-faced from his exertions.

“Jack,” said he, “where have you been? We must talk.”

“Good, Bobbie. Where I have been is one of a number of matters I wish to talk to you about. Into my chambers, shall we? It’s that door just ahead.”

Yet Sir John held back, took me aside, and whispered in my ear.

“You recall, Jeremy, that you put yourself and Tom forward to search tor our witness, Tobias Trindle? The time has come to look in earnest. Stay out as long as you must, but find him. Now get Tom and go.”

It had been over a year since I had been inside the grand house on St. James Street that had formerly been the London residence of Lord Goodhope. It had been transferred grudgingly, though out of necessity, by his widow to Mr. John Bilbo, the somewhat notorious proprietor of London’s most fashionable gaming house, in settlement of her late husband’s gambling debts. Tom Durham had been there recently, taken by Jimmie Bunkins to meet his master, the dark, black-bearded man rumored to have once been a pirate and known to one and all as Black Jack. Tom came back quite taken with the man, as all seem to be, even and including Sir John Fielding, who with some slight reluctance counts him as a friend. The house on St. James Street had awed Tom, as well. Yet his description of its interior was so inexact I could get no sense of how it had been changed —though changed I knew it surely had been.

It was none other than Jimmie Bunkins himself who answered the door when Tom, decked out in his shore duds, banged hard upon it with the brass knocker. Black Jack Bilbo kept no servants, as I knew from Bunkins, except a cooking staff, a server, and two coachmen. Instead, he housed a few of those in his employ at his gaming house; they were expected to work for their keep, so whoever was nearest when a knock came upon the door was at that moment appointed butler. Thus was Bunkins nearest.

“Well,” said he, “if it ain’t me two old rum chums! Entrez voiu! That’s Frenchie talk which I am learning from a Frenchie lady who dorses here.”

He pushed the heavy, oaken door shut after us.

“What’s the word? You two look right queer, you do.”

“It’s a queer matter, Jimmie B.,” said Tom.” We’ve got us a hard lock.”

“We’re looking for a witness, ” said I.

“Ah, Beak business! Best tell me plain and see can I help.”

And so, as shortly and quickly as I was able, I laid out before him the task given us by Sir John. I told him of Mr. Landon’s situation; that he stood accused by Mr. Hartsell, who was the only witness against him, but that we had learned of another who had seen it all and could speak in Lieutenant Landon’s defense.

“He’s an old salt sailor,” put in Tom, “and sure to be out on a tear for as long as he’s got bobstick to his name. Where would he be, my Jimmie B.?”

“Why, in some stew or dive on the river beyond London Bridge, taking a flash of lightning with his mates, t’be sure.”

“You know the where of it?”

“I know the lay near as good as I know Covent Garden. I filched many a guinea and napped many a bob from sleeping sailors in the gutter thereabouts. You know the cull by sight, Tom?”

“I know him well.”

“Then I can help —but I must first ask the cove of the ken. Come along, you two. He’d want to see you both.”

And so we followed Bunkins down the hall which I remembered well from my earlier visits to the house. How different it seemed! Walls that were painted white were now a deep gold yellow. Over the fireplace which was situated midway down the long way was a painting of a Venus, all lush and pink, with an attendant Cupid. I thought to give it closer study yet saw that this was not the proper moment.

Then to the library wherein the Goodhope affair had got its beginning. Bunkins knocked stoutly upon the door and waited right patiently until a familiar rough voice from beyond barked out an invitation to enter. Once inside, I found that it was a library no longer, though there were indeed a few books about. The shelves had been removed, the walls painted a light blue, and the room had been converted into a picture gallery of sorts. Nautical pictures and prints were everywhere the eye might look —the prints hung in sets, the paintings large upon the wall. There were more pieces of furniture about the room than I recalled, but, as before, the large desk dominated all else, perhaps Lord Goodhope’s same desk, and behind it sat the master of the house, “the cove of the ken,” Black Jack Bilbo. He rose and beckoned.

“Well, come in, come in, all of you —and if it isn’t my old friend Jeremy! Come forward and let me have a look. You’ve grown an inch or two, I swear. How long has it been?”

“Near a year, Mr. Bilbo. ‘Twas at the little wedding party when last v/e met. ‘

“So it was, ” said he.” Sir John I have seen here and about. We’ve dined together once or twice — but you … a year, you say!”

“Yes sir, nearly that.”

“And Mr. Durham, I’m glad to see you’ve returned in such good company. Always welcome here, both of you. Now, what can I do for you lads?”

“I came seekin’ permission to go with them, sir,” said Jimmie Bun-kins ever so politely.

“Go with them where, young sir?”

“Down to the places on the river where the drunken sailors is to be found.”

“What?” roared Black Jack, who could truly roar when it suited him.” Have I not spent a year of my life trying to keep you from such places? And now you wish to return to your old haunts to corrupt these two good lads?”

“Oh, no sir,” said Bunkins.” You misunderstand, sir. They’re searchin’ a witness off Tom’s ship, the
Adventure
. They asked me help to show them where to look. I, uh, know the territory from, uh, earlier days.”

“I see. Well … perhaps I should know a little more about this. Pull those chairs over and seat yourselves. Jeremy, suppose you tell me what you can of this matter.”

We did as he bade us, and once settled, I retold the tale and at greater length than before. At one point Tom interrupted to testify how much liked and respected was Mr. Landon by the crew. But then I went on to describe Sir John’s interrogation of Mr. MacNaughton in Portsmouth and how he had mentioned in passing the name of one who during that fearful storm had witnessed the fall of the captain into the sea and Mr. Landon s efforts to save him.