Troubled Waters Read online

  "Captain Lewrie," Twigg said, right-snappishly, when it appeared that he'd have to wait 'til Epiphany for Lewrie to make up his mind. "I believe there are matters of the greatest import which I, Mister Sadler, and Sir Hugo need to discuss with you. Mistress Lewrie, might I implore your kind indulgence? Half an hour, perhaps but a single hour, at the utmost, I assure you, dear lady." For Caroline, Twigg came over all cooing and gracious, delivering an over-formal bow with a hand on his chest.

  "Oh, do what you wish with him!" Caroline snapped, bestowing on Lewrie a very frosty glare, heaving a dramatic sigh of resignation, and narrowing her eyes. She spun on her heels to leave, stiffly bound up the stairs.

  Ouch! Lewrie thought, for officers and Midshipmen off both warships had trooped back into the dining room for a last pocketful from the leftovers, for later, or to take a last celebratory glass of spirits down to "heel-taps," and had witnessed that little contretemps.

  "Mister Adair, I will see you and the rest back aboard ship, sir . . . gentlemen," he said to dismiss his people, then made awkward good-byes to those off HMS Orpheus, who followed his own out the doors, some much worse for wear, "short-tacking" for the piers "three sheets to the wind." Thankfully, Langlie's parents had already departed for their lodgings, for a lie-down, and an easing of corsets or shoes. "Go with your mother, children," Lewrie bade his offspring. "Navy work."

  "I've my own rooms at the Black Spread Eagle," Twigg said, once they were relatively alone. "My coach is waiting. Let us all repair there. With any luck at all, our own business shall be done well before dark, so Mister Sadler may coach to Brighton and speak with Commander Langlie tomorrow, after their first night of connubial bliss and a very late breakfast, hmm?" he suggested with a leer.

  "Just how bad is it?" Lewrie had to ask, sounding as if musing more on his wife's chilly departure statement, instead.

  "The Beaumans, and their entourage, are landed in London, and are hot after your immediate arrest, sir," Twigg bluntly told him, but with a rarely heard tinge of sympathy in his voice. "We must put our heads together to determine the best course of action. Let us go."

  * * * *

  Once they were in Twigg's lodgings, a bottle of brandy made an immediate appearance, and a vital contribution towards calmness for every set of frazzled nerves, Lewrie's most especially. They seated themselves on the hard settees and half-sprung chairs near the tiny fireplace, with the bottle and extra glasses on a side-table dragged up between them.

  "Now, Mister Sadler," Twigg began, "what does your employer say of this development?"

  "It was expected, Mister Twigg," Sadler said with a grim nod of his head. "Mister MacDougall was certain that they would not be satisfied with a ruling from Jamaican courts, and must pursue the sentence of death in absentia in King's Bench, here, to obtain what passes for justice. Mister MacDougall, of course, has already made strenuous effort to deter the Beaumans' case from appearing on this Law Term's docket, hence delaying any need for Captain Lewrie to be taken up and put in prison. You know of the Law Terms, sirs?"

  "No," from Lewrie; an abrupt nod from Twigg; a certain shifty look from Sir Hugo; and, from Burgess Chiswick, who had joined them at the last second, a cocked head and a negative shake.

  "There are four official Law Terms each calendar year, sirs," Mr. Sadler solemnly explained, "when Court Sessions are held. There is Hilary Term, which begins in January . . . Easter Term, which is sat just after Easter, and is self-explanatory. We are now in the Trinity Term, which began on Whitsunday, and which will continue to try cases 'til late autumn, and, thankfully for the good Captain here, is full."

  "Well, right then!" Burgess exclaimed, as if it was all over.

  "Lastly, there is Michaelmas Term, which begins in October, and does not conclude 'til Christmas, sirs," Sadler continued in the same tones, ignoring the enthusiastic interruption. "Trinity Term is also the time when the Lord Justices remove themselves to the major cities of each shire to conduct trials of those imprisoned for major crimes beyond the scope of local magistrates."

  "So, the Lord Justices are now away?" Lewrie puzzled. "In that case, who sits in London while they're gone? And, who could doom me to hanging on the strength of the Beaumans' lying packet?"

  "Magistrates, mostly, sir," Sadler told him, shifting about to face him. "Though, at least one or two Lord Justices who do not care for protracted stays in the countryside remain."

  "And, do the Beaumans lay their case before one of them, Alan here gets taken up and slung into gaol 'til. . . ?" Burgess asked.

  "One of the remaining Lord Justices would be perfectly capable of accepting the transcript and verdict of the Jamaica court," Sadler informed him, turning in his chair again, "and pronouncing sentence, Mister Chiswick."

  "Upholding a travesty of justice?" Sir Hugo all but yelped.

  "That is why my employer, Mister MacDougall, was so eager to lay hands on a copy of the transcript, Sir Hugo," Sadler said with a prim pride, though having to swivel to face yet another interlocutor, "as well as receiving an affidavit from the Jamaican barrister who represented Captain Lewrie during that sham of a trial. An affidavit which was obtained by Mister James Peel of the Foreign Office at Kingston, and the deposition performed by Lord Balcarres's . . . the island's Governor-General's . . . personal attorney, one Mister Johnathon Porter, Esquire, a most respected member of the bar, and formerly King's Counsel from Temple Bar, before accepting Lord Balcarres's offer of employment overseas. Trust me, gentlemen," Sadler said, spreading his hands, and letting a wee smile cross his solemn, at-work features. "Every Lord Justice in the land has dealt with Mister Porter, and hold him in the highest esteem.

  "It does not harm our cause, either," Sadler continued, turning just a big smug, "that both Mister Peel and Mister Porter had the deposition transcribed to papers bearing the Governor-General's seal and letterhead, copies of which Mister MacDougall already has in hand, and stands ready to lay them before any Lord Justice who may adjudge the matter. Such imprint, sirs, while not bearing Lord Balcarres's signature, will go a long way towards lending a taint of official, though tacit, displeasure with the conduct of the Jamaica trial."

  "And what did this local barrister have t'say for himself 'bout the matter?" Burgess pressed.

  "Why, that he was hired on by the Court, dredged up from taking a pint or two of mild in a tavern close by, Mister Chiswick," Sadler said with what almost approached a sly snicker, "given less than ten minutes to familiarise himself with the charges and the identity of his absent client, and was unable to present much beyond apro forma defence. Poor Mister Pruett, a new-come to the Jamaica bar, about as unschooled as they come, sirs! Poor in abilities, I should suspect, as well as pelf, and only paid his honorarium months later, after persistent dunning of the local court system for his meagre thirty pounds.

  "And, that miserly honorarium, gentlemen," Sadler said with an air of gleeful triumph, "was finally paid by Mister Hugh Beauman 's local attorney, in part, at least, since the local Justices didn't deem Pruett's services worth even such a low amount!"

  "Why, that's . . . that's . . . !" Lewrie spluttered, jerking erect from his dismal slump in a hard chair so quick that he spilled a bit of brandy on his waist-coat.

  "Evidence of a criminal collusion 'twixt prosecuting barrister and defence barrister so vile that poor Mister Pruett could be brought up on charges, and slung into prison himself," Sadler crowed. "Loss of membership in the bar, at the very least. Both of them, really . . . Pruett, and Beauman's barrister, Mister George Cotton."

  "And he said that in his deposition, Mister Sadler?" Sir Hugo chortled, rocking back and forth with excitement on his chair.

  "Indeed he did, Sir Hugo, sir," Sadler exulted. "My employer believes that Pruett's presence at any trial, or delaying evidentiary hearing, is so important to Captain Lewrie's defence that he wrote to Mister Peel, along with a sum of money, to see to it that Pruett must take passage to England, and be lodged in London until such time that he testify in person
, exposing how one-sidedly was the trial conducted, how scanty were his chances to present a credible defence, and what a travesty was the whole affair, sirs!"

  "Right, then!" Burgess erupted. "Huzzah! A glass with you, Mister Sadler . . . and a glass with you, next, Alan old son!"

  "Toast. . . toast!" Sir Hugo insisted. "Top up your glasses, so we may make a double toast! To the poor Mister Pruett of Jamacia, and the sagacious Mister Andrew MacDougall, Esquire!"

  He's t'have room, board and spirits on my purse? Lewrie thought, utterly appalled at how eager other people were to spend his money, even on his own behalf. Recalling how lavishly MacDougall and Sadler had already regaled themselves at his expense, he didn't know whether to laugh with relief, or weep in fear of future poverty.

  After that gala toast, though, Mr. Sadler shyly called for their attention for a bit longer, for he had more to relate.

  "Mister MacDougall, sirs, has already ascertained who it will be who prosecutes the Beaumans' case, as well," Sadler said in sober takings. "Evidently, their Mister Cotton on Jamaica had written their London solicitor and agent before taking ship, whom they authorised to engage a barrister upon his own judgement and recommendation, to speed things along whilst they made their sailing arrangements."

  "Who is the bastard?" Sir Hugo snarled.

  "Sir George Norman, K.C., sirs," Sadler informed them. "He is also a member of Grey's Inn, as is Mister MacDougall. Very well known at the bar. And, to Mister MacDougall, too, so . . ."

  "Ain't that. . . illegal, or something?" Sir Hugo asked, snorting in disbelief. "Mean t'say . . . !"

  "Not at all, Sir Hugo . . . gentlemen!" Sadler quickly responded with a prim dislike for the honourable conduct of members of the bar to be questioned. "One might as well question the validity of two former students of Cambridge opposing each other, of two congregants of the same church parish, or—"

  "It happens all the time, Sir Hugo," Twigg, sitting and listening silently for the most part, assured the nettled old fellow, giving him a calming pat on the arm. "One must remember that both MacDougall and this Norman fellow gain their livelihood from their successes for their clients, and their best interests. Ain't that so, Sadler?"

  "Indeed, Mister Twigg."

  "Their livelihoods, and their reputes, rather," Twigg went on, leaning back in the padded armchair he had appropriated as if musing. "Lose a prominent case, and one's repute is diminished. As is their ability to attract clients, or stick in the mind of solicitors, who engage them."

  "Oh," Burgess Chiswick commented, seeing the light. "I should think their pride suffers, too. How important and brilliant others in their line o' work think 'em . . . how shameful a loss would be to their souls?"

  "Exactly so, Mister Chiswick," Sadler said, taking charge of the conversation once more. "A man recognised as King's Counsel, or barrister, might be engaged to prosecute one time, defend another . . . so, for all those reasons which you and Mister Twigg have laid out, it would be impossible, and a grave offence 'gainst the dignity of law, and their personal sacred honour, to collude. Sir George Norman 'ate his terms' the requisite three years at Grey's Inn, and was called to the bar three years before my employer applied, and Mister MacDougall was still a special pleader and writer when Sir George was made King's Counsel. They are not colleagues, in the familiar sense, gentlemen."

  "Don't sup t'gether?" a dubious Sir Hugo asked. "Shoot, fish, go on country retreats with each other?"

  "Sir George and Mister MacDougall do not socialise at all, Sir Hugo," Sadler could say with confidence, and a certain sly humour. "I do not think that such would be possible, in point of fact, for, ah . . . well, Sir George holds rather low opinion of Scots, or anyone who has risen from beneath his own class, in general. Sir George's father is Viscount Selby, his elder brother a Baron, and Sir George, I should have said, is Sir George Norman, Baronet. . . long before he attained the honourific of King's Counsel, and became a Bencher in Grey's Inn."

  "Aha!" Twigg said, with a derisive bark. "What our man here, Captain Lewrie, might nautically term a 'top-lofty,' is he?"

  "The 'top-loftiest,' Mister Twigg," Sadler said, snickering a trifle.

  "Reckoned a capable man?" Lewrie had to ask, so he could know his odds, and his opponent.

  "At some things, Captain Lewrie," Sadler replied, tapping his nose. "Sir George did a few terms at Oxford, to no special honours earned . . . no Blues won, d'ye see. Mister MacDougall heard a lot of him during his early years at Grey's Inn . . . for Sir George dined in diligently, and was reputed to toady diligently with the Benchers of the time, but. . . without much in the way of proper legal study. Sir George's family is close friends and cater-cousins to a great many at the law, though, and . . . one might charitably say that he was called to the bar more on the strength of his connexions than his abilities.

  "Do not mistake my meaning, gentlemen . . . Captain Lewrie," Mr. Sadler gravely cautioned. "Sir George Norman is not a fool, nor easy to outwit in court. He is not an opponent to dismiss, or underestimate . . . though . . . ," he said, looking as if he wished he could chew on a thumbnail in such company.

  "Though what?" Burgess prompted, impatient and intrigued.

  "Well, Sir George has done rather a lot of cases in the Court of Common Pleas, for rather well-connected clients from his own social set, and the peerage. One case in Chancery Court, a most convoluted and intricate affair of inheritances, multiple wills, the upkeep for distraught and penniless heirs during its slow procession through the courts, has been so lucrative, and protracted, that no one doubts it will outlast Sir George's lifetime, and keep him independently wealthy apart from what his own family might settle upon him!"

  "He hasn't tried cases in King's Bench, then?" Twigg posed with a frown on his face, his spidery long fingers flexing on his glass.

  "Oh, many, sir!" Sadler countered. "For those accused who may meet his honorarium, or who have family and friends who may have the wherewithal to support their kinsman's, or friend's, cause. Not that often on the defence, mind you, gentlemen. Mister MacDougall says he suspects that placing one's reputation at risk, should he lose, might not suit Sir George's cautious nature. No, he has been engaged most often to prosecute, and has an estimable record of success at it. As Mister MacDougall says, though, most of those were open-and-shut cases with but little doubt of the accused's guilt, nor the outcome of the proceedings."

  "I see," Twigg said slowly, drawing out the phrase, and with a sly grin spreading on his skeletal face, thin lips drawn upward. "And, after seeing Captain Lewrie's name featured so prominently in the newspapers, perhaps even in some of those Abolitionist Society tracts, and such, he scented a chance to shine in a most prestigious case, certain that the fame resulting from the successful prosecution of a well-known figure would polish his repute to a high gloss, aha!"

  "And, if he read the transcript, and took the Beaumans' lies as Gospel Truth . . . !" Lewrie exclaimed, snatching at sudden hope, after a dismal few hours.

  ". . . not realising how despicably and shamefully the Beaumans cheated, and colluded . . . !" Burgess, ever a staunch ally, cried in like glee. "Why, it must've looked as easy as a stroll in Hyde Park! And, thousands of pounds in his bank account for two hours' work, to boot!"

  "Yayss," Mr. Twigg drawled, "for I am sure that the solicitor who engaged him for the Beaumans made known to him how King Croesus—wealthy the Beaumans are, and how large an honorarium he could demand."

  "Mister MacDougall, sirs, is confident that Sir George is not yet cognisant of how weak his case really is," Sadler stated, "nor how colourable is the testimony, and the veracity of the witnesses quoted in that transcript. Mister MacDougall said for me to tell you, Captain Lewrie, and I quote, 'that, forearmed as we now are, I fully expect to eat Sir George Norman, and the Beaumans, alive, in court.'"

  "Thank bloody Christ!" Lewrie breathed, ready to leap to his feet, raise his arms in victory, and perform a spastic dance around the room!

  "That is why your pre
sence in London is urgently necessary, sir," Sadler went on, pouring cold water on that wee horn-pipe of joy.

  "D'ye mean, now the Beaumans are in England, we're goin' t'court right now?" Lewrie spluttered, visibly paling a trifle, and with a sinking feeling under his heart. "Tomorrow, or . . . ?"

  "Oh no, sir!" Sadler countered, his attempt at a sympathetic and reassuring smile more of a leer at clients' ignorance of the law, than anything else. "As I said earlier, the Michaelmas Term, in October, is the earliest we may expect. No, this would be more in the way of an evidentiary hearing, a preliminary, to stave off the prosecution. My employer wishes you to be in London no later than day after tomorrow . . . in your best fig, he told me to tell you, Captain Lewrie. Best of your uniforms . . . I'd suppose today's, for the wedding, will suffice. Though, ah . . . ," Sadler cautioned with an "ahem," and a cough into his fist, "perhaps it might be best did you coach up in civilian clothes."

  "In mufti," Lewrie's father said with a knowing nod, and a bit of Hindee slang. "So any bazaari badmashes the Beaumans might have hired don't recognise him, aha."

  "Surely, you do not imagine that any English gentleman, even if reared in the Colonies, would stoop to violence, or murder, sir!" Mr. Sadler gasped. "The Law grinds slow, but fine, and to go outside of the Rule of Law would be . . ."

  "Revenge is the reason for half the murders, Mister Sadler, and yes, dignified, home-grown English gentlemen do it all the time," Mr. Twigg harshly told the naive Sadler (and he should know what he was talking about, after all his deeds and experiences!). "Or, they hire on bully-bucks, so their own hands stay clean."

  "Ye don't know the Beaumans, if ye think they're civilised. I was ordered out of port after Kit Cashman shot Hugh Beauman's brother, and I shot his cousin," Lewrie sourly commented. "Else, I'd have ended up dead in a dark Kingston alley, with my throat slit, a second duel for revenge bedamned. They're vicious brutes, for all the money, land, and slaves they own . . . English-born or not."

  "The high-handedness of Lewrie's trial, Mister Sadler," Mister Twigg archly said, "as if they own the courts on Jamaica? If they may present such calumnies in a court of law, so prideful as to think they may get away with anything so fraudulent, should be proof enough for you as to what innate English respect they hold for the Rule of Law, and how unscrupulous, and dangerous, the Beaumans may be when rowed beyond all temperance."