An Ill Wind (22 page)

‘Stop calling me laddie!’

‘And I doubt many do, but old Hood seems to have done so, and we require you to aid him in return.’ Dundas held up the letter. ‘You see, boy, we had already read this letter before you ever came through that door.’

‘How in the name of—?’

‘You’re not, I hope, with an atheist for a father, going to invoke God. It was copied, and that must have been when it was in your possession.’

Stunned, John Pearce could not reply, and it was obvious from his expression he was wondering when, even if he was less doubtful about the whom.

‘It was then shown to the Duke of Portland,’ Pitt continued, ‘and he, knowing it would embarrass us, passed it on. The trouble is, with all these complaints about Hotham out in the open, and the Duke of Portland knowing we are dependent on his support, Lord Hood is vulnerable and he needs to be told that is the case, but with discretion.’

‘You’re not asking me to act as your messenger again?’

‘There you go, Billy,’ Dundas cried, slapping the table hard. ‘I told you he would smoke your wiles.’

‘Naturally, we would not expect you to do this without reward,’ Pitt said, looking piqued.

‘The case against Barclay!’ Pitt nodded and that air of being found out changed to a smile. ‘What has changed in the last fifteen minutes? You were sure it was impossible then.’

‘No, Lieutenant Pearce,’ Pitt replied, using his rank for the first time, which did not go unnoticed by the recipient. ‘I told you I was not prepared to pursue it, but it has become plain to me I need your services once more and I am not fool enough to seek them without payment.’

‘I think we should be honest with you, Pearce,’ Dundas lied, ‘it will not be easy. We must proceed with care, for the slightest hint of our aim will bring about the very situation we are seeking to avoid and block for ever any hope you have of redress.’

‘But with a fair wind and us at your back,’ Pitt hinted.

A hoot came from Dundas. ‘Damn me, Billy, a nautical simile.’

Throughout the conversation John Pearce’s mind had been racing: he did not trust these two one little bit – they might be truthful in what they were saying or they might not – but with that set of papers at the bottom of the sea the answer to his problem did not lie here in London, it lay back out there in the Mediterranean. There was also the knowledge, which he had been gnawing at for some time, of his own lack of prospects, as well as that of his companions. While he could not decide for them, he could for himself and aid them in the process.

‘I agree, with conditions.’ Pearce enjoyed the way
the two politicians reacted, as though they had just discovered someone had stolen their watch. ‘I require two warrants for arrest squashed and three protections from impressments guaranteed by you.’

‘The Admiralty issues those,’ Dundas protested.

‘They will grant them quickly on your demand. I also wish to choose the vessel on which I travel.’

‘You pose a stiff price.’

‘Take it or leave it.’

Pitt was walking again, head down in a brown study and moving from side to side.

‘Billy,’ Dundas said, only to be silenced by a raised hand.

‘I agree,’ Pitt said eventually. ‘Leave the details, the names and crimes, with my clerk and call upon me tomorrow, and let us hope, Mr Pearce, that what we are about works out for the best.’

John Pearce nodded and left, leaving the two politicians looking at each other for several seconds until they were sure the sound of footsteps had faded. Then they burst out laughing, Dundas filling their glasses with yet more claret, both then raised in a silent toast.

‘That was easier than I thought,’ said Dundas. ‘We should get hold of Sheridan and ask to appear at Drury Lane.’

Eventually, having taken a deep drink, William Pitt replied, ‘If only our political opponents were as biddable as Lieutenant John Pearce, life would be so much easier.’

D
AVID
D
ONACHIE
was born in Edinburgh in 1944. He has always had an abiding interest in the naval history of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries as well as the Roman Republic, and, under the pen-name of Jack Ludlow, has published a number of historical adventure novels. David lives in Deal with his partner, the novelist Sarah Grazebrook.

T
HE
J
OHN
P
EARCE SERIES

By the Mast Divided

A Shot Rolling Ship

An Awkward Commission

A Flag of Truce

The Admirals’ Game

An Ill Wind

Blown Off Course

Enemies at Every Turn

A Sea of Troubles

Written as Jack Ludlow

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