Betina Krahn (42 page)

“Short of storming the place with troops, we can’t release them without legal intervention,” he said. “Bentley will just call in the constables.”

“Lawyers require money,” the reverend said, his eyes widening.

“Money isn’t a problem,” Titus said firmly.

“But time is. And court judgments require weeks,” Celeste said.

“Sometimes years,” the reverend put in.

“Anyone know a solicitor or a justice?” the brigadier said. “Knew a fellow who had been at Temple before he was forced to join the army. Cashed it in at a skirmish in India. Good chap. He’d have taken it up for us.”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Titus said, stroking his chin. “The father of one of my former students sits on the bench in the criminal courts. Sir Charles Tweetum, a sensible and reasonable fellow. His son was one of my outstanding pupils. I know that justices can issue ‘bench orders’ in some cases … perhaps he can make Bentley release them. At the very least he could tell us how to proceed. What time is it?”

The brigadier pulled out his timepiece and declared, “Just past noon.”

“We’ll have to hurry—the courts will be dismissing for dinner. Perhaps we can catch him before he leaves.” He rose, pulling Celeste up.

“What about Prospero and Ariel?” she asked. “They need help
now.”

“We’ll take care of that,” Lady Sophia said, gesturing to her Atlanteans. “We’ll get some fresh fish and smuggle it inside the exhibit … keep an eye on them … make certain they’re at least fed.” When she saw Titus’s frown, the old lady smiled. “We’ll change our clothes.
And
we’ll buy tickets this time. They won’t recognize us.”

Thinking that was doubtful, but in no position to argue, Titus grabbed Celeste’s hand and headed for the doors. In moments they were in a cab, racing toward the Strand.

The Courts of Justice had indeed just recessed for dinner. The corridors of the court building were clogged with solicitors, litigants, witnesses, spectators, and sundry hangers-on. Titus and Celeste had to negotiate the virtual tide of humanity that was heading for the exits.

“Where can we find Sir Charles Tweetum?” Titus asked a uniformed bailiff. “It is a most urgent matter.”

The bailiff looked from Titus’s harried expression to Celeste’s anxious face. “Ye’ll have to go round to the side door where the justices come an’ go t’ their chambers … see if ye can get ‘im a message thru there.”

After thanking him, they got directions to the justices’ entrance and hurried around the block. At first, there was no response to their repeated knocks on the door. Finally, a pallid, clerkish fellow appeared and scowled at their request to see Justice Sir Charles Tweetum.

“The justices don’t see people in chambers.”

The door closed and just as Titus was preparing to knock again, it reopened and two well-dressed gentlemen exited. “Pardon, but could you tell me if Justice Sir Charles Tweetum is still inside? We’ve come on a matter of … family business … and the clerk won’t admit us.”

“Tweetum?” One gentleman looked Titus and Celeste over, assessing the urgency in their faces as he donned his gloves. “Tweetum is often here through the dinner recess.” He glanced at the other gentleman, who shrugged.

“Come with me, I’ll show you to his chambers. This will only take a minute,” he told his companion. “Hold the carriage.”

Sir Charles was indeed in his chambers, but he was putting on his coat, preparing to go to dinner. He looked up with a frown.

“Sir Charles, you may not remember me,” Titus said, removing his hat, “but I am Titus Thorne … I was your son’s tutor in the natural sciences at Oxford. I was a guest at your country house in Coventry.”

The justice’s studious, bespectacled face brightened with recognition. “Ah, yes. So you were. Quite a surprise, seeing you here, Professor.”

“I would never presume upon you in ordinary circumstances. But this is no ordinary matter and there is no time to lose. Lives are at stake.”

“Lives?” Sir Charles looked questioningly from Titus to Celeste.

“Permit me to introduce Miss Celeste Ashton, the author of
The Secret Life of Dolphins.”

The justice took her hand, obviously bemused.

“You may recall,” Titus prompted, “she is the young woman who has befriended and studied dolphins in the wild.”

“Oh,
this
is the one.” The justice stared at her in surprised admiration. “Well, it is little wonder they call you ‘the Lady Mermaid.’ ”

“Please, Sir Charles,” she said anxiously, “we need your help. Two of my dolphins have been stolen and put on exhibit here in London. They’re ill and are being kept in intolerable conditions. Unless we do something soon to release them, I’m afraid they will die.”

The justice scowled. “Dolphins? I know nothing about seagoing matters. My area is the criminal courts. I doubt I could be of much help to you, Miss Ashton.”

“We have nowhere else to turn on such short notice, Sir Charles,” Titus said. “We were hoping perhaps you could
issue an order … make the wretch turn the dolphins over to Miss Ashton so that she could get them back into their rightful environment.”

Sir Charles went back to his desk and waved them into the pair of chairs set before it. “Well, if the creatures were stolen … perhaps I could consider it a case of common theft.” He templed his fingers and turned a thoughtful look on Celeste. “Do you have papers of some sort … bills of sale, cargo manifests, breeding papers, titles of some sort … showing your ownership of these animals?”

“No, not really,” she said, frowning, looking at Titus. “I mean, I befriended them and they adopted me. What sort of ‘papers’ would there be?”

“Hmmm.” Sir Charles tried another tack. “Then what about ownership markings … brands or ear notches, that sort of thing? Have you marked them physically, in any way, as belonging to you?”

“N-no.” His questions brought home to her the enormity of the difference between her love and respect for the creatures of the sea and the rest of society’s expectation that the sea life was to be captured, branded, owned, and disposed of as suited human whims.

“Then you have no real proof that they belong to you?”

“There never was any need for proof. These are intelligent creatures, Your Honor.” She felt her heart sinking under the weight of her new insight. “In truth, they probably don’t belong to me, either. Or to anyone but themselves.”

“Miss Ashton trained and cared for these dolphins over a period of years, Your Honor,” Titus put in. “I was sent by the royal societies to confirm her work and can attest that she did indeed train and observe and care for them. Surely that has to give her a prior claim of ownership to them in common law … in much the same way that the law recognizes common law rights in ownership, inheritance, and marriage. It isn’t a matter of papers and registration, but of fact of belonging. These dolphins recognize Miss Ashton as
their mistress. They come to her call, they perform tricks for her, and they return to her cove year after year in summer.”

“Hmmm.” Sir Charles rose and went to his shelf, searched the spines of leather-bound tomes, and pulled down a heavy volume. He looked up several references, pacing as he read. Then he rubbed his chin and came back to his seat behind the desk.

“The rule of common law has been infused into our statutes, but not always in ways one would expect. Possession, as it is often said, is nine-tenths of the law. In disputations arising over property, with no refuting evidence of ownership, whoever has possession of the property in question is given the benefit of the doubt. If this party has your dolphins, where did he get them? Did he encroach on your home or lodgings to take them from you?”

Property. Her dolphins were now considered
property
. Celeste felt a huge emptiness opening inside her. “He claims to have caught them in the bay outside my cove. There was an accident and one of the dolphins was hurt and they all withdrew into the bay. They were gone for several days or so before they returned. He must have taken them then.”

“So, he caught them in open water.” Sir Charles sighed and lifted up the book in his hand. “It’s been quite a while since I read maritime law. But apparently the statutes haven’t changed. If they were in open water, then they are subject to maritime law. And maritime law makes very clear distinctions in such matters. Any fish that is lashed or tethered to a ship in any way is considered a ‘fast fish’ … property of that ship and company. Any untethered, unlashed fish, swimming in the ocean is considered a ‘free fish’ and is fair game for capture.”

“But these aren’t
fish
, they’re mammals … intelligent creatures with a language and a society of their own,” she said passionately, coming to the edge of her seat. “They aren’t just any sea creature. Fishermen don’t hunt them … they’re not sold in fish markets as food … whalers don’t even take them.”

The justice shook his head sadly. “I’m sorry, but that is the statute. The law doesn’t differentiate between fish and mammals … both are considered game. You have no proof of your prior claim to them, Miss Ashton, and that means there is no basis in law for removing them from their present owner. I am very sorry.” He did indeed look pained. “If you like, I can speak with my colleagues this evening … we’re having a Law Society dinner. I cannot hold out much hope, but I can ask their opinions. Perhaps if you come back tomorrow morning …”

Celeste heard Titus ask something about Sir Charles’s son and the justice respond that he was in London just now, and staying at a club of some sort. He encouraged Titus to pay his son a call, saying that William would love to see him. When Titus and Sir Charles rose, Celeste pushed up from her chair, too. She managed a polite nod when the justice came around the desk to take her hand. As she and Titus wound their way to the street, she slipped her hand in his and told herself they would find a way … legal or not.

I
N THE LOBBY
of the Bolton Arms, Lady Sophia, the brigadier, and Hiram Bass sat brooding over the deepening muddle of their prophecy-gone-awry.

“Jus’ seems t’ go from bad to worse,” Hiram said, shaking his head.

“I cannot believe we won’t find a way to save our beasties,” Sophia said. “Do you think this is all a part of the way things are supposed to go? Is it possible that this horrible episode is something that has to happen?”

“Dashed awful way to start a new age.” The brigadier scratched his muttonchops. “Sacred dolphins dying. Bloody awful.”

“At least th’ perfesser come back,” Hiram said.

“That’s true. Maybe we just have to have faith that everything will work out for the best,” Sophia said with a mist in
her eyes. “Though I don’t think I could bear it if our dolphins didn’t survive. They’re almost like family.”

The brigadier reached across the settee to pat her hand as it lay on her lap. Swallowing back his own misery, he looked up at Hiram, who was misting up, too, though he tried to cover it with a loud blow into his handkerchief.

“There they are!” Miss Penelope Hatch’s voice broke into their somber gathering. She, Anabelle Feather, and Daniel Tucker hurried across the lobby and were soon enveloped in Lady Sophia’s hugs and Hiram’s and the brigadier’s grateful welcome.

“We had to come. We couldn’t bear to think of what might be happening to …” Penelope said as the threesome shifted to make seating room for them.

“Lord, ye look like ye been rode hard and put away wet,” Anabelle said, then halted in the midst of straightening her enormous, feathered hat.

“It’s bad news, isn’t it?” Daniel asked.

Lady Sophia nodded gravely and tapped the brigadier’s arm, indicating that he should relate what had occurred. The three were horrified to learn the state of their beloved dolphins.

“Something must be done!” Penelope declared.

“Bernard an’ the rev’rnd, they’re over there now, watchin’ the beasties, seein’ they get fed,” Hiram informed them.

Penelope, Anabelle, and Daniel debated whether they too should go to the exhibit, but in the end decided to secure a room at the hotel and wait for Celeste and Titus to return. The group sank into dismal small talk of how Ned and Maria and Stephan were faring with the other dolphins—“roight fine, thank ye”—then into utter silence.

That was where Celeste and Titus found them, including the newcomers, napping peacefully in the warmth of the out-of-the-way window nook of the hotel lobby. Celeste’s eyes were rimmed with tears, but she couldn’t help grinning at the sight of them … nestled, sprawled, and propped
… snoring with varying degrees of gentility. There wasn’t one of them that didn’t have a number of the aches and complaints that accompanied aging, but not a word had been said about their discomfort or inconvenience. They were here to help their beloved dolphins. She looked up at Titus who wagged his head with a smile.

“Nana.” Celeste knelt by her grandmother’s chair and gave her a gentle shake. When she looked up, startled, Celeste reassured her. “It’s just me. We’re back from the courts.”

The others woke at the sound of her voice and quickly roused and collected themselves to ask what she and Titus had learned. She remained on the floor beside Nana’s chair and Titus perched beside her, on the arm of the settee. There was no reassurance in what they had to relate.

“In short,” Titus summarized, minutes later, “there doesn’t seem to be anything we can do through the courts. The law favors the person or persons in possession of a disputed property. Bentley has possession of Prospero and Ariel, and as far as the law is concerned, he can do what he wants with them.”

“Humph,”
Hiram said contemptuously. “If th’ law ain’t figured out yet that dolphins an’ mackerel ain’t the same thing, they ain’t too bright.”

“There has to be something else we can do,” Nana said.

“Not within the bounds of the law, I’m afraid,” Titus said, feeling strangely on edge, as if alerted to a thought lurking at the edges of his mind, working its way toward his center. He listened with half an ear while Daniel said something about the reverend.

“… he was here, he’d say that we all answer to another law, a
higher
law. And in that law, dolphins have a right to live, undisturbed, in their own home.”