Mariah Mundi and the Ghost Diamonds (20 page)

‘I do this for different reasons, Master Templar,’ Walpole replied ever so humbly as he stooped his great, thin frame like an old greyhound. As he did so he scowled at Grimm and Grendel, doing so in such a way that the Master Templar could not see him.

‘That, Mr Walpole, is why I chose you. Your loyalty to the Society will not go unnoticed. And whilst we talk, what is our situation with Packavi?’

‘He is still useful, Master Templar. His actions are a distraction from the work we do. There is a fear in the town that he will strike again. They think it is a phantom or Spring-Heeled Jack. We add to the rumours for our own good. I have had word from the police in London. They are to close the case on the Whitechapel murders on the understanding that Packavi will not return. He did well for The Society.’

‘All in the service of the Queen … to keep her son’s follies secret. Packavi makes me nervous. There is something about him that chills what is left of my soul. Should the situation change I would like him eliminated.’ The Master Templar turned to Grimm and Grendel. ‘In the meantime, we must find the Ghost Diamonds. For that, we need to have access to the Prince Regent Hotel. We cannot search properly with subterfuge or by the cover of night.’

‘I could have the hotel closed down for reasons of evidence,’ Walpole suggested as Grimm stayed silent, feeling like a spectator to an act of malice.

‘Better still, Mr Walpole, could we not seize the building from Charity?’ the Master Templar asked.

‘How could you do that?’ asked Grimm as his heart leapt nervously in his chest. ‘It is not yours to take.’

‘If he died tragically while trying to escape from a charge of murder, then he forfeits his estate. The Prince Regent can be seized. All we would need is a writ of Charity’s death from the Mayor,’ the Master Templar said arrogantly.

‘But what he if wasn’t dead and was just hiding?’ Walpole asked eagerly.

‘Then we must make sure that we find him and do away with our problem,’ the Templar replied. ‘We have to find the Ghost Diamonds and have them restored to their rightful owner. If we cannot do that in two days then it is the end of The Society of Truth.’

‘And what if Zogel and the dwarf get in the way?’ Walpole asked curiously.

‘Then they too will meet the same fate as Captain Jack Charity,’ he replied.

D
EEP
in the cave, Mariah slept by the light of the storm lamps. Captain Charity kept guard by the entrance and listened to the sound of the sea as it echoed through the tunnel and into their hiding place. They had eaten well on a carton of ship biscuits and two mugs of Porto. The chase had exhausted Mariah and soon he had fallen asleep as his clothes steamed in the heat from the lamps.

He dreamed much. The faces of Grimm and Grendel merged with those of Sacha and Packavi. In his terror he imagined being caught by Packavi and as he raised his gun to kill the assassin, the bullets dropped onto the floor without the power of the blast. They then turned into spiders and ran quickly away, fearful of what they were meant to do. Mariah then tried to escape, only to find his legs took him backwards, closer to his attacker than he was before.

Charity watched him turn back and forth and moan in discontent as he dreamed. ‘We’ll get through all this,’ he said to Mariah, knowing the lad couldn’t hear his words and yet hoping they would reassure him. ‘Then we can get all the answers for your life – perhaps then, Mariah, you’ll have peace.’

It was as he spoke his final words that Mariah woke up.

‘They’re coming to look for us,’ Mariah said sleepily, knowing they had to be the first words he said.

‘Just a dream, Mariah,’ Charity replied as he handed him another sea biscuit.

‘I saw them. I saw them clearly. Grimm and Grendel were with Walpole outside the Prince Regent – they were nailing a writ to the door,’ Mariah replied as he wiped the sleep from his eyes.

‘Just a dream,’ Charity said again.

‘It was more than that. It was as if I was there. Walpole told them that the writ would do – until they could see Ebenezer Wolf,’ Mariah said.

‘Have you heard of the man they speak of?’ Charity asked, quite bemused.

‘Never before,’ Mariah replied.

‘Then your dream is of interest. Ebenezer Wolf is the Mayor. If this is more than a dream then it gives away what they could do,’ Charity said as his mind raced with the thought.

‘What?’ asked Mariah.

‘They intend to seize the hotel. Walpole can sign a writ of confiscation that lasts for three days, and after that the Mayor himself would have to agree and declare me dead. I would either have to appear to contest it or they could sell it by auction. Either way, they would have me.’ Charity tried to smile. ‘If your dream is true then it forces our hand. We should go to the Prince Regent and see for ourselves.’

‘But they could be outside searching for us,’ Mariah replied.

‘We shall not see the light of day until we are safe with Mister Quadlibett in his fine sweet shop in the vaults of the Market,’ Charity replied as he walked to the far wall and slid a wooden cupboard to one side.

There, as if it had been cut into the wall, was a sliver-like

crack in the solid rock. It vanished into the side of the cliff.

‘This has been here for a million years. It’s a volcanic fault line, Mariah. It takes us to the tunnels under the town and to Mister Quadilibett’s shop. This is the way the Ghosts would come and go and no one would ever see them.’

‘You know a lot about the smugglers, Captain,’ Mariah said. ‘More than one only engaged in honest trade.’

‘Then come with me and find out more. If your dream is something of the future we should not sit about in dingy circumstances.’

Charity took the lamp and led on. There were steps inside the fault that went higher and then turned. In the lamplight Mariah could see that each one had been cut from the rock by flat chisels. Some were worn where many feet had trod before them. Soon Mariah could smell the sea. The rough walls of the passageway that had been hewn from the rock gave way to smooth stones built one on the other.

From nearby Mariah could hear the sound of running water. He knew he was near to the town. Then all became familiar. He had been this way before. This was the passageway from Mister Quadlibett’s Vendorium to the harbour. There was soon the smell of the baker’s shop above them, filling the tunnel with a white mist of bread dust and the scent of fresh bread. In two turns he knew he would see the steps from the tunnel and there would be a door and then the storeroom of the shop.

‘Does everyone in this town know of this place?’ Mariah asked as he walked in Charity’s shadow.

‘There are a few who are familiar with what goes on,’ Charity said softly as they approached the entrance to the shop.

‘And the Ghost Diamonds – what is the truth of them?’ Mariah asked.

‘I know little of them. I was in Africa. From what I was told by Smutch, seven barrels were taken from a ship and brought

into the caves. The smugglers had arranged to be paid the next night. When they went to the rendezvous, Inspector Walpole and the militia from the castle were waiting. The men were arrested.’

‘But they didn’t say where the diamonds were – they were offered a pardon, Sacha told me,’ Mariah replied quickly.

‘They couldn’t say because they didn’t know,’ Charity said, his voice determined. ‘Someone had gone to the hiding place and taken every barrel. All the smugglers thought they had done was bring in Porto. When Walpole began asking about diamonds none of them knew what he was talking about.’ He paused momentarily and stared at Mariah. ‘The men were murdered because of their own ignorance. They were double-crossed.’

‘By who?’ Mariah asked.

‘I have heard it said that it was Gormenberg,’ Charity replied as he took the steps to the secret entrance of the shop one by one.

‘So why can’t we look for the diamonds ourselves?’ asked Mariah.

‘We have to find out who killed the guests at the Prince Regent. I have a feeling that the two may be linked in some way. It was strange for Zogel to arrive the night they were killed.’

‘He couldn’t have done it – he was at sea on his boat,’ said Mariah.

‘Perhaps they were killed so they couldn’t meet with him,’ Charity replied. ‘This was not just a chance attack. Everything was planned meticulously. If a meeting had been arranged between Zogel and the others, then someone was desperate to see it stopped and get me out of the way.’

‘But Zogel wants the Prince Regent,’ Mariah said.

‘That is what his companion has told you. Zogel could have any hotel in the world and there has to be something far more

that he wants than just another spa in a northern town on a craggy outcrop in the German Ocean. We need to be at the Prince Regent and I need a change of clothes.’

Charity tapped three times on the door and then waited before he tapped again. Mariah could hear shuffling in the room above. It was as if whoever was inside had to move large, heavy objects from the doorway. Charity smiled at Mariah, his face lined with the shadows of the lamp. It reminded Mariah of the day he had seen his father for the last time at Southampton dock before he had been taken to the Colonial School. There was something strong in his eyes. Mariah could see it easily. It was as if circumstances could not change the light within his heart.

‘My father said the eyes are the window of the soul.’ Mariah found himself saying the words out loud for no reason.

‘Your father was right, Mariah. Always look at the eyes. In some they are dead and lifeless – as if the essence of the man has been robbed from him. In others they are alive with the fire of life,’ Charity replied as he tapped again on the door.

‘What will happen to us?’ Mariah asked, fearing the worst but not wanting Charity to know how scared he really was.

‘Never fear that which can destroy the body – only that which can take the soul,’ Charity said. He dimmed the wick of the lamp, plunging the tunnel to a thick and murky black.

The door opened. A small candle flickered as the face appeared.

‘Who is it?’ asked a voice as the face stared into the darkness.

‘Not ghost – but men of the sea – in business against the king with rum from far away,’ Charity said, using the secret words of greeting known only to true Ghosts.

‘And what name do the men have?’ the voice asked as he held the candle higher.

‘We have no name but that of our ship,’ Charity replied.

‘And what be that?’ the voice questioned.

‘Dignity and truth,’ Charity said as he stepped forward.

‘Can’t be,’ said the voice in fear, as the door was slammed shut. ‘Dignity and truth are dead. It is the news of the town. Go away or tell me who you really are.’

‘’Tis I, Jack Charity. Quadlibett, open the door.’ Charity pressed on the door.

‘Back with you – I have a gun and I will use it. Charity is dead – don’t joke with me,’ Quadlibett replied like an angry rat, and there came the sound of boxes being stacked against the door.

‘If I am dead then look at my face. You have seen it many times. I know you keep no gun so shooting me will be impossible,’ Charity pleaded.

The door opened an inch. Mariah could see the large silver eye of Mister Quadlibett staring at them.

‘I have never seen a ghost before – for surely you are dead. Every customer has told me this today and I have it written in the smudged ink of the
Evening Gazette
, newly arrived.’ Quadlibett’s voice trembled, truly fearful.

‘Then touch my hand, Mister Quadlibett – give me hot chocolate and watch me drink and, most of all, fill it with sugar mallows and cover them with cream.’

‘Even in death you still want food?’ Quadlibett asked.

Charity shot his hand through the crack in the door and grabbed Quadlibett by the scruff of his jacket.

‘Could a ghost do this?’ he asked with a laugh as he twisted the silk scarf in his hand and lifted the man from his feet.

‘It is you – but how? You have been seen –
dead
,’ Quadlibett insisted.

‘We are alive and will remain so with your help. I need a change of clothes and your silence.’ Charity pushed his way inside with Mariah following on.

‘Mariah Mundi – Captain Charity – alive, alive indeed,’ said Mister Quadlibett with his silk cap pulled over one eye and the tassel bobbing back and forth. ‘Great expectations, great expectations …’ he went on as he opened the door. ‘As soon as I heard of your escape I wondered if you would come here. Then I was told of your death. The town is alive with the news, but I must have powerful sight for according to the
Evening
Gazette
you are both dead.’

‘There are lies, lies, and then what is written in the
Gazette
. No greater work of fiction have I ever read.’ Charity laughed.

‘They say they have found a body on the beach, washed ashore – a prisoner from Dean Prison with a bullet in his back.’

‘We are well, Mister Quadlibett. Hungry, but well. The man they discovered will be a poor unfortunate from the workhouse – proof positive of my death.’

‘Inspector Walpole has confirmed it was you – he identified the remains, what was left after its beating against the rocks. It says so on the front page. There is also a photograph.’ Quadlibett showed them both the crisp newspaper. On the front page was a sepia photograph that bore a dim resemblance to Charity.

‘To disguise the fact it wasn’t me. Doubtless the body will be the same height and age, a doppelgänger without a face.’

‘But it is good to see the real Captain Jack so alive,’ Mister Quadlibett said, offering his hand. ‘I am so glad to see you and young Mariah. Just like old times.’

‘And with old enemies, Mister Quadlibett. Grimm, Grendel and many others,’ Charity said as his eyes searched the back room of the sweet shop.

‘Then sit before the fire and we will plan what to do. It is late and the streets will be empty. They say that Spring-Heeled-Jack will strike again. No one dares to go outside, especially with the haar mist covering the town.’ Quadlibett stopped and looked at Charity. ‘I have to ask you one thing – to which I am

already sure of the answer, but I need to know from you.’ He paused before going on. ‘Jack, did you kill those people? The ones who exploded?’

‘Not I, never, but I know who did,’ Charity replied seriously, his face sullen.

‘Then I take your word and will help,’ Quadlibett chirped as he flustered with his handkerchief. ‘I get told many things in this shop. People confide in me.’ He sighed. ‘It’s the candy, opens the mouth and heart quicker than gin.’ Quadlibett looked at Mariah and then to Charity as if the presence of the boy forbade him from speaking. ‘Some people … some people say they have heard things … alarming things, things without –’

‘Be honest, Mister Quadlibett. Mariah knows much of what we do,’ Charity said, realising that Quadlibett feared speaking in front of the boy.

‘Very well. There are rumours, rumours that are fearful to believe,’ Quadlibett said reluctantly.

‘Go on,’ said Mariah.

‘They say … that you have found the Ghost Diamonds and that is why you had the people murdered. They say it is not a coincidence that the
Irenzee
came on the same night, and that you and Zogel are in concert with each other. More than that, Captain. They say you are Spring-Heeled-Jack …’

‘A killer and a smuggler?’ Charity asked.

‘People like to talk and since your arrest they are talking about you. This town envies success – especially when it is one of their own that has done well. There are some who would like to knock you down to size and see you back on the pier gutting fish. It’s jealousy, my friend. Now you have come upon hard times they are quite happy.’

‘I’ve been given nothing and worked for all I have,’ Charity replied.

‘This is a small place and you have done better than most. I

remember your father – he always worked hard. There are others who see what you have and turn green at the sight. Always remember that. Inspector Walpole has visited them all. They – to a man – would have spoken against you in court. Now you are dead. It complicates matters.’

‘It also means that as far as Walpole is concerned I cannot be alive again and I am to be killed. Walpole knows I live and breathe and as we speak he will be looking for me,’ Charity said with a hint of desperation.

‘What have you done that could change the heart of the Inspector of Police? This is a conspiracy, Captain.’