Ramage (31 page)

‘Then I wish to have an interpreter,’ announced Pisano, crossing his legs and folding his arms, as if to indicate he would not speak another word until an interpreter was produced.

‘Oh – ah – well, certainly,’ said Croucher lamely. ‘Send for an interpreter, Barrow.’

The Deputy Judge Advocate gave Captain Croucher what Ramage took to be a warning look, but said: ‘Of course, sir.’

‘Send for my clerk,’ said Croucher. ‘He can find one.’

The clerk was brought into the court, instructed to find a translator, told to shut up and look when he began to make some protest, and hurried out again, pursued by Croucher’s ‘And get a move on!’

Croucher sat back, a self-satisfied smile on his face. Barrow looked wretched – obviously he sensed a squall just over the horizon. Croucher’s smile began to dissolve when Captain Blackman whispered something, and he turned and spoke to Captain Herbert, sitting on his left. Herbert shook his head and in turn questioned the captain next to him. He, too, shook his head, while Blackman had in the meantime been whispering to the captain on his right, who shrugged his shoulders and spoke to Ferris, who also shook his head.

Croucher reached out for one of the
Sibella
’s logs and began reading, trying hard to appear unconcerned. Pisano, probably piqued at not holding the centre of the stage, indicated his boredom by picking pieces of fluff from his sky-blue breeches (where on earth did he find them? Ramage wondered) and then inspected his fingernails with more concentration, it seemed to Ramage, than he could ever muster for more serious matters.

And, he thought grimly, matters could not be more serious. Croucher was obviously pinning everything on Pisano’s testimony, and he must be the last witness they could produce: then he’d make his defence. Should he call the Bosun and Carpenter’s Mate? No – there was nothing they could add to their earlier evidence. So there was only Jackson. He would only corroborate what had been said about the
Sibella
, but he might be useful for the Tower affair and the visit to Argentario.

Yet what
could
Jackson say? All the deference that Croucher was showing Pisano indicated that, despite Gianna’s intervention, he was going to make sure the court believed every word he said.

In that case the verdict was a foregone conclusion. Ramage felt his previous elation evaporate: all those fine resolutions about fighting back, he thought bitterly… You can’t fight without weapons. And that’s what his father had found.

But – if Pisano’s word counted for so much, then so would Gianna’s! Perhaps not with the court, but if she gave evidence it would be recorded and appear in the minutes which Sir John Jervis and the Admiralty would read. And – he could kick himself for only just thinking of it – the court had just ruled someone could be called as a witness without previous warning.

At that moment the clerk returned to the cabin and handed a note to Captain Croucher, who read it, looked at Pisano, and said apologetically, ‘I am afraid that owing to some oversight there is at the moment in the squadron only one person versed in the Italian language and he’s not available to act as an interpreter.’

‘Why not?’ demanded Pisano insolently.

‘I – ah – well…’ Croucher looked round, as if expecting to see a suitable explanation written on a bulkhead. ‘Perhaps you would be kind enough to accept my word for it that he is not available.’

‘But if I am entitled to an interpreter I want an interpreter,’ insisted Pisano. ‘I have a right – you said so yourself: I demand my rights!’

‘I regret,’ Croucher answered heavily, ‘that the only interpreter available is Lieutenant Ramage.’

Pisano’s manner had clearly nettled him; Ramage thought he might even be having some regrets at having to use such an unpleasant man as a weapon: even Croucher must have scruples, and probably shared the average British naval officer’s distrust of all foreigners.

‘Very well,’ said Pisano. ‘But I make a formal complaint that I have been deprived of my rights.’

‘Sir–’ Barrow said apologetically to Croucher. ‘Would you allow me to express an opinion? If the Count simply wishes the court to note that he had not had the services of an interpreter, all would be well. But if he is rushing a formal complaint, then it might well cause Their Lordships to declare the trial irregular, and quash the proceedings…’

Croucher looked at Pisano. ‘Would you agree to it simply being noted in the minutes that an interpreter was not available?’

‘What minutes? What are these minutes? Seconds, minutes, hours?’

‘No, no!’ Croucher said hastily. ‘Minutes in this sense is – are, rather – the written record of the trial.’

‘Oh. All right then: anything to finish this. I am a busy man,’ Pisano added. ‘I have a lot to do.’

Croucher said hurriedly, anxious to take advantage of Pisano’s agreement, ‘Yes, quite, we will proceed at once. The Deputy Judge Advocate will hand you a document’ – he waited while Barrow found it and passed it – ‘which I would like you to look at. Do you recognize it?’

‘Yes, of course: a letter I wrote.’

‘To whom did you address it?’

‘That fellow, what is his name? Prodding, Probing… Probus…anyway the man who commands the little ship.’

‘Would you be good enough to read to the court the contents of the document?’

Very neatly done, thought Ramage. But we might as well make it difficult for Pisano. Just give him a minute or two to get into his stride.

‘I wrote this report on the disgraceful behaviour of Lieutenant Ramage–’

‘The witness is requested only to read the document, I believe,’ remarked Captain Ferris.

‘Er – yes, pray read the document without any prefatory remarks,’ said Croucher.

‘All right. I read: “Dear Lord Probus, I demand that Lieutenant Ramage be accused of abandoning my cousin Count Pitti to the enemy after he was wounded on the beach at
Torre di Burranaccio
and I demand that he further be accused of causing my cousin the Marchesa di Volterra to be wounded by his rashness, negligence and cowardice…’

Ramage stood up and asked politely, ‘Has it been stated if the witness is reading from the original document, or from a copy? If a copy, it should be sworn to.’

‘
Mio Dio!
’ exclaimed Pisano.

‘The point is a valid one, sir,’ interposed Barrow.

‘It is the letter I wrote: my own calligraphy – I recognize that well enough,’ said Pisano heatedly. ‘It is not a copy – what an outrageous suggestion!’

‘The fault is mine,’ Barrow admitted wearily. ‘I should have questioned the witness about its validity before he began reading.’

‘Please continue,’ Croucher said hurriedly.

Pisano raised his voice, as if determined to shut out any further interruptions. Ramage noticed that the letter seemed even more hysterical and unbalanced when read aloud by Pisano than when he’d seen it in Probus’ cabin.

Pisano was now behaving like an actor playing to the gallery – heavy emphasis here, a significant pause there, and the whole narration accompanied by meaningful gestures with his left hand. He thumped his chest when referring to Pitti being wounded (not his head, Ramage noted); he thumped his right shoulder as he mentioned the Marchesa’s wound.

The effect on the six captains was interesting and Ramage, tired of watching Pisano’s play-acting, began watching them closely. Ferris was embarrassed and drawing idly on a pad. The captain sitting next to him also seemed to be an uncomfortable spectator. Blackman – rather hard to guess what was passing through his mind: he was a deep fellow and was no doubt trying to visualize the effect of Pisano’s letter when read by Their Lordships in the quietude of the Admiralty. However, Croucher seemed to be satisfied and oblivious of Pisano’s antics. Herbert and the sixth man both clearly wished they were at sea.

Finally Pisano finished reading and threw the letter on to the table with a flourish.

‘The court will question you,’ said Croucher.

‘I am at your service,’ he replied with a bow.

‘You saw Count Pitti fall?’

‘Yes: I heard a shot and I saw him fall.’

‘Did you go to his assistance?’ Ferris asked.

‘No, there was no time.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I knew the Marchesa was wounded and I wanted to help her.’

‘But surely there was time to see how badly wounded he was?’ persisted Ferris.

‘Chivalry and honour dictates that a lady has preference,’ Pisano said loftily.

Croucher asked: ‘And when you reached the boat?’

‘I waited.’

‘For what?’

‘For the Marchesa.’

‘And then?’

‘She came with the Lieutenant.’

‘Then?’

‘The Lieutenant ordered the men to start rowing as soon as the other sailor came.’

‘Did you say anything?’

‘
Mio Dio!
I pleaded with him to wait for Count Pitti!’

‘But,’ asked Ferris, ‘what made you think Count Pitti could walk?’

Pisano paused for a moment. ‘I hoped.’

‘How far away were the French cavalry?’ asked Croucher, trying to change Ferris’ line of questioning.

‘Oh–’ Pisano was clearly unsure what answer to make. ‘It was very difficult to tell.’

‘When did you first decide that Lieutenant Ramage’s behaviour gave you cause for alarm?’

‘Oh – before I met him. His plan was madness. I told everyone so. And I was correct: look what happened: Count Pitti and the Marchesa wounded…’

‘When,’ continued Croucher, ‘did you make your complaint?’

‘As soon as I met a responsible British officer.’

‘I do not think the court has any further questions,’ Croucher said in a voice which defied Ferris to say anything. ‘The prisoner may cross-examine the witness.’

Pisano stood up at the same moment as Ramage, who said politely to Captain Croucher, ‘The witness must still be feeling the effects of the blow on his head. Could he be permitted to be seated again?’

‘Oh yes, of course,’ agreed Croucher. ‘Do please…’

Pisano sat down, not realizing for a moment or two that Ramage now had the advantage of looking down at him.

‘Count Pisano,’ Ramage said, ‘both the peasant and the Marchesa explained to you before you came to–’

‘A leading question,’ interrupted Croucher. ‘You must not ask questions that instruct a witness as to the answer he is to give.’

‘I beg your pardon, sir.’

He turned back to Pisano.

‘When did you know that there was only a small boat to rescue you?’

‘The peasant told me.’

‘How many were there in your original party?’

‘Six.’

‘How many eventually decided to come in the boat?’

‘You know perfectly well.’

‘Answer the question.’

‘Three.’

‘Why did the others not come?’

‘They did not like the plan.’

‘But you did?’

‘Yes – no, I mean.’

‘You did not like the plan, yet you came?’

‘Yes.’

‘You arrived at the boat first, before any of the rest of the party?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then what happened?’

‘You know perfectly well: you arrived at the boat carrying the Marchesa.’

‘After that?’

‘She was helped on board.’

‘By whom?’

‘The sailors – and you.’

‘But not you.’

‘No.’

‘Did I get into the boat then?’

‘Yes.’

The man lied so smoothly that Ramage was thrown off his balance.

‘You did not hear me ask one of the seamen where Count Pitti was?’

‘No.’

‘You did not see me wade back and go up to the top of the dunes?’

‘No.’

‘Nor call out for Jackson, the other seaman?’

‘No.’

Croucher interrupted: ‘You do not seem to be pursuing a profitable line of questioning with this witness, Mr Ramage.’

No, Ramage thought: he’s just going to lie and lie. And all I’ve done is put Pisano’s original story into the court minutes in a more convincing form.

Croucher told Pisano he could stand down, and then had to explain what the phrase meant.

Then Croucher looked straight at Ramage: there was a look of triumph in his face, and he said, ‘The prisoner will make his defence.’

Ramage was just about to speak when Croucher said testily, ‘Haven’t you written out your defence? Don’t say we have to waste time while you dictate it to the Deputy Judge Advocate? Surely you know by now you should read it and give him a copy?’

‘If you will allow me, sir…’

‘Well, go on then!’

‘Regarding the loss of the
Sibella
, I do not feel it necessary to recall the Bosun and the Carpenter’s Mate to give evidence on my behalf: the evidence they have already given in support of the charge makes it clear I did the only thing possible in the circumstances.’