The Devil's Own Luck (22 page)

Well done, James. The use of the future term implied culprits still living.

“You are sure of this?” asked Harry.

“Quite sure.”

“Then let us move on to more important matters. Please tell us what happened with Mr Bentley.”

“That is not why we are here.” Crevitt waved his arm to include Craddock. The acting premier looked from one to the other, saying nothing.

“It is why I am here, sir,” snapped Harry. “For as you are no doubt aware I made certain statements to the wardroom this morning. James?”

James, ignoring the frown on Crevitt’s face, went through the same tale he had told Harry the night before, omitting the part about Harry’s possible guilt. Crevitt, in spite of himself, was intrigued.

“Can I ask you why you remained silent, Mr Ludlow? After all, you were given the opportunity to speak up at the time.”

James reacted angrily. “Am I to explain myself to all and sundry, sir? Address the mob and appeal for justice? How was I to know Captain Carter would refuse to allow me to plead my case to him privately, or at least in front of a few people of some station? And to then be put before the mast, without even the opportunity to talk with my own brother. Please do not be deceived by the stoic way in which I have reacted. Captain Carter’s behaviour has been monstrous, sir, and I trust that now I have at last been given a chance to express my total innocence of the charge—”

“An expression of innocence is not sufficient to remove all possibility of guilt,” said Crevitt.

“That is for a court of law to decide, Mr Crevitt. But it is a tenet of English justice that you are innocent till proven guilty, and I was not aware that silence impeded that basic right, enshrined in Magna Charta. Do I not have the right to plead? One would be justified in asking why we are set to fight any Frenchman that comes along, if that is not one of the principles we are defending. Or are we to see the Revolution’s guillotines set up on the quarterdeck of British ships? For I tell you, sir, that such goings on are no better than the behaviour of those responsible for the present state of poor France. Am I to be denied the opportunity to establish my innocence, and merely condemned? I repeat, sir, the captain’s behaviour is monstrous!”

“It might be better to point out to the captain that what he has done is not legal,” Craddock said to Crevitt in a quiet voice, his face blank. Harry had the impression that Craddock had already tried that on Carter, to no avail.

“Illegal?” Crevitt’s huge nose spun threateningly towards the acting premier.

“On two counts, Mr Crevitt. The first being that you cannot press a man who is not a sailor by trade.”

“Was not Mr Ludlow serving aboard the
Medusa?”

“Serving!” cried Harry. “He owned a third of the damned ship.”

“Ill-tempered language will not enhance your case.” Harry felt as though he had just been admonished by a schoolmaster.

“It would be impossible to say he was serving,” said Craddock, seeing Harry about to explode. “Besides he is a gentleman of means. It would not hold in a court, should it come to that.”

“Which it most certainly will,” said Harry.

“You said on two counts, Mr Craddock?”

“Even if Mr Ludlow here was a sailor, which I take leave to doubt, having been arrested on a capital offence, he cannot then be set about normal duties.”

“If you call being a topman ‘normal duties.’”

Craddock turned to Harry, his face hardening to show determination.

“I took the precaution of moving him to the ‘waisters.’”

Without consulting Carter, thought Harry. Craddock turned back to Crevitt.

“By rights, young Mr Ludlow should be confined on his own, exercised twice a day under guard, and allowed such visitors as the captain finds appropriate.”

Crevitt looked at Harry, brow furrowed, before turning his head back to Craddock. He gave the lieutenant a stern took that promised possible damnation.

“And I for one,” continued Craddock, refusing to be cowed, “can see no reason why that should not include his brother.”

“I was appraised of your threats, the ones you made to the wardroom this morning,” said Crevitt without taking his eyes off Craddock.

“Hardly threats.”

“Perhaps they gained something in the telling, for they sounded like threats to me.”

“I intend to find out who killed Bentley.”

“It is right to believe in your own flesh and blood.” He took both the brothers in at a glance. “Understandable and commendable. But the evidence, Mr Ludlow . . .”

“What evidence?” said James quietly.

“You standing over the body, a knife covered in the man’s blood in your hand.”

“I have explained that.”

“At some point, perhaps soon, you are going to meet your maker, Mr Ludlow. It would be better for you to confess than put your brother through this torture.”

“Confess to something I did not do?”

“You were seen, Mr Ludlow.” Crevitt’s voice was quiet, sacerdotal. Craddock was now looking at his feet. “You have concocted a fine tale, but to no avail. The prosecutor will produce sworn statements from two witnesses who saw you plunge the knife into Mr Bentley’s heart.”

“Witnesses?” James gasped, looking at Harry. The unspoken question was there.

“Men I have yet to question,” said Harry.

“It is not your place to question them, sir. That is the job of the prosecuting counsel. You will then be furnished with a transcript of what they say. That is the proper form.”

James made to speak. Harry held up his hand, letting the parson speak.

“You asked what the captain wanted in return for allowing this interview. Merely this: that you accept that there is a process of law, which will be adhered to, and that you stop going around threatening to expose a non-existent murderer. For Captain Carter has already pointed out to you that such actions are bad for discipline.”

“And if I refuse?”

“I am not in command here. That would be for Captain Carter to decide.”

“And how to react to the points raised by Mr Craddock.”

“I will pass them on. But surely they are academic.”

“Academic?” said James.

“It may be that some of the captain’s actions border on illegality. But I cannot see how a condemned or even executed man can bring a case against him.”

Craddock sniffed loudly. He was angry as he walked over and opened the door. The marine sentry stood to attention as Turnbull entered.

“Mr Turnbull. Take Mr Ludlow to the forepeak. Hold him under guard there till you receive further orders.”

“The forepeak?” protested Turnbull, looking at Crevitt.

“Carry out your orders, sir,” snapped Craddock. “And do so without consulting anyone on the way.”

James was led out. Crevitt looked long and hard at Craddock. The older man was not about to be chastised by a mere parson, and his look said so.

“Well?” asked Crevitt, turning to Harry.

“I will do nothing that interferes with the running of the ship. Nor will I take any action that is likely to undermine discipline.”

“With respect, Mr Ludlow, that is rather an equivocal response.”

“You may rest assured, sir, that it is the only one you are likely to receive. I must ask you, Mr Craddock, am I still a guest of the wardroom?”

“You are, sir. Most assuredly so,” said Craddock. At least the man was nailing his colours to the mast. Harry nodded his thanks, turned and walked out.

Craddock came into the wardroom, his face white and set. “Mr Ludlow, a word if you please.”

Harry followed him into his cabin, shutting the door behind him. Craddock sat down rather wearily, inviting Harry to do the same.

“All your life you long to progress, to rise in the service.” He was almost talking to himself. He pulled himself up to address Harry.

“I have just informed the captain that I will not stand by and allow him to flout both convention and the law. Your brother will not be returned to serve before the mast. As is proper he will be confined as I outlined.”

“Will I be allowed to visit him?”

“I have made it plain that I will force a court martial if he takes any action I deem prejudicial. I have included that in the list of my demands.”

Harry could only wonder at the words that had been used in such an interview with a man like Carter. They would need to be strong on both sides as Craddock was well within his rights. He, along with the other officers, did have the right to challenge the captain and to force him to have their case adjudicated over by senior officers. Indeed, a great deal of senior captains’ and admirals’ time was taken up sorting out the squabbles that occurred between captains and their officers.

“Thank you, Mr Craddock.”

“I did it because it was the proper thing, Mr Ludlow. I require nothing from you in return.”

“That is surely for me to decide, sir,” said Harry, aware of what Craddock had risked. “I dare say you will not be confirmed in your present post?”

“A mite unlikely.” A small trace of a smile accompanied this. Craddock rubbed his face wearily. “I would not like to confirm that I will be employed at all.”

Harry could ensure that, but this wasn’t the moment to say it.

“Mr Craddock. I do not know where you stand on the question of my brother’s guilt.”

“I stand on the side of the law, sir.” A trifle bombastic, Harry thought.

“As indeed you have already proved. But what do you think? I beg you to speak plain.”

His face took on a sorrowful look. “Why then, I’d have to say it looks bad, Mr Ludlow. Very bad.”

“Does my conviction carry any weight with you?”

“A very natural way to behave. But that doesn’t alter the facts.”

“Are they facts? Two witnesses that I have not had an opportunity to question. Have you?”

“Not my place to, sir.” He smoothed his hands over the grey whiskers, trying, and failing, to get them to stay in place.

“Let us examine what will happen when we reach Gibraltar. My brother will be marched off to prison. What then?”

Craddock tilted his head to one side, thinking before speaking. He tweaked his broad nose between forefinger and thumb.

“Questions will be asked. Statements will be taken. A case will be put together and your brother will stand trial.”

“And where will you be by then?” Harry strived to sound patient, trying to give the older man time to catch up with his train of thought.

“Only God knows that, Mr Ludlow. Wind and tide . . .”

“And witnesses who will swear that they saw my brother kill Mr Bentley. Where will they be?”

“On board ship.” The old man looked at him, wondering if he was foolish. Harry continued with a relaxed air, almost light-hearted.

“So they will make a statement to the prosecuting authority. They will then sail away. That testimony will then be used in court, without any chance for defence counsel to examine the witnesses.”

“Their statements will be taken under oath.”

“Let me put this to you, Mr Craddock. There is someone aboard this ship, probably an officer, although we cannot exclude the crew, who has deliberately used my presence on board to rid himself of Mr Bentley. My brother finding the knife was true. I was supposed to stand accused, not him. And given Captain Carter’s attitude to me, the outcome could be pretty certain.”

“Is that not a mite far-fetched?” said Craddock, whose face had shown increasing incredulity as Harry talked. “I mean no disrespect, sir.”

Harry leant forward to make his points. “James will tell you that he pulled that knife out of the deck. I can show you a gouge at the scene of the crime, so deep that it could only have been stuck in there deliberately. It will match exactly the one you saw me make in the great cabin. Mr Outhwaite will confirm both that, and the fact that we found traces of wig powder at the scene of the murder.”

“You must forgive me, Mr Ludlow, for I cannot see where this is leading you.” He did look genuinely mystified, or was that disbelief warring with good manners?

“Don’t you? Can you not see that this points to certain things . . . Mr Outhwaite will also confirm that there were white dust marks on Mr Bentley’s coat. Wig powder, Mr Craddock? And it was just after the captain’s banquet. You will recall that there were very few people at the banquet who were without wigs. Myself, my brother, and Mr Bentley. Oh yes, and Mr Turnbull. You yourself have already seen the scratches on my sea-chest.”

“None of this is very remarkable. There could be any number of explanations.”

“Or one. Surely it is enough to create some doubt. Enough to lead you to enquire further. And you are in a position to do one thing that I cannot do.”

Craddock had caught the “you,” and it was plain that he was made uncomfortable by it. His countenance closed. Harry could not blame him; he had every right to tread carefully. But curiosity outweighed caution.

“And what would that be?” The question was asked in a wary voice, and Craddock made no attempt to mask his displeasure at being dragged into matters which, he felt, were none of his concern. His face had the look of a man offered stinking fish.

“If the two men who claimed to be witnesses were truly there, what would be their first action on seeing the crime?”

Craddock shrugged. His mental processes were too slow for the speed that Harry was making.

He pressed home his point. “Perhaps to apprehend the killer?”

“Who’s going to go for a man with a knife, Mr Ludlow?”

“So what else would they do?”

“Raise the alarm. Call for help?”

“Yes. They could, of course, just ignore the whole affair and say nothing.”

“But then why come forward later?” If Craddock realized that he had made Harry’s point for him, it didn’t show.

“Quite. So we are agreed that they should have raised the alarm.”

A shrug. “Yes.”

“Well, I am willing to wager that they did not. And if they did not raise the alarm, then that puts the whole question of their testimony in doubt, does it not?”

“Well . . .” Craddock was not convinced.

“In doubt, I say, Mr Craddock. I have not yet said that their story has been concocted.”

“But that is what you want to say!” A flash of anger crossed his face.