The Bombay Marines (17 page)

Horne and Babcock emerged from the gate fronting the Guardhouse as a cockerel’s crow carried into the fortress from the Black Town. They each grabbed a bale of straw from the line in front of the building and, hoisting the bales to their shoulders, made their way diagonally across the Parade towards the bastion on the southwest corner of the stone wall surrounding the Governor’s House.

As they passed along the south side of the wall, Kiro emerged from the shadows of the six white columns of the English Church and fell into step beside them.

Walking three abreast, the men turned left at the southeast corner of the Governor’s House and walked north along St Thomas Street, passing the locked entrance to the Governor’s House on their left, the stately procession of stone columns stretching down towards the Sea Gate to their right.

Groot appeared from the shadows at the northeast corner of the thick wall which formed the inner fortress.

Horne stopped. He shifted the straw bale from one shoulder to the other and glanced back down St Thomas Street. St Thomas Gate was still closed. Were Jingee and Jud nearby? The six o’clock bells would start ringing soon.

Babcock, Kiro, and Groot stood facing Horne. Groot noticed the bruises on Horne’s face but did not ask ques tions. Standing with his back to Portuguese Square, he reported, They’ve taken General Lally to the Portuguese Church,
schupper
.’

‘How heavy’s the guard?’ Horne looked beyond Groot’s shoulder at the spire of the small church.

‘Two guards in front. Four behind. You can’t see the front guards,
schupper,
because they’re standing by the doors.’

‘What about inside the church?’

‘I counted six men go in,
schupper,
and four come out.’

Horne remembered the details about the Portuguese Church. ‘Were you able to see if they’re still working on the church?’

‘I looked through a side window. I saw boards piled on the floor. Stones and mortar all around in heaps.’

Stepping closer to Horne, Groot added in a lower voice, ‘I was also able to listen,
schupper.
I heard a Lieutenant say he must report to the Town Major. It’s the same Lieutenant whom Babcock and I saw at the Barracks. His name’s Mason, He’s gone down there now –’ Groot nodded behind Horne, ‘– to the Town Hall. You just missed running into him.’

Horne glanced back down the street. The Town Major’s office was in the Town Hall, halfway down St Thomas Street, situated between the spot where they were standing and St Thomas Gate. Were the Town Major and the Lieutenant in there now making changes? Planning to move Lally a second time? Why? What was happening? Did someone suspect a plot?

Horne thought of the original plan he had made with his seven men. ‘Jud and Jingee should be at St Thomas Gate by now. Bapu and Mustafa, in the Stables. We’re already running short of time so we can’t make too many changes.’

He looked at Kiro. ‘You and I will go to the Portuguese Church.’

Kiro nodded.

To Babcock, he said, ‘Give Kiro your bale.’

Babcock hoisted the straw onto Kiro’s back.

Horne looked at Groot. ‘You keep to the same plan. Go to the Stables. But instead of getting two extra horses, bring a third one. For Kiro. Bring the horses to the gate in front of
the Portuguese Church. Across the square from the Magazine. Leave the Stables when the bells start ringing at six o’clock. Understand?’

‘Aye, aye,
schupper
.’

Horne looked back at Babcock. ‘You keep to the same plan too, Babcock.’

Babcock patted the leather pouch hanging from his belt.

Horne stood facing the small half-circle of men. ‘When we come out of the church, we ride down this side of the Governor’s House. Turn here. Head down St Thomas Street. If we see that Jud and Jingee haven’t got the gates open, we chance leaving through the Sea Gate.’

Resettling the bale on his shoulder, he said, ‘Kiro, I’ll explain our plan of action on the way to the church.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Horne looked from Kiro to Groot to Babcock. ‘This is it.’

The Town Major had seen them. Alexander Shipton, Town Major, Chief Deputy to Governor Pigot, and Company Officer-in-Command during Pigot’s absence, had watched two men with bales on their shoulders walk down the south wall of the Governor’s House. A third man joined them from the English Church as they continued down to St Thomas Street. Where were workmen going so early in the morning? Why had a man come out of the English Church? Wasn’t it locked? Or was reconstruction work being done there – as inside the Portuguese Church – that he didn’t know about?

Shipton had been unable to sleep this morning. He had been troubled by all the problems which had risen in Pigot’s absence. Having come early to work in his office, his presence in the Town Hall had proved to be well-timed – Lieu tenant Mason had come here reporting that General Lally was being moved to a new prison.

Waiting for Mason to report back on Lally’s whereabouts, Shipton had stood at the window, reading the letter which had created all the problems.

A knock sounded on the door as Shipton stood at the window, holding the letter and looking down at the two workmen turning the corner of St Thomas Street with the bales of straw on their shoulders. Shipton moved towards his desk, calling for the early morning visitor to enter.

Lieutenant Mason stepped into Shipton’s office, his craggy cheeks flushed with excitement. Approaching the desk, he saluted, reporting, ‘Sir, General Lally’s been moved to the Portuguese Church.’

‘The Portuguese Church?’ Shipton sank back into his chair. ‘Why there of all places?’

‘Lally’s Roman Catholic, sir. His confessor, Father Lavour, used to say Mass at the Portuguese Church and he feels safe there.’

Shipton frowned. ‘How large is the guard?’

‘Eight, sir.’

‘Double – no, treble it. Immediately.’

‘There’s also another matter to report, sir. Two men have been found dead in the Guardhouse. Killed in the room where General Lally had been imprisoned.’

‘Killed?’ Shipton stared disbelievingly at Mason.

‘Yes, sir. Captain Oliver Giltspur and Lieutenant Abel Edwards. Both of the 64th, sir.’

‘For any apparent reason, Lieutenant?’

‘No, sir. There was no one else on that floor. No sign of entry. It obviously happened only shortly after General Lally had been moved.’

Shipton took a deep breath, looking at Eyre Coote’s letter about Pondicherry’s surrender lying on his desk. ‘Perhaps Lally wasn’t talking nonsense about assassins.’

‘I’m beginning to think the same, sir.’

Shipton raised his eyes. ‘Mason, I’m taking personal command of this situation. I’ll return with you to the Portuguese Church.’

Two hundred and fifty yards south of the Town Hall, Jingee moved from the shadows of the narrow alleyway leading from St Thomas Bastion to St Thomas Gate. Carrying two steaming tin mugs and a covered tray, he sat cross-legged on the cobblestones in front of the empty guard kiosk. A few minutes passed before two uniformed guards for the morning’s first sentry duty came down the alley way. They slowed when they saw Jingee waiting for them, expressions of curiosity on their faces, smiles of pleasure cracking when they spied the two steaming mugs and covered breakfast tray. Jud stepped behind the guards in the alley, crooking his strong black arm around one man’s neck. Jingee pulled a cudgel from the tray and attacked the second guard.

The Portuguese Church was little larger than a chapel. Built in the sixteenth century by Portuguese traders from Lisbon, the ornate red brick and white stucco church was anachronistic in company with the later, simpler stone structures erected by the East India Company.

Adam Horne and Kiro, bent under the weight of the straw bales on their backs, passed through the wrought iron gates fronting the flag walk. They moved down a short avenue of palm trees towards two guards standing by the carved cedar doors opening into the vestibule.

Keeping his head low as he approached the left guard, Horne used the officer’s name Groot had told him. ‘Lieutenant Mason wants these.’

The guard looked quizzical. ‘Straw? What does he want straw for?’

‘For …
this
!’

Horne charged forward with the bale, pushing the man back into the vestibule; Kiro moved at the same time, butting the second guard towards the marble floor.

Slamming shut the doors, Horne pulled the iron bar. He spun around, bringing down his boot on the first guard’s musket barrel as he chopped him behind the neck, kneeing him on the chin.

Kiro attacked the second guard, sending his musket to the floor and, facing him with both hands raised, palms open, he levelled his left hand in a sharp
Karate
strike and
followed with a hit from the other hand.

Horne and Kiro stripped off the guards’ jackets, gagged them, bound their hands and feet, and tied them back-to-back on the vestibule floor. Hurriedly dressing in the jackets, they moved into the nave. Groot’s information had been correct; the church had been stripped to bare brick, and piles of lumber and stone were heaped across the flagging.

Horne knocked on the door at the rear of the nave. ‘Mason here.’

A bolt shot back on the far side of the door.

Pushing open the door, Horne jabbed his knife at the man unlocking it, a squat Sergeant with a bushy red moustache.

Kiro slipped past the Sergeant into the sacristy, grabbing the barrel of the other guard’s musket. Swinging the butt at his face, he knocked him to the floor.

Horne held his knife to the Sergeant’s throat. ‘Where’s Lally?’

The Sergeant’s small green eyes darted to a door decorated with a cross. Looking back to Horne and Kiro, he tried to compose himself but his voice still wavered as he said, ‘I don’t know who you are … But there’s men outside … You better not kill us because …’

Horne pulled back his left hand, sending the Sergeant to the floor with a
Pankration
chop. Kiro used a
Karate
blow on the other guard.

After binding and gagging both men, Horne moved to the left of the door marked with the cross. He knocked twice and paused before knocking a third time.

A voice immediately answered. ‘Who is it?’

‘General Lally?’

‘Who is it?’ repeated the voice.

Horne knocked again and, keeping his voice low, asked, ‘Do you know Father Lavour?
Père
Lavour?’

The door flew open. A white-haired man stood facing Horne.

Jabbing the knife towards Lally’s throat, Horne ordered, ‘Open your mouth, General, and you’ll be buried in this church.’

Lally’s blue eyes were bloodshot with fatigue. He stared at Horne’s bruised face, at the Regimental jacket he was wearing, then at the two bound guards on the floor.

Looking from Horne to Kiro, he asked, ‘Who are you?’

‘Your escorts, sir.’ Horne motioned him out of the room with the knife.

Lally showed none of the guards’ fears. ‘Where are you taking me? What’s the reason for this?’

‘You’ll find out soon enough.’ Horne pulled a kerchief from his breeches.

Lally demanded, ‘Did the French send you, damn it? D’Ache? Rambeau? What’s the reason for –’

The kerchief muffled the rest of Lally’s words. Horne bound his hands in front of him with leather thongs as Kiro primed the guards’ brace of flintlocks.

Cautiously but firmly, Horne pushed Lally from the sacristy, moving him across the nave. Kiro followed, keeping his back to them, holding both pistols trained on the rear door.

They reached the vestibule as the six o’clock bells began ringing across the fortress from the English Church.

At the sound of the six o’clock bells, Bapu stepped from the Stables. Still dressed in a turban and
dhoti
, he looked across the Parade towards the top of Portuguese Square. All was clear.

Beckoning towards the darkness of the Stables, Bapu stepped back against the door as Groot and Babcock clattered forward on their mounts.

Groot, leading three horses behind him, moved across the Parade at a neat trot as Babcock followed more slowly on his roan.

Watching the two men turn from the Parade into Portuguese Square, Bapu disappeared back into the Stables. He emerged a few seconds later riding a chestnut mare and gripping the reins of a black stallion and a sturdy grey mare. Mustafa rode alongside him on a dappled mare as they cantered along the south side of the Governor’s House, down towards St Thomas Street, passing the English Church where the bells still rang noisily in the new day.

Babcock reached the opposite side of the Governor’s House from Bapu and Mustafa and reined his roan by the Magazine built into the sloping northwest corner of the thick yellow stone wall.

Listening to the bells pealing, he pulled a flint light and a parchment of explosives from his leather pouch as he watched Groot lead the three horses down Portuguese Square.

The sound of running feet came from the front of the church, and Babcock saw Horne and Kiro burst through the gate with a gagged white-haired man – Lally!

Babcock struck the flint.

He watched Horne shove Lally astride the black stallion and mount the saddle behind him, then he lit the fuse and lobbed the explosives towards the Magazine’s grille.

Town Major Shipton, accompanied by Lieutenant Mason, closed the front door of the Town Hall as the six o’clock bells finished pealing. They were on their way to the Portuguese Church.

Stepping from the porch, they heard the rumble of
galloping horses and looked to their left down St Thomas Street.

Three horses raced between the open gates. Shipton and Mason saw four more riders in the distance, dust rising behind them as they galloped towards the beach in the early morning light.

At the sound of another horse, Shipton and Mason turned and saw a man galloping towards them on a roan. Lieutenant Mason pulled his sabre to stop him. But a loud explosion shook the earth and the horse thundered past them.