The Hawk (30 page)

'Sir Robert, I will not allow myself to be deflected from
my – '

'Ye'll be deflected, sir, by God. Ye'll be flayed alive, if I
have the power to do it.
Be silent, sir!
' As Major Braithwaite
again attempted to speak. 'You have thrust yourself, clumsy,
barbarous and inept, upon wrong intelligence, and eagerly
believed falsehood, into my house, my domain, my world.
And you will pay the price.'

'If I was mistook, I will in due course apologize.' Major
Braithwaite, bravely, his own head now lifted. 'However, I
must say to you that Mr Scott has been followed here on
several occasions, and seen to enter the rear of the house, at
night. There can be no error in this. My source is of the
highest integrity and honesty.'

'And who is this – source?'

'I cannot tell you his name.'

'Hah! In course you cannot! This – Scott – whoever he is,
has been seen going into the neighbouring property, where
ye have found your contraband. The house there, the
derelict, empty house, ain't dissimilar in proportion and look
to Kingshill. They was built in the same year, I believe. Your
source
has followed your
villain
to that house, in darkness, and
you, Major Braithwaite, have come to
this
house in
error
.'

'I do not think so, with respect. My informant named this
house very distinct. Kingshill. Kingshill House.'

'Hm.' Another pinch of snuff. 'Hm.' He leaned over the
desk, took a sheet of paper and wrote a quick note. He
scattered a little powder from the pounce box on the paper,
and folded it.

'Lieutenant Hayter, you are in uniform. May I trouble you
to drive down to the Marine Barracks at Portsmouth in your
gig – that is your gig outside? – and give this note into the
hand of the commanding officer. Say to him that the matter
is urgent, will you?'

'Very good, Sir Robert.' Taking the note.

'Wait a moment, if you please.' The major, still brave
enough to assert himself. 'I do not wish anyone to leave this
house, until all the facts have been understood.'

'Am I under arrest?' James, very direct.

'I can order your arrest, if you push me to it.' Defiantly.
'What is in that note?' He held out his hand.

'I will not reveal the contents of a private – '

'That's all right, Mr Hayter.' Sir Robert, now quite calm.
'I will tell the major myself. The note is a request for a party
of Marines to attend me at my house, to protect me from
assault. It is a long-standing arrangement. I assure you, Major
Braithwaite, that if your men in any wise impair the action of
the Marines, they will be shot and killed. Evidently you do
not know who I am. You do not know how and where I am
connected. You do not understand my position at the heart of
power and influence. But perhaps you
begin
to see what you
have done, sir, in smashing into my house at night? You have
disturbed and intruded upon the business of the nation, you
have damaged the nation's interest, and you have insulted
me.'

Major Braithwaite, for all his courage, was beginning to
falter. He opened his mouth to speak, and was cut off:

'Call off your dogs, Major. Call them off, and go away, and
there will be no need for Lieutenant Hayter to drive to
Portsmouth.'

'I – I cannot simply ignore the evidence, Sir Robert, in the
contraband goods. Nor the person of Mr Scott.'

'Major Braithwaite, I am trying to help you. You are an
officer in His Majesty's service. I too serve His Majesty.
Cannot you grasp that we believe in and serve the same
cause?'

'I do not know what to believe.'

'Then I fear that I cannot help you, after all.' Very cold,
with an air of dark, dismissive finality. 'Lieutenant Hayter,
pray proceed.'

Major Braithwaite stood frowning and irresolute a
moment, and glanced once or twice at Sir Robert, as if trying
to read the thoughts behind that black unrelenting stare.
James put away the note in an inner pocket and prepared to
leave the room. Major Braithwaite stepped in front of him
with a little shake of his head, then turned to Sir Robert and:

'Very well, very well – I will summon my men from the
search, and go away as you ask.'

'I am glad.'

'However . . .'

Sir Robert continued to stare at him, with a slight
interrogative lifting of his head. 'However . . . ?'

'I must return on the morrow, and continue the search in
daylight, when we are better able to see what we are about.'

'I for one will not interrupt your endeavours – if you leave
me alone. Will you do that?'

'I do not wish to come again to this house, if you will give
me your solemn oath that the man Scott is not here, and has
never been here.'

'You have it.'

'Thank you, Sir Robert. I will say goodnight.' A brief bow,
and he left the room. Presently there were more shouts,
repeated in the distance, the sound of many feet outside, a
door slammed, then there was silence.

Broken by a knock at the library door.

'Yes?' Sir Robert, calling from his desk, where he had sat
down, looking suddenly exhausted and frail. They all looked
towards the door as it was opened. Fender, one eye bruised
black and swollen, a cut on his cheek, and the sleeve of his
coat torn.

'They has gone, sir.'

'All of them?'

'There is none of them left in the house, sir, thank God.'

'What of the greenhouses?'

'I do not know that, sir.'

'Then look, Fender, look there at once.' Urgently.

'Yes, sir.'

'No – wait. You are hurt. Is Mrs Reece herself? Ask her to
tend to your wounds. Y'may go.'

'Thank you, sir.' Fender retired, closing the door.

'Lieutenant Hayter.' Sir Robert was now waxy and illlooking.
He stood up shakily, and shakily clutched the edge
of his desk to prevent himself from falling to the floor.

'Sir Robert?'

'Will you come with me to look at the outbuildings?'

'I will gladly walk over there, sir, but I do not think you are
strong enough to go out again tonight. I will go alone, with a
light. What do you wish me to discover? Whether or no they
left a guard?'

'I will go with you, James.' Rennie, moving to his side.

'Nay, Rennie, y'will not!' Sir Robert, gripping the desk,
turned his black stare on Rennie, and made it malevolent.

'You are no longer part of my world, nor my interests. You
absented y'self from your duty to me, you snarled contempt
and vituperation, baring your teeth, and ran away! Do not
attempt to come sidling back, sir, like a cringing, guilty, tailturned-
under cur.'

Rennie was very shocked. 'But I – I had come here willing
to treat, to start fresh, and to offer my services in any new
plan we all of us might devise together to capture Aidan
Faulk.'

'We! All of us! New plan – ! Hnnh . . .' A shaft of pain ran
through Sir Robert, and his fingers clutching the desk
whitened at the knuckles. 'Oh-dear-God . . . hnnh . . .'

James ran to the door, jerked it open, and: 'Fender!
Fender!' Finding no response, James hurried away towards
the kitchen, his boots echoing on the stone floor. 'We must
fetch a doctor!'

Sir Robert now fell into the chair at his desk, and lay back
in it, one hand clutching at his belly and the other gripping
the arm of the chair like a white claw.

'Is there nothing I can do for you, Sir Robert?' Mr Hope,
anxiously bending over the stricken man. 'A glass of brandy?'

'No . . . hhh-no . . . it is a spasm . . .'
A brief shudder, and Sir Robert appeared to sink into
himself. His grip on the arm of the chair slackened, and his
hand fell loose.

'Good God – is he dead?' Rennie, peering at him.

Mr Hope felt at Sir Robert's neck. His fingers fumbled
with shirt and stock, then:

'His pulse is there. It is faint, but it is there.' With relief.

James came back, the library door swinging half-shut
behind him. He looked energetic, but distracted, glancing
back at the door, then at the slumped form in the chair.

'Fender has gone to fetch the doctor. I let him have our gig.
I would have gone myself, but he would not hear of it. He is
very loyal to his master. Is Sir Robert . . . ?'

'He is unconscious, but alive.' Mr Hope, loosening the
stock further.

From outside the sound of hooves and wheels moving
briskly away, and fading on the air. James glanced again
toward the library door, and:

'I fear there may indeed be men left on guard at the
outbuildings.'

'What is that to us?' Mr Hope straightened and stepped
back from the desk, and went to the tray on a small table at
the side. 'That need not concern us here at Kingshill.'

James exchanged a glance with Rennie, who made a face.

'What Lieutenant Hayter means, sir, is that – well well,
although he denied any knowledge of Scott, Sir Robert was
not quite telling the truth, d'y'see.'

'Eh?' Pausing with decanter in one hand, stopper in the
other.

'As a matter of fact – Sir Robert is Scott.'

'Nay, do not jest. This is not a time for jesting – '

'Captain Rennie does not jest, sir. Sir Robert has many
interests, as we had already discussed before his return, and in
pursuit of some of them he assumes the disguise of Mr Scott.'
James, in earnest support.

'Then – you think all that about brandy and tobacco in
greenhouses is true?'

'I cannot be sure of that, sir. However, we must assume
that Sir Robert – as Scott – has attracted the attention of
the Board of Customs officer, inadvertent, and they have
made this foray tonight to what they believe is Scott's
house.'

'D'y'mean that as Scott – he is a smuggler? Is that what
y'mean?'

'I do not believe it is quite so straightforward, sir.' Again
glancing at Rennie. Rennie read that glance, nodded, and:

'I am in no doubt, sir, that Sir Robert is involved in
subterfuge of many kinds, connected with the pursuit of
Aidan Faulk. Perhaps – without informing us – he has made
connections in the world of smugglers, and smuggling, in
order to – '

'But that is nonsense, Captain Rennie.' Mr Hope, severely.
'Why should he conceal such an activity from us? Ain't we all
in pursuit of the same thing?'

'I beg your pardon, sir, but I must again remind you of
what we have discussed here this day. I fear that you do not
fully understand what Sir Robert is capable of, in his various
capacities. You have heard, in course, of the Secret Service
Fund?'

'Naturally.' A hint of acerbity.

'Perhaps you may think that it is still used for political
bribes by the Prime Minister . . . ?'

'Do not be foolish, Rennie. D'y'think I am unaware of Sir
Robert's capabilities, his
capacities
, as you so prettily put it? I
know full well what he does, and why. He works behind,
often in secret, and he is a man of considerable weight. What
I do not and cannot understand is why he should wish to
hoodwink us – his friends.'

'Well, sir, well . . .' Rennie was careful of his words. 'Had
you not considered – in view of our earlier discussion – that
Sir Robert does not always confide fully in his friends . . .
because he does not in fact trust
anyone
?'

'Eh? Now that is damned nonsense. In course he trusts the
Prime Minister, how could he not? He trusts Their
Lordships. I know for a fact that he trusts me. He did me a
little service a year or two since, and I marked that service by
the gift of a ring.'

'I have seen the ring,' said Rennie. 'But you know, sir, your
gift of a ring does not necessarily mean that he has placed his
trust in you entire, in return. We agreed earlier, did not we,
that – '

'The ring certainly marked a friendship.' Stoutly.

'Forgive me, sir – how well d'y'really know Sir Robert? He
is your intimate friend, would you say?'

'The service I spoke of just now . . . concerned a lady. A
young lady that sought to be troublesome, you know, to make
difficulties for me. Sir Robert put the matter straight in the
most understanding, confidential, gentlemanly way. I think I
may say that Sir Robert and I established a mutual trust of the
most sympathetic kind. Yes, I think I may say we know each
other intimately well, as men of understanding.'

'Then I must say nothing more about your friend, sir.' A
sniff, looking away.

'Don't be a bloody fool, Rennie. If y'have something to say,
speak plain. We are sea officers, ain't we, after all?'

'Very good, sir. With respect, I do not believe you may
have your cake and eat it too. Either Sir Robert is your friend
in whom you have complete trust, or he is a duplicitous fellow
that will not hesitate to deceive his intimates as it suits him.
He cannot be both. Can he?'

'That is very harsh, Rennie – very harsh.' Mr Hope walked
down the room a little way, holding a glass of wine. He
paused, turned, came back and stood looking at the slumped
figure in the chair behind the desk. At last, with a glance at
Lieutenant Hayter, he asked Rennie:

'What d'y'propose?'

Rennie let out a long-held-in breath. 'I propose that we
leave Sir Robert as comfortable as we can make him, out of
common decency of feeling – carry him to that sofa – and let
the doctor attend to him presently. And then that we go on
our way. Altogether our own way – in everything.'

'My dear, I must leave this house for the present, and return
to the Point.' Rennie held Mrs Townend's hand as he told
her, and she nodded.

'You have agreed to obey Sir Robert Greer. I am glad.'

'Nay, I have not.' Withdrawing his hand. 'I will never again
consent to such a course.'

Rennie could hear plates clattering in the kitchen to the
rear. He wondered where Mrs Townend's sister was.
Listening, concealed behind the door?

Mrs Townend sensed the rebuke in the withdrawal of his
hand, felt a qualm, and attempted to restore the contact by
taking his hand in her own. 'But I thought you had decided to
be his friend again . . . ?'