The Hawk Page 24

  'I will not be dissuaded by idle argument of this kind, sir. And you may draw swords, aim pistols, and so forth – but the house is surrounded by men. I have only to say the word, and you will be took by force. All of you.' Looking at each in turn. 'Let us have no bloodshed now, if you please.'

  The sounds of hooves and wheels without, a further commotion, a door banged, and a deep, angry voice echoing through the house. The library door rattled, and Sir Robert Greer strode in.

  'What is the meaning of this disgusting invasion of my house? Who are you?' Glaring at Major Braithwaite. Then: 'Good God, Rennie, it is you. And Lieutenant Hayter. And . . . Mr Hope.' His anger becoming surprise.

  'Sir Robert, may I present Major Braithwaite, of the Board of Customs? He – joined us, whilst we was waiting on you.' Mr Hope, coming forward urbanely. 'Major Braithwaite, Sir Robert Greer.'

  'Sir Robert.' Major Braithwaite bowed.

  'Major Braithwaite.' Sir Robert gave him the briefest of nods. From outside distant shouts, and the stamping and snorting of horses. Sir Robert glanced away, then: 'What brings you to Kingshill, sir? Why have you and your men intruded on my privacy? Where are my servants?'

  'Sir Robert, I must say to you at once that a great quantity of contraband goods has been discovered on your property.'

  'Contraband? Here?' With polite contempt, drawling the words.

  'Aye, sir. Here. We have strong reason to believe that a man named Scott lives here, and – '

  'Scott, did y'say?' A frown, looking at the others. Rennie did not meet his gaze.

  'Aye, that is the information in my possession. I am certain that – '

  'And the contraband is – where, exact? In the house?'

  'No, sir. Not in the house itself. In an outbuilding – '

  'What outbuilding? In which direction?'

  'I required my men to search the buildings to the west of the house – '

  'You are aware, I trust, that the many outbuildings beyond the house, on the western side, attach to a neighbouring property? Yes?'

  Major Braithwaite began, nearly imperceptibly, to lose confidence. 'You – you are saying they are not your buildings?'

  Sir Robert moved to his desk, laying aside his hat and stick. He took a pinch of snuff from the silver box on the desk, and:

  'Mm. Mm. The neighbouring property, as I thought y'would have ascertained beforehand, Major Braithwaite . . .' a black glance '. . . is derelict. The house has been empty these many years, and the sheds, greenhouses, an aviary, and so forth, mouldering and decaying, lie contiguous with my own land. They are nothing to do with Kingshill – excepting in proximity – nor with me.' He rang a table bell. 'Where are my servants? I hope that your men have not disturbed them?'

  'They – a man was restrained, that was very violent when we first entered the house. And the woman has been locked in the kitchen.'

  'You have locked up my servants?'

  'Sir Robert, I can only – I must discover the facts as to the question of those buildings, sir. If you will excuse me – '

  'I will not, sir. I will not. You will oblige me by explaining yourself.'

  'Sir Robert, I have my duty to undertake, and I – '

  'Your duty is to invade the homes of your betters, is it?' Lifting his head and staring blackly, bleakly at the major. 'Out of addled, contemptible, snarling underdog spite? Hey!'

  '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. Pre
sently 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 . . . ?'

  'No. No, I had not.'

  'Will not you stay here again tonight?'

  'I cannot. I must return to the Drawbridge Inn at once.'

  'William, you have not forgot what we arranged between us, for our future . . . ?'

  'Eh? No no, in course I have not. However, I must tell you that – '

  'Will not you call me Sylvia, as I have asked you to?' Again attempting to take his hand in hers. Her very anxiety, her gazing into his eyes and feeling for his hand, made Rennie nervous, and inclined to withdraw. He simply could not allow pleading of this kind to impinge on his urgent design.

  'My dear. Sylvia. Please not to make my task more onerous – ' Then, seeing her distress at this adjective: 'Nay, I did not mean onerous. I meant, I meant that just now, my dear, I must give all my thought and energy to the task ahead. It will not help me, you know, if you cling – '

  'Cling? You think me clinging?' Hurt and offended. 'I have no wish to impede you, sir, by clinging.' Withdrawing her own hand now, and raising a lace handkerchief to her mouth. 'If that is what you think of me, then – '

  'Nay, nay – I do not.' Rennie felt himself increasingly at a loss. 'In course I do not, good heaven.'