The Scent of Betrayal Read online

  ‘With respect, Señor, you did not hear properly what the good Captain said. He used the word sequester. Even that makes me uncomfortable, but I have a problem that presents no other solution. It is necessity that forces me to this. I have the safety of my King’s possessions to protect, therefore I must act to do so. But I fully intend that you should be reimbursed, in full, for any sum of money we take from you.’

  ‘How?’

  Both brothers had spoken simultaneously, and for a moment de Carondelet didn’t know who to respond to. He ended up looking at the table, rather than the penetrating stares of the Ludlows. ‘The first thing I shall do is allow your French passengers to land in New Orleans. They may settle here or go upriver as they wish. As to the money, I can give you a draft on the Spanish treasury for the appropriate sum.’

  ‘And would that include your regrets, Barón?’

  ‘Why should it, Captain? Are you implying that my sovereign would not meet my obligations?’

  The lack of passion in the Governor’s voice was as clear an indication as was needed that he knew, as well as his guests, the problems attendant upon such a course. Certainly his King would not repudiate his request, but it could take twenty years to achieve repayment, with most of the money going to greedy Spanish courtiers, bribed to use their influence on a reluctant and often barren exchequer.

  ‘I cannot say that your proposal appeals to us.’

  De Fajardo de Coburrabias, who’d been silent, rejoined the conversation. ‘There is one other method by which His Excellency could repay you. One perhaps that would be more speedy and more certain.’

  ‘And what is that?’ demanded Harry, suspiciously.

  It was de Carondelet who replied, ‘Your brother referred to your skill at the art of investigation, Captain Ludlow. And I must say that tonight you have proved his assertion. I was impressed with the way that you extracted conclusions from such scant information as that which you found aboard the Gauchos.’

  De Carondelet paused, his huge blue eyes boring into Harry’s.

  ‘I thought perhaps you might be tempted to recover the gold and silver I lost, and in the process bring to book the murderer of Captain Rodrigo. I do assure you, should you find it you may take it as payment for what which I’m forced to borrow from you.’

  The silence that followed lasted a long time. James said nothing, knowing that it was Harry’s place to propose any response. In his mind he was wondering if all those things his brother had ordered before they left, the explosives and bottles full of turpentine, were about to be put into use.

  ‘What about me, my ship, and my crew?’

  ‘You are free to depart from New Orleans, Captain,’ de Carondelet replied. ‘That is, if you wish to accept my offer of a draft on the Spanish treasury.’

  ‘And if not?’

  ‘Then I require your parole.’

  ‘Just mine?’

  San Lucar de Barrameda gave a wolfish grin, but it was de Coburrabias who replied.

  ‘It gives me no pleasure to say this, Captain Ludlow, but it would, of necessity, apply to everyone aboard your ship.’

  ‘What sort of parole?’ asked Harry.

  ‘That you undertake no action without my express agreement,’ said de Carondelet. ‘That you do nothing on our soil that will harm either the Spanish crown or the Colony of Louisiana.’

  ‘And what if that parole clashes with my need to find your ingots? The two may be incompatible.’

  ‘I cannot see how,’ said de Barrameda.

  ‘Then you are, as I suspected from our very first meeting, a fool, Señor.’

  De Coburrabias couldn’t help himself. He burst out laughing. De Barrameda had gone pale, his thin lips compressed so hard that his thin moustaches seemed to join as one, and de Carondelet had dropped his head, clearly not wishing to make eye contact with anyone. James had no need for such restraint.

  ‘Well said, Harry! And about time.’

  ‘It is perfectly obvious to even the dimmest creature,’ Harry continued, ‘that only those who knew where the bullion was stored, and which ship it was on, could have had a hand in stealing it. If you want my parole, Barón, then I require something from you in return, and that is a complete list of everyone who knew those secrets.’

  ‘No!’ snapped San Lucar de Barrameda.

  ‘It will do no harm, Don Francisco,’ said de Fajardo de Coburrabias. ‘And Captain Ludlow can hardly make any progress himself without such information.’

  ‘Am I right in assuming that you knew?’ Harry asked the soldier.

  ‘I did. In fact I was present at the moment Captain de Geurin placed the ingots in the casks. Immediately after that I left for Havana to collect my replacements.’

  Harry looked keenly at de Barrameda, but without eliciting any response, so he turned back to de Carondelet. ‘Was I correct about the members of your Cabildo?’

  ‘I cannot have such upright men under suspicion,’ he replied evasively.

  ‘That pirate you captured, Charpentier. Would I be allowed to question him?’

  ‘Why?’ demanded de Barrameda.

  ‘He is naturally a suspect, is he not?’ asked James.

  ‘The pirates never got out of Barataria Bay, that I can assure you.’

  ‘Nevertheless, he will know of the location of his ships,’ said Harry, ‘since the one fact which is absolute is this: that whoever made that rendezvous with the Gauchos did so in some kind of vessel.’

  De Barrameda’s voice rose till it was close to a shout. ‘It was not a pirate!’

  ‘Perhaps it was a galley of some sort.’

  ‘It is not something I wish to decide on the spur of the moment,’ said de Carondelet, quickly. ‘I will let you know within twenty-four hours.’

  ‘And until then?’ demanded de Barrameda, still smarting from what had been said.

  ‘Until then,’ said Harry, coldly, ‘you have my assurance that I will do nothing to embarrass you.’

  ‘Oh, I think you’ve done quite enough of that already, Captain,’ replied de Coburrabias gaily.

  De Carondelet slapped the table with the flat of his hand. ‘Enough!’

  ‘Will twenty-four hours give you the time you need?’ asked Harry, not in the least cowed by the Governor’s sudden display of temper.

  ‘What?’

  ‘My brother is wondering whether that is sufficient for you to carry out your own investigations,’ said James. ‘There is also the question of what happens if you’re successful, sir.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Will you, if you do discover who has stolen your treasure, hand our money back to us?’

  ‘That will depend on who has it,’ said de Barrameda.

  ‘Why should it depend on that?’ asked Harry.

  De Coburrabias answered. ‘We do have to regain possession of it.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ de Barrameda added, with a sneer, ‘if it’s in a very inaccessible place, we can let you get it for us.’

  Harry, who’d practically lounged in his chair throughout the discussion, sat forward suddenly.

  ‘Then I hope that it’s found aboard your ship. Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to come and take it off you.’

  San Lucar de Barrameda shot to his feet, towering over the table, and his hand reached, several times, for the sword he wasn’t wearing – an action which, for all its venom, took a great deal of the sting out of his response.

  ‘How dare you say such a thing!’

  James yawned. ‘You really mustn’t react like that, sir. After all, it was only a few hours ago that you accused us of exactly the same offence.’

  ‘I am an officer in the Spanish Navy.’

  ‘Ah, the poor King of Spain,’ James replied, ‘To be so ill served is a great misfortune.’

  ‘Sit down, please, Don Felipe,’ said de Carondelet. San Lucar de Barrameda looked set to argue, which produced another peremptory slap of the table from his superior, which forced him to comply. Then he faced t
he Ludlows.

  ‘This behaviour may amuse you, but it does not me. You may return to your ship if you give me your parole for the next twenty-four hours. If not, I will be forced to detain you here.’

  Harry stood up, followed immediately by James.

  ‘Twenty-four hours, Barón. No more.’

  The first obvious sign of their changed circumstances lay in the lack of an escort back to the levee, and the brothers walked in silence, each occupied with his own thoughts. Harry’s mind was working on two levels, tempted in spite of himself to speculate on the identity of the murderer and thief while at the same time angrily plotting his next move. Experience told him to be dispassionate about de Barrameda, but it was hard. He was never more than a day’s sail from the Gauchos in a galley, and his lying about them could be an attempt to cover his tracks. Against that his ship had a substantial crew and, fresh from New Orleans, no need for food. Could such horrendous murders, which must have involved the women as well, have been undertaken without fear of exposure? Equally his sympathy for the way Fernandez was treated by his fellow officers mustn’t cloud his judgement. It was a fact, attested to by his Galician pilot, that the Cuban had nearly beaten a soldier to death. So under that placid exterior was a violent personality which had both the means and the opportunity to intercept the merchantman. De Coburrabias had arrived in one of the ships from Havana, six or seven days’ sailing away, so that ruled him out. Or did it? He, like the three magistrates, could easily have informed someone else, and set them on a rendezvous with Rodrigo. That possibility opened up so many avenues of enquiry that any attempt to find the culprit was doomed. And how did that notion square with the fact that the man clearly knew the person he invited aboard – or, Harry wondered, was he wrong about that? His mind went back to the notion of getting his ship clear, discarding one wild scheme after another.

  ‘What do we tell our French guests about this?’ asked James, bringing him down to terra firma with a bump.

  ‘As little as possible,’ Harry replied, emphatically. ‘Let’s just get them off the damned ship while de Carondelet’s offer lasts.’

  ‘Without their money!’

  ‘If the Barón finds out that it’s theirs we’ll never get it back.’

  ‘Will we get it back in any case?’

  ‘I cannot believe he’s going through with this, James. Surely he must realise what a heap of ordure will descend on him from Madrid if the King of Spain is forced to apologise.’

  ‘That’s a tall order, Harry.’

  ‘It’s not, James. I’ve told you, there are people who will use this as an excuse to start a war.’

  ‘I take it you were being truthful about the alternative?’

  ‘I’ve no intention of accepting a bill on the Spanish exchequer, if that’s what you mean. I’ve known people who willed such things to their children in the faint hope that they might eventually get paid.’

  ‘Could it be discounted?’

  ‘Not at a rate that I’d accept. We must assume that our passengers would feel the same. I imagine Madrid is sick to death of this place. Perhaps Louisiana is less of a drain on the treasury now that they’ve granted the Americans rights of deposit, but it’s still not wildly successful. If it was, de Carondelet wouldn’t need to filch our funds. He could borrow it from the leading traders. There’s Mexico City, of course. They will be accustomed to bailing them out …’

  ‘The news would certainly have reached London before that happened.’

  ‘It makes no sense,’ said Harry. ‘No sense at all.’

  They fell silent again, striding along on the flat beaten earth of the roadway. The place was still busy with that air of pleasant bustle which would continue late into the night, so common in cities in warm climates. Each intersection had its crowd, occupying the corners in a proprietory way, and again Harry was struck by the easy way in which the races seemed to mingle: when a carriage forced them to the side of the road it was as likely to be occupied by a dark-skinned owner as a European. They had to stop at one of the junctions, well lit by gas lamps, as two traps, single-horsed shays, disputed the right of passage. A crowd of people, seemingly intent on going in their direction, gathered round them.

  ‘You are, I believe, Captain Ludlow?’

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  THE VOICE was deep, even, and masculine, with just a hint of a Scottish burr. Harry spun round, to find himself looking at the top button of a black coat. He raised his eyes, wondering how this huge interloper who now stood between him and James had got so close without his having any notion of his presence. Now, looking at the face, he was struck by the slightly coppery tone of the skin, and the eyes, as black as the hair, so deep in colour as to seem almost blue. It was dominated by a beaked nose, made more prominent by the shadows of the flickering gaslight. He wasn’t smiling, though it couldn’t be said that he looked threatening. If anything he had an expression of confident passivity.

  ‘And who are you, sir?’

  ‘You are Captain Ludlow, I’m not mistaken?’

  ‘Harry,’ said James, who, given the broad shoulders, had to lean well forward to be seen. The man spun round to look at him, then turned back. ‘No, it is you.’

  His proximity, the way he towered over Harry, was slightly alarming. He tried to take a pace back, only to find himself hemmed in by the crowd. The giant lifted a massive hand, which made him shy away defensively, but it went above his head and though he didn’t see what gesture he employed the crush eased immediately.

  ‘I’m sorry to adopt such a way of meeting. But I can’t come out to your ship without attracting attention.’

  Now able to look him up and down, Harry wondered what he was on about. Given his height, girth, and bearing, this man would attract attention wherever he went. James walked round him to join his brother. The black eyes flicked from one to the other.

  ‘Perhaps if I was to introduce myself first. My name is Alexander McGillivray.’ There was a slight pause, during which he perceived no reaction, before he continued. ‘That would mean nothing to you.’

  ‘It does not,’ Harry replied. Now that he was free to do so, he took another step backwards, trying to get this McGillivray into focus. It was only then that he noticed that the two carriages, so disputatious and entangled a moment ago, had passed each other with ease.

  ‘Did you arrange this, sir?’ asked James.

  ‘I engineered our meeting, yes. It did occur to me that four of my men, armed, could be induced to bring you to me, but then you might’ve tried to fight them, and I would not want you harmed.’

  ‘Perhaps we would have inflicted harm rather than succumbed to it.’

  The eyes looked at them both again.

  ‘You might,’ he said to Harry. Then he turned his gaze on James. ‘You? No.’

  ‘This is damned impertinent, sir,’ said James.

  ‘It is. And it’s also very public. I wonder if you would step this way? One of the de Carondelet’s innovations, apart from his gas-lit streets, is the formation of patrols by a paid force of watchmen.’

  As he indicated the black-painted door that stood on the point of the corner, it opened immediately, revealing a dark unlit passage. Since whoever had pulled it was hidden, it seemed very like a conjuring trick. McGillivray stepped back into the gloom, his eyes momentarily distracted by his need to check their surroundings.

  ‘Why?’ asked Harry.

  ‘It was you who found the Gauchos. I need to know what happened to that ship.’ He spoke hurriedly, almost in panic. ‘My daughter was on board. I must try to find out what became of her. One of my men spoke to the sailors who manned your barge this morning. I know certain things were taken off the ship.’

  ‘Does the expression ‘Hoboi Hili Miko’ mean anything to you?’ asked James.

  ‘It does,’ replied McGillivray. ‘It is my name in Creek. It means Good Child King.’

  ‘You are a King?’

  ‘No, a chieftain, which comes to me by right – sin
ce I am a member of the Wind clan.’

  ‘Vent,’ said James, recalling the French word which had been embroidered alongside.

  ‘That is correct. Now, gentlemen. Will you accede to my request?’

  ‘Tell me, sir,’ said Harry. ‘Would you, in an unknown port, enter a darkened house with a complete stranger?’

  McGillivray’s eyes flicked over Harry’s shoulder and he spoke rapidly, in what both brothers assumed was the native tongue, before addressing them again.

  ‘I would if I had a knife pressed into my back.’

  Harry felt the pressure before he’d finished speaking. Not enough to puncture anything, but certainly sufficient to indicate that it was sharp enough to do so in an instant.

  ‘I mean you no harm, Captain Ludlow. But my own situation and my urgent need for information leave me little option. I have no desire to stay where my presence would be noted, otherwise I would have come to your ship.’

  ‘You wouldn’t have got close, sir, since it is surrounded by Spaniards.’

  ‘Had you not, fortuitously, come ashore, I would have been forced to do so. And had that occurred, I can assure you I would have succeeded.’

  ‘You have no need of my brother,’ said Harry, as the pressure in his back increased slightly.

  ‘Forgive me if I disagree, Captain. I have need of you both.’ His eyes were now on James. ‘Clearly, if you ask the meaning of ‘Hoboi Hili Miko’, you have some knowledge of events.’

  The sudden noise of a commotion, faint at first but growing louder, carried over the normal babble of the surroundings. McGillivray stepped further back, practically disappearing into the darkened doorway, to avoid detection.

  ‘Soldiers,’ whispered James.

  ‘No, sir. What you are witnessessing is the unpopularity of the Governor’s watchmen, who are approaching. You will be tempted to call out now, Captain Ludlow. Please don’t do so. We Indians are adept at disposing of people silently.’

  Harry stepped forward, taking James’s arm to propel him in the same direction, aware that he had no choice. He tried to sound relaxed, even though he felt anything but. ‘One second you mean us no harm and the next we’ve expired without so much as a whimper!’