Deliverance: A Justice Belstrang Mystery by John Pilkington (top 10 most read books in the world .TXT) 📗

best course was to follow them and see where they ended up. It transpired that it was the right decision, by which I came to understood what was being done, here in a busy harbour in broad daylight.

Looking about them, the men set off through the throng, calling for people to make way. I followed as they weaved between obstacles, bales and stacks of timber. Finally, having passed two smaller vessels, they came to a halt alongside a good-sized merchantman, her foredeck towering above the quayside. A broad gangplank with a handrail sloped from the vessel’s high side down to the ground, and one of the porters hastened up it to where two seamen stood. While they conferred briefly, I made my way idly to the stern of the ship, and saw her name painted in red lettering: Waarheid.

I would recall later that the word meant truth, but it was of small consequence, for I knew what language that was: the ship was Dutch. And I was non-plussed: was this Dutch merchantman bound for London and the Royal Armouries - or was she bound for the Mediterranean, and thence for far-off Constantinople, and the armouries of the Great Turk?

I did not attempt to find out. Instead I turned and made my way back to where the Lady Ann was moored. I would go aboard, accost Captain Spry and try to squeeze a few answers from him – whether he was willing or not.

SEVEN

As usual the captain was morose, and I was obliged to remind him that I did business with Tobias Russell… private business, I added. Yet it failed to impress the man; he was not only bad-tempered that morning, but taut and preoccupied, his eyes straying often to the cannons as, one by one, they were raised laboriously from his hold and lowered to the quay.

‘I’ve no time for this, Pride,’ he snapped. ‘Return tomorrow morning, and I’ll take you back to Lydney as I was ordered. Then you and I are done.’

‘What’s happened to the guards?’ I asked. ‘Are they at dinner?’

He made no answer, only looked away. But knowing I should be bold as William Pride should be, I pressed on.

‘Do the Mountfords always use Dutch vessels? I couldn’t help but see where some of your cargo went.’

There was a moment then, before Spry turned somewhat slowly to face me – and now, there was not merely suspicion in his gaze: there was alarm.

‘What in God’s name is that to you?’

‘It’s my business to know such things,’ I returned. ‘Did Russell not tell you, in his letter?’

‘He did not.’

‘Well, no matter…’ I put on a look of unconcern. ‘It’s of no consequence to me who carries your goods, so long as they arrive safely.’ With that, I allowed my gaze to stray to the quayside. The two porters had not yet returned with their barrow, but the third man had thrown a covering over the smaller stack of cannon, and was now seated upon it. Facing Spry again, I feigned a yawn.

‘Where’s your friend, the Turk?’ I enquired. ‘I expected him to be out here, watching.’

But this time, my answer was sharp. Without warning, Spry’s hand shot up to grasp the collar of my shirt.

‘What game do you play?’ His voice was cracked as an old pot. ‘Or mayhap I should ask, who sent you?’

‘I’ve told you I’m a man of business, and my business is gunnery,’ I returned, my heart making a jump. ‘And if you don’t let go of me, I’ll…’

My hand was on my sword-hilt, the two of us almost touching. I smelled the man’s sour breath, and put on as threatening a look as I could – whereupon there was a sudden noise from the rear of the vessel. Looking aside quickly, I saw two of Spry’s crewmen appear from beneath the rear decking, throwing aside the sheet that served as a screen. With them were the two soldiers in royal livery… and one glance was enough: both guards were so drunk, they could barely stand.

But the tension was broken. At once Spry released me and stepped away, turning to his guests. Those two, I realised, had been plied with drink while part of the King’s ordnance was being rolled away… so simply, and so brazenly. Breathing hard, I glanced from the captain to his crewmen, one of whom threw him a knowing smirk.

‘I’ll be back in the morning, for the return voyage,’ I said to Spry. ‘Then as you said, we’re done.’

I moved swiftly to the gangplank and got myself ashore. As I walked away, I looked round to see the captain and his men helping the soldiers along the deck… and recalled that my earlier question had gone unanswered: where was Yakup?

But I dismissed the matter: doubtless he would leave England along with the Sultan’s cannons. I assumed I would not see him again… but in that respect, I was gravely mistaken.

***

I spent the remainder of the day in my chamber at the inn. I had called for pen, ink and paper which were brought at once – which afforded me some relief, after Henry Hawes’s refusal back at The Comfort. Now I could compose my report, which would help me put matters into focus. I began with my talk at the bedside of Richard Mountford, and detailed each subsequent day’s events until I arrived at Bristol. Here I broke off to take a supper, before returning to add a few questions to my account, to whit:

How many people were aware of this dangerous trade Tobias Russell was engaged in? Was Francis Mountford steeped in it, up to his neck? Could he even have ordered his uncle’s death, if John had uncovered what was going on? And finally, the question that had begun to gnaw at me:

Who were the Concord Men?

Alas, I