Chapter 37

Edited by Old Rotorhead

As Jake and his escort disappeared out of the room the Inspector’s gavel banged for a final time.

“This hearing is adjourned,” the Board of Trade Inspector averred.

There was silence for a few seconds before there was a rush as most of the audience tried to get out of the door at the same time. By the time anyone emerged onto the highway all they could see was the rear end of the coach that had taken Jake away. The consensus of the conversations that ensued amongst the patriarchate of Bristol was that something seemed very wrong. As word spread this would also be the opinion of the multitude of commoners that made up the citizens of the city.

Within the hour the Mercury had a single news sheet on the streets. It communicated almost nothing other than the bare bones of the event, but then with the best will, in the time available that was all that could be expected. It was, however, enough that a crowd started to form outside the police station calling if not for the release of their favourite son, then information as to what was going on.

Angelica had been sitting at the very back of the enquiry and so had heard the statement accusing Jake of murder, and had seen him arrested. She was, therefore, the first one out of the door to see him get into a closed carriage with his escort. The driver cracked his whip and they sped off on the road that would eventually lead to London. She had also noted the coat of arms on the door, although she had no idea to whom it belonged. She immediately made her way back to the office to get a message sent to Hermione. Angelica wrote out the telegram, gave it to Anthony with the cash to pay for it, and sent him off. She had already informed Dennis, who now joined her to walk to the police station to see if they could find out more.

As they approached the police station there was a large crowd assembled in front of it. As Angelica walked through, it almost magically opened for her, with Dennis tagging along behind. They reached the steps to the police station where a uniformed sergeant was trying to tell the crowd that Jake wasn’t there, and that they knew nothing about it. An inspector came out as Angelica and Dennis arrived at the top of the steps.

“Miss Gray,” he greeted her, and acknowledged Dennis with a nod. “We’ve heard that Sir Jacob has been arrested, but we know nothing about it. He certainly isn’t here, but we seem unable to persuade this lot of that.”

“I was at he inquiry,” said Angelica. “I heard Sir Jacob accused by Herbert Austin, and saw the Inspector who arrested him take him away. They left in a closed coach with a coat of arms on the door, and took the road towards London. So I know he isn’t here, but I thought you’d know about it.”

“Nothing,” said the Inspector. “But it does seem odd that a man of Sir Jacob’s stature should be arrested on the say so of a common seaman. You know yourself, Miss Gray, that when a member of the aristocracy makes an accusation we have to act on that. But the other way round we want some evidence.”

“I remember,” said Angelica grimly. “I’ll speak to the crowd, a lot of them know me.”

Angelica faced the restive crowd and held up her hand.

“Men and Women of Bristol! Many of you will know that I am Angelica Gray, Sir Jacob’s ward. Cap’n Jake isn’t here. The local constabulary know nothing about this.”

“And you believe them?” called a voice.

“Yes,” Angelica replied. “And I have reason to. I saw him taken away in a coach that left on the road to Bath, London is beyond that. I think that’s where they’ve taken him. They may be able to convict him on lies in London. They certainly wouldn’t in Bristol!”

There were cheers until she held her hand up again.

“We’re going to get to the bottom of this. Why is Herbert Austin lying? Where are the rest of the crew? Anyone with any information come and find me, or Mr Green at Underwoods. We’ll give you something for your time and trouble. Cap’n Jake is innocent, and we want him back in Bristol!”

If Angelica ever decided to go into politics, not that she could become a member of parliament, or even vote of course, but she’d do very well at the hustings if she supported a male candidate.

The crowd started to disperse, muttering, London and its denizens were not popular in Bristol.

Angelica turned to the inspector.

“I hope you will keep us informed of any developments, Inspector.”

“Of course, Miss Gray,” the inspector breathed a sigh of relief. “And thank you for calming the crowd. They were not going to listen to us.”

As Angelica turned to descend the steps she swayed slightly. Dennis took her arm.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

Angelica looked at him. “Yes,” she said. “It ... takes a bit out of you.”

“You were magnificent,” Dennis told her.

“I always think of Caroline. What she would do.”

“Be very proud of you,” said Dennis. “As am I. What are we going to do now?”

As they reached street level the question was partially answered as they were met by a young woman.

“Miss Gray,” she said, “That address was awe inspiring! I’m Belinda Cooper of the Mercury. May I have a word?”

“Of course,” said Angelica, although she could see that Dennis was not keen on the idea.

“You were at the Inquiry, so you heard what was said by both Sir Jacob and Herbert Austin?”

“Yes,” said Angelica and gave the reporter a near enough verbatim account.

“Thank you. Perhaps we could share any information,” said Miss Cooper. “It may be nothing, but I was at Temple Meads station just now, and my contact told me that the London express was held for half an hour at Keynsham. The company were not happy about it.”

“Where?” Angelica was somewhat taken aback.

“Keynsham, that’s K E Y N...”

“Yes, Miss Cooper, I know how to spell it, but it’s a fair distance to run that coach at the pace it left here, I should think.” Angelica opined.

“I expect they slowed when they were out of sight,” suggested Dennis turning to Miss Cooper. “Did your contact say why the train was held?”

“He didn’t know, but I could try to find out. Someone there must know.”

“I don’t suppose it is very important. But it does indicate a lot of planning to ensure they could get Jake away without a fuss,” said Dennis. “You are right, of course, Angelica. There is no way you could get a jury in Bristol to find him guilty. Certainly not on evidence as flimsy as that.”

“I have to ask,” Miss Cooper said, tentatively. “You believe he is innocent?”

“Yes!” came in unison from Dennis and Angelica.

Angelica went on. “It is completely out of character. I know there are a lot of stories about his derring do, some of the seamen who’ve sailed with him tell the tales for free drinks. But killing in cold blood, believe me, isn’t part of those tales. And it isn’t part of him.”

It was the following day before a cart of sufficient size could be hired, and it took most of the day before they reached the Chicago and Rock Island Railroad’s freight house. The freight house was a large building with box cars coming and going on the one side, loading or unloading, and carts and vans collecting and delivering on the other. It was very busy but eventually he found a man to help him. Did all these men have a half chewed stogie stuck to their lips he wondered.

“What’ve ya got?” he asked around the stogie. “And where’s it goin’?”

“It’s going to San Francisco,” said Nathaniel.

“Not on this road it ain’t. We only go to Council Bluffs, then it’s gotta cross the river to the Union Pacific. Office is down there,” he waved his hand towards the far end of the building.

Nathaniel had to walk the length of the building weaving in and out of piles of merchandise. It took a while to get the paperwork sorted. It hadn’t been cheap to get the crate here, to forward it to Council Bluffs was another considerable sum, then there was the river crossing and then three further railroads to get to San Francisco. The cost was going to be an eye watering amount.

So far his experience as a merchant sailor had covered the engines, for which he had originally been taken on, and training as a deck officer, which included handling the ship and its navigation. What he had no idea about, and again realised he must learn, was the financial aspects of the ship, and the business of ship owning. Had he known about those financial aspects, he would have worried a great deal less about the money he was spending. He knew his mother had a large interest in the business, and that she had negotiated a deal with Jake, and that Jake ensured that she had sufficient funds to live in Italy with her companion. He had occasionally wondered why. He was sure Nerissa knew something, but when he had asked her, she had changed the subject.

Having paid he eventually he found his man again.

The necessary papers were fixed to the crate.

“Now,” said the man, still chewing the stogie. “Termorrah it’ll be loaded, an’ I suggest you take the train to ‘Bluffs an’ wait for it. When it gets there you can see it onto the ferry.”

Nathaniel decided this help and information was worth another couple of dollars. How, he wondered, was he going to account for all the money he kept handing out as tips and bribes. He went to book a seat to Council Bluffs. This merely involved handing over the appropriate fare, and taking the ticket. The clerk seemed to be the first railroad employee who didn’t require a tip.

The next morning he left his hotel in a cab and arrived at the station in good time. The train was already waiting although there seemed to be few passengers about, but he was early. He handed his baggage into the head end car, then took his ticket to the conductor who directed him to pick a seat. He mounted the steps, wondering why the Americans hadn’t mastered the art of platform building, found a seat, and settled to await departure. Until then, as any off duty sailor would, he decided to have a nap, wedged himself into the corner and went to sleep.

Victoria’s initial shock turned to fury as Angelica told her what had happened. Her pregnancy was developing as it should and her health was perfect, but Angelica was worried about her reaction.

She had left Dennis to go to the bank to see if Lord Kingswood was there, and she had gone to tell Victoria.

“Victoria, you mustn’t take on so, it isn’t good for you,” she told her.

Victoria breathed deeply. “You are right,” she said, making an effort to relax. “But I knew that sooner or later the people who were associated with Portmahon over our little girls would raise their heads again. Now, I think they are in league with the Fenians, which makes them traitors to the Crown too. I hope Peter can do something about it.”

Angelica came around Victoria’s desk and hugged her. Victoria relaxed.

“That’s better,” said Angelica. “Now, where is His Lordship?”

“London.”

“We need to telegraph him,” Angelica told her. “And I will write out a report of what happened that we can send.”

“Yes, you sit here and do that, here’s pen and paper.” said Victoria. “Andrew!” she yelled. Victoria was now recovered from the shock, and back to her usual self.

Andrew chard, her personal assistant came in.

“Telegram, Andrew, to my husband, you have the address. JAKE ARRESTED FOR MURDER STOP TAKEN TO LONDON STOP REPORT FOLLOWS BY POST STOP VICTORIA”

“Is this true, Milady?”

Victoria looked at him. “Er ... yes, right away, madam.”

“Does Hermione know?” she asked.

“Yes,” Angelica replied. “First thing I did.”

“Good. Have you had lunch?” Victoria asked Angelica, who shook her head. “I’ll send out for something.”

Jake was, naturally, very unhappy. He had been hustled out of the inquiry and into a coach, taken to Keynsham, some stations up the line, and then onto the London train. This had clearly been held since the station clock showed it to be half an hour behind schedule. He was now sitting on one side of the compartment with a large sized police sergeant beside him, and the inspector was sitting opposite him with the constable.

“Would you mind telling me what is going on, Inspector?” Jake asked as the train pulled out.

“I should have thought it was perfectly obvious,” Inspector Clewso replied. “You are charged with murder, we are taking you to London where you will be tried and hanged.”

“On the evidence of an ordinary seaman? I cannot think that you have any other,” replied Jake.

“It’s plenty enough, a hand picked jury will return the right verdict. You’ve upset too many important people. You’ll be disgraced and gone,” said the Inspector who seemed to have a personal interest.

“And what about evidence from the rest of the crew?” Jake asked.

“Ha! No one will find them,” he had an unpleasant expression on his face. “What’s a few seamen to anyone anyway?”

Jake was aghast. Seamen were part of the life blood of his business and he had great respect for them.

Jake looked at him. There was only one conclusion. “So you’re indulging in murder then,” said Jake, then paused, thinking. “Ah, you signed them on a coffin ship. Well, well. Somebody must be paying you well. Now, the only people, to my knowledge, that I have upset are Fenians,” Jake told him. “ I can understand they’d like to get even with me, but they’d just shoot me. I wouldn’t have thought they had enough money to pay for what you’re doing anyway. Unless they have some sort of hold over you. Have you men been paid?” he looked at the constable opposite who was looking a little uncomfortable, the sergeant sitting next to him, who he could see in the mirror opposite appeared to be equally uncomfortable. “If you are being paid by them, or from him, then you are a traitor. And traitors hang.”

“Shut up,” snarled the inspector. “Take no notice of him,” he said to the others. “I’m not talking about Fenians, and there’s only one person here who’s going to hang.”

Jake looked at him appalled. “Oh! It’s the girls, isn’t it. You like to torture and rape little girls,” his lip curled in disgust. “We’ve got rid of two of you but...”

Jake broke off as the Inspector launched himself at him, his hands closing around Jake’s neck. It took a second for the sergeant to move, calling to the constable to assist. They hauled the inspector off Jake.

“Cuff him,” the sergeant told his constable. “Do it,” he said when the constable hesitated.

Jake’s neck was showing considerable bruising already. The sergeant removed his hand cuffs and turned as Jake indicated the opposite seat where the Inspector was now red in the face and had difficulty breathing. It took but a few moments for him to collapse. The constable felt for a pulse.

“I think he’s dead, sergeant,” he said.

The sergeant went over and checked for himself. “You’re right, Eccles. Better get those cuffs of and lay him on the seat.”

When they had done this, the sergeant sat down and wiped his forehead with a large red, spotted handkerchief.

“Well here’s a fine how d’ee do,” he said.

Jake was massaging his neck. He spoke in little more than a whisper.

“A mess,” he managed to say. “The train stops in Swindon shortly. They can take him off there, and then we can go on to London. You can get some food too, I don’t think I could eat anything, but a drink would be very welcome.”

“Right you are, sir, that’s what we’ll do.” the sergeant replied. Despite the fact that Jake was officially a prisoner, the sergeant was shocked by what had happened, and however pained Jake’s voice was, it was still the voice of command. “I hope we can sort everything out there,” he finished.

“I’m sure we shall,” Jake replied.

It was late afternoon when the telegram from Angelica reached Wraxall Manor. Brightman took the envelope to the drawing room where Hermione, Susan and the Duchess were sitting. He offered the silver tray to Hermione who ripped the envelope open. She exclaimed an obscenity.

“Hermione! Where did you learn such language!” exclaimed the Duchess.

“The same place you did I expect, Mama,” Hermione fumed. “Jake has been arrested for murder! Damned ridiculous! Who the hell has said that ... it must be the mate on the ’Peninsular Trader’, but why?”

“Do try and act like a lady, Hermione,” her mother admonished. “Now, you appear to be indicating that this man is lying. Why would that be?”

“Someone is either paying him or has a hold over him. Now, I must get to London.”

“You can catch the train after breakfast,” said her mother.

“No, Mama. Right away.”

“Tonight, Hermione?”

“Yes, Mama. Tonight,” replied Hermione. “Susan, you come with me, Myrtle can follow tomorrow with the trunks. I’m sorry Mama, we will be back, but Jake is in trouble.”

“I’ve had the trap readied, Lady Hermione,” said Brightman, entering the drawing room. “I thought you might need it. I’ve despatched the stable lad to to make sure they hold the next train M’lady.”

“Brightman, you are a marvel,” said Hermione.

“Hermione, you’ve no luggage and you cannot travel without your maid,” the Duchess was quite shocked. “A lady simply doesn’t.”

“Mama, this lady even makes her own tea,” Hermione kissed her mother. “I’ll keep in touch. Let’s go, Susan.”

With coats and hats on and a valise that had been hastily packed by Myrtle, Hermione and Susan were soon on their way. The driver coaxed the old horse into a trot, but Hermione would have rather it had been a full gallop. They could see the train stopped at the station as they approached...

Mr Ingleby the station master was waiting for them.

“M’lady, we must hurry. I’ve asked for the train from Boston to Peterborough to wait for you, but we’re ten minutes late already.”

“What about the London express, Mr Ingelby?” asked Hermione.

“I’ve asked for them to hold it, M’Lady,” Ingleby replied, but it looked as though he had little faith that they would.

Hermione went to the engine and gave the driver a crown. “Both of you have a drink when you’ve made up the ten minutes,” she told them with a smile, and headed back to where the carriage door was held open for her.

The train arrived in Boston on time justifying Hermione’s faith in the application of a little encouragement. The Boston station master conducted Hermione and Susan to their compartment.

“I have called ahead, M’Lady. They will hold the London Express for you. If this train is on time that shouldn’t present any problem...”

Hermione reached into her purse. “Perhaps you could see that the driver appreciates the importance of my getting to the express on time.”

“Of course, M’Lady.”

The station master clearly had a word with the driver for the train fairly flew down the long straight track to Peterborough, even the signals when they reached the main line were set for them to get into the station as quickly as possible. Once again they were escorted by the station master, a much more important man at this large main line station. The rest of the journey was, if not relaxed, at least not so fraught, and they arrived at Kings Cross station in late evening. A cab took them to their usual hotel.

Hermione and Susan, feeling somewhat the worse for wear arrived in the hotel foyer to find the manager waiting for them.

“Lady Russington, Miss Gray, welcome,” he greeted them in a voice that reminded Hermione of nothing so much a rich hot chocolate. “Your mother, the Duchess, wired us to expect you, M’Lady. We have your suite ready for you and Miss Gray.”

“Thank you Mr Rogers, but are you sure you can accept travellers with no luggage?” Hermione quipped.

“For you, Lady Russington, there will never be a problem.” Rogers smiled.

They were conducted to their suite where there were maids to take care of them, and they were provided with a light supper.

Nathaniel had reached Sacramento after a journey through some awe inspiring Rocky Mountains and the Sierra Nevada Mountains. He had wondered whether they would be stopped by Indians, or some gang intent on relieving the passengers of their valuables, but nothing had happened. The small towns they passed through on the journey all seemed much the same as, to be honest, did much of the country to begin with. The stations, known as depots, were all build out of sawn boards with tar paper roofs, and all seemed to have a number of men lounging about waiting for someone to need workers. One or two passengers would get on or off. There was invariably a corral with a few poor looking beasts waiting for whatever, and occasionally an open or covered wagon or a light canopied vehicle which, he was told, was called a surrey.

Crossing the Missouri River to the Union Pacific terminus had been accomplished without too much trouble. It was fortunate that some of those men who hung around the railroad depots were always on hand to assist, for a dollar or sometimes only a few cents, in handling freight. Equally the transfer to the Union Pacific train had been no problem. It was fortunate that there were sleeper cars consisting of multiple levels of bunks on either side, though sleeping in such confined quarters with other people snorting, snoring and whatever wasn’t easy. Fortunately the swaying of the car was not unlike the motion of a ship which helped Nathaniel. At Ogden they had changed to the Central Pacific Railroad, but fortunately so did the freight car.

The railway track was nothing like that which he was used to in England. It was much lighter and the rails were spiked to the sleepers, which were called ties. The track parts that in England were called points, here were called switches or turnouts, which seemed much more sensible. As an engineer he had taken time to examine the locomotives, and to talk to the drivers, again a difference since they were called engineers. The locomotives themselves were very different, and instead of having the rigid plate frames that British locomotives had, these were built from rolled bar sections which made them quite flexible, and suitable for the poorer quality track. It was an education in coping with the prodigious distances involved in a reasonable time frame, which, if the track had been laid to British standards, would have taken years longer.

Figuring out how the trains were controlled was more difficult, and although occasionally there was a siding with a train going in the other direction waiting for them, Nathaniel’s trains were never stopped to wait.

The next thing was to transfer to the Western Pacific, that would take him and the precious cylinder to San Francisco where he would deliver it to ’Rigel’ and Captain Fitz. It had been a tiring journey, and he wondered just how Fitz and Lady Beatrice had coped.

Meanwhile Beatrice was bored. She knew that the new cylinder was on it’s way, and a wharf had been booked, and a tug to take them there, but that was a few days away. Meantime, the subject of the repairs to the ship’s engine had been exhausted, and she was bored. Her night time dalliances with Amanda and Fitz, separately, of course, were fine, but she needed something to excite her interest during daylight hours. There must be something...

When Lord Kingswood returned to his office after lunch, both his Inspector and the telegram from Victoria were waiting for him. He acknowledged the inspector as he ripped open the envelope. He read the telegram and grimaced. He looked at the Inspector.

“The game’s afoot, Inspector,” he passed the telegram to the Inspector.

“Yes, M’lord.” he read the telegram. “I would like to see that report when it arrives.”

“So you shall. Now, what have you found out?”

“M’lord, we got a whiff of something when the train stopped at Swindon and the body of Inspector Clewso was taken off.”

“Good heavens! Dead? How did he die?”

“Natural causes it would appear, M’lord. He had a massive heart attack. What caused it we don’t know.”

Lord Kingswood shook his head. “Young Jake always manages to get out of scrapes, but this is a novelty.”

“Not out of the woods yet, M’lord. He is at Paddington Green police station in a cell. Sergeant Pepper took him there when they got to Paddington. Pepper got it in the neck for not having him handcuffed, but then explained that Clewso had attacked Sir Jacob, and with the state of his neck he wasn’t likely to be able to run far. Besides, as he pointed out, Sir Jacob is a gentleman.”

“His neck, Inspector? Pepper got it in the neck and Sir Jacob?”

“In Pepper’s case it was merely a figure of speech, M’lord. As for Sir Jacob, Clewso tried to throttle him, M’lord. I have seen Sir Jacob, and there is no doubt about it. If they hadn’t pulled Clewso off when they did there would likely have been two bodies taken off the train.”

“Not good. So what is the state of play now?”

“As I said, M’lord, Sir Jacob is in a cell, neither the superintendent not the commissioner have any idea what is going on, they have a witness statement, but no witness, and of course no arresting officer. Add to that they have a prisoner, a knight of the realm, who has been quite badly injured by the arresting officer who is now deceased and you have the recipe for what they are doing. Running around like headless chickens.

“Sounds like I’d better get down there and take advantage of the situation,” said Lord Kingwood drily. “Would you care to accompany me, Inspector?”

“I’ve plenty to do M’lord, but I think I can make time for a little entertainment,” the Inspector grinned.

Beatrice walked out of her bathroom to where Amanda was laying out a dress for her.

“I know what we’ll do,” she exclaimed. “We’ll go and visit your Aunt Fanny’s house and surprise her.”

“We don’t know that it is her house,” said Amanda. “I could be another Francis Collins, it’s not an uncommon name.”

“Then we’ll just say that we thought it was someone we knew and that’ll be that. It’s got to be better than doing nothing waiting for that blasted cylinder to arrive. Do you remember the address?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Good. I’ll get Ben to order us a carriage for the day, then breakfast, and then we’ll go.”

After waving Fitz off Beatrice went back to her room leaving Amanda to to wait for carriage. Bea returned after a few minutes and they set off.

“Why did you go back for your gun?” asked Amanda. She was now well acquainted with her mistress and was quite sure that she was right.

“Oh ... well, it’s a bit of an adventure isn’t it?” said Bea. “And you wouldn’t go on an adventure without ... protection ... would you? Besides, I feel naked without one!” an almost triumphant finish, because she’d managed to cover her surprise with a reasonable excuse, Amanda knew her far too well. Truth to tell, if this was the house of Amanda’s aunt she felt that it was the next thing to entering the lion’s den. Well, lioness’s.

It was some way to get to the house, but it was a fine day and a pleasure to tour through the city, out through the suburbs and on into an area where the large houses were well spaced out. Eventually the driver stopped at the address he had been given. Beatrice directed the driver to pull up the drive and stop at the front entrance of what was a large and imposing house. The grounds were well kept and the whole place had an air of opulence.

They expected a footman to come out and assist, but that did not happen. So Amanda alighted from the carriage and handed Bea down. As they approached the front door it opened to reveal a tall, thin man in a parody of a butler’s outfit. He was completely bald and his face had all the correct items, eyes, nose, mouth and so on, but they didn’t seem to quite conform to the normal layout. His ears were on either side of his head, but that was about all that could be said for them, he had, perhaps been a prize fighter since their resemblance to cauliflower florets was remarkable.

“Lady Beatrice Hatherley and Miss Amanda Collins to see Miss Frances Collins,” Bea announced themselves.

“Yair, she’s in,” said the butler, and turned to lead them into the house.

Bea looked at Amanda and raised an eyebrow in question. They followed him. He arrived at the double doors to a large salon.

“Yer visitors,” he said, by way of announcement.

The occupant of a large, almost throne like chair rose to greet them.

“Lady Beatrice, Amanda, welcome,” said Francis Collins, “I’m so pleased that you found your way here, I was expecting you sooner, but I know you’ve had a lot to do. Now do forgive Pierre, his abilities as a butler are sadly lacking, but he does have certain other attributes which make him indispensable to me, as you will find out,” she smiled.

Behind her, Bea heard the unmistakable sound of a revolver being cocked.

“If you’d like to take a seat ladies, I’ll explain a few things to you,” said Frances.

Both Hermione and Susan slept well, although both were awake early and dressed in yesterday’s clothing ready to face breakfast and whatever the day might bring, good or bad.

On arriving in the dining room, the waiter conducted them towards an empty table. Their route took them past a table that was occupied by two gentlemen who had their backs to them. As they passed one of them spoke.