advertisements or subscriptions. But that still didn’t explain why Rossi had brought him here today. Or indeed, more to the point, why they had all been summoned.
Their nagging puzzlement was relieved only when the door opened to admit a middle-aged, balding man who walked with military stiffness. He carried a tall gray hat and wore an elegantly tailored coat of dark blue woolen broadcloth cut away to tails to reveal an oyster-gray vest above charcoal-gray trousers. These were fitted with suspenders and highlighted boots with a mirrorlike shine to match his well-manicured fingernails. An ivory silk scarf on a high stiff collar supported a slightly petulant face.
The four men stood instantly. “Sir,” murmured the soldiers and the magistrate.
But the patterer smiled broadly and said cheerfully, “Hello, darling!”
His Excellency, Lieutenant-General Ralph Darling, Governor of Britain’s farthest-flung flyspeck, was not amused.
CHAPTER THREE
The angel of death has been abroad throughout the land; you may almost hear the beating of his wings.
—John Bright, speech to the British House of Commons (1855)
T HE OFFICERS WERE VISIBLY SHOCKED BY THIS BRAZEN FAMILIARITY with the governor. Were Dunne a free man—an immigrant or an Emancipist—the governor could punish his disrespect by cutting him dead socially and making sure he received little or no government support. Were he a soldier, he could be flogged. Even as a ticket-of-leave man, a good-behavior convict excused from government labor to pursue his own work—as Dunne was—his parole could be revoked.
But, as only Rossi knew, and had earlier hinted to Dunne, Darling needed something, and badly enough to overlook insolence. So the governor simply glowered, grunted and sat down, motioning to the others to follow suit.
“Gentlemen,” Darling began, “no doubt you are wondering why I have called you together. So listen very carefully, I will say this only once. There is a mysterious and ominous development in the matter of the death of that soldier outside the public house.”
“Sir,” said Shadforth, “distasteful as it was—and I regret to say he was one of my men—surely it was just a murder for robbery or a drunken brawl? And he was only an officer. Why does it concern Your Excellency?”
“Because,” said Darling, “of this. It came addressed to me by mail today.”
He handed over an opened letter, bypassing Rossi, who seemed to know its contents. It was neatly written, with one corner folded down to contain a small copper, an English halfpenny.
The three men in turn studied the message:
The man I tore,
There will be more.
This is a clew:
First find a Jew.
Take care to choose him
Who knows the zuzim.
As several started to speak at once, the governor held up a hand. “In the interests of brevity, gentlemen, I can anticipate at least two obvious questions. No, I have no earthly notion what a zuzim is. And yes, this is about our murdered military man.” He held up a small brass button. “This bears the emblem of the 57th. It was contained in the flap with the coin.”
The governor turned to Dunne. “I have, I must say after much deliberation and with some misgivings, involved you in this because Captain Rossi is convinced you can help, as, he says, you have in the past. I’m persuaded that there is little chance of the conventional law officers or the armed forces solving the problem on their own. Someone is needed who can use more, shall we say, unconventional means.” Darling then seemed to change tack. “Why were you transported?”
So, thought Dunne, the governor didn’t know all about him. Or was it a trick? No one would expect him to remember the background of every one of the hundreds, perhaps thousands, of men and women he had seen paroled, but the life of every rogue was on record. And Rossi must have briefed him. Perhaps the wily old bird was using the lawyer’s ploy of never asking a question
Their nagging puzzlement was relieved only when the door opened to admit a middle-aged, balding man who walked with military stiffness. He carried a tall gray hat and wore an elegantly tailored coat of dark blue woolen broadcloth cut away to tails to reveal an oyster-gray vest above charcoal-gray trousers. These were fitted with suspenders and highlighted boots with a mirrorlike shine to match his well-manicured fingernails. An ivory silk scarf on a high stiff collar supported a slightly petulant face.
The four men stood instantly. “Sir,” murmured the soldiers and the magistrate.
But the patterer smiled broadly and said cheerfully, “Hello, darling!”
His Excellency, Lieutenant-General Ralph Darling, Governor of Britain’s farthest-flung flyspeck, was not amused.
CHAPTER THREE
The angel of death has been abroad throughout the land; you may almost hear the beating of his wings.
—John Bright, speech to the British House of Commons (1855)
T HE OFFICERS WERE VISIBLY SHOCKED BY THIS BRAZEN FAMILIARITY with the governor. Were Dunne a free man—an immigrant or an Emancipist—the governor could punish his disrespect by cutting him dead socially and making sure he received little or no government support. Were he a soldier, he could be flogged. Even as a ticket-of-leave man, a good-behavior convict excused from government labor to pursue his own work—as Dunne was—his parole could be revoked.
But, as only Rossi knew, and had earlier hinted to Dunne, Darling needed something, and badly enough to overlook insolence. So the governor simply glowered, grunted and sat down, motioning to the others to follow suit.
“Gentlemen,” Darling began, “no doubt you are wondering why I have called you together. So listen very carefully, I will say this only once. There is a mysterious and ominous development in the matter of the death of that soldier outside the public house.”
“Sir,” said Shadforth, “distasteful as it was—and I regret to say he was one of my men—surely it was just a murder for robbery or a drunken brawl? And he was only an officer. Why does it concern Your Excellency?”
“Because,” said Darling, “of this. It came addressed to me by mail today.”
He handed over an opened letter, bypassing Rossi, who seemed to know its contents. It was neatly written, with one corner folded down to contain a small copper, an English halfpenny.
The three men in turn studied the message:
The man I tore,
There will be more.
This is a clew:
First find a Jew.
Take care to choose him
Who knows the zuzim.
As several started to speak at once, the governor held up a hand. “In the interests of brevity, gentlemen, I can anticipate at least two obvious questions. No, I have no earthly notion what a zuzim is. And yes, this is about our murdered military man.” He held up a small brass button. “This bears the emblem of the 57th. It was contained in the flap with the coin.”
The governor turned to Dunne. “I have, I must say after much deliberation and with some misgivings, involved you in this because Captain Rossi is convinced you can help, as, he says, you have in the past. I’m persuaded that there is little chance of the conventional law officers or the armed forces solving the problem on their own. Someone is needed who can use more, shall we say, unconventional means.” Darling then seemed to change tack. “Why were you transported?”
So, thought Dunne, the governor didn’t know all about him. Or was it a trick? No one would expect him to remember the background of every one of the hundreds, perhaps thousands, of men and women he had seen paroled, but the life of every rogue was on record. And Rossi must have briefed him. Perhaps the wily old bird was using the lawyer’s ploy of never asking a question
Similar Books
To Catch a Treat
Linda O. Johnston
Lorik The Protector (Lorik Trilogy)
Toby Neighbors
Hunting Wolf: Black Mesa Wolves #3
J.K. Harper
The Odin Mission
James Holland
Burial
Graham Masterton
Furyous Ink
Saranna DeWylde
Demonkeepers
Jessica Andersen
When Hell Freezes Over
Darrien Lee
