“Mr. Cowley has decided to apprentice himself as a weaver, “ said Sir John to me. “It seems a good choice, all in all.”
“As good as any,” said Mr. Cowley. “It has the advantage of bein’ the sort of craft can be worked at whilst seated. For me, that’s now of considerable importance.”
“I’m sure you’re right, sir,” said I.
“It has another advantage,” said Sir John, “and that is that it is a very stable profession. So long as people need shirts and undergarments and bed linen, there will be a need for weavers.”
“I hope you’re right, Sir John,” said Mr. Cowley. “I’ve come in these last months not to count on anything as sure certain.”
“Quite understandable, young man. You may, however, rely upon that pension until such time as you can support yourself and your little family. I have the word of the Lord Chief Justice on that.”
“As you say, sir.”
Mr. Cowley said a good deal in that reply — not so much in what was spoken as how it was otherwise expressed. The look in his eyes said, Yes, I believe you have the word of the Lord Chief Justice on that, Sir John, but what is his word worth? And the twist of his mouth seemed to indicate he thought it not worth a great deal.
A pause ensued. Perhaps Sir John was assaying the ambiguity of that response which, though blind, he had perceived by his own mysterious means. In any case, it was Mr. Cowley who spoke up at last.
“Well,” said he, “I had best be getting on. You’ve plenty to do without me taking up more of your time.”
“You may take up as much of my time as you like,” said the magistrate.
“Perhaps I’ll come again.”
“Please do. I should be greatly disappointed if you did not.”
“Well, then. . goodbye to you.”
Mr. Cowley offered his hand, and Sir John groped for it. This was a rather awkward moment, for neither could quite reach the other. I urged Sir John a step forward, and brought his hand close; Cowley managed to grasp it without shifting the crutch which was tucked into the pit of his right arm. The handshake consummated, they parted.
“Goodbye to you, Jeremy. Thanks for seein’ me back that night.”
“Goodbye, Mr. Cowley.”
He turned nimbly on his crutches and, as I stepped aside to give him passage, went swiftly through the door and down the hall. He called out a farewell to Mr. Marsden as he sped past and received one in return. We waited, and in a few moments more, we heard the door to Bow Street slam closed.
“Tell me, Jeremy, what did you think of him? “
Not knowing quite what to say, I attempted some neutral comment. “He certainly manages well on his crutches,” said I.
“No doubt he does. But I wondered what you thought of him in a personal way.”
“Ah, well … I think him much changed, and so also did Mr. Marsden. He sought to prepare me before I came here to meet him.”
“Is Mr. Cowley so different physically?”
“He’s much changed,” I repeated. Then did I proceed to tell him how much and in what manner, Sir John was specially taken by my description of Cowley’s eyes, restless and staring by turns.
“ I daresay, “ he declared, “that they mirror what is going on within his head at this time. He has had a great shock from which he is only beginning to recover. I recall that when I lost my sight I went through a period of bitterness like unto Cowley’s. I could hear all that in his voice — such asperity, such anger! Yet for me it was but a phase. I was soon on to better things — as I hope he will be, too. While it may be true that while he was with us as Constable Cowley he was sorely in need of maturity, he now has what he then lacked. Ah, but maturity bought at such a price! It is fearsome even to contemplate!”
He remained as he was for some time, head bowed, stroking his chin, lost in thought. I neither said nor did anything to disturb him, for it had occurred to me that, likely as not, he was considering Mr. Cowley in the light of his own experience. I had no wish to trespass on territory so private.
Of a sudden, however, he raised up and turned in my direction. “Well, Jeremy,” said he, “what have you for me, eh?”
I read to him the report I had written. There is no need to quote from it here, for it was in its essentials like unto that which I presented earlier in this chapter; nor could I quote from it, for that matter, for the only copy was filed away long ago at Number 4 Bow Street. Accept it, reader, that I made to Sir John the same points I had done for your benefit. And indeed they intrigued him just as they had me.
“What was the purpose of this expedition?” he asked rhetorically. And after proper consideration, he responded to his question: “Why, it must have been the mining of some ore. Yet what could they hope to remove with only five men to work the mine? And with no pack animals, how could they transport what had been mined back beyond the mountains?”
“And what was young Mr. Paltrow’s purpose among this gang of evildoers?” Sir John continued. “Was he there as an employee? A partner? It is evident he fully expected to grow rich from this venture. What special knowledge had he to contribute to the enterprise? I believe I can guess — he with his weights and measures, et cetera. But I should like to be certain.”
Sir John set me thinking with his questions. Having listened, having given consideration to the matter, I spoke out at last. “Sir,” said I, “in writing up my report for you, I took pains to avoid speculation.”
“You needn’t have,” said he. “At this point, your speculations are as worthy as mine.”
“Then here is a point you might care to contemplate: It does seem to me, sir, that there is another party here who is not yet accounted for.”
“And who is that?”
“I do not know, sir. I can but describe to you his role in all this.”
“Then proceed, by all means.”
“You questioned earlier just what Lawrence Paltrow might have been doing with this gang of evildoers! It is difficult, after all, to suppose any connection there might earlier have been between him and Eli Bolt. There must have been a third party to put the two together. And it seems to me, too, that this unknown third party would have planned this enterprise and very likely have financed it, as well.”
“Oh? Explain.”
“Well, frankly, I doubt that Eli Bolt had either the sophistication or the wherewithal to bring an expert over to the colonies — and I believe you will agree that that is the role in which Lawrence Paltrow has been cast?”
“Ah, yes, no question of that.”
“According to the picture drawn by Mr. Bilbo, Bolt is a man who possesses a certain cunning — but little else. Whatever he had was not sufficient to organize an expedition of this sort. And as for Paltrow himself, he lacked the necessary knowledge of the North American colonies.”
“And so therefore,” said Sir John, “this third party you posit becomes not just a possibility but a probability.” He nodded, leaning back in his chair. Then he added as if it were a mere afterthought, “He would have been in England. He would have directed matters from here, of course.”
“Possibly, well, probably, I suppose.”
“That was reluctant agreement if I ever heard such, “ said he.
“I didn’t mean that it should sound so.”
“Ah, well …” He fluttered his fingers dismissively, as if to say that it was of no importance. Waiting, he thought, and thinking, he waited longer; I said naught to interrupt him. He finally spoke up, so unsuccessfully at first that he must needs clear his throat and begin again. This, then, was the question as at last it was formed: “You do see the significance of this, do you not? “