Chaloner wondered what it was about Fitzgerald that compelled people to do what he asked — Lydcott committing murder and betraying a kinsman who had never been anything but kind to him; Brinkes to look the other way while Harley was clubbed to death; all manner of people to join the Piccadilly Company. He could only suppose it was the promise of riches to come.
‘Did you kill Pratt, too?’ he asked. ‘At St Paul’s?’
‘I lied,’ said Lydcott, rather proudly. ‘I was not summoned to St Paul’s, and neither was Pratt. I came straight here instead. And you and Thurloe did not suspect a thing!’
‘No, but we should have done.’ Chaloner was as disgusted with himself as with Lydcott. ‘The clues were there to identify you as a villain. For example, you told Thurloe that the Piccadilly Company would not meet until next week, but there was a gathering on Sunday. You were there, but in disguise — I recognised your voice. You were sitting with your back to the window.’
Lydcott’s jaw dropped. ‘You spied on us? My God! I was right to warn Fitzgerald: you are a danger! Just wait until I tell him! He will be sure to give me the little bonus I requested now.’
‘You are demanding a bigger share of the profits?’ asked Chaloner. ‘Then you will die tonight, too. I wondered why he wanted you below decks, but it is obvious now.’
‘You understand nothing!’ said Lydcott, loudly and angrily. ‘He appreciates my skills.’
Fitzgerald whipped around. ‘No talking, or I will cut out your tongues. Both of you.’
Chaloner could see he meant it, and thought that while Lydcott was not quite the empty-headed fool he had assumed, he was still unspeakably stupid.
It was dark inside Jane, and the lamp Fitzgerald lit was the kind that was used during storms at sea — one that would not break if it fell over, spilling fuel that would cause a fire. The odd aroma was much stronger, but there was no time to analyse it as they were ordered to descend a series of stairs. Then all that could be smelled was bad water and rotting wood.
‘They have not kept her seaworthy,’ murmured Lester. ‘She is taking on water, and will sink in the next serious blow. No wonder she looks heavy in the bows.’
He was proven right when they reached a flooded hold. Brinkes jumped in, and indicated that Chaloner and Lester were to follow, while Fitzgerald, Lydcott and the three henchmen watched from the ladder. The waist-deep water was bitingly cold, and as they waded forwards, Chaloner felt something crunching under his feet: gravel. When they reached a post, Brinkes secured them to it.
‘It will be over soon,’ called Lydcott sympathetically. ‘You do not have long to suffer.’
Fitzgerald moved fast, and before Chaloner could shout a warning he had brought the butt of his gun down hard on Lydcott’s head. Lydcott swayed for a moment, then plummeted into the water.
‘Another risk eliminated,’ announced Fitzgerald with chilling blandness. He began to hum again.
It was completely silent in Jane’s hold, and not even the carousing from the Adventurers could be heard. Lydcott floated face down in the water, his arms out to the side, and Fitzgerald and his men watched Brinkes finish tying Chaloner and Lester to the post. When it was done, the henchmen moved away, but Fitzgerald lingered, nodding approvingly from his dry perch on the stairs as Brinkes gave his knots a final check.
‘You will be next, Brinkes,’ whispered Lester. ‘Fitzgerald is singing, and he always does that before dispatching someone. You-’
‘Let him go, Lester,’ said Chaloner. He tried to sound calm, but his stomach churned with agitation. ‘We have nothing to say to the likes of him.’
‘Fitzgerald will kill you, Brinkes,’ Lester went on, ignoring him. ‘You are a risk, too, no matter what he tells you now.’
‘Lies,’ whispered Brinkes. ‘You do not know what you are talking-’
‘What are you muttering about down there?’ called Fitzgerald, causing Brinkes to leap away from the prisoners in alarm and begin to wade back towards the steps.
‘If we are going to die, then at least tell us the name of the man who is behind all this,’ shouted Lester, boldly defiant as he glared at the pirate. ‘We know it is not you.’
‘Do you indeed?’ Fitzgerald sounded amused. ‘How?’
‘Do not answer him,’ warned Chaloner. ‘Or he will race down the ladder and beat your brains out.’
‘Better that than whatever else he has planned,’ Lester muttered back. ‘Besides, I want answers.’
‘We do not need them,’ said Chaloner, wanting Fitzgerald gone from the hold so he could think about how to escape while there was still time. ‘It is-’
‘Because you are not clever enough, you damned pirate,’ yelled Lester. ‘Or rich enough. And do not say that Lydcott’s glassware venture gives you funds, because we all know that is untrue.’
Chaloner tensed, expecting swift and brutal retaliation, but Fitzgerald only laughed. ‘Then you will die in ignorance, because I am not inclined to confide in you. And I am not a pirate, by the way, I am a privateer.’
‘Tell us what you plan to do,’ shouted Lester, as Brinkes reached the ladder and began to ascend. ‘It involves alcohol and something else …’
‘For God’s sake, Lester!’ hissed Chaloner urgently. ‘Just let them go, so we can turn our minds to escape. You are wasting time with your banter.’
‘Poor Jane,’ said Fitzgerald, leaning down to give a beam an affectionate pat. ‘She has served me well, but her timbers are rotten, and it is time to put her to another use.’
‘Gunpowder!’ yelled Lester in sudden understanding, although Chaloner had grasped the significance of what he had smelled the moment they stepped aboard — along with the fact that Fitzgerald was willing to sacrifice a ship that was a virtual wreck anyway.
‘Yes, he intends to blow her up,’ Chaloner snarled. ‘And I imagine there are enough explosives on board to destroy Jane, Katherine, and half of Queenhithe. Now just shut up and let him-’
‘My master will be rid of the Adventurers once and for all,’ called Fitzgerald gloatingly. ‘And a pair of irritating spymasters into the bargain. Thurloe and Williamson will perish in the blast, too.’
‘You cannot!’ cried Lester in horror. ‘There must be two hundred people on Katherine, including women and servants. It would be a terrible massacre!’
‘But not our master’s first,’ said Fitzgerald with a cold smile. ‘As Lord Teviot could attest, were he still in the land of the living. Are we ready, Brinkes? Is everything in place?’
Brinkes nodded. ‘All that remains is to set the fires. Shall I remove the gangways, to ensure no one can get off Katherine?’
Fitzgerald laughed, and the shrill, mad sound of it filled the hold. ‘Do not bother: our explosion will obliterate Queenhithe, and it will not matter if our enemies are aboard or on the quayside. They will die regardless.’
There was a thump and sudden darkness as Fitzgerald disappeared through the hatch and slammed it closed. Chaloner willed his footsteps to retreat, knowing that he and Lester did not have much time.
‘What are we going to do?’ asked Lester brokenly. ‘I do not care for myself — I have cheated death too often already in my years at sea. But all those innocents in the Great Cabin …’
‘Hardly innocents,’ said Chaloner, listening to ensure their captors had gone before making his move. ‘They are wealthy Adventurers, who intend to make themselves richer by trading in slaves.’
‘But their wives are with them,’ cried Lester. ‘Besides, I am sure we could make some of them see reason. Grey, for example. He would condemn the slave trade if he understood what it entails — he is not a bad man.’
Chaloner thought Lester was deluded if he believed he could persuade a lot of very rich people to forgo an easy way to make more money. But there was something refreshingly decent about Lester’s optimism, and he respected him for it.